Hei-Won sat in front of the biggest fire in the camp, surrounded by children she didn't know, who all followed an old man—a fire bender of all things, that had apparently shown them all a way to live. The night was deep in the woods, and Jeong Jeong assured her she wouldn't be found. Not here. Their leader, the guy named Jet, was a gaunt too thin young man, not that much older than her. At least, he wasn't supposed to be that old. But his eyes had that haunted, far away stare she'd seen in the other slaves.

But where their eyes were dead, his had a fire behind them.

"You should eat," said Mitsu. She was a just as gaunt girl, younger than her and dressed in just as ragged clothes. Hei-Won knew none of the children had been taken as slaves. None of them bore any wounds around their wrists or ankles. It was a mercy, somewhat. But them being here meant they were all in the same boat.

They had all lost family.

She took the offered bowl. It was a crooked, awkward thing. Jook. But it was just barely muddled water. She took a sip. It tasted as promising as it looked, like nothing. She downed the rest of it anyway. She ate better as a slave than these children. But at least here she was free.

"It's not much" —the girl sipped at her own bowl— "but we make do."

And they have. The camp had children of mixed ages, but all mostly younger. Jet seemed the oldest with Mitsu the closest in height. They were also a mix of people's mostly Earth, but some she could see had the tell-tale heritage of Fire. Hazel eyes were a mark of those born from the Fire Nation. And the few she'd seen before in the Lower Rings made its mark on her.

The Dai Li kept a close eye on those refugees. And hushed whispers told tales of them forced to work in the dark catacombs beneath the city. But here it didn't matter. They were all just victims of the times. Of the powers that be that saw no more value in a war.

Whose end brought the cracks against the Earth's stone walls to bear.

"Thank you," she said. Gratitude, her mother always said, was never a mistake.

Moments passed. Seconds, maybe minutes. The fire crackled. Hei-Won breathed in the ash scented forest air. It was a lush and living welling in her chest. The wind, she noticed, seemed more alive after she'd awoken to her bending. It had color and vibrancy somehow. She could smell and taste from it. She knew Jeong Jeong and Jet were talking in some hidden away corner, away from curious eyes.

But not from the wind.

"I need to leave again," Jeong Jeong said.

"There are people after her," Jet said.

"She will be of help."

"Is she weak?"

"She has lost much, but she knows what must be done."

Hei-Won knew what happened when she didn't choose. Bad men took things away from her anyway. At least with a fight she could die trying. Her father passed with a fierce roar. There was honor in taking a stand. Just as there was with living to fight another day.

Even if it didn't feel right.

The wind had been her friend since that fated day. But it had brought more problems than joy. Jeong Jeong said it wasn't her fault or the wind's, but of bad men that cared only for the prize of owning something they otherwise can't. Freedom. It was a bittersweet thing.

"Mitsu," she said, "what do you need help with?"

She was weak. But only for now.

The girl passed another bowl to one of the younger kids. Another girl. Maybe no older than ten, maybe younger. She walked with a limp.

"We need more food. We always do."

They all did. Especially when her caravan—if it could even be called that—had arrived at the lip of the Si Wong. There were no shops or animals or forage. They fell to the slavers not long after.

"I can do that."

Jeong Jeong had shown her that much.

Mitsu smiled. "Maybe we can finally get a proper meal for once."

She didn't remember falling asleep after that.

She awoke to a gentle tapping against her foot.

"Let's go," Jet said.

Hei-Won opened her eyes to the first few moments of sunrise, to the point where the sky was just about to wake up. Mitsu was standing next to him. The girl nodded to her in greeting. She forced herself to stand up despite the stiffness of the cold morning.

"Okay," she said.

Jet turned back and started walking, with Mitsu following after. Hei-Won fell in step behind them. They walked a good minute away from the rest of the camp before the two started jogging. She followed them with the wind pushing her from behind. Only now did she notice the subtle marks against the trees. There were crosses against the bark, etched in a way that they were just visible at a certain pace.

Then they took to the trees.

She followed them up with her eyes. Jeong Jeong said he had thought these children how to live as well, she just didn't know it was possible to become like this. She knew the two weren't benders. But even then they were amazing. If only her parents knew then. Hei-Won swallowed the cold in her chest. And tugged at the air, letting herself get pulled one way and pushed the other.

A better air bender might have made this look nicer.

She saw Jet and Mitsu look back. She picked up speed, foregoing stepping on the branches themselves and favoring kicking against the bark instead. It felt like she was a monorail following an invisible road of wind. She felt, somewhat saw the path she needed to take to where she needed to go. She simply knew.

They settled into a relaxed but powerful pace that put them in the outskirts of a nearby town after some time. She couldn't tell how far they were from where they started. But it couldn't have been too far. The town had high walls made of stone, not just earth. Few rooftops were visible from where they stood, but none of them looked to be made of earth.

"We're here," Jet said. He looked back at her. "We must not kill anyone."

Mitsu met her eyes.

"Okay," she said. Not that she could anyway. She lost Father's knife when the slavers took her. She lost way more than just that too.

Mitsu had a knife. Jet had a thin short sword. Hei-Won had neither, but since no one had to die anyway she could just push them all away with her bending. They were different, she reminded herself. Much stronger. She'd seen Jeong Jeong smash bent rocks and pull at metal with just his hands what he called the inner fire. She had no doubts these two might be capable of such feats themselves.

Jet leapt from the tree and onto the roof, silencing his landing by using his hands to help cushion the fall. She felt the wind give and flow as he moved, showing her how to do so herself. Mitsu followed after, landing with just as little sound.

Hei-Won followed, the wind like a road before her and landed with both feet gently touching down.

Jet nodded and lead the way towards the largest building. It was one of the few that had more than one floor to them. He further lead the way through one window, and climbed in from it. Mitsu and her followed, and they found themselves in a dark room with many large pots on the floor.

The young man strode to a corner and pulled out a sack. Then he used his knife to pry open the lid on one of the pots. He passed the sack to Mitsu, and he started shoveling grains into the sack with his hands. This was where they'd gotten their food from last night. One sack wasn't enough to feed the camp back home with properly cooked rice. Hence the jook. It hurt to remember the hardships that eventually took her parents away.

Honor wasn't worth anything in the face of hunger and an unfair world.

Jet finished one sack and got started on another. He filled it about two-thirds of the way full before tying the sack with a tight knot but let the contents of it shift and flow, looking like a pillow. He then took another sack and used that to tie the sack of grain against Mitsu's body snugly.

They each had a sack to their backs when they finished—with the sun finally bright in the sky. They'd lost the cover of near darkness and the unsettled, just woken up unease and slowness of thought.

"If they find us, stick together and just follow me no matter what. Lose the sack if you need to."

Hei-Won took a deep breath and prepared herself for the life she had now.