Just as a general reminder, I changed an important part of the first episode, so if you're reading this, please go back and re-read. Just…basically forget about the original first chapter, because it will make little sense later on if you go by the original. I REPEAT: GO RE-READ EPISODE ONE. I cannot stress this enough! But anyway, now that I'm done with that…
Sorry it took so long for these newest episodes to come up. I was having trouble coming up with any ideas, and then I thought about something I had planned for a later chapter, and decided to foreshadow it there. It also sets the stage for the one quite nicely, so I'm rather happy with it.
This is a tale of honor, courage, and loyalty -the things that moved nations- where love falls back and the warrior codes of the time take the stage. More than one hundred years after the Fire Nation went to war against the Middle Kingdom and the other nations, and just more than two after the honorable Prince Zuko was exiled, a woman of honor -driven by honor, with honor as the promised reward- and rank searches the world over for the one thing that can restore her land to what it is meant to be.
End with Honor
4. Razor Sharp, Paper Thin
"There is a line you must never cross, Ming-Na." In her mind, she had gone back in time to her first lesson with her father. Her first class in kenjutsu, or, sword arts as some called it. "A line no wider than a sheet of paper, but sharper than the Fire Lord's sword. Lesson one: never, ever cross the line from warrior into animal."
Forgive me father, Ming-Na thought. I have crossed that line, and lost my honor blade in the process. Sitting way back in the saddle of Appa, she watched the red- and pink-tinged clouds pass beneath her. It had been almost a full day after her defeat by Wei-Fei -and she was not talking about the fight- yet she still couldn't get his words, and her own actions, out of her mind. And, to add to the disgrace, he had broken their deal, saying 'the Earth Kingdom shall not be dishonored by one so weak'. So apparently, she wasn't even good enough to be held by the barbarians.
Again her mind drifted back to that lesson. The lesson that had helped, in great part, to shape her into what she had been. "A warrior fights with honor and courage, but more than that, a warrior has control over herself. No matter how bad a situation gets, no matter what your enemy says, no matter how close to death you are, you must not lose control."
I'm not worthy of who I am… Ming-Na thought. I have now failed both sides of my family. If I were back home, I would be cast out in disgrace in an instant. But I'm not home…and it's worse knowing that, because I can't keep going knowing, if I were at home, these events would have at least been acknowledged--even if dishonorably. But here, they don't care. They will never understand me…no one will. I'm from the Fire Nation. I was the Hope of the Future. But now I am nothing, not even a disgraced princess.
"Hey," Katara said, looking at Ming-Na with concern writ in her features. "You haven't talked since yesterday." It had been Katara who had found her, alone in the dark alley, as the night began to fall. It had been Katara who had helped her back to their camp, and it had been Katara who had driven off the boys' questions. Ming-Na would've been thankful to the Water Tribe girl, if not for the fact that it had been Katara who had questioned her all through the following day.
"You don't eat--you barely sleep!" Sokka chimed in. "What happened back there!"
But Ming-Na wasn't listening to the siblings. She was thinking about all that had happened in her life. First, she had failed her mother: as princess of the Fire Nation, she had obligations of her rank to fulfill. And while it may have involved senseless rules of etiquette and a china-doll-like purpose, it had been her birthright. But more than that--it had been her first and foremost duty. But she ran away from it to live as a warrior in the hopes of helping Zuko. But, just two years after this new life began, she failed at that too. She was neither strong enough nor brave enough to live as she had been expected to. Hyo-Lee would hate her for being too weak to even live the luxury life of a princess, and her father Jin would be dishonored by her weakness as a warrior.
So what's the point…? She thought dejectedly. Why should I even bother with the Avatar? Her eyes came to rest on Aang. She had spent two horrible, miserable, homesick years looking for him--Zuko needed him; the whole Fire Nation needed him. But now she thought that maybe she just wasn't cut out to capture him. Maybe all she was good for was wasting space. Maybe I should just tell them who I am…they'll figure it out eventually.
But she was spared the choice by Aang's voice saying: "We're sleeping down here tonight!" He pointed to a small island out of the way; a place surrounded by rocks that rose out of the waters around the small beach to at least fifteen feet in height. There was no way Zuko's ship could land there. Which was precisely Aang's point in choosing this place.
"Good choice." Sokka stated. "We'll be out of reach of Zuko and what other Fire Nation ships are in the area.
