By Blood and Iron
. helium lost .

Author's Notes: Fast updates? You betcha. The plot bunny is growing into some sort of Goliath, and I'm hoping to finish this soon, as I don't plan on it being that long (though that'll probably change -.-;).

• 3 •

Hiko sighed, blowing clouds of dust up from around him. Outside, it was beginning to get dark, with the sun setting beyond the distant hills. Sure, those rhino races had been fun—minutes of exhilaration and adrenaline, watching thousands of pounds of rhino dashing around a racetrack, riders perched precariously on their backs—but he was beginning to wonder if it had been worth it, what with his unfinished report and mounting feeling of tension when he realized that he only had precious few hours to finish it now.

Well, okay, it had been funny to see Kyosuke get drunk afterward, and he never knew that Haruki could sing, nevermind make up a song about flying bison off the top of his head—with decent lyrics, too; none of that random nonsense with squirrels and whatnot. Though he had to admit that things stopped being so funny when Jirou somehow convinced himself that he was a Yuu Yan archer, and had nearly clipped off Hiko's ear with a knife he'd thrown, believing that it was an arrow (his left bangs now hung slightly shorter than his right).

He frowned. It was difficult enough to concentrate; letting his mind wander wasn't going to help. He sat on the hard wooden floor, brushing dust off the bookshelves. He ran a finger down the spines of the books, looking for something that could present new information, or at least a new viewpoint. Spears and Harpoons—no, that wasn't going to help; he was researching bigger weapons, and those were mainly Water Tribe weapons, anyway. Explosives—that looked interesting. He pulled it off the shelf. An Age of Violence—that one definitely looked interesting. He pulled it off the shelf, coughing from the cloud of dust that wafted up to greet him.

He opened it up to a random page, scanning the text. He rolled his eyes as he read—just some book against violence and its use, citing various events in which it destroyed more than created, hindered more than helped—he shut the book, and as he did so, something fluttered out—a few sheets of folded up paper. He unfolded it and smoothed it out on his lap, reading it by the light of the flickering candles.

The first thing he noticed was that it was dated from sixty years ago. The next thing he noticed was that it was from Professor Maikotsu, head of anthropology at Huojing University; he remembered hearing stories of the man—he had spent some time in the jungle doing who-knows-what, then returned to Huojing, only to go crazy days later from some sort of poisonous bug bite or sickness; he had died a week or two later. It was a shame, said the newspapers, that such a great mind had been lost. He had, after all, been the one who had researched the various subdivisions of benders, and had been the first to report plantbenders and sandbenders with in-depth theses. That, and he also had various discoveries of new species credited to his name.

Hiko smoothed out the paper again, reading the professor's spindly writing.

Dear Sai:

Thank you for your letter. Your carrier hawk is truly amazing to have been able to find me in such a remote place as this, considering the fact that I hardly know where I am myself. All I know is that I was going through the rainforest in the southern part of the Earth Kingdom; other than that, I have no clue about where I am, though I can say that there's a mountain range not too far from here.

I'm sorry for not having contacted you sooner; I have been so absorbed in what has been going on around me. I'm sorry for making you worry. But I have made an amazing discovery, one that may change the entire world's concept of bending. While I was on my expedition, I stumbled upon a clan of metalbenders.

Hiko paused and rubbed his eyes, making sure that he'd read the last bit correctly. Metalbenders? Was such a thing even possible?

I realize that it might be hard to believe—I found it hard to believe myself—but I assure you that it is completely true. These people decorate their huts with things of amazing intricacy, coils of metal shaped in the most amazing designs. What's more, each of the huts is built of bricks that fit together so perfectly that they have no need to use mortar to join them, and that I cannot wedge even a single piece of paper into the cracks. They have done this by using very precise metal tools; those tools don't distort and change shape like wood, nor do they chip and become uneven like stone.

Hiko stood and walked over to the stone wall of the library. He peered at the stone, noticing that all of them were joined by mortar, and, though their shapes were very similar, there were definitely differences in them, preventing them from fitting together as perfectly as the professor had described. He sat at the table by the wall, quickly glancing outside. The sky was dark, and the stars were twinkling. He continued reading.

