"The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history."
― George Orwell
The Fire Lord stood at his shores, ready to welcome a Water Tribe ship to his land. Zuko watched impassively as the boat landed and docked, ready to unload cargo and people. As various members of the Guard readied themselves to defend him reflexively, Zuko nodded- once to the harbormaster and another to Sokka, who nodded back.
Had anyone been paying close attention, they might have noticed the worry hidden in Sokka's eyes, and the suppressed wariness of a young soldier who suspects something is wrong but doesn't know quite what it is.
"You asked me to come." Sokka looked at Zuko, wishing for once that he had his sister's Glare of Doom. But for all his amusement and obliviousness, Sokka couldn't have missed- no one, he thought wryly-could have missed the changes to the young Fire Lord.
He was paler, for one, and thinner. Mai said she rarely saw him, and when she did, he was often too tired to do anything other than sleep.
The first part to being a warrior was watching- and Sokka was good at it. He had noticed how drained Zuko looked- but also how haunted.
Either the demons of war had caught up to him, or something else had happened. Seeing as Zuko had asked- specifically- for him, he suspected the latter. If he'd wanted some mushy-girly stuff he'd talk to either Uncle, or Katara, or Aang. If one wanted action- or plans- they went to Sokka.
"Yes, I did." Zuko finally looked up from his reports to smile at him. But it was a small smile, and wavered at the edges. Sokka's eyes narrowed. "There are a couple things I found- and I'd like your input on them if you'd be willing."
Sokka leaned back against the upholstered chair. There were some really, really great perks to having the Fire Lord as your buddy. "I'm betting, due to the secrecy of your messages, these things are- well- secret?"
Another terse smile. "You'd be right."
"When do we start?"
Zuko led Sokka down a small cavern, the steps growing steeper and steeper as they went. Heat from the earth beaded on both their foreheads, dripping down against their shirts. New Boomerang- crafted lovingly by his father for his birthday- was slipped into its sheath when he couldn't hold the heated metal any more.
"This used to be an underground entrance into the Fire Lady's quarters." Zuko looked around slowly, lost in thought. "It's said that only the most powerful benders could get through, and the Fire Lord was one of them. But then my father closed it off, after my mother- well. Apparently, even Azula wasn't allowed in."
Sokka winced. For all that Zuko had defeated his sister, he still loved her. There were still times when Zuko reminded him of the loyalty-torn refugee he'd been in Ba Sing Se.
He glanced back at him, pale gold eyes serious and grave. All pretense had been dropped- though pride still hid traces of terror in a prematurely lined face. "I was exploring this area because I wasn't sure if there was anything dangerous to non-benders. I found this, instead."
"This" was a metal door that had an old clasp, a lock that Sokka had only seen in museums in Ba Sing Se. "Those are the locks, right? The ones that-"
"Yeah."
Flat, empty, dry. Someone was not just worried, they were terrified. And if Zuko, who had fought Katara on the full moon was scared, Sokka really, really wanted to be able to hold a weapon.
The door swung open when Zuko tapped it once, a flare of heat manipulating cylinders with careful precision. Sokka hung back, unsure of just what was inside something so- so hidden.
In the Water Tribe, we didn't have anything like this. Everything's always new, and if something bad happens to someone, everyone knows. Here, it's different. And Zuko knows that. So why did he call me here?
When Zuko motioned him impatiently, Sokka reluctantly stepped inside. Suddenly, the oppressive heat was gone, replaced by- replaced by cool dampness. "Where are we?"
"In a cave system under the castle." Catching the alarm on his face, Zuko twitched a smile. "Don't worry. We're so far under, even the 'greatest earthbender in the world' won't be able to find us." The smile faded, like the sun passing behind clouds. "It was built that way."
The question might have felt inevitable, but Sokka had always felt like that was his position in Team Avatar anyway. "Built by who?"
Zuko shook his head. "Whom." And before Sokka could roll his eyes, he continued. "And that's why we're here. The guy to build this- he died a long time ago, Sokka. Not just a hundred years ago. That's- You can talk to people, figure out what was going on at that time. No. This- this was a really, really long time ago."
