Thank you to CACrest and GreyNoise for proofreading!

Chapter 38: A Tale of Sacrifice

When Sokka had been growing up, there had been an old man in the village who never stopped staring out at the snow. Not particularly strange, given most of the year there was nothing but snow.

This man was looking for something, though, his aging eyes always shifting to and fro … especially in the dead of winter. It was unnerving, the haunted look in those old eyes. Katara was probably too young to remember, but Sokka recalled him. He recalled how the man would always have a fire nearby. He kept it hot, even when it was not cold.

Sokka had always kept his distance from this old man for he felt there was something otherworldly about him. It was like the old man could see between realms and that he was waiting for something. One day, Sokka had decided to approach the old man, though, cold and wet from playing in the snow. The man had a fire after all and anyone in the village was welcome to share its heat.

The old man hadn't even looked away from the horizon when Sokka had sat before his fire, dusk starting to fall over the glittering expanse.

There was only silence, except for the howl of the wind and the crackling of the fire. Then the old man spoke, his words haunting, "Boy. Why you still outside? You shouldn't be outside tonight. Not tonight."

Young Sokka, frowning and misinterpreting the warning, thought it was a challenge. "I'm not scared of the dawrk."

The old man released a grating laugh and smiled almost bitterly at Sokka's chubby look of defiance. The old man's next words carried little humor, though. "You should be. Spirits have an easier time crossing in the dark and forgotten places, especially tonight. Remember, this world was theirs before it was ours and without the Avatar … there is no way to truly escape their vengeance. And spirits, they are patient. They don't mind waiting, even a lifetime."

Sokka stared, eyes big as dread started to crawl into his young heart.

The old man merely continued, the scar near his mouth seeming taunt and tight as he rubbed a hand over his lower jaw. "Just like I know that he will be coming for me. I escaped all those years ago, a lifetime ago, but he still got my entire family. Did you know there used to be two villages on either side of this cold cape, child? Like two brothers on the ice? I was the only one that got out alive. He, it, came to punish us. That spirit crawled up from a dark place in the snow. He came to take."

Sokka, at this time, had been near tears, his young mind swimming with monsters. The old man stalled and merely smiled before he patted the young boy with a gnarled hand. His next words were warm despite their weight, "Don't worry, little wolf. Just keep the fire burning hot tonight and it won't bother you. This is something I have been waiting for … for many years. It best have an old man's blood than a young pup's. Now, you head in tonight and don't come outside no matter what. And don't look back. Old I may be, but a fight I will still put up."

Sokka had all but ran to the hut, his young mind now noticing that everyone else was already in their own huts and that an unnatural darkness had seemed to settle over the world. He had dared to glance back though as the fur over the door settled closed. He had dared to glance back … and never would he forget. The man's eyes had been looking at Sokka, piercing into his very soul as if saying, 'Look at me … and not the shadow behind me.' Sokka had tried not to see the dark figure slowly rising up over the old man, or its mangled unworldly too-many limbs or its grinning jaw. But he had glanced. Just a moment … before the fur over the hut's entrance fell shut.

There were no screams like he expected to hear. There were no sounds of carnage, nor cries of vigor from a hard fought battle. It was silent.

It was like listening to a fire slowly go out.

It was a whimper.

The next day the village was the same as it always was. No signs of spirits … nor the old man. He was just gone as if he had been dragged away by shadows. There wasn't even a drop of blood in the snow to be found nor any signs of a struggle. It could have been a dream. Then again, it could have been the type of spirit that only existed once you acknowledged its existence. In asking even about the old man Sokka felt he would admit that the thing he had seen in the dark was real, and then it would come and snatch his village up as well.

So Sokka swallowed his questions like a heavy stone to forever be carried in his stomach. In this way he unknowingly gathering hate and fear for the spirit world, wondering if someday the shadowed being would come and claim him as well.

Staring at Miki's cold form, Sokka silently wondered if that spirit had finally caught up with him in some way. He wondered if this was somehow his fault for looking back all those years ago. Taking a breath, Sokka decided it didn't matter if that was the reason. There was no point in regretting it now.

Instead, like the old man, part of him accepted it. He accepted that Miki was all but dead and that spirits were spirits. They were here before us, be they born from rivers, forest, rocks or even the forgotten dead. And now there was no Avatar to cool their ire or calm their hearts. All you could do was fight … even if it was with a bag of rice.

And so Sokka started to pour the rice around Miki's form, his expression somber as Katara and Suki continued to hang onto their denial.

Katara, finally unable to take the sound of rice slowly rolling to the floor like so many loose thoughts, finally ran over and grabbed her brother's hand, stalling his work. Her words were choked and probably spoken more on Suki's defense more than her own. "What are you doing? She's not dead!"

