Author's Note: This takes place in the exact same universe as my other fanfic, Avatar: The Next Legend. Is it a prequel? Concurrent with A:TNL(which is going to be completely reduxed, btw)? Pretty much unrelated aside from being in the same universe? Just have to read and find out. (Translation: I haven't made up my mind yet.)

Enjoy!

Avatar: A Man and His Spear
aka Van and the Staying Alive While People Are Trying to Kill Him…ness…ness.

Chapter 1: The Pit(s)

"Okay, here's how it works, lady and gentleman," I drawled from behind the cloth mask, not bothering to hide the fact that I've said this before, and was therefore bored of saying it. "You give us anything of value and we leave. It's that simple."

A threatening burst of flames seared through the air on my left. It washed against metal and left a semi circle of scorched paint on the hood. "So, no funny business and we won't have to get violent!" Ando barked at the expectedly freighted old man and his frumpy wife. Per bandit protocol, Ando cut them off with a stream of fire, forcing them to stop; and then I came and hit them from the side. Some shards from the glass I broke with my elbow were all over his lap and the floor. His face had a few cuts on it where he must've gotten some of the spray.

Our final marks were in their little green motorized wagon. For them to even have this hunk of metal, they had to be well off, despite them their rather modest dressings. The man had a simple light green and beige get up. His wife favored light purple and she had this funny headdress that gave the distinct appearance of a sheep pig with a pineapple on its head.

They had to see this coming. I mean, who takes these things this far from the city? They were slow and the hard, leather seats either chaffed or gave you ass sore. Sometimes they did both. Then the springs on each wheel did squat to absorb impacts. Each and every bump and divot in the road is transferred directly to your tailbone.

Isn't that a great way to ride at 20 miles per hour? This thing not only promised that you'd get where you're going slowly, but in the most discomfort possible. The fact that people actually bought the things was baffling. Honestly, I didn't even need the ostrich-horse. I could've damn well walked them down. Backwards.

Did they think just by driving in a wooded area in the middle of the day they'd be safe? Like their midday joyride would go unbothered because they weren't actually in the desert? Give me a break. But, whatever, money is money. And if it comes from the stupid, so much the better. Particularly in my line of work. Which isn't actually work.

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes at Ando's self-contradicting threat. I couldn't look disinterested while I robbed these people. It sent the wrong message. They're supposed to be afraid, not mildly inconvenienced. "Yeah, so listen to the guy, and just drop everything in the sack." I gave the burlap sack I was holding an impatient shake. My ostrich-horse huffed and gave an impatient shake of its own. Since I was leaning down to be level with the car, I was off balance on the thing's back. It had to be uncomfortable for it.

The wife was quaking, so the husband tried to play the strong one. How sweet. "P-please, don't do this!"

This time I did roll my eyes. "I'm not interested in the ol' 'Please, I have a family' song and dance, gramps. I'm not going to kill you, but I can only speak for myself. I can't control my friend here's actions, and if you ask me, he looks itching to burn something besides metal. So if you don't want to get hurt, do what I say and give me your jewelry." My other hand held my spear and I had it leveled on them. I gestured into the car with the sharp end. "Let's start with the pretty pearl necklace."

His wife quickly took off her pearl necklace. "Oh goodness. Here, just…give him what he wants, How." Shaking like a leaf in a storm, she reached over and dropped it into the bag. She started with her earrings next. The husband's resolve stayed strong for a moment, but he relented and handed over a medium sized bag of pieces.

"That's all we have. Please, leave us alone," How said weakly.

I grunted. "Fine." I brought my ostrich-horse around, slid my spear back into its saddle holder, and said to Ando, "Let's get out of here."

He nodded and snapped the reigns for his ostrich-horse, not taking his eyes off the couple. They wouldn't take their eyes off him either. Just as he was passing up their window, he stopped. How and his wife both flinched.

Before I could demand why, Ando grated, "They're holding out on something." He reached into the vehicle, bringing screams out of the old lady, and roughly grabbed How's arm by the wrist. How whimpered tried to resist, but Ando was pretty strong. He held up How's hand so I could see it. "See?"

I frowned. "See what?" I was already halfway into the trees and the sun was in my eyes.

"Their rings. They didn't give us their rings."

Even from this distance, I could see the color drain from the faces. How was still resisting. Desperate, he grabbed Ando's arm, digging his fingernails into Ando's flesh.

Oh crap. Not good.

How protested, "No! Anything but our wedding rings! Please-"

Ando snarled and punched How in the face. Ando pulled him roughly out the wagon, through the broken side window, as How's wife continued to scream. Ando ripped the ring off How's finger and did the same to his now shrieking wife, who was feebly shielding herself with open palms. The punch knocked How out cold.

"Damn it, Ando!" I cursed began bringing the ostrich-horse back around. This noise could attract someone.

