Chapter 7: Fleeting Life
After spending a night sleeping under the stars at the edge of the forest, the little band of survivors passed the next day walking north toward civilization. The trip was uneventful; Zidane spent most of the morning regaling the other two with stories of his various (mis)adventures as a member of Tantalus. Vivi was a captive audience, laughing and gasping at all the appropriate moments. The princess was more demure in her reviews, but Zidane still caught her smirking several times. Their enthusiasm waned as they marched ever onwards, burning midday yielding to muggy afternoon. The sun had already touched the western horizon by the time a town came into view, the trio now sunburnt and windswept. At the crest of their journey's final hill, Zidane called for a halt.
"We need a plan," Zidane announced as Garnet and Vivi collapsed gracelessly into the soft grass. "Princess, people are looking for you. This town's pretty out-of-the-way, so the Fire Nation presence should be minimal. But even if the locals don't know your face, they'll know the names of Fire Nation royalty. You need a new identity."
Garnet squinted up at him, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with one hand. She nodded gravely. Her other hand reached to her belt and drew the small blade Zidane had given her for self-defense. "This weapon is a dagger, is it not?" she inquired. He nodded. "Very well. I shall be called 'Dagger' from now on. What do you think?"
Zidane smiled broadly. "Sounds great…Dagger. Now let's work on your speech. Try to sound more casual, like me."
Dagger nodded, deferring to her new instructor. "I shall try."
"No, not like that," Zidane countered. "Say, uh…" he turned toward Vivi, who stared bemusedly back at him. "Just say, 'Alrighty!'"
"A-alrighty!" Dagger parroted. She wore an excited grin, like a child getting to stay up late for the first time.
"You're getting the hang of it!" Zidane encouraged. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all. He offered his hands and pulled both of them to their feet once more. "Well, let's go!"
The streets were oddly quiet as they walked into town. The fishing boats they passed were rusted or rotted from disuse, and stalls that promised local foods or other supplies sat abandoned. Even the overhead sign exclaiming "Welcome to Dali" looked in need of a new paint job. After passing several similar blocks, Zidane managed to flag down a haggard-looking man carrying a crate up from the water's edge.
"Hey there!" he called, jogging toward the man, whose attempt at a smile came out as a sort of sigh. "We've been walking all day, can we buy some f-ugh!"
As Dagger and Vivi drew close enough to look into the crate, they too recoiled in disgust. The creatures contained within were long dead, and they were completely covered in brownish sludge. They smelled like pickled feet that had been left in the sun for three days.
"If you buy three fish, I'll throw in a clam for free," the man offered apologetically, as if suggesting payment for his product was as offensive as the odor. In fairness, Zidane thought, that wasn't far off. He avoided gagging long enough to utter, "We'll pass, thanks." The man sighed knowingly. Unbidden, he began unleashing his entire story onto them.
"That's the way it's been since the shipyard moved in." He gestured to a massive building on the water's edge, which belched black, chunky smoke from four enormous stacks at its corners. "Two years ago. Almost nobody farms anymore, and even fewer fish – not that it'd do'em much good, mind you, with the water and soil all gunked up. Shopkeeper's went out of business too, since the Fire Nation brings in all their own supplies. Nope, everybody works up at the yard, making ships for the Fire Nation. Now our little village is struggling to get by." His story ended as abruptly as it began, and the man wandered off with a blank look in his eyes.
"This is terrible," Dagger cried, her voice heavy with pity. "I had no idea…"
Zidane shuffled past her, pointing vaguely toward the center of town. "There's an inn that way…at least, there was the last time I was here. We can rest for the night and see about getting passage to Omashu in the morning."
Dagger grabbed his arm as he passed. "Can't we do something?" she questioned earnestly. "Tell the shipyard to stop polluting the river, or…"
Zidane shook his head. "Normally I'd be all about a little sabotage. But we have to stay hidden if we're gonna get you out of the Fire Nation's reach." He pulled past her and walked in the direction he had pointed, but stopped a second time to say over his shoulder, "I'm sorry."
As Vivi trotted after him, Dagger rested a hand over her heart. "If only my uncle would stop this war," she whispered.
