Sorry for the supreme suckiness of this chapter. I have no excuse except for the fact that I think I'm catching the 101 degree fever my younger sister has, so blame her…just kidding. But bear with me, and I promise the next one will be better.
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
7. On the Edge of a Knife
After her speech, Mingeline left the balcony. She did not want to see the Avatar –or anyone else for that matter- maimed. But not for the reasons one might think. Mingeline simply had a rather weak stomach when it came to torture. So instead, she took one of the long hallways of the palace to her rooms.
Her shoes echoed loudly on the hard floors, the noise making her uneasy. She was the only one walking these corridors; everyone else was joining in the festivities down below, probably watching with joy while Aang became both shamed and injured. But more than that, the reason she was so uneasy was because she was no longer a warrior, but a base traitor--to both the Fire Nation and the friends she had made on her travels.
No one would ever call her an honorable warrior now, not with the lies and the deceit. But most of all, not with the way she had turned her back on everything she held sacred. She had gone beyond all hope of forgiveness. Mingeline Nanamye Hinokenna de Fyre was now neither warrior nor princess--she was a deserter to integrity itself.
Later that night, there was a ball in one of the huge chambers of the palace. But Mingeline did not attend. Instead of mingling with other nobles -talking and dancing and laughing- she sat in her room, staring at the dark walls, the light in her eyes mirroring the blackness of her room.
Mingeline was showing worse for the wear in all areas. She was still in the dark red kimono of earlier, but now it was untidy: her obi has begun to unroll, causing her kimono to droop around the shoulders, and her lower legs could clearly be seen. Her hair was unbound, hanging straight down her back in ebony tangles, while the white powder on her face and the red paint on her lips were messed up. She was a desight, she knew. But she did not care.
Her eyes roamed to an empty stand on the wall opposite the one her bed was against. That stand had one held Chigiri, before she had taken it down, to use it as a weapon, in combat. But, mere days ago, her precious Chigiri had been broken.
It seemed that, like the people in her life, Mingeline's most treasured weapons had been cruelly taken from her. Her honor blade, the nobility's right of passage in her Nation, had been broken by Wei-Fei as he condemned her entire culture as barbaric and cowardly. And now Chigiri, who had been with her practically since birth, was also broken. Broken and destroyed; not even a single shard of metal remained.
She had loved that sword, as much or more than anyone ever could. It had been a symbol of her very way of life; a tangible reminder of what she had once lived for every waking moment of her life. It was a representation of all she had stood for, all her Nation stood for. It was the icon of honor, duty, courage, loyalty…and those were just at the surface. It was a promise; a promise of what she would, little by little, become: that she would grow up strong and never sway from her path; even in darkness and despair.
Zhao had snapped the blade of brave, true Chigiri in half, right in front of her hopeless face. She had not cried. It was beyond tears. Beyond pain. Beyond any hope of recovery. And after that, it had been incinerated. Chigiri would never shine again.
Mingeline felt a pain stab through her chest, and realized with a sickening clarity that she was dying. She could feel her consciousness shutting down. She was ebbing away even as this realization struck her. Mingeline was dying; alone in her room, without anyone to care that she would soon be gone. She was dying of a broken heart. And damn if it didn't hurt more than anything else she'd felt.
Abruptly there was a pounding on the door, and Lin's voice, crazy with fear and pent-up emotion, rang out. "Open up, Ming! Open up or I'll break the door down!"
That declaration would have been almost comical if not for present circumstances. Lin –and her three siblings- were small and petite, not at all strong enough to break down a door. Mingeline could ignore the shouts, so she did not worry when the pounding increased. Then, suddenly, the door did break down, or rather, swing open--even though it had been bolted shut.
Standing there in the doorway was Lin, but next to her –the obvious cause of the opened door- was a man out of Mingeline's past. She recognized him instantly: that black hair pulled back into a ponytail, those blazing eyes that shined with indescribable emotion, and the well-muscled form of a strong bender. Wei-Fei.
The two of them rushed to Mingeline's side, and sat down next to her. They both had fear in their faces as they watched Mingeline's eyes try to focus on their own, only to see hers slide away; cloud over.
They sat there, in frantic yet hesitant silence, until someone spoke. Surprisingly, it was Mingeline herself who broke the hush. She had turned to Wei-Fei, and said in a weak voice, "You were right, Wei, about what you said when we fought. I am a coward…" She let her voice trail off, and smiled up at him feebly.
"She's dying…." Lin said in a startled and distressed voice. "What can we do, Wei-Fei, sir?" She turned up to him, eyes begging him to find a way.