And quickly mounted and rode up to me. "We got what we came for. Let's go," he rumbled to me. He gave his reigns a snap and continued past me. I gritted my teeth in frustration and went after him. I stole a glance over my shoulder before we disappeared through the woods. The woman had crawled out of the wagon and was shaking How, begging him to get up. His head was twisted at an awful angle. He wasn't moving.

"Let's go!" Ando snapped. "What are you looking at?"

I swallowed down a hard breath, took my eyes off the most likely widowed old woman, and picked up the gallop. "Nothing, Ando. Nothing at all."

The Si Wong Desert.

After six months out here, I never could figure it out. Why would anyone choose to live out here? It's hotter than being sandwiched between two fat people, in the middle of a sauna, which was in the middle of a volcano. And then at night it turns into the middle of winter in the North Pole (that is if you can even say it's anything but winter up there, right?). Add to that the constant lack of water and having to ride on animals that smelled bad even when they weren't sweating and it's just a miserable condition to live in. No two ways about it: The desert sucks, but damn it, it's a great place to get away with whatever you want.

And it's also a good place to disappear.

So, I guess I had my answer.

We stopped at a coral and traded our ostrich-horses for elk-camels like we always did. The owner didn't ask, didn't tell; which made him perfect for a couple outlaws. It didn't hurt that my boss paid him to keep quiet just incase. And in general, it was wise to not betray a guy like my boss. My boss felt we needed steady access to elk-camels when moving in and out of the desert, and he was right.

You may not know it, but ostrich-horses don't like sand. Their feet don't distribute weight well and they sink in a few inches with every step, forcing them to pull each step out of the sand. Very tiring. They don't like heat either and need a lot of water to function. Put that together with only having enough water for the human riders, and you're walking the rest of the way about 2 hours in, lamenting the death of your steed. Elk-camels' feet are wide and they don't sink in. And their humps store plenty of fat and water for them, so they can take the heat. Only downside is they're extremely slow.

After 4 hours of skin peeling riding, I pulled the wraps from my face, threw back my head, and gulped down a big mouth full of water. It was bitter and there were little flakes of dirt in it. There were about 50 wells peppered throughout the desert, and only 8 good ones. The nearest of which was a two day trek away. So I had to settle for the dirty, filth water.

"Yet another reason I hate the desert," I grumbled to myself.

Through the hazy, mirage causing air, we came to a spot in the desert where the ground gradually started to rise as it came to the dune. Our elk-camels picked up the pace before they got the kick to the ribs. Our hauls made us a bit heavier than normal. Figures they wouldn't like it much.

I patted it on its head, "Don't worry girl, not much farther. You'll be stuffing your craw with moldy dates and roots in no time. Of course, I'll be eating the good stuff myself. But, none for you. Good food is people food" The elk-camel shimmied around beneath me, nearly shaking me off. "Okay, okay, you can have some too. Picky animal."

Ando snorted at me and my ride's little conversation. Ando's a regular ray of sunshine. And since it's the desert, that makes him about as welcome a glass of red wine in a closet full of white wedding gowns.

Me and Ando never saw eye to eye. We only worked together because our boss wanted us to. I was never a supporter of Firebenders living in my backyard thanks to that World Reborn Act. I'm too young to have fought in the 100 Year War proper, but I still had it out with some rebel Fire Nation factions. I've been Firebent at. I don't like it very much. And having one of them sleeping in a tent near me just…didn't sit right. I don't think I'll ever trust him, and he knew it. I even heard he was part of the Fire Nation army that went rogue, though he'll never say if it's true.

Needless to say, I know how some Firebenders can act, and I don't like it either. I've tried to exercise that "tolerance" stuff, but it isn't working. I see Ando and I think of him being one of the bastards that hurled fireballs at my head. Because of that I often find myself holding onto my spear a little too tightly when I'm around him. As if I'm expecting, at any moment, for him to turn on me. Paranoid or not, the feeling was real.

They say try to find some common ground, but there just wasn't any. We weren't anything alike and didn't share a thing in common other than a dislike for each other. Even physically we were different.

I'm young, not far past 24. Ando wasn't. He was maybe, 39 or something. My brown hair is medium length, and I don't get much chance to keep it neat, so I just brushed it with my hand or threw on a bandana in the morning. I was mostly clean shaven, though some stubble had grown in since I'd been out. Ando had jet black hair that he kept tied in a top knot and the most ridiculous sideburns I've ever seen. They nearly formed a beard on him. I'm on the sunny side of average height. Maybe 5'9", 5'11" on a good day, but I definitely wasn't tall. I also wasn't a weightlifter or did a great deal of working out, but I practice with my spear enough and have been in a very good amount of scrapes, so I had a well muscled body, if I do say so myself. Still, I wasn't very big through the shoulders. Ando was tall and he was a weightlifter, and he had shoulders than two small kids could stand on.

