Warning: This chapter includes descriptions of violence, bloodbending, and animal abuse.

Chapter 64: Unveiled

The moon still lounged in the sky as Sokka awoke with a start, inexplicably alarmed and vigilant. The space beside him was only moderately cold, indicating she hadn't left too long ago.

"Yue…" He rolled out of bed in a rush of adrenalin, almost toppling down in the throes of numbing drowsiness. It was strange; he had slept quite deeply even if for a short time, racked with the struggle to properly shrug the slumber out of his system.

"Yue?" He blinked several times, and when he was able to clear his vision, he knocked on the bathroom door. The door creaked open, and the room was empty. The sudden sparks of the time candles made him jump, indicating a mere hour past midnight.

She might be at the temple. But at this time? The earliest she woke up to go to the temple on cleaning days was three hours past midnight. His chest jolted uncomfortably; he pictured her face from hours before— longing laced in her eyes, tugging at his heart. She had held him close through the night, caressed him, kissed his face.

"I'll always be with you."

He couldn't explain it, but upon rethinking the context, he now felt petrified. It had sounded like…like a… goodbye…

No, no. I'm overthinking this. But his efforts to calm down only failed with every increasing minute, especially when he looked out of the window and saw the citadel rising to view. Atop it flared the luminous ikumak, the emergency torch that was lit only in the case of emergencies or highly important announcements, intended to direct the public to the citadel bulletin. Sokka found it strange, for the torch had not been lit two hours prior when he'd been awake.

The isumataq threw a parka over himself and headed to the door, banking on the wee hours of the night to prevent the public from noticing the announcement; somehow he had a terrible feeling about this. He ended up slipping on an unfurled scroll in the midst of his lunge, however, hitting the ground with a groan.

"Fuck." He grabbed the scroll to throw it aside, but he froze as he caught sight of the name Pakku signed at the end.

"What in La's hell have you done?"

Pakku looked up from his papers, finding his son glaring at him. Beside Hakoda was a horrified Kya, a highly displeased Kanna, and a downcast Chunta, whose frown gave away the fact that he told everyone about the sinful scroll that Pakku forced him to send to the North.

"And what in La's hell are you doing?" Pakku demanded Hakoda.

"I can't believe you'd threaten to tell everyone about her," Hakoda glowered. "Do you realize the mess this will create in the North?"

Pakku stood up, displeased by his son's unusual reaction, "This is appalling. Your son dishonored you by marrying that wench without your knowledge while you were still there. He blatantly betrayed your trust and hid this from you all this time. Everyone in this household was lying around bawling over his betrayal and the fate of our bloodline, so I took action to get the justice we deserve. And instead of supporting me, you're standing here questioning my actions? You're worried about the state of the North?"

"We're just as upset about this as you are," Kya said, her eyes bloodshot, "But I really think you crossed a line that you shouldn't have."

"Is demanding her to let go of our boy a line that shouldn't be crossed?" Pakku scowled.

"It wouldn't have taken but a second for us to reveal the truth about her while we were there," Hakoda said. "And it sure as hell isn't going to take but a few days to get the message across by correspondence. I might've even threatened to tell the truth to keep Sokka in line. But we didn't reveal it because whether we can sit with this truth or not, she's the reason why we're able to bounce back. She's the reason behind why I'm able to stand without a crutch right now. And she's the reason why Kohana's alive. As much as I hate to say it…"

"Even with your broken leg, you were honored as a warrior. Now you're able to stand on your own, but you've lost your honor by defending her. Even after your son set our reputation aflame," Pakku spat. "Do you not have the least amount of concern for our bloodline?!"

"I'm not defending her, and I am not defending him," Hakoda hissed. "I am seething with rage as I speak. She told me that even if the world collapsed, she wouldn't dare look at our son, and for one, I thought she had an inkling of pride in her—"

"You think that shameless creature would have even an ounce of pride? Don't tell me just because she made you stand up straight, she's fit to be your daughter-in-law—!"

"I'm not saying I approve of her as my daughter-in-law!" Hakoda snapped, "But I never planned on taking my rage to the point of dragging her into the streets. She is another man's daughter—"

"She was thrown away by her own parents, dammit!"

"But Arnook has his entire hopes set on her, and she is no less of a daughter to him. And I told you before that she's the reason why Kohana is safe." Swallowing, "I might be repulsed, but certain moral boundaries, I will still not cross. Whoever it is that saves my children…I will not drag them into the streets. If she takes your message seriously—"

"I was being serious."

Glaring, "If she makes a move that shouldn't be made—"

"Then let her do it! She's a coward. She's a heretic! A disgrace! If the tribe founds out Sokka's married without our consent or knowledge, everyone will spit in our faces! For the sake of our reputation, we need to do what needs to be done." Pakku glared at his son and daughter-in-law, "You're both standing here preaching gratitude because she saved your son, but I think it's better to throw such a child away than to be indebted to that witch who laid her hands on him."

"Pakku!" Kanna hollered, "That's enough!"

But the words were already out of his mouth. Kya held onto sheer rage as Hakoda grabbed his father by his shirt, "What the hell did you just say?"