But all Ming-Na could think was A quiet place to end… Thought without her honor blade, it would not be a true, honorable death. It would just be an empty act, proving once and for all that she was a dishonor to her land; that she didn't belong. So as princess of the Fire Nation, she must suffer the pain in silence, knowing she would never again be welcome among her people.
As they settled down on the compact earth of the island ground, the two siblings, followed by Aang, slid off Appa. Ming-Na, however, stayed stationary.
"Coming?" Aang asked, looking up at her with those disgustingly innocent eyes of his. How could someone whose life would very soon become a battle for the lives of everyone he loves still have such child-like eyes? At the age of eleven, Ming-Na had lost those eyes.
Bitter jealousy once more filled the young princess. Hate of the Avatar broiled up inside her quicker than she thought possible. How she hated him, and everything he stood for. She knew once more that no matter what the personal cost, the Avatar must be destroyed. All from looking into the eyes of a twelve-year-old boy who still had the courage to live his life as best he could.
Sitting around a dying fire late at night, Ming-Na's mind sifted through memories of her past. Stories she had been told at one time or another, lullabies sung to her sleeping form in the obsidian-encrusted cradle of her youth, cries of battle as one by one, the men she loved were torn away from her by war and exile. Her father; Zuko. Always Zuko.
No matter where she went, he was with her. He had been there when she had broken her right arm, he had been there when she had been wracked by nightmares, he had been there when she learned to firebend; he had been there in her triumphs, he had been there when she felt disgraced. He had felt the heat of the sun as she stumbled through deserts, he had felt the frigid cold of the snow as she staggered amongst the poles, he had been there with her through the rains and the winds and even the calm, peaceful moments of life as an exiled princess.
He was with her in every waking moment: his hands guided her thrusts and parries in battle, his heart rejoiced with her's in the thrill of battle. He sweated with her through three hours of training every day; he knew the sting of a wound from the Rensha, and he knew the relief and laughter that comes after successfully executing all sixty-eight patterns of blade swings in the Ku maneuver.
He was with her when she slept: he knew the absolute loneliness that comes after dreaming about the best parts of home and then waking up in the middle of nowhere; he knew the feelings of helplessness that accompany dreams of searching and questing for unknown things; he knew the heat of the flames in her Fire Dreams. He knew exquisite beauty could come to one while sleeping and, that while tears might've rain down your face, you may not remember the feeling the next moment when you awake. He knew that portentous dreams never come when you need them. He knew that her dreams never mattered anyway.
He screamed along side her when Sokka saw her naked. He cried with her when she realized –so many times- what her world had come to. He laughed at the stupidity of the siblings' actions, and hated that the Avatar still could see the good in people--just like she laughed and hated them. He felt her weakness when Wei-Fei called her dishonorable, he felt her pain when her honor blade had broken, he felt her shame as to what she had become. Her felt her love: love for her family, love for her Nation, love for him.
He knew that she could sense him beside her right now.
And somehow, it made her even more lonely. With the night's noises at a comfortable distance and the sounds of sleep her five companions made strangely muted, she might've been all alone on a new world. The first and only person in her plane of existence where the people she had met in her lifetime were nothing more than ghosts or figments. She was the only one who could see the sky.
As she thought this, she looked up, expecting to be greeted at once by the moon. But there was no moon, nor stars. The night was clouded, and this made her sad. Now her world had a cap over it. She was stuck in a bottle in her world, and would soon be put on display.
"Princess…" a small voice said. Ming-Na whirled around, first looking at the intruder, but then –before she could even see their face- she snapped back to check that no one had heard her title.
"Come with me." she snapped, grabbing the person by the wrist and pulling her off, away from the light.
Faced with the girl who stood before her now, Ming-Na chided herself for being so jumpy. It was just a little girl, though a dirty and disheveled girl at that. She could be no older than twelve, this girl. Her hair was a mass of tangles and rat's nests, her teal eyes ringed by dark circles below them and bags above them. Her brown clothes were thread-bare and more dirt that cloth. The hem of her shirt was frayed far beyond repair, and her breeches –yes, breeches- were torn at the knees. She wore no shoes.
Yet she still managed to look innocent and hopeful. Despite the wear on her, despite what her clothes suggested she had had to live through, she still looked like the kind of girl who could laugh at the slightest joke and smile wide at the nod of a passerby. She reminded Ming-Na a lot of Aang.
"What's your name, Es'sa?" she asked somewhat kindly, even thought she tried not to. 'Es'sa' was a not-unkind way of referring to a younger girl in a big-sisterly way. Literally it meant 'one who means much to a few', and this was the first time Ming-Na had used it.
