CHAPTER 3 - P'LI

As she got older, the episodes had gotten worse and worse.

She used to have about a week and a half every month of clarity and quiet time near the river. But as more birthdays passed that week and a half grew smaller and smaller. Even on the days she could sit up without a headache, her body felt crowded, and irritated, and restless.

And her firebending was only growing more and more dangerous. Once, on what she thought was one of her good days, an episode caused her to destroy one of her father's barns. A small, but not negligible portion of their family's harvest had been lost overnight, and although they didn't speak about it with her, she felt their disappointment and panic growing with every day.

She was getting out of control. Even through the red fog, she felt this with surety. Something had to give.

And then Lord Kaito had come.

She must have been eleven. Her body had been racked with fever for a week, but her mother was needed for the harvest, so most days she had to fend for herself. She spent her time falling into troubled sleep, waking every few hours to drag her way over to the bucket of water that sat in the corner. Drinking from it like a dog before lying back on the bamboo mats that covered the floor.

The day the fever broke, she had pulled a blanket around her small body and limped out into the kitchen, hoping to make some tea. Her parents were supposed to be hard at work in the field, so she was surprised to see them both seated at their kitchen table.

Across from them sat a man in dark red robes. P'li could tell just by looking at them that they were expensive — they were made from a heavy material, and the hem swirled with gold thread. He was tall, even sitting down, and had a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were dark, and P'li felt herself shudder without realizing it.

A man in similarly-colored garb (but dressed in a more simple and practical looking tunic and armor, complete with helmet) stood by the door, back straight.

The man at the table looked casual, but P'li could feel the tension in the room. Her father's arms were crossed, and her mother's hands were clenched into fists under the table. As they looked her way, she became aware of her disheveled appearance — dark circles under her eyes from sleepless nights, skin pale and wan, the blanket clutched around her like a cloak.

The man's eyes met hers. "This must be P'li."

"Yes, this is my first daughter. My sparrowkeet, go back to your room." She could tell her mother was trying to keep her voice neutral, but there was an underlay of anxiety she couldn't ignore. "I'll bring you some tea and porridge in a minute."

The man held up a hand. "No, please, keep her here. After all, she is who we're discussing." His voice was bright, as if he were telling a joke, but what he said was nothing less than a command. He turned towards her again, and P'li felt suddenly uneasy. His gaze was searching. "P'li, I am Lord Kaito. How are you feeling? I understand you've been sick for the past few days."

P'li nodded awkwardly in what she hoped was an adequate bow. She had never met a Lord before. "I'm feeling alright." Her voice was scratchy from disuse. She cleared it, and realized she was desperately thirsty.

"In fact, if I understand correctly," he spoke as if she hadn't said anything at all. "you've been sick for more than the past few days. The fevers you get — how long have had them?"

P'li looked desperately at her mother, and she picked up on the cue.

"P'li has had fevers ever since she was a baby."

Her father chimed in. "No medicine helps. We took her to see a Water Tribe healer once, and she said something about blocked energy — but waterbending medicine is so expensive, and she couldn't be sure that her skills could help."

"I see." He didn't take his eyes off her. "Well, I should be direct. I believe I know what's wrong with your daughter, and I think I can help her."

"Help her? How?" P'li saw her mother's fingers twist into her skirt. "As you've heard, no medicine helps."

"The problem is not with her body, but with her energy, as the waterbender told you. P'li's chi is blocked up inside her, and can only release in sudden fits — her seizures, that you mentioned before. There have been other cases, but P'li's is one of the most severe I've ever seen before."

"Then what can we do?" Her father seemed much more eager than her mother.

"There is a process. Which takes me to my point in coming here." He folded his hands on top of the table. "Let me take your daughter on as an apprentice. I can teach her to harness her energy, and unblock her own chi. More than that, I can give her education, training — I can help her rise through the ranks. She wouldn't have to be a farmer's daughter."

"No." Her mother said immediately.

"Vera—"

"No." Her mother said, louder. "She belongs here, with her family. I don't care if she is only a farmer's daughter." She spat the words with heavy sarcasm. "She is my daughter."

"And what will you do when she gets older?" Lord Kaito's voice had suddenly grown cutting. "As her firebending gets more and more out of control? Continue to keep her locked up? Throw her into the lake every time she has a seizure?"

"She belongs here." Her mother repeated, but it sounded fainter than before.

"She is dying here." Kaito's voice rose. "You are letting your daughter suffer when I could cure her. Please, look at her." He gestured, and P'li looked down, feeling ashamed, but not knowing why. "She is wasting away. Her fevers and fits will only get worse, and she will die before she reaches adulthood."

Die. P'li felt surprised at how little she feared the word. There was even the faintest sense of relief (no more pain), but she immediately squashed the thought, terrified of what it meant.

Her mother leapt to her feet, knocking her chair over. "I won't let you take her."

"My love." Her father pushed himself up, trying to take her arm. She wrenched it from his grip. "Please. Listen to him."

"I am listening to him."

"No, you're not. I love P'li as much as you do. But we would have to hate her to keep her here when what we've wanted for so long — a cure — is right in front of us. And he can offer her so much that we can't." He tried to take her hand again and this time she let him. "We have no choice."

They were speaking as if she wasn't in the room with them. P'li realized with alarm that her mother's resolve was weakening. "I—"

"Listen to your husband." Lord Kaito's voice was soothing now. "I can give your daughter life again."

Everyone in the room seemed to hold her breath as P'li's mother closed her eyes. Except Lord Kaito. Again, he looked at her.

P'li realized why his eye contact made her so nervous. He was looking at her as if she was something in a museum, or a zoo. She averted her eyes and drew the blanket tighter, as if it could protect her.

Finally, her mother opened her eyes. "Okay." She said. "But I have some conditions."

"We can work out some arrangement, I'm sure." His delight couldn't be hidden. He didn't take his eyes off P'li. "But don't worry. I just know I can help your daughter."