IV.
The End of the First Winter in Omashu
Another three hours of intense physical training had passed and Kuarsa had finally shown mercy, giving Kukuh a break. Kuarsa had really pushed Kukuh this time and it had left Kukuh exhausted, every muscle burnt and every joint hurt.
Kukuh fell to the ground, heaving a deep sigh.
"Get up sissy," Kuarsa said, laughing at Kukuh.
"You think this is funny?"
"I do believe it's slightly amusing."
Kukuh looked at the prince, who's pursed lips muffled a chuckle and who's nostrils widened, chest heaving and shoulders jolting.
"Cheer up, the worst is behind you."
Kuarsa poked Kukuh's sore leg with his foot, suppressing another chortle.
"Tomorrow however…"
A deep sigh from Kukuh's part, a dark glare and a kick against Kuarsa's shin.
"Princes can be in pain too!"
He rubbed his shin, but reached out his hand to Kukuh. Kukuh took it, his eyes twitched feeling the force Kuarsa used to pinch his hand.
"On your feet Avatar."
"Of course your majesty."
Kuarsa's lips curled as Kukuh curtsied in front of him, throwing his arms high in the air behind his back, bowing deeply.
"What now," he asked, "do you want me to kiss your hand?"
"Only if you want to, your majesty."
"Witty…" Kuarsa mumbled. "Now, come on!"
Kuarsa grabbed Kukuh by his arm, dragging him along.
Kukuh, who was still busy curtsying spun around, wobbling on his feet, tilting forward.
Had Kuarsa not kept dragging him along, he would have surely fallen. The haste with which Kuarsa dragged him along kept Kukuh on his feet, though Kukuh had rather fallen, so he could rest on the ground.
"No falling for you. Trust me though, you'll be happy you didn't fall."
Kuarsa took him to the sauna and the two got changed.
The damp air pressured Kukuh's lungs, the heat warming Kukuh's every limb.
His muscles had felt like they were on fire before they got into the sauna, now his entire body was heating up, forcing him to sweat even more than he had done during training.
The mud on his skin, his sweat had mixed with the sand and dust, slowly slid of his body, drooping down onto the floor where all lumps formed a little puddle of brownish goo.
"So Kukuh," Kuarsa said, brushing his hand over his chest. Little particles of dust were hurled into the open, floating about until they met the small droplets that pressured Kukuh's lungs so much.
"We need to discuss something."
Kukuh looked up, into Kuarsa's eyes. He bore an emotionless expression, his dark brows cast an eerie shadow over Kuarsa's face, making him look twenty years older than he actually was.
He gulped, knowing full well what this was about. He was twiddling his thumbs, looking away. Eye contact with Kuarsa was the last thing he wanted at the moment.
"You're not making progress as fast as I would have liked."
"But I am making progress?" Kukuh asked.
"Smiling at me like that won't get you out of this."
His apologetic smile disappeared immediately, Kukuh looked away again.
"I've tried everything I could," Kuarsa said, "and while you are making real progress in your physique, your bending is getting more and more behind on schedule."
"You have the potential however, I see it from time to time…"
"But?"
"But you're experiencing some kind of mental or spiritual block, preventing you to make proper progress on your basic and advanced bending."
Kukuh shook his head. Kuarsa couldn't be right, he felt better than ever.
"And I think I know what caused this block."
"What would that be?" Kukuh asked, rolling his eyes.
Kuarsa frowned, casting shadows over his face once more. He glared at Kukuh, a torch's reflection could be seen in his eyes.
Kukuh understood Kuarsa's look, reading the part amused, part angry expression on the prince's face and paid attention.
"You've told me about your travels once."
"Yes… so?"
"You've been on the run, ever since you knew you were the Avatar," Kuarsa spoke.
"You left your home, on the run. You travelled through the Earth Kingdom, no, you ran through the Earth Kingdom, fleeing from the water tribes. Even now, you're still running, not because you are in danger, but because you're unable to accept everything that has happened to you."
Kukuh needed only a moment to think about everything Kuarsa said to him, after which he shook his head, resolutely.