Wei-Fei's eyes hardened as he turned from Lin to Mingeline. "Don't give in, Ming-Na!" He shouted. And then he shook her, so that her hair flew around her face and her kimono slipped down to the edges of her shoulders "You're too stubborn to give in now!"
"No…" Mingeline said, drawing herself away from the two of them. "I no longer matter. I should just go…it'll be so much better…for everyone." She knew it would be easier to go; to die. It would feel so much better if she just closed her eyes…
Even as she thought this, her eyes did flutter closed, and Lin began to cry. "No, Lady Ming!" she wailed. "You can't give in! Fight!"
"It's too late, Lin." Mingeline leaned forward, and kissed Lin on the cheek gently, like a mother to a child "You've been there for me always, Lin. But now…you need to let me go."
"No!" Wei-Fei snarled, and shook her harder. "Damnit, hold on, Ming-Na!" But Mingeline only stared weakly at the two of them. She could feel herself beginning to surrender her mind to the obsidian oblivion beyond the world she lived.
"We're losing her!" Lin shrieked, sobbing into Wei-Fei's shirt.
It was true. Mingeline was only minutes from death, and it seemed that nothing they could do would bring her back from the brink. She had finally gone beyond a place of return. There was no bringing her back now. Mingeline had been broken too thoroughly, and now death was imminent.
Wei-Fei gritted his teeth, and then slapped her, hard across the face. "There's no way I'm letting you go!" He screamed; voice shrill with fear. He would not; could not lose her. Not now--not ever. But his pleas went unheeded as still she slipped away.
"Think of life!" Wei-Fei yelled, fierce and furious as -in an act of desperation- he kissed Mingeline, hard and deep. He bit her lip and the blood filled both their mouths; the metallic taste an anchor to life. He clung to her in the tumult of emotions and fears as if he would physically drag her back into life. Then, when it seemed beyond all hope, he miraculously watched her eyes clear, and he saw--literally, saw, the vitality and hope flow back into her.
She moaned, and shook her head, eyes blinking slowly. Then she focused on Wei-Fei, and spoke in a breathless whisper, "Am I…alive…?" Then, she felt the pain of a split lip, and the blood burned her mouth, as if in answer to her own question. She spat out the blood into the sink, allowing a soft "Ow…" to escape her lips.
"Sorry…" Wei-Fei apologized gruffly, blushing slightly as Mingeline touch her own lips. "Nothing else worked…" Lin, peeking out from behind Wei-Fei, flushed red.
They sat there in an embarrassed silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Wei-Fei stood abruptly, and walked to the door. "We should be going, Lin." He said; still a little mortified at what he had done. She seemed to be fine now, or as fine as she could be after all that had happened to her in the last few days. There was no doubt that the immediate danger was past, but secretly he still worried about her. She had gone through too much to be able to escape it unharmed after only such a small catalyst. But she needed to be alone, he saw that now. It would not hurt to let her rest for a few hours.
But Lin was not to be dissuaded. Her princess was still fragile, and could easily slip back into the same scenario she had been found in. Lin suddenly got very serious at this prospect, and pushed past Wei-Fei to kneel next to Mingeline. Angrily, and with a little too much vehemence, she spoke to the princess. "Promise me you will never do that again, Lady Ming. Promise me that you'll keep fighting."
Mingeline sighed faintly. "I promise, dear Lin." She smiled at Lin, and stroked her cheek softly. "You're always looking out for me, aren't you." she said gently, and it wasn't a question.
"We should go." Wei-Fei said, steering Lin back toward the door. Once there, he turned and said to Mingeline "We'll come back within the hour." They crossed the threshold, and Lin turned and pulled the door to, but not before giving Mingeline a small smile. "We'll be there when you need us, Lady Ming." And with that, they left.
The first thing Mingeline did, upon realizing just how disheveled and immodest she looked, was to fix her kimono. The outer layer of cloth had come off the shoulders, and the skirt had billowed out around her legs. Even the inner layers of the kimono were slipping down, and the obi was unrolled so much that it no longer even served a purpose. It was embarrassing just how indecent she looked--and in front of a man, no less. If there was one thing all the women of Fire Nation nobility were taught, it was modesty, and if not for the circumstances, she would have been mortified.