The inn was still there, dusty but open for business, and Zidane secured them a room with a few coins from his purse. After ensuring the two were well-settled (and repeatedly informing Dagger that he didn't have the money to get her a private room), he disappeared back into town. When he returned an hour later under cover of darkness, he was carrying a bundle of clothing on his back and holding a pail of water.
"These should help us blend in," he said, dumping the entire assortment onto an empty bed. "Vivi, would you mind warming the water a bit so we can clean ourselves up?"
Dagger eyed the clothes suspiciously. "Zidane, the people of this town have enough to worry about without having their laundry stolen off the line," she said reproachfully.
"Don't worry, I only steal from the bad guys," he replied casually. After a moment's consideration she tilted her head in obeisance and began sifting through the garments; Zidane caught Vivi's eye and winked.
Once they'd each had a few private moments to wash and re-dress, they looked exceptionally ordinary. Dagger had eventually decided on a faded yellow blouse that was a size too large, for which she compensated by stuffing the extra fabric beneath a green waistcoat. She also sported tan riding breeches that reached nearly to her ankles. Vivi had picked out a forest green doublet that easily covered his entire body, and rolled up the sleeves and hem so that he could still function; he couldn't be convinced to remove his hat. Zidane kept his pale blue pants (to accommodate his tail), but swapped out his white shirt for a fresh one and vigorously beat the dust out of his vest. As they all turned in for the night, Zidane asked the question that had been bothering him since their meeting.
"Dagger, tell me one thing before we go to sleep: why did you wanna leave the castle?"
After a brief silence, the princess responded in a quiet voice, "If the theater ship hadn't crashed…"
"We'd be in Omashu by now," Zidane finished the thought for her. "So, you were gonna leave the Fire Nation?"
Even through the darkness, he could see Dagger sitting up in her bed. "Zidane, please listen. There is a reason I left, though I cannot tell you why. But, please…"
"I understand," Zidane said quietly. "I'll get you to Omashu somehow."
Apparently satisfied, Dagger lay back down on her bed. Zidane closed his eyes, and let Vivi's snores lead him into a sound sleep.
He awoke after what felt like only a few minutes to see sunlight beaming through the open window. He blinked a few times, stretched, and literally leapt out of the tiny bed. To his surprise, he was alone in the room. On a table by the window lay a chipped plate, on which sat a lumpy bit of bread and a few scattered crumbs. He gave his weapons a quick once-over, grabbed the food, and walked down the staircase. Dust-muffled creaks followed his footsteps.
He found Dagger and Vivi standing just outside the building, the princess brushing flecks of grain from her new attire. "Zidane!" she called to him with a wave. Noticing the bread in his hand, she followed up "It's barely passable, as far as food goes, but I suppose it shall suffice for now. Um, that is to say…" she screwed up her face in concentration, choosing her next words carefully, "It's okay, I guess."
Zidane smiled at the attempt. "You're doing great," he encouraged her. She positively beamed in response.
"Um, Zidane?" Vivi questioned, tugging at the older boy's shirt. "How are we getting to Omashu? All the boats look worn out, and there are soldiers everywhere."
"Leave it to me!" Zidane declared, pounding his chest emphatically. "I've got a foolproof plan for getting us on one of those airships!" He pulled both of them into a tight huddle; Dagger squirmed, but didn't break away. "Here's what we're gonna do…"
That same morning, less than a mile away, an old-model Fire Nation scouting ship was being pulled into the shipyard. Its hull rattled with every swell of the waves, and it listed lazily to one side now that the fires in its engine room were extinguished. The newly-assembled Knights of Mars stood in rough rows on its deck, stolid and sullen. As soon as the ship ground to a screeching halt, the prow opened and two figures marched out.
"Uncle, I want the repairs made as quickly as possible," Zuko ordered, stomping quickly away from his dilapidated ship. "I don't want to stay too long and risk losing his trail."
"The Avatar-" Iroh began, but Zuko cut him off with a slashing motion and a severe look. "Don't mention his name on these docks! Once word gets out that he's alive, every firebender will be out looking for him and I don't want anyone getting in the way!"
"Getting in the way of what, Prince Zuko?"
