The weeks Sokka spent at Piandao's house quickly became the best experience in his life so far. At first he was extremely nervous, uncertain he would live up to his Master's expectations, but he had calmed down as he was given his first lessons, which he had enjoyed thoroughly despite how confusing their purpose was.
His first class had been of a surprisingly academic nature, but he didn't complain about the lack of action. After two years of coping with violence and aggression he found he preferred to soothe his soul with words, something Piandao had taken as a very positive sign: he firmly believed that a swordsman who only sought to kill his enemies in cold blood was no true swordsman. And so, Sokka sat on his spot, listening to every word Piandao said, not only because Azula had previously advised him to do so, but because every wise word the man uttered was of intangible value. After he was done speaking, the sword master had unsheathed one of his fine originally crafted blades and performed several movements so fluently that Sokka was left to gape at him in awe. He had always thought of himself as a decent fighter, but upon witnessing his new master's prowess, he now thought his own skills were insignificant.
Before Sokka could process what was happening, Piandao had clad him in a light armor and helmet; he also gave him a wooden sword so he could face against Fat in practice combat. Sokka had stared at his weapon for a while, unsure of how to use it. He guessed he ought to follow Piandao's teachings from earlier, about thinking of the sword as an extension of his body...
But this didn't work out so well for Sokka, since Fat bested him quickly on the first assault. Fat probably wasn't half as powerful a swordsman as Piandao was, but he was still far more skilled than Sokka. Sokka thought this to be the natural outcome, since the first sword he had ever held was this wooden one, but regardless, he found himself attempting to thwart his opponent by analyzing his every move, perhaps locating his weak points...
By the third round, Sokka had disarmed Fat, after struggling a little. Piandao was most definitely impressed.
But sword fighting hadn't been the only subject of Piandao's training. Sokka was quite surprised by the unusual tasks the sword master imposed on him from day one, tasks that seemed to hold from little to no connections with the art of the blade. He followed his every command, though, no matter if he didn't understand the intentions of what Piandao was teaching him anymore. Piandao had noticed Sokka had a very agile mind, and he expected the gladiator to reach the pertinent conclusions on his own. Still, it wasn't easy for Sokka to find the relation existent between calligraphy, painting, garden rearranging, Pai Sho and sword fighting. Regardless, he didn't question Piandao's teachings out of respect, and the master was very pleased to have such a noble student despite his humble origins.
At night, Piandao and Sokka sat down for dinner after a very exhausting day, and the master asked Sokka to explain the circumstances that had driven him to become Azula's gladiator. Sokka hadn't been too willing to retell his life's story, but he complied with Piandao's wishes and conveyed his tale to him to the best of his ability.
"... And so, though I didn't ask for it and I used to think I'd rather die than serve her, I ended up agreeing to become her gladiator." Sokka finished, looking very downcast.
"I see..." muttered Piandao, sipping his tea.
"It's okay if you judge me for being so weak," Sokka sighed. "I'm disappointed with myself, to tell the truth... I swore I would never give up to her again, that the next time we met would be the last because either one of us would kill the other... but the minute she offered to snatch me out of that hell hole, I chose a life of indignity. I gave up what little self-respect I had left... I'm the worst kind of man."
"You are too unforgiving of yourself, Sokka," said Piandao. "She offered you the opportunity of a lifetime, and she changed what promised to be a deadly fate for you. Your decision was based on your survival instincts rather than your pride. You made a far more honorable move by accepting her offer than by declining it."
"I don't know about honor, sir," he muttered. "I think the last bit of honor I had was left behind in the South Pole."
"You are mistaken to think so. You are, most likely, one of the most honorable men I have ever met."
"I have no clue what makes you say that... but I don't feel too honorable."
"Honor is a very tricky matter, Sokka," Piandao said. "You might spend your entire life trying to understand it, but moral codes are so strict that even a life spent studying and living upon the demands of honor might not be honorable in the slightest. Alas, it is our very way of carrying ourselves that defines how honorable we are. Are we willing to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of those we love, for the greater good? Will we keep true to our word to the bitter end? Can we acknowledge that we are not perfect, that there are still many lessons we need to learn? Will we respect others as we respect ourselves, accepting and embracing what sets them apart from us? A life led by honor transcends merely following rules, Sokka... a life is only truly led by honor when the person understands what the very essence of honor is."
Sokka stared at him, dumbfounded, and he blinked twice before frowning as he reflected on his master's words.
"Then I guess I should reflect more upon it… because I don't really know what honor is at all."