See? No common ground. No chance of seeing eye to eye. It's a fact right down to our physical make up. And it expanded mentally too.

Like earlier, while we were switching our cargo to the elk-camels, I stole a look at the rings he attacked old man How for. The damn things were faded and ancient. That couple probably was married for over 50 years and those rings had to be just as old. The things were worthless. And were definitely not worth killing over.

I'd say as much to Ando, but he's too thick to understand. Not to mention I didn't need any rumors of me being soft spreading. I had built up a hefty reputation. I wasn't about to ruin it for something like this. Ando was a brute, but what can I say? It isn't like I wasn't there stealing form those people too. And the old man did grab him. I probably would've hit him too.

But still…

Officially, the shanty down didn't have a name, but I still took the liberty of calling it "The Pit". It was located in a hollowed out sand dune, and was home to a bunch of thieves and murders. See what I did there? The Pit? Hole in the ground, filled with the dregs of society? Yeah, classic comedy.

The Pit was a microcosm of the dissimilitude in poverty and opulence. Not my words by the way, as I'm not totally sure what that even means. I think it has something to do with how poor and run down every tent was. Nearly all of the tents were patchwork, basically giant quilts. Varying and faded colored fabric all tied together with an amateur sewing needle and thrown over some sticks in the sand to make little tents.

The results often gave you one of those new convection ovens instead of a cool shelter from the hot desert sun. Like my own for example. Turns out, I had to flip my tent inside out to get something passable to live in. Though, it was one of the better makeshift tents, if I do say so myself.

Of course, my own tent was nothing compared to the boss man's.

Xin Mao didn't do things by small degrees. And I mean that in every possible application of the phrase. His tent was easily four of mine's. And it was made of the exact fabric tents are supposed to be made off. It kept all outside heat out while still being able to breathe a little. And at night, it kept the right amount of heat in. The fabric was all gold trimmed purple with tassels bigger than my head hanging from each the four corners. Subtle.

As we rode through, a young sandbender named Mal Kha, waved and trotted over. Mal was a typical kid, bright eyed and eager to prove himself, but not quite ready to put in the work. He might not ever be cut out for this work actually. He was the one who came up with the microchasm or whatever line. The kid was pretty smart, but for whatever reason, he looked up to me. He's got a heck of a choice in role models. But, given a choice between me and his pops, Harai, Xin Mao's right hand man who basically sold out his tribe for the money and power Xin Mao promised, I couldn't blame him.

"Good to see you back, Van. Ando," he mused, somewhat more…reserved than his usual greeting.

"Good to be back," I said.

We didn't stop, so he had to walk next to us. He kept looking around, like he didn't want anyone to hear him. "Got a good haul this time, huh?"

I smiled, though he couldn't see it since my head was still wrapped. "Only kind of haul I know how to get, kid."

Ando snorted from ahead of me. Was it just me, or was he a tad closer than he had been a moment ago?

"Oh? Well, that's good." Mal gave a pensive glance at Ando, and then he looked back at me. Then at Ando again.

What the...? "Something wrong, Mal?" I asked.

"Uh…no. Nothing. Why would you ask?"

I shrugged. "You just seem nervous. Maybe a little distracted."

He faked a laugh. "What? Me? What makes you think that??"

"Well for one…" I paused and waited for it. Then I said, "You just walked through a pile of elk-camel crap."

"Huh?" He looked down at his feet. "Awww, man!" He started hopping around, trying to slap the mess off. He only succeeded in getting it on his hands, which he then transferred to his clothes.

I burst out laughing. "Yeah, you'd better get that wiped off, kid."

Mal took off, but he gave me one last look ahead. Straight at Xin Mao's tent. As I rode, I saw a few other sandbenders and fellow bandits. They all gave me sidelong glances and murmured to each other just out of ear shot.

Something isn't right…

I dismounted and unloaded my stuff. I brought all I could carry, while still leaving room for my spear. It was awkward and everything was heavy, but gold be damned, I wasn't leaving my spear where I couldn't see and get to it. I wouldn't abandon my weapon even under normal circumstances, but definitely not when Mal was going through a lot of trouble to make me aware of…something. Ando's swag was heftier than mine, so he was still unloading as I walked past. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into Xin Mao's tent.

This guy was a real piece of work. Despite an obvious shortage of food, he had a belly that would make a hippo-cow jealous and despite being uglier than sin, he still managed to keep three beautiful women around him. I wouldn't complain through. I'd much rather travel the desert with a tribe with a leader that likes women than with the kind that don't.

His personal harem was at his side feeding him grapes. I don't care what anyone says, but someone made grapes the way they were just for the sole purpose of allowing women to feed them to men one by one off the bunch. They just worked too perfectly to that effect for there to be any other explanation. And I always wondered how he always kept fresh grapes way out here, but that's just what being rich means, I guess. Grapes don't raisin up if you've got more gold pieces in your pocket than the population of most towns.

