A/N: Another year, another chapter. I'm hoping to finish the story this year and start work on my next project, but we'll see how things go. Thanks as always to Sylvacoer for beta work. If you haven't already, go and read her stories on Deviant Art, they are well worth the time. Enjoy the show.
The spirits wept upon the world. It was pouring rain, and the freezing wind blew across the steppe, visiting misery upon besiegers and besieged alike. In the Fire Nation camp, tanks bogged down in the mud, komodo rhinos took out their notoriously short tempers on anything breakable, and all firebending did was spread scalding steam over the practice fields. Among the Tumen, things were not much better, their herds becoming more troublesome than komodo rhinos simply through sheer numbers, and the various chores of the camp being made ten times more difficult. But they took it in stride: anywhere the Tumen laid down to rest was their home. Miserable and muddy and desperate as it was, Jomei still saw peace here, as he rode into the camp, saw a people still alive.
Their homes were circular houses of cloth stretched over wooden beams, meant to be dismantled and moved easily. Many of them showed signs of hard use and not enough repairs: a people in flight have little time for anything but the most acceptable shelter. Animals were everywhere, tethered outside the tents, kept in earthbent pens, but most simply roamed the grasslands outside the circle of tents. Ostrich-horses were the most visible, of course, but many varieties of sheep and goats bleated their displeasure loudly. Tsangansar's cart creaked to a halt just in front of him and he had to haul back on the reins to stop his mount, which gave an annoyed squawk. Damned bird. It's a wonder these people don't walk around bow-legged all day and even more amazing they can have children at all. Ships, trains, ostrich-horses. I'm keeping an eye out for that sky bison.
He winced as he clambered down from the animal's back, his boots sinking into mud. Tsangansar gestured to the tent they'd stopped in front of, no bigger or fancier than any of the others.
"This is my tent," she said. "You may enter, but please observe the customs. Men sit on the west side and women on the east. Do not speak loudly or gesture wildly. This is a place of peace and comfort in troubled times and I will see it stay that way. Do you understand?"
"Of course," Siensao said, bowing her head.
"You're the boss," Jomei said with a shrug.
"Just get me to someone who has wine," Reki mumbled from her place in the cart.
Seeing the glare Jomei was sending his way, Kyuzo laughed nervously.
"Ah, maybe I'd better look after Reki while you guys talk."
"That would be best," Siensao said, sounding apologetic. The Tumen chieftain ducked inside the felt walls, and she, Hideki, Jomei, and the ever-present Zoukani followed. Jomei glanced after Reki, worried about letting the Fire Nation soldier look after her, but he wouldn't try anything surrounded by enemies. He might be that stupid, but not that brave.
At the center of the tent, ringed by stones and dirt, burned a small fire, the greasy smoke drifting out through a hole in the roof, the only window in the cramped confines. Jomei had to step carefully, avoiding the many possessions crammed inside to find a place on the west to sit down. Tsangansar herself took a seat in the north, directly across from the door, folding one leg under her body and tucking the other up to her chest, resting her chin on that knee. Siensao promptly imitated her, and the three men followed suit. Working underground, you got used to cramped spaces.
"If you would like something to eat," Tsangansar said in a near-whisper, "I will share what I have. But as I understand it, your chief needs are of the mind, not the body." She fixed Siensao with her gaze, wrinkled hands clasped under her chin. Beats me why she's got to whisper, Jomei thought, annoyed, the walls are thick enough that nobody can listen in as it is. I don't like having to strain to hear anything.
"It has been a long time since a member the Order sought us out. Nearly all Tumen initiates answered our call many years ago and none of our people have since entered your ranks. The White Lotus has done little to stop the destruction of the Tumen, perhaps it is because we have so little left to offer them. Our ways have been chronicled, our customs understood, our people reduced to ink and paper. What use do you have for a dying people, Siensao? Why do you seek us out now, at the end?"
