The Yecai Society
. helium lost .
Author's Notes: It's a crack!fic. My apologies in advance. XD I don't know what hit me to write this—probably the fact that my mom took me and my brother to Souplantation for lunch this afternoon, and as I was looking down at the cabbage in the salad, I was thinking, "Hey, wouldn't it be great if there were more secret societies in Avatar, just like the Pai-sho one, only concentrated around different things? Like… say… cabbage?"
So here you go. Another take on the Ye Olde Capture Plotte, but wilder than you could ever imagine. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Beginning; History; Plans
He had let this go on for far too long.
As he fell to his knees, cradling his fallen cabbages, a lump rose in his throat as he took in their dirtied, crumpled forms, the way they laid lifelessly on their sides, the way their leaves hung, limp, bruised, and battered… First, the shock consumed him; then came the wave of realization and, finally, the crashing, thundering tsunami of irrepressible anger.
The boy's head popped out from amidst the carnage. He waved hesitantly, then said, with a nervous laugh tinting his voice, "Two cabbages, please?"
The cabbage merchant stood, fury filling every cell of his body. He clenched his fists at his side, trembling, as the blood rushed to his face and made his tanned skin a brilliant shade of crimson. He pointed a shaking finger at the boy, then shouted, "Get away from my cabbages!"
The boy was smart enough to jump up and dash away, faster than a speeding arrow. The girl remained, trying to apologize for her friend's behavior, but the cabbage merchant took no regard of her words and pushed her away, cursing the whole time. The one he assumed to be her brother had already left long ago, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "damn vegetables"—which only served to make the cabbage merchant even more spitting mad. He hated people like that the most—people who didn't understand the beauty, the valor of fruits and vegetables, their majesty, their—
The claw of an ostrich-horse trampled over a stray head of cabbage, and the cabbage merchant was brought back to his senses. He looked up and saw the retreating figure of a teenager dressed in shabby clothes, with a large scar covering his left eye. But what enraged the cabbage merchant even more—if it was even possible—was the way that the teen spared no look behind him. He probably wasn't even aware of the fact that he'd just crushed a valuable, nutritious being—no, more than a being; more like… a saint.
Muttering curses under his breath, the cabbage merchant bent over to pick up the remaining heads that were still fine, piling them back up onto his cart. As he did so, another surly teenager, chewing a stalk of hay, walked by, kicking the cabbage heads out of his way, paying no attention to the slaving merchant.
Letting out a scream of frustration, the cabbage man grabbed the handles of his cart and jerked it up off its stand, then walked the streets of Ba Sing Sei in long, quick strides as the wheels of the cart turned, squeaking, behind him. He rounded corners and traversed through winding alleys before finally reaching his destination. He knocked impatiently at the door and crossed his arms, letting the cart drop behind him, and tapped his foot, waiting for the door to open.
When it finally did, he looked around quickly to make sure that he hadn't been followed, and said in a low voice… "It's time."
The Yecai Society had a long history behind it: It had been formed almost five hundred years ago, mainly as a relief effort to help the malnourished and bring health and happiness back into their lives. Their first big success had been when they had ridded the Water Tribes' sailors of scurvy, something from which they were prone to suffer on their big voyages. After all, fruit was hard enough to grow in those arctic climates—what with their freezing cold, lack of rainfall, and lack of harvestable ground—so it had to be imported from the Earth Kingdom. Expenses began to take their toll, and the Water Tribes' usual methods of preserving food—freezing it until it was barely recognizable as anything more than a block of ice—didn't work so well with the fruit, destroying them and sapping any remaining nutrition from them.
Taking it on a long voyage was, therefore, impossible.
It was ironic that the Water Tribes, who were, naturally, masters of water—weren't masters of the sea, seeing how all their forces were falling sick to disease. Even the Air Nomads could command a better navy than they, and they hadn't seen a body of water larger than a pond! And despite the fact that water was the opposite element of firebenders, they commanded a strong navy; although their firebending skills weakened somewhat with all the water around them (the sun still influenced their abilities more, though), they were still able to pilot long expeditions due to the abundant spices in their lands that made preserving fruits like bell peppers possible.