Despite the wee hours, there were several servants bustling about, but many of them were thankfully within the palace, not particularly concerned with the outside world or the citadel. It was not unexpected; after all, the coronation was exactly a week away, and the solstice was eight days away. People were hustling through the corridors, adorning themselves with religious artifacts and talismans, summoning their piety and readying themselves for the Tui and La Festival set for the solstice moonrise. It was still relatively early in the night, though, so it was uncertain that anyone actually visited the citadel at this hour. At least, Sokka hoped that was the case as he hurried out of the palace, slapping the sleep out of him as his pulse picked up, bearing an amalgamation of numbness, rage, and despair that coursed through his veins. This was not the time, however, to unleash his anger over Pakku's letter; he had to find Yue first. Find her before she made a move she shouldn't.

The Arctic winds nipped at his skin as he ran to the citadel where the torch blazed in warning. True to his guess, it appeared no one had gotten the chance to read the note pinned on the wall, for its contents were truly of the alarming nature and would have called for mass chaos, not the expected quiet of the night. Sokka realized this as he grabbed hold of the note, skimming the fresh, wet ink.

Beloved citizens of the Northern Water Tribe,

A few days prior, I was told of a jarring truth. Reliable sources privately informed me that I am not the biological daughter of Chief Arnook and Chieftess Ahnah. They confirmed that I am the Akna, that I share the blood of an airbender and a Northern tribeswoman.

Sokka's heart dropped into his stomach.

Let it be known to all that the Honorable Chief and Chieftess were not aware that I was the Akna when they decided to raise me. They were a couple fiercely in love who only desired a family. Let it also be known that none of the people who interacted with me over the years are aware of this truth. The last thing I would want is for anyone to be blamed for my presence.

It is obvious that my place is no longer— has never been, rather— on the throne, but I implore that the laws I had passed were actually the works of Kuunnguaq and were executed by Honorable Prince Sokka, so do not feel burdened by the thought of the Akna extending her hand over reformed legislation.

Last but not least, I want to point out that I am not ashamed of who I am. I am not necessarily proud for sharing the blood of those who have left me behind, but I do not find it sinful to have been born in the Aninnialuk's lap. The lesson I continue to extract is having compassion for all of lifekind. All of you might find comfort in disagreeing with me and declaring I am a sinner, and I am not surprised, but I know that I am loved. Very much so. I have no reason to feel like I've fallen or lost.

That being said, I do recognize that my pride alone will not sustain me. In a world where people drown themselves in holy water just for thinking of the Akna, I know that it will be of no benefit even if I stayed in the capital or anywhere in the Water Tribe and lived my life as a layperson. I will be driven away from my home, and I know that I will not be able to survive separation from my homeland. I may have invoked Tui's strength to help me look after my home all this time, but I do not have the strength to fight another daunting fight. That is why I am leaving. I am returning to the La who gave me life. I know He will receive me with open arms.

Goodbye and good luck.

"No…" Sokka dropped down to his knees in sheer horror, his trembling hands losing their grip on the paper, "NO NO NOOOO!"

Beneath Agna Qel'a's newly-risen moon, a man crunched his way through the remnants of twigs and corpses of leaves. His arrival alerted a creature that rustled behind the surrounding ice-capped trees. The tribesman took in a deep breath, the bright moonrays coursing through his veins and feeding the irresistible itch in his limbs. He clenched and unclenched his fists in delight; the moon might not be full, but this light, this luminosity was enough.

He raised a hand, prepared to strike as the pristine coat of a wolf slowly came into view. The beast snarled, pawing the snow beneath it to ready its pounce, and at the stillness of the tribesman lunged forward, putting forth all of its effort, glory, and majesty. Before it could claw at the man and tear its fangs into his flesh as desired, it suddenly froze, paralyzed with the shock of its limbs becoming completely still, its raised claws a mere centimeters away from the man's face.

With a sadistic leer, the man bent and maneuvered his fingers, which in turn made the beast contort into painful proportions, its howls of pain and crackles of limbs shaking the snow forest. The man, pleased with his expected dominance, forced wolf to bow before him, disrupting the flow of blood in the creature's body, preparing for the fatal blow of milking its flesh dry of all blood and moisture—

"Ahem."

The bloodbender turned in the direction of the voice, "You're already here?"

"Your men. Where are they?"

"On their way. As planned, they'll meet us at the Moon Temple."

Sighing, "Let that thing go, Uviriq. We can't waste anymore time If daylight hits, your bending will be adversely affected."

The bloodbender sighed and let go of his grip but not before bending the creature aside. The beast's blood shed the control of the man's grip and resumed a rhythm, albeit ragged and irregular. The wolf broke free and inched away, limping as it fled. "Alright," the bloodbender bent the snow off of his shoulders, "Talk to me, Khasiq."

"Not here. Come with me."

I am returning to the La who gave me life.

The North had never appeared so bleak, so lifeless and painfully empty as he roamed the tundra as fast as he could, his face burning from boiling tears as he flailed in the fire in his throat. He had long destroyed the note she'd pinned to the citadel, letting the parchment burn rather than risk anyone finding it. He also bore a stubborn resolve to find her, shaking his head like a madman. She wouldn't! She would never do that!

But the terror and heartbreak in her eyes this past week, the desperation in her grip whenever she held onto him, the concern that Yugoda always held in her eyes whenever she saw the princess.

