The calm before the storm is unbearable. Of all the times to think of a movie quote, Israel was doing it just before attacking a suspected Taliban compound in northern Pakistan. A base camp had been set up just out of sight of the compound, the Black Hawk helicopters ready to go. Navy SEALs were checking equipment and chatting all around her, while she inspected her own firearms. The other Nations were scattered around the encampment, going over their weapons, inspecting their gear, making sure their bulletproof vests were on right, and antagonizing each other like adolescents. Pakistan and Afghanistan in particular were having quite the argument. Israel wondered when they were going to leap for each other's' throats.
Something in Israel's pocket beeped. She reached in and pulled out her phone. The touchscreen had to be unlocked: once that was done, Israel saw she had an email from her boss. That was curious. Her boss didn't have the time to send his Nation a casual text, so it must be work-related. Did she have paperwork waiting for her when she got back? Had she neglected her work too much?
A quick scan of the email's contents told Israel it wasn't her paperwork. "Alfred," she called, using America's human name. The SEALs around them didn't know about the Nations, and it was going to stay that way. "Alfred, you need to see this. Get over here."
"Wha?" America stood up and strode over. "Something important?" Saudi Arabia and Iran got up and went to see as well: after a moment, Iraq nudged Pakistan and pointed to Israel. Pakistan and Afghanistan postponed their argument to go see what everyone was looking at.
With five—no, six, Iraq had just joined them—people looking over her shoulders, Israel scrolled to the top of the message and began to read it aloud. She kept her voice soft, lest any of the SEALs overhear something they shouldn't, and made sure to keep an eye out for any curious humans.
"'Hadassah," the e-mail began with Israel's human name, "a recent intelligence report has led me to believe that I know how the terrorists who attacked the Tehran conference came to be aware of the existence of the Nations. The American military reported the disappearance of one Terrance Daniels two months ago: three days ago, he was recovered alive. His statement to the American military, which was shared with me, explains the attack.
"'It would seem that, in his youth, Mr. Daniels made the acquaintance of one Alfred F. Jones." Everyone's eyes turned to America briefly. He grinned and shrugged: Israel kept reading. "They had several brief encounters in New York over the course of a month before Mr. Daniels moved to Kentucky. Years later, while on a respite from his first tour in Iraq, Mr. Daniels encountered Mr. Jones once more. He was shocked to see that, despite the passage of ten years, Mr. Jones appeared the same as he had when they first met.
"'Mr. Daniels refrained from speaking with Mr. Jones at that time, but kept turning the incident over in his mind while preparing for his next tour of duty. While on a routine patrol, he and his companions were attacked by insurgents. Though his friends escaped, Mr. Daniels was captured and tortured. It was during the torture sessions that Mr. Daniels allowed his knowledge of Alfred F. Jones' curious case to slip.
"'This knowledge was naturally of immense interest to the insurgents. Mr. Daniels' part in the incident ends there. Speculation is all we have for what happened next. Whatever course of investigation the insurgents used, it led them to the realization that Alfred F. Jones has lived in the land of the United States of America since the days of the first English settlement, Jamestown.'"
"I was around about a hundred years before that, actually," America muttered.
"'Several captured insurgents have been induced to disclose more information about their proceedings once they realized Alfred's apparent immortality. They wiretapped several of his homes in New York, Washington DC, and Virginia. He called one Arthur Kirkland of England several times, mostly prank calls, before they realized that Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland referred to each other as 'America' and 'England,' respectively. Further research into Arthur Kirkland showed he had lived in England for as long as records existed, possibly longer.
"'Armed with the knowledge that at least two of these seemingly-immortal people existed, and that they referred to each other as countries, the insurgents began to investigate other countries. When they found that every world government had at least one seemingly-immortal dependent, one of them drew the conclusion that these people must be the personifications of the Nations themselves. This theory was originally ridiculed, but further wiretapping proved it the truth.