"The first step will always be to remain humble, Sokka," said Piandao, drinking his tea. "Which is why you're already on the right path to become a better man."
"You said, though, that I was honorable," Sokka muttered. "How am I honorable already, if I hardly can grasp what honor means?"
"Your decision back in the South Pole proved you had a very noble heart, Sokka," Piandao explained. "You sacrificed yourself and gave your allies a chance to flee from a fight they couldn't possibly win. You knew your decision might cause your death, yet you cared more for them and for your people than for yourself."
Sokka blinked blankly once more. He sure didn't think so highly about himself… he hadn't thought at all about his honor ever since he had become a gladiator, of course. It was the most dishonorable thing that could have happened to him…
"But I have killed so many men…" he muttered.
"Yet you regret it," said Piandao. "And that serves as proof that you're not heartless, proof that you're not a killer machine: proof that you're superior to any man who slays another without a second thought. You understand the consequences of death, and perhaps your opponents knew them as well. You honored them by fighting at the best of your skill against them. The winner in a duel of this sort is always the better man."
"I don't think so, sir…" Sokka muttered, staring at his reflection in the green tea he held in his hands. "I was… driven by an insane urge to survive no matter the cost. I'm sorry, but I'm not half as noble as you think I am."
"Well, if you think so lowly of yourself at the moment, then you must devote your life to atone for your sins. You should attempt to live a humble and honorable life to make amends for your wrongdoings," said Piandao, standing up from his seat. "Much like I have."
Sokka's eyes widened as his master smiled down at him kindly. Was Piandao atoning for his crimes? Was he hiding a murky past Sokka knew nothing about…?
"Fat has already arranged your room. He'll take you there when you're ready to tuck in," Piandao told him. "We shall resume your training early in the morning; meanwhile, rest well, Sokka."
"R-right…" said the gladiator, nodding.
Sokka found himself in dire need for rest quite often during the weeks he spent at Piandao's mansion. He ate three courses of meals every day, something he had missed incredibly, but he would burn out all his energy through the routine of exercises Piandao had laid down for him during the first days. He had changed the training routine on the second day of Sokka's stay in his mansion because a warrior required a body as fit as his mind, and Sokka needed to tone up properly to make that happen.
After several days of hard training, his body and mind seemed to be more balanced at last. Piandao decided to keep him exercising his body in the mornings, but now he had him return to painting, calligraphy, garden arranging and a new activity Sokka didn't enjoy at all in these circumstances: fishing.
Any Water Tribe man, being born and raised in the South Pole, would have no problem fishing, but Sokka preferred using spears to catch his prey rather than fishhooks and bait. He had used both means back when he had fished for his family and his tribe, but he thought fishhooks to be considerably ineffective in comparison to spears. Simply put, he was far more skilled with the latter. Yet Piandao had him sit at the riverbank for hours, and whenever Sokka proudly caught a fish, Piandao released it from the hook and set him free in the river once again, to the gladiator's dismay. The first time his master had done this, Sokka had protested, but Piandao's sole response had been a grin as he told him to put the hook into the water once again. Sokka had obeyed him, a pronounced scowl on his face as he wondered what the point of this training exercise was.
A week after Sokka's arrival to Piandao's doorstep, the student sighed as he faced the ink and paper in front of him, struggling to understand what his master's orders had been just now. At times he had asked him to write down only a few ideograms, other times he had requested haiku, but this time…
"How exactly am I supposed to leave my mark on this paper, sir?" he asked, frowning.
Piandao chuckled and walked past him, finally deciding to reveal a small portion of what he had been attempting to teach Sokka in his lessons.
"The purpose of this calligraphy exercise is to stamp your identity in the paper. Write your name, perhaps, if you think that'd be appropriate… but stamp it all the same. Just like you would stamp your identity on the battleground with your sword, just like your enemies have stamped their identity with their own weapons as well."
Sokka frowned. That was a hint he had been waiting to hear for the whole week… He looked at the figure of his master, who wasn't watching him at the moment as he was staring out through the window. The gladiator decided to focus on the paper again and he frowned as he faced it, in deep thought. To stamp his identity on the paper as he would stamp it on the battleground…
His latest fights had all ended in the death of his opponent. He had a few scars here and there, and they were marks left behind by his rivals, the stamp they had left on the battlefield… but his stamp on them had been even more potent, since he had killed them all. Well, not all of them. There was one exception, one opponent he hadn't killed…
He clenched his teeth as he opened his robe and looked down at his abdomen. The burn mark was still there. It wasn't as clear as it had been during the first months after it had been imprinted on his skin, but it was present nonetheless. He touched it, the pain burning into him again. How had he healed from this wound was still a mystery for him… he had received no medical treatment for it. He had thought he would die, judging by the pain… but the burning feeling had subsided slowly, and by now it didn't hurt so much. Sokka followed the mark's trail with his finger, realizing he had been branded by it… Azula had been able to stamp her identity on him with a fistful of fire.