No, Yue would never. The dronningi's appreciation of life would never warrant her to take her own, he knew it. He knew her. He cursed the tears repeatedly clouding his vision and stalling his efforts at spotting her, and yet he ran without pause.

"Yue!" he screamed, out of breath as he hollered to the winds, "Don't do this, Yue, don't do this to us! Yue, don't do this to me!"

He eventually slipped and fell facedown into the snow, fumbling to control his heartbeat but clearly achieving the opposite as he burst into a sob. All this time, he thought he'd memorized the span of the North, of the tundra he'd trekked with her, but without her in sight, the North's vastness came to light.

I am returning to the La who gave me life.

She couldn't abandon them. She couldn't abandon him. She'd never left her country behind for anything; why would she leave now? That, too, for a disgusting creature as Pakku? She was plotting something, she had to be. Besides, it hadn't been long since she left; she couldn't have gotten too far. He was going to find her and bring her back. Whatever it takes.

He pulled himself up, chilled by the tundra, his tears nearly turning to icicles as he lifted his head to look at the moon, its effulgence matching that of her eyes.

"The Universe isn't gonna let this happen," he shuddered. "You can't leave…you can't leave the North!" Please.

And it was then that the chilling zephyr sent towards him a fragrant ray of hope— a whiff of moonflower and cardamom. His body trembled; he squeezed his eyes shut and kept taking in the scent; it was very faint but very present.

Unknown energy coursed through him as he ran forward, stopping every few steps to confirm the scent, calling out her name as he went. He went on this way for several minutes, traversing the vast tundra until he heard a shriek.

"Prince Sokka!"

Sokka was surprised to see investigator Niqquq heading towards him in Nationalist garb, trepidation raiding his face. "Niqquq?"

The man collapsed in the snow on his way, eventually helped up by the isumataq, "We need to ready the security personnel! We're under attack!"

"What?"

"Khasiq escaped! I saw him yesterday. He was congregating with a group of bloodbenders…"

The leader of the bloodbender group raised his eyebrows at the visitor who was lead inside, "You made it out in one piece."

"My henchman and I switched places," Khasiq came into the light, pulling down the hood of his cloak, "Everyone thinks I'm still in my cell."

Along with the other Nationalists in the room, Niqquq, donning Nationalist garb, rose from where he was sitting and bowed to Khasiq. Khasiq did not care to address him but did not doubt him, either, assuming he was yet another member of the sea of his followers.

"Talk about indoctrination saving your ass," Uviriq chuckled, "Not bad. I thought you were quite useless, Khasiq."

Finding himself treading caution in the company of the bloodbender, who could at any point in time deliver a single blow that would render him either paralyzed or drowning in a pool of his blood, Khasiq spoke with uncharacteristic patience, "Anyhow, I still think it would be dangerous to invade the city as planned."

"Why? Who has the guts to challenge us during the full moon?"

"Keep in mind that Arnook has the support of the people—"

"Who will be mangled and ripped apart if they raise their hands or voices."

"But enough benders can assemble to fight off the effects of your bending. A vast majority of Revivalists are powerful benders."

"There is no reason for them to risk their lives for a chieftain with no continuing bloodline. Arnook has no real heirs. The tribe may be deluded that he does, but once we're through with the princess—"

"The princess is not his only child," Khasiq clarified, bearing an angry look. "He has more children. At least, he will soon."

Uviriq frowned, "What are you saying? Did he knock a woman up?"

"Not just any woman. His own wife."

"Arnook remarried?" Uviriq rose, surprised, "Is that what he was up to when the princess kept him in hiding?"

Khasiq wolfed down his intoxicant, "Ahnah is alive."

"What?"

The entire room gasped. Niqquq widened his eyes.

Utter disappointment and a degree of apprehension raided Khasiq's rattled gaze, "To be honest, I was always suspicious that Arnook was seeing someone. A week or so before he left, he was seen with a healer who was always by his side. She followed him everywhere he went. Everyone justified her presence by saying Arnook was so sick that he needed to be overseen constantly, but then that woman was given a seat at the royal pedestal. No healer, no matter how serious the condition of a royal family member may be, would never be given a seat during the most important meetings. The meetings are supposed to be confidential, not at all open to the public. I thought Arnook found himself a whore, but then he went into hiding. The White Lotus sentries personally escorted him to another city."

Khasiq's suspicions had gotten worse when a couple of days ago, word spread that the prince flew somewhere out of the blue on the Avatar's bison.

"My sources say it was Ba Sing Se," Khasiq admitted. "Arnook had been hiding there this entire time along with that 'healer.' He only recently set foot in the North."

"How do you know he's back?"

"I had a feeling he would be given the coronation was coming up. When I switched with my henchman, I snuck into the palace as a servant to confirm my suspicions. I overheard a few Revivalists discussing with the new security personnel. They mentioned the chief and 'Chieftess Ahnah.' I was stunned. Ahnah had been alive this entire time. Not only is she alive but she is pregnant with twins!"

"I thought you said you had her killed—"

"I did! The man I sent all those years ago confirmed that she had no pulse!" Shaking his head, "I don't know how she made it out alive. I'd planned it all out months before I made the move to end her!"

