Jet stumbled, thinking there was a reflection of himself on the other side of the stream – but he soon realized that this apparition wasn't his own ghost.
He was dreadfully pale, probably from living a life of fear and hiding, and also the sudden appearance of a boy with the dagger in the heart of the woods. His dark eyes were shadowed by a straw hat that threw darkness over everything but his thin-lipped mouth. He was slightly shorter than Jet, but he was lanky, with stringy muscled arms and thin legs that seemed able to break at any moment. His tunic was shredded and slightly singed, his red cloak torn at the shoulders. He was watching Jet with the utmost terror, his hands resting shakily on what appeared to be a longbow.
The weapon itself was half his size and he had to put it on the ground ever few seconds, as it was too heavy for him. The arrow dangled in his hand, missing the string every time he tried to place it in the notch, his fingers dancing with nervous excitement.
Jet took the opportunity to duck behind a tree for cover, even though he knew the boy's bow was of little threat. Glancing at him between the branches, he caught his eye for the second time.
"You! Are you Fire Nation?"
The boy glanced up from his bow at these words and a terrible wrath swept across his face. Furious, he grabbed his arrow and slammed it fiercely into the nearest tree, shaking his head angrily.
Jet, confused but feeling more at ease, approached him as he wrenched the arrow from the tree. When the other boy saw him he turned and pointed at him with the point of the arrow.
For a second, Jet didn't know what was happening; then he realized what the boy meant.
"No, I'm not Fire Nation," he said instantly. To prove his point, he put the dagger back at his side and the other boy relaxed.
Jet found a spot in the stream only a foot across and jumped to the other side, where the boy came over and smiled at him. Jet smiled back, feeling an unsure comfort coming from the presence of another human being that wasn't a Fire nation devil.
"Who are you?"
The boy's smile faded and he turned away. Walking away slowly, he reached a bare spot of forest earth and bent down to pick up a lone twig. Jet, confused and slightly offended, rounded on him.
"Hey, I asked you a question. What's wrong with you?"
The boy was scribbling something furiously in the earth and for another moment, Jet was perplexed. Then he stood up and pointed to what he had written, gesturing for Jet to read. Reluctantly, he bent to the earth and read the scribbling.
I can't talk.
Jet frowned and looked at the boy, who was now kneeling beside him and nodding encouragingly.
"What do you mean, you can't talk?"
The boy stirred up the dirt and wrote something new.
My throat was burned.
Jet frowned again, but suddenly a light bulb went on in his head.
"Fire Nation did it to you, didn't they?"
The boy scribbled.
I breathed in the smoke. They burned my town. The bow is my father's.
Something wrenched painfully inside Jet as he read the last sentence. Visions of roaring flame and devils entered his gaze, but he shook them away. His thought turned to his mother, his father, his family – the reason he fought.
"What happened to him? Your family?"
For a moment the boy did nothing. He was staring at the dirt as though contemplating what exactly to write in response to Jet's question. Hesitantly, he bent down and scribbled something.
Fire Nation burned down our Temple.
Jet read it and grew immediately irritated. How could he say something like that after Jet's question? Did he even care about his family?
"That's not what I asked you. What happened to your family?" he snapped. After hammering the deaths of his own family into his mind, any disrespect shown by others to their families he resented with an intense fierceness. The boy scribbled.
They were in the Temple.
Jet regretted his anger instantly. He stammered a sorry as the boy shook it off. For a moment, a silence lingered between them. Then Jet raised his voice.
"I want to destroy the Fire Nation. Like they destroyed my village," he blurted. Surprisingly, the boy looked up at him with wistful, shining eyes and nodded in ferocious approval, patting his bow. Spurred by his support Jet went on.
"You too? Then we should do it together. My name's Jet."
The boy scribbled something into the earth.
Call me Longshot.
Jet smiled at the clever name and held out his hand towards him.
"Then let's be partners, Longshot. Me and you will start something. A band of fighters, to free the innocent from the Fire Nation. We'll take them down, as long as it takes. We'll make them pay for what they've done."
Longshot gazed warily at Jet's outstretched hand before scribbling something else on the ground.
How can I trust you?
Jet's smile faded, but he kept his hand extended. His eyes locked with Longshot's.
"They killed my parents too."
Longshot studied Jet's face for a moment, and then clapped his hand in his. Jet let out a victorious laugh and jumped into the air, hollering.
"Alright! We'll bring the Fire Nation down, we'll make them pay, we'll –"
He stopped as Longshot tapped his shoulder and pointed to the earth, where he had written something new.
I know where to find some others. Others like us.