Zuko turned sharply toward the confident voice. A tall man with pointed sideburns was striding toward them, arms clasped regally behind his back. He wore the uniform of military command, complete with breastplate and gauntlets, and carried himself with the ease of someone who is used to being obeyed.
"Captain Zhao." Zuko said flatly.
"It's Commander now," Zhao corrected him. "And General Iroh, great hero of our nation." He bowed low.
"Retired general," Iroh countered diplomatically, ignoring the honorific.
"The Fire Lord's brother and son are welcome guests any time. What brings you to my harbor?"
"Our ship is being repaired." Iroh explained, gesturing to the woebegone vessel behind him.
"You call that a ship?" Zhao muttered, loud enough for them to hear. Zuko scowled, but Iroh merely raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's quite a bit of damage."
"Yes, you wouldn't believe what happened." Zuko started in, before realizing he hadn't actually thought of a convincing story. "Uncle! Tell Commander Zhao what happened."
Iroh's eyes widened in surprise. "Uh, yes! I will do that!" He put a finger to his mouth in concentration, eyes darting about for some clue of how to begin. "It was incredible! Uh…what, did we crash or something?"
Zuko closed his eyes in frustration. His uncle could talk about ancient pottery for two hours straight, but couldn't keep up a lie for two sentences? He re-opened his eyes, but found he couldn't look the Commander in the face. "Uh, yes! Right into…an Earth Kingdom ship!"
"Really?" Zhao raised one eyebrow at the pair, who both seemed to be sweating despite the cool evening breeze. "You must regale me with all the thrilling details. Join me for a drink?"
"Sorry, but we have to go." Zuko replied brusquely. He made to leave, but his uncle blocked him with one outstretched hand.
"Prince Zuko, show Commander Zhao your respect. We would be honored to join you." Zuko ground his teeth, but Iroh seemed not to notice. "Do you have any ginseng tea? It is my favorite."
"Shoulders back, Vivi," Zidane whispered from the corner of his mouth. "Head high, and…march!"
Vivi started toward the tethered balloon, which floated gently near a bluff overlooking the ocean. He had switched back into his grimy Fire Nation robes, and kept a ball of fire alight in his right hand. In his left he gripped a length of twine they'd "borrowed" from a laundry line and wrapped around Zidane's and Dagger's wrists in a poor imitation of bonded miscreants. Vivi shuffled nervously as they ventured toward the gangplank leading to the airship's interior, a bored-looking guard on either side. He stumbled as they drew near, causing the fire to waver and die.
"U-um-" he stammered, tremulously looking at the soldiers who barely seemed to register his existence. "I've g-got some p-p-prisoner's here, uh…ne'er-do-wells. No good in the f-factory, gotta send them away." The guards didn't speak, didn't move. "I need to, uh, accompany them on board," Vivi continued, his knees shaking beneath him, "Commander's orders?"
He didn't mean it as a question, but the insecurity was obvious in his voice. The guards still didn't react.
"Oi!" Zidane called, waving his fettered arms in front of their faces. "Anyone home? Seriously dangerous criminals here!"
"For goodness' sake!" Dagger chided under her breath. "Just go, before we draw any more attention!" She marched up the walkway, head held resolutely high, and the guards made no move to stop her. Zidane and Vivi traipsed along behind, still linked together at the arm.
Once inside, Zidane darted into an alcove and easily broke the makeshift cuffs. "That was lucky," he mused, pulling out his hidden weapons and placing them back into familiar positions on his hips.
"It was…unsettling," Dagger offered, rubbing her delicate wrists where the rope had bound her. "Their eyes weren't even focused. It was as if they weren't present in their own minds."
Zidane considered the phenomenon another minute, then shrugged. "We're onboard, that's all I care about. Now we wait."
Fifteen minutes later, the vessel shuddered and groaned. The floor under their feet began shaking ever so slightly, and Zidane felt his ears pop. They were moving at last. "Which way to the cockpit, Vivi?"
