Tai Lung's fists struck the air in practiced, deliberate patterns, precise and powerful, or as powerful as a child could manage, still it was far beyond what anyone his age should be capable of. His breathing was steady, his mind focused, his form near-flawless for someone with a body so small and undeveloped.
His mother watched from the veranda, arms folded beneath her sleeves, a conflicted expression on her face. It had been weeks now, months even, and Tai Lung rarely did anything but train. She had tried once again that morning, gently kneeling by his side and offering a warm smile.
"Tai, why don't you go play with the other children for a while? There's a festival in the market today. I'm sure they'd love to have you join."
Tai Lung had paused only briefly before replying in his usual calm, quiet voice, "I enjoy this more. I'll stop before I overdo it."
Then, without waiting for her response, he resumed his solitary routine, leaving his mother silently watching him, unsure whether to admire or worry.
Yet despite her unease, there was no denying his passion. He wasn't training out of obligation or mimicry, he wanted this, he enjoyed it for some reason she couldn't grasp. But since that was the case, then she would support him properly as his mother.
The next week, two new faces arrived at their estate.
One was a seasoned firebender and martial arts master, gruff but sharp-eyed, his posture commanding even in stillness. The other, a thin, well-groomed man dressed in long red robes, introduced himself as a tutor of etiquette and general education for noble families.
Tai Lung welcomed the change. He didn't resist the decision, on the contrary, he found it advantageous. Knowledge offered freely was better than piecing it together through silent observation. And firebending? That had become the flame that fed his very soul.
From the moment he began formal lessons, he noticed something strange. His body, while still developing, felt different inside. He could sense an additional energy center, a chakra point, that hadn't existed in his old life. He suspected this was what allowed humans in this world to bend elements with such ease.
And he intended to master it.
His firebending teacher, Master Ronzu, was astounded. Tai absorbed each lesson like a sponge. Movements, breathing techniques, stances, he remembered everything, applied everything, improved by the hour. There was fire in his strikes that shouldn't have existed yet. The teacher often stood speechless, then quickly shifted into excitement. Tai's talent was undeniable.
But if Master Ronzu's lessons were thrilling, the other teacher's lessons were the opposite.
The etiquette tutor, Meisho, lectured endlessly on posture, titles, tea ceremony rules, greeting gestures, and a hundred other trivial details that Tai could not care less about. He tried, truly, but many of these customs seemed so arbitrary. What did it matter how deep you bowed, or which spoon was used first at a banquet?
Still, he endured it. He did not protest. His parents had given him more than he could repay, and bringing shame to their house was not an option. So he nodded through lectures, memorized rules, and made sure his responses were perfectly polite.
Seasons passed.
One evening, in her private quarters, Lady Lung sat at her desk with a fresh scroll of parchment and began to write. The dim candlelight flickered gently as she poured her thoughts into words.
My dearest husband,
I hope this letter finds you safe and strong. I miss you terribly. Tai is growing so quickly, he is already speaking fluently and learning at an astonishing rate. His teachers can't stop praising him.
Master Meisho says Tai is the most obedient, intelligent, and perceptive child he's ever taught. He believes Tai has the makings of a great future statesman. And Master Ronzu, he is beside himself. He claims Tai's firebending progress is beyond belief. That within a year or two, Tai will possess the raw power of an adult bender. He insists Tai must attend the Royal Academy. Anything less would be a waste of divine talent. He calls him a firebender born once in a millennium, greatness is his destiny.
I am so proud of our son. You would be too. I pray for your victory every night and look forward to the honor you'll bring when you return home.
She set the brush down and released a slow, tired breath. Her eyes lingered on the closed window. It had been over a year since she last saw her husband. The silence of his absence echoed loudly at night.
Her gaze drifted toward the outer garden where Tai Lung often trained. Her son was a marvel, bright, driven and disciplined. She felt nothing but pride watching him grow.
And yet… a shadow lingered.
Tai Lung didn't play like the other children. He didn't laugh with them. He showed no interest in toys, in games, in companionship. His world revolved entirely around training and firebending. It was as though he were a miniature adult in a child's skin.
She hoped it would change.
"Next year," she whispered to herself, "he'll enter the Royal Academy. There, he'll meet other children. He'll learn to laugh. To live. To do something beside training"
She pressed her hand against her heart, as if holding that hope in place.
And outside, in the moonlight, Tai Lung continued his silent routine, fire swirling around his small hands as he trained for the life ahead.
___________
Tai Lung stood in the center of the training courtyard, his bare feet planted firmly on the stone tiles, the morning sun glinting off his sweat-covered skin. His breathing was calm and measured as he exhaled and with it came fire, fierce and controlled. A flame danced from his palm, twisting and curling with precision.
He had done it.
With the guidance of Master Ronzu and tireless personal training, Tai Lung had finally reached a point where he no longer feared losing control. Fire answered his will now. It came when summoned and vanished when dismissed. No longer did he scorch the grass without him meaning to. His mastery had grown.
And now, he was ready to go further.
Alone in the quiet hours between lessons, Tai Lung began to test beyond the standard teachings he received. He returned to the foundation of his old life, Kung Fu, and began experimenting, weaving fire into his strikes, kicks, and movements.
It started simple. A jab followed by a jet of flame. A sweeping kick that left a trail of fire in its wake. But soon, his curiosity drove him deeper.
What if he could enhance the fire not with movement, but with his chi?
He focused inward, calling forth the energy that had once been second nature to him. As he channeled fire through his arm, he guided chi along with it, but kept it contained, not letting the energy leave his body until the moment just before the flame emerged.
The result was dramatic. The fire surged in size and strength, roaring out like a wild beast suddenly unchained. It was hotter, wider, more aggressive. Yet when Tai Lung tried it again, this time allowing the fire to leave his body first before infusing it with chi as it escaped, something incredible happened.
The fire turned blue.
It flared brighter and burned far hotter than anything he had seen before. It danced like liquid lightning, dangerous and beautiful.
He stared at his hand, astonished, the last wisps of blue flame fading into the air.
Driven by curiosity, he approached Master Ronzu the next day. "Teacher," Tai Lung asked, "are there other forms of firebending? Like… different types of fire?"
The old man nodded. "Only a few in each generation develop talents that go beyond the norm. The royal family, for example, they can bend lightning, a highly advanced form of fire. Others, rare ones in our history, have been able to produce blue flame, a hotter and more destructive flame. But such talents are uncommon. Most of us follow the standard teachings."
That answer, though vague, gave Tai Lung clarity.
The firebenders of this world didn't truly understand why some people could bend lightning or blue fire. It wasn't taught like the other fire bending forms or passed down through known techniques, it simply was something the talented few can do once they follow some steps. They used chi in every movement, in every flame they summoned, but they didn't consciously know it or precisely control it. Not the way he did.
They were walking a path blindfolded. He had lived that path.
So Tai Lung made a decision. He would keep his findings, his blue fire and his chi experiments, to himself. For now.
There was still so much to learn about this world. Its bending, its people, its philosophies. He needed to understand more before he revealed anything. Especially the secrets held by the royal family. He would bide his time and watch, wait for the opportunity to witness lightning bending firsthand.
Until then, he would train in silence, he would grow to become a feared warrior like his previous life.