Chapter 12: Whistling

Hanjo's attempts to focus were interrupted by the sound of clattering metal and opening doors. He tried to act bored. His attempts at meditating into the Spirit World would have to wait for now. The prison keeper was coming.

Dragging his feet as usual, Tan Lung brought Hanjo one of his daily meals. Contrary to the popular perception of a musty prison, Hanjo was actually well-fed. That was apparently entirely Tan Lung's doing; he didn't believe in mistreating his prisoners.

"So what's the news today, Tan Lung," Hanjo said. Conversation was rare in the prison, but occasionally Hanjo gleaned useful information from his prison keeper. Tan Lung closely followed the attacks on the Energybender bases in the Earth Kingdom; he had, after all, been there with Rahm and Dahak when the combustion bender had been freed. He felt almost personally responsible for her current actions.

"Nothing worth mentioning," Tan Lung said. That was a lie. Miyani's attacks had grown so frequent and intense that the Energybender was considering completely uprooting his operation and moving south. Hanjo didn't need to know that, though.

"Not much on my end, as you can imagine," Hanjo joked. "I saw a colorful bug the other day."

"You should catch them," Tan Lung suggested. "Having a hobby helps to pass the time."

"I'd prefer a deck of cards to a bug collection," Hanjo said.

"Wouldn't we all," Tan Lung sighed.

Hanjo frowned. Tan Lung had a pervasive aura of depression around him. He hated what he was doing.

"How did you end up working for Sarin?"

Tan Lung laughed, and there was a hollow rattling noise in his chest as he did so.

"A friend of a friend recruited me," Tan Lung replied. "But I suppose what you really want to know is why, not how, I work for him."

"I suppose you're right," Hanjo admitted.

"I could explain, but you would not understand," Tan Lung said mournfully. "You have not seen war and suffering as I have seen it. Freeing the world of anger and pain… That is worth any sacrifice. I make no excuses for what Sarin has done. I only hope it will be worth it."

Hanjo stood up and looked at Tan Lung through the bars of his cell.

"It won't be," Hanjo assured him. "The Avatar is going to win."

The blood ran out of Tan Lung's face, leaving him looking pale and cold. The veteran left in silence, dragging his feet behind him as he went.

Alone once again, Hanjo shook his head sadly and returned to the sparse mattress that served as his bed. He laid on his back and tried to focus on moving between the worlds. It was surprisingly easy for him. He couldn't quite remember how he had first broken through the planes; it seemed to come naturally to him. He didn't dwell on it much. Anything that let Hanjo see Sen was a good thing.

As usual, Hanjo found himself right in the middle of something. At least it was just a training exercise and not some disaster. Hanjo moved to say hello, but Whistler shot him down first.

"No interruptions," She snapped. "Sen's training."

Hanjo reluctantly stepped aside and let Sen focus on his training. Sen didn't really want to be distracted anyway, not even by Hanjo. Airbending was hard enough without interruptions.

Sen thrust his fist forward, mustering barely more than a stiff breeze. He well understood the physical and spiritual aspects of airbending; Sen simply could not put himself in the correct mindset to really master the art. He was plagued by his frustration, his failure to deal with Rahm, the Fogbender, and the Hssk. The constant parade of unconquerable obstacles made it impossible for Sen to achieve the proper disconnection of mind necessary to airbend. His repeated failures only exacerbated that frustration, and slowed his progress even further.

"What's holding you back this time, Four Eyes?"

By far the worst of it all was Whistler. He could at least run away from his other enemies. But Whistler was always there, hanging over his shoulder with another biting remark.

"It's nothing," Sen grumbled. "I'll try again."

And he did, again and again and again, with nothing to show for it but a gust of wind and sore shoulders. After suffering through enough of these failures, Sen finally relented with a heavy sigh, falling to the ground in defeat.

"Buck up, buttercup," Whistler said. "I'll make an airbender out of you one day, or my name isn't Whistler."

"Your name isn't Whistler," Suda chimed in. He had been relaxing on the sidelines up to now.

"What do you think gives you the right to say what my name is?"

