End the Misery of the World
1.
The mist is dense enough to hide Republic City from its spires to its sewers, and it's like running blind through a cemetery. Never know when you're gonna trip on a stone and rouse the dead.
They need the mist. It's still so early there are nearly no Satomobiles about, but rather than take the road, they park their Satovan on the edge of the City and stick close to the buildings. Jutting street signs; deep potholes and filthy gutters; a bum, wailing, heartbroken. The wet air only hides the smell for the first breath.
Finally: they find the corner and turn it. The pressed-dirt ground of the alley muffles the sound of running. As soon as they burst through the door into a lightless, opium-stale antechamber, an old woman hobbles out squawking curses, skinny braid flailing. They down her in no time. She hits the floor screaming, skirts tangled in the manriki – but right away pushes herself up to paw at them. They leap back as a roar of flame lights up the corners of the room.
Woo-bin reaches her like a shot, deflecting her scabby little hands and jabbing her, da!-da!-da! in the suibun point, beneath her ribs. Mako knows the pressure points; he knows from the look on her pinched face the moment she loses sensation in her right arm; left arm. The Triad will probably cut off both her pinkies because she let them get past here.
He doesn't wait for Woo-bin to release her. On the door in the back of the room, an embroidered dào fú is still smoldering from the blaze. Mako grabs his knife and right through the character for happiness he carves: 平. Then he kicks open the door.
2.
One night at the roadhouse, when Mako is fifteen, a man named Amon comes to speak, and at first they all think he is either an actor or a religious fanatic, because of the mask. His voice is so careful, his motions so spare, that it is as though Amon knows everything that is to come and has merely slowed down in time to guide them, his followers, through the myriad intricacies of his elevated thoughts. He speaks articulately on the Spirit, the elements, the painful privilege of benders, the superfluous being the Avatar has become in this age. The group of listeners realizes he will not be taking off that mask. It is to shield his anonymity as much as it is to hide his suffering. A revolution flickers fast in the shadows of his eyes.
He speaks most poignantly of the chaos and the great ache that hold Republic City.
This city should never have existed, says one man. It was the best thing Aang ever did, says another.
It is what it is, says Amon, voice patient, but now we must not let it spiral out of control any longer.
3.
There is nothing more beautiful than the intervention of fingers precise as clockwork, damming the swirling paths of chi, stealing away the mystical sleight that is bending. Even if it is but temporary.
Temporary; for now, for now.
4.
One of the first times Mako sees Amon, he watches him exercise his fearsome power on a firebending burglar. The wooden walls of the roadhouse reverberate with the men calling for the bender's punishment, but then Amon is upon him like a shadow cat, nimble hands twisting the burglar's arms behind his back. The roadhouse chills and falls silent as he forces the man to his knees: are they about to witness an execution?
But Amon lets go, and to everyone's surprise, the thief stops struggling. He remains kneeled before the room with a terrified look on his face. His shaking hands seem to fight gravity as they move to hide his red face. "I see your remorse," Amon's dry voice carries to the ears of all the men there and they all listen, "and I swear you shall be forgiven for your crimes."
The masked man raises an arm and gently, gently, brings down his fingers on the thief's forehead. Mako is reminded of the priestess blessing his mother, so many years ago now. Amon stays like that for only a moment; then steps back. The man gurgles and slumps forward like a corpse. The more superstitious workers in the roadhouse mutter or cry out. What witchcraft has taken place here? Has it entered my soul through my eyes?
Amon's man the Lieutenant steps forward to stand beside him. His dark voice penetrates the hearts of all the men there. "Amon has cleansed this sinner of firebending. The spirits have granted him this gift: to take away the bending of the unworthy."
The pickpocket on the floor rallies with a desperate groan, and when he attempts to firebend at Amon, the silence from his hands is like a gasp of the gods. That is the day of the first miracle, and the first time the men in the room feel like they might be part of a great instance of change in the world. They look each in the others' eyes and see a brother.
Each man felt the thief's anxiety echoed in his own gut. Each man could have been a thief. The way things are, a man shouldn't be punished for trying to feed himself. But benders, now. They could stand to be punished, for their bending.
5.
The roadhouse never yields any visitors. It hunches in the shadow of the Future Industries metalworking factory. It is unassuming down to its mottled wooden rafters. It houses the factory workers who live too far to travel home. Mako has lived there since he was fifteen, sleeping with the other laborers in grotty, shuttered cells on third-hand pallets, and sharing a kitchen with roaches the size of rats and rats the size of buzzard wasps. The communal bath heats to rusty, lukewarm water in spring and fall; in summer, it is as tepid and dank as the air, the tiles covered by green film. In the winter the tanks freeze over, and nobody bathes. Rather go dirty than pay a Triad bender to thaw you out.
When they return in the Satovan, it is with five hostages chi-blocked to the point of paralysis and stuffed into burlap sacks. Several workers waiting for their shift come ambling out of the roadhouse, lazily watch the van pull up. Mako's mask and goggles are abandoned on the passenger seat as he moves to help them carry the sacks -ten in all, five of them full of pork haunches in case the police happen upon them. Woo-bin gives one of the twitching sacks a vicious little kick. "You bloody blister."