Staring at his sister, frowning deeply like his father always did, Sokka pried his hand away. "Katara … even if she isn't dead, she isn't completely alive either. I honestly don't know how rice is going to stop a spirit, but dad put me in charge of you so I will do what I have to."

Katara took a step back as if offended. She then gave Miki's still cold form one more glance before she stomped over and grabbed Suki's hand, murmuring, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

The herbalist, giving the boy a half-crazed look, finally waved her hand as if to continue. Her tone was scratchy but at least it was befitting for the atmosphere, "Finish putting the rice on her, boy. And then I will tell you a tale of these surrounding valleys and why these things came to be. Mind you, they have always been here, but the Fire Nation rarely recognizes the beliefs of others and why they have them."

"Of course, it's the Fire Nations fault," grumbled Sokka as he delicately poured the rice around her like an outline. Part of him made sure to keep rice off of her delicate face, though. She had been pretty.

Waving a gnarled hand, the old woman continued, "Well, time for granny to tell a tale, eh? I suppose the best place to start would have to be the beginning. Mind you there are varying versions, but this is the one I was told when I was young during the Rice Festival."

"Long ago, when this mountain was young, there wasn't a valley at all. It was one large mountain, but people came here regardless. The mountain spirit saw their troubles in living up so high and said he would suck in his gut and go hungry so that there would be land for them to grow their crops. He only asked that they give part of their crop to fill his empty belly once a year. The villagers agreed and for a time, things were good."

"Much time passed and a young tax collector came to collect taxes for the current king. He was aghast that the villagers were not paying taxes on the rice they were throwing away to caves, nooks and little rock temples throughout the surrounding mountains that the large mountain had become. He demanded that all the extra rice be given to the current king to make up for all the rice they wasted previous years. The villagers begged and pleaded, saying there wouldn't be enough to give the spirit and feed their families. The tax collector would hear nothing of it and took the rice, forcing the villagers to feed their families over appeasing the spirit. And it continued that way for a while, the mountain slowly growing hungrier and hungrier as the years passed."

"Soon, travelers started to go missing, and then people that had strayed too far into the woods. It didn't take long for the villagers to grow so wary that they didn't even want to mind the crops. It was in this disarray that the tax collector came back to find that the rice had not been harvested yet. He threatened to take all the rice this year."

"The villagers, deciding that something had to be offered to the mountain god, decided to trick the tax collector and lured him up to one of the largest caves in the mountain. The Gaping Maw it was called. They then threw him in, crying out to the mountain god that this was the man that had been starving him the last few years and perhaps the fat on his belly would suffice for this year."

"In the dark, the man floundered about, trying to crawl back up. The mountain god merely watched him before coming forward. In the moonlight, the mountain spirit apparently looked like a gaunt and half-starved tiger-elk with far too many horns. The great spirit stared at the man with hunger and disgust. He did not require flesh of the mortal world, but he was starving… so he took the sacrifice that had been offered, for, like the rice, it was given freely."

"He ate the man's essence, his chi, and for a time was full."

"A human body cannot remain alive and chi-less though. So the jiangshi was born. It is easy to say that the first few years were hard for the people in the mountains with the jiangshi always hungry, wanting to replace its lost chi."

"The mountain spirit saw this and mourned for what it had created, but neither could it destroy its creation. It is said the villagers asked the Avatar what they should do. The Avatar, after communicating with the spirit and the villagers, created the Rice Festival. Temples were quickly built by all the prominent caves serving as both a place for offerings and a place of rest for the jiangshi. Villagers only had to offer some rice at these shrines to feed the mountain … and to keep the jiangshi asleep in their beds of rice."

"As you probably can already tell, there is no one left or allowed to offer rice to the mountain nor its dark children," finished the old woman, the old tale hanging in the air

Sokka, now done with his somber chore, was now frowning. He swallowed shallowly as he asked, "And you want us to do what? Take rice to all the shrines? I don't know if you have noticed lady, but we are sneaking the back way around the mountain to ignore fire-benders. We don't want to get closer to the villages that were conquered just to throw rice down some hole."

The old woman cackled, shaking her head, "As if there are any shrines left. The fire-benders destroyed most of them because they were created by an Avatar. They detest any artifacts of the Avatar. They never once took a moment to think why the Avatar might have made them."

Taking only a moment to be shocked, Sokka barked, "What do you want me to do about it then?"

Shrugging, the old woman admitted, "Nothing. Such is the nature of neutral chi. The Fire Nation will either see the error in their ways … or the mountain will slowly reclaim itself."

