A/N: Nope, don't own any character or setting seen in Avatar: The Last Airbender. Suri, Khala, and Romji are mine; duh. Hope for some feedback. The Spirit Warrior theory is totally mine, by the way.
Spirit Warriors were created to care for the world during dark times when the Avatar of Old died and the Avatar of Young came of age. For twelve years the Warriors created an equal balance between the elemental nations. Once the Avatar came of age the Warriors were given the opportunities to either live a life as they pleased under one nation or to help the Avatar in his quest to learn the elements.
Once Roku passed a new Avatar was born. The Spirit Warriors were given charge in their homelands as mediums between the mortal and spirit worlds. As the twelve years passed the Warriors grew old and some older. At last the Avatar came of age and the Warriors resigned. Not too long after the resignation of the Warriors did the Avatar vanish; the cycle went on. Every twelve years the Warriors would die and a new group would be born. This was the mutated cycle that began at the death of the last Avatar.
Young children would fall ill weeks within sight of the end of their twelve year reign and would soon pass to the spirit realm. Being a Spirit Warrior was a blessing and a curse. Fire Lord Sozin of the Fire Nation hunted the Warriors and used them in his search for the new Avatar, as well as in his plans of world domination. They were taken from their homes in the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, and even a few were taken from the Air Nomads before they were completely wiped out. In the Fire Nation the Warriors were hailed as gods and goddesses, high above any other element. All citizens of the Fire Nation desired to be like the Warriors.
Sozin's reign lead to ruthless battles on the fronts against the Water Tribes and Earth Kingdom. For years the Water Tribes resisted the attacks due to the cold environment that kept the Fire Nation at bay. In turn, the Earth Kingdom fell prey and soon colonies popped up on the coast of the Kingdom. One-hundred years have passed since then, a new Avatar has been born, a new Fire Lord has been crowned, and the lives of the Warriors have lengthened. If the Avatar is not found and does not bring the world to complete peace, the Warriors will die again. He is the only solution to the crude cycle.
In a small village, miles away from the bustling city of Omashu, a young girl sat in a dimly lit room in ceremonial clothing. Her brown hair cascaded over her green clad shoulders in mock curls; her legs curled under her, a white-gray dress fanning out around her. The girl's mouth was set in a grim line, her eyes stone cold as she stared down at the Earth Kingdom pendant on the wooden table. She moved her hands from her lap and placed them on either side of the pendant. Instantly the girl closed her eyes tight and became very still. She had thrown herself into the Spirit World.
Grass curtains covered the two windows in the small room, giving off only a yellow glow. The heavy door was bolted shut in three places for no interruptions. The middle-aged man sitting across the round table kept a steady gaze on the young girl. The solid amount of leather the man wore and the grass colored cloth that adorned his shoulders and chest suggested he was an Earth Kingdom soldier.
The girl opened her eyes, "They are moving south. There is something about Ba-Sing-Se."
The man grunted, "They're going to attempt a take over."
The pair sat in silence as the girl turned the olive colored pendant in her hands. She rubbed her thumb over the Earth symbol on the front, and then over the inscription on the back:
Let the stars guide you, let your heart decide.
She closed her eyes once again and sucked in a breath, "She loves you, very much."
The soldier stood silently and bowed to the girl. In the blink of an eye the girl stood and was at the bolted door, sliding back all of the locks. The soldier turned to her with a confused look on his face, and then found that the pendant had been left on the table. The girl jerked the door open to reveal a pair: a tall young man, and a shorter old man. The girl narrowed her eyes and turned a fraction to the soldier in the room, "If you will please excuse us, sir. I hope I have helped your cause."
The soldier nodded and strode to the girl and the door; he stopped briefly beside the girl, soaring far above her own height, and bowed his head in thanks. He moved passed the two in the door way, "Excuse me."
The girl made sure all was clear from the doorway before shutting the door tightly in the faces of the two who had just arrived. She turned to her table and began clearing the top of scrap paper, dirt, and inks. A knock came from the door. The girl placed her things in a drawer and brushed the dirt into the floor before returning to the door and opening it to reveal both the young and the old man. The young man was tall, but stooped to help the elderly man.
"Excuse me, but we were told we could find a doctor here." The elderly man spoke in a haggard tone.
The girl narrowed her eyes once more at his words and glanced up at the young man. The young man's face was taught and stony, no emotion broke the surface. The elderly man spoke again,
"My nephew and I have been traveling, and we are not so avid in these parts. I seem to have accidentally taken to the White Jade Bush."
The girl looked to the old man and then down the street, "If you hurry you will not die."