Mako smirks -something immensely satisfying about calling a firebender a blister. Having a firebender tied up and helpless as a smothered salamander is even better. The benders are brought into the common room and dragged out of their burlap kicking feebly. The chairs and tables have been cleared to one side in anticipation.
When Amon enters, everyone hushes. They are looking forward to the thrill of a cleansing. No one expects Amon to instruct them to put the benders in the cellar, with some water but no food. But that's how things go, with Amon. They cannot but follow.
"We congratulate our brothers on their victory today, and are pleased with their safe return." Is all Amon says after. The group of workers applauds Woo-bin and Mako like it's part of their job. "And we thank them for their contribution to the Revelation: which shall take place soon. We discuss the particulars tonight at supper."
Now the men are interested. There had been some whispers of a Revelation, some rumors to whet their thirst for a new, fair world. It won't be long now.
6.
Mako is thinking of the old woman's howling as they drove the craggy road back. Woo-bin slammed down on the Satovan's breaks and all the bodies in the back thumped together, making the woman cry louder. Woo-bin turned and screamed, "Damn you, shut up! You filthy rat turd eater! I swear I will hurl you from the bridge if you do not stop wailing!"
The woman's cries subsided. But Woo-bin was a cruel one, and he made sure they heard the Satovan driving onto the bridge before he stopped it and got out. How she did scream and beg then. Woo-bin grinned at Mako and renewed the chi-block for every pressure point for every hostage. Mako stared at him until he came back to the wheel and drove them the rest of the way. The damage a single firebender could do to the van was worth the vigilance.
7.
"Mako. Let us speak in the kamado."
The problem with the mask is that Mako can never tell what Amon is looking at unless he is close enough to discern the eyes. That body that moves so economically never reveals any emotion.
He follows his leader and the Lieutenant into the kitchen, pondering his use of the old word kamado. Amon's way of speaking is older; his accent different from the men who grew up in Republic City.
In the kitchen is a simple wooden table with carved stools by it. The Lieutenant motions for Mako to sit; he does. Amon seems satisfied to stand straight-backed behind the Lieutenant, even though there are other stools, and listen while he speaks. The darkness in the corners of the kitchen seems to jitter; Mako knows better than to look closely.
"Mako, we are very pleased with what you have achieved today. It is nothing less than a victory for our cause."
Mako nods once, in acknowledgement.
"We are also pleased that your information was correct. Earlier you said you could find out the whereabouts of several other Triad leaders. Does this still stand?"
"Of course." Mako could probably weasel out the whereabouts of every Triad member in the City.
"Excellent. As you may suspect, we have been planning a public.. appearance, for some months now. We feel our message would be most powerful were it to include the most powerful benders from every Triad in Republic City. It is vital that upon capturing them we are able to subdue them until our great Revelation."
"Of course," Mako repeats, waiting. As long as they are guarded by alert chi-blockers at all times, keeping the mobsters from regaining their bending should be feasible. Amon and the Lieutenant already know this.
"This is only the first step, Mako. Can we rely on you all the way?"
"...have I done anything to suggest the contrary?" He is aware of Amon's moon-white face turned toward him, hovering like a spirit in the dark light.
The Lieutenant's pale gaze bores into Mako's. "We have planned this in stages, and our final stage will not take place for some time yet, you understand. But when it comes to it, we will take the Avatar, too."
He tries not to physically stiffen. They knew, they knew all along, his thoughts roar. How did he even think he was hiding it from them? He had been convinced that side of his life remained shielded. He had worked so hard.
Keep looking at them. Don't blink too much.
"I never assumed differently, sir," Mako says. Amon and the Lieutenant seem to be waiting for more of a response. He refuses to give it to them.
Amon cocks his head to one side; a theatrical motion because of the mask. "Do you know Avatar Korra well?"
"Not at all."Mako can answer honestly enough. "I have spoken to the Avatar very briefly, a handful of times. I could not enjoy spending time in her presence."
"But you do enjoy your brother's company?"
When Amon doesn't keep moving he looks suspended in time. Don't avert your eyes. "He is my brother. Sir."
"He is, in fact, an earthbender." Amon is staring at him through the mask. "You are an Equalist, Mako. The men and women of the Movement are your brothers and your sisters. This is why I speak to you here; the kitchen is the centre, the kamado of our family. Here we mourn our lost soldiers. Here we celebrate our victors. The steel of our resolve is brandished here, in the embers of the hearth."
"Yes, sir."
"When we bring our Revolution, we need to know your priorities will be with your true family in the Movement, not your blood family members."
"Yes, sir."
"Can you promise us this loyalty, Mako? If he stood in your way getting to the Avatar, could you swear not to hesitate?"
He raises his eyes to them again. "He is my flesh and blood, and I swore to see to his needs when we were orphaned. But he belongs to the benders of the City. I take no responsibility for his cursed heritage."
"I shall remember your words," Amon says soberly.
Lieutenant shifts. "Mako, where is your mask?"
Hiding relief now, he blinks at them; his first reaction is to look around. "I took it off when we carried in the hostages-" he pauses. They watch him, patient. "I left it in the Satovan."