Both out of health concerns for her people and a secret shame shared by all waterbenders for not being able to command their own element, Princess Ankang of the Northern Water Tribe managed to fund a project to search for a remedy to this problem. Sending messengers across the world, she asked for anyone who could have a solution—both practical and affordable—to step up and tell the Northern Water Tribe about it. In return, they would give the creator of the best solution a generous reward and a place of honor at the palace.
Naturally, there was a huge scramble to be the one to come up with a solution. Most people wanted the generous reward; some wanted the place of honor; and most of the hot-blooded males saw it as a chance to get closer to the princess, who was rumored to be turning sixteen soon (and wasn't turning out too bad, either). Many in the Fire Nation quickly found out that applying their preserving technique worked marvelously, but the costs were outrageously high (exporting spice was costly enough, and exporting fruit with the spice, in addition to covering labor costs, was just out of the question).
Months passed without a good solution coming up, and Princess Ankang was beginning to lose hope as more and more of the sailors died every day.
It was then that the Yecai Society was formed. Founded by poor merchants in the Earth Kingdom, its main purpose was to strike it rich and live a good life afterward; it was intended to be a one-shot deal: gather, find a solution, divide the riches, and disband.
Little did they know that that was not to be the case.
Quickly after pooling together their brainpower—not much in book-smarts, mind, but they had practical wits, and innumerable home remedies that, surprisingly, worked—they came up with a solution, so simple that they were astounded that no one had found it earlier. All that had to be done was to prepare the fruits or vegetables in a brine of salt, vinegar, and water—or, even, for fruits that were more watery, just salt. And it wasn't costly, either: being that the Water Tribes lived close to the ocean, salt was inexpensive for them (unlike for the Air Nomads, to whom salt had to be exported; they eventually gave up on salty foods and instead settled for sweeter things, like fruit pies, as sugarcane was relatively easy to obtain from the rainforests dotting their mountains). All they had to do was bend the water out of it and use the lingering minerals; the cost was next to none.
Before anyone else could discover the same process, the Yecai Society pooled together some money to send a letter with the discovery (written in a code known only to waterbenders, provided by their one waterbender member, so that greedy interceptors couldn't understand it) by the fastest messenger hawk. It was an outrageous sum—about a week's worth of wages for each of them—but it was worth it, seeing how they got an excited reply in a couple days' worth of time, asking them to go to the North Pole immediately to show this revolutionary procedure.
Using a flying bison graciously rented by Princess Ankang (the rates charged for flying bison transport were also outrageous, but they, too, were the fastest, and relatively docile), the members of the Yecai Society reached the North Pole within a week. There, they showed the procedure to Princess Ankang, who, in addition to being impressed with the simple yet life-saving procedure, amusedly accepted the smitten waterbender's marriage proposal (she had been too stubborn to accept betrothal necklaces from the local waterbenders, but this waterbender just amused her to no end, what with his sarcasm and all). She soon gave them their reward, as well as ordering for the immediate creation of a plaque to the Yecai Society, which was soon hung in the Hall of Heroes.
Life was good for the members of the Yecai Society after that: the reward, even split between the original seven members (waterbender included), was enough for them to live comfortably for the rest of their lives, seeing how they lived fairly humble lives, being merchants and all, and seeing how they rarely spent money on extravagant but useless things.
They never intended on meeting again, but fate conspired against them.
Now that they had enough money, the members were itching with a sense of adventure, a desire to do something, maybe—selling fruits and vegetables had become a bore, and they wanted a little excitement. Following this path of thought, they gathered again (with the exception of the waterbender, who was, to say the least, busy with Princess Ankang), and decided to go to all the ends of the earth in search for new species of produce, to help more unfortunates.
Due to this, fifteen new species of produce were mass-introduced to the rest of the world, one of which was a strange berry that managed to survive arctic temperatures, which had previously been known to only one tiny clan of about ten waterbenders. Soon, their name began to spread worldwide, and their name became almost as well-known as that of the Red Spirit, a ninja-assassin that had gone around worldwide, killing corrupt leaders, before being found out as being a high-ranking Fire Nation noble and sentenced to life imprisonment (though many around the world still hailed him and his work).