"Not everyone among the Order thinks that way," Hideki spoke up. "I apologize for interrupting, but I must say that many of us do not fight because we are afraid or because we feel it is our duty not to. We are not those people."
"Indeed, there are those among us who believe the time has come for the Order to fight at last," Siensao answered the chieftain, equally quietly. "I speak for the Closed Fist. To make my words heard among the Senior Masters, I am on the Path to the Horizon, along with Jomei. I was told your people knew the ways of Air, so I have sought you out. Will you teach us?"
Tsangansar regarded her in silence for a while. The fire crackled in the stillness.
"Have you heard the news?" she asked. "We only received word from my remaining friends within the Order two days ago. The Avatar has returned."
Siensao's eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly before she caught herself. For his part, Jomei was stunned and even Zoukani looked surprised.
"Can you confirm this?" Siensao asked, her voice a little louder. "Does this news come from reliable sources?"
"The Fire Sages themselves have declared it," Tsangansar said, with a glance to Hideki. "The last airbender walks the world once more. All contact we have had with the Order since that message deals with him. Always the same thing. Do you know where he is, they ask us. Is he one of you? It seems as though an airbender might seek refuge among a people who stand humbled before the Eternal Blue Sky. I had thought you were merely another such person, sent here because the Order doubted our word. Does this change your purpose?"
Now it was Siensao's turn to think for a time. Jomei stared at the fire, afraid he might give something away if he looked at her. After a hundred years of nothing, suddenly the guy's back? If he's really an airbender...even if he was a baby before the Fire Nation wiped them out, he'd be over a hundred years old! What on earth was he doing all this time? Why did he pick now to come back? What did he come back for? To hell with that, what's the fastest way to find him so I can knock out a few teeth, assuming he has any left?
"No," Siensao said at last, "it doesn't. I can't act based only on that information. Besides, it's better to assume his failure and prepare for it."
"Damn right," Jomei agreed. "One man against a nation? I don't care how powerful he is, he's got no chance. We still have a war to win."
"I was not told of this," Hideki said, showing a hint of anger for once. "If I had been told, I would have left immediately to try and seek him out. I suppose the Order wanted me to stay at my post. I know the Fire Nation doesn't trust me for good reason, but this...those fools!"
Zoukani's face remained impassive, with no hint as to what was going on in his mind.
Tsangansar nodded.
"If you truly wish to bring the Order into the war, I will teach you. But if you are to learn our ways, you must work and fight with us. Also, you need to prove you are not children. Children contribute nothing to the camp. Make something useful with your own hands and bring it to me tomorrow. You will be guests in the home of my eldest daughter. She has lived alone since her husband and son were killed in the fighting and would welcome the company."
Siensao bowed as much as she was able, displaying no hint of the growing cramp in her leg.
"Thank you. We will return tomorrow, then."
"I could make a few Fire Nation corpses," Jomei muttered, "there's something useful."
"You think children can't kill?" Tsangansar asked him grimly, "Any fool can dispatch a wounded pig-sheep. Make something besides corpses, Jomei. We have enough of them already."
"I suppose it is time for me to leave," Hideki said, getting to his feet, "my work here is done. I would have greatly enjoyed learning more of your people, but I must return to my own."
"Why?" Tsangansar asked. "You are welcome among us."
In a few words, Hideki laid out the methods by which they had come here and his own decision to retain what honor he had left, as he put it. Tsangansar let out a sigh.
"Is there nothing I can do to persuade you? Honor can be regained later, but death cannot be undone. Sometimes there is nothing you can do but run."
"That is not true," Hideki said, "you always have a choice and I choose honor and my nation."
"It seems a foolish thing to die for," the chieftain said, shaking her head. "You could do a great deal of good still. Would you deprive the world of that?"
"Whatever good I might do, I will not go against my nation. I am sorry, but I don't wish to discuss this any further."
"Very well," Tsangansar said, rising to her feet, "then I will bid you farewell and wish your soul well on its journey to the Eternal Blue Sky." She picked up a little charm of colorful beads and feathers and offered it to him.