"In plain sight, for any stranger to see, son." The Lieutenant's voice is weighty and warm as a brocaded coat in summer.
Mako swallows. "I will be more careful in future."
"Some might misconstrue that as the action of a traitor."
Mako calmly, calmly lifts his eyes to meet the Lieutenant's. "I am no traitor." No inflection in his voice at all.
Amon rests his hand on the Lieutenant's shoulder. "Very well. Go fetch it from the van. Best to be more prudent from now on. Protecting the Movement is to be your foremost priority."
"Yes, sir."
"One last thing. Be ready to find the next Triads tonight and tomorrow. Stealth and speed are of the utmost importance in this matter, Mako."
Mako nods and leaves them in the kitchen, matter-of-factly jogs out to the van. He takes deep breaths. Woo-bin is just heading inside, Byeol beside him. They stop and Woo-bin pats him on the shoulder as he walks by. "Well done today, my brother."
"We were blessed by the spirits," responds Mako, and bows his head in greeting as his superior moves away. Byeol's shy grey eyes meet his and flutter away.
His mask rests on the bench that constitutes the passenger seat of the van, green lenses gleaming in the afternoon sun. He stuffs it in his jacket.
Behind him Byeol is still waiting. "Mako- I was thinking the kids need help for-" She stops when she sees his face.
I must be making a horrible face, he thinks, and shakes his head. "Not now. Let's talk another time."
Deep breaths. Collapses on his straw sleeping mat in the dank room he shares with five others. One man is sleeping, waiting for his night shift, the others are all out. Mako stares at the ceiling; he stares until he thinks he might be blind. They just issued him a warning.
They knew about Bo; all this time.
8.
"I believe him quite loyal," the Lieutenant observes. "He is certainly not the only one with the bad luck of being born into a bending family."
"No," Amon agrees, tracing the wood grain as it flows and divides across the table. "He is not the only one. However his connection to the Avatar cannot be discounted; nor his love for his brother. Blood runs thick, my friend."
The Lieutenant waits. Amon's mask glints as he turns his face to the window. "A test, then, of Mako's loyalty."
"Indeed. True dedication shall weather any storm."
There is a distant shout of surprise from the common room; one of the electrical lamps has popped.
"I still believe our newfangled system could stand some tweaking, no matter what Hiroshi says." The Lieutenant jokes in a low voice. "No chance you feel like joining me to repair the generator?"
Amon's head tilts into the sunlight. "I feel blessed that I may leave the struggle of technology in your hands," His voice is warm, "they are more than capable."
His own hands cast long-fingered shadows on the table.
Notes:
manriki - short form of manrikigusari, also known as kusari-fundo, which is the Japanese name for the length of chain with weights at both ends, used by the Equalists to disable their opponents. (on the Avatar Wiki this weapon is actually referred to as bolas, and while the shape may be more similar, there were no set rules as to how manriki should be made; therefore it seemed a logical choice to go with the Japanese terminology rather than bolas, which is Hispanic.)
水分 - Jp: suibun pressure point located between the ribs and the navel. Press your little finger to your navel; where your bent middle finger rests is your suibun.
倒福 - Ch: dào fú (upside-down happiness) sounds the same as 到福 dào fú (the arrival of happiness). For Chinese New Year people hang up the character fú upside-down to welcome happiness into their home.
平 - Ch: Píng [hei in Japanese] - level, flat, equal. As a verb: make the same score, suppress, put down.
blister - derogatory term for firebender.
rat turd - is a kind of tiny Thai chile pepper, known in Thai as Prik ki nu;
rat turd eater - derogatory term for firebender.
kamado - archaic Japanese word meaning stove, which is used to refer to the kitchen as the symbol of a house or household.
Notes: Disclaimer: all characters belong to Nickelodeon & Bryke's magnificent creation. This is my tribute to it. This is also a tribute to the cultures, myriad and wonderful, many of which (specifically East Asian cultures, and Inuit cultures) have been referenced in some way by the Avatar universe. I do not assume to be able to represent the splendor or sheer depth of the cultural heritages that make up the cultures in question, but if this meandering tale may serve as a stimulation to any of us to enter into a devoted pupilship of an aspect of any of these culture I feel it has served a good purpose. However, I must simultaneously warn that I am merely an imperfect acolyte, far from achieving any true knowledge of the great world. I can promise that I have done my best to research the cultural aspects represented in this tale; I cannot promise that I do them justice. Therefore any inadequacy should be considered a fault of mine. If you, my reader and fellow devotee, come upon an erroneous fact of any nature, please do not hesitate to alert me so that I may set right the grief and award the matter in question the respect it deserves. Furthermore a brief note is in order to inform you that yes, this is very much an Alternate Universe of the delectable Equalist!Mako nature. An author I admire in another domain of fanculture once used the expression "playing fast and loose" to describe her way of treating the existing characters; in my case, I have played fast and loose with the delightful characters of the Legend of Korra to mould them so they fit my needs entirely. My reader, you are welcome to comment as you see fit, but please think of this poor author with forgiveness in your kind heart always.