Avatar:
The Last Airbender Created By: Michael
Dante DiMartino,
Bryan
Konietzko
Avatar:
The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of
Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus
Chapter XI – The Reading
The waxing moon had long since set when Deng arrived at his camp. The sentries saluted as he passed. They, like his aide, had been with him for what seemed a lifetime and they were well aware of their commander's pernoctations. The camp was asleep.
The Earth Kingdom general saw the tent he was looking for. It was the only one made of fabric and not of stone.
He stopped outside of the tent's closed flap. Through its walls a warm light pulsed rhythmically, as if it were the heart of some giant organism. He could feel his own chest tightening as he hesitated. He looked up at the stars in a last, silent appeal for help before ducking into the tent.
Inside a young woman sat on a simple mat before a fire pit. The fire danced and waved wildly as the dry desert wood burned rapidly. A tripod held an iron vessel over the flames. Steam rose in a thick column off the water boiling within.
The woman had long, dark hair, a generous mouth and dark eyes. She looked at the much older man before her with an expression of relief and a concern too pained not to reveal something deeper. She reached up to him, but he waved her off as he dropped down on the mat opposite her.
"You have called, and I have come," she said softly as she dropped her hand into her lap.
The tightening in his chest subsided as he looked at her. He smiled and said equally softly, "As you always have, you have come to help save our people."
"And always will," she replied, looking back up at the Earth Kingdom general with intensity in her voice and despair in her eyes,"– for you."
Their eyes locked for a moment longer before Deng broke contact. Looking down he saw the colorful, wide backs of the cards at her feet.
"We should start," he began apologetically. "Is he asleep?"
She closed her eyes in concentration, and after a brief pause replied, "He is," her voice suddenly calm and certain. She opened her eyes once again, but as she looked at him, he could tell she no longer saw him.
"Have you set your heart on this course, my lord? You know that my gift is revelation, but I cannot control what the cards and the Spirits who speak through them will reveal. Such knowledge can be dangerous, and once revealed it cannot again be concealed." She spoke as if reading from a religious text, though the feeling behind her warning permeated her speech.
Nifong reached behind his back and untied the clasps of his breastplate, which he removed and placed carefully beside him. Turning back to the young woman he replied, "I understand, but you know this must be done."
"Our enemy approaches," he continued, "You have heard the drum beats and seen the fires from afar. Already my commanders wrangle over what to do. Shall we fight them here and now? Shall we bide our time until the winter comes to our aid? Or, shall we dare great deeds and seek to win the ultimate prize? If we were to conquer Mequon, the war might soon be over."
Then, he sighed, and in a softer voice continued, "Ah, if only I could do this, this one thing," he reached out a hand and curled a lock of the young woman's hair back behind her ear from where it had fallen, "to end this war forever. We could all start new lives. The world could wake up from this nightmare and live again. It is all I have ever prayed for, all I have ever wanted," he looked away from her and continued, "For twenty years I've fought, but the war seems to have a life of its own. How strange it seems now that I fight not the Fire Nation, but the war itself."
Nifong shook his head as if to clear such thoughts from him mind and he looked once more at his companion with a slight smile, "See how I drift now in my own thoughts? I think of philosophy, the Spirits and the virtues of a simpler life amidst the maelstrom." Nifong's expression hardened as he continued, "The war has a new face, the face of Prince Xian of the Fire Nation. If I am to destroy him, I must understand him. The Dai Li identified the leader of this new army months ago as the Fire Lord's nephew, the one who grew to fame under General Shu, but that is all. The Dai Li give names and dates, but nothing useful, nothing about the man. They know nothing," he concluded, not without bitterness in his voice.
"That is enough. When was he born?" He told her and she replied, "Then let us begin."
Nifong removed the leather vest and peasant shirt he wore under his armor. Bare chested, he rose to his feet and dragged his mat directly in front of the fire. He dropped the mat and sat down on his knees. Grabbing the two closest legs of the tripod with his hands he leaned over into the steam rising from the iron. Sweat began to pour off him as the heat from the fire and the steam struck his body.
She spoke from somewhere behind him, "You shall be a vessel for your enemy as this iron is a vessel for this water."
The young woman suddenly appeared opposite him. "Close your eyes, my lord, and breath deeply," she ordered calmly. The general complied. He was dimly aware of the woman opening small containers and heard the brief, but unmistakable sounds of glass bottles knocked against each other.