"Common sense," Suda said. He crossed his legs casually. "If your name was actually Whistler, the Airbenders would've known right away it was you committing all those crimes back in Republic City. They didn't. Whistler is just some nickname you chose to sound tough."

"I-" Whistler started to say something, then hesitated. Sen felt a brief moment of confusion from her, which then coalesced into anger.

"Okay, yeah, so the Bald Brigade called me something else," Whistler admitted. True, the airbenders had known her by another name, but they had also thought she was a kind, well-behaved little girl. They'd been wrong on both counts. "But my name is Whistler."

"Your nickname is Whistler," Suda corrected.

"Would you-"

"Lay off, Suda," Sen said. "She can call herself whatever she wants."

Whistler gave Sen a strange look. She was surprised to hear any sympathetic words from him. Sen stood up, brushed the dust off his legs, and sat down next to Hanjo.

"I mean, hey, my name might not actually be Sen."

"Excuse me?"

Sen stared wistfully off into the distance. Hanjo gave him a curious look.

"I don't know, I just don't have any proof, you know? There's no documents about me, I've got no family. People barely ever said my name back at the orphanage. Sen is just something I remember being called."

"That's a little depressing," Ada said.

"Don't get me wrong, Sen is definitely my name," Sen said. "It's what all my friends call me. But maybe it's not what my parents, whoever they were, called me."

There was a palpable sense of awkwardness around the camp. Of all five people sitting together on the stony soil of the Spirit World, only Ada had a happy history behind her. Lingering on the past was not a popular subject, least of all with Suda. Of all of them, he had most reason to regret his past, and it showed. He quickly worked to change the subject.

"Okay, so I get the name thing, I guess," He said awkwardly. "But why Whistler? Where did that come from?"

"On account of I can whistle really good," Whistler said, likewise happy to change the subject. She demonstrated her namesake talent by whistling an upbeat tune. The sharp whistling was surprisingly catchy.

The high-pitched tune was suddenly undercut by a slight rumble in the soil. Gun was intently seeking out the source of the music, and he pressed his massive nose directly into Whistler's spine as he searched for the source of the appealing tune. She quickly recoiled from his touch, which only prompted Gun to emerge from the ground completely and follow her.

"Aww, look at that," Sen said sarcastically. "Gun likes your music."

Ada sighed. She'd been in this group for more than a year and Gun wouldn't even look her way, but all Whistler has to do is whistle a little tune and Gun starts to hunt her down. She felt unwanted.

"I don't want him to like me," Whistler said. "Tell him to lay off."

Whistler tried to push the great furry beast away, but Gun was much larger and stronger, and that accomplished little. She then pulled out her metal staff and bonked Gun on the head. If she had done so with a rock, Gun's aggressive instincts would have kicked in, and he very likely would have eaten her, but badgermoles didn't really have a reaction to metal. The only person it offended was Sen.

"Hey, don't hit my badgermole," Sen commanded.

"Then tell him to get off me," Whistler said. She tried to move away, and Gun followed again. She raised her staff to take another swat at Gun, but she never finished her blow. The earth beneath her feet lurched and set her off balanced before she could hit Gun on the head again. Gun sniffed her curiously as she collapsed in the dirt.

"I told you not to hit him," Sen said.

"Is that how we're going to do this," Whistler said. "Are we going to be throwing down?"

"I don't want to fight you, Whistler, I just don't want you to commit animal abuse."

"No, you could've asked nicely if you wanted me to stop," Whistler said. She pulled herself off the dirt and leaned on her staff. "But you knocked me over. You wanted to push me around."

"This is not an issue, Whistler," Sen said dismissively.

"It's a little bit of an issue," Whistler retaliated.

"Oh, just beat her up, Sen, at least it'll get her to shut up," Suda said.

"I am not going to fight her," Sen protested.

"Oh yes you are," Whistler said.

The first wave of air sailed harmlessly above Sen's head as he ducked to dodge it. The second struck him in the back, knocking him off his feet and sending him rolling across the ground.

"Just think of it as airbending practice," Whistler said coldly. "Try and beat me with just your airbending."

Sen rolled to his side, propping himself up on his knees. Whistler spun her staff threateningly. She was purposefully giving him time to retaliate. She wanted him to fight. Sen supposed it wasn't a complete waste of time. There were a few things he wanted to test.