After a life of adventure, the merchants soon retired, and, as expected of any human, died, leaving their children and grandchildren with the task of continuing the Yecai Society. And so, generation after generation, the Yecai Society continued to make a name for itself, combating malnourishment, feeding the hungry, and bringing the joy of fruits and vegetables to the rest of the world.
However, a hundred years ago, that all changed.
With the beginning of the war, most of the members of the Yecai Society had been conscripted into the war; most went willingly, believing that their experience trekking the world would aid them in the war.
But it was not so.
Soon, they were being killed off, one after another, with astonishing speed, leaving their children without mothers, or fathers. Disillusioned with this skewed sense of justice, the next generation of Yecai heirs turned the society around into a purpose entirely different than that originally intended: they vowed to restore justice to the world, one merchant at a time.
Thus, any merchant who was found threatened, injured, killed, or otherwise harassed by the Fire Nation—or, eventually, anyone else—was subject to punishment. At first, they were light punishments—threats and scaring the culprits off—but as the war progressed and things got worse and worse, so did the punishments, up to the point where there were killings over a discontent merchant who had let the bargaining go a little too far and had been cheated out of a couple gold pieces.
After word of this got out, the plaque to the Yecai Society was removed from the Hall of Heroes at the North Pole, and they became an underground, secret society, wiped from history texts, the weight of their so-called "justice" out-balancing the good that they had done in earlier generations.
Gradually, as this vindictive generation died or was killed in the war, and their heirs succeeded, the Yecai Society quieted down. The generation after the one hell-bent on justice was less violent, more pacifistic—they had seen what the war had done to the people, and saw how unreasonable they were becoming. They decided to keep the Society underground and dormant as long as they possibly could, to prevent further trouble; there was no need for them to destroy more lives, all over something as silly as fruits and vegetables.
But not all members thought that way. Some were still lying, waiting for the perfect moment to bring the Society back… And now, after thirty long years… the chance had finally arrived.
The cabbage merchant sat at the head of the table, hands clasped pensively before him, a cold look in his eyes.
He hadn't expected the other members to come so quickly; it appeared as if more people than he thought (though there was still a miserably small amount of people in the room) were becoming disillusioned from the war, and eager to revive the idea of "justice". When he saw that everyone had settled in their seats, he cast a gaze around the room, taking in the faces—most familiar, some not—and said in a soft, serious voice that nonetheless carried to the other end of the room, "Lettuce pray."
A moment of silence passed, disturbed only by the soft moving of lips as they recited their pledge and prayer. Then, one by one, they looked up, dark expressions on their face as they gazed at the cabbage merchant.
"Now, I want to begin by stating the reason why I called this meeting."
The others nodded.
"Today, many of my cabbages were squashed. 'Not a big deal,' you may think, before you realize that this was almost the tenth time it had happened this month—and three or more times were from the same, insolent kid—the one with the ridiculous blue arrow on his head."
"Orange you talking about the Avatar?" asked another merchant.
The cabbage merchant spat. "Avatar or not, we will have to beet him for his wrongdoings. We cannot let him run rampant, claiming credit for saving the world, while he keeps us merchants oppressed, treating us as if we were unimportant, mocking us."
"Hear, hear," chorused the other members.
"Yes, Apple?" said the cabbage merchant, nodding toward a woman who sat near the back; the members of the Yecai Society, ever since being driven underground, were now forced to call each other codenames based on whatever produce they sold.
Apple cleared her throat. "We'll need a plan. A good one, one that shallot fail."
Cabbage nodded. "I agree. We'll now open the floor to suggestions. Anyone?"
Rhubarb stood. "Perhaps we can send a shipova, disguised as a merchant ship, with dozens of soldiers or ninjas to take him out."
Apple shook her head. "No, that'll never work—the Fire Nation soldiers can't even capture him; how can we even hope to get him? Especially since we can't afford to hire those professional hit-men."
