The local basic training course lasted unexpectedly long—a full six months. I thought it would take much less time, as I assumed the preparation of soldiers was streamlined. Although the Fire Nation was engaged in a slow-moving, it was still a war, meaning they always needed replenishment—fresh meat. There are no wars in which people don't die.
Initially, the training had nothing to do with bending or any physical exercises. For two whole weeks, it was nothing but propaganda and brainwashing. The Fire Nation is the best; Azulon is a great leader; the Fire Nation is the best nation in the world, and so on. The goal of this was clear to me. It was enough to look into the eyes of any of my course mates to understand that the brainwashing had been perfectly successful. Very soon, their convictions about themselves and the exceptional nature of their nation became unshakable. People genuinely began to believe that only under the rule of the Fire Lord would everyone else live well and prosper.
Almost none of the ordinary soldiers could be called Nationalists, however. The idea instilled in people's minds was that the leaders of the Earth and Water Nations were the bad ones, while the population itself was secondary, meaning they had no choice. They just had to live with what they had. And it was the Fire Nation's duty to help all the wretched.
Incidentally, there was a certain grain of truth in these arguments, and I probably would have sincerely helped with their realization... a hundred years ago, because it was back then that the Fire Nation stood out from the others as the cultural and technological capital of the entire world. But now... No, that wasn't the case. The Fire Nation's technology still leads, but not by much, and primarily in the military-industrial complex, which is an industry that does nothing for the common people.
There have recently been serious problems with cultural heritage. Many things are simply being canceled or abolished. For instance, the Fire Nation no longer dances. For some reason, I found this very amusing. In the school, which gathered youth from all neighboring villages, including me, music lessons were present, but dancing was forbidden.
Allegedly, expressing feelings through dance somehow interferes with the students. I recently heard that Prince Ozai wanted to push his father, Fire Lord Azulon, to initiate a ban on theatrical productions. The rumors didn't say what they had done to displease him. I wouldn't have even believed them if it weren't for the ban on dancing.
This meant that, at this stage of development, the Fire Nation was hardly different from the Earth Kingdom. They might slightly surpass the Water Tribes in development, but not the Earth Kingdom. The Fire Lords had somehow missed the moment of their technical and cultural superiority and turned the war into a protracted conflict. Several generations had already passed, entire dynasties of hereditary military officers had formed, yet the Fire Nation still hadn't won the war. Something was wrong here...
After two weeks of political indoctrination, the recruits were finally taught something relatively useful—such as how to ignite anger and hatred within themselves. This intensified the flame. It became very easy to use. Not in terms of control. No, it simply ignited more easily, burst forth from the Bender's body, and was slightly more powerful than if the person were in a state of inner calm.
I myself had noticed the flame's dependence on emotion long ago. And I had even realized that it was strongest precisely when I was experiencing something negative, like anger or hatred. But I thought this was a dead-end path to development. That one wouldn't become a truly strong and capable Firebender this way.
It's impossible to be permanently angry. A person is simply incapable of this if they are mentally healthy. Moreover, in such a state, the risk of making a mistake is slightly higher. And any small error during a fight can cost you your life...
I had also noted that the flame's power changed during certain breathing exercises. It could become either weaker or stronger. But I failed to find a suitable breathing technique. All the known breathing methods resulted in a less noticeable increase in power than kindling hatred within myself.
I asked the Bending instructor about breathing. He merely shrugged and said he didn't know anything, claiming he was teaching us the most advanced Firebending technology that existed. Something about his words didn't sit right with me...
Perhaps there once was another way to bend fire, one that was based precisely on breathing, but it was replaced by the one currently in use. They chose what was easier to mass-produce. Kindling hatred is much simpler than learning to breathe correctly and maintaining that breathing during a prolonged battle.
Overall, the Bending training was disappointing. I learned absolutely nothing new. I was still shooting jets of flame and fireballs from my limbs. The only difference was the kindling of the inner bonfire of hatred and anger. No fundamentals of working with Chi were imparted. I continued to manifest it purely by intuition, just as before. I don't consider the instructor's words about hitting harder and faster to be a complete science of Chi utilization, because they likely aren't.
Even the combat style taught was nothing new to me. I already knew it. It was a variation of Kung Fu that I had learned during one of my previous reincarnations. There were slight differences, but it was essentially the same thing I had once studied: aggressive attacks, active use of legs both for movement and for striking, sweeping, sometimes circular movements, and so on.