"This is a good luck charm I made when I was much younger," she said, "and now it is a token of our gratitude for your efforts. Take it with you, that you might have the scent of our people and freedom as you go."
Jomei dreamt. He stood atop a moving train, travelling swiftly across the steppe. Storm clouds were on the horizon and approaching fast, with lightning clawing across the sky.
"Hello, Grandad," he said.
Hanhei was sitting on the edge of the car's roof, looking away from him.
"Jomei," the spirit said, "I think I've given you enough for free. I think it's time our partnership became more equal. I'll continue to teach you techniques: in exchange, you carry out my..requests. One technique for one action. That's fair, isn't it?"
"Do you want me to fetch an exorcist?" Jomei snapped. The world flickered and now the train was passing through rocky foothills, winding past sheer cliffs and overhanging rock faces. It also seemed to have sped up, the wind whipping past at a roar.
"Go ahead," Hanhei invited him, looking over his shoulder at Jomei with a confident grin, "see if I care. We both know you'll never give up something as helpful as me. You'll listen to what I want and then, when you see it's only a little thing, you'll do it."
"What do you want?" Jomei growled.
"Just this: you've never asked how and why Jura became involved in your little escapade back in Omashu. But since Siensao arranged everything, she must know why. Ask her about it."
"I know why," Jomei said, a little too loudly, "she did it because we're family!"
"Who told you that? She did. Seventeen years and you think you're still family? She says she's had to forget you and you think of her as family? Things change, boy. But by all means, don't believe me. If you're so confident, ask Siensao about it. Do that and I'll continue teaching you the stone edge technique."
The train now passed into a dark tunnel, and he could see a fiery light at the end of it and feel burning heat. Still Jomei stood, unable to tell the old man off. Everything Hanhei had said was true, even if he was trying to get Jomei to distrust his own sister. He hadn't wanted to think about it. But Siensao did keep a lot of secrets...didn't he deserve to know a few?
"All right," he said, bowing his head, his cheeks burning with shame, "I'll ask her."
In the gray hours of the dawn, as golden light touched the eastern sky, Kyuzo stumbled through the Tumen camp, bleary-eyed and bone-tired but unable to find sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Akani suffering outside in the drizzle while he slept warm and dry inside the tent, probably awaiting a brutal execution as soon as Siensao decided she wasn't useful or Tsangansar tired of having to keep her around. Because of him. And he saw the sadness in Hideki's eyes as he trudged across the steppe, a long red dot on the grass, his back bent. He could picture the Fire Sage's own death. Because of him. And if things kept on as they were, more Fire Nation soldiers would die, just like the rows and rows of casualties he'd seen on his way to the front, a field smelling of blood and death and the noise of a thousand buzzing spider-flies out on the battle site. Because of him. It was all his fault. He should have died like he'd been told to. Better death than this half-life was leading.
As he moved through the camp, too frightened to light a fire in one hand to see for fear they'd cut him down without asking questions, he saw the place coming to life. It was like a strange mirror of what he'd seen in the Green Dragon camp the other day, in another life, when he could still pretend he was doing the honorable thing.
It wasn't like a military camp, it reminded him more of his hometown, on the coast. The rhythm of life here was more subtly woven, with men and women moving about on the ordinary tasks of life. There were no younger children, though, and none of the older ones acted like children. They had pride in doing an adult's work. It was madness. What kind of people brings wives and children to war? Why aren't they more disciplined? Their survival is at stake, shouldn't everything they do be focused on that? In the Fire Nation, it was well known that those who couldn't fight had no place on the battlefield. Even camp followers knew the risks. If battle threatened, they might well find themselves pressed into the ranks and given a spear to hold.
