Welcome to the Ocean
Omake by me, Obviously
Lindon was very firmly decided... that he wasn't really sure about anything. Really, moving to some new Fief on the Frontier, near some strange new Barbarians, under the Duchess' Heir?! Lindon was barely a young man, he'd only just earned a spear and his lines from his father before for some reason decided that moving from their cozy little village in Wang lands was a good idea. Let alone the rest of it. His old man, burned around his eye and stoic as always had brushed off his concerns.
'No whinin' now, lad! Beyond honor or oaths, this pond of ours is too small for you,' his father, Zuko, scorned.
As any dutiful son would, he'd stopped bothering his father and gone to his mother to cease this madness instead. She'd been thrilled to move south... Never-he-mind that they were moving south, towards the Wall, she'd even started teasing him about finding some new girl to try and court, which was, something to consider at least. Not a good enough reason in Lindon's mind to be moving closer to Barbarian territory. Some other Imperials may have sneered at his darker skin, but Lindon was firmly of the idea that he had no need to meet his 'ancestral brothers' honestly enough. They'd probably kill him like they would any Imperial, and it wasn't like many Imperials had any respect for a 'savage' like himself. At least back in the village everyone already knew about him, so, that was something. He had one or two... could Lee be called a friend? The guy was really just the local loudmouth so, maybe not? ... Most unfortunate, that.
Anyway, actually arriving had been a nightmare all its own. His father may have had a good job fishing from the shore, even if some of the fish and crabs around were...
strange. Proper Immortals may have sneered at a Red Realm fish, but for young men who'd seen only the occasional fish the size of a man's arm,
Jade Helms were terrifying. Mortal or not, falling into the Lady Lake Snowblossom, could have consequences. Who knew what kind, Cultivators were
so bloody strange.
Lindon's mother, bless her soul, didn't begrudge his desperate desire to
never follow her to work again. It was, objectively, and reasonably, an honor for his mother to be a trusted scribe under the orders of the Cai Heir. He could understand that, could easily respect the Lady Cai herself for her lawful and honorable nature, much like her mother was said to be. Absolutely wonderful, all told, even. The fish were plentiful (
and quite possibly, and unfortunately, even moreso soon), the houses were warm, and the neighbors were kind. The other lads up the slopes apparently had great fun riding the flying sheep, however that had started. But still, even so,
Lady Cai glowed. In her presence, Lindon was quite certain there had been not even a
speck of dirt, let alone disorder. It was... oh so very strange, to have his mind start to self organize itself, as if some grand plan to conquer the day with diligence and certainty had gripped him by the shoulders and shaken him.
This did not even
begin to speak of the others. No matter how amenable or reasonable Xia Lin of the local White Plumes was,
Lindon was certain her weapon was glaring at him. He avoided the training yards after that point, but that was too easy. No matter the utter serenity with which Lady Ling had greeted him in the few times he'd seen her by the lake while fishing,
he wasn't serene when the woman suddenly appeared somewhere despite supposedly being 'crippled' by strange immortal standards. Sir Gan, bless his virtuous and boisterous soul, certainly inspired a certain joy in oneself, only,
why did the man just balloon in size like that?! Nowhere was safe, Lindon realized, from Immortal strangeness.
With almost thoughtless movements, he sat at the edge of his little boat, made from some of the local wood, pale as the moon above. He wasn't sure why these thoughts kept coming back around to him. Wasn't sure why the Reflective Moon seemed so bright against the lake water. He lunged, a moment without thought, lost in contemplation of the strangeness of a new world, as his spear of ancient white ash wood and bone speared a fish. A Jade Helm, large too, its strength just a bit too much to pull from the water, but Lindon knew this play from start to finish. With his lines, woven from some old silk that his father had given to him, earned from his father and so forth, he held tight.
The fish thrashed, fighting as it would, and this was fair in Lindon's mind. Who wanted to be dinner really? This, the game, the play to be waged. If Lindon couldn't hold tight, he'd lose the lines, his spear, and if he fell in the Snowblossom Lake who knew what else? But the fish would thrash, as they always would, a fight to prove its right to be. But a conundrum arose. Lindon was a mere young man on a boat, on the surface of the water, with spear and lines bit into a quite absurdly large fish. This of course, to those who'd never done so, would seem so simple. But of course, it never was. Anything was easy to say, doing was always worse. Lindon had to keep his balance, in his small boat, as the fish tossed, turned, dived, and splashed, never letting the lines drag out too much, adjust his footwork upon the boat for best leverage, change his grip on the lines for a better heave, and so much more.
So Lindon did as his father taught him. He let his thoughts ramble, moving meditation of sorts.
'Let your mind be as the lake's surface. Unbothered, unbroken. The surface may writhe or stumble with thought, but these, as all things, will pass.'
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AN: About a thousand words or so. Not sure what to call this, might never mess with Lindon's perspective again, but I found it fun. If he were to be a cultivator (absolutely theoretically) then his elements would be, as probably noted, Lake and Moon. Specifically the Reflecting Moon, said to be focused on contemplation and togetherness. The Lake, for much of the same, since in his life, as a young man (think late teens), the Lake really is where all things come together. The village, the celebrations, the food, and so on. But its also contemplation, a literal quiet place where, at night, he can go out and fish up something or just stare at the water and think about stuff. A bit of barbarian heritage and blood (darker skin, the spear and his lines), thanks to the Wang doing there whole... cultural (transplant?) things, with captured prisoners/barbarians.