"How long ago?" Sokka frowned. Zuko had gotten better, and usually spent some effort in helping people get information from him. But when one's sister and father were out to kill you, and even more when one was hunting the Avatar, one needed information. And if someone didn't have it, it usually meant someone else did. Which all boiled down to the fact that, when Zuko was completely distracted by something, trying to pry knowledge out of him was about as useful as a toothpick against a spirit.
Then, all thoughts of Zuko and worry and everything else crowding his head flew out like Aang on a glider, because he was in a library.
A small one, to be sure, but he'd always liked to read- there was a reason for going to Wan Shi Tong's library apart from just helping Aang- and libraries inevitably had useful information, meaning he didn't have to go waving a toothpick at Zuko. So- "You didn't say there was stuff to read."
Zuko's look could have frozen ice. "Wait until you see exactly what you're reading."
Which… wasn't good. That tone of voice- was scary.
Sokka followed him warily, reaching the main table. On it, there were papers, old and crinkled, but still legible. Smoothing one out, he glanced at the heading before yelping in shock. "This- this can't be right." When Zuko raised an eyebrow, he went on. "This says- 100,000 BG. It's-"
"It is correct." His face was shadowed with a sort of exhausted fear. "That's why I wanted you here."
Sokka was frozen in sheer, sheer shock. "I know you said old, but old is, like, a thousand years old! Not-" His hand gestured futilely at the parchment. "Not a hundred thousand!"
"I know. But, believe it or not, this isn't the most shocking thing about this. I found- well, you'll have to read it for yourself." Zuko handed him a couple scrolls, neatly folded and rolled up. "I took the liberty of arranging them in order."
Sokka nodded carefully, and retreated to a quiet corner of the room. Taking the top one out, he sank onto the seat and began to read.
I, Deming, King of the Forsaken Lands of New Earth, hereby state that all writings on this page are the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…
I, Deming, King of the Forsaken Lands of New Earth, hereby state that all writings on this page are the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
My people have many stories. We are a young race, they say, but we are also old beyond comprehension. My father tells me stories of his father, who told him stories of his father, and so on and so forth. He tells me of a time when my people lived not on land but on ships, great metal ships that danced through the sky faster than any person could see.
And even before that, he says, we lived on another planet, another Earth. But time and greed ruined that planet, changing green paradise into filthy overcrowded hell. My father says our ancestors left, bitter and cynical, creating a machine that took them to another home, one where they could live as they wished.
It has been many years since this happened- hundreds of years. But not a full turning of the millennia, not yet, and the records are sparse on our beginning in this new world.
When my ancestors first wished to come here, they believed it to be an empty paradise, waiting for their population to arrive and assist them. There were already people, however, here. My ancestors called them 'spirits' because they could not think of a better word for creatures with powers we had spent thousands of years searching for but had not yet managed to harness.
My ancestors, now, were caught between two impossible situations. They could not return home, because they were not sure what that 'home' was like. And this planet was another people's home. But they had no choice. They were tired of breathing recycled air and tasteless food, and so they landed.
They built small homes at first, then great cities. But this infuriated the spirits, who raged and killed them down until our hero, Wan, struck a deal with them.
He spoke to the Council of Great Spirits, and told them that they got their power from the worshipping of the humans- a miracle they had only then realized. When humans prayed, either out of fear or devotion, the spirits grew more powerful. If they didn't believe, they couldn't touch them.
Wan told the Council that his people would give them their allegiance, and in return, the spirits would be separated from the real world. When the Council asked him how he would control the humans' prayers- ensuring not one spirit received more than others- because the spirits themselves were jealous of power- Wan replied that he would have five children, one to each of the Great Spirits. When they reached adulthood, he said, he would have them take a half of his people and worship one of the Great Spirits.
The spirits agreed.
And so, when his oldest son reached adulthood, Wan divided his people in half, and told his son to 'go out and worship Izanami, goddess of earth and plenty.' And the First Earth King went, and he called his people around him one day and told them, 'we are the people of Izanami. We kneel at her feet, and as she is the goddess of duty, strength, and stubbornness, so we will be.' Izanami, upon hearing this, felt a great surge of power. In response, she gifted him and his with earthbending.
When Wan's first daughter reached adulthood, Wan again divided his people in half, and told her to 'go out and worship Tui and La, Spirits of the Moon and Ocean.' And the first Water Chief went, and called her people around her and told them, 'we are the people of the water. We dance to their tides, and as they are the Spirits of family, change, and balance, so we will be.' Upon hearing this, Tui and La felt a great surge of power. In response, they gifted her and hers with waterbending.