He let the bender lead them through the vessel's innards, alternately crawling over crossbeams in narrow corridors and then balancing on high, exposed platforms. The few crew members they saw possessed the same single-mindedness as the guards outside – no one looked twice at the unusual trio. After a few minutes of walking and climbing, they popped open a circular hatch and clambered into the ship's control room, a small enclosure that offered only minor windowless protection from the open air. A deck extended for at least 20 feet beyond them, where several officers milled about unconcernedly.
"You're dismissed," Zidane ordered the pilot, and the man stepped aside and disappeared down the hatch. Vivi stared after him, his look of morbid curiosity hidden by his headwear. Zidane seemed to ponder this development for a moment, then shrugged yet again and grabbed the wheel firmly in both hands. It responded unwaveringly to his touch.
"Didn't think that would actually work," he confided in them. "Well, on to Omashu!"
Prince Zuko and General Iroh sat uncomfortably at a table in the Fire Nation headquarters, which was nothing more than the sitting room of a local house they had commandeered for use as a base. A pot of tea sat cooling in its kettle, surrounded by three chipped cups on mismatched saucers. A world map was strung from the corners of the longest wall, and metal pins held up miniscule painted tiles that marked the locations of large armies and naval groups. Zhao was gesturing to a large collection of tiles near his harbor.
"Construction will be completed within the month, and two brand new divisions are standing by to board. We'll hit the Northern Water Tribe on the solstice, when our power is at its height. The Earth Kingdom will lose its last ally." He traced a finger across the map, landing on Ba Sing Se. "Meanwhile, our engineers are designing a countermeasure to their walls. By year's end the capital will be under our rule, and the Fire Lord will finally claim victory in this war."
He turned around to face his guests, triumphant. Zuko was scowling out the window, arms crossed resolutely in front of him. "If my father thinks the rest of the world will follow him, then he is a fool."
Zhao's expression darkened. "Two years at sea have done little to temper your tongue."
"Three," Zuko countered quietly. "It's been three years since I was banished, almost to the day."
Seeing his quarry back down, Zhao dropped the matter. "That reminds me: General Iroh, when was the last time you heard from your daughter?"
"We correspond regularly," Iroh responded lightheartedly, after taking another sip of tea. "I have not received a messenger hawk in over a month, but that is not usual. Someone like me, who travels so far and stays put so little, can often be difficult to find."
Zhao did not return the general's smile. "I am sorry to be the one to break this news to you, but…Princess Garnet was kidnapped from Ember Island two days ago."
Iroh breathed in sharply, and his eyes widened. He set down his teacup carefully and, with obvious effort, replied, "How did it happen? Was she injured?"
"She was taken by a group of scoundrels posing as a theater troupe. When last spotted she was unharmed, possibly owing to the low level of resistance she appeared to be offering. The Fire Lord has offered a substantial reward for anyone who can return the princess and bring the criminals to justice. In fact, I've heard he has brought in several…experts in the matter."
Zuko could see the wheels spinning in his uncle's head as he processed this information. It had been a long time since anything had cracked that carefree façade he developed while accompanying Zuko during his banishment and subsequent search for the Avatar. But Iroh had already buried his only son, who had died while under his command, and lost the throne that should have been his birthright. Now he faced the prospect that his last child could be tortured or killed. After another minute's oppressive silence, Iroh spoke again.
"I have every confidence in my brother's handling of the matter." He smiled weakly, a grin that didn't reach his cheeks or his eyes, which remained somber. "For now, her continued health must be enough to sustain me. But I would appreciate some time to meditate. Would you excuse us?"
Zhao motioned toward the door with a willing hand, and they both rose to their feet. They had barely made it outside when an orderly barged in, shoving past them in his haste. As they trod slowly up the street to their arranged quarters, Iroh saw Zhao dart out of the house and march forcefully in the direction of the docks. He turned to his nephew, who was once again lost in his own thoughts. "You should choose your words more carefully, Prince Zuko. Have you forgotten what happened the last time you dueled a master?"
"I will never forget," Zuko bit back. "All the more reason to leave here quickly. I don't want to let him slip away."
"Of course," Iroh sighed. "But since we're stuck here for now, might as well try the local cuisine, eh?" He dug an elbow into Zuko's side encouragingly. Zuko rolled his eyes and quickened his pace toward their provided lodgings, leaving Iroh alone with his hunger.
