Nothingness. Nothingness that comes from knowing something is wrong, but not knowing what. Nothingness that comes from knowing you've forgotten something. It's at the tip of your tongue, but you're still unsure. Thoughts swirl around your mind—fragments of events—but they all seem so fleeting.

Wake up. You need to remember.

Remember what?

Not what—who.

Who?

Yourself. The nothingness was interrupted by a strange aroma. What is that? It smelled bad. What was it? Sulfur… gas… airship? Shen awoke as the stench wafted closer towards him. He heard a familiar low growl at the base of his bed and groaned.

"Boma… not again…" Shen turned to his side so his nose was opposite to the smell. It didn't help, and the stench of Boma's vomit was almost suffocating.

"Ugh, fine, I'm up." He sat up groggily and saw the Komodo lion, her eyes pointed towards the ground in guilt. A slight grin spread across Shen's face as he patted the her head. "Aw, don't worry about it, Bo, I could never stay mad at you." She turned her head and purred softly as he scratched her sand-colored muzzle.

Shen went into the hall and grabbed himself a sponge and soap bottle from the closet. What was I so trying to remember in that dream? He began scrubbing at the yellowish liquid. No, it wasn't me. The voice that spoke to him was unfamiliar, as if someone else was talking to him.

As Shen finished wiping up the vomit, its scent mostly gone, he heard a voice call for him down the hall.

"Shen! Have you forgotten something?" Shen stood up and ran into the hall, Boma trailing closely behind.

"Sorry, Gran-Gran! I overslept!" Once a week, he went to the market in Misty Palms and to buy groceries for the week.

He raced into the kitchen, where his grandmother was standing, her hands on her hips. Her hair was gray and tied in a bun, and her face was lined with slight wrinkles. She was eighty-something ("A woman never reveals her full age!" she once joked), but Shen knew she was as old as the Earth Republic itself. Despite her age, or perhaps because of it, she was tough, never afraid to speak her mind, yet quite affectionate with him.

"Don't forget to get onions and fish for soup tonight," she said, embracing him with a tight squeeze. "Remember to be careful now. Don't get into any trouble,"

Shen rolled his eyes. "You don't have to worry about me. I've done this every week since I was a kid."

"Of course. It's just you're growing up to be so much like…," her grip on him tightened slightly, "never mind about that now. Now go so you don't get back too late." She let go, waving her hands towards the door.

As Shen and Boma walked outside, he grabbed a beige hood and goggles and pulled them over his face, making sure his brown hair would not be pressed over his eyes. It was a hot day, and he could already feel sweat forming underneath his cloak. He made his way to the large wood craft resting near the house.

It was a sand-sailer: passed down in his family for generations. He ran his hand down the runners, which were smoothed from years of use. He climbed up onto it with Boma leaping up with a single jump. She sat down, her body circled around the mast, with her scaly green tail resting near her nose.

Shen studied the compass at the front of the craft and then around him. Large sand dunes surrounded their small community, like giants guarding a city. He looked to the houses neighboring him, each almost identical to each other.

All their sand-sailers were gone—he was the last one to go. He let out a breathy sigh that fogged up his goggles: he'd better hurry up if he wanted to return home on time. He widened his stance and began to move his arms elliptically. The sand beneath the craft began to shift, and the sand-sailer began to move forward.

The sailer began to glide through the desert speedily, the runners making a hissing noise as they ran across the sand. Shen thought back to that morning's dream. It was different from other dreams—it felt too important to forget. "Remember yourself," the voice had said. Was this some kind of advice? A warning? Perhaps it would make sense in the future.

The sailer sped through the vast ocean of sand, its golden waves shifting as he moved past. Shen could feel the wind against his face as he accelerated the craft faster and faster. As the city became within sight, Shen slowly braked the sand-sailer.

He reached his hand for his belt, where he kept the chain used to lock the sand-sailer up. His heart dropped when his hand touched nothing but cloth. Shen continued patting down his sides, but a quick search would confirm his worst fear: he had forgotten the lock.

Before he could subdue to panic, he looked around. It couldn't hurt to leave for just a few minutes, right?

"Stay here and watch the craft, alright?" He looked to Boma for confirmation, who gave him a bored yawn. That served as confirmation enough as he ran into the street.

Shops and stands lined the road and the smell of spices and food wafted into Shen's nose. He navigated his way through the crowd of people, all chatting about the daily goings or haggling for the best prices. He continued shuffling through until he could smell the aroma of fish and slipped out of the crowd.

"Shen, my boy!" a grizzly voice called. "How is your grandmother?"

"She's doing well, Mr. Fung." Fung the Fish Man, as he was called, was known for two things: his mediocre fish and his laugh. It was deep and bellous, like a cow's moo. His face was greasy with sweat, and his faded apron reading "Fu g's Fr sh i h" barely fit around his waist.

