It is mid-spring—one season away from the coming of the second Fire Nation comet. I do not look forward to the apocalypse, but it is better to be in the path of the devil than at his side. I do not miss the queen's treatment, having taken on the responsibilities of a fisherwoman. The one thing I miss about being a queen, however, is the privilege of having hair. The servants washed it, combed it, and styled it to my liking long ago. I find it easier now to rinse my bald scalp than attempt to comb my tangles on my own.
The arrow is still there, but I wear a hat.
One of my old servants—Usagi—has come to stay with me. She said I touched her in such a way that she converted to the Air Nomad's way of life. I greeted her with a strong hug. She would not shave her head, but the feeling is still there. She was not one of my hair servants, but I love her all the same.
Murmurs of the Avatar returning have come and go, but I myself know it is not true. The last Avatar was an Airbender named Aang. He disappeared when he was twelve. There has been no replacement—no son or daughter of the Earth Kingdom who shows traces of powers far beyond what is natural and normal. As far as I know, the world is doomed.
It has been three full years since I escaped from that ship. The escape still haunts my dreams, particularly those of late. I tell Usagi of these dreams, but she has no idea of the pain I had to bear. She is young, about as old as Zuko now, with hair like straw piled into buns on the top of her head, letting the rest of it flow freely in pigtails to her rear. Her eyes are crystal blue, but when she is sad they seem to darken. She, not that traitor Minako, should have loved Zuko. He needs somebody like her now.
I took a lifeboat with me and washed up on the Earth Kingdom's shore, wondering if the Fire Nation noticed. What I dislike most, however, are those dreams of Iroh telling Zuko his mother died. They are the same each time I have them. Zuko, confused at first, calls my name. Iroh is beside him, touching his shoulder. I do not hear his voice, but Zuko's face contorts in such a way there is no doubt Iroh has told him. He bends over and his shoulders shake violently. I hear his cries of "Momma." I am there, but I cannot move.
Those nights have increasingly occurred. I try to ignore them, but guilt chews a hole in my chest. Sometimes I cannot breathe. I remind myself repeatedly that I would not be alive if I had not escaped. Zuko would still feel the same way if the Fire Nation executed me. Perhaps he would try something stupid, like hostile takeover. I shake my head. This is the lesser of two evils.
As I walk to get water from the spring that trickles next to my hut, I notice a little boy, bedecked in blue and brown, walking slowly towards my home, head down. He scratches furiously at his head, the brown hair tousled and messy.
He cannot be more than thirteen years old, but I still feel that this young man wants to stay the night. "Good Morning!" I yell, putting down my bucket and walking out to meet him. As I get closer, I see he smiles at my introduction, but his eyes are sad.
"Hello." His voice is scratchy and worn, as if he had been sobbing minutes before. He rubs his puffy eyes and looks up at me. "Hey, lady, do you think I can stay at your house for a while?"
He is wearing clothes that are too big for him, and clearly not from his ethnicity. He wears the bluish tunic of Waterbenders, complete with the sharp, metal boomerang hanging limply from the baldric slung across his shoulders. Before I answer, I glance at something on his head, hidden by his hair. I realize what it is and I smile. "Of course." I say, patting his shoulder.
He reaches into his pocket—for money, I presume—but I hold both my hands out. "Here." He says. His voice as not yet changed, but I can see the weariness of an old man resting on his face, "Take it. I need to give you something."
"Oh, no." I am still smiling, regardless of his lackluster offer. "All I require of you is that you tell me your name."
"Kuzon." He replies flatly. "My name is Kuzon."
"That's a nice name." I say, stroking his hair. He does not mind. "Very popular in the Fire Nation. Are you from there, child?"
"No." he says, almost defensively. I see his lips are taut across his teeth. "I'm only a traveler. Nothing else."
I murmur something, but he does not hear me. I call for Usagi. She comes out, holding a basket of leeks and onions. "Kuzon? This is Usagi." I say, taking the basket form her. They are roughly the same height, Usagi's dainty chin clipping the top of Kuzon's head.
"Hello, visitor!" Usagi's voice is high and girlish, perfect for someone her age. "Can I get you something to eat? An apple, maybe?" she gestures to the trees that shade my home. Kuzon smiles.
"No thank you. I think I need to sleep, if that's okay." Kuzon rubs his eyes, but something tells me it is not from tiredness. "I've had a long day."
"Alright." I say, my eyes softening.
Usagi takes him inside. Because my house is more of a sheet on sticks,(a far cry from the lavish palaces of my former home), I can see him lay down on my sofa. Usagi takes a furry blanket and lays it over his shoulders. She pets his head, smoothes his hair back. I see her stiffen and clap her hand over her mouth. Kuzon doesn't notice. He was snoring as soon as he lay down.
Usagi lopes up to me, eyes wide and shining. "Lady Akito! That boy is the Avatar!" She bounces on the balls of her feet.
I smile weakly. "I know." I say demurely. Usagi sees there is no hope in my eyes. Eyes darkening, she caresses my shoulder with a dainty hand.
"There is still hope." She says, a bit too worldly for my comfort, "As long as it lives."