They were like animals in that they were always sniffing the air, or smelling each other. And they avoided him like a plague, not even getting as close as they would have if they were having a formal meeting in the Fire Nation. Everything here stank of country life and the smell of ostrich-horse was strong enough to make his eyes water if he got too close to the herds. He wasn't surprised the windy steppe was the only place they could live. But no matter how bad they smelled or how stupid they were about their families, it broke his heart all the more to see them this way. They live and die as a people. I can't help but respect that.
But now he was approaching where they kept Akani and he swallowed hard at the thought of the meeting. We might use prisoners on the front line or execute them, but we don't treat them like this! There were no guards, no one could be spared to spend their time watching a worthless prisoner. But neither were any tents pitched nearby and many of the warriors contrived their tasks to take them nearby often. Kyuzo made sure the white ostrich-horse feather he'd been given as a sign that he was permitted to pass about the camp was prominently displayed before walking to the edge of the earthbent pit. In the faint light, the opening was like a black hole in the grass.
"Akani?" he whispered, leaning over the edge, "it's me, Kyuzo!"
A brief burst of flame singed his nose and briefly illuminated the pit, showing Akani with her mouth open, having spat flame. Not many firebenders could do that in sufficient quantities to harm, but as his nose could attest, if the enemy was within spitting distance, sometimes you didn't need much. He ignited a small flame in one hand and held it out over the edge.
Akani stood in the cold mud at the bottom, her arms tied behind her back. It wasn't impossible to use ropes to restrain firebenders, so long as you knew how, but it was painful for the firebender. Somewhere along the line, she'd lost the tie that held her topknot in place and her hair was plastered to her head and face with the drizzle and mud. He was surprised that they'd let her keep her armor, but then, nobody wanted to risk untying her to take it off, and given the way they avoided him, he supposed they had their reasons.
"Akani, please, listen to me," he begged, "I need to talk to you!"
"Unless you're here to free me," she answered, "then we've got nothing to talk about, traitor! You made your choice!"
"I didn't mean for any of this to happen! It wasn't supposed to be this way!"
"Well, perhaps you can tell me just what was it supposed to be like? What did you think would happen when you agreed to betray your nation? Are you stupid enough to think you could commit treason and not have to deal with the results?"
"I didn't know this was what she had planned!"
"You knew she had something bad planned and that should have been enough! There's no half-assed way to turn traitor, you're either with us or against us, all the way!"
"I gave my word of honor! She said she wouldn't ask me to fight my own people!"
"Oh, merciful Agni, you really are that stupid..." Akani sat down, leaning her head back against the dirt wall. "So you're too much of a coward to just go over to the Earth Kingdom, you thought you could pay off this woman and then go your own way. It doesn't work like that. Never has. You never get something for nothing."
"I know, I made a mistake, but I was desperate, they were going to torture me to death and there was this girl and...well...why are we here?"
For the first time, Akani stopped looking angry and just looked confused.
"Excuse me?" she snapped.
"Why are we here, why is the Fire Nation here, in the Earth Kingdom?"
"To win the war, of course," Akani answered, still sounding dumbfounded by the question, "was there ever any doubt?"
"But...what for? What's the point of it all? We have all the resources we could possibly need, we rule half the Earth Kingdom! What's the point of more? What good is it doing for us to die? We're obviously the superior nation, nobody can dispute that now, how will conquering the rest of the world make that point any more clear? Why are we here?"
Akani sighed.
"Another one, huh? I run across your type from time to time. Look, I'll put this as simply as I can: we need to win this war for our people to survive. If we stop now, we might as well slit our own throats and save the enemy the trouble."
"I...don't understand," Kyuzo mumbled.
"Yeah, I'm guessing that goes for a lot of things with you," she said with a snort, "So just listen and I'll explain. Suppose you count everyone in the world. Does the Fire Nation, colonies included, have as many people as the Earth Kingdom?"
"No."
"Does the Fire Nation have as much resources, counting all the mines and farms securely under our control, than the rest of the world?"
"No."
"Then why are we winning the war now?"
Kyuzo was only more confused. These were basic questions, the kind a child might be asked.
