Avatar: shackled earth

Tomo's muscles ached as he swung his pickaxe at the stubborn wall of rock. The endless clinking of metal against stone had become as familiar as his own heartbeat, each swing another reminder of the monotony of life in the mines. He glanced toward Overseer Sho, perched near the edge of the pit, barking orders at the guards.

A fragment of conversation drifted down to him, carried by the still, heavy air.

"…partial eclipse in a few months," Sho said, his voice low but distinct. "We'll need to adjust the schedules for that day."

"Why?" one of the guards asked, tilting his head.

Sho's reply was sharper, tinged with annoyance. "Because weaker firebenders mean disruptions. If you don't plan ahead, chaos follows. You'd know that if you used your head."

Tomo stilled, his grip tightening on the handle of his pickaxe. A partial eclipse? The words sent a ripple through his mind, stirring memories that didn't belong to this world.

He remembered watching an episode of the show where a solar eclipse—one that completely blocked out the sun—rendered firebenders powerless. It was a pivotal moment, but it wasn't supposed to happen for like 2 years. This "partial eclipse" was something else entirely, something he hadn't anticipated. A partial eclipse wasn't something he remembered from the show. Could it be unique to this world, or had it just never been mentioned?

Weaker firebenders… Could this be our chance?

His thoughts churned, ideas forming as quickly as they were discarded. This wasn't just an opportunity—it was a lifeline. But he needed more information before making any plans.

The next break came as a relief, though Tomo's mind was anything but calm. He found Ariya sitting near the firepit in their quarters, her posture stiff and her expression wary.

She looked up as he burst in, her sharp eyes narrowing.

"You're late," she said flatly.

Tomo plopped down on the floor in front of her, his grin undiminished. "You won't believe what I heard today."

Ariya raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Let me guess—Overseer Sho tripped over his ego and fell into a pit?"

Tomo chuckled. "Close, but better. He was talking about a partial eclipse happening in a few months. He said it weakens firebenders."

Her expression turned skeptical. "A partial what now?"

"Eclipse," Tomo explained, leaning forward with an excited glint in his eyes. "It's when the moon moves in front of the sun but doesn't cover it completely. Sho said firebenders get weaker during it. Imagine what we could do with that!"

Ariya folded her arms, her gaze steady and unyielding. "And how exactly is that our problem? Or solution? The guards aren't going to pack up and leave just because their bending is weaker. They've still got numbers. And weapons."

Tomo shrugged, undeterred. "True, but they'll be weaker. That evens the playing field a bit, doesn't it? If we time things right, we could—"

"Time what, exactly?" Ariya interrupted, her voice hard. "We don't know when this 'eclipse' thing will happen, how long it'll last, or even if it'll make a difference. You're chasing shadows, Tomo."

Tomo leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head with a carefree grin. "Shadows are kinda my thing. Besides, if there's even a chance this could work, isn't it worth looking into?"

Ariya scowled. "You always do this—jump headfirst into some half-baked idea without thinking it through. Newsflash: hope doesn't dig tunnels or break chains."

Tomo's grin faltered, but only for a moment. "Maybe not, but it keeps people moving. If there's even a sliver of a chance, isn't it worth chasing?"

For a moment, Ariya said nothing, her intense gaze fixed on him. Finally, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine. But if we're doing this, we do it my way. No running off, no stupid risks, and no dragging me into a mess you can't clean up."

"Deal," Tomo said immediately, his grin returning. "You're the boss, boss."

Ariya snorted, shaking her head. "You're insufferable."

"Thank you," he said with a mock bow.

Over the next few days, Tomo and Ariya began their search for answers. They approached the older miners during breaks, weaving their questions into casual conversations to avoid drawing attention.

"Ever heard of a partial eclipse?" Tomo asked a grizzled man with a scar running down his cheek.

The man snorted, shaking his head. "Eclipse? You mean that nonsense about the moon eating the sun? Superstitious drivel. Got no place here."

Another miner, a wiry woman with calloused hands, simply shrugged. "Never heard of it," she muttered, turning away.

The few who didn't outright dismiss them either had no knowledge of the phenomenon or refused to speak at all. Most seemed too weary, too beaten down by years of labor to entertain such questions.

By the end of the third day, Ariya's frustration grew. "This is a waste of time," she muttered after yet another miner shrugged them off.

"Not yet," Tomo said, his tone light but firm. "We'll find someone who knows something."

Ariya shot him a glare. "And what if we don't? Are you going to keep asking until Sho catches wind of it and decides to make an example of you?"

Tomo grinned. "Nah, I'll stop right before that happens."

Her glare intensified. "I'm serious, Tomo. This isn't a game."

"I know," he said, his grin softening. "But if we give up now, we'll never know if there was something we missed."

"This is hopeless," Ariya muttered as they returned to their quarters. "No one knows anything, and even if they did, they're too scared to talk."

Tomo frowned, his mind racing. He refused to believe it was a dead end. If Sho had mentioned the eclipse, it had to be significant. Someone, somewhere, knew the truth. They just had to find them.

That night, as Tomo lay on the cold, hard ground, his thoughts wandered. What if Ariya's right? What if I'm chasing something that doesn't exist?

But then he remembered his mother's words, spoken on the day his hands were crushed: The earth doesn't care about your injuries. It's always there, steady and unyielding. You just need to find your balance.

He clenched his fists, the memory fueling his resolve. This isn't about chasing shadows. It's about finding a way forward. If the earth doesn't move unless it wants to, then I'll make it want to.

The next day brought more of the same—dismissive answers, blank stares, and silence. Even the most talkative miners seemed unwilling to engage, their spirits worn thin by the grind of daily survival.

By the time their shift ended, Tomo and Ariya were no closer to uncovering the truth.

"I told you this was a waste of time," Ariya said, her tone sharp. "You're clinging to some fantasy, and it's not going to get us anywhere."

Tomo didn't respond immediately, his jaw tightening. Finally, he said, "I'm not giving up. Not yet."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. Do what you want. But don't drag me into it."

Despite their fruitless search, Tomo refused to let the idea go. He spent his shifts keeping one ear open for any scraps of information, watching Sho and the guards for hints or clues.

Ariya, though exasperated, couldn't help but admire his persistence. Even as she scolded him for his recklessness, she found herself silently rooting for him to succeed.

As they lay in their quarters that night, the flickering firelight casting shadows on the walls, Tomo broke the silence.

"We'll figure it out," he said softly. "We always do."

Ariya didn't respond, but the faintest smile tugged at the corner of her lips.