"Once the insurgents knew the Nations existed, they began to look for opportunities to abduct at least one. Alfred F. Jones phoned an Israeli woman called Hadassah—who proved to be you, Israel—and discussed an upcoming meeting'—wait a minute, I remember that call!" Israel exclaimed. She glanced up at America. "They were listening to that?!"
"Sounds like." Pakistan peered at Israel. "So we have both of you to blame for this."
"Hey, it was pure coincidence," America asserted. "They would have learned about us somehow after Daniels talked."
"It could just as easily have been an acquaintance of yours, Pakistan," Saudi Arabia pointed out. "In fact, I'm surprised they learned from an American. Many in my home know of my status."
"Israel, finish it up," Iran urged. "I want to know the rest."
"All right," Israel agreed. "'And discussed an upcoming meeting'…ah, 'to be held in Tehran soon. This gave the insurgents a clear target. They arranged for a group of their men to infiltrate the building disguised as janitors: weapons were smuggled in with boxes of cleaning supplies. When the time came for the attack, it was only the fortunate presence of the Austrian woman that prevented them from capturing you outright. The secret passage out of the conference room was originally a failsafe method of escape in case of attack: the insurgents learned of its existence and turned it to their own purposes.
"'I pray you remain safe while you are abroad, and ask that you not take any unnecessary risks. It is a wonderful thing to know that my Nation herself does not stand by as innocents are injured. This human is truly fortunate that you would go to save her yourself. When you return, you must tell me everything that has happened.
"'Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister.'"
"He thinks Li's Austrian?" Pakistan questioned. "Hope he doesn't talk to my boss about her, I told Raja she was an American."
"She does live with Austria," Israel shrugged.
"But she speaks American English." Pakistan stepped back and stretched, hands reaching over her head. "Plus America was the one who called her to Tehran in the first place."
Saudi Arabia sighed. "Wherever Li is from, it's not our business," he reminded the other Nations. "Now hurry and finish your preparations. The attack will commence soon."
"All right," Pakistan rolled her shoulders. "Don't have to tell me twice."
"Yeah!" America fist-pumped. "Time to be the hero!"
"Here we go again…" Iraq groaned.
"Ow! Freezing leg!" Li shouted as her leg folded under her weight. She caught herself on the couch, then maneuvered her way onto it, wincing as she did.
Still can't walk across your cell without collapsing? Ru-voice spoke.
"Shut up," Li grumbled. Her patience with the voice in her head was wearing thinner by the second. At first Li had welcomed the voice, however worrying it was. Now she was fed up with it. Would she be this annoyed with Ru if Ru were actually here? Probably…Li had noticed that she thought more fondly of some people when she hadn't been around them for a while. Ru might be Li's oldest and dearest friend and protector, but even her presence could get tedious.
Ru-voice obligingly stopped talking, letting Li massage her leg in peace. The wound was healing slowly, too slowly for Li's liking. She would have killed for a Healer. If it hadn't been counter-productive, she would have cut off her leg for Ming.
But she had to make due with what she had, which was absolutely nothing. The lack of windows, and thus sunlight, was taking its toll on Li's mood. She wanted to feel the sun's warmth, to bathe her skin in its light. Her pale skin felt even paler without the sun. "Firebenders don't tan, they burn"…if Li got any paler, she'd look like a ghost. Even a sunburn was preferable to this!
Well, her leg hurt a little less now. Carefully pushing herself up, Li tested her weight and took a tentative step forward—
BOOM!
-just as the room shook. Li's wounded leg buckled underneath her. Bits of plaster rained down from the ceiling. She landed on her rear, avoiding further injury to her leg, and covered her head with her hands in case anything larger than a few flakes came off the ceiling. When a moment passed without anything hitting her, Li raised her head and looked around.
Nothing in her cell was damaged or fallen. Her bedsheets looked more rumpled than they had been, and a pillow was out of place, but that was all. People were shouting and running outside the room. On the very edge of Li's hearing was a dull roar.