"Sying." The girl said simply. It meant 'star' in Chinese--and the name suited her. She was as pure and shining as a star. But how did this girl know of her rank…Ming-Na was as out of her own element as it could get, not to mention with cut hair and warrior's clothes. Well, the only way to know was to ask. So she did.
"Sying, how do you know who I am? I don't even think my own mother would recognize me…"
She stared up at me with innocent eyes, and said, as honest as Chih-Lo, the Goddess of Truth, "I knew it by a lot of things. You carry yourself like a princess. Noble, regal, so sure of yourself. And also, I could tell when I saw you looking up at the sky. You reminded me of Ming-Huo, the way you looked up at the sky just then. You were thinking about him, weren't you, Princess Mingeline?"
Ming-Huo was a maiden out of my favorite story when I was little. Ming-Na thought. In fact, there had been a rumor that she had been named, partly, in her honor. Ming-Huo meant 'beautiful fire', and it fit both the first and second incarnation of the name. She could just see her father bending low over her and saying 'In behalf of my parentage, I name this girl Ming.'
It was a custom among the Fire Nation that when a child was given two names, the father chose the first half and the mother the second. Few girls –or boys- ever got two names anymore, but the practice had been common in her parents' time.
But her namesake did not have such a happy story. Ming-Huo had been born during a troubled time, where Firebender fought Firebender, and the strongest nation of all lay divided. She was a beautiful girl, with hair deeper than the darkest shadows and eyes golden and shining with all the good things in the world. Her skin was lily-white, and her lips were red as blood. She was the perfect girl, who not only looked beautiful, but was graceful, polite, and kind to everyone. Everyone who knew her loved her, and though her little village was out of the way, it had more joy and love in it than the brightest palace.
One time, when Ming-Huo was sixteen, she was bathing in a little spring just outside of her home, when a young man happened upon her. She turned slowly around to face him, her long hair hiding any indiscretions. The young man, being a gentleman, quickly averted his eyes, but did not leave.
"How did you come here?" she asked when she had gotten dresses in her blood-red kimono. The man wore the armor of the Quon family, though he was far from his lord. He did not have any wounds, so she did not think it could be because of a battle.
"I was…exiled…by my lord, milady…?"
"My name is Ming-Huo, noble sir." She looked up into his eyes and then at him in general. He was tall, with a lean but strong build. His hair was black, but not held up in a topknot like the other warriors' had been: it was hanging loose to just past his shoulders. His eyes were a dull gold, much like her's but darkened by loss and sorrow. He could not be but two years older than her.
"And I am Xia-Yu."
Ming-Huo sheltered him in her home, cared for him, and helped him forget about his troubled times. In time, they fell in love, and no couple was happier. The years passed, and Ming-Huo and her now-husband Xia-Yu never lacked for anything. Then, five years after they had met, a messenger arrived from the Quon family with the news that Xia-Yu was no longer exiled, and could return home.
Ming-Huo was happy for her husband. "You finally have regained your honor!" she cried, and leapt into his arms. But her husband was not happy.
"You do not know the lord of the Quon like I do, love. He is a ruthless man, and will only want me back to fight and murder for him. I will not go."
Ming-Huo agreed, and the two fled their little town. They lived on the run, moving from place to place, but both knew it was for the best. Then, one day in a small city on the eastern edge of the Fire Nation, a high-ranking warrior from the Quon found them. He forced Xia-Yu to go back to his former lord, leaving the heartbroken Ming-Huo in tears.
For six months, Ming-Huo stayed in her room, not sleeping, barely eating. She had given up all hope. Surely Xia-Yu must have been executed for his 'treachery', and now she was all alone. So she gave up all hope, and her eyes turned from bright and hopeful to dark and dead as she watched the skies for signs of his soul.
Xia-Yu, however, was not dead. While he had been severely punished for running, he had lived through it, and now carried out his missions quickly and effectively, all for the hope that the sooner he did his harsh duty, the sooner he could reunite with his long-lost love.
So six months passed this way, until the Quon leader grew bored of his new warrior. It was tiring to have Xia-Yu always doing what he was told--following his leader's commands to the letter. The Quon wanted a new form of entertainment, and that meant blood and death. So he commissioned Xia-Yu to the front line of the forty-first division of troops: the new, inexperienced, recruits. Then he sent Xia-Yu and his troops to fight against the Chu-Jung leader's best army. The Chu-Jung were the best bunch of Firebenders, trained –as the legend went- to fight even after death. So Xia-Yu went marching to his death and knowing it, every step of the way. His final thoughts rested with Ming-Huo, knowing that he would never hold her in his arms again, never say 'I love you', never again know in his heart that he was the luckiest man on earth. And just as the Quon's leader knew, Xia-Yu and his men all died--bloodily, gruesomely, horribly died. And then a letter was sent to his wife, as custom demanded it.