I could go for some hand fed grapes from a beautiful lady myself, actually. Desert life can get lonely and men who ransack land trawlers for cargo weren't quite husband material, so most tribes were comprised entirely of men. In fact, I'd say that there might've been more water wells in Si Wong Desert than women. So, when life gave sandbender's lemons they...I didn't even want to think about it.

With all these things in mind, I traipsed right on in. If I had been anyone else, Xin Mao's bodyguards would've hacked me into dog meat for just waltzing in on their leader without announcing himself, but I'm not anyone else.

Xin Mao spread his chunky arms wide. "Ahh, Van! Made off with some good loot have you?" In case you didn't catch it, Xin Mao suffered from delusions of grandeur. Like his big purple tent, his elaborate dress was purple too. He had this big poofy headdress that was crisscrossed with golden beads. And he had this sickly sweet smelling incense burning that gave covered the room in a hazy filter. He thought he was the king of the freakin' world. Truth was he wasn't even close.

Xin Mao was a throwback to hundreds of years ago when the Earth Kingdom was ruled by several warrior kings. Truth was not all of those kings were warriors. Some were fat slobs like the one in front of me. Using others to do their dirty work. Warrior? Xin Mao? Don't make me lose my lunch.

He wasn't even as powerful as he liked to think he was. Sure, he was the Si Wong Desert's most ruthless baron, but outside of this desert? He had nothing. The world was changing fast, and he was staying the same. For this kind of trade, the money and power was in industry. Trafficking and smuggling your way to cornering a market in the business world was in. Ransacking and robbing and ruling on fear was out. Soon Xin Mao would be irrelevant, swept to the wayside. And I bet he knew it too.

Xin Mao may be good at fooling everyone else, but I knew what he really was. He may seem powerful and tough, but I bet when push came to shove, Xin Mao was nothing but a gutless (so to speak) coward. I only worked under him because…well, I had nothing else better to do and needed to be someplace away from the people I know. So, for the time being, I'd let him be my boss.

I slipped a bag from my shoulder and tossed it in front of Xin Mao's big futon thing. It landed with a jingle. "You tell me, boss."

Xin Mao smiled at my standard show of disrespect and waved for one of his lackeys to go through the bag. He took out a silver plated...plate. There was also some other eating utensils in the bag including a rather large fork. The bodyguard looked annoyed. Xin Mao looked confused.

Doing my best not to laugh, I simply shrugged and said, "I thought you would enjoy the new silverware." I bared my teeth in a sly grin. "No, the real stuff is in here." I tossed the rest over.

The lackey opened one up and his face lit up as he took out a long pearl necklace. The same lifted from the old wife. Two of the beauties at the big sack of fat's side, named Itsumi and Yura crawled over, letting out the traditional "oooh, ahhh" sound. Only Siyo remained, looking uninterested in all of it. She flicked a glance my way. I gave her a slight nod and a wink, but for some reason she didn't respond other than quickly looking away. Weird.

Shuffling on their knees -a position I bet they were used to- Yura and Itsumi brought some trinkets back to Xin Mao and at the same time asked, "Can I have this?"

"Absolutely, take whatever you like." He said with a dismissive wave of his fat, ringed hand. "A job well done as always, Van. As I'm sure you've already taken your cut, you can go," he said waving his hand slightly sipping from a cup with the other.

"You know it boss man. See ya later," I turned to leave, but was staring a man in the chest. It was Ando's chest. He was blocking my exit.

I looked up at Ando then back at Xin Mao. "Uh...you mind telling him to move?"

Xin Mao made the guy move, but it wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Xin Mao nodded slightly and Ando punched me in the stomach. Hard. It felt about like my insides had just been knocked out through my back. The muscles in my stomach began to spasm. I doubled up. Oh…this hurt. The spasm felt…alive! They traveled through my body, and up to my head. My lungs tried to suck in a breath but couldn't find any. Oh, man, was that blood on my stomach?!

Damn. Sometimes…I hate being right.

Why the hell didn't I see it sooner? Mal wasn't just warning me about Xin Mao's tent, he was warning me about Ando too!

Play it coy for now, maybe I can talk my way out of-

Wait. What the hell had I done anyway? I don't need to play it coy; I was coy.

There came a moment of silence, save for my attempts to breathe, as Xin Mao climbed to his stubby feet. "Van, Van, my dear Van. Look at what you made me do. Oh Van, a man such as myself doesn't get to where I am by being a fool. I have to be smarter than anyone else and not let anything get past me."

"Like anything coated in sugar or slathered in gravy?" Is what I wanted to say, but I was still struggling to breathe. Ando was a brute, but damn it, I didn't realize he could hit that damn hard. I knew without a doubt now that the old man was dead. And I also knew that the old man was the least of my worries. I didn't even recall when I fell face first on the ground. I tried to move, but…my limbs felt like they weren't a part of my body. I could feel them, but it felt like they were a hundred feet away. It was something like talking to a person across a canyon. You had to shout, but all they'd hear were garbled echoes.