"Because our machines and tactics are more advanced and we took out key Earth Kingdom assets when Sozin's Comet last came. And the Avatar is dead."
"Right. But the Earth Kingdom has talented minds as well, and even now, they're working to copy our machinery and designs from what they've captured. Suppose we stop now, declare peace, say we won't go any further. Do you really think the Earth Kingdom will just roll over and let us take half the lands that used to be theirs?"
"Well...no."
"And since they still have more people and more resources than us, once they do come for us again, they'll be ready. They'll have all the advantages we have and superior numbers. And in the meantime, resistance in the newly occupied territories will keep us spread thin and wear us down. The Water Tribes will grow bolder. And our people will lose heart because they'll know we could have won, but we didn't. Agni, maybe the Avatar will even return, who knows? They say he already has." She shook her head. "No, the only way for us to survive is to win this war so completely that nobody will dare rise against us. If we finish the war, most of the world will give up without a fight. The only way out for us is to keep fighting. You understand now?"
"I understand," Kyuzo said miserably, "but...well..."
"Spit it out, soldier, the faster we finish this the faster you go away and leave me alone. I can hardly kill you for treason with my arms tied like this."
"Maybe we deserve to suffer as much as the other nations have."
"Really? And why would you think that?"
"I...well..." He sighed. "In some of the conquered villages...I saw things. The people hated us. Even after months of our government, they hated us. If the Fire Nation is superior, shouldn't they welcome us?"
"People are frighteningly ignorant about what's best for them," Akani said. "Surely you know that."
"Yes, of course, but a lot of the Earth Kingdom people I've met aren't ignorant at all. And it wasn't just killing in battle! Once, when I went through a recently captured village, the troops were..." Words failed him at the memory. The screaming and pleas for mercy. The shrieked curses. The laughter of the Fire Nation soldiers. "What kind of people do things like that? What kind of people are we?"
"The kind who win, whatever it takes," Akani said grimly. "I never said it was a good thing. I know what you mean, Kyuzo, I've seen a lot more of war than you have. It gets ugly out here. But when we win, the killing stops. Just focus on that. It all stops when we win. That's all that matters. If we can get through this, it'll all be worth it."
Kyuzo shook his head.
"I...I don't know. I just don't know anything anymore."
"That much is obvious," Akani muttered. "If you decide to grow a spine, come back here when you're ready to help me escape and I'll make sure you at least get a quick death on our return, if nothing else. I promise you, the rest of the Green Dragons won't do as much. We're coming for these pig-sheep, and you don't want to be with them when we catch up."
The rain still fell, little more than a heavy mist. The ground was still muddy, and dew glistened on the grass in the grey morning light. The clang of steel on steel rang out across the steppe. For the third time that morning, Siensao found herself sprawled on the ground, thankful for having the sense to wear her oldest set of clothes today. Reki had recovered quickly and resumed their lessons with a vengeance.
"You have been neglecting your practice," Reki said, reaching down to help the merchant up, "but given that I was not capable of teaching and such things would not have been practical during our time at sea, that can be forgiven. However, I think it is time we spoke of the methods of war. You still have a worthy goal, as I said, but have yet to learn how to achieve it. Suppose you do convince this Order of yours to fight. What then? How will you succeed where all the armies of the Earth Kingdom have failed for the last hundred years?"
Siensao looked uncomfortable.
"I'd really rather not say. When you get drunk, you talk, and well..."
"I might let something slip, yes. If this weren't the case, though, would you tell me?"
Siensao's hesitation did not go unnoticed.
"You're ambitious," Reki admitted, "and you might succeed. But not the way you're going about it. You don't reward your allies for their service and you sacrifice people too willingly. Hideki didn't have to die."
"How else could we have gotten here?"
"Kill the sentries and desert in the middle of the night," Reki said matter-of-factly. "The only difference would be that you'd be held directly responsible. This is also as I said: you are afraid of actually fighting. You are too concerned with keeping yourself and everything you do secret."