The leader of the Nationalists confessed to his past (and now rekindling) intentions. Several years ago, a shaman had observed the Arnook and Ahnah's birth charts and foretold that they would overcome their fertility battle eventually, that they will be blessed with three children— the first, a princess, then two princes. The shaman had predicted that their oldest child will be a stellar queen of the North for many long years, that she would bring forth an era of prosperity and peace. But in order to gain her, they would have to keep an open mind and be patient.

"I had laughed, then," Khasiq said, additionally stating that Arnook and his wife were encouraged at first. Over the years, there was very little change in their condition. They had lost all hope.

"They consulted the shaman again, and he told them to be patient. Again, I laughed at him. He looked me in the eyes and told me my only heir would become a healer. I thought he was being ridiculous. It wasn't until a few years later that I learned I had a son."

"I mean it's not impossible. You philander excessively."

"But who would've guessed that retarded bastard would take to a woman's job?" Folding his arms, "Ever since I found out he existed, I began to spiral. The chance that the prediction could be true… I knew Arnook was a sucker for his wife and would rather die than look to another woman, so I wanted to end that woman. I had an assassin sent after her on the solstice. I sent the best of the best… But she survived somehow." With a huff, "Arnook kept her in a secret place all this time and managed to knock her up in the meantime!"

"You and your superstitions," the bloodbender shook his head, "How can you expect to take over a nation if you're so rooted to idiocy? Besides, you said it yourself; the Akna is not his child. The shaman was wrong."

"I did not want to rely on a shaman's predictions," he muttered. "I didn't panic when I learned of the Akna's existence. She's not even theirs. But now…The infertile woman I thought I'd killed several years ago is now found to be alive and is bearing more children. It seems at this point, anything is possible…"

"These things may have happened, but ultimately, our destiny is in our own hands," Uviriq said. "We cannot cower just because of superstition."

"But I have a feeling that she knows about this attack," Khasiq said. "Someone is feeding her information. The security preparations are way too elaborate."

Niqquq gulped.

"If you're that worried, then we won't attack during the full moon," Uviriq said, leaning back in his chair, "Simple as that."

"What the hell? You can't bloodbend without a full moon."

"We don't have to. That's a rule for the rookies. I've been a bloodbender far too long to draw power from the moon on days other than the full moon. Our select men also have this ability. So long as the moon is at least sixty percent luminous, we can tug on blood."

Surprised, "Sixty percent?"

"Tomorrow is the waxing gibbous at sixty-two percent. My men and I can initiate an attack. It will not be as grand, but it's still doable. Provided that you'll keep your promise in return, of course…"

Khasiq nodded, "The moment I ascend the throne, the commoners' ring will be yours."

A bloodbender took over the duty to guard the Moon Temple outside as his comrades discussed, but his shift was cut short when a barbed arrow reeking of shirshu poison pierced through the air from Spirits-know-where and struck the tribesman squarely on his forehead, piercing through his flesh. The man hit the ground, his body freezing, senses dimming as he endured the shock, warm blood dripping down from his wound, pouring over his nose. His instinct was to thrust his fingers out, claw at the moisture from wherever he could, whichever living being he could, but he found that his efforts were useless. Through his rapidly blurring vision and paralyzing pain, he could make out the faint outline of a figure in the distance; the figure dropped down from the heights of a tree and approached him, and only then did the bloodbender— crippled by the poison's numbing effects that just now began to kick in, his senses and ability to control the water around him deadened— take a greater look to the best of his ability.

The figure was well-built, a quiver of arrows strapped to his back, a bow in his left hand, a boomerang hanging to one side, and a sword perched on the other. The most prominent part of him, however, was his mask that came into the light: a stark, clean white that rivaled the snow, glimmering with the moonlight's graze, the only exception to the seat of white being the black circle on the forehead and the sharp blue eyes peering at him. The spiked cleats beneath the figure's snowboots pressed down against the man's raised hand, drawing blood and a sharp cry given the crawling numbness hadn't reached his extremities yet.

And from there, the Gentleman did not hesitate; his gaze, hollow, flew to the arrow sucking the bender's ability away. He yanked the arrow out with a reckless snatch, slicing through the man's flesh as the bender's vision went black.

It was an experimental shot at the most; the isumataq had neither the precise knowledge of injuring another's ability to bend nor the time to ask Aang about the matter. He did, however, recall his shot from years prior: the fatal shot to the forehead— the "third eye" chakra, as Aang had later commented— that adversely affected the abilities of Combustion Man. The forehead proved to be a jackpot; the blow to a particular spot between the eyebrows rendered the victim unable to bend. Of course, speed was crucial to even get to that point, so the element of surprise was highly necessary.

"Hey, Imqiq, we got orders to—" the bloodbender who stepped out froze, unable to scream in shock over his fallen comrade's fate as an arrow— more confident in its exertion— graced him, too, slicing through the flesh of his forehead.

"You're part of Khasiq's group, aren't you?"

The isumataq, who had his muffler pulled up over most of his face as he stepped inside, only gave a nod to the bloodbender nearest him.

"The building's secure?"

"Yes. The men are out front."

The bloodbender eyed him up and down, "Why are you so armed? You've got a sword, a machete, a whole-ass bow and quiver—"

"I won't make the mistake of underestimating the dronningi," Sokka said in a matter-of-fact manner.

