The murmurs went on as the single flame slipped around the circle's curve, casting grotesque shadows throughout the chamber. Jet's eyes followed it, briefly, then snapped back to the man. His face was silhouetted against the flickering fire, and he continued to chant in that low, hypnotic voice.
He knew what they were trying to do. They wanted to hypnotize him, to turn him into a zombie-like being with a smile plastered on his face, just like all the residents in this freakish city.
But Jet was strong. He would resist it.
The man's even gaze went straight through Jet, boring into the very fiber of his being.
There is no war in Ba Sing Se.
The flame whipped past yet again, and Jet forced himself not to look at it. His eyes hardened as the fire was momentarily blotted out when it moved behind the man. The next instant, though, the light had returned…
The man's mutters resounded through his mind, but he pushed them back.
The war does not exist in Ba Sing Se.
He could no longer hear the man's words, yet they still echoed through his mind. Jet wondered why he was trying resisting the urge to believe them. It was quite simple, really. Ba Sing Se was utopia, free of the unnecessary political disputes going on outside the protective walls…
Jet violently fought against his bonds. He gasped and twisted, straining to break free, but he was held fast. What was he thinking? The war was real; he had experienced it himself. These insane people did not acknowledge it, and they were trying to force him to…
Jet stopped trying to sort out his distracting thoughts. It was futile.
The bonds had cut into his skin, and Jet was surprised to feel warm blood trickling on his skin. There was a bit of pain, but it faded away as the fire flickered past his eyes again.
That burning vase was rather interesting to watch….
The war does not exist in Ba Sing Se.
The light was irresistible.
Jet's eyes widened, and moved with the smouldering pot, the mesmerizing glow filling his vision, occupying his mind, all his thoughts…
Then, it all became clear.
The war does not exist.
Jet gazed fixedly at the fire, contentment overcoming all other emotions. All this time he thought he was fighting them, but it was himself and his delusions that were enmities.
Jet had defeated himself; his needless doubts were gone, and a tranquil smile graced his face. The struggle was finished. Cruel misunderstanding drifted away with the smoke.
It was all right, everything was all right.
----
Jet departed from that dank prison still smiling that small, peaceful smile, warmth and happiness flooding his freshly cleansed soul.
Everything, the dirty beggars in the corner, the grey-washed laundry flapping in the wind, the dog lapping at some filth in a gloomy alley, seemed fresher, brighter, glistening with a newly awakened hope. The once forbidding, entrapping walls were protective deities smiling down upon this brilliant city ensconced in protection, in love, in joy.
The secret of peace, of true harmony, was his at last.
The war did not exist.
-----------------------
Hehe, kinda psychotic, isn't it? Jet's so OOC, but hey. He's been hypnotized. Can anyone guess the book whose ending I was thinking of when I wrote this?
Review. Even if you're going to flame.