What was going on?
The door to Li's cell crashed open, and two armed men burst in. "Stand up," one shouted. His friend didn't speak, but the way he held his gun told Li that the order wasn't optional.
"What's going on?" Li asked as she pushed herself up. "What was that?"
"No questions," the man snarled. "Get against the wall."
"Why?"
"Get against the wall!" he roared. His friend raised his gun.
Li's heart sank. They were going to kill her. Something had gone wrong, and they were going to kill her. She stumbled backwards. Her back hit the wall. A buzzing, tingling feeling spread through her body. The men pointed their guns at her…
And she reacted. In the split second that the men began to pull the triggers, Li ducked. Using the wall behind her for extra propulsion, she threw herself forward at the men's legs. Bullets ripped into the wall where Li's torso and head had been a moment earlier, then careened upwards at the ceiling as Li collided with the men's legs. Everyone fell to the floor in a heap.
Before the men could recover, Li pushed herself up. Part of her registered that her bad leg was aching: the rest was too focused on surviving to care. She delivered a swift kick to one man's crotch. He screamed and doubled over, curling into a fetal position.
The other man was faster. He sat up, his gun training on Li. "Die, bitch," he spat. In the part of her mind that was still thinking, Li noticed he had the same accent as England, and wondered if this man had spent some time in England's country before.
Li's leg was already drawn back to kick at this man. Dodging would have put her off-balance, and thus at a disadvantage. She swept her leg forward. The man's trigger finger tightened…
Fire flared into life along the path of Li's leg. Caught off guard, the man's hand went slack. His gun tumbled from his hand. Li's fire caught along his right pant leg, searing the flesh. He howled in pain as a fireball hit his groin full-force.
There was a pause as Li replaced her foot on the ground. Her mind blanked for a second, then was absorbed with the fact that she had just shot a fireball at someone's groin. It was an inside joke with her friends that Ru shot fireballs at the groins of anyone who tried to hurt Li. When Li got back home…
You are never going to hear the end of this, Ru-voice observed.
Shut up, you. I'm not telling them, Li retorted.
They'll find out eventually. You're horrible at keeping secrets.
Shuddup.
I'm just saying…
Shut. Up. Now. Please.
Ru-voice fell silent. Deciding that counted as a victory, Li limped to the door. She glanced back at the room. The man with a flaming pant leg had managed to set his friend's clothing on fire as well. A whiff of charred flesh reached Li's nose.
They had witnessed her Firebending, she realized. If they survived, they might tell someone. Whoever they told could tell the Nations. Then Li's little secret would be out, and she would have to tell the Nations everything, and they would either think her crazy or lose what trust they had in her. She couldn't risk losing the Nations' friendship—aside from her enjoying having them as friends, they were all that was keeping Li off the streets.
She should kill them, Li realized. It would be the smart thing to do. They had been prepared to kill her, so it was only fitting that she be willing to do the same. Killing them was the smart thing to do.
Li took a step towards the men on the ground. Flames licked around her clenched right hand. She felt strangely calm. One blast would be enough to kill them…then a couple more could char the remains beyond recognition. Completely incinerating them would be the best route, but Li didn't know if she had the time for that. More fire coalesced around her hands.
One of the men looked up at her. His eyes were wide and terrified, mouth open in a silent scream. When he saw the fire around Li's hands he tried to push himself away from her. "M-monster!" he cried. "Demon!" Li took another step towards him, and he scrabbled at the floor, running into his friend. The fire on the other man caught in the scared man's hair, crisping it away.
With cold eyes, Li raised her hand.
An idiot. She was a total, utter idiot. Pele and Agni be her witnesses, she was a complete idiot. Why hadn't she killed those two men?! It would have been the smart thing to do. They knew about her Firebending. So why hadn't she killed them?!