And then I ate three bowls of orange lettuce cream.

What the hell was that?

Rough, callused hands dragged me to my feet, supporting me with vice grips on my arms. Out of the corner of his eye, Van saw Harai, Mal's deposed old man, holding his spear. I don't even remember dropping-

You shouldn't read while juggling tanks, mister!

-it.

What the hell was happening to me? Was I this out of whack feeling from a single punch to the gut? I took a look to my left and saw Ando's hand. That's it. The bastard used a stinger on me.

The stringer was an interrogation tool for Firebenders. It was a glove with a tiny spike on the middle finger, just below the knuckle. Only a Firebender can use it. I knew I knew how the thing worked, but I couldn't think straight anymore. In fact…that's exactly how it worked. It did something to my-

Ever played the Tsungi horn with your belly button?

-chi network and made the person it was used on disoriented and made their mind start…flipping the hell out, but I could still feel sensation. I could still hear clearly, but I couldn't talk right. If I could string more than three thoughts together, I could remember-

The apple ate the piece of bread and unleashed the Avatar State on the big footed cactus.

-the trick to beating it…

"I like you, Van. I really do. That's why I took you in, clothed you, gave you food, women. And when you agreed to return the favor by joining us, I allowed that. But I can't let anyone make a fool out of me. And I definitely can't let anyone sell me out."

Sell him out?

Blatantly bubbles burst before buff babies.

What was he talking about again?I had a small migraine growing behind my eyes. Crap, what was the trick? Something about…a sea?

Xin Mao snorted as he waddled closer, still holding that cup of wine. "Look at that face. Even when I've caught you red handed you feign ignorance? Disgraceful and frankly, I thought you were better than that. Of course, I also thought you were better than outright betrayal, but then again, I should've known better. Given your history."

My mouth felt wired shut, and my tongue seemed to turn into a piece of dead meat, but I finally managed sucked in enough air and work around the disconnected body to spit out coherent sounds "Do'...kno'...wha'...ta'kin'... bou'...!" Maybe not all that coherent. I've got to stop bursting blatantly buff babies… No, that's not it. Gah! My head was spinning-

I'd like to park a train on the other side of the old lady's favorite playpen.

-like a sea caught in a…

Wait. Sea? The sea of chi! The stomach! That's what the stinger does. It's just like what that acrobat who fought the Avatar way back when did by hitting pressure points, only far more imprecise. It throws off your bodily control functions by using their chi to interfere with your own. The only downside for the Firebender is the effect is reversible. I just needed something to jolt my system. Something like a-

Mixing the giant-

Bright red pain flashed in my face where Xin Mao backhand slapped me. His rings hurt and I tasted blood. "Enough of this game, Van. Lang Mi, Ayako, and Chung are all dead. They were ambushed by another sandbender tribe at the hidden cave. No one but the people in this room and them knew where that cave was. So someone would have to tell them. I know I didn't tell. I know my personal bodyguards didn't either, so that only leaves one option, Van. Care to guess who it might be?"

What's this? No more crazy, random thoughts?

Yes! Thank you, Xin Mao! I could think clearly now. My body felt whole again. But, that didn't mean he needed to know that…

Through gritted teeth I rasped, deliberately breaking up my words to match the last time, "Why… wou'… I… te'… an'… ota'… tri… anythi'..? Dey… kill'… ma… on… sight!"

Xin Mao grabbed me by the face. "No, Van, they'd kill a Shinei on sight. You're not a Shinei. You're an outsider with no real loyalties to anyone. Your skin color is proof that you weren't born in the desert." He let my face go and started pacing, or should I say waddling? "What I think happened is you were the one who got ambushed. Faced with probable death, even without being a member of a tribe, you panicked. You knew there was no other way to avoid being killed so you told them about the cave where I keep all of my treasure. I also believe that you lead them right to the cave yourself to prove you weren't lying." His face was more grave and serious than I had seen. "Or maybe...that's not what happened at all..."

I spat out some blood. "I… Do.... Kno…. Wha….Talk...'Bout!" my voice rose with each word. As soon as I got to "'bout" I was slapped again.

"Do not lie to me." Xin Mao looked sullen now. "The only reason you aren't dead yet, is twofold, Van: First, I want to know which tribe you sold out to, so I know precisely who needs to be crushed. And second, is because I need to know if I was right. Did you betray me to save your own life, or was it something you did on your own for money? Because, quite frankly, this has me at odds with myself. I'd actually be somewhat understanding if you did it to save your life. But, I know how good you are with that spear. Even ambushed, you wouldn't cower down. You'd most likely have died fighting unless you were hopelessly outnumbered. But, no, even then…you'd fight them. You'd fight them with all you had in you."