The light of the fire prevented his eyelids from providing complete darkness. The steam, the heat, the sweat and the rosy light that filtered through his eyelids yielded an unpleasant experience. This was compounded by the periodic popping of the dry wood as it burned, which caused small pieces of hot ash to land on his arms and knees. The pit in his stomach had no relation to these uncomfortable sensations, but rather to his fear of what was to come. Though they had done this many times together, it was nevertheless an experience both he and the fortuneteller dreaded.
After some time Deng heard the young woman start dropping things into the boiling water. The steam became acrid and he began to cough violently. The tripod shook as his grip tightened and he fought against his natural instinct to withdraw.
"Breath!" she commanded in an urgent tone.
Deng breathed, but felt no air enter his lungs. His muscles moved, his chest cavity expanded, but he felt nothing fill it. He opened his eyes involuntarily, but his vision was distorted by salty tears.
"Close your eyes!"
Still choking, he closed his eyes once more, this time so tightly that it caused him pain as he tried to drive away salty, acidic tears that burned horribly. He tried to exhale the breath he had never drawn. His chest and lungs shrank in volume, but again he felt no wind pass over his lips.
Then, when the excruciating sensation was finally causing him to panic, something else was added to the vessel and the steam changed once again. The smell turned almost instantaneously from acrid to saccharine. The sensation of breathing returned to him. As he gasped for air he could feel the burning sensation in his lungs smothered as if by a blanket of warm snow. Breathing deeply of the sweet steam, the heat of both the flames and the vapor began to lose their grip on his consciousness. The fire popped, depositing a fragment of burning wood on his arm, but he did not notice.
With great relief he felt himself recede within his own mind and body. He dimly perceived his own breath, but the sensory perception of his extremities was gone. Disconnected from his surroundings, he drifted on a calm internal sea, his body a great hollow shell around him. As if from far away he heard the young woman begin to speak or chant. The words were indistinguishable, but they rose in tempo and power.
As the fortuneteller continued, the serenity of his mind was suddenly broken. In one sickening motion, Deng felt his whole self rush forward at amazing speed. The sensation of acceleration was horrifying as he had no body with which to feel it. He opened his mind's eye and was horrified to see nothing at all. A great blackness rushed at him, the void which terrifies all who fear death.
Then, as suddenly as the acceleration had begun, it was gone. This sensation was replaced by the certainty that he was not alone. A visitor now in his own consciousness, he felt small amidst the caverns of his mind. All about him he could feel the enormity of another being.
His mind's eye suddenly flashed white and then filled with a vision, occupying the void that had so terrified him. An image of an old man with a severe countenance and a finger pointed down at him from a dais was replaced with a startlingly clear visage of the sun setting over a great city. Swept along by the power of these visions, or perhaps memories, Deng had no choice but to allow the sensations of each to wash over him. He felt briefly the soft, warm flesh of a naked woman as the memory of the other's first embrace was replaced by the image of a Fire Nation family, dressed in white. Near them stood a funeral pyre. He saw rather than felt the hand of the other reach out to the figure on the pyre, but he could not touch it.
The vision ended as the young woman began speaking again, and this time Deng could hear the words.
"Can you hear me, Prince?" she asked.
"Yes," his mouth answered, though Deng had not moved his lips, "Where am I?"
"You are safe. Open your eyes."
His eyes opened. Deng saw through them, but could not move them himself.
"Come over here and sit down in front of me."
Without feeling the movement, Deng was aware of his body rising and walking over to where the cards lay. A moment later the young woman faced him once again.
"Show me your hands."
His hands raised themselves of their own accord. Into them she placed the large deck of cards.
"Shuffle these cards and think of what concerns you most. Return them to me when you are done."
His body held the cards, hesitating. "Why do I do this? I am so tired, I must sleep."
"But you are asleep, Prince," she answered in a soothing voice, "this is just a dream. When you finish what I have asked, you will sleep well the rest of the night and wake refreshed."
Slowly his hands began to shuffle the cards. Though Deng could not feel his hands, he felt the thick texture of the cards. In this strange netherworld they seemed to give off a heat of their own. When he was finished he held them out to the fortuneteller, who took them in silence. She looked at the cards for a moment, and placed them before her. Then she stood up and walked behind his kneeling body.
