A/N: Let me repeat: this is not the final chapter. Close, but not quite yet.
Chapter Ten: Final Fragments
Two weeks later, Mai stood outside the healing house, waiting for the cripples' wagon bound for the ruins of the Fire Nation capital. Most of the captives were being returned there; the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes seemed to prefer keeping the captives together, for the time being.
The day was brisk, so far south, but the sun warmed Mai through her layers of wool. That morning, the nurses had dressed her in a clean and awful brown robe, handed her a small satchel, and pushed her out of their care. Tzian had tied a kerchief over Mai's horribly short hair before she left, meeting her eyes for one odd moment; there was warmth there, but pain and bitterness as well. Mai had the sense that the woman loathed the idea of her, this Fire Nation girl, even as she pitied and cared for her actual charge.
But that was behind her. The Capital—the Old Capital, she must remember—waited, and possibly family as well. Mai was by turns desperate to learn their fate and brimming with unconcern; she couldn't't reconcile it, and the dichotomy sawed on her conscience whenever her mind was still. The beast-child (and her mother's scolding voice rang through her mind, reminding Mai that the little pest's name was Tom-Tom) weighed her thoughts especially. What would the Comet have done to a child?
The cripples' wagon clattered up at last from the crude healing house stable; Mai watched the pair of ostrich-horses warily, and made to climb clumsily into the wooden cart. It was high, though, and she was one-handed and still weak; she struggled for a few moments, and said nothing when the driver approached and lifted her effortlessly over the side.
Once settled, Mai opened the satchel the nurses had given her. Sorting through even those meager contents was difficult without her right hand. She was forced to balance the satchel on her knees, and nearly dropped the lot when the wagon lurched into movement. Mai pressed herself to ignore the amusement of her fellow invalids, to pretend her cheeks did not burn with shame; eventually, she successfully took stock of the satchel's contents. It held a small loaf of brown bread, several white bandages, a few coins of what must have been Earth Kingdom currency, and a little vial of dark liquid. "For the pain," read the note glued to the bottle. "Take sparingly."
The cart lurched, banging Mai's right hand, still bandaged and resting in a loose sling, into the knee of the tall man next to her. She hissed as the stumps of her fingers began to wail in a now-familiar chorus; Mai grasped the small vial tightly in her good hand, and wondered how long she could make it last.
The old woman at the cramped little desk sifted through another mountain of paper, her wizened eyes narrowed. "I'm sure there was a document somewhere," she muttered, and looked at Mai again. "The Governor of Omashu, you said? What are the names, I've forgotten…"
"Lord Hong, Lady Haku and their son Tom-Tom," Mai repeated dully. The woman had a memory like rice-sifter. "They had only lived in Omashu for about six months when the Comet came—"
"Ah!" cried the clerk. "Here we are… yes, I knew I'd seen this somewhere." She straitened her small, stooped form, coughed, and read, "'Hong, former Fire Nation governor of Omashu, was tried by the Council of Justice shortly after the royal executions. He testified to his crimes…' yes, yes, girl his family is mentioned somewhere… oh yes. 'He stated that he had witnessed the deaths of his wife and son, but did not know the whereabouts of his daughter." The old eyes brightened. 'And here you are, girl! And now your father seems to have gone missing in your stead. Dear me, what are the chances?" The woman paused, fiddling with a scrap of parchment. She seemed to expect some horrible spectacle out of Mai any moment; she started as inspiration struck her and and cried, "I must prepare a cross-reference, girl, if you'll excuse me…" The shriveled old thing tottered off, calling to an underling for some indispensable tool of bureaucracy.
Mai remained in her chair. Her heart was beating terribly fast, but her breathing was slow. She blinked, and found that her eyes were dry; painfully dry. She listened to the noise growing behind her, the swell of her nervous countrymen. Mai knew her audience was over, knew she ought to leave, grieve decently and wait for some new fate to find her… but for a moment, she did not want to move.
Mai closed her eyes, and looked inside.
There was pain there. It was hard to recognize at first; it leaked slowly from among the fresh scars on her heart, and drew even from the constant burn in her right hand. But it came through, this new, particular pain, tasting bitter and making her itch. It dripped through her like an irritating rain, settling in her bones and making her ache.
It was terrible, she knew. But hurt had changed her; pain was a facet of her being now, burned into her soul. It could no longer break her. Mai sat quietly and remembered the years of strict discipline, words spoken in anger, a rainy afternoon spent reading tales of the spirits together. An endless fitting for her first school uniform, how her mother had slapped her for fidgeting again; how she had glowed with pride when she sent her daughter off wearing the rich, beautiful thing.
She remembered seeing her brother for the first time, how incredible and galling it was that he had finally been born; wanting to love him, and wanting to spite her parents for being so happy. The first time she had called him the beast-child, and the hurt in her mother's eyes. Being sent to her room on his first birthday for giving him a throwing-star as a gift.
Seeing him in the Avatar's arms and walking away, because Azula had not needed to speak the order for Mai to understand.
Pulling away from hugs and kisses, the last time, and then she was free. Or just a slave to another mistress, she realized too late.
Mai sat and remembered until a guard and a healer came to escort her out. Dry eyed, she smiled ad left quickly before they could question her. Both men were busy, and they did not follow.
The ruined crater-city was strange to Mai, and yet jarringly familiar. She picked her way around charred stone and torn-up cobbles, guided as much by landmark as instinct, and a sense of where the sun should sit at this time of day.
She did not go to the boarding house where she slept, one of the many constructed to house the former captives. She passed through the little ugly markets that had sprung up in popular streets. She did not visit the healer as she had promised to, although the stumps of her missing fingers seemed to swell with misery under their graying bandages.
It took Mai nearly an hour to find the place, once so close to the center of the city. She ignored the grating fears that it would be destroyed, or taken by the new government, or else unrecognizable.
But at last, Mai stood with her back to wreckage of the Palace gates. She faced her parents house; black and charred, but miraculously whole. Her mother had been so proud to have a home so near the royal family, and Mai herself had appreciated the proximity to the prince. Her family had spent five years in that beautiful house, with parties that excited Mai in spite of herself, and long hours of hide-and-seek with Azula and Ty-Lee. (They had been to old to play, really, but none of the girls had wanted to stop.) Zuko had come to see her in this house; her mother had even insisted upon giving birth to Tom-Tom here. She had loved this house, and Mai had loved it too.
For those five years, before Omashu, before the war had touched them, before the Comet… her family had been very nearly happy.
Mai eased up the broken steps and placed her left hand on one of the large, blackened doors. It creaked open at her touch (the hinges were nearly gone), revealing a slice of dusty blackness. Mai breathed in the must, and readied herself for another goodbye.
The sound of stumbling echoed from within, punctuated by a harsh hacking, and the smack of limbs on stone.
"Please," rasped a horrible, thin voice. "Leave me be. I've paid for my sins a thousand times over. I beg you—" the voice broke, shrank to a hissing sob. "Oh, Agni... let me die in peace!"
A/N: Hmm, cliffhanger. Just so you know, I did NOT plan that.