The bloodbender snickered, "You and your leader are cowards. I tell you what. Once I have her in my clutches, I'll go easy on her limbs and throw her on your bed. You can have your way with her first." Clapping him on the back, "Claim her and become a man, my friend, instead of peeing your pants like a little boy."

"Hear you loud and clear," the prince nodded. "Now could you come outside for me for a second? I kind of have a feeling that we're watched."

"What are you talking about?"

"Step outside, and I'll show you."

The bloodbender chortled as he followed the man outside. "I think the real problem here is that you're paranoid—" He was cut off as the "Nationalist" thrust his machete against the bender's neck, slicing his throat. The instinctive curl of the bloodbender's fist was swept short by a kick to the bender's chest, an interlude of a millisecond before an arrow pierced through his forehead. Finding his ability useless in the following seconds of frantic motions, the man succumbed to his fate and collapsed.

Sokka didn't panic as another suspicious bloodbender trickled outside, wearing a look of inquiry that quickly morphed into a yell. Sokka immediately snatched the sash away from the fallen bloodbender's waist and wound it around the yelling bloodbender's mouth, jamming his fingers against the man's pressure points. From inside the temple in the meantime, the prayer commenced, drowning out the man's groans.

"We give thanks to the Lord of the Seas…"

Sokka pinned the bloodbender down with his knee, delivering a punch to the man's face before thrusting his other knee atop the man's stomach, pressing his weight down on the writhing terrorist to keep him from escaping.

"The God on High…"

And right as the bloodbender struggled to yank the isumataq's muffler aside—

"The Keeper of Justice, All-Seeing Eye…"

—he thrust a poison-tainted arrow into the man's forehead.

"HEY!"

For once, the next man charging forward was a nonbender. Sokka relaxed, whacking his machete against the man's head hard enough to knock him out. He kicked the fallen extremist aside, trapping dying moans with a poisoned arrow.

"It's him!" came another shriek. Another nonbender had frozen by the door, cowering at the Gentleman mask that slipped from beneath Sokka's tunic and dangled at his belt. Before the nonbender could run to get help, Sokka fired an arrow that burrowed through his neck and throat.

"To the Great La, we now bow."

The face of the Aninnialuk— at least, the black half of which could currently be seen— seemed different somehow; it shone with the radiant glow from the torch that blazed in the sconce beside it. A few Nationalists had begun lighting other torches to provide some lighting in the dark, having shut all the doors and finding the moon's light dim even as it wafted through a single open window. The enemies of the nation had very little concern, relying on the calculated luminosity of the moon to seal the future. And Khasiq, contrary to their confidence, wore a wary look on his face.

"The tribe might sleep, but Kuunnguaq will not."

Uviriq glared, "Will you shut your trap already?"

In the meantime, Sokka snuck into the vast prayer hall, having sported the robe of a fallen high-ranking Nationalist. He stayed towards the back, figuring he would take out a couple of men at a time. He gave a slight nod of acknowledgment to those who turned and saw him, thinking him to be one of their own, and when their attention flew back to the front, his right arm flew over the mouth of the bloodbender closest to him. His left arm quickly jabbed at the man's pressure points, particularly those in his neck to knock him out before reaching for one of the many poisoned blades at his belt and impaling the man from behind. Without a sound, Sokka disposed of him behind the nearest pillar, growing still in time for someone else to turn around.

"Even before the Akna came about, Kuunnguaq was an inferno," Khasiq warned. "She trained the Akna, too. She has her connections."

Uviriq shook his head, "Even if she herself shows up, I'll be her puppeteer. I'll tie her to your bedpost and make her your bitch if you want me to."

"You don't seem to know a lot about her."

"What's there to know? She's not that extraordinary. She, too, is a bender. And I bet my life that she's not a bloodbender. No need to make it sound like she's some sort of goddess."

By now, nine members of the convened group found themselves passed out in the corridors weaving behind the huge pillars, speared by poisoned blades. Some were thrown into the storage rooms.

But the task ahead was still daunting for Sokka, demanding razor sharpness as he breathed in the chilling winds from outside and fought off his sweat.

"I'm a world-class bloodbender. I can sever veins at sixty percent luminosity. That's almost at will," Uviriq boasted. "As long as the moon is intact, no one can get in my way. Definitely not some woman."

"Our moves are strategic and fatal," supplied another bloodbender. "We don't need elaborate bending. One blow to the heart, one blow to the brain. Increase the pressure until the veins and arteries burst."

The isumataq widened his eyes, casting a look at the moon through the nearby window, holding desperately onto the stubborn that maybe Yue was here, devising a master plan instead of abandoning the North. And the moon had never failed him.

Your Kuunnguaq is no bloodbender," Uviriq told Khasiq, "And your princess is no bloodbender, and your prince is no bender at all. We don't need a whole army to take down the royal family."

The temple smelled delightfully of Yue— as it always did, but regardless— at this point, all Sokka could do was hope, latch onto blind faith— both concepts foreign to him. He could still picture her fierce look, the way she trapped the entire chill of the tundra in her gaze alone, juxtaposed by the fire of firm conviction. A message a true leader would utter to another, etching onto his soul her clearest intentions.

"No matter how chaotic things may get, I'm not going to leave the North."

