Avatar the last airbender: shackled earth

Tomo woke to the dim light filtering into the cavern. The usual oppressive air hung around the bunkroom, but for once, it didn't weigh him down. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Something felt different.

His thoughts drifted to the conversation with Ariya the night before. Her words had been like a spark, igniting something he hadn't felt in a long time—hope.

Before he could dwell on it, a faint shimmer appeared before him. The system's familiar blue text blinked into view.

[ Notification:

Meditation Level Up! Your meditation skill has reached Level 3.

Chi Sense Increased! Your chi sense has advanced to Level 2.

System Note: About time you got the hang of this. Keep pushing, or stay a pebble.

]

Tomo blinked. He wasn't sure whether to be amused or offended by the system's remark, but the information was clear. His efforts had finally borne fruit.

Level 3 meditation and Level 2 chi sense. He didn't fully understand what it meant, but he could feel the change. The chi inside him, which had once been an elusive whisper, now felt like a steady hum.

He sat cross-legged on the hard bunk, his eyes narrowing.

"All right," he muttered to himself. "Let's see if this really works."

---

The first step was finding it.

Tomo closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and steadying his breath. The cavern's noise faded into the background as he focused inward.

The hum of chi was there, sitting in his chest like a dormant boulder. It was heavy and unyielding, but undeniably present.

"Move," he whispered.

Nothing happened.

He focused harder, imagining the chi as a solid weight pressing against his ribs. He willed it to shift, to roll just a little. The effort was immense, like trying to push a massive rock up a steep hill. Sweat formed on his brow, his muscles tensing with the strain.

And then it moved.

A fraction, a mere nudge, but it moved.

Tomo's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving. The chi settled back into place almost immediately, but the sensation was clear. He'd done it.

"Okay," he said, catching his breath. "Again."

---

The morning bell rang, signaling the start of the workday, but Tomo was already awake and buzzing with determination.

As the miners shuffled to the worksite, he moved with them, his thoughts consumed by the chi. He could feel it now, even without meditating. The faint hum remained in his chest, like a second heartbeat.

The overseers barked their orders, and the miners fell into their usual routine. The clink of pickaxes against stone filled the air, but Tomo barely noticed.

Every swing of his pickaxe became an exercise in focus. He imagined the chi rolling through him, down his arm, into his hands. The strain was exhausting, but he pressed on, each attempt building on the last.

By midday, his muscles burned and his mind felt like it had run a marathon. But the chi—his chi—had moved again.

---

During the break, Tomo found a quiet corner away from the other miners. His meager rations sat untouched as he crossed his legs and closed his eyes.

The chi was there, heavier than ever. Moving it felt like an impossible task, but he refused to give up.

He focused on his breathing, letting it guide the rhythm of his thoughts. Slowly, he reached for the chi, imagining it as the massive boulder it was.

"Just a little more," he muttered under his breath.

The boulder shifted, rolling slightly down an invisible path. The strain was immense, his body trembling with the effort, but he didn't stop.

Another nudge. Then another.

The chi began to flow, sluggish and uneven, but flowing nonetheless.

Tomo opened his eyes, his chest heaving. His hands were trembling, his entire body drenched in sweat. But he'd done it. The chi had moved farther than ever before.

---

The rest of the day passed in a haze. The physical labor of the mines felt almost secondary to the mental battle he was waging.

Every break, every stolen moment, became an opportunity to practice. The boulder grew slightly lighter each time, the path a little smoother. It wasn't easy—far from it—but the progress was undeniable.

By the time the workday ended, Tomo was utterly spent. His body ached, his head throbbed, and his vision swam with exhaustion. But a small, defiant smile played on his lips.

---

Back in the bunkroom, Tomo collapsed onto his bed. The other miners barely spared him a glance, too consumed by their own misery to notice his exhaustion.

He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to meditate.

The chi greeted him like an old adversary, heavy and stubborn. But this time, he felt… prepared.

His breaths came slow and steady, his focus sharper than ever. He reached for the boulder, pushing against its weight with everything he had.

It moved.

Not much, but more than before. The flow was smoother, more natural. It still felt like climbing a mountain, but the summit no longer seemed unreachable.

Tomo opened his eyes, his body trembling with exertion.

A faint sense of pride swelled in his chest. He wasn't strong, not yet. But he was stronger than he'd been yesterday.

As he lay back on his bunk, staring at the cavern ceiling, his thoughts drifted to Ariya. Her confidence, her defiance—it had sparked something in him.

Tomorrow, he decided, would be another step forward.

And for the first time, the climb didn't seem so daunting.