The old man smiled gratefully and hurriedly stepped into the building, his nephew right behind him. The girl quickly shut the door and bolted the locks before turning to the men. She gestured toward the cushions on the floor and went to a cabinet hung on the far wall. The two sat uncomfortably on the floor and waited for the girl to attend to the old man's forming rash.
"Please, remove your shirt."
The girl came back and set a small container of an ointment on the round table. She knelt on her knees and slapped at the man's hands as he lifted them to scratch, "You must not be from this area. The White Jade isn't for drinking, let alone touching." She began dabbing the ointment on the man's face, arms, and upper torso.
"Yes, Lee and I-"
The girl's hands did not falter as she said, "There are no need for those names. I know who you are."
The old man and his nephew looked at each other, the girl did not stop with her actions nor words, "It isn't safe for you to be traveling so carelessly; a revered general and a crown prince."
Silence rang noisily as the girl finished with the ointment and reached to the table for a glass of some sort of liquid. The general and prince sat solemnly in the dim light. The girl handed the glass to the old general, "Drink this, it will flush out the poison."
"If you don't mind me asking: what is your name?" The general asked over the rim of the glass.
The girl looked up, "It isn't of any concern," and waited for him to finish, "My name is Suri."
"You seem very young for such a thing." His gravely voice prodded.
Suri picked up the ointment and took the glass from the old man, "You will be needing a safe place to stay the night, General Iroh, so please, you're welcome to stay here." She took the containers to a large bowl under the cabinet.
"You are kind."
Suri placed the ointment back in the cabinet and rinsed the glass in the bowl, "It's nothing any person wouldn't do for a good man."
The Crown Prince sat still with his hands balled on his knees. He said no word of any kind and made no gesture to be gentlemanly as Suri brought two pallets for them to sleep on. He only watched her with great caution. She rolled out the beds and double checked the door's locks before locking two hidden latches at the top and bottom of the door. Suri then proceeded to pull shut hatches made of wood closed over the curtains. And he still watched her. She finally turned to him,
"Is there anything I can get you, sir?" Her tone was angry.
"My nephew is not a man for small talk. He... wasn't expectant of any of this hospitality." Iroh intervened.
Suri smiled, "You must not know the great honor you have done for us, your highness. A great honor indeed." She pulled on the last hatch and settled onto the cushion behind her table.
"How is it an honor?"
She glanced at the scarred boy, "Without you in your father's court and out on the streets of the Earth Kingdom anything could happen in the Royal Palace. With so many of the Fire Nation troops looking for you and the General, something is bound to happen."
"Is that a threat?" He leaned ever closer over the table.
"No, Prince Zuko. Only fact," Suri stood and turned to exit the room, "If you will please excuse me."
The brunette girl floated out of the room with her skirt billowing around her. Zuko watched her leave and then turned red faced to his uncle, "That was a threat uncle. She's going to give us away."
"Calm yourself, Zuko. She is a helping hand, do not bite it."
"But what if she lets it slip that we're here? Uncle, the Earth Kingdom will kill us."
Iroh scratched a clear spot on his head, "Yes, you are right. We must be careful; if the Fire Nation finds us we will be in Azula's palm. This girl does not seem as threatening as she wishes you to see her," the old man gestured to the far wall where the cabinet hung, "Look around."
The cabinet was green with a single red door. Thick black lines adorned the faded paint and seemed quite recently brushed into place. The Lotus was the single image in the entire room, including the girl's attitude, which gave the two travelers comfort. They would be safe for the night, which was all that mattered.
Morning came swiftly; a watercolor sky. Suri had not come back to the front of the house after the spat between Zuko and her. He lay with his back to the core of the house, eyes open pondering what to do. He had not slept a wink in fear of missing the moment the girl stepped out to catch the attention of the closest soldier. But she hadn't left through the front.
"Don't worry, Prince Zuko, I won't tell."
The young firebender jumped at the sound of Suri's strong voice. He turned to her sitting at the small table, sipping hot tea. The pallet his uncle had slept on was gone, packed away somewhere out of sight.
"Your uncle went out, he'll be back," she let her sapphire gaze set on him. Zuko did not understand how his uncle had left without him knowing; he'd been staring at the door all night. Setting her tea down on the table she stood, took a hold of the pallet and gave a great tug, flipping the prince onto his face, "Now get up, I have business to conduct."
Zuko's anger began to get the best of him. As she pulled the mat and blanket together, a sizzle began under his skin and before he realized what he was doing his arm shot forward, leading a stream of flames to engulf the girl. She did not scream. The flame fizzled out, catching only to the rugs and cushions. The heat wave gave rise to her thick curls, where they danced around her face. She was untouched.
"Is it out of your system now?" she asked. Zuko watched as little pools of water seeped from the ground to douse the embers on the rugs, and some even pulled away from the ground to plop on the singed cushions. This surprised the prince. She pushed past him to pull the hatches up and open to let the loops of smoke out.