As if answering his conviction, the shutters of the nearest window suddenly slammed to a shut, capturing everyone's attention. And even before they could write it off as the consequence of a harsh wind, they could all hear the freezing of the shutters and doors from the outside, trapping them all inside. Khasiq scrambled up, alert, as everyone else frowned.

"Who was that?" Uviriq demanded, "Is it one of you?"

"No."

"Not me."

"I didn't do it."

One of the bloodbenders in the back tried to reopen the temple doors but found it frozen, trapping them all inside. One by one, the torch flames were also extinguished save for the larger one by the Aninnialuk. Several pairs of eyes flew to the idol for the light source as the slithering of ice crystals surrounded the temple from the outside, rousing suspicion. Many bloodbenders tried to bend the doors back open but found it to be of no use. Sokka, in the meantime, used the darkness to his advantage; relying on his hearing, claiming the darkness for his "clumsiness," weaving in a series of, "Excuse mes" and Sorrys," he went on with his sabotage, muffling the alarmed sounds of every bloodbender he could find and jamming a poisoned arrow into him. The unconscious bodies, he threw to the side, knocking over other people, "My bad, can't see!"

"It's her!" Khasiq bellowed as the ice continued to creep, "Kuunnguaq!"

Several benders worked in unison to pry the windows and doors open but failed. Cutting through the impossibly thick black marble walls was not a feasible option. Unknown to the fumbling bloodbenders and Nationalists, their manpower was dwindling as Sokka went on with his rampage.

Uviriq got to his feet, unwilling to let any sort of alarm show on his dimly lit face. "You can't open a single door? What is wrong with you all?"

"The force is strong, and it's coming from outside, sir!" a bloodbender said. "Someone is actively bending to keep us trapped!"

"I told you!" Khasiq snapped.

"QUIET!" Uviriq roared, "We're getting to the bottom of this!" He marched up to the Aninnialuk, unaware that he was stomping over the cold bodies of his vanquished men as he grabbed hold of the torch, but before he could pry it from its sconce, a hand came out of the blue and grabbed a firm hold of his arm to stop him. Uviriq's heart dropped into his stomach as he gawked at the owner of the arm; it took him several seconds to realize that the arm was pitch black in hue, that it was attached to the Aninnialuk idol. That the hand felt like a human hand despite its coat of varnish.

Uviriq's scream that followed turned everyone back to the light source, which fell out of his hands in his surprise and landed on a fallen bloodbender's body, igniting it, and thanks to the volatile nature of the leaking shirshu poison, the bodies next to it also ignited. And in the burst of flames that lit up the room, the image of the Aninnialuk and the sight of all the fallen bodies came to view, causing mass uproar. Sokka let go of the bloodbender in his grip, whom he'd luckily managed to knock unconscious, and tossed him behind a pillar, straightening his robe back over himself to hide the weapons underneath. He gawked at the idol, which was in reality a figure painted in what he deduced to be black ink, later solidified and coated in gloss to appear as stone. The "sculpture" began to crack, the fissures soon melting into a smooth coat that stuck to human skin. Closed eyes shot open, revealing tides of enraged baby blue.

Relief flooded through Sokka as Yue broke free from the confines of the solidified ink, covered entirely in darkness, her long inked hair flowing behind her black robes as she sent a powerful kick towards Uviriq, knocking him down the altar. Sokka mouthed her name like a moon priest lost in quiet prayer, wandering in awe, love, and a degree of terror as she stood in pure, unadulterated dark glory, besmeared with ink all over as she glared at the shocked traitors of the nation, her irises transitioning to pure white. She was a ray of La embodying Tui, her painted skin lighting up from the sheen of the fallen cremated bodies.

"The stories we hear of the Spirits are our stories. Tales of love and loyalty, fear and tyranny, deviance and defiance, conformity and rebellion."

"It's La!" screamed a bloodbender.

"Oh my Merciful Lord La!" screamed another.

"It's Kuunnguaq, you idiots!" Khasiq bellowed in horror.

"These stories are manifest in our daily lives and show us that the Spirits' struggles are ours, that our struggles are theirs."

Khasiq raced forward pathetically with a spear. Yue answered with a war cry that deafened their senses; she sent a water whip in his direction and knocked him down the steps, her tone deadening the shocked senses of the onlookers.

"Their battles are ours, their compassion is ours, their victories are ours. This goes to show that the Spirits are in all of us, consistently working to look after us."

And in the momentary reprieve of shock, she raised her arms, summoning the tides, making them burst the doors and windows open. She flooded the place with water, driving out the smoke but leaving abundant steam behind, kicking aside the fallen bodies as she marched her way down. A heavy tendril of water smacked the front row of Nationalists aside, freezing them in place.

"We may envision a harmonious world of the supernatural somewhere beyond the clouds, but the Spirit World is here. Now. In every oppressed creature crying for help, in every liberating agent lending a hand."

With the heat and smoke of the fire extinguished, replaced by the sanity of the moon's light that pierced through when the steam began to clear, Sokka let the reality sink in, the horror of her obvious presence in a room full of bloodbenders, many of whom he was yet to get rid of. What the hell is she doing?! She might have the ability to defend herself against a certain number of bloodbenders, but the group here was too much for one person.

"You idiots! I'll take her out myself!" Uviriq screeched.