"Good, good," Fung replied. "Now, what will it be today?"

"Just two, please," Shen said, pulling two copper pieces from his pocket.

"How about a third? The delivery just came this morning, so they're still fresh." Shen doubted him, but not wanting to seem impolite, he pulled out an extra copper piece.

"That's what I like to see!" As Fung bagged the fish, he chuckled. "Have you heard about the new 'Avatar'?"

"No, they're still looking for them, right?"

"Yes, but you know Chen's son?"

"Yes, I do." Hou Chen was a boy around Shen's age, the son of a wealthy merchant. Loudmouthed and arrogant, he spent most of his time stealing coins from people's back pockets with his friends.

"He tried to pass himself off as the Avatar to the White Lotus. Can you believe it?"

"But he can't even bend."

"Exactly! He just wanted to have an excuse to skip town." Fung scoffed. "You'd think smarts would be genetic. There, enjoy your fish." He passed the bag into Shen's arms.

"Thank you." Shen slipped back into the crowd, navigating through again.

He imagined leaving the desert. Why would anyone want to? The bazaar of Misty Palms was so familiar. He imagined living in the capital, Ba Sing Se. Misty Palms already seemed so busy. Anything more so was unfathomable. Did they have their own Hou Chen's in Ba Sing Se? They must have, perhaps even hundreds more. Shen shuddered at the thought of hundreds of Hou Chen's.

He doubled back towards the port, with the vegetable carts on the other side of the bazaar. As he passed the alley that led to the edge of the city, he could hear snarling and yelling.

"Boma…" Shen ran down the alley and saw the Komodo lion with someone tying a muzzle around her mouth. Another was standing on his sand-sailer, tinkering with the compass. Another was on his knees, carving into the runners with a dagger. A deep rage filled Shen's body as his hands formed into fists.

"Leave her alone!" He bended a mass of rock and threw it at the person on the ground. They snapped their head towards him, their face contorted into a familiar sneer.

"Hou Chen, I swear to Kyoshi, get your goons off my lion!"

"Or what? You think you can take all three of us?"

"If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get."

Hou Chen chuckled again and gestured towards his friends. "Boli, Min, teach Shen a lesson, please."

The two others leapt at him. He shot a stone at one, Boli, who sent it flying straight back. Shen deflected it by bending it away.

Shen kicked Boli in the jaw and threw sand in Min's eyes, but was too late to deflect Hou Chen's punch to the gut. He doubled over in pain.

The two grabbed him by his arms and tripped him, making him fall to his knees. Boli rose the earth around his feet to keep Shen trapped where he stood. Hou Chen approached, his temple bloody from where Shen hit him with the rock. He held a dagger in his hand. Shen's eyes widened with panic.

"When will you learn," Hou Chen chided, "that your actions have consequences?"

"Don't do this, Hou. You'll regret it."

"The only one who will be regretting anything is you," he snapped. He lifted up Shen's chin, exposing his neck. "You could have joined us. You're a talented earthbender after all." Shen looked side to side to see if someone, anyone would come.

Hou continued and squeezed Shen's chin. "You were too arrogant. It's a real shame, but hey, maybe in the next life." His grin widened as he began to edge the knife into Shen's throat.

As the sharp blade pierced his skin, where he was expecting pain, Shen felt a sharp jolt of energy in his body. He rose out of the earth, the rocks keeping him stuck to the ground crumbling away. His arms rose, with his palms facing outwards. It was as if he was not in control of his own body. He looked down at his attackers, whose eyes were wide with fear. They began to run away into the bazaar.

The earth began to break apart underneath him, like ocean waves. Wind whipped around him quickly, sending his hood and goggles flying. Water rose up his legs and moved upwards, balancing him several feet into the air. Fire shot out from his hands, surrounding him in a ring of fire.

What's happening to me?

You're beginning to remember. The same voice from the dream spoke to him.

Who are you? What are you doing?

You will learn soon enough.

Shen began to feel lightheaded. He could feel himself losing consciousness. He slowly began to slip into the nothingness.

Shen awoke on the ground, his hands caked with dirt and blood. Masses of rubble and splintered signs of food stands surrounded him. He saw what remained of his sand-sailer in the distance. As the cloud of dust begna to clear, he could see someone was pinned underneath it.

He tried to rush over, but he felt a throbbing pain in his head, sending him falling to the ground again. He crawled on his hands and knees the rest of the way. Shen pushed the mass of wood over the person. Their face was bloody and bruised, and he couldn't recognize it at first. His heart sank as he came to the realization.

"Hou?" he shook his body. Panic overtook him. He tried to scream but couldn't hear himself over the ringing in his ears. He wanted someone to come and comfort him, to tell him that everything was alright, but deep down he knew no one would come.

The dust cleared and Shen saw in the crowd scared faces, all staring at him. They all murmured to one another. Despite being unable to hear, he knew what they were saying: murderer.