An idea came to his mind right then, and he smirked as he took the brush with his left hand, spreading ink all over his right hand. He pressed his wet hand to the paper, and when he pulled away, he was satisfied.
"I'm done, master!"
Piandao was surprised at such quick and unexpected response. He approached to oversee what Sokka had done and he was left gaping at the man's extravagant take upon this task.
"Well… that seems a very sincere way to brand your identity," said Piandao, nodding. "May I ask how you came to this con-…? Why is your robe open?"
"Oh, I was just… looking at something," said Sokka, smiling with slight guilt. "See, every opponent that managed to brand his identity on me ended up dead… except for one. And that's the mark I'm most bitter about, I guess. You can see clearly the shape of her fist on my skin. I was thinking about it… and I figured I could stamp my identity with my hand too, but I decided to use my palm so that it would be the opposite to what she did, seeing how she and I seem to go against each other on nearly everything."
Piandao raised an eyebrow, a sign Sokka didn't take too well.
"Is something wrong, sir…?" asked Sokka.
"You believe your identity is the opposite of hers…" muttered Piandao, but he shook his head afterwards, deciding to give this more thought later. "Very well, that was a good way to go about this, Sokka. I hope you understand now that none of the activities you've been engaged in is completely independent of the way of the sword. I want you to meditate about this, and to do your best to figure out what I was attempting to teach you through every task I've given you. Use whatever means you need, perhaps rearrange the garden again, or go fishing. You're free to do as you wish, but only for a week. I want an answer by then, and I hope it's a good one."
"I understand, master," said Sokka, bowing down.
Piandao left the room then, thinking now about the way Sokka had branded his identity on the paper. It was oddly unsettling that the man couldn't think of his own life without taking Azula into account… whatever bond he had with her didn't seem right. She was a royal, and even if she hadn't been of noble birth, she was dangerous and deadly. Sokka would either learn this lesson the hard way or he would be wise by detaching himself from the Princess before it was too late…
Sokka decided to follow his master's orders and he tried to reflect upon his training so far, but since he had an entire week he decided to take it easy at first. He repeated Piandao's tasks, although not in the same manner as before. Now he closed his eyes and attempted to understand what he was doing; the main difference about these circumstances was that Piandao wasn't there to keep watch on his every move. He was truly free to do as he wished… He would do his best to use this opportunity to understand the link between these activities and swordsmanship.
But after he was done with rearranging the garden for the fourth time that week, he realized he was missing out on a very important factor to achieve his goal. Fat called him for dinner, and Sokka ate his meal alone, quietly, deep in thought. Before heading to his room he made up his mind about his next step to fulfill the mission Piandao had given him, so he took a detour and found Fat practicing his own calligraphy.
"Excuse me, Fat… where can I get a sword?" asked Sokka.
Fat's hand paralyzed as he stared at Piandao's new pupil with surprise, the ink on his brush dripping all over his fold of paper.
"I… I don't know if the master believes you're ready to have your own weapon," said Fat.
"Oh, it's not like I'm planning to keep it," said Sokka. "I'm only trying to figure out a riddle he gave me. And I think a sword could help me solve it…"
Fat frowned, which Sokka didn't take as a good sign. He sighed, guessing he would have to ask his master for permission to use a sword the next day.
"Never mind," he said, bowing down at Fat. "Good night."
Sokka tucked in while wondering how he'd ask Piandao for a weapon the next day… and with those thoughts, he fell asleep. But when he woke he was pleasantly surprised to discover he wouldn't need to ask anything from his master: there was a magnificent sword placed on top of his room's drawer. Sokka trembled with excitement as he unsheathed the weapon, the silver blade shone when the light touched it.
Only a few hours later, Sokka was sitting in the yard, the sword in front of him. He stared at it for a while, pondering what to do. It was very beautiful. He didn't often think this way about any kind of weapon, since to him they were nothing but instruments to kill… but this blade had been crafted so skillfully by Piandao that Sokka couldn't stop admiring its every detail. The sword was amazing… and he had to be amazing as well. He had to honor the sword he had been given.