But…the look in that man's eyes…just before she gave a killing blow, she wondered if that was how Kuzon had looked to the man who killed him. The thought made Li freeze where she stood. If she killed that man, she would be the same as the people who killed her little brother. She really would be a monster.
In no way was the man before her innocent like Kuzon had been, but once the parallel was drawn, Li couldn't dismiss it. Her mind started to find tiny details in the man's features that reminded her of Kuzon—the shape of his eyes, the way his chest heaved, how there was a chip on one of his teeth. She couldn't kill this man. It was suddenly impossible for her. No matter how different he was from Kuzon, Li felt like she was looking at her brother.
Without another word, Li turned away and left.
Now she was making her way down the hallway, trying to find a way out. She passed a window, and looked out. Men in green camouflage uniforms, with dark vests covered in pockets, were streaming into the compound. A small group detached from the main unit and made for the building Li was in: the rest headed for the other building, where Li had been taken to meet the old man with scary eyes. The men in the other building were putting up plenty of resistance, spraying bullets from the second-floor windows.
Li leaned forward, trying to see where the group heading towards her building would enter at. The window was shut, limiting her range of vision. She pushed on the window. It was stuck fast. That idea went up in flames. Maybe she could find her way to them from a lower floor?
All right, now she was looking for stairs. Li turned around, scanning the hallway for anything that looked like a stairwell. She saw nothing but doors. There was another hallway intersecting this one partway down: she could check down that way. If that failed, she would start looking behind doors.
Confident in her plan, however little time she had spent thinking it up, Li began to limp forward. She soon realized the flaw in her idea when her leg started to burn. Not literally burn, mind you, but it hurt worse than when she was first shot, or when the doctor took the bullet out.
"Aah!" Li slumped against the wall, hands going to her leg. They came away red and wet. She had reopened the wound. A dark stain was spreading over her jeans.
Bleeding out wouldn't be very helpful. There were men coming into the building, presumably men there to rescue her—Li didn't want to think about what might happen if they weren't there to rescue her. They would have medical supplies. But how long would it take them to get to Li? At least one floor was below her, and that needed to be secure before they would move up. Securing a floor might take too long.
Oh, dear spirits. Li tried not to think too much about what she was going to do. With a steady inhalation and exhalation, she focused on the warmth of her body. It burned hot and fierce within her, fueled by the warmth of the sun. She needed perfect control for this. No immense blazes…just a small flame, as hot as she could make it. Focus on the fire…
Heat flowed down Li's arm and into her hand. The heat flicked out into flames, dancing around her fingers and swirling over her palm. Li curled her fingers in one by one until only the index finger was still extended. She sent all the fire to the tip of her finger, keeping a tight reign over it. No sudden flares occurred. That was good.
Exerting all her focus on the flame, Li compressed it into a smaller area. The red flames turned orange, then yellow. A few flickers of blue licked the very middle. A headache started in Li's mind as she kept the flame at the maximum temperature possible. Keeping her focus on the flame, she lowered her finger towards her bleeding wound.
Searing your own flesh to cauterize a wound is not pleasant. Li got the idea from stories the guards and soldiers back home told about battles. They always emphasized that it hurt like nothing ever did: Li finally realized why that was. She clenched her teeth against the urge to scream. On the end of her finger, the flame wavered back to orange briefly. With gargantuan effort, Li returned it to yellow and kept it burning.
Several times her jeans started to burn, but each time Li extinguished the flames. At last she was finished, and she let the fire dissipate into nothing. Her lungs heaved to suck in air. The headache was pounding against the back of her head. She would have killed for a drink of water: making her flames yellow-and-blue hot always dehydrated Li.
Her eyelids fluttered downwards several times. She was tired on top of everything else. Why wouldn't she be? It had been a while since she last slept, and she couldn't quite remember when she'd eaten. Maybe the men here to rescue her would have some food. That would be wonderful. Even America's disgusting burgers from McDonald's would taste delicious. And some fries, and a soda…the one thing from McDonald's she liked was the soda. All sugary and bubbly and intoxicating…yum.