"You need to move," she turned back to the boy with cropped hair, "You worry about me giving you away when you can do the honors yourself. Either make yourself useful and help clean up, or get out."
He got out. Quickly. His hands balled at his sides as he set out down the dirt street. He soon pulled his straw hat on, shadowing his face from the onlookers. No matter who he was, his scar did not hide. Zuko walked down the rows of houses and shops watching the families mill around. A pair of children, brother and sister, ran across his path tagging each other before running off again. He huffed and continued on.
Zuko found his uncle Iroh sitting in a tavern sipping tea. The old man spotted his nephew and waved for him to sit. The floor was nothing but dirt, and the rooms was like a cave. Zuko could not stand being shut in.
"You slept like a baby. Didn't even budge when I left," Iroh chuckled.
"Yeah, well you didn't have to leave me there."
"You were tired; there was not much I could do."
Iroh sipped his tea and Zuko sat back in his chair. The atmosphere was lightened for a moment as the door opened and in stepped an Earth Kingdom soldier. The man sniffed in the smell of dirt. Behind him were three other soldiers, flanking him as he walked in and sauntered straight to the small round table the banished firebenders had claimed. They were all dressed in their standard green uniforms, all around the same height, and all olive skinned. The first man slammed a hand down on the table, trying to frighten them.
"Can I help you?" asked Iroh, still sipping his tea.
The man hunched over, a grim and angry look upon his brow, "You're the two staying with Suri?"
Iroh smiled up at him, "The young lady who owns the shop down the road? Yes, she has been quite helpful."
The man growled, "It's best if you get what you need and head on your way. Stay away from her."
He turned, his wingmen followed behind, and marched out of the tavern. All eyes were on the two newcomers. Iroh sat his teacup on the table, watching the door. Zuko huffed and faced his uncle, but instead his gaze fell on the several people staring at them from around the room. He pulled his hat lower, crossed his arms, and slumped lower in his chair.
"That was interesting." Iroh stated.
"Don't blame him; the guy's in love with her," a haggard man with a graying beard slipped into the third seat, pushing his fingers into a teepee, "I'm Romji."
"My name is Mushi, and this is my nephew, Lee. Who was that?"
Romji laughed and pushed his peppered hair from his face, "That, my friend, is General Khala Somei; one of our greatest benders. And he's right, you should be on your way. Suri doesn't have much contact to the outside world; it's an odd thing that she took you in in the first place. Why is that?"
"She seems to be a very kind person. I'm sure she was only wanting to help an old man."
"Maybe," Romji narrowed his eyes at the old general, "She's one of those mystics, maybe she saw something in you."
This piqued the interest of the Fire Prince, "A mystic?"
"Yeah, she's a great healer, talks to the dead and all this other mojo stuff. She helps out the troops when she can, she's psychic too. In fact, you might want her to read your palms if she's in this good of a mood," laughed Romji.
"What do you mean she 'talks to the dead'?" asked Zuko.
Romji grinned and leaned in, cupping his mouth as if to keep a secret, "She holds séances at midnight with all these weird chants and candles. It's pretty cool."
Romji lead Mushi and Lee around town. As they went a story began to unfold; one of ancient and epic measures. The story of the Avatar and who took care of the world while he or she was gone.
"You see, the Avatar being alive is what's keeping these people alive; without him they would all die out."
A form creased in Zuko's brow, "You're saying this Suri girl is a Spirit Warrior?"
"Yes." They took a turn on to a back street which led to a temple. The surroundings were flat grassland, spotted with a few low growing green trees. The temple itself was made of sandstone and carved with intricate scenes of battles and praise. The temple had long been forgotten and abandoned, as had the ring around the center pedestal. It was here that the two elements of the current Spirit Warrior would come together to take them to the Spirit World, should they die before the Avatar returned.
Zuko's gold eyes scoured the ceiling carvings. There were eight busts lining the tops of the walls, depicting the last Warriors of the region. The Warriors were anomalies of the world, as each was capable of bending two elements, though one would be stronger than the other. This is how they would assist the world and the Avatar. Zuko parted from the two old men and found himself staring at the same face he had only recently become familiar with. The stone face held the same eyes, nose, and smirk. He turned to Romji, who was explaining the technique of earthbending used to create such delicate stonework.
"What happens when they all die out?"
Romji stumbled over his words, scratching his head, "Well, I don't know. When one dies, another is born, but not until the Avatar's time begins to run out. But who knows when that is?" Iroh watched his nephew as Romji spoke, "All I know is that seeing a being like a Spirit Warrior pass from this world to the next is haunting."