The need to maintain some semblance of decorum was the only thing that kept Zhao from running flat-out toward the remaining moored airships. He paced through the town, long strides making up the distance while his clenched, steaming fists warned passersby to keep well out of his route. His jaw twisted back and forth with suppressed rage. An airship stolen, right under his nose, and a potential princess sighting as well! And his new soldiers had been completely useless. He thought about the last shipment he'd received, remembered the emptiness behind their eyes. For all their supplier's promises, Zhao remained unconvinced they'd ever make effective tools of war. But the Fire Nation was running out of manpower after a century of war…
He shook the lingering doubts from his head. He'd made Commander by taking advantage of others' weakness or incompetence, and today would simply be the latest example. The Fire Lord was sure to reward him when he personally returned the Princess, then crushed the Northern Water Tribe with his newborn army. But even these accolades would pale next to the conquest he had planned…when the spirits themselves would quail before him…
He reached the hanging ships, and in one slicing motion burned through the ropes tethering a single-occupancy craft to the cliff. He leapt in and fired a blast of fire behind him, launching the balloon into quick pursuit.
As Zidane flew their pirated ship, Dagger watched Vivi walk up to each officer in turn and attempt to engage them in conversation. He yelled above the wind, waved his arms, even attempted to kick one hard in the shins (instead tripping and falling on his face again). After this latest failure he sat up and adjusted his hat, but made no effort to move otherwise. Dagger saw his shoulders rise and fall rapidly, and tears fell out from the blackness beneath his floppy hat. She rushed out to him and laid a hand on his shuddering shoulder.
"It's like…they don't even…see me at all," he said between sobs. "I tried…again and again, but…they won't even look at me."
She peered inquisitively at the unresponsive officers. They wore the single-layered armor of enlisted men, but also sported knee-length crimson cloaks that were anchored at both shoulders. Unlike front-line soldiers, they carried no weapons. Their hands were bare, exposing purpling bruises or livid scars across the knuckles. Just like the guards on the ground, their faces were as unmoving as masks.
Dagger edged closer to the deck's railing for a better look, but blooming gouts of fire below caught her attention first. A solitary balloon and basket, its ascent aided by powerful firebending, was racing to intercept them. A man, richly appointed in Fire Nation battle armor, was in the cockpit. His eyes were fixed on her.
"Zidane!" she called out, and the thief came running. He dropped into a battle stance, knives out, as soon as he saw the interloper. He kept his eyes on this new threat as he shouted orders. "Get inside and pilot the ship as best you can. Vivi, I'll need your help." Dagger raced back to the cockpit as the stranger drew level with them.
"Hand over the Princess!" he barked, extinguishing the trailing flames so the two vessels remained side-by-side. Zidane said nothing, but carefully judged the distance between them. His best chance would be to strike when his opponent attempted to board. "That's an order from your commander!" Zhao bellowed, and Zidane watched in horror as the four officers on deck all turned automatically toward the cockpit. He dove in front of them, brandishing both weapons, and saw eight hands rise in unison. Four fireballs burned into existence out of thin air, but were batted away by a whipping line of fire. Out of the corner of his eye, Zidane saw Vivi stepping up level with him in defiance of their efforts.
The airship pitched violently to the side as a crack resounded from the port stern, and all six combatants struggled to keep their footing. Zhao was streaming fire directly onto the ship, warping planks and melting bolts. His face was screwed up in manic concentration and effort, as one hand birthed the attacking flame while the other sent out a counterbalancing fire into the sky above. "Vivi, put out that fire, I'll handle-" Zidane started, but stopped as the four Fire Nation soldiers blocked his view. To his astonishment, they raced toward the injured hull and countered Zhao's attack with their own bending. A flaming sphere formed around the target, first breaking the line of Zhao's assault and then starving what remained of oxygen until it burnt itself out. They made no counterattack, but stood staring blankly at the Commander across the divide between ships.
For a moment, Zhao was silent with shock. Then the insults began, growing louder with each passing word. "Fools…useless pawns…mindless puppets…worthless DRONES!" He pushed both arms forward this time, sending twin concussive blasts into the railing and shattering it. The four officers were blown backward, two so hard they hit the railing on the opposite side. A third went airborne, watching helplessly as the vessel passed underneath him before beginning his long fall to the ground below. The last collapsed onto the deck, smoldering. He did not move.