For a few moments Deng simply experienced the odd weight of the double consciousness inhabiting his body. Looking out upon the world as if from the bottom of a well, he was totally unprepared for the sudden, acute pain of two sharp blows that landed simultaneously on either side of his head. The pain was accompanied by an almost audible popping sound as the fortuneteller's cupped palms forced air into Deng's ear canals. In an instant, the other was gone and, like a air bubble rising to surface from the bottom of the ocean, Deng expanded back into his own body. Shuddering uncontrollably he fell over sideways, muscle spasms wracking him as his mind struggled to reassert control.
The young woman walked around Deng's body as he flopped around on the floor like a dying fish.
Carefully she removed the still steaming vessel from the tripod and, opening a flap at the back of the tent, threw out its contents. Turning back to her lordly guest she saw that the spasms were subsiding.
With a final tremble the tremors departed. Deng breathed heavily as relief and a profound weariness swept his body. He was no longer young, and though the life of a soldier had kept him fit, his body made clear each time he was forced to do this that the next might be his last.
He opened his eyes slightly as he felt a damp cloth wipe the sweat off his forehead and saw the young woman staring down at him, her face drawn in concern. He felt her hand slip into his and grip it tightly.
"Don't," she said as he tried to get up. "Just lie there."
He squeezed her hand and replied, "All right."
She leaned over, lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.
"Tell me, now. What did you see?"
He related to her the visions of the old man, the sun over a great city, the woman and the family in white.
She reflected for a moment before squeezing his hand once and sitting down beside him on her mat. Deng rolled over onto to his side to see the area between them, the wet cloth falling down on the floor. A few feet away lay the deck of cards his hands had shuffled.
"Now I shall cast for him The Tree of Life."
She picked up the deck, drew the first card and flipped it over. The Knight of Cups. Carefully she lay it down before her. She the drew the second card and turned it over. The Two of Swords, and placed it directly above the first card. The third soon appeared, The Five of Cups, which she placed to the right of the second card. Here she stopped and pondered a moment before speaking.
Pointing to the Knight of Cups she explained, "The first card drawn is the Significator card. It represents the person for whom the spread has been made." She looked at the three cards for a moment before beginning her interpretation in a clear, confident voice, "This Prince Xian is a good man in the eyes of all around him, my lord, a decent man in a corrupt age. He is generous, loyal, open and trusting to those he loves. He loves many, and despises few."
Nifong looked down, unhappy at this news, "How can such a man exist among the high and mighty of the Fire Nation? And why has such a man been sent against me now?"
She looked over to him and replied, "I have no answers for those questions. You know well how this must be, my lord," the young woman chided gently. "This reading will tell nothing of the future, only of possibilities. Through these cards the Spirits will speak of his state of mind and consciousness, his hopes, fears and that which defines him. It will not tell you what to do. You can only take what is shown and decide what do on your own."
"I know," replied Nifong with a sigh.
"But that is not all the Spirits tell us with this card. This man sees the true worth of men and takes their measure with ease, but he is also naturally cautious and seldom quick to act or judge. Now, let us hear what the rest have to tell…"
In rapid succession now she flipped over eight more cards and placed them in a pattern before her. The cards all had painted faces on them, the figures wearing elaborate clothing and captured in different poses. Some held scepters and wore crowns, others juggled cups, or wielded swords. A few were dominated by their inscriptions, "The Tower" and "Death".
Nifong exhaled the breath he had been unconsciously holding and pointed at the Two of Swords above the Significator card, "So, what does he want? This position is what he seeks to achieve, right?"
The young fortuneteller looked up at the general and smiled slightly, "You remember much, my lord."
"Doesn't this one represent peace?"
"Yes, my lord, peace, but not necessarily between men or nations. Prince Xian seeks peace of mind. He is torn… tortured by disappointment, so much that he is not as mindful of the present as he should be," she said, indicating the third card, the Five of Cups, "but he is not the one disappointed, another is."
"How can you tell it is not he who is disappointed?"
"The card is inverted, and…" she said, pointing to the crowned figure on the card to the left of the Two of Swords, "The Emperor has appeared. Someone this man holds in high regard has turned against him or…perhaps better to say the connection between them is broken and Xian seeks to mend it."
Suddenly Deng remembered the old man on the dais, "Azulon?"