So she loosed the obi completely, letting it slide down to the floor. Then she shed the outer kimono and the next two inner layers, until she was standing in a thin under-kimono. It was then that she caught sight of her hair, massed in tangles around her face, where tears had made the powder and paint smear and run. So she stepped to a wash basin, and washed off her face, as well as her powdered hands. Clean, she took up the task of combing her unruly hair, brushing so hard that individual hairs fell out, until it was sleek and shining once again. Then she went back to redressing. First she tightened her innermost layer of fabric, and tied it off. Then the next two inner layers followed suit. Finally, she shrugged her outer kimono back on, but –without the help of one of her handmaidens- she was unable to tighten her obi. So instead she tied off the outer layer with a spare bit of cloth; the result much the same, but looser and more subjected to work free.
After that exhausting task, she went to her bed, fully desiring a good solid block of sleep. No sooner had she lay down and closed her eyes, than she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
When next she opened her eyes, she thought that perhaps she was still asleep, for the image before her seemed unreal. An intangible woman stood –no…floated- before her, translucent but still managing to seem solid. She was the most beautiful woman Mingeline had ever seen, surpassing all the women in the palace, even the concubines with painted faces and shining jewels.
Her ebony hair was so dark that the shadows in the room appeared bright in comparison. Her eyes were of a golden color that was reminiscent of Zuko's, but these shone as bright and warm as sunbeams. Her skin was lily white, but instead of being a synthetic effect, Mingeline could tell it was natural, as were the blood-red color of her lips. Mingeline felt in awe of this alluring and exquisite woman, who she knew deep within her soul wasn't human.
"Do you know who I am, little Ming?" The woman spoke, in a gentle and soft voice that held equal parts of maternity, grace, and humility. Then she smiled, and Mingeline felt a lump rise in her throat as her heart expanded almost beyond bearing.
"No, my lady. I do not." She bowed low, unable to look at the woman any longer. Instead, she stared at the edge of her red silk kimono. The kimono was of crimson, with a golden phoenix embroidered on it; the tail rising from the front hem of the skirt, around the back, where it disappeared into the obi until it came back out to spread its wings across the upper back before curving its neck over the left shoulder, its head resting just above her left breast.
The woman spoke again, directing Mingeline's attention back up to her benign eyes. "I am one who you know well, yet not at all. I am the woman your dear father named you after. I am she who has watched over you since birth."
"Then, lady, you are Ming-Huo?" Mingeline answered the ethereal woman with an ardent reverence, for this was a woman who was perhaps more well-known than any other in the world. And now, it seemed, she had become a ten'nyo--an unblemished and pure maiden goddess.
"Yes, little Ming." And, as if reading her namesake's thoughts, she continued. "After my death, Agni himself sought me out in the heavens. He had seen something in myself that he felt merited something more than I had been given. My death itself may have had some of the doing in this, I think. Not many are willing to take this course, for to die by fire is considered the ultimate of ruinations--an act of something both sacred and sinful. But I digress…Ultimately, I was made more than human, but still vulnerable to the feelings and desires of man: a ten'nyo, or "heavenly maiden", as you knew me to be; and with that rank, I was given a new name: Minami.
"At a still later place in time, I was made the guardian of a young princess, for a child that bore my name was tied to me, and as such, it was my duty to shelter and watch over her. That child is now the young woman I see before me."
"But why do you only appear before me now!" Mingeline said, a hint of bitterness laced through the words. "So many things have gone wrong before, but why only now…?"
"I will make no excuses, little Ming." Minami lamented. "Many are the times where I could have intervened. Why, your precious father could still be with you, or even beloved Zuko. I could have stopped Zhao before he broke beautiful Chigiri, or, indeed, you. I could even have saved you from death. And I will admit that it was not divine law that stopped me all those times, little Ming. It was instead the simple truth that I knew you could overcome all these things, and come out all the stronger. And you will need all the power you have to face what is coming. But now I must give you back something that you will not be able to regain on your own. Listen well, Ming, my child: there is a battle coming. Your mother and your friends will fight for control over your mind and heart, and only you will be able to stop it. You must use all of your strengths for this engagement, and that is why I am here now."
Then, Minami paused, and leaning down, she kissed Mingeline gently on the forehead. "I give you…my most precious gift. Fight well, Ming-Na. Fight well, and with Honor…"
Then, she was gone, and Ming-Na could not tell if she had ever been there.
It was in the early hours of the morning -as the sun had just begun to rise- when Wei-Fei stopped to look in on Ming-Na; for although he had told her he would be there earlier, he knew that she needed her rest.
This time, he was alone; without even one of the four siblings who seemed to follow the young princess like her shadow--or rather, like four noisy, giggly little shadows that all seemed to be developing crushes on him.