"Fine, if you want a fight, you've got it," He said.

Sen and Whistler began to circle each other, waiting for an opening. Hanjo looked between the two, somewhat confused.

"Is anybody going to stop this?"

"I don't really see the point," Ada said. "They'll just fight again later."

"Yeah, and it's not like Sen is actually going to get hurt," Suda said.

"Oh just watch me," Whistler bragged, briefly turning her eyes to Suda.

"You should be watching yourself," Suda suggested. Whistler snapped her eyes forward a second too late. Sen's first boulder hit her in the gut, pushing her backwards.

Whistler recovered, but it didn't do much for her. As soon as she was back on her feet, Sen pushed her back with sweeping blows of fire, constantly forcing her to be on the retreat. Whistler eventually mustered enough strength to stand her ground and defend herself, but she was still on the back foot.

Whistler's ego had briefly gotten the better of her, and she had forgotten that her opponent was the Avatar. Though his airbending was barely a factor, Sen had mastered earth and fire, and his ability to sense vibrations in the soil and read chi gave him an information advantage on top of his superior skills. Whistler was no pushover, and she did manage to hold her own, but it was clear to everyone that Sen was the superior fighter.

"This is hardly fair," She protested. "You got two elements and I only got one!"

Suddenly and surprisingly, Sen relented. His assaults of fire and earth stopped, and he held out his hands, beckoning Whistler to try and retaliate. Sen's first question had been answered; even without airbending, he was still stronger than Whistler. Now came his second question.

"Alright, come on then," Sen said. "You and me, airbending only."

Whistler hesitated. This was a blatant and obvious trap. Sen's airbending was barely existent, but he was confidently challenging Whistler to a one-on-one airbending duel. This had to be some kind of trick. Whistler stayed on guard.

When the brawl resumed, Whistler made sure to keep her distance, staying far away from Sen. Sen chased after her, but Whistler's airbending enabled her to always stay one step ahead. She didn't seen what Sen was trying to accomplish. He was just wearing himself out. He had no way of catching up to her. As soon as she had established her lead, she started lobbing attacks at Sen, knocking him to and fro with tactical bursts of air.

After a few minutes of tossing Sen around at her leisure, she began to wonder what his plan was. He hadn't shown any signs that he was going to change course or try some kind of surprise attack. He was just standing around and taking her blows. The one thing he made sure to do was keep an eye on her at all times. No matter how Whistler struck Sen, he always had his eyes on her, always watching her every move.

Whistler froze, and relented in her assault, giving Sen a moment to breathe just to see what he would do with it. Sen stretched a few aching muscles, but never quite stopped staring at Whistler.

"Are you done yet?"

Sen took a deep breath, and then nodded his head. He relaxed and sat down, surprisingly at ease given what had just happened. Whistler was confused.

"Okay, so what was all that about, then?

"I wanted to see if you'd actually hurt me. You didn't. Good job," Sen said. He often found himself wondering whether he could trust Whistler or not. By demonstrating restraint, Whistler had earned at least a little bit of his trust –if not his fondness. He still didn't like her very much, but at least he knew that she wouldn't go out of her way to hurt him.

Whistler squinted at him.

"That was a test?"

"Kind of. If it was, you passed."

Whistler carefully took hold of her staff and kicked her feet in the dirt for a while as she made up her mind. Sen watched the options boil over in her head until she came to a conclusion.

Quite suddenly, Whistler grabbed her staff like a javelin and chucked it at Sen. With little time or room to react, Sen was forced to bear the impact of the metal rod right in the center of his chest. He bent over, wheezing for breath and clutching at his ribs.

"How's that for not wanting to hurt you," Whistler said.

The most confusing part of it all is that Whistler still didn't want to hurt him. Sen could see that she felt guilty for having done that. She wasn't quite repressing it, to be exact; she was actively ignoring the guilt. Whistler could plainly hear the voice of her conscience, she simply didn't listen to it.

"Now get a move on," Whistler commanded. "We stay in one place too long and that fog thing is going to catch up to us."

Still clutching his bruised chest, Sen followed Whistler's lead.