"Perhaps. The Fire Lord has placed great expectations on his nephew, of that there can be no doubt. Perhaps his father, who fell long ago on the banks of the Song."
Nifong sighed. This was not what he'd expected, but it seldom was.
"What troubles you, my lord?"
"I expected a young hot head, another bloodthirsty, vainglorious monster, burning with hatred and seeking revenge against the man who he'd probably blame for his father's death. Instead, you tell me I face a decent man."
"You expected…?" the young woman questioned.
Nifong, careful not to disturb the cards, swung out his feet and sat up cross legged. Placing his hands together and resting them on his thighs he continued, "I… hoped for that. Yes, I hoped. It's easier that way, to believe you are ridding the world of evil. How much harder it is, when the face of your enemy is kind." Nifong looked down into his lap and continued softly, "We defend our land, our people, our freedom, but I can't help but to think, after burying bodies for twenty years, there is not one shred of justice in this war."
The fortuneteller raised a hand to her quivering lip, for the general's confessions disturbed her, "Have you lost faith, then, my lord?"
Nifong looked up, a smile sliding down over his face like a veil, "When in doubt, I'm too well trained in my duty to do anything but go on. Fear not. Now," he said, drawing her attention back to the cards, "what else do you see?"
Still shaken, the fortuneteller returned once more to her cards, "The whole spread speaks of confusion and fear, fear of loss, fear of choice, fear of death. He wants to please, but doesn't see how. His ability to see the truth which has served him so well in life, represented here by The Tower," she said pointing at the card bearing that name below and to the right of the Significator, "is overshadowed… clouded by his fears."
"His friends and subordinates are fiercely loyal, but he is opposed by the Prince of Disks – here," she said, indicating the card of the same name. The figure on this card had one body, but had a face on both sides of its head. It had four hands, each of which held an object, a sword, a bow, a scale and a scroll.
"This person is a man of tremendous ambition and determination, but his path is unclear as well. The Spirits do not reveal in this spread what his fate will be."
Nifong looked down once again and frowned slightly. The fire had begun to burn low. "And the Death card? What is it's meaning here? I know it seldom means physical death."
"Of course he may die, my lord, but you are right to say that isn't what the card means here. The Death card in many oracle decks is called "Rebirth" or "Transformation", and often means some kind of major change. In this spread, it means, in conjunction with the inverted Six of Wands, that during this great turn of events he will win by losing, and all that was before these events will change irrevocably."
"What does that mean? Will I defeat him on the battlefield, then?"
"I don't know, my lord," she replied, "Fortunetelling is an imprecise art, at best."
"It doesn't matter," the Earth Kingdom general replied sternly, getting once more to his feet. "The Spirits have revealed enough. I now know how to beat the man. Now I must learn how to beat his machines."
Deng walked over to his clothes where they still lay neatly on the floor where he had placed them. He picked them up. Still stinking with sweat, he would put them on after he washed.
The young woman got to her feet and stood in front of him. The clear voiced, confident fortuneteller was gone, replaced by the concerned, wide eyed young woman who had greeted him when he had entered.
"Will you let come with you, my lord?" she pleaded, though she knew the answer would be what it had always been. "Please."
He brushed aside her hair once again and shook his head, "No, the time for a new life has not yet come," he replied. As looked into her dark eyes he could not help but feel hope spring forth within him, "Pray for our victory, and perhaps both our prayers will be answered."
Without thinking she stepped forward and kissed him. He hesitated only a moment before putting his arms about her and kissing her back.
He released her and said, "Now go, go tonight. Go far away from the Nasu, for I will fight him here. Find a good place, a safe place and wait for me. I will find you."
He kissed her once more on the forehead as she cried softly in sorrow, clinging to his neck. She hugged him fiercely until he gently disengaged her. She stepped back as he turned to leave.
"I will go, but how long will I wait, my lord?" she asked as he gained the exit of the tent.
He turned once more and replied, "I do not know, perhaps the cards can tell you."
With that he left. Wracked with uncertainty she eyed the cards that had not been used in Prince Xian's reading. They lay in a neat pile a few feet from her. Making her decision, she gathered them to her and cast a reading for the other mind that had shuffled the cards that night. When finished, she cast the spread and wept at what she found.
In the morning she was gone, just as she had promised, but Deng Zev Nifong never saw her again.