He stood up and took the sword with one hand. He attempted to imitate Piandao's movements, for he had witnessed his master training a few times now… but he tripped with a rock as he walked backwards and collapsed hard on the floor. He rubbed his back and hoped nobody had seen something so dumb. Falling just like that because of a silly stone… No, the stone wasn't silly. The silly one was him.
Sokka stood up and stared at the yard he had become accustomed to, realizing he had never really detailed it as much as he should have… he had taken in every detail about the sword, but not about his surroundings.
Suddenly, an answer popped up in his head. Piandao had often taken him to paint the beautiful landscapes of the island, forcing him to look once and draw everything as well as he could by memory. It wasn't easy for him and he had often made ridiculous doodles that made Piandao frown. His intention with that had been to have him take in every detail about the fighting area… the battlefield could be the death of him if his enemy analyzed it better than he did. He took a moment to look around, attempting to keep in mind everything about his surroundings, and he jumped forward with his sword once again, this time with smooth movements.
He felt almost like he was dancing, with movements like these. The sword in his hand was really becoming an extension of his arm, just like Piandao had told him when they had started their training. He closed his eyes as he recalled every rock, every root, every tree, every wall… everything. He jumped atop the bridge that stood over a small pond, still moving his sword slowly, carefully, but with deadly motions. Arranging the garden… it was so he could use his surroundings for his own benefit. He smirked as he jumped over the bridge, landing at the other side swiftly.
The fish that swam in the pond made him recall the task he had despised the most… what had been the purpose of that particular activity? For him to learn patience. A powerful, deadly and potent strike delivered at the right moment would be far more effective than to display a flurry of inefficient, desperate attacks… He smiled and turned around, running towards the other side of the yard again, and he swung his sword upwards, as if to cut his enemy.
"And thus, I stamp my identity on the battlefield." said Sokka, smiling. He finally understood what he had been taught.
"Well done, Sokka," said a familiar voice, making him jump in surprise.
"S-sir!" said Sokka, looking at his master. "I didn't notice you were there… were you watching me?"
"I was," said Piandao, standing on the house's threshold as he stared at Sokka. "From what I could see, you have grasped the knowledge of the true art of the sword, and far quicker than I expected you to. You have impressed me, Sokka. You are almost a true swordsman…"
Sokka's eyes were alight with joy, but Piandao hadn't finished.
"But there's one wrong thing about what you've done so far," he said, and Sokka's enthusiasm faded. He guessed his movements had been really clumsy… well, he was here to learn after all. Piandao was to tell him what he was doing wrong, and he would abide by every teaching he gave him.
"What was it, sir?" he asked.
Piandao approached with his eyes settled upon Sokka… but suddenly, they went down to the sword in his hand.
"You honored the blade you were given with your every move, but that is not the ideal sword for you, Sokka."
Sokka blinked, surprised. He was certain his master would criticize his fighting style rather than his weapon…
"What's the problem with this sword, sir?" asked the gladiator.
"Its balance isn't the adequate one for you. It's too short and you would be far more comfortable with a handle fit for you" said Piandao. "It is a good sword… but it's not good for you. You need a better weapon."
"Will you give me another one of yours, then?" asked Sokka.
"Oh, no…" said Piandao, smiling. "You will be making your own blade, Sokka."
His eyes grew wide in surprise and joy. He hadn't seen this development coming at all.
The sword Master took him down to his workshop, located in the basement of his grand mansion. After briefly explaining to his pupil the procedures of forging a blade, he presented Sokka with the available materials, blocks of different kinds of metals with weights and properties unique to each of them. But Sokka wasn't convinced by any of the available metals.
"I see you don't seem to like any of them," said Piandao. "Do you have anything better in mind?"
"Well, I…" Sokka's mind suddenly flashed back to the day he had arrived on the island. That strange black rock… he smiled at the thought. "I think I do. Can I get my own material to make my sword?"
"I would most definitely approve of that," said Piandao, grinning.
Not too long afterwards, Sokka had led his master all the way to where the black rock stood, several yards from the town. Piandao nodded, understanding.
"This is a meteorite, Sokka. I am surprised to see you wish to use such unusual and rare material… yet I find it very appropriate."
"You think?" Sokka asked, smiling. "Wait… a meteorite?! You mean this thing came from space?!"
"It fell here a few years ago," Piandao explained. "And it brought a great fire with it. The few firebenders in town did their best to contain it, and after several hours of struggling, they succeeded. Grass has grown in the burned terrains, but the surroundings of the stone are still scorched, as you can see… I find this to be a good choice, Sokka. I hope you can craft a great sword with it."