Wan's second daughter reached adulthood, and Wan divided his people once more. 'Go out and worship Lei-Kung, god of storms and wind' he told his daughter. And the first Air Nomad Elder went, and called her people around her and told them, 'we are the people of Lei Kung. We play to his will, and as he is the god of spirituality, wandering, and freedom, so we will be.' And when Lei-Kung heard this, he smiled and gifted her and hers with airbending.
The second son reached adulthood, and Wan divided his people one more time. 'Go out, my son,' Wan said, 'and worship Agni, god of fire and passion.' And the first Fire Lord went, and called his people around him, and told them, 'we are the people of Agni. We fight for his glory, and as he is the god of power, passion, and loyalty, so we will be.' And when Agni heard this, he gifted he and his with firebending.
And Wan had one last child- a small girl, who grew up in the tattered remnants of a once-great tribe. The best and brightest had already left, leaving the old, ailing, and bitter to remain in Wan's camp. Wan taught her everything he knew, however, and when he lay on his deathbed his last words were to her. 'Go out and worship Koh, Spirit of the Dead and Dying' he whispered to her. And the First Face-Leader went, and called her people around her, and told them, 'we are the people of Koh, and while we might not be the best in all the land we will have his favor.' But Koh, when he heard this, frowned and did not offer them anything.
Now, this might have been the end of the story.
We might, even today, have five countries and be separated so, if not for the actions of my contemporary Face-Leader, Miànduìmiàn tōuqiè zhě.
Before any of this, however, it must be clarified that each of the Great Spirits binds us to them at the moment of our birth. As soon as we slip into the air, one touches us and gifts us with bending, a gift for our ancestors' worship. But when Miànduìmiàn tōuqiè zhě was born, he did not breathe for the first few minutes of his life. He was born dead, and it was only with the help of a healing spirit that his mother breathed life into him.
This changed him. He was not born with Koh's blessing, little though that may be, and thus he was different from the rest of us.
He was empty and barren, of both power and binding. Where his mother should have burned him to ashes, however, he was cherished. And he fostered followers carefully, like a flame too small to stand on its own. He grew them slowly, and looked out at us all, and was disgusted with our actions.
'You are meek!' he cried in our courts and halls, 'You are weak! These spirits are not of us. They do not belong here!'
He did not listen to our efforts to tell him their power and majesty. And the spirits did not notice him because he did not have a binding, and they only saw those who did.
He was given the Crown of the Face-Leader when his mother died, and then grew a vicious army bent on taking a path into the Spirit World. None know of the truth of what happened the day he succeeded, but the moon grew red and the sun black and wind stopped curling for a month, a month of absolute fear for us all.
And then he came back for a week.
A week he spent traveling the world, calling Koh's people together once more. Then he asked for a secret meeting with me.
'I have killed my people.' He told me.
'Why?' I cried, shock tearing terror through me. 'How!?'
'They will all die, cousin.' His eyes were graver than ever before, but the light of fervent fanaticism hadn't yet perished.
'To give you and yours freedom. It is an appropriate analogy, is it not?' He then handed me a sheaf of papers and told me not to open it until his people were dead.
I shook my head, wordless, but he did not take heed of that and only stepped out. By the time I got outside he was gone, a mere speck in the sky among thousands of others.
I did not see him again. And he kept his word. Each and everyone of his people died the next day, peaceful and calm in their sleep.
And the very next, a boy able to bend fire and water, earth and air was born to my pregnant wife. We shall call him Wan, and his title shall be Avatar Wan.
So ends the tale of the thirteenth Fire Lord, Huo.
Sokka was choking on both bile and sheer, sheer shock at the end of the parchment. The world, it seemed, had devolved into shades of grey, and was whitening alarmingly at the edges. Zuko, seeing this, leapt up, guiding him gently to a small balcony he hadn't noticed.
The heat hit him like a blast of air from Appa, but the shock wasn't enough to stop him from heaving all the food he'd eaten in the palace over the side.