Frowning, anger bubbling to the surface, Sokka barked, "And what are we supposed to do then? Wait for the fire-benders to do something good? Ha. We need to get off this mountain and away from those things. How about you tell us how to do that?"

"Very quickly, I would imagine," chuckled the old woman. "Jiangshi have trouble crossing large amounts of moving water, such as a river, for the river spirit feels it is a corpse for them to claim. Or so they say. If you can get over the Yellow Pearl River before they catch you, then you should be free from their reach."

Sokka, dwelling on the maps that the group had been going by, suddenly started, "Yellow Pearl River, that's at least a two days walk. A normal walk … without children! We would never make it before nightfall."

Giving the boy a mad look, the old woman cackled again in what seemed to be a bout of madness as she added, "Well, the Rice Festival is a Festival of sacrifice. In the past, the spirits have been known to take other things. Tell me, boy, what are you willing to give up to protect the ones around you?"

Sokka was too stunned to say anything. Her words hitting too close to home. Because, for a moment, Sokka could only think of his mother.

…

"Children, you say? In a hurry? And they didn't pass too far from where the company was ambushed?" said Sensu as he looked at the small blue shoe in his hand. The YuYan archers had gathered once again nearby the ambush site, grains of rice visible even meters from the campsite. "It is unlikely that they saw anything because I doubt that a thirty man unit wouldn't have seen them. Then again, we have no other leads, do we?"

The rest of the YuYan archers in his team nodded in agreement. The only thing anyone had really found was the severe lack of well … anything. There were seemingly no animals about. Not even the song of swamp frogs could be heard. Given the farms they had taken, there really hadn't been much need for hunting, but now it was horrifically obvious how long something had been wrong. Just how long did it take every animal in the mountains to disappear? It also brought into question the lack of resistance fighters. Even though the city of Taku was long ago destroyed, there were still groups willing to fight for its ruins and strategic location. Everyone had merely thought that they had been quiet these last few months … the truth was probably something else had gotten to them first.

Putting the little shoe in a side bag, Sensu nodded at the others. "Well, it is better to go back with some captives than nothing at all. We should fetch them. Perhaps the locals might be able to enlighten us with what is going on here. Local lore can carry more weight than we know, especially if it has something to do with local spirits. It is best we find out as soon as possible."

The others nodded in agreement again. Then, without another word, they dashed forward like fast moving red-elks towards the ruins of the city. Ye Lui would stall from time to time to look at the children's footprints along the path to see where the small group was headed. It wasn't long before they were dragged into the ruins of Taku and towards the upper north side of the decimated city where a set of seemingly endless steps led upward.

Looking up, twilight starting to fall upon the ruins of the city like a final goodbye, the men watched as one building gained a few twinkling lights. It was lamplight. There had been a rumor of an old, hermit woman that still lived in the city. She, apparently, healed any wayward Earth Kingdom soldier that still knew she was there.

Well, it seemed they had finally found her. It was no wonder … no one wanted to run up that many stairs.

Bhao, looking at all the steps he would have to run up given it was the easiest way up the mountain, grumbled, "So, do we run up all the steps now or when it's dark so we can trip easier?"

"An ambush is much easier in the dark," answered Sensu simply, before he added, "Plus, it wouldn't do for one of them to see us running up the steps now, would it? It is best to wait until nightfall."

Frowning, looking behind himself bitterly at the unnatural silence that seemed to have gathered for the coming evening, the youngest member couldn't help but ask, "And what of the thing or things in the forest?"

Wenzhou, always one to silence any type of whining, quickly asked, "What? Do you think your footsteps too loud? Or do you think your brothers in battle were not swift and silent enough coming up the mountain? Do you think a beast or spirit has already found us? We are no mere pikemen nor clumsy fully-armored fire-benders. We are YuYan. Hunters of the sun."

Cringing inward slightly while pressing a little closer to the tree trunk he was situated near, Bhao pouted and looked back up at the mountain before he mumbled, "I didn't say that."

Nodding, always knowing exactly what to say or do to silence the youngster, Wenzhou smiled.

Shortly after, the six men hunkered down for their wait in the tree's branches. None of them were the wiser that something was watching not only them but the mountain before them. For it was not their stealth that had given them away. No, their footsteps were indeed light and nearly soundless. It, in fact, was their very breath.

A breath of chi and life can attract many an unwanted thing.

After all, it was the first night of the Rice Festival.

XXX

Paw07: Sorry, a short update. Well, it's better than no update I suppose. Personally, I blame work … and maybe Elder Scrolls Online… I regret nothing.

(Revisions December 2016)