"Me too," Sokka said, nodding. "But… how are we going to move this all the way to the workshop?"
"I guess you will have to be creative," Piandao said, grinning.
Not too long after, Sokka found himself with a hammer in hand and a nail in the other, breaking the black stone into fragments. Fat aided him while Piandao watched. Once they had torn the stone to shards, they carried its remains all the way to the castle inside thick bags, and it took them several trips to bring the entire rock to the workshop. They selected the best shards and set them to melt inside a very powerful oven of Piandao's, and so, the forging of the sword began.
After a whole night of waiting for the metal to be melted, Piandao instructed Sokka on his next procedures. He repeatedly folded the metal he would be using for the core of the sword, and afterwards he folded two other layers, which were joined together with the material of the core, assembling the blade of the jian sword Piandao had guided Sokka into making. They had also built the sword's handle and sheath, and sooner than the gladiator expected, Piandao presented him the finished product: his very own sword.
Sokka extracted it from its scabbard and marveled at the black blade in front of him. It seemed to fit him really well, this space sword…
"You are now a swordsman, a true warrior," Piandao stated, smiling.
"Thank you for everything you've done for me, sir," Sokka said, grinning as well. "I would never be where I am if it weren't for you…"
"Ah, but you still are far from reaching your full potential," said Piandao, smirking. "Do you think this is all the extent of your training?"
"Uh…" Sokka said, blinking. "I guess not, but then… what am I going to do now?"
Piandao raised a hand, and Fat threw a sword at him, surprising Sokka. Piandao unsheathed it and smiled at Sokka, his silver blade shining.
"Now it's time for the real training to begin."
Sokka thought it was too much of an honor to fight against his master in this manner, and he was also certain he wouldn't win, but he hadn't been this eager to spar with someone in over two years. He smiled and took his stance, getting ready to face his master…
The weeks between her reunion with Sokka and his eventual fight against Chan's gladiator felt extremely slow to Azula. She kept browsing the rulebook of gladiator battles, making sure she wasn't breaking any of the established parameters by entering the Superior League. And indeed, she found no prohibitions either for women or royal family members to become sponsors of gladiators… so there was no reason for her to be rejected when she was ready to enroll Sokka into the Superior Gladiator League.
The rules were more complex than she had imagined they'd be, especially in what concerned the fighters' ranking. Apparently they were ranked depending on the amount of points they earned after a battle; Azula had believed the order of gladiators was simply established over who won or lost most battles. It probably was that way in the Amateur League, but not here… for a split second she wondered if she knew what she had gotten herself into, but she brushed the thought aside quickly. Of course she knew: she was Princess Azula of the Fire Nation. There was no way some gladiator league would be beyond her.
She hadn't been able to write Sokka into the tournament as soon as she returned to the Capital even when she had intended to do so. There were no vacancies amongst the 500 slots of professional gladiators allowed to participate in the league at the moment. Azula didn't despair, though. Her father had given her a month to finish her endeavor, and within one month there was an average of ten discharged gladiators, according to the data she had been browsing. Gladiators who didn't participate in any fights for three months, or those who had a loss streak of twenty fights, would be out of the system. They were allowed to return a year afterwards, but not many sponsors would be willing to pay for a gladiator who had been depurated from the ranking once before.
The morning after her trip to Piandao's island, Azula had sent a member of her Royal Guard to the Capital's Arena, to see if there was an available slot for her gladiator. He had returned to inform her that the depuration would be effected in two weeks, and, according to the man he had spoken to, nine or ten slots would likely be cleared out by then. Azula had been waiting for that day to come as patiently as she could, but it had proved to be harder than she imagined. Her mind kept drifting to Shu Jing, Piandao's island, as she wondered if her gladiator was faring well, if he would be a proper fighter by the time they met again…
One of the activities she got engaged in while she waited to register Sokka as a gladiator was heading into the royal blacksmith's workshop, tasking him with the job of manufacturing Sokka's new attire for battle. He had left his old armor from the amateur arena in the Palace, and through it she had been able to provide the blacksmith with her gladiator's measurements. By remembering their first encounter, Azula had decided she wanted his helmet and clothing to be very similar to what he had worn back when he was still amongst his tribe, and so she had handed the blacksmith the design for the outfit she had in mind. The result satisfied her when she was called, two weeks later, to see the finished product: the armor was blue and very light. The blacksmith had also developed a gray helmet with the shape of a wolf, just as Azula had asked him to. She had smiled, pleased, as she thought he would definitely deserve the name of the Blue Wolf with this new outfit.