With the unclosing of the big steel door that opened into Ming-Na's room, torchlight was thrown across her sleeping face, and Wei-Fei could see that she was resting serenely; much tidier and cleaner than she had been when last he saw her. He was amazed at the changed that had been wrought over her in the few hours of sleep. It was a change that had nothing to do with sleeker hair or neater clothes; in the light of a subtle dawn, Ming-Na seemed to be positively glowing.
It was amazing for Wei-Fei, watching the princess sleep and seeing just how healthy and, dare he say it, beautiful she looked. There was something magical about this moment; that he knew. And secretly, Wei-Fei Li was glad that he was experiencing it all on his own.
Acting on an impulse Wei-Fei closed the gap between them, and sat down on the bed next to the dreaming form of Ming-Na. He reached for her hand, and grasped it tightly, surprised at how much warmer she felt from the last time he had seen her. Then, acting, once more, on instinct than anything else, he leaned down, and gently brushed his lips against hers in a soft kiss. He loved her--this Wei-Fei knew above all else. Ever since he had found her in the capital a year and a half ago, he had loved her. She had just come off the worse in a relationship, and was seeking comfort from a broken heart. Things had just fallen in place for the two of them, as she grew to care deeply for him, and he even more deeply for her. Then, little more than a year ago, he had awoken to find her gone--room empty; wardrobe bare. And he knew then that she had never loved him; he was just someone to help her fill the gaping void in her heart. Wei-Fei knew she had really cared for him, but he knew now that the man she loved had been Zuko -which made him feel all the worse about things- and that Wei-Fei could never compare to the handsome prince of the Fire Nation, but still…Wei-Fei still loved Ming-Na, and he would do anything to help her.
For a while, he sat there, looking on her face, wondering what she had done since leaving him. He had heard tales in the palace; that she had joined up with the Avatar, but somehow this was hard to believe. He knew for a fact that some Admiral Zhao had brought her back, along with the Avatar, and that she had come off the worse. At this thought, he turned, and left. As much as he hated it, this was now her battle, and he knew it was not his place to fight with her. As much as he wanted to help her, he knew she would never let him, and so…he let her go.
"I'll be back for you, Ming-Na." He said, pausing at the door. "When all this is over, I promise I'll return for you…"
When Ming-Na rose, four hours after Wei-Fei left her room, she felt better than she ever had since she left the palace. It seemed like a dream, those two years, a dream filled with both sadness and joy; pain and pleasure. But most of all, it had been a dream of honor--finding it, losing it, and needing it.
But it wasn't a dream. Those memories and emotions had been real, and things were still far from over. Now she had regained her strength, and with it, a burden beyond anything she had received so far. Now, she must confront her mother--the woman who she feared more than the Fire Lord himself.
There was no doubt in her mind that the woman in her dreams had been real. The question was -if she remembered the ten'nyo's words correctly- what exactly had she been given? Quickly, Ming-Na looked around her room for signs of…a weapon? She really had no idea what the gift was. It could be anything…
Deciding that it was futile to look for something whose form she did not know, she elected to get dressed instead. But instead of putting on one of her constricting kimono, she dressed in her well-worn hunting leathers, over which she rested the Fire Nation armor she had received from her father on her fourteenth birthday. Next, she bound her hair back with a leather thong, to keep it out of her face. Finally, she crossed to the small armory set into the back of her closet, and pulled out a sword. While she would have traded it in a second for Chigiri, that was no longer an option. Its name was Kataki -meaning 'revenge'- and that was exactly what she would wreak.
As Ming-Na walked down the hallways of the palace, a plan began to form in her mind. Minami had said that there was a war coming, a war, not for land or goods, but for the sole influence over the mind of Princess Mingeline. Of course, Hyo-Lee wanted control back over her daughter, while –less obvious but still there- Wei-Fei and Aang's group also wanted to cast their dominion over her--to end the war, maybe…But the one thing both parties had overlooked –even she herself had overlooked it, for a very long time- was that the young woman that they knew was no longer Princess Mingeline. She was Ming-Na, warrior of the Fire Nation. She would not be held back by senseless rules, or act the role of the porcelain doll at court. Instead, Ming-Na would fight with all she had--all her passion, all her strength, and every last bit of the honor within her…But most of all, she would fight with the love she felt for her Nation; for with that, she would help it grow strong. She would make it proud.