He was right. Hopelessly outnumbered? I've been in that situation before, and I'm still here. Xin Mao could bet his fat ass I'd fight. So, why the hell was he so sure it was me? I started to say something, but he only slapped me again. I was really starting to hate being slapped around, but it staved off the lingering effects of the stinger. So I'd endure, and listen to this festival of crap that was this whole situation.

Xin Mao continued. "But that's based of that assumption that I know you. I had actually fooled myself into thinking you didn't care about things like money. But, then I heard about what you did in your past...and well...I'm starting to wonder..."

"…your past…" "…given your history..."

That was the second time he brought that up and it didn't click until now thanks to Ando's stinger. How did he know? He could he know? I never told Xin Mao about my military service and the mess of how it ended. He had to hear it from somewhere, but who could possibly tell him?

My eyes drifted to the mattress where the beauties lay, all looking on what they thought would be an execution. All except one. Siyo, the only one of the group of beauties I ever knew on a personal level. Her head was down as she played with the pearl necklace she somehow had on. It was just a few shades lighter than her skin...her skin.

"Your skin color is proof you weren't born in the desert…"

I thought back to almost three weeks ago just after returning from one of the better hauls of my time here. Xin Mao threw a big party to celebrate. I hated his parties, mainly because he tended to not wear a shirt, or much else, and, take my word for it, Xin Mao was a man who never should take any article of clothing off. Ever. But, the party was being thrown in my honor. I didn't need to piss the big, sex crazed slob off, so I hoped I could repress my gag reflex and suffer through it.

It was a typical party. Some of the untalented members of the tribe had out some instruments and was playing a little tune, while everyone thrashed around Xin Mao's special, giant tent. There was a lot of food and stuff to get drunk off of. I stuck mostly to the drinks.

As a treat, Xin Mao offered me one of his women, knowing full well I'd probably turn him down like I always did. I didn't and don't want anything to do with a woman who has anything to do with doing anything to Xin Mao. I settled for drinking and eating till my hearts content. The food was alright, but the drink was off. I stopped at a bar in Gwanju once and had some of the new drink everyone was talking about called beer. It was love at first sip. It seems my suspicions of the new drink were right. It was only good cold. Either I could drink lukewarm beer or settle for the wine and sake, but those got me drunk too fast. I drank for the flavor, not to be stumbling over myself. So, I stuck to the beer.

I was in the middle of downing another cup, when I saw Siyo, sitting away from all the festivities. I didn't even I didn't recognize her as part of Xin Mao's usual group of women. In fact, I noticed that I didn't see Xin Mao's oldest eye candy, Fei Lu either. During the week I was out hunting for loot, something must have happened and she was replaced with Siyo. She noticed me at the same time and we just looked at each other.

She was a well toned and shapely woman. She had shoulder length dark brown hair. She was stunning, but not for any particular facial or bodily feature. It was the combination of all of them that made her a knockout. She didn't have the prettiest face; that honor went to Yura. She wasn't the most well stacked or had the longest legs; Fei Lu and Itsumi respectively won those prizes. But, she was the only one that had all three. She looked…radiant in that half naked, gem encrusted get up. Just looking at her body, you'd think every man in the room would be throwing himself at her, but they weren't. And I think I knew why.

Most women who sell their bodies have this submissive and broken look in their face, in their eyes. But, even from 20 feet away, I didn't see submission. I saw conviction. I saw strength. And most of all, I saw disgust. That wasn't the face of any harem girl I'd ever seen. And the party was supposed to be her element. This is what harem girls do. She looked the way I would look if someone dragged me to a kabuki play and forced me to sit and watch.

She wasn't enjoying herself, same as me.

Like I said, I stay away from Xin Mao's girls as a matter of principle, but my curiosity was begging for me to see what's what with her. Before I could pull myself off the big pillow, which counted for a chair in Xin Mao's world, Siyo got up first and walked through the throng. Walking to me.

She had an elegant, hip swaying walk. Each step was properly measured and even. The kind of controlled walk that you'd see on a fashion model. There was an odd little smile on her face as she approached me. As if she were regarding me, but then that's probably how anyone woman with intelligent eyes looks at any man.

And that's not what a bum looking to get a quick lay wants. A woman with spirit left in her. The kind of woman that actually considers herself a woman. Being in a harem girl just by the wording wasn't a woman's profession. Think about it: ever heard of a harem woman? Nuh-uh. Most of the men who went looking for them did it because they couldn't handle a real woman who still had integrity.

Plainly stated: Real women were only for real men. And real men don't use prostitutes.

Mal Kha, who was definitely too young to be seeing the kind of things going on in here, was walking around with a trey of wine, handing them out and making sure all the party goers stayed at just the right level of drunkenness. He passed in front of Siyo. She deftly relieved Mal's trey of a cup without him so much as noticing.

Okay. That was pretty cool.

