Slowly the old door opened, creaking in the thick blanket of silence that smothered the occupants of the building. Footsteps thumped over the hollow oak wood like a slow heartbeat, calm and unperturbed. A slender figure stepped inside, with long auburn hair and silken emerald robes washing over her body; the uniform of a warrior, a mixture of green with darker lining, a mossy tunic underneath and dress robes swirling around her long legs. Her hair was long and sleek, the same colour as chocolate, flaring around her shoulders like a cobra. But missing was her headpiece, the one which revealed her rank.
Sitting down, captive and wrought with tremors, a heavily pregnant woman sat surrounded by five men. Short hair brushed against her shoulders, ruffled from wind and struggle and the many times she had combed her fingers through the tresses. Dressed in civilian clothing, the former Captain was vulnerable and endangered. Once upon a time she would have died rather than plead for rescue, but with the unborn child within her threatened, she folded her arms over the bump and shivered in her words.
The warrior without rank traversed the room cautiously, stepping closer to the hostage but keeping one eagle-sharp eye on the captors. One wrong move, one mistake, and the blade pressed to Suki's flesh would slit her throat. And that was not a viable outcome.
"You have something we want," snarled the man with the short sword, at the uniform rather than the person wearing it. Personally, the warrior had no quarrel with these men until they had taken the Captain. But the warriors had arrested someone the day before, and these people seemed to be his subordinates. The same insignia was etched upon their left breast, which meant the terms were plain to see.
Suki, for his release.
Level and devoid of emotion, the warrior studied the pregnant woman intently. "You could have simply asked politely," she replied. "There is no need for this senseless violence." No obvious wounds. The soon-to-be mother and her child were in great distress, but aside from a cut on her cheek, unharmed. Relatively, speaking. "Calm, Captain," she assured the hostage. "Your blood will not be shed here tonight."
Through the haze of blinding fear, Suki registered her words and nodded. Perhaps the spoken promise did a little to alleviate some of the pressure but it was a small fraction if anything. The warrior knew that if this went on for much longer, it might trigger her to go into labour. Under these circumstances, that would be dangerous.
"You will let our brother go," the leader demanded. "Or this woman and her child die."
With the terms confirmed, she could act. Of course, the man they were asking for had caused great trouble and broken several laws, they could not allow him to leave. In the immediate situation it would save two, yes, but if the plans she had heard about were true, it would condemn many more.
That said, she couldn't just allow these two to die. She would not turn her back on those who could not defend themselves.
"We can free him. I would need to pass on the order to the others outside this building," she responded evenly. "However, I ask you stop pointing that rusted old bread knife at my comrade. It's terribly rude." Making a gesture to signal casual suggestion, she said, "how about you point it at me instead, and let her go?"
Wrong thing to say, apparently. The 'rusted bread knife' was pulled even tighter against Suki's neck. A bead of blood bubbled and rolled down a nick in her neck. "We need her."
"Yes, it seems you do. But you need a live hostage. If you put her under much more strain, she won't be very lively for much longer."
A grizzly middle-aged man sneered at her in disbelief. "Neither will we. We know all about you lot. Police of the Island. Hand-to-hand combat experts. Able to conceal weapons on the human body and nobody would notice a damn thing. Hell, I've heard the stories. You could take an armed man down with a toothpick."
"Well for one thing I wouldn't need a toothpick. But I can assure you, I'm unarmed." The warrior lifted her hands above her head and shrugged. "Well, except for these two, but these aren't really hidden. On the other hand, you are. Tie me up if it helps you feel any better. But you don't need her."
It seemed not all of the hostage takers were keen on holding Suki either. But they weren't convinced with her compliance. They talked amongst themselves for a minute, hissing and snapping with unease.
"She has a family waiting outside for her. A husband. I'm not looking for a fight. I simply want her out of the way so she doesn't get hurt. You can have me instead."
"Prove you're unarmed!" they ordered.
The warrior readily complied.
Moving steadily, she hooked the loop of her obi with one finger and undid the knot, lifting the first layer of her armour over her head and leaving her with just a loose, sleeved tunic. She discarded her gloves and wrist guards next, peeling back the sleeves to reveal her arms. As she did so, a badge 'accidentally' tumbled from her person and clicked against the floor.
Captain Commander.
Several pairs of eyes gleamed with interest. "Sit down."
Oh, they were getting confident now. The Captain Commander sat down and held her arms out. Someone moved to restrain her but she pulled away from them, not bothered by the swords that were suddenly pointed her way.
"Ah-ah, we had a deal." Nodding towards Suki, she reminded them calmly, "I'm not stupid. I don't want us both being held here. Help her to the door and I'll do whatever you want within reason."
Suki was helped up and half-dragged towards the door. The trade in progress, the Captain Commander held up her wrists and remained stonily silent as they were tightly bound. She couldn't help but observe the knot they had tied. "Haven't any of you ever been to Earth Scouts? This knot is atrocious."
"We're Firebenders."
"Oh, yes, that's right. Rookie mistake. Fireflies, then. But seriously, none of you ever went to Fireflies? I could untie this with a blindfold on. Or I could just rip it off."
"You even think about doing that and you're dead."
A look of amusement adorned her face and she smiled. "Well I hate to break it to you, but I just thought about it. I won't do it, of course, but a warrior must always be honest." A dark, devious smile curved the edges of her red lips. A shiver ran through the men gathered; not even holding weapons against her could console them against what she said next. The rope fell straight off of her wrists and she stood up with a snarl.
"I'm already dead."
When Suki emerged from the house, the warriors swarmed in, crashing through windows and through doors, burning with rage. The men lay confused in the middle of the room as they were surrounded, captured and marched outside, unsuccessful in their mission and arrested en masse. They were all covered in cuts and bruises, as though they had been in a particularly tough fight.
"She … she vanished!" was all they said upon detainment. "She was there, an- and then she was gone! The Captain Commander just disappeared!"
"There is no Captain Commander," Ty Lee growled. She stood in for Suki ever since she had become pregnant.
"But there was," Suki mumbled into her husband's arms as he held her. "I saw her."
"You can't have," Sokka said. "You're the highest ranking warrior in this village. You know that. And besides, nobody went inside the house while you guys were in there. We were still thinking of a plan!"
"But there was!" Suki protested, frustrated and upset, pushing him away. "I know it sounds crazy but she was real!"
But Sokka didn't believe her. Insisting she got some rest, he promised they would look for the mystery warrior later. And when Suki pointed her out in front of everyone—with the rest of the men agreeing, who still insisted the very same thing—a moment of silence passed over the village.
Her picture was featured in a sketchbook in the archives held by the village leader, the List of Warriors. Everyone who had ever worn the uniform and taken up rank had been inducted into it, redrawn every few years with their achievements—even those from other villages. It was updated regularly.
Suki found her last after looking at every picture inside. A young woman, aged twenty-seven, with long hair like the hood of a hissing viper. Her eyes were green and naturally narrow, and she was taller than men in the village. Whatever artist had sketched the portrait of her life had caught her in a moment of conflict: she smiled, her eyes gleaming, but somehow she seemed lonely.
"This is her," she whispered. "This is the one who saved me."
Her fingers trailed down the page.
The name underneath it read,
Avatar Kyoshi.