Thoughts of food could wait, though. First she had to escape. Li didn't know if her leg would bear her weight still, and wasn't willing to risk it, so she found herself crawling down the hallway. The blow to her pride was nothing if she could get out.
After five minutes of dragging herself down the hallway, she heard the tramp of boots from up ahead. Her rescuers! They were here! Relief swept over Li. She struggled upright, a delighted grin spreading over her face, and debated what to say to them. It had to be witty, and funny…"What took you so long?" No, that might not go over so well with people she didn't know. How about…
The men rounded the corner, and Li's stomach sank. It was three of her captors. When they saw her alive they stopped and stared. One pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number, then spoke to the person on the other end. Realizing these men might try to kill her as well, Li began to scoot backwards. She didn't think to Firebend—she was too afraid. All she wanted was to get away from them.
Li's hand slipped, and she fell backwards. The man on the phone finished his conversation and closed the phone, then walked over to Li. He towered above her, larger than life, looking down with cruel eyes. "Stand up," he commanded.
"C-can't," Li stuttered. "My, my leg…" Her throat closed off as fear coursed through her. The blood in her veins felt like ice. She couldn't take her eyes off the man above her.
He grunted, and reached down. Li shrank back. His hands closed on her arms in a vice grip, and he hauled her upright. Li's weight fell on her bad leg for a brief second. Bolts of pain shot out from the wound. "Ah!"
Seeing Li was too hurt to walk, the man bent and slung her over his shoulder. Li immediately went limp, hoping not to jar her leg or wound it further. The man barked an order to his companions and they jogged to the stairs, at the end of the intersecting hallway. Shouts drifted to them from the first floor, but the man paid the noise no heed as they ran downstairs. A door outside was at the base of the stairs. It was slightly ajar: the man with Li over his shoulder kicked it open and rushed out.
Outside, the heat hit like a hammer. Li was sweating in seconds. She would need a bath once she was rescued, after food and water. It had been days, maybe a couple of weeks, since Li's last bath. The possibility that she might not be rescued was rejected as soon as she thought it, and any subsequent wonderings were banished to the far reaches of her mind. It was too frightening to think of anything else.
Some of the men attacking the compound caught sight of Li and her captors. One man tried to give chase, but a bullet to the leg downed him. He clutched his leg as he fell, shouting to his fellows and pointing. The man carrying Li broke into a sprint, heading for the building where Li had met the old man with the dark eyes. An involuntary shudder wracked Li's body as she recalled those eyes.
Tendrils of despair reached into Li's mind. She was being taken to the man with the dark eyes. He was going to kill her. These men were carrying her to her death.
Tears welled up in Li's eyes. She…she didn't want to die.
Fire Nation and United Republic sat in the garden of United Republic's house. A small table with a teapot and two teacups had been placed between their chairs. The sky above was getting dark as the sun of Wanban dipped towards the west. Air Temple Island had decided to meditate in his room before bed: Fire Nation would bet good money the door was locked.
A companionable silence had settled between Fire Nation and his daughter. The tea was delicious. Bugs darted amongst the plants of the garden, and the aroma of the flowers filled the air. Fire Nation leaned back in his chair, content to simply enjoy the moment. He hadn't been able to enjoy a moment for days, not since his decision to return to the mortal world.
There was a time when relaxing and enjoying himself was all he did. Memories of his days as a sage floated through Fire Nation's mind, and flickers of images from before then…of the times with his mother. He had so few memories of those days left, so few memories of his mother, Sun Warriors. She was strong and beautiful in his first memory. Young, filled with life, carrying her young son on her back as she hunted in the thick jungles—that was how Fire Nation liked to think of his mother. Not as the old, arthritic woman she became as the Fire Nation grew.