The reactive force of the blast pushed Zhao's balloon away into a whirling spin, but he quickly righted himself and drew level with the airship a second time. Zidane was looking around, hoping for inspiration. He was just about to try a desperate leap onto the other vessel when Vivi stepped in front of him. He was walking slowly, purposefully, entirely unlike the usual bobbing gait Zidane had seen him affect in the past. Zidane heard Dagger cry out to him from the cockpit, but he seemed completely unaware of their presence. Instead he called out to their opponent, and his high, breaking voice managed to carry over the wind and the smoke.
"Why?" Vivi shouted through the din, hugging his arms to his chest. "They were your…how could you…Why? WHY?!" He drew back his clenched fists, and Zidane was amazed to see not fire, but white light emerging from them. The shadow beneath his hat was lightening as well, transforming from blackest void to an equally indistinguishable radiance. Within seconds this remarkable incandescence had spread all the way to the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet; even his clothing glowed with otherworldly light. He stood resolute on the deck, a second sun in miniature, and raised his shaking hands.
Zhao sent a trio of fireballs directly at him, but he projected a wall of flame with both hands that absorbed them. Vivi responded with an arcing line of white-hot fire that Zhao just managed to deflect. He countered with another concussive blast, this time aimed at the cockpit, but Vivi swallowed it with a fiery hand and detonated it in midair, sending a ring of flames back at Zhao who had to duck to keep from being immolated. Vivi followed up with a stream of fire from his other hand, which greedily ate through Zhao's carrier until he could recover long enough to snuff it. He finished with his own trio of fireballs, the last of which escaped Zhao's countermeasures and snapped two of the wires connecting the oversized balloon to the basket. It fell sideways, and Zhao just managed to find a handhold before he toppled to the ground far below. Unmanned and off-balance, the balloon began losing altitude. He watched in helpless fury as the stolen airship raced away with his princess on board.
The light surrounding Vivi slowly faded, and he collapsed unceremoniously to the deck. Dagger raced to him and knelt down, gingerly cradling his head in her lap. She could hear tired sobs coming from beneath his pointed hat. Zidane shied over and opened his mouth to ask about the light, but she shook her head quickly. He shrugged and returned to the cockpit. Dagger held the young mage gently and began singing a lullaby, one her mother had sung to her when she was a baby. He reached up and laid one of his small hands on hers, keeping her close as they sailed ever closer to the safety of the Earth Kingdom.
Sitting at the corner of two major thoroughfares in the center of town, the Shambling Skunk-Bear was well situated to take advantage of the recent influx of Fire Nation carpenters, metalworkers, and soldiers. The bar was packed with patrons playing games of chance or carousing to the live music, and someone had started an arm-wrestling tournament that was drawing a sizable crowd. Amid the clank of glasses and the occasional slurred toast, a hooded man swept in through a side door and immediately sat down at a cramped corner table. This placed him opposite a second person, similarly disguised, who had already set out a Pai Sho board. The new arrival reached into a bag of tiles, set one in the very center of the board, and spoke without looking up.
"The canary has escaped the cage, then?"
"Yes, but her wings have been clipped."
"A man could build her new ones."
"Yes, where the lovers met. It can still come to pass."
The man nodded. Both players seemed to be considering the board carefully, but the variation they played was a dull one with little chance for either side to press the advantage. After a few mechanical moves, he spoke again.
"Our dream has been recalled."
The second figure faltered briefly, then continued with the game. "You awoke?"
"Yes. Wake the others."
"What of the canary?"
"If she can dream, she may end the drought."
"So the sun won't shine?"
He sighed. "The clouds are thick. We must have options." He extended his hand, acknowledging the end of their 'game', and received a hearty handshake in return. As he collected his tiles, his opponent whispered under the din.
"Beware a white dragon, who walks in the garden without eating the fruit."
His eyes widened upon hearing this, but their meeting had already gone dangerously long for being public. Armed with this new information, the figure edged out the side door and into the night.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, hope you enjoy! Please review!