Sokka, whose mission thus far had been about surprise and stealth, quickly abandoned it as he jumped Uviriq and stabbed him in the stomach with a poisoned dagger. When his adrenalin really began to pick up, he realized he probably shouldn't have done that, earning the glares of the bloodbenders, who realized he was the traitor responsible for the fall of many of their men. Several hands lurched dangerously in his direction, but oddly, they managed to do nothing— a truth which absolutely bewildered all of them. A force had taken over Sokka— a gentle but firm force that seemed to keep his blood going, that dictated the biological rhythm inside of him to keep pulsing, keep fighting off the criminals' grip.

Sokka turned to the dronningi, who had her fists clenched, her glare directed at the bloodbenders. Even when they directed their efforts at her, she charged ahead with no trace of contorting limbs or twitching extremities.

"What's happening?"

"She's not affected by our bending!"

"She's a bloodbender!"

With minimal flicks of her wrist and kicks to their chests, Yue had the water beneath them freeze them in place. She didn't care to reach inside of them and control them; all she needed was the right footing. With one foot planted on one fallen bloodbender and another foot pinning down the other, she loomed over them, middle and index fingers of each hand deftly jamming against their foreheads, twisting in a critically unique manner. They didn't understand it to be anything beyond a kind of chi-blocking, unaware that the consequence was far more extreme.

What happened next was all a blur. Following another warring roar, Yue sent shards of ice raining down on the benders, who still found themselves locked inside with the freaky mindbender who thwarted the best of their abilities. Their reliance on the moon was also troubled by the onslaught of thick clouds blocking the light.

Sokka managed to snap out of his shock and roared, directing his attacks at the Nationalists. Nonbenders, he battled with his brawn, bombarding the men's attacks and throwing them aside as if they weighed nothing to him. His blazing adrenalin allowed him to bolt down on the scrawny and pin down the hulks, their spears sliced in half by his meteor sword, their yells muffled by punches of quick succession. Benders, though, he battled with his brain, dodging tendrils and icicles, using the bodies around him to trip his opponents and later jabbing at their pressure points, all instinct to fight back ending with arrows pierced at their foreheads.

Among those that remained was Khasiq, who was at a clear disadvantage with Uviriq stabbed and defeated ridiculously early in the fight and several bloodbenders tossed aside like they meant nothing. The only thing he managed to do with success was tear down the barrier keeping her face from the world; he grabbed a bucket from a nearby storage room, filled it with water, and hurled it out before splashing the water against her in the middle of a skirmish, temporarily managing to distract her. The bloodbender she was confronting broke free and made a quick jab to one of her pressure points, partially blocking her chi, and she was sent toppling down to one side. She managed to keep her blood from succumbing to the man's grip, but she was horrified to see the man reaching for Sokka in a fatal grip, the gruesome sound of blood sloshing violently, unbalanced and without restraint, through his system, ripping a painful scream out of his throat.

"Yes yes YES!" Khasiq jumped. "Keep at it! Make him rot!"

Yue trapped her scream in her throat, ignoring her disoriented trance as she tried exerting her ability over the isumataq, but her grip faltered, and the prince continued to endure the agony. She bent her tears away, fumbling to strategize as she stood up.

"KUUNNGUAQ!" Khasiq roared, "Stand down! If you don't, every vein in his body will burst!"

Yue strove to seal every emotion away, every ounce of her energy used to maintain a cold glance that threw the bloodbender and the Nationalist leader off guard.

"I will show him no mercy," the bloodbender taunted. "I don't care if his folks destroy me. I'm most definitely not going to spare him."

In that moment, Yue was reminded of that innocent man bloodbended to his near-death by Hama all those years ago. Her worst fears and nightmares sought to haunt her in this very moment. She was not sure how she held on; perhaps it was the dire need to protect her husband, the demands that such a task would entail.

"Am I supposed to be terrified now?" Yue said, throwing them even more off guard. "If you call yourselves real men, you'll pursue the people you're really after instead of wasting time and energy with useless shenanigans." Turning to Khasiq, "Especially you."

The man narrowed his eyes.

"Your target is the princess, and your target is Kuunnguaq. But I have news for you, Khasiq. The two people you're looking for are actually one and the same."

And at that, Khasiq widened his eyes. The bloodbender, too, paled in shock, tossing Sokka aside and letting go of his death grip over him. He spared the isumataq of some agony but still left him in pain. Khasiq, taking note of this, scrambled to pick up an abandoned dagger on the ground and held it to Sokka's throat, all while he gawked at Kuunnguaq, "You…what are you saying…?"

"I'm the princess." She summoned more water at her fingertips and splashed herself with it, this time cleansing her white hair of the ink and letting it flow freely, unrestrained behind her.

And with that, Khasiq stepped back in shock. "You…you're Hama's little minion…! You're a bloodbender! You're the princess?!"

"I'm many things. I had a very ambitious past, obviously."

"By the Spirits…" the bloodbender gawked, "She's…she's just perfect…"

"She's lying!" Sokka burst, "She's not the princess! She has nothing to do with this—mmph!" The prince ended up having a ring of ice cover his mouth.

"Enough, Sokka," Yue said, her tone cold, "I'm tired of being your little bitch. I told you things won't work out."

Khasiq and the bloodbender gawked at the isumataq before turning back to the princess, again fully taking in her appearance.