The only thing keeping him from really, truly losing it right then and there was Zuko's hand on his shoulder, reminding him of both the situation they were in, and the fact that he had vomited over the ground like a complete loser. His muscles had barely stiffened before he spoke, quiet and wry.
"When I first read this, I didn't sleep for three weeks."
The question was almost on the tip of his tongue, but Sokka bit them back and thought. Fear, for sure. And there's always the fact that first, he can't tell anyone about this, and second, sleep is when the spirits are strongest. Damn. Zuko was totally, completely, one hundred percent right to call me here. One person can't take care of all this.
"What in the name of all spi-"
Zuko made a violent movement with his hands. "Don't speak the name!"
Exhaling sharply, Sokka nodded. "What are we going to tell Aang?"
"Nothing." At his frown, Zuko elaborated. "Nothing yet, I mean. Aang isn't ready for this. He's a kid, Sokka. He- Dammit, he can't even firebend properly. We can't tell Toph because this information is too scary to say aloud. And-"
"And we can't tell my sister because she'll go berserk." Sokka nodded gloomily. The problem was theirs, now. But still- "There are a couple things I don't understand."
"Of course there are." Even Zuko's sarcasm sounded completely exhausted.
"Well- why doesn't everyone know?"
"Know what?" He frowned. "About the Face-Stealer's people?"
Sokka tilted his head.
"Well, you've gotta remember, this was a hundred thousand years ago. Not a lot of things survive at that age. But- and remember, Koh was pissed off- some stuff do. And there are no records dating that far back. No one knew why, but I pulled some of the newest stuff together, and, well, we don't really have hard evidence."
"But?" There was always, always a but, Sokka knew.
"But, there is a lot of stuff I can infer. And my thoughts? The people destroyed each other. Koh was furious, and his power might have been really, really lessened, but it wasn't broken, not like Miànduìmiàn tōuqiè zhě thought, or hoped. Because people were always dying, and Koh got power from that."
Sokka tried to imagine that, Koh whispering in each ruler's ear about how great they were, and how brilliant, and how much better than everyone else, and constantly pushing for war, and then looked at the small cache and shivered. Then he tried to think about a time when the spirits dictated everything, and only a prince without loyalty was able to beat them back.
Sokka shivered some more.
"I didn't just take it from here. I went to Ba Sing Se, because according to the maps, the oldest settlement in the world should have been about there. And there are caverns beneath caverns beneath caverns, but if you go below them all," and here Zuko paused, eyes crinkled in worry, "if you go below them all, you'll find a city. It's buried underneath miles of stone, and I'd never have found it without the maps. But its there- and it's completely leveled.
Sokka inhaled, feeling like there was a twig stuck in his chest. Zuko went on. "Like someone wanted it destroyed. Gone." He spread his hands on the table, careful as a hunter who has is prey in sight. "And the most interesting thing? It just pops up. There aren't any tents or anything, just brick houses and mortar and everything like that. Sokka, those were the first houses, and they came from people who knew how to build them."
He nodded helplessly. Zuko sighed, burying his face in his hands. "We need a plan." He looked up, met Sokka's eyes. "A good one."
Sokka could almost hear the unspoken words at the end of the sentence.
Because if we don't, we're all going to die. Painfully. And I'm counting on you. So no pressure. You're just saving the thrice-damned world over again.
This- actually came from an idea from Embers by Vathara. Love the fic, love the depth it goes into, and love even more the little threads still hanging around. Can't remember exactly which chapter, but in one, Professor Tingzhe Wen talks about how there's a city under Ba Sing Se, built from almost nothing. The idea came to me while I was reading, and I thought, if Koh is a Great Spirit, as stated there, why not? So the Avatar is the last remnant of a population that sacrificed itself to push the spirits out of the way.
I just know that there are going to be questions about the morality of this act. Yes, it was a genocide, because Miànduìmiàn tōuqiè zhě didn't ask his people's permission before killing them off. There was no chance for them to save themselves. And yes, Zuko and Sokka know this. But, like a lot of people know about the Spanish Inquisition, etc. but right now, today, there are more pressing matters at hand. Thousands of people died a hundred thousand years ago? That's horrible- I'm not denying it. But how does it affect me today?
The killers were actually the spirits themselves, because they wanted to gain power. If Koh's power's gone, then there's more for themselves.
Read and review!
- Dialux