The first step to accomplishing that dream, however, was to face her mother; to face her, and let it be known between them that Hyo-Lee could never control her daughter again. Ming-Na, who had no fear in any other task, felt herself tremble when she thought of what she would have to do now. Ming-Na feared Hyo-Lee even more than the Fire Lord himself, and with good reason, for Hyo-Lee knew all of the weaknesses of the young warrior: her fears, her dreams, and the things she loved. Each and every one of these would be exploited in the final conflict, but Ming-Na could not run anymore. This time, she would stand and fight.
Soon she found herself at the doors leading to the wing of the palace that belonged to Hyo-Lee. Ming-Na walked up to one of the guards stationed in front of the aforementioned door, and spoke in a commanding and imperial tone. "I am Ming-Na, daughter of Lady Hyosune and princess of the Fire Nation." She would not call herself Mingeline, not after estranging herself from that identity forever. "Let me in."
The guard laughed mirthlessly. "I do not know of any 'Ming-Na', and neither, I think, does Lady Hyosune."
"Let me in!" Ming-Na demanded forcefully. "Do not think I am powerless, for--"
"You are powerless." Ming-Na turned around to find herself face-to-face with Kazuki. He was a good foot-and-a-half taller than her and so surprised was she, that she took a few steps back. But Kazuki merely continued with what he had been saying.
"Here, Lady Hyosune holds the power. And it would be wise not to forget that again, for you are always only a lesser pawn in the game."
"I must see her." Ming-Na said, ignoring to the best of her ability Kazuki's insult. She would not let anything stop her now that she had a goal. "It is urgent I speak to my mother!"
"She will not see you." Kazuki said coldly, drawing himself up to his full height. "You have disgraced us all, what with your antics these past two years. Now it is your turn; your turn to suffer in ignorance, not knowing what your own flesh and blood is doing to shatter the vision you have worked with all your heart to become a reality."
"My mother does not have a vision." Ming-Na said quietly. But Kazuki did not hear; Kazuki could not hear, for Ming-Na was back in her room, disheartened and disquieted. "She does not have a vision…She has a twisted nightmare."
But with those words, Ming-Na realized that, if what she herself said was true, then it was all the more urgent that Hyo-Lee must be stopped. And if mother won't see me by choice, Ming-Na thought to herself, then by the gods, I'll make her notice me by force. And with that, Ming-Na headed out for the training grounds.
After an hour, Ming-Na had attracted the attention of every man and woman in the training ground she was in. It had been quite a chore, for without the power of her Firebending, -which Hyo-Lee had taken from her as punishment for her choice of exile over duty- she had had to rely on her swordsmanship to attract the attention she needed for her plan to work. She also had to do it alone, to make the feat she was trying to achieve all the more noticeable. And finally, while Kataki was a good sword, Ming-Na was still getting used to the new blade, making the task she was attempting all the more difficult and therefore, all the more dangerous.
What she was attempting was a very perilous and beautiful combat art form called the Sword-Dance. The Sword-Dance was a ritual that had been born during the early days of civilized rule, and, some say, was directly descended from the Firebending art of Agni Odori, or Fire Dance, only with a sword as medium. It was not a game; something to be taken lightly; this dance was a thing of elegance and peril, and was never undertaken unless the dancer was absolutely sure of themselves and their abilities.
A single blade is taken by the dancer, and is thereafter swung around the body in ever-increasingly close and difficult maneuvers. All this is done while the dancer is jumping, and all maneuvers must begin and end while the dancer's feet have left the ground. The result, if done correctly –and with any skill- is very alluring--with the blade flashing is the sunlight, and the mesmerizing beat of feet on and off the ground. Onlookers have very often breathed only scarcely while watching a Sword-Dance, for fear the drawn-in air would break the spell of fey beauty and cause the dancer to falter.
To keep it up for an hour was amazing. To keep the watchers this attentive for an hour was beyond human. But Ming-Na, no matter where she dwelled in the world, or what she was feeling at any moment, had always loved to dance. Whether it be the small, delicate movements she practiced as royalty, the free and deadly dance of combat, or even the turbulent and improvised dance that had sprung up in the middle of a street when her father had taken her down to the market, she danced and loved it all. But after engaging herself in princess dance, peasant dance, and even warrior dance, she still returned with a longing in her soul to Sword-Dance. It was her art; her gift. She never had any great talent in her studies, and Firebending –while exhilarating and beautiful- was something she had always had to work at to be any good at all with--but there were two things that came easily and wonderfully to Ming-Na: skill and ease with a sword, and grace and beauty in a dance.
