The morning sun crept over the icy peaks of the Northern Water Tribe, casting long streaks of pale light across the village. The cold air, sharp and unrelenting, felt alive as it swept across the frozen streets.
Inside his small igloo, Lian woke with a jolt, his body stiff and sore. Every muscle ached from the previous day's training, a dull reminder of his small, fragile frame. Yet, instead of frustration, a faint smile curled on his lips.
"This is good," he whispered, flexing his fingers. "Pain means progress."
He couldn't afford to slack off. The Library of Heaven's Path was his greatest advantage, and with it, he could push his body, waterbending, and soul beyond the limits of this world. But first, he needed to fix the foundation.
Lian sat cross-legged and whispered into the quiet:
"Library, analyze my body."
The golden book appeared in his mind, its glowing letters sharp and clear:
Flaws:
Weak muscles and bones; body structure underdeveloped.Low stamina; insufficient energy reserves.Improper posture during breathing exercises reduces efficiency.
Lian read the flaws, his young face resolute. "Time to strengthen my body."
Lian had memories from his previous life—countless techniques for fitness and martial arts. But now, with the Library, he could take those methods and perfect them.
He stepped outside, shivering as the morning cold hit him, his small feet sinking into the snow. The village was just beginning to stir, but no one paid attention to the lone boy walking toward the training grounds.
The icy plains stretched out before him, an expanse of unyielding frost. He dropped into a squat, his breath misting in the cold air. Push-ups—simple, yet the first step to tempering his body.
Lian began, his small arms trembling under the strain.
"One..." he grunted.
"Two..."
By the tenth push-up, his body burned. His chest heaved, his arms shook violently, but he grit his teeth.
"Library, analyze my posture."
A glowing book appeared in his mind: 'Push-Ups – Current Form'.
Flaws:
Arms positioned too wide, increasing strain.Core engagement insufficient; form unstable.
Lian adjusted, pulling his arms in slightly and tightening his core. The difference was immediate—his form stabilized, the effort distributed more evenly. It was still excruciating, but now he knew it was correct.
He pushed through, counting each repetition with single-minded focus. When he finally collapsed into the snow, sweat beading his forehead despite the cold, he had completed thirty push-ups. For a five-year-old boy, it was grueling—but he wasn't done.
Lian rolled onto his back and began sit-ups.
"Strengthen the core. Strengthen the body," he muttered like a mantra.
As the hours passed, his training continued. Squats to build his legs. Planks to temper his core. Each movement analyzed, corrected, and perfected by the Library. By the time the sun had risen fully, Lian's small body felt like it might break, but his smile only grew.
Every drop of sweat brought him closer to his goal.
"Lian?"
The voice startled him. Lian looked up, panting, to see Yue standing nearby. She wore a thick white fur cloak, her silver hair glowing in the morning light. Her wide eyes were filled with concern.
"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping closer.
"Training," Lian said simply, pushing himself to his feet. His legs wobbled but held.
Yue frowned. "But you're just a boy! Father says training too hard can make you sick."
Lian wiped the sweat from his brow, his expression calm. "I'll be fine, Yue. I have to do this."
She tilted her head, her voice soft. "Why?"
The question hung in the air for a moment, and Lian paused. How could he explain it? That he had goals beyond her imagination? That this small, frail body would one day become stronger than anyone else in the tribe?
Finally, he smiled faintly. "Because I want to protect you."
Yue's cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You're silly," she mumbled, but her voice was gentle. "But... thank you."
Her words warmed him more than he cared to admit.
"I'll show you one day," Lian said, his voice firm. "One day, I'll be the strongest waterbender in the world."
Yue's eyes widened in awe, and she smiled brightly. "Then I'll cheer for you!"
As the day wore on, Lian realized that while his body needed tempering, his mind and spirit were just as important. Waterbending relied heavily on spiritual connection, on harmony between the body and soul.
Returning to the water's edge that afternoon, Lian sat cross-legged and closed his eyes. The sound of the waves lapping against the ice filled his ears, and the cold wind brushed against his cheeks.
"Breathe," he whispered. "Feel the water."
The Library had pointed out his weak connection to the water's energy. Now, he focused on fixing it. He imagined the water around him—not as something separate, but as an extension of himself. Its calm surface. Its hidden depths.
Minutes turned into hours as he sat there, still as a statue. Slowly, something shifted. He felt it—not the water, but a faint pulse beneath it. A rhythm, soft yet undeniable, like a heartbeat.
His eyes snapped open, and he raised his hand. This time, when he pulled, the water responded. A thin stream rose, swirling gently above his palm before falling back. It was small, insignificant to any observer, but to Lian, it was a victory.
The spiritual connection was beginning.
By the time the day ended, Lian could barely move. His body ached, his muscles screamed, and his head throbbed from the effort of training both body and mind. Yet, as he lay curled beneath his furs, a quiet satisfaction filled him.
"Library, show me my progress."
The golden book appeared, its words different now:
Flaws (Improved):
Muscles strengthened slightly; form corrected.Breathing techniques refined; energy flow stabilized.Initial spiritual connection to water achieved; consistency needed.
Lian smiled faintly. "Step by step."
Outside, the moon shone brightly over the frozen land, its light streaming through the cracks in the igloo. He closed his eyes, whispering softly:
"I'll get stronger. For me... and for her."
With that, he drifted into sleep, his dreams filled with visions of flowing water, towering ice, and a destiny carved by his own hands.