Years before, a young man ran into a building in the docks district of Republic City. A broad-shouldered Water Tribe youth, with dark skin and hair, tied back into a ponytail. His eyes were bright with intelligence and excitement. He opened the door forcefully, revealing a drab, unassuming living room. It was clearly not designed with comfort in mind. It was not meant to attract attention. The room's only occupant was another Water Tribe boy – younger than the one who just entered, but their family resemblance was very clear.
"Noatak? What are you doing here? I thought you didn't-"
"I was on our father's trial, Tarrlok," the older boy interrupted. "I saw it all. His bending is gone."
The only answer was stunned silence, at first. Then, Tarrlok spoke, disdainfully.
"Do you expect me to believe that? How is it gone? Is it like that tall tale about Avatar Aang taking Firelord Ozai's bending away?"
Noatak laughed.
"Yes, exactly! They finally proved father is a bloodbender! I bet they didn't expect him to bloodbend in broad daylight, though. Avatar Aang had to enter his Avatar State and strip him of his bending. He's just a non-bender now, like me. I told you the Avatar could really take bending away."
"Go jump in a lake, Noatak," his brother responded, with petulant irritation. "Your jealousy is getting worse. Can you go back to pretending you don't know us?"
"Oh, I will." Noatak laughed again. "You'll see me again, brother. But it won't happen for a long time."
He turned around and left the building, leaving his brother in silence. Tarrlok sat in the empty room, waiting for his parents to return with news. He had not expected to meet his brother again, especially not like this.
Soon enough, someone did return – but it was only his mother. A sharp-featured woman with a dark Water Tribe complexion, and black hair with gray streaks, braided in loops around her ears.
"Tarrlok. Pack up. We're leaving," she said curtly.
"What-" he began, but his mother cut him off.
"Your father had his bending taken away and given the life sentence. It won't be long before they come for us as well. He did his best to conceal his family, but his organization is falling to pieces as we speak."
The young waterbender blinked.
"So it's true! Noatak was just here, saying father had had his bending taken! But I thought he was lying."
"Noatak? Yes, he was there during the trial, but wouldn't talk to me. He left afterwards. Well, no matter. He made it clear he wants nothing to do with us. Besides, he's not a bloodbender, like us. We need to leave, quickly." The normally aloof and composed woman was clearly distraught and rushed.
"But how-"
"It doesn't matter. Our life here is over."
Many years later, two figures stood in that very same room. One of them was a tall, broad-shouldered man whose face was obscured by a hood and a mask. The other one, lean and wiry, wore a dark green uniform. It was obvious no one had been there in a long time. A thick layer of dust covered every surface. Cobwebs filled the air.
"I had someone ask around like you requested," the Lieutenant said. "This building belongs to someone. But it seems the real owner is hidden behind a maze of paperwork and dummy companies."
"I know who it is," Amon responded. "Councilman Tarrlok really has no wish for this particular piece of his past to resurface."
"Why would the most powerful member of the Council care about this place? He comes from the Southern Water Tribe."
"Oh, he does. But he grew up here, in Republic City."
The Lieutenant was visibly surprised.
"He claims he was born and raised there."
"So he does. I know many things about him he would not wish to see revealed. You see, Lieutenant… this is where he lived as a boy."
"Someday you'll have to tell us how you know those things," the Lieutenant said, narrowing his eyes. "I know what you've done and what you can still do. But all those secrets..."
"Knowledge leaks, Lieutenant. Every person that knows something increases the chance of someone else finding it out twofold. So does every telling of a secret. When I reveal how I learned what I know, and how I learned what I can do, I need to be certain I have everyone who needs to know this in one place at the same time. You'll be there. So will Hiroshi Sato, I hope. I planted a seed in him, and it's growing. Years of fighting a guerrilla war he couldn't win, and bashing his head against the brick wall of bender superiority left behind a very fertile ground. In due time, he'll agree to lend his resources to me. With his organization behind me, I will stir the non-benders of the city into a revolution. I hope the Avatar isn't kept away from here for too long."
"Wouldn't it be better to start our revolution while the Avatar is away?" the Lieutenant asked. "I can't say I look forward to facing the master of all four elements."
"Our struggle with the Avatar will not be a physical one," Amon answered. "Defeating her in combat and taking her bending would not be enough, even if we could do it. We need to show the world that the Avatar is nothing more than a glorified thug propping up a society that puts her on a pedestal. Avatar Aang proved that he was unwilling to actually enforce balance and justice. After receiving the power to take away people's bending, he used it twice. Twice. Against Firelord Ozai and Yakone. Is that what it takes for the Avatar to step in and take drastic measures? How much of a body count does a bender need to rack up? To have such a unique power and be unwilling to use it… Avatar Aang made himself, and all his future incarnations, obsolete by his own choice."
Councilman Tarrlok sat in his office, preparing himself for an interview with a journalist from the largest Republic City newspaper, when his door opened and an assistant shuffled in.
"Councilman. I apologize, but you told me to inform you if someone was interested in that… house in the dockside district. Someone was."
Tarrlok's face darkened. An old fear he had managed to bury just had to resurface now, with non-benders betting more and more restless. At least it was unlikely to be connected. Unless…
"Do you know who it was?"
"No, Councilman. It seems they were… discreet."