She stopped just in front of me. She held the cup delicately in one hand as she folded her other arm under it. She gave me more of that little smile and said, "Enjoying the party, I see."

I casually drank the last of my beer. "Party? There's a party in here? I can't see past the big, fat man undulating like a jelly worm to badly played music."

Her smile spread a bit. "Well, that's not nice. Xin Mao's feelings would be hurt if he heard you say that."

I shrugged. "Yeah, he hates it when I bad mouth his music."

She let out a small humming sound that, I supposed, passed as a chuckle. "You're a daring man, Mr. Van. Most men wouldn't speak so ill of Master Xin Mao, especially not while in his employ."

I returned her smile. "I'm not like most men."

"I can see that." She eyed my spear, which was leaning against the large pillow I was sitting on. "Most men leave their weapons at home when attending a party." She tilted her head in a playful manner. "Or to see a large man dancing to unfavorable music."

I laughed now. "Guilty as charged and I do leave it at home." I glanced at my spear. "Home is wherever I am. So, I take it with me where ever I go."

She arched an eyebrow. "I didn't peg you as a nomad."

I arched one back. "I didn't peg you as the kind of harem girl that was more into talking than belly dancing."

Her smile opened to show pearly, white teeth. "I'm not like most harem girls."

"I can see that," I said evenly.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

I shook my head, just looking at her as she eased down next to me. It was most likely intentional on her part, but I caught a nice bit of cleavage on her way down.

Hey, just because I robbed people doesn't mean I can't enjoy the finer things in life without being a creep. Not every day you see a nice pale skinned…

Hey. Now that I thought about it, her skin was pale. Not extremely pale, just surprisingly pale. My own skin wasn't too far from that shade originally, but the months in the desert gave me a deep tan. I didn't really think much of it at the time. I was more interested in her.

So, we talked some more about working for Xin Mao, how I scored the big haul from that banker just outside of Gwanju, and other humdrum conversationalist junk. She got another round of beer for me. It tasted a little better this time around. And I kind of felt a bit more of a buzz after a few sips. I get pretty chatty when I'm buzzed, so whatever. She wanted to talk, so I talked.

It was kind of cloudy after that, but I didn't remember ever leaving for my tent, but I did remember lying half asleep in my tent as she massaged my back. And that's about all I can remember clearly after she walked up to me, to tell the truth. All I know is that it was the best massage I'd ever had and I just...talked. About me some of the time. No, actually, it was most of the time. No, actually…it was all of the time. I talked about me...and...Xin Mao. I was just rattling off stuff for her. Not really thinking about speaking because the massage was so good.

I could've told her anything she wanted me to tell her. That pale skinned beauty, Siyo; whose name I had to find out from Mal later the next day because I never asked her and she never gave it. The pale skinned beauty that showed up out of nowhere to replace Fei Lu because she died of unknown causes just a few days before I got back. That too I found out from Mal. The pale skinned beauty who didn't act or behave like a harem girl should and was more interested in getting me to talk.

And I could've told her anything. Anything at all even about where Xin Mao kept all the money and treasure he couldn't physically have on him in the…desert…

I cursed out loud. Loud enough to turn everyone's heads in a start.

"Siyo!" I snarled.

It wasn't a traditional distraction, but it worked for my intent. I stomped on Ando's foot. Hard. Heel met instep with appropriate, and self-satisfying, success. Ando cried out and I felt his head bend closer to mine. I snapped my head back, butting him in the nose. He immediately recoiled, releasing his vice grip on me. One of the beauties shrieked. Harai attacked, with my own spear no less.

For damn sure I wasn't about to be run through with my own weapon. I pivoted and grabbed the incoming thrust just past the tip. I bent low and let leverage and Harai's own momentum, who clearly had no experience with the weapon based on the awkward thrust and his grip, carry him over my body and into the other bodyguard. They landed in a heap.

I was now the only person holding my spear. Just the way it was always meant to be.

If I had any doubts about the kind of person Xin Mao really was, it was confirmed now: there were four people on the bed. Xin Mao and his three concubines. When I whirled the spear and pointed at them, only one of them wasn't cowering and whimpering like a little girl. It wasn't Xin Mao. It was Siyo her eyes were, instead of afraid and concerned, were dead serious. She was in a stance like she was ready to fight. But, in a confined space like this, unless she was a Firebender, I had the upper hand. I had the conniving bitch!

I lunged-

Siyo, somehow holding a fork, spun to the side of the tent and cut through before I could skewer her. She dove through the newly made hole. I blindly leaped through the gap after her.

Mistake.

After the extended period in the tent, my eyes were adjusted to the tent and the sunlight's glare nearly blinded me. I could hardly see the swath was being cut through the sand, straight where I was going to land. Instinct saved my skin. I jabbed the end of the spear into the ground and flung myself to the side, landing in a roll. The swath continued past and tore through the tent, collapsing it on everyone inside. I narrowly missed getting a leg sliced off. But, I wasn't worrying about that. I was already sprinting after Siyo. She was heading straight for a small mound just before the rise out of the dune, moving at unnatural speed. Each step was more like a small jump, and the sand beneath her feet shifted and rose in a perfect circle under each step.