Hyo-Lee did not know of Ming-Na's love for –and talent at- the Sword-Dance. Nor would she have ever found out, if things had stayed as they were two years ago. But now, Ming-Na danced with one thought in mind; one summons in her steps: 'Come to me. Come to me and look well. I will show you the truth about your daughter.' And eventually, she thought she did see a flash of red-gold kimono, but even as Ming-Na fixed her eyes upon it…it vanished.
But Ming-Na was not one to let people down -either herself or others- and so, she did not stop the dance as Hyo-Lee was lost from her sight, but kept on dancing, until, as the sun shone directly above the practice field. Only then did she let her sword drop to her side, feeling both happy and sad about the dance. On the one hand, she had kept it up for a little over three hours, but for another, she was no closer to meeting her mother than she had been at the start of the day.
While she thought, the crowd gradually began to disperse, until there was only one other person still near her; a girl around Ming-Na's own age, who was watching the warrior intently. But when Ming-Na finally turned to face the other girl, she saw with a sinking heart that it was Ziyi, and she did not look pleased.
"Lady Ming, what are you thinking!" she said; her hushed voice still able to convey the anger and shock she was feeling despite its volume. "You are in no condition to be up, let alone--" But Ziyi cut herself off as she looked, truly looked at Ming-Na. The young warrior wad not sweating or panting in exertion; she looked perfectly fine; so fine in fact, that she was positively glowing, exactly as Wei-Fei had seen here hours before.
"What is it?" Ming-Na asked, a tad bit impatient with Ziyi. "First you yell at me for doing something that you know well I wouldn't do if I wasn't up to it, and now you're staring at me like I'm some kind of freak."
"It's--Ming-Na, you're glowing!" Ziyi breathed, awed and humbled at the same time. She had never seen her Lady Ming look so beautiful and alive as she did now.
But for some reason, Ming-Na could not see the glow. "No, I'm not." She said –not unkindly- to Ziyi. "What are you talking about?"
"How can you not see it?" Ziyi asked; her eyes wide. "How can you not? It's all around you…shining so brightly. It's so beautiful…"
Ming-Na was horrified to see tears welling up in her friend's eyes--tears, not of heartbreaking sorrow, but of heartbreaking joy. Something was moving this girl, a great singing in the soul, and it was terrifying that Ming-Na herself could not see or take part in the exaltation of wonder Ziyi was experiencing. Then, gradually at first, fear began in rise in her, until she drowned in it like a diver in the ocean during a storm. Something was wrong with her--something she could neither see nor feel. The one place Ming-Na had always prided herself for complete control over was her body, so it scared her incalculably that there was something wrong with it that she had no power over.
"W-What are you talking about?" The words came out as a whisper, a forced sound that had no strength in it or dominion over it. "I-I'm not. H-How c-could I!" How was it that someone else was seeing something she herself wasn't; let alone something strange and unnatural?
Ziyi seemed entranced, however, and was not listening to Ming-Na's pleas for rationality. "The light is so bright…" she said, almost to herself. "I can see it…shining within you…"
Ming-Na ran--ran from the training grounds up to the palace –hurtling along corridors with an almost inhuman speed- until she found her room. She thrust the door open, then slammed it shut behind her; drawing the bolt tight across it.
Fear and confusion fought for dominance in her head, while she slid down to the floor of her room. Her back was to the door, and as such, once she lifted her eyes from the floor, she could see herself reflected in the full-length mirror directly opposite her. She could see the panic that potential abnormality brought her; the desperation to run away from those who inevitably saw something in her that had awoken without consent; and even the loss of control so evident in her posture; her expression; her eyes. But most of all, she saw the exquisitely glowing aura that surrounded her with light and love, and –even when her worst faults were so evident- made her beautiful.
Then there came a terrible swelling in her heart, as if she was experiencing too much joy to be contained within a cage of flesh and blood; too much for her to handle. It engulfed her, and she felt herself grow hot--beyond feverish, so that she slipped into her own world; her only lucid thought a frenzied wish to get out of her own skin. She had lost all control now.
She jumped to her feet with blurring speed, fed by the caustic emotions churning within her, and punched the air with both fists in the savage desire to release some of the red-hot energy within her. And, as a more primeval part of her knew, the uncontrollable heat, volatile energy, and even the otherworldly glow was directed to the arms, then the hands, until it all shot out in two blasts of fire.
Then it was gone; everything -the discomfort; the spinning of her mind; even the fire she herself had produced- had vanished, while one single thought permeated her brain. I was just Firebending… Then blackness swallowed her, and she fainted in a heap on the floor.
To be continued…