Ming-Huo received the letter. Just as she had known, her beloved husband had died in his service. And just as he had known, she couldn't live knowing she would never see him again. She walked out to the spring where they had first met, and, kneeling at the water's edge, she began to stoke her internal flames.
As she felt her skin heat up to the temperature of a high fever, she remembered how he would come home after hunting for food, bringing –no matter if he had food or not- a bouquet of Fire Lilies for her to wear in her hair.
As the sweat began to drip off her like rain, she smiled as she saw in her mind's eye the way he always found time in their day for the two of them to watch the sunset together, with her body in his strong arms and her head resting against his chest.
Once the steam began to rise, she closed her eyes and breathed in his imaginary scent--of charcoal, cinnamon, rosemary, and –strangely enough- of summer roses.
As the flesh on her arms and legs began to peel apart; as blood welled from the breaks, her fading consciousness felt him once again beside her, in her, all around her. He was brushing away her tears and kissing her hair and whispering in her ear.
As her mind closed off from the pain of a million slashes and burns, while the flames on her and around her licked sensuously at her body, his voice was singing the lullaby he sang to her after they first made love.
And as she died, she opened her eyes, and saw him walking toward her, transparent, with his hand extending to hers. She took it, and stepped out of her now-ruined body, and the two ascended past the stars, and into the great Ring of Fire that surrounded their world.
When Ming-Huo's mother found the body of her child beside the spring with a serene expression and a smile of transcendent bliss on her face, she whispered the old saying that had been passed on from parent to child across the entire Fire Nation: "She died by fire, so her soul is cleansed of evil."
As Ming-Na finished retelling the story in her head, the silence of their little patch of forest fell upon her ears. It was heavy, oppressive; dangerous. Ming-Na knew that she must do something to fill the silence--to beat it back down to a silent whisper in the back or their minds.
"Sying…" she said in a strange voice. It was…bizarre, perhaps? Yes, it was bizarre that here and now, in the presence of a very dirty, very innocent girl, that she felt the silence so heavily. She had sat in silence as the night went on for two years, and yet, only now did it bother her.
Maybe, she thought, it's because for these last nights I've had company… Company; it was a strange word to hear from Ming-Na, who had liked being alone better than many things in recent years. Yet she had gotten used to Sokka's snores; Katara's quiet breathing; Aang's mumbling in his sleep. The nightly noises of three who, even while on a dangerous quest besotted with enemies, could enjoy sleep as casually as if they were at home.
And for once, that didn't make her angry. Sleep--she had never had the pleasure of enjoying sleep. From the time she was very young, she never had the luxury of a peaceful sleep. As princess of the Fire Nation, as the Hope of the Future, she was a valuable asset to her family alive, and an even more valuable asset to her enemies dead. But she did not begrudge her companions, if only because once her plan succeeded, they would never sleep peacefully again.
Sying looked up at her. "Yes, Your Highness?" Ming-Na had forgotten she had spoken the younger girl's name, much less without a reason.
"I would like some company," Ming-Na said in her most regal voice. She gestured to a rock overlooking a river. "Come, sit with me. Our talk will drive away my loneliness."
Sying bowed her head, and followed her princess toward the aforementioned rock. They sat, and Ming-Na tilted her head up to the sky. The clouds had finally parted, and their moon shone through, illuminating their place with an unearthly light. It was one day until full, and a buttery yellow. "I love a yellow moon." The young princess said cryptically. "It means a battle is coming…"
Sying stared up at Ming-Na, a look of confusion in her eyes. "Why…does that please you, princess…?" She asked in confusion. It was not like a princess –of any sort- to enjoy battle, or the coming thereof. "Why does battle please you…?"
Ming-Na looked at her young companion. "Sying," she asked gently. "What is your dream; your greatest dream? The dream you want so bad to come true that it keeps you up at night; that dream that, no matter what is going on in your world, you still put foremost in your thoughts?"
Sying too gazed up at the moon, before she answered. The silence lengthened, and once more Ming-Na felt the feverish desire to beat it back. But she waited for her young companion to speak. It was the polite thing to do, after all. And to this girl she was still Princess Mingeline-Nanamye Hinokenna de Fyre, so she must act the part, even if she didn't feel it.