Of course. Discreet enough to remain anonymous, but not discreet enough to leave no tracks at all. Someone was clearly trying to unnerve him. He shook his head. Two could play this game.
"Very well. You may go."
Once the assistant shuffled out, Tarrlok regained his composure. It would take more than someone digging around the ashes of his childhood to throw him off-balance. When the journalist entered, he was wearing his customary dazzling smile and radiated the self-confidence of someone who simply wishes to serve the United Republic as best he can. The journalist was a fairly young woman, short and portly.
"Miss Nari! I'm glad to see you, as always," he told the reporter.
"Always a pleasure, Councilman," the journalist answered as she took her seat and produced a notebook. "It seems you just can't catch a break recently. With the social tensions flaring in the city, your opinion is sought more than any other."
"I can't see why," Tarrlok responded. "I am simply a public servant, like my fellow Council Members, or the other city officials."
"And yet, you're at the forefront of the changes that have the people of the city in a stir," Nari responded. "Holding fast onto the ban on chi-blocking and restricting weapons technology. Many say that you're intentionally discriminating against non-benders."
"Nothing could be further from the truth," Tarrlok responded firmly. "The cries of supposed discrimination only convince me further that my course of action is justified. I'm defending the order on which our society is built."
"But there are many who say that non-benders deserve the means to protect themselves from benders."
"Is it about protection, or means of attack?" Tarrlok asked rhetorically. "Chi-blocking has no purpose other than countering bending. It renders benders unable to use the power they've had since birth. It is invasive and insidious. It needs to be restricted on the same basis as bloodbending."
"It does provide non-benders with a means of standing up to benders, however," Nari pointed out. "It can even out the playing field."
"I refuse to buy into the arms race rhetoric proposed by those… Equalist vigilantes, and their sympathizers in the populace," the Councilman responded dismissively. "There is no conflict between benders and non-benders in our society. The art of bending is as ancient as humanity, and it has shaped civilization since its dawn. Those who are gifted with bending have a responsibility to uphold the tradition of their element and use it for the common purpose. Reducing the issue to that of brute force is a disrespect to it all."
"Don't those who use bending to extort and abuse their fellow citizens disrespect it even more?"
"They certainly pervert the noble traditions of bending," Tarrlok said, smoothly. "And it's the duty of the government and law enforcement to bring them to justice. Chief Beifong's relentless efforts towards that end cannot go unnoticed or unappreciated. But it cannot be left in the hands of vigilantes. Where will they turn next, should they manage to defeat the triads?"
"Do you assume they will turn against the benders who aren't criminals, next?" Nari asked.
"Why wouldn't they?" Tarrlok shot back with another rhetorical question. "People who have constructed a narrative about a… fundamental oppression of non-benders by benders will not stop at the targets who actually break the law and harm others."
"So you do not think there's an inherent bending privilege?" The journalist pressed.
"Of course not. It's not anyone's fault that they have talents others do not. And one of the wealthiest people in the city is a non-bender, is he not? Hiroshi Sato. Who, despite that, is so very vocal about non-bender rights being suppressed." Tarrlok smiled patronizingly.
"His manufacture of shock weapons was interrupted by the new ban, however," the reporter pointed out.
"As I said back then, Miss Nari, those weapons are too dangerous. Anyone could pick up a shock-glove and harm innocent people. And before you say it, it does not compare to bending. The bending styles are ancient arts passed down since the dawn of humanity. Those weapons are crude, destructive tools." This time, the contempt in his voice was palpable.
"They might help alleviate the concerns that the police force is bender-dominated, however. They would allow non-bending officers to more easily apprehend criminals, including benders."
"And here we go back to the supposed conflict between benders and non-benders. Is it really worth it to put everything in such… us against them terms? The benders' powers make them more suited for police work. Non-benders should be glad they have them as protection, rather than try to arm themselves in destructive technology."
"You keep saying there is no conflict between benders and non-benders. But the Republic City Council is made up of benders. There hasn't been a non-bending member of the Council ever since Councilman Tenzin took the Air Nomad seat. There are concerns about lack of representation."
"The Council represents the four nations that contributed to the creation of the United Republic, not benders or non-benders. Does our bending help us govern? I do not think so. We were chosen for our merits. Councilman Tenzin is Avatar Aang's son, and the only living adult airbender. What other choice is there to represent the Air Nomads?"
"The Air Nomads consist of four airbenders and their non-bending acolytes," the reporter retorted. "There are those who say the working class of the city deserves more representation than a remnant of a dead culture, living in luxury on their own island and attended by servants."
"Such a short-sighted sentiment," Tarrlok responded with a sigh. "Our world relies on the balance between the four elements. The United Republic is an oasis of peace and freedom, built from the wounds of the great war. Built by Avatar Aang, an Air Nomad by birth. This alone means that what remains of his nation deserved an equal part in the country he created."
The interview went on for a while more, concerning other current issues of the city. Tarrlok found himself relaxed by it. This is what he was meant to do. Spinning words, playing power games – here, he was finally in control. After years of weaving through the maze of Republic City politics, he finally achieved a position where he was dealing the cards. It was all he could ever want. Someone digging into the house of his childhood in Republic City… it threatened to dig up the times when he had none of that. Of a time when his bending was all he had to prove his worth. And he wouldn't allow that. Nor would he allow some upstart non-benders to question the order of the world he had invested himself in.