Author's note: Thanks for adding Tensions to your reading list! Enjoy!

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August:

The capitol loomed largely in the distance.

August could scarcely believe that all his twenty-one years had led up to this-the trip of a lifetime.

"Mr.? Do you require any assistance?", a monotone feminine voice asked from the aisle.

Looking at the tall, muscular security personnel next to him, he politely smiled and motioned for her to leave.

If it were not for the fact that he had an obstructed view of the sky from the window seat, he probably would have hurled by now.

It was ironic that for someone who spent all their time studying the sky, being at such a high altitude was causing him so much dizziness.

However, showing weakness at this stage might mean that his elder brother, Klaus, who had tormented him saying that he was too chicken to participate in the trials, was right in his assessment.

Peering over his shoulder, he observed Klaus in his natural element-flying his family's Bubble 20EX-and by this point, probably gearing for landing.

When he had first thought of men that would were hellbent on world destruction and could entice his crush, there was no one more suited to the role than his older brother.

In life, he had never met anyone more likely to cause chaos than him.

"We'll be landing in a few minutes, gentleman," Klaus now stated over the intercom.

Now that the climate had finally stabilized after the weather incidents centuries ago that had destroyed the rest of the world, their glider managed to soar above the ground by harnessing wind energy from the Easterners that worked under his family.

It was only in forbidden books that he heard mention of airplanes that used kerosene as fuel...as if that would be allowed by Champ Paisible!

Unlike the humans of the past, August knew that their impact on the world was negligible at best. He harkened that was one of the few things he agreed on with the current Capitol city council leaders: the more efforts to reduce pollution, the better the world would be.

Speaking of the pollution, he had expected the Desert Flower to look a little bit more...different than what he observed below him.

A great Yellow Expanse broke way to reveal a luscious oasis filled with greenery and charcoal wood buildings whose tips tapped the clouds. With the binoculars provided for the first part of the competition, he could clearly view the Capitol residents milling about, stretching their hands in front of them for the daily afternoon yoga.

The Desert Flower's government strongly encouraged all their residents to take part in early morning tai chi and late afternoon yoga. Being from the East, he had never seen so many, both young and old, take part in something that seemed so ancient in practice, apparently older than Champ Paisible if that was at all possible, but the sight mesmerized the young adult into a sort-of hypnosis.

It was minutes later that he woke and found himself thrust face first into the window.

Pulling back, he massaged his forehead.

While he was in primary school, he had learned that the charcoal dwellings of the Capitol were made with a wood that had been modified to be stronger than steel by removing one of its key ingredients. Hundreds of years ago, scientists had made the discovery and used it to make one of the most environmentally friendly cities in Champ Paisible, barring the provincial municipality of El Guayacol, the only town in the South.

He had never been to El Guayacol, but had heard from some visiting lecturers at the Department of Chandani Studies at Dharini University, East Campus, that the Southern people liked to drink water from the rain that poured down on their territory and live in round huts that were supposedly bigger on the inside than they looked. First year-August had been skeptical, but knowing what he knew now, of how the Westerners wore leather skins in addition to climbing rocks like goats, nothing shocked him tremendously at this point.

His only lingering curiosity from that conversation was whether a member of the Southern people or a Westerner would get along, given the knowledge that people from these provinces were closer to living naturally than, say, those from the East or Northerners. Besides their obvious elemental bending differences, if it came down to it and the political battle was against provinces instead of being the same...

No. This is what he feared most above all. Lately, it was like his thoughts only led to what he wished to avoid.

No matter how he had used to pride himself on a (pretty) diffused mindset, lately it had been laser-focused on the topic of possible political revolution.

It was impossible for him to not think and yet, when he did, it was only of change...no progress.

Squeezing his eyes, he opened them only to be blinded by the bright light of the festivities commencing in the city.

He figured it was now time to face the music, extremely loud music that is. August could faintly pick up the festivities even from this height.

Not looking forward to the crowds pressing in on him, but knowing his journey was about to come to an end, he faced his younger brother, Trent, and said in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Let us land as we flew, gracefully."

At that exact moment, an announcement came on from the pilot's cabin.

"We are not going down there, August."

"We should first get acclimated to the height of the Western mountains if we are to compete successfully in the next part of the contest."

While Trent cheered and their security personnel, Bethany, roared with excitement, he closed his eyes in frustration.

After having viewed the Desert Flower from above, he had come to realize the Capitol's worth by how alive everyone seemed; the external beauty of the place matching the apparent contentment in their faces at simple things like a parade march.

This momentary experience that to him brought temporary elation, seemed to bring boredom to the remaining members of House Wolf.

Knowing he was about to land had at first been agonizing and stressful. However, if he could go back, and stare at the glorious sunset over the Desert Flower once again, he would gladly do it in a heartbeat.

Rising from his seat, he positioned himself away from his relatives as tears streamed down on his face.

The realization that he was crying for people he had never met...and for a city, he may never step foot in, hit him like a pile of bricks.

Is that what it means "to have loved and lost"?

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Author's note: Is there too much exposition? I've revised and edited it, but it still feels like one of my weakest chapters in this story.