"You have secrets as well," Siensao noted.
"I keep mine for a good reason You keep many of yours because you can. Why else do you keep Zoukani around?"
"I can't risk my plans being betrayed," Siensao hissed. "In any case, the only reason I'm not telling you this is because you drink too much."
"What about Jomei?"
"Jomei is...indiscreet. He might give away something without meaning to."
"All right, let me put it in clearer terms: who would you trust with all your plans for the world? Who would you trust enough to tell everything about yourself and what you mean to do?"
Siensao looked away from Reki's accusing gaze and said nothing.
"Part of the reason you've been doing so well at the Dance of the Whispering Winds is because avoidance of harm is second nature to you," Reki said. "Your actions in battle do not lie. You are afraid and you must overcome it before you can move on to the next Dance."
"And what would you recommend, master?" Siensao said, her calm reserve back in place.
Reki pointed to where Jomei had just emerged from the tent they'd been sharing, yawning mightily.
"Give up a secret. If not to me, than to him. One secret that you'd rather not speak about. We must begin with small steps. I mean to include Jomei in the next part of today's lesson; I will wait."
Jomei approached the two women with his usual apprehension, which was only amplified when Siensao turned and walked over to meet him halfway there, leaving Reki behind. She didn't quite meet his eyes, her posture guarded.
"Hey, are you all right?" he asked.
"Jomei...it has been brought to my attention that I have been less than forthcoming with you about many things. I must apologize. If...if there is something you wish to know, I would like you to ask."
Jomei could hardly believe it. Hanhei couldn't have predicted this...could he? Did the crazy old man really see the future. No, don't start buying into the old man's crap just because of coincidence, idiot! But he wasn't about to let the chance slip by, not when he'd finally built up the courage, so he blurted out,
"How did Jura get involved in the whole prison break scheme in Omashu? I never asked her to. I never even told her about it and Reki never even met her. So I know you brought her into it. What did you tell her to bring her into it?"
Siensao came close to fear in that moment. That was the worst possible question he could have asked and whatever answer she gave, something would go wrong.
"Yes," she answered, frantically searching for an answer that would satisfy both Jomei and Reki, "I asked her to participate once I found out she was an excellent earthbender, if only with the golem form. It fit in perfectly with the plan and her loyalty was absolute. As for her reasons...well, I never asked, but I would have to say...she did it out of love."
Jomei was immensely relieved. But then another thought occurred to him.
"How did you find her, anyway? Omashu is a big city, it seems pretty incredible that you'd just run into her."
"Believe me, I was as surprised as you," Siensao said, also relieved to be back on safer ground, "but it was only chance. Unless you believe in destiny."
Jomei made a sour face.
"Not likely. Well...thanks a lot for telling me that. And here grandad almost had me thinking my own sister was playing me for a fool somehow."
"You've been talking with Hanhei again?" Siensao asked. "You've been warned not to trust him and you still listened?"
Jomei raised his hands, grinning sheepishly.
"Hey, I never claimed to be smart, that's what you're here for. Anyway, I've got my 'useful thing,' for Tsangansar, you ready to head over to her place?"
"We're not quite finished with lessons, but Reki wanted you to attend the rest. I'm not sure what she has in mind."
"Can't imagine I'd make a very good swordsman," Jomei said with a shrug, "but I'll listen."
"Learn this," Reki said to her two pupils, "to lead in war, as in life, you must lead by example, by your actions. If they are worthy, warriors will follow you and you will earn the respect of your people. Do not eat well when your warriors are starving. Do not remain within your tent when they shiver upon the sands. Always be the first to charge and the last to retreat. A leader can be killed anywhere, it is best to face battle rather than shrink from it. If your talents run to tactics but not to swordsmanship, you are an excellent advisor but you cannot lead from the front and cannot earn the respect of your warriors, for no one can respect a leader who has not endured the same hardships and accomplished the same feats as his followers have. Hold to these principles and you will encompass the essence of what it is to lead."