Lost in memories of his mother, Fire Nation didn't hear his daughter the first time she spoke. United Republic shook his arm, breaking his reverie, and he sat upright with a start. "What?"
"I asked, what do you plan to do when we return to the human world?" United Republic repeated.
"Go to our people," Fire Nation replied. "What else?"
"That sounds risky, Father." United Republic frowned. She lifted her teacup to her lips for a drink, and set it down carefully. "What will you do if our people don't recognize us?"
"They'll recognize us," Fire Nation said firmly. "You were still a child when we left the mortal realm, so I don't expect you to know this, but our citizens naturally trust us. Some part of them recognizes us for what we are and knows we can be trusted. Convincing them of what we are will be the challenge. After so long an absence, nobody will remember our kind's existence."
"Then how do we convince them?"
"By directing them to certain documents." Fire Nation smiled. "Many of my Fire Lords had their final words written down and placed in their tombs. I wrote most of those scrolls. Several contained detailed instructions from the Fire Lord to his heir on how to handle me. The contents of those scrolls should convince the skeptics."
"I see." United Republic hesitated. "Father…why do you want to return?"
Fire Nation's eyebrows raised. "Homesickness, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
"Well…it's just…" United Republic glanced at her feet. "I have to wonder…is it because of the Princess?"
"You mean the Fire Lord," Fire Nation corrected. "Even without a coronation, she is my rightful ruler. Use her proper title."
"Fine. Is it because of the Fire Lord?" United Nation's voice took a derisive edge. Fire Nation felt the corners of his mouth tug downwards. He schooled his expression into neutrality.
"And why would you think that?"
"She's injured, near death, at the North Pole," United Nations answered. "Do you think you can save her somehow? Are you planning to go haring off after her soul in the Spirit World?"
"Of course not," Fire Nation dismissed the thought. "Her bodyguard, the Avatar, and the Moon Spirit have gone to retrieve Li's soul." Saying her name made Fire Nation's heart thump. His mind's eye saw a smiling woman with long brown hair. "I only intend to be ready to greet her when she returns."
"Yeah. Sure."
His daughter's tone was beginning to annoy him. "And you don't believe me?" Fire Nation asked sharply. United Republic kept her gaze fixed on the ground. "My-Duyen. I asked you a question."
"Dad…" United Republic bit her lip. "You really like the Princess—I mean, the Fire Lord. Don't you?"
"Of course I do." The question bewildered Fire Nation. Why would he not like his ruler? Was his daughter hinting at something else? Should he come out and lay bare his feelings for the Fire Lord? Fire Nation never enjoyed talking about how he felt, and often dismissed it as a waste of time, but if his daughter wanted him to…
"She's a human," United Republic's eyes slid sideways to look at her father, then quickly returned to the ground.
"Your point?"
"My point is…she's only human," United Republic closed her eyes. "In sixty or eighty years, she'll be dead. I just don't want you to get attached to her and feel the pain of losing her."
Fire Nation finally understood his daughter's concern. She was worried that the death of his Fire Lord would destroy Fire Nation. A lighty, bubbly sensation welled up in Fire Nation's chest and spilled out of his mouth as laughter.
"I've loved and lost many Fire Lords before," he informed his daughter. "The pain of losing them is still fresh to me. But over the years, I have come to regard that pain as a blessing. It makes sure I never forget the humans I have cared for and lost." United Republic looked unconvinced. Lowering his voice, Fire Nation reached over and stroked his daughter's hair. "When the Fire Lord dies, I will be hurt. But before she dies, I intend to spend however long we have serving her with all my being. By doing so, I will have memories of joy and laughter to balance out the pain of loss."
"Still…" United Republic's eyes opened. Her gaze was distant, focused on nothing. "We will live forever, or close enough to forever that it feels like it. No matter how few humans we become close to, there are so many funerals in our futures."
"It will be worth it, my dear," Fire Nation assured his daughter. "Love your people and cherish your times with them, and it will be worth it."
