The lord of the manor house preferred to review his correspondence in a reclined position, leaning back in his favorite chair while facing the window that looked down upon the city: his fiefdom. He was a minor noble, not accorded a title any higher than "Lord"; he had never served in any general's army or been a general himself, so he had no great military successes in his personal history. Indeed, his family were ennobled because they were great merchants and dealers. They arbitrated disputes and meted out penalties for contract infractions. They were trusted. They were the Bei Fong family.

He was the head of the Bei Fong family, of Gaoling. His personal name was Mori, he was a tall and lean man of around forty-five years; he had black hair that was long and hung loose; his face was clean-shaven apart from a mustache. His eyes were dark brown and saw every detail of his domain. He had three daughters, the youngest an Earthbender, and he worried constantly about all three. All three were of marriageable age, and none yet betrothed, and though he had received offers, he was uncertain. He thought he would accept an offer from the Earthbending master at the local academy, to marry his own eldest to one of that man's younger sons, one who did not bend and who was of the same age as his eldest. It was a good offer, and the Earthbending master was a good man, so he thought he would probably make the arrangement.

Mori had no idea what to do about his middle daughter though, and his youngest was an even greater issue, since she absolutely refused to give up her talent despite his misgivings. Indeed, she seemed to want to make herself infamous. Most of the time, he had no idea what was going on in her head, and he sometimes wondered if it was filled with rocks.

This morning, a fine one in early summer, he was reviewing some messages of personal importance when he came upon a message tube tied up with red ribbon, an old custom, one that he rarely saw observed. He did not know who would send him such a thing, and quickly undid both the ribbon and the seal. A scroll slid from the tube. He unrolled it.

To Mori of House Bei Fong in Gaoling, greetings:

My old friend. I write this to you from the Jade Dragon, in the city. If it is agreeable, I would have us meet forthwith, to speak of our old, personal agreement.

In the reign of the sixtieth Earth King, and for the good of the Earth Kingdom.

Shen of White Mountain.

His old training partner, if this was legitimate. Training in unarmed combat and the mechanics of internal chi usage and control, under the watchful tyranny of an old Firebending master. It had been an odd match, as his training partner was not a bender either, and the old man had at first been amused that a pair of non-benders thought they had anything they could learn from him. But it had worked, eventually; both disciples and master found that there was learning to be had.

Truthfully he had never had much passion for the arts he learned under the old master. He was a competent fighter, but his old training partner had been a phenomenon, and had made a name for himself that bordered on legend.

Was it worth it now, that he had acceded to the leadership of a noble clan, to attach his family to a self-made legend? He was unsure. But … maybe at least meeting the man, if it was his old training partner, would grant him some ideas. His mind made up, he arranged with a servant to make passage later that day to the Jade Dragon. He would go alone, and get this man's measure.

Early that evening, in a better mood than he had been in a long time, he called his daughters together in the family room to tell them the good news.

"My daughters, I have met an old friend of mine, and his son, just today, for the first time in years. They shall be joining us for dinner and then stay as guests for some time after."

His two elder daughters, seventeen year-old Kin and fifteen year-old Mei, both seemed a bit receptive to the idea of company, but he could tell immediately that his youngest, fourteen year-old Jun, was unhappy. Her green eyes seemed to darken.

"Also, I have decided to accept an offer from Earthbending master Hochou of the academy. Kin, you and I will meet him within the week to write a betrothal contract."

His eldest daughter bowed dutifully; it seemed she had been expecting this.

"If either of you, Mei or Jun, would be willing to marry my friend's son, I believe it would be good for this house's future. I hold my old friend in the highest esteem."

His youngest daughter's eyes only grew darker at this. "I want no part of this," she said, before stomping out for the backyard, presumably to practice.

He shook his head, and then looked at his middle daughter. "Does that leave it to me?" she asked. He found he had no answer. She curtsied and then left the room.

He returned to his seat. A few minutes later he noticed his eldest was still in the room. "Daughter, did you need something?"

She nodded. "Father, are you certain of this man's character, and of his son's? You did say so, but you also said you had not met them in years ... I simply worry."

He thought this over for some time before replying. "My old friend is steadier than a great many mountains. And though I only just met his son, they have traveled together for the boy's whole life. He cannot help but take after his father. I feel strongly sure of that."

His eldest daughter curtsied before leaving the room.

Within the hour, the guests had arrived and been shown in.


Mei decided she liked what she saw. Not her father's old friend of course; he was much too old for her, and had clearly been married some time in the past, even if he was probably widowed now. But the son looked fairly attractive. Father and son were dressed in tan and brown … very, very dark brown, she noticed. Straw hats. The father, her father's old friend, was egg-bald, but the son's black hair fell over his forehead.

He wasn't tall, only her own height, and since his father was not much taller, it was clear the boy would not grow much more. His father had said he was fifteen, her own age. He was unexpectedly pale though, oddly so for someone who probably spent the vast bulk of his life outdoors.

Kazan, his name was. Fire mountain, she was certain, without even seeing it written. Volcano.

Every name had a purpose and every purpose had a name. She had learned that early and never forgotten it.

Jun was in the back-yard; she had rejected any part of the whole matter, despite their father's entreaty. Kin was showing what Mei knew to be "polite disinterest." So that left her, and this boy. Who was not looking at her, or anyone, preferring to look at the floor.

"Hello," she offered.

His father nudged him in the ribs. He looked up, straight at her.

Pale, golden eyes. Twin burning suns.

Well, she thought, that explained the name.