I have taken some time to learn their language, a dialect of our common tongue. Their creation myth is a long and detailed one, one that even I have some difficulty understanding, except for the fact that it centers around two siblings—brother and sister—named Jin and Yin. However, it was enough for me to verify my theory: through forced isolation, the metalbenders, who were once earthbenders, managed to hone their skills to the point where their bending abilities completely split from earthbending.

The metalbenders have curious practices, in addition to their curious history. All of the members of the tribe are heavily pierced—they have metal bars and studs driven through the flesh all over their faces and bodies: multiple pairs on their eyebrows; dozens on each ear; three or more on their lips; various on their nose, including through the bridge… and that's just their face. These piercings appear to be a measure of status—the chief has the most piercings; he even has bars through the webs of his fingers.

Hiko looked at his hands and imagined having bars through the webs. He winced—he had gotten a splinter through the web between his thumb and index finger, and it had hurt quite a bit, flashing white-hot pain through his hand. He couldn't imagine having bars driven through all the webs…

Despite this somewhat menacing appearance, the metalbenders are a peaceful group. They hardly fight, and when they do, it's settled diplomatically. Even when they bend, they have a very passive stance, which is almost entirely different from the traditional earthbending stances, which are solid, secure, and stable. Rather, the metalbending stance seems to resemble a cross between waterbending and earthbending: the metal doesn't emerge in chunks or rocks like earthbending, but rather, in a liquidy, very malleable form. It's this that lets the metalbenders manipulate the metal so freely and easily; in seconds, they can create an intricate chain necklance. It's almost like someone spinning thread.

But jewelry isn't the only thing they produce. When the need arises, these metalbenders can create very formidable weapons. I have watched some of them hunt animals, and it is quite the amazing sight—if they are hunting fast-moving animals, like birds or small mammals, the hunters draw metal from the particular necklaces they wear—a chain from which balls of various different metals dangle—and, in deft movements almost too fast to see, they turn the metal into little daggers and throw them at the animals. Think of the throwing-weapons specialists back home, only take their accuracy and increase it twofold.

But they don't use only daggers—no, they create whatever the need calls for. When hunting larger prey, they create swords—perfect swords. I handled one after the hunt, and it was amazingly balanced, and so sharp that my finger barely touched it before it was cut.

And it was created in a matter of minutes!

After I held the sword, the hunter who created it took it back and melted it back into a few balls, which he joined to his necklace. He told me that weapons are used, but not kept, which I thought was a shame; they were truly very beautiful, and perfect.

Hiko frowned. He, too, couldn't understand the idea of destroying a perfectly good weapon. If it wasn't broken or obsolete, why destroy it?

There are no tribes for many miles around; these forests are thick and harsh. In fact, I believe that this isolation is what has made these metalbenders so passive—they encounter rno one, and they have no need to fight, to build up an arms stockhold. In fact, their passive bending stance may indicate that their fighting ability is far below, say, your average earthbender; they may have few skills outside of hunting instinct.

Imagine, if there are metalbenders, what other kind of benders can be out there? Could there possibly be benders that can manipulate other elements, or even things that aren't elements—light, shadow, or even the human senses?

Please write back soon.

Sincerely,

Kazuki Maikotsu

PS: If you could please forward this to Kazuo, my assistant, I would greatly appreciate it. By n means am I done writing a thesis on these people, but Kazuo would probably be interested in these early finds. Hopefully, he's kept the anthropology department in good order in my absence.

K. M.

Hiko set the letter down, a thoughtful expression on his face. Metalbenders—it was a whimsical idea, but if it was true, it held so much potential. He silently thanked Sai, who must've had bad memory—this Sai must've been reading that book when he used the letter as a bookmark and forgot about it.

Either way, Hiko felt ideas storming and brewing in his mind.

What if the metalbenders didn't destroy those perfect weapons?

What if, say, the metalbenders were provided with blueprints of complex machinery that was either very difficult to build, or took a very long time to build?

What if the metalbenders supplied these skills to the Fire nation?

Hiko smiled. This was beginning to sound good. He pulled another blank sheet of paper toward him, and began to write a new report, one that he was sure would be more interesting than his last.

• • •

Author's Notes: Wrote this chapter by flashlight from 11:30PM to 1:30AM last night -.-; So, any comments, constructive criticism, feedback, etc. is greatly appreciated. Thanks!