Finally, Sying spoke, and her voice was sweet and soft. "My dream…?" But she did not wait for Ming-Na's confirmation, choosing rather to take a deep breath and say in a very uncharacteristic tone –rather a cross between business-like and insecure- "My dream…is for my land to…belong--finally, belong."
This startled Ming-Na a little. The Fire Nation would soon be at the head of a great empire, it would not need to "belong". It would rule, not conform. But she did not let this show, instead she simply stated, "Then you must know what it is like, no matter how uncharacteristic; no matter how shocking, to need that dream to be real. That, is why I look to the moon, and wait for the battle it foretells to occur."
There was silence now, but Ming-Na did not feel the need to fill it. It no longer ate her up inside, clawing in her chest, but rather sat beside her and held her. There were words she wanted to say now, but she could not say them. There would be a time for those words to be said, but not now. Now, she filled the silence with more silence, and that did not bother her. Her silence allowed her mission to live, and what did fill the void were the imagined words and scenes that would occur for real only after those words were said. So she waited, knowing one could not exist without the other, yet while neither lived, Ming-Na could rest in peace.
They sat there in silence, looking up at the moon, wandering in their own thoughts, until Sying spoke up. Her voice was hesitant, as if she didn't want to say what she was about to, but knew she needed to anyway. "You're out to capture him, right Princess?" Ming-Na froze. "That's why you're out here, like this, right?" Ming-Na slowly turned to face her companion. "That's why you're so far from…our Prince…?"
"I…just want to help…" Ming-Na said, voice glistening with tears, even though her eyes were dry. "I don't want the glory…the praise…I have enough of that already…" She looked away from Sying, looking westward, toward her home. "All I did…I did for it…for him…"
Sying looked shocked at first, but then placed a comforting hand on Ming-Na's shoulder, drawing the older girl close into a heart-felt embrace. "I know…we all love our Nation…we would do anything for it. And for you…you have someone who you love, and, if I'm not horribly mistaken, who loves you back. It must've hurt, tearing yourself away from all that's dear, just for them. Our Nation, and our Prince…"
"Yes…" Ming-Na sighed, and leaned into the embrace, letting her head rest on Sying's shoulder, happy that she had found someone out here, in the wild lands where she thought no comfort could reach her, who could hold her and chase away her inner demons. She could finally act her age again, knowing in her entirety that the life of a killer -warrior, she corrected herself- was no way for any girl of fourteen to exist. She needed peace, and even while she knew that in a few hours' time she would have to give it up, she had found it. Wrapped tightly in the arms of a girl who, alone of all who knew the princess, understood the need that drove Ming-Na so desperately toward danger, and most certainly death, Mingeline-Nanamye Hinokenna de Fyre -princess of the Fire Nation, the Hope of the Future- found peace, at last.
They talked then, of any- and everything that their minds thought of. Ming-Na told Sying of her hatred of a heartless mother and love for an exiled father; how she had been trained in secret in the art of war and loved it; how she had finally found friends in her four handmaidens; and, last and longest of all, of the love she felt for Zuko, and how close they had come to a happy ending.
Sying told Ming-Na of how her little village in the Fire Nation had fallen on hard times, and how she sought to right it; of her caring family who had, nevertheless, been of little help; and how, at long last, she knew that it was not for her to solve.
After this, there was once more a lull in conversation. It reminded Ming-Na of waves on an ocean's shore, these breaks in speech. One voice would begin, and like a crystal blue breaker, it would wash through the night's silence, until it receded and the speaker was silent. Then the other girl would talk, her words rolling out into the night like a wave to the shore. This silence came slowly, as talk gradually died out, and it lasted longest of all.
In that silence, a question formed in Ming-Na's mind. Exactly how did a Fire Nation girl get so far out here. And why? She was positively filthy, and yet so…innocent. She must have done it on her own free will. But why…? Ming-Na had told Sying her story, and she expected the same thing in return. Yet the young girl had made nothing but vague comments about the actual events in her past, and only when absolutely necessary; only now, however, did it strike Ming-Na as odd.
Fool! She chided herself. Had she become so relieved to be welcomed that she had forgotten her caution. Was she growing soft? Was she becoming…normal? She would not allow it. She would make up for her previous foolishness by finding out the truth about this girl. But she still needed to be cautious. She would not put it past her mother to use a child to drag her daughter home.