After obtaining Sokka's new armor, she sent the same member of the Royal Guard to discover if there were any openings in the ranking yet. He returned with a positive answer, and he urged her to hurry since apparently there were only a few slots left by now. She had boarded her Royal Palanquin and had her men carry her all the way to The Grand Royal Dome, the official name of the Capital's Arena.
To Azula's satisfaction, the trip didn't take much time. She got off the palanquin and walked inside the tall building, which was far more majestic than Hui Yi's amateur arena. The walls were red and golden, very similar to the Royal Palace, and the lobby was at least ten times bigger than the one in Hui Yi. Staircases covered by magnificent red carpets led the spectators towards the stands, and they also led sponsors to the balconies from where they watched the fight. Azula was well acquainted with the building already, for she had been in The Grand Royal Dome a few times before. The name struck her as untruthful, seeing how no royal had ever been involved in the gladiator business… until now. Perhaps the Arena's name would become more accurate from now on…
She looked for a counter like the one from Hui Yi's Arena, and she spotted one at the left wing of the vestibule. It was given away by the eloquent board behind it where the daily fights had been scribbled across with a very handsome writing; the board also had the top ten fighters of the ranking with their respective earned points. Most the names weren't familiar, but she was certain that by the time she was completely immersed in the business she would begin telling each gladiator apart… for now, though, she only had to focus on getting Sokka registered.
A man a few years younger than Azula sat across a counter, writing something on a paper. Azula guessed he was handling the bids, but when she looked properly, she realized he was updating the gladiator ranking, adding the data of someone called 'The Murderous Serpent' in the 491st position. She cleared her throat and he looked up. A tag on his chest revealed his name to be Shoji. Why did he wear a tag, she had no idea, but she assumed it was the protocol for workers of the Arena.
"Wha…? P-Princess Azula!" he exclaimed, setting aside the ranking as he gaped at her with surprise. "To what do we owe this honor?"
"Are you the one who registers new gladiators?" Azula asked, heading straight to the point.
"Yes, I am," he said, nodding slowly as he realized what her words meant. "Wait, are you… by any chance, will you…?"
"Yes, I have come here to enroll my own gladiator into the Superior League. Is there any reason why I shouldn't be allowed to do this?"
"W-well, not really…" said Shoji, tapping his fingers together. "There are no rules establishing a royal cannot sponsor a Gladiator, but it might be a little unfair…"
"If it were, there would be a rule would prevent the unfairness, don't you think?" Azula said, and the man shrugged, smiling positively.
"You must be right about that. Very well, please fill this form…" said Shoji, handing her paper, ink and a brush "… and after you're done, your gladiator will be inside the ranking. He will be in the last positions right now, but once he begins fighting he will rise through the ranking…"
"Or fall down through it, for all we know," muttered Azula, taking the paper and filling it immediately. "I have some questions to make, but I'll ask once I'm done with this."
"You are free to ask anything you want to know," said Shoji, smiling. He tried his best to keep a calm façade as he watched the Princess writing the pertinent information on the paper, but deep down he was truly nervous. Never had he imagined he would have a chance to talk to a member of the Royal Family…
Azula wrote down all the information regarding herself, the sponsor, on the first section of the form, and moved down to the next one, the one that concerned her gladiator. She wrote in his fighting name, The Blue Wolf, and moved down onto his specialization. Shoji was surprised to see Azula checking the slot that corresponded to a non-bender and he wondered why a Princess would have a non-bending gladiator. She probably could afford sponsoring some of the greatest fighters in the business, and those would be the firebenders or the earthbenders, not the non-benders…
"I have a problem," she stated suddenly, Shoji jumped as he realized he had been letting his mind wander as Azula continued filling her form. "I don't know for certain what my gladiator's weapons of choice are. I have seen a few of them, but I don't know them all for certain."
Shoji looked at the paper. When the fighter was a non-bender, the sponsor had to specify ten weapons his gladiator was likely to use in battle.
"Oh… well, you're the Princess, I can make an exception and accept the form anyway. As soon as you know what his weapons are, you'll be free to write them in," said Shoji, smiling and blushing slightly. "Is that okay with you?"
"I would appreciate that," Azula stated, and she returned to the remaining questions on the form. She signed it when she was done and handed it to Shoji. "Why the weapon limit, though?"
"Despite the fact that benders often have the advantage over non-benders, it was decided by the creators of the business that non-benders who were taking part in the fights should have a limited number of weapons. After all, firebenders only have fire, and earthbenders only have earth."