"I think that's the most I've heard you say at once since we met," Jomei said, a sort of half-smile on his face, "and I'm curious...why tell this to me? For that matter, why tell it at all? You're always saying about how you hate fighting."
"I still do," Reki answered, "and I tell it to you because you must learn of war now that we face one, and though I am a poor teacher, I will do my best. But my lessons are not lectures. Both of you should go and help the Tumen with their herds. Return when they pronounce you worthy."
Jomei shrugged.
"When I have the time, sure."
"Of course," Siensao said, "but for now, as Jomei said, we need to speak with Tsangansar."
The interior of Tsangansar's tent hadn't changed, but sitting down in the Tumen fashion remained mightily uncomfortable, so Jomei thought. The chieftain herself still spoke quietly enough that he had to listen carefully.
"So," she said softly, "what have you made that is useful?"
Jomei wordlessly took the battered straw hat from his head and offered it to her. It had been a gut-wrenching choice, but his trade was useless here and there had been no time to get dry grass to make another hat. It was all he had to offer.
Siensao held out a small calligraphy brush with both hands.
"While I made it a long time ago, I hope it is still acceptable," she said, bowing her head.
"What is useful is always acceptable," Tsangansar said, taking the brush, then turning her gaze to Jomei. "I have no wish to deprive you of a hat in our weather," she said gently, "so I will give you one in return." She reached over to where one of the Tumen wool caps hung on a peg and the two exchanged hats. The cap was quite warm, Jomei admitted, and it fit well enough, if a little loosely, but he was certain he looked ridiculous.
"Thanks," he said, "it means a lot."
It was another bright and sunny day in Lumin and Kuboda the customs official was enjoying it as much as he could, which was to say he was bored out of his mind and his writing hand was cramping again. This next ship coming into port was riding low in the water, which meant lots of cargo to write down. It was days like this he almost wished somebody would try to bribe him, at least then he wouldn't have to write more things down. A single passenger accompanied the captain on his way over. Another desert woman. That's two in three days. He took a closer look, glad for a legitimate diversion. The woman wore a sword at her side - he suspected it might just be because of some desert custom to walk about armed, since no one with such a bad limp could actually be expected to fight. The woman quietly waited her turn whilst Kuboda saw to the captain's papers, a pleasant change from the usual impatient demands he heard daily. His berthing slip and cargo manifest in order, the captain returned to his ship without so much as a farewell to his passenger.
"Have you seen this woman?" she demanded as soon as she stepped closer, before Kuboda could wish her welcome or ask for her papers, slapping a single printed sheet on his table. It was a Fire Nation wanted poster for a women called Reki, who was clearly the other tribeswoman he'd run into the other day. He skimmed over the list of charges, noting it was quit extensive. Now he was well and truly curious, but he knew enough to keep his face blank and bored.
"I could check our records for someone of that name," he said, "but I see so many people come and go, you understand, that I lose track, and if I begin checking all the records, people will be bothered and they'll want compensation for time lost. I hate to mention money, but if there's anything you could do..."
"I'm in a hurry and I'm in no mood to trifle with," she snapped, "I'm not going to ask again!" He felt the stone under his feet dissolve into sand, then reach upwards to take hold of his feet in a stone-hard grip. He stifled a yelp.
"Answer me or I'll start breaking bones," she hissed. "Have you seen this woman?"
"Yes!" Kuboda answered in a voice about an octave higher than normal. "I saw her come through Lumin three days ago, traveling with four others! I can look up the names for you if you want!"
The sand abruptly relaxed.
"That's all I need to know," the tribeswoman said, a little calmer now, and began walking away.
"Uh, I'll need to see your...papers...and..." He trailed off when she looked back at him and raised her hand again.
"Enjoy your visit to Lumin!" he said, pasting a ghastly smile on his face, and she turned and left. He breathed a sigh of relief. No, today was not a good day.