In case I hadn't realized that yet, she was an Earthbender, my mind told me, and even though I'm not slow by any count, I had nothing on something using the sand to push off her steps. She made it to the mound, used a jumping gather, flared out her arms to her sides, and bent all the sand away, revealing a sand glider. A plume of sand shot her up and onto the glider and she started creating a sand current to propel the glider forward.

It should be noted that she was doing all this while wearing barely enough clothes to be considered actually wearing clothes. If I wasn't intent on killing her, I'd be enjoying the peep show.

And I'd hardly covered 30 feet in all this time, so I veered right, giving up trying to catch her on foot on account of acute impossibility. I ran to a tent with a special sleeping animal inside of it. The commotion in Xin Mao's tent drew everyone else out of their tent too. I heard Mal Kha shout my name. Someone else shouted something about stopping me, but nobody got to me before I'd torn into the tent and mounted Xin Mao's eel-hound. I snapped the reigns and the beast woke up and bounded out of the tent. I pulled hard to make the beast turn.

I'd never ridden the things before but had heard of how fast they were. The descriptions did the beast no justice. I pulled on the reigns too hard and the rapid change in direction nearly threw me off the thing. I nearly jabbed the thing in the ribs with my spear just to keep my balance. The eel-hound was fast, but by the time I rode to where Siyo had been, I lost sight of her. All I could see was a trail of sand that seemed to run straight into the inside wall of the dune.

The damn girl bent through the sand sailor through the dune. Furiously cursing like a sailor, I made the beast to climb the inside of the dune. We made it to the top but I still couldn't see her. Damn, how could I have lost her so damn quick? Not willing to give up, I urged the eel hound to run downhill and into the open desert.

I could feel veins in my neck popping out and my heart was hammering in my chest. The only thoughts I had were of how many limbs I was going to cut off and how many I'd just break. The skank framed me and I'd make her pay!

But, I didn't see any trace of her anywhere. It was the middle of the open desert. How in the world could she already be over the horizon so fast? Sand sailors were cumbersome and heavy. It took a team of at least two benders to keep the thing moving at even a decent clip, which was just as fast as an eel-hound on full gallop. Depending on the benders, it could go even faster, but got harder to control. The kind of speed I'm talking about here was ridiculous. And to top it off, she had to bend the thing through a large amount of sand at the same time. No one is that good a bender, short of the Avatar. And being a fat man's personal slut didn't seem like part of the Avatar's training. Not to mention the new Avatar hasn't even been revealed yet.

I cursed again. I'd been suckered with every man's weakness. I was a damn "pillow talker" now! If I was still in the army, they guys would never let me live that down. I slowed the beast to a slow crawl and started turning back. Man, these eel-hounds are something else. I'd already covered two miles or so, I was A group of other sand sailors were headed from The Pit.

And right at me.

"Oh crap," I murmured.

It happened again. Damn it, it happened again. I realized the truth and got so angry at Siyo, I didn't think. And I didn't explain anything to anyone. I just shouted at Siyo and started fighting. From Xin Mao's perspective, I not only sold him out, but I just tried to kill one of his girls, so she panicked and ran. And to top it off, I ruined his big fancy tent. Xin Mao can play the pacifist that wants to talk things out in the safety and comfort of his own tent, but that was just in a room with only his trusted confidants. Outside that tent, he really was ruthless. Oh sure, I felt he was weak in the grand scheme of things, but that doesn't take away from the mini empire he'd built.

He wouldn't have gotten where he was by being perceived as weak. And now that he had a reputation as a ruthless desert baron he could only uphold if I was killed, even if it meant not knowing the how and why. Like he truly wanted to know. He couldn't hear any explanation from me now. Being able to escape from him showed weakness to his men. He'd need to redeem himself. I'd just have to die and that would be that. Yet, only leaving the desert didn't solve things. Just because his power didn't extend beyond the desert, didn't mean his the men who worked under him couldn't. There's a good chance that even if I got away today, someone will be coming to kill me tomorrow.

I was just a desert wanderer, looking for some place to disappear, when I joined Xin Mao. It took me 8 months to become one of his top men. And I've become a pariah that had to die in less than 8 minutes.

It was all so ridiculous and messed up, I couldn't help but laugh at it all. It was probably the heat too. It can mess with your head. But, I was hysterical all the same. I gave a snap to the reigns, getting the eel-hound back around and into a full sprint away from the incoming bandits.

Ah, The Pit. Just more place I'm no longer welcome-

-to eat pineapple flavored banana skins dipped in buzzard wasp honey-

-anymore.

Ah, damn it.