Chapter Text
She is always watching. Always doing her best to protect. Even when she cannot take physical action, she tries to provide a calming or loving feeling. She watches over the girl who was bold enough to invoke the name of a spirit to do what needed to be done. She follows her journey, watching from the spirit world, remembering each occasion when the girl and her friends do what is right even when it is hard. She observes the girl, the Avatar, and their companions. Each of them contains their own kind of sanctity and treasure. They all hold strength - strength that they shouldn't be forced to have at their age, but strength nonetheless. They protect each other and those around them. Those they do not know. She looks down on them day after day as they tirelessly travel the world seeking an end to destruction and a reincarnation of humanity and hope.
Her attention is often caught by the two boys on the fringes of the action. The girl is the main player, and they support her, but they have come to know each other in a way far braver and more kind than many of those three times their age. One, with his centered ponytail and fingerless gloves, proudly bearing the colors of his homeland. The other, with shaggy black hair and a scar, smiling without hesitance for what she knows to be the first time in years. One, with a necklace that shows and represents his love for a place he will always return to. The other just beginning to find himself, through his style as well as his personality. Both with their childhoods cruelly stolen away from them. Both, essentially suffering from the same hand. Both, finding solace and warmth in the other slowly but surely, like honey sinking and dissolving in a glass of water.
It begins with hesitant contact, lingering glances. A pat on the shoulder, a private shared smile. A brush of hands, a hip bump, a ruffling of hair. The joking that children easily fall into, light teasing and games that involve running and tackling. This is followed by the hard conversations, when they both sit awake in the quietest hours of the night. Arms pressed together, faces turned slightly towards each other, a comforting hand on the small of the back. Tears are shared, wiped away, reciprocated, and left to soak into the earth and nurture new life and growth in more ways than one. Shaking forms embrace quietly. Acceptance blooms. Love soon follows. The fear of imminent battle coaxes lingering hugs and secure hand holding. They become a force. Combined. A first kiss is shared deep in the woods on a carefree afternoon. Many follow. Hands gently running through hair, fingers tapping on thighs that don't belong to them (but really, kind of do), warm breaths ghosting across cheeks and chins.
Joy blossoms as the grass around the group grows ever greener. A trick of the earth, perhaps. A gift from the spirit world, more likely. Their understanding binds the wanderers more than anyone thought previously possible. The inseparable unit of five (or sometimes more - humans are always in flux, like the sturdiest oak branches that wave in the wind but never snap) follows a path laid for them with care and attention. Pain waits along it: grief, sorrow, and numbness. But resilience is strengthened through compassion, presence, simple happinesses, and family. The painted lady does not care for restrictive constructions, but this group has created anything but. Their love for one another shines through every interaction, every silent awareness.
Each member of the family has a separate path to tread within the intertwined destiny of them all, but the overlaps provide reprieve, buoyancy, and a recharge of energy from more than one source.
The boys' paths lay side by side, that they may walk hand in hand. Blessings fall upon them like the world has not seen in millennia. Touching the hearts of all those that surround them, cradling each with the utmost care, they trace their way through the minds of generations to come.