"It makes some sense…" agreed Azula, nodding.
"Also, you should know that your gladiator, seeing as he's a non-bender, will only be allowed to bring five weapons at most with him when he's fighting," Shoji explained. "It's simply because carrying ten weapons on him while battling might drag him down. He can select which of the five weapons he'll use out of the list of ten that were written in his form… well, in your case, the ten that will be written in his form," he added, smiling at Azula.
"I understand," Azula said. "Very well, then… with this, is my gladiator already in the system?"
"Yes" said Shoji, grinning "I shall write him in on the latest open slot…" and thus, he wrote in The Blue Wolf right under The Murderous Snake in the list he had been working on earlier, writing he was a male non-bender on the pertinent slots, and also adding Princess Azula as his sponsor.
"Good," said Azula, feeling a sense of accomplishment as her plan slowly came into place… "Now then, when will my gladiator have his first fight?"
"That is up to you, Princess," said Shoji, putting the list aside for a moment. "You can issue out a challenge to any gladiator and sponsor right away, if you're compelled to do that. You might get challenged someday too, but that doesn't happen often when a gladiator is brand new. You must make your way up in the ranking and eventually challenges will be knocking at your door!"
"I see…" Azula said, thoughtful. "Very well, then. I wish to challenge someone."
"Oh… that's great, Princess," said Shoji, smiling as he handed her the list. "Here are all the registered fighters with their respective specializations and sponsors. Choose whoever you like."
"Do you know all these fighters?" Azula asked, taking the list and eyeing Shoji.
"I know them all roughly," said Shoji, shrugging. "Not all of them fight here, you see. There are Arenas all over the Fire Nation and the Colonies, and many of these combatants don't fight here but at their sponsors' town."
"I see…" Azula said, as she began reading the list. She frowned as she looked at the first name, surprised by how ridiculous it sounded "Combustion Man? Who on earth came up with such a ridiculous nickname…?"
Shoji cleared his throat and pointed at the name of the man's sponsor. Azula's eyebrow twitched as she read the name.
"Admiral Zhao did," said Shoji, smiling a little. "I thought it was ridiculous too when I heard it, since I was only starting on this job when the Admiral signed him up, but I've been hearing so many stupid names lately that Combustion Man sounds really nice now."
Azula sighed as she glared at Admiral Zhao's name. She wasn't too surprised to discover the man sponsored the top gladiator of the ranking… well, maybe one day she would face him and teach him not to underestimate her ever again by having Sokka defeat and humiliate his poorly named Combustion Man. She carried on reading the list, and she kept wincing at the names. Each one was worse than the one before.
"What's with this? The Twilight Drilled-Bamboo Bear?" she asked. "What is that supposed to mean, if it means anything to begin with?"
"I have no idea, Princess," said Shoji, shrugging.
"And this… this is weird," she said when the name of #146 caught her eye. "Kyoshi's Heir? Are there still people out there who worship Avatars?"
"I think so…" said Shoji, tapping on the table. "That one is a pretty decent fighter, you know? She's battled some really tough benders and come out triumphant…"
Azula was surprised to hear this. So Kyoshi's Heir was an Avatar believer, a woman and a non-bender, according to what she was reading… Well, if there was a non-bender within the top 150 fighters, Sokka had some hope after all. She continued reading through the list, focusing on sponsors rather than on the gladiators now until she found the name she had been looking for… and she restrained herself from letting out an exclamation of pride when she found it.
"So… what can you tell me about this gladiator, The Spawn of the Volcano?" she asked, the name coming off as one of the most ridiculous ones so far.
"Oh, as you can see, he's a firebender," said Shoji, pointing at the list. "He's a tough guy, most of the time. He's been falling down through the ranking as of late, though. His sponsor is Admiral Chan's son, as you can see…"
Yes, she could see. It was the only thing she had cared to see, to be honest.
"And… is he a talented firebender?"
"He's decent, not really outstanding. Else he would be higher in the ranking, I think" said Shoji, smiling.
"Very well, then. I will have my gladiator fight this one. Send Chan's son my challenge" said Azula, authoritarian. Shoji jumped, surprised.
"W-wait! But he's #234! That's really high! Wouldn't you rather fight someone in the range of 400?"
"I said I wanted my gladiator to fight this man," Azula grunted, her eyes ablaze. "I have the confidence we'll achieve victory."