"You know it to be true."
"No, it isn't. It doesn't add up," Kukuh argued, wagging his finger at Kuarsa.
"Oh really, what doesn't add up?"
"I've always had trouble earth bending, even before the war started."
Kuarsa thought for a moment, wiping the sweat from his forehead as if the droplets were disrupting his thoughts.
"Weren't there things you've ran from when you were young?"
"No! Just stop asking."
"There must be something… there is no other possibility. My theory is just too perfect."
"There is nothing, I'm just not a great earth bender…"
They sat in relative silence after that. Kuarsa was softly thudding the back of his head against the wall, hoping it would help him think, while Kukuh sat huddled up on the bench.
He was biting on his lower lip, as the words of Kuarsa were slowly getting ground in his mind.
Kuarsa was right on one point, it would really fit everything.
Nine Month's into the Siege
"Nine months," Ghanak complained, kicking a little pebble into the open, "nine months into this siege and still no changes."
"What did you expect?" Adok asked.
The old man walked with chief Ghanak through the army camp, amused by his colleague's remarks, not only about the siege, and how long it took, but also about the simplest things of life.
Adok had always thought of Ghanak as a rather boring person, but ever since the chief lost his father and sought to lighten his grief in alcohol, he became a more interesting person.
Broken, damaged if you will, but interesting nonetheless.
The man was a handsome lad, possessing of a body and face Adok would have envied in his youth, and a talented bender, but above all, a shrewd tactician, a manipulator.
A smile, or a kind word, was all the chief needed to charm everyone he met, an endearing person, on first sight. Well-mannered, and possessing of a silver tongue.
Deep within, however, the man was just like every other man, foul and perverted, a monster.
A well-mannered monster, one that transferred all his desires into a need for liquor that couldn't be satisfied.
It was one way to deal with everything, Adok agreed, but not a way he would have chosen, nor a way he would see his children choose.
"I expected we would have intimidated them a bit more."
"To intimidate a city full of earth benders," Adok said.
"Have you been drinking?"
Sen's Winter Night
Wandering through the narrow streets in the lowest parts of Omashu, Sen wondered why he had followed Gan and Lua here. His stomach turned a little bit more, with every step he took.
He scanned the narrow alley intently, knowing well in what neighborhood he found himself in. Beggars crowded the muddy street, transferring their filth to anyone who dared to pass along.
It wasn't something Sen had grown up with, this kind of poverty he had never seen. He had grown up as the only son of the richest man of Hia-Pao, a shrewd businessman, whose intelligence Sen thought to have inherited. Yes, he was naïve, he knew that, but he had proven his intelligence on multiple occasions.
He knew exactly what was going on, on the other side of the thin walls. He heard the moans on the other side, hardly muffled, a bit fake.
Knowing that, he'd rather want to turn around, run away and hide from all he had seen and heard.
But, at the same time, knowing of all depravities, his interest was piqued, wondering why Gan and Lua would venture here.
It was that curiosity that kept him from turning around, that made him follow in the housekeepers' footsteps, even though he felt all but comfortable.
Gan and Lua entered a house, near the end of another narrow, beggar-filled street.
Sen sneaked, nearly pressing himself to the wall, towards that very house. Curiosity got the better of him, making he go where he knew he should not have gone. What would his mother have thought, if she knew what he was doing?
His father would have punished him, severely.
Suddenly, two cold hands grabbed him at his legs, bringing him to the ground.
His face glowed, he felt it warming up, until the pain kicked in after he started to recover from the initial shock.
The two hands dragged him inside, Sen tried to struggle, clawing about, trying to dig his nails into the dirt.
"Shush," someone whispered. Sen couldn't distinguish who, or what, the person was, shock and fear numbed his senses.
"Don't resist."
"You'll enjoy this."
"I promise."
Sen jolted up, looking around frantically as he sat up in his bed.
The windows were open, as they should be, and the door to his room was closed.
The cold winter wind blew in his heated face.
"A dream?"
Sen fell back onto his mattress, which was, unsurprisingly wet.
"A nightmare?"
But why couldn't he remember?