"Maybe we can get plum drug that'll send him into a deep sleep… then ambush him and cherry him away in the night?" suggested Apricot, but it was drowned out by Apple's laughter.
"And how do you expect us to get close enough to him to drug him?" she said, still laughing. "Sure, we may not look suspicious, but I'm sure one of his friends will wonder what we're doing if we get close and slip something into his drink. And most of us can't even bend; we have no way to defend ourselves against him or his companions if they decide to attack."
"Send me; olive!" said Asparagus excitedly, jumping out of his seat and waving his hand. "I can earthbend!"
"Grape," Apple said, rolling her eyes. "I saw the last time your earthbended—your aim is so terrible; you took out the person twenty feet away from your target, and you weren't even aiming for him."
Asparagus sat down, dejected, as Apricot patted him on the shoulder and sent a dirty look in Apple's direction. "Well, if you're so wise," she said bitterly, "then why don't you suggest a plan?"
Apple rolled her eyes again, sighing in a falsely laborious way. "All right, if you insist. How about this: Durian the night, when he's sleeping, we'll take—"
"How's this any different from my sleeping drug plan?" Apricot said, and Apple glared at her.
"Don't interrupt me," she hissed, smiling smugly when Apricot recoiled. "Anyway, as he's sleeping, we'll take that girl who travels with him."
"Which one?" asked Rhubarb. Cabbage raised his eyebrows at him, curious.
"What do you mean, 'which one'? There's only one."
"No, another girl joined him recently—one that can earthbend, or so I've heard, and she's pretty good at it."
Apple sighed. "The waterbender, of course. It's obvious that he wishes that they were a pear; you can tell just by the way he looks at her. Anyway, we'll take her, and we'll leave him a few clues to lead him to wherever we're holding her hostage—some place without water, definitely—and, from the clues, he'll be able to marrow down the locations to just one, and there, we'll trap him—then kale him."
"Kale him?" repeated Apricot, aghast. "I don't think we should go that far…"
Apple shook her head. "No, we'll have to. You'll notice that this Society has fallen into ruin lately—we have no funding, and despite all the members that we originally had, there are only seven of us gathered here today. We'll need to tell the Fire Nation that we have him hostage, then maybe take his staff and fig a way to send it to the Fire Nation as proof. He has a huge bounty on his head, you know, and the Fire Nation never specified whether they wanted him dead or alive. Alive, he can escape; dead, he cannot."
Cabbage nodded, a twisted smile spreading on his face. "I like that idea," he said, then added, "It'll be a warning to anyone who dares abuse my cabbages again."
Apple smirked. "I'm glad you see it my way, Cabbage."
Cabbage sat up, straightening his back, a serious expression falling on his face again. "Now, we must not leek any information from this meeting, or it can all be ruined. We'll need to decide a date for the ambush, and we'll need to plan out the details. Apple, could you take notes?"
Apple nodded. She got up and got the paper, brush, and ink from the corner of the room, then returned, dipping the brush in ink and diligently holding it poised over the paper.
"Now… for the details," Cabbage began, and Apple began to jot down notes as he spoke, pausing every now and then to contribute an idea as the others around them spoke up, as well.
As Apple spoke, Asparagus turned to Apricot and said in a low voice, so that Apple couldn't hear, "I hate that peach."
Apricot nodded. "So do I, Aspy, so do I…"
Author's Notes: I apologize for all the puns in the last segment. XD It's just that "lettuce pray" came to mind, and everything fell into place after that. Anyone who knows me somewhat well knows that I love corny jokes, especially those involving puns, so I couldn't resist. Naturally, I don't think they'll be speaking so much in puns in later chapters (seeing how I'm running out of them), so don't expect much of it in the future.
Anyway, I'd love to see some feedback for this fic (especially constructive criticism), seeing how it's something different from what I normally write (I'm not much of an action/adventure type of person; at least, not writing-wise). Also, I'm not really satisfied with the way that the last scene came out, so if you'd like to share your opinions on it, please do.
And, for the curious: yecai is 'cabbage' in Chinese (the round cabbages, not the long ones). :)
Thanks for reading!
8/15/2006