"W-well… if you're so certain of it, who am I to oppose you?" Shoji asked, gulping. He sure hoped the Princess knew what she was signing up for… he opened a folder and pulled out the form to issue out a challenge. "The Spawn of the Volcano fights in The Ember Crater, Ember Island's Arena. Do you wish to travel all the way there or would you rather ask him to come here?"
Azula frowned, thoughtful. She had no problem with heading into Ember Island… it was likely Chan would accept blindly when he knew this was Sokka's first fight, and if they were willing to travel all the way to Ember Island surely he wouldn't refuse the challenge… she had good odds, or at least, she thought she did. The jerk was still bound to refuse the challenge, but goading his ego might be the best way to make him accept this fight…
"I have no qualms with traveling to Ember Island," she declared, and Shoji smiled.
"Very well…" he said, filling up the challenge carefully. "How much will you bid?"
Azula had forgotten completely about bids. In the Superior Gladiator League the sponsors would bet against each other, and whoever claimed triumph would bring a lot of money home. The spectators would still place their bets against the house, but the sponsors had a direct spat against one another. Azula sighed, not really caring about the money. If she had to pay to Chan, it would mean her entire plan had failed and she probably wouldn't have anything else to do with the Gladiator Business … but if she could take away his money, as well as his pride and his arranged marriage, she would effectively tear down the fool and leave him at his lowest point… and she was rather fond of that idea.
"Write down fifty thousand yuans," she said, Shoji's mouth fell open comically.
"F-f-fifty…? Oh, right… y-you're the Princess…" he said, smiling uncomfortably as he wrote in the bet. "The fights normally take place a week after the challenge is issued, but the sponsors can schedule the fight on any given day they choose. You will get an answer to the challenge about two days from now from the other sponsor. Are you okay with this?"
"I have no problem with it. In fact, it's perfect," said Azula, nodding.
"Very well then, everything is set. This will be sent out to Ember Island right away by Messenger Hawk" said Shoji, placing the paper in the stack of challenges he had to ship off today. Azula nodded in approval.
"Very well. I wish to know, will any messages or challenges with me as the receiver be shipped directly to my home?"
"Not really, they're sent to the Arena that's closest to your location… in your case, here," said Shoji. "You can check in every two or three days if you have any correspondence; if anyone issues out an urgent challenge I'll make sure you get it right away."
"Good," said Azula. "Well, I shall take my leave now, I believe. I thank you for being so helpful. I'll be seeing you around, I assume…"
"Yes, you will see me here all the time," said Shoji, smiling. "Good luck against Chan's son!"
Azula smiled and nodded, grateful, and she turned around, ready to leave the lobby just as a very tall man with long, greasy black hair headed towards Shoji's desk. A short girl with gray eyes, black hair and pale skin walked next to him. Azula only caught sight of them for a moment, since she was walking on the opposite direction, but she only had to see them from the corner of her eye to realize their clothing was customary for Earth Kingdom folk. So they were probably Honorary Fire Nation citizens… she wondered if people would often head into the Arena with their gladiator in that manner, as if they were of equal standing… but she stopped in her thoughts when she began wondering which of both would be the gladiator and which would be the sponsor…
"Uh… how may I help you?" she heard Shoji say.
"I'm here to sign up my gladiator," said the man, making Azula frown. So he was the sponsor… and the girl the gladiator? No way. She was probably his daughter or niece; it made no sense otherwise…
"Right, um… here you have your form, fill it out…" said Shoji.
"You can write it yourself, can't you?" the man insisted. "Come on, we don't have all day."
Azula was still able to overhear the conversation despite she didn't care much for it. She heard Shoji comply with the man's wishes, although she didn't understand what the young man said anymore. Still, the tall fellow's voice tone was so loud it was almost as if he wanted the whole world to hear he was enrolling his gladiator.
"I'm Xin Fu, and my gladiator's called The Blind Bandit!"
Azula had been wondering to what extent people would go with all those random nicknames for their gladiators, and now she discovered there were no limits at all. The Blind Bandit? Was the gladiator really blind, or was he only using the name for show? It sounded plain stupid to her…
The matter vanished from her head as she walked outside, headed towards the palanquin that awaited her. As she took another step, reality struck her… she was getting closer and closer to her goal. She was about to destroy that wretched arranged marriage and ruin Chan's life by doing so… but she could only make it if Sokka was strong enough to beat The Spawn of the Volcano. Would he be ready to fight a firebender? Just how advanced would his training be by the time they reunited?
She couldn't help but worry, but she had already done everything in her power to keep the odds to her favor. Right now, the only thing she could do was believe in Sokka as she waited for the day when they would meet again...