This style, as I had noticed back when I learned it, had one noticeable drawback: a practical lack of defense. And this flaw was also evident in the Firebenders. Defensive moves were very scarce.
Local masters called this a Positive Jing—a combat option characterized by the attempt to completely overwhelm the opponent from the very start of the fight. The first strike delivered with full force. With this method of combat, there was no talk of defense at all. But on the other hand, this style was a perfect fit for the aggressive nature of the Fire Nation. People of this nation are typically very assertive and stubborn. And sometimes quick-tempered.
Most of the time was spent on learning the intricacies of operating machinery—the local ships and tanks. A great deal in these machines depended on the Benders. Without them, these iron beasts were difficult to move, or they almost completely lost their offensive potential. In the tanks, for instance, a Bender acted as the "cannon." Ships could still fire, because catapults were installed on the deck, but even those weren't as effective. An Earthbender is more likely to be scared of a burning boulder than a simple rock flying at them. They are familiar with the latter.
Since Benders were fewer than ordinary people, they were turned into jacks-of-all-trades. That is, ordinary soldiers have different types of forces that specialize in something specific, but Firebenders learn everything at once. We could serve in the regular infantry or sit in a tank, acting as the "cannon." Some kind of universalists who are both elite guards and regular fighters on a ship.
I became fully convinced that we, the common Benders, were definitely being under-taught when I witnessed an Agni Kai—a duel between two Firebenders—between the City Guard Commander and the head of recruit training. They used techniques I hadn't seen throughout the entire training process. The instructors hadn't even mentioned them.
For example, dense flame. It was so solid that you could grab something with it. The head of recruit training, for instance, was able to trip the Guard Commander by whipping his leg with a flame whip, and the Commander, in turn, sliced through that whip as if it were truly physical, with two equally dense-looking blades of flame.
The duel between the true fire masters ended with one of them firing lightning. Real lightning from his hand. Dazzling. Thundering. Fast. No, not at the other man. Next to him, to intimidate. Don't mess with me anymore, because you won't like the result.
Lightning was something incredible to me. At first, the thought even crossed my mind that the Guard Commander who fired it was the Avatar—the person who can master all elements in this world. But my voiced guess was only met with laughter, and I was called an uneducated bumpkin. Lightning was the most difficult Firebending technique, taught only to the High Command and members of the Royal Family.
This meant one thing: lightning was out of reach for me. I simply wouldn't rise to the coveted rank. It just wouldn't happen according to the country's own laws. My maximum would be captain of a ship or some small outpost. However, my children might very well rise higher. That's how the local system was structured.
But I wanted lightning. I was practically drooling over it. At least in my sleep, I was. A more defined goal for this life appeared. I wanted to not only learn Bending but to delve deeper into it, to study lightning itself.
Of course, I tried the easy way: finding out the secret from the Bender who used it in front of me. But my attempt to petition the Guard Commander to take me on as an apprentice yielded nothing.
"You are nothing to me," was his answer, devoid of any flowery language.
Analyzing the past fight, I also noted that the Guard Commander, unlike the head of recruit training, did not fuel his flame with rage at all. He was calm, collected, and focused, but not angry. Yet the power of his fire was even slightly stronger than his opponent's. Though their age and, presumably, fighting experience were roughly the same. This meant that there was something beyond anger after all—something that strengthened the fire. And the Guard Commander did at least confirm this. He told me that I needed to breathe correctly. It was a shame he was unwilling to share the details, because again, I was nothing to him. Perhaps the Firebender was disappointed in me the moment I said I wanted to go to the front and no longer wanted anything to do with me...
But I was still grateful to him. He very timely helped me discard the dead-end path of kindling fire with hatred and forced me to switch back to searching for the correct breathing technique.
I also began to ponder the nature of Firebenders. A foolish thought came to mind: that fire is not the element they actually control with their Chi. Is it possible that I, like other Firebenders, am actually using plasma? That would at least explain the lightning...
How many secrets this world holds, mysteries of Bending, and simply the unknown... It's been a long time since the flame of curiosity, the thirst for knowledge, and the drive to comprehend something new flared up within me...
Burn, my flame!
Blaze!
For there is so much "fuel" here for you, hah!
Meanwhile, the basic training course was nearing its end. Soon, we, the recruits, were supposed to be assigned to units. Me, for instance, to be sent to the front lines...