"I have told you of my past, present, and very possible future, Es'sa." She said conversationally, so as not to frighten Sying. Maybe this girl had a good, honorable reason to be out here alone. "Now, would you care to do the same?"
Sying dispelled all notion of a noble reason by violently shaking her head 'no'. Never trust a child to be subtle, mother. Ming-Na thought wickedly. Once she stopped trying –it seemed to Ming-Na- to detach her head from her shoulders, Sying looked up at her senior with wide, beseeching eyes.
"I just can't!" She said, trying to catch her princess's eye; to plead with her for mercy. "My parents told me to never tell anyone!"
So not my mother then. Ming-Na thought. Who else, though, would use a child for an unspeakable –literally- purpose? "So that includes your princess now, does it?" she snapped. This was tiring. Adults knew when to give it up. But not children, and of all her luck she was dealing with a very innocent child. "It there's anyone at all who deserves to know, it's me!"
This left Sying thoughtful, but after a span of only a few minutes, she opened her mouth to speak. "Please, Highness, do not think ill of me. I could not choose my birthright, like many others."
Ming-Na nodded, but with no real conviction. If this girl was a traitor, then she would deal with her herself. But the young princess stayed silent, and let the girl tell her tale.
Sying began, first looking down at the dark earth, and then slowly reaching her gaze up to let it rest in Ming-Na's eyes. "Before I tell you anything more, I must let you know that, if nothing else, I grew up loved, Lady."
Why does it sound like an excuse…? Ming-Na thought.
"I was born in autumn, with the trees like fires themselves there to greet me. But despite the display of red-and-gold beauty I saw in my first few months, I knew little of those colors. My home -and the places all around it- lie in exile. So then, so now.
"But I lived in peace, and was happy for it. I may not have the red silk kimono or the steel gardens that you did, but I was loved and it was all I cared about. My food may have been plain, and my house quaint, but I had joy. We were poor, but still lived like kings."
This girl… Ming-Na mused as Sying spoke on, is more grown up than I ever thought. Innocent, yes. But not naïve. It was in the way she spoke. Her words were so elegant and poised that they might've come out of the lips of a princess. A better princess than I, though. She was so exquisite, wrapped in her memories, that one could see that loneliness had not touched her here.
"Then, only a few days after my tenth birthday, something happened. My family, because of a recent flood mixed with the shortage of food from a drought, could no longer support the seven of us. Someone had to go. My mother was sick, and my dad had broken his knee. My youngest siblings, the twins Ai and An, were no more than babies. My great-aunt and great-uncle were too old. So I left. I came here, and lived here up until now."
"Alone…?" Ming-Na was once more torn to sympathy. She couldn't have bore it, if it were her. All alone, missing her closest friends and most-trusted confidants.
Sying smiled that same, small, understanding smile. As if she was the older girl, knowing something that young Ming-Na was too little to understand. "Not alone." And left it at that. "Maybe, if you'll forgive me, you'll understand one day."
Ming-Na smirked, allowing a little bit of her more recent self to float to the surface. "When I'm older?" She asked wryly.
"When you've grown." And then the morning sun cast its light across the faces of the two Fire Nation girls, revealing tears on both their faces. However, these tears were shed for the same girl; the little girl who still had such a long way to go until she grew up.
Riding away from the island, where Sying still lay, Ming-Na once more let her thoughts turn to that lesson with her father. There is a line you must never cross, Ming-Na. A line no wider than a sheet of paper, but sharper than the Fire Lord's sword. Lesson one: never, ever cross the line from warrior into animal. Those were the first words that had been spoken in her first class of kenjutsu. But now, Ming-Na thought about the last words of that day's lesson. She had waited, knowing that was the way it should be, until they had finished everything else. Then, like a prophecy come into fulfillment, Ming-Na had spoken these words, the last words on the first day of her path to becoming a true warrior:
How do you do that, father? She had asked at last. I have seen the look of men who fight. They all look like animals. How do you stop before you cross into becoming like them?
And her father had answered, in words all but forgotten, By never, ever, forgetting that you are human. You may be in the thick of battle, fighting for your life, but you are still a human girl. And what do all human beings have? Compassion. Compassion for your enemy, Ming-Na. You may have to take his life, but never forget that he, just like you, fought through weakness and fear to become who he is now. Win the battle, and then mourn for all the dead on that field. Because everyone has shed tears, had heart broken, has had to struggle not to cross the razor sharp, paper thin line from a human being into an animal.
To be continued…