"If you think he's the bait, you're wrong," Yue told them. "I understand you might have this complex of making me suffer by making my loved ones suffer. For that, I'd encourage you to target anyone else. But this guy over here…" shaking her head, "He means nothing to me."

"You're only saying that to save his ass, Princess. You're in love with him."

"You wish," she scoffed. "There is no love. The fact of the matter is that we used each other. He used me to get out of marrying a woman he didn't like, and I used him to hop my way to the throne." Crossing her arms, "His parents insulted my existence. I told them I'd never even look in his direction. I'm a woman of pride. I'm sure you know that, Khasiq."

"You think I'm just going to believe that everything you two did was a lie?"

"I don't care what you think. I don't care what you do with him. I just don't care. I'm only saying that hurting him isn't going to move me to tears or make me grovel." She eyed the Nationalist leader, "You've been searching your entire life for me twice over," her words shocked the men enough to make them blind to the fact that she was slowly taking a step forward. "And now, I'm right in front of you. You have a bloodbender with you who's probably poorer than me in terms of caliber, but he's still better than you. Why go for the smaller fish when you can catch the biggest one in the sea and call it a day? You can have your kill right now if you want. Instead of hanging onto useless people."

"You're clearly still trying to save his ass."

A chuckle, "You're terrified to face me head-on. That's the only vibe I'm getting here. Shall I stoop down to your level, then? I don't need bending to take you down. It'll also make the fight more interesting."

"You're a crazy ass bitch."

Holding the knife closer to Sokka's throat yet still unable to process that fact that she was close enough in proximity, "You think we're dumb enough to believe you?" the bloodbender huffed.

"Oh come on, I'm a woman of my word…" And she quickly grabbed the knife at Sokka's throat with her bare hand and yanked it away from him, throwing it aside and shoving Khasiq to the side. She thrust her foot against the bloodbender, kicking him down. She worked to freeze him in place, her fingers twisting at his critical nerve to rid him of his bending for good.

Sokka watched in horror as Khasiq charged forward after grabbing the blade that she threw aside, ready to impale the princess. The isumataq, muted by the ice that the princess had bent over his mouth, grabbed hold of his sword a couple of feet away, using the very little control he had over his abused body to trip the Nationalist leader. As Khasiq fell, Sokka pointed his sword upright, angling it just below the Nationalist's stomach. Khasiq's body fell straight through the blade, bathing Sokka's sword in the Nationalist's blood, an inhumane screech filling the Moon Temple, ridding the North of its rather cowardly traitor.

The silent aftermath consisted of Yue grabbing Sokka's arm and pulling him behind a pillar, her tears finally slipping in torrents, cleaning traces of black ink on her face. She unabashedly threw Sokka robe off of him, tossed the weapons at his belt aside, and tore his undershirt, making him lie flat on the ground. She felt his pulse before her hands quickly encased themselves in a healing glow that numbed him of all pain as they traversed down from his head, feeling the nerves and muscles in his face and neck, down to his chest before separating upon reaching his abdomen, traveling down his legs.

"I'm okay—"

"Shut up, shut up," she glared, more tears falling, "I don't understand what the fuck you're even doing here! Who told you to be here?!"

"Well right back at you!" he hissed, "What in La's hell, princess?! What if you'd been bloodbent?!"

"Well you obviously were because of me! This is exactly what I didn't want to happen!" She let her healing glow subside, the danger having now passed. "The Universe was merciful, so you made it out without a problem. But if anything happened to you…you think I'd live with myself?!"

"Well you seemed to think I'd be able to live without you!" he snapped, his own tears falling, "That stunt of yours was the most dangerous thing you've done as of yet!"

"Who even told you to come after me and witness my stupidity then?!" she raged, knowing fully well that her plans had failed thanks to this unexpected chaos, "This was supposed to be a solo mission!"

"Oh, so you want me to just abandon you then?!"

She couldn't keep up her glare at that point. She tried to keep up the fight but failed, faltering, honestly relieved that her plans to leave were soiled. She caved in, her voice soft and wavering, "You know I didn't mean what I said to Khasiq, right?"

He answered by pulling her against him and hugging her, drenching her tunic with his sob, "Really? I had no idea."

She hugged him back, her hand smoothing his wolf tail, her tears falling down his bare back. He pulled back to kiss her forehead, cupping her face.

"Oh my Spirits!"

The duo turned to the entrance of the temple, where Aang and Katara were standing. Osha was with them, her scepter in hand and a knowing look in her eyes. The trio was accompanied by several Loyalist guards, all horrified by the scene but relieved to see Sokka and Yue unharmed. It was another moment of shock for the Loyalist guards; this was the first time they had ever seen the princess. Knowing the way the walls talked, her appearance was bound to be the talk of the tribe. But no matter; none of that mattered.

"Let's head back," Aang told the two of them. "The guards will handle everything."

Yue helped Sokka up, and they held onto each other as they stepped out of the temple, supporting each other's wobbling gait. Aang and Katara briefly spoke with the guards, trailing a little ways behind them.

"I, uh... I need to stop by the citadel," Yue whispered to the isumataq. "I forgot something."

He swallowed, the hand around her arm holding her a degree tighter, "I burned the note, don't worry."