A/N: Quick note! I've changed the post date officially from Friday to Saturday, but next week you should have a chapter up Thursday. There are two more chapters left in the story after this one, and I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing!!
Aang, the Avatar:
Sandy grit worms its way into my fingers as I press my hand against the rough, worn battlement. Lines of people, formed like columns of ants scurrying for food, retreat in perfect ordered harmony. I see the sun reflected off of the metallic red armor, watch the streams of bloodied Earthbenders pull back into the city, and hear the deafening grind and roar of the massive Loyalist war machines' engines as they begin to fade off into the distance.
General Heung says we stopped them in time. He says that their scouts must have caught notice of the massive Earth Kingdom force coming to our rescue, that Xu is clever enough to realize that, even were he to take Dai Tso at this point, he couldn't possibly hold it. He says that this has been an incredible victory for the Earth Kingdom, that he thanks the Spirits every day for mine and Katara's involvement. He says that this battle will be written into the history books: the siege in which the massively outnumbered Earth Kingdom forces were able to hold off a Loyalist invasion for over a week until help arrived. And everything he says makes sense.
But as I watch the army pull away, retracting from the battle-scarred terrain in an orderly fashion, all I feel is a sinking weight of dread in my stomach. There's no explanation for it, nothing logical at least, but some force, whether spiritual or psychosomatic in nature, is tugging at my soul, and my mind races to search for something I might have missed.
"Aang!"
I turn, my field of vision shifting from the incredible wall of humanity to the interiors of the exhausted, battle-worn fortress. Oceanic blue eyes, refreshingly cool in the incredible heat of the sun, peer into my own, standing in stark contrast with the pleasantly tanned caramel skin of Katara. I smile, genuinely happy to see her, yet the expression of happiness is still marred by the overwhelming desperation that has seeped into my bloodstream.
"The General wants to talk to us!" she says, and part of the sadness I have is relieved by the return of peppiness to her voice, the upbeat positivism that I have so missed.
"What about?" I ask, allowing the air to enter into me, pulling me lightly from the high battlement and resting me upon the ground in front of her. Katara's dark skin stands out like a shadow against the lighter hue of sun-baked tan that defines the stone of the fortress; her piercing blue eyes are like bright pools of South Pole water, raining down and quenching the thirst of the fortress.
"I'm not sure," she says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Probably about dismissing the troops and wondering how to follow the Loyalist forces."
I nod silently, and follow her into the shaded innards of Dai Tso. Heung has set his office in an underground bunker since the main tower was demolished by Fire Nation artillery. The bunker is small and dusty, devoid of ornamentation or signs of office, almost as if to reflect the turmoil that has been breaking Heung down since the battle began. He greets us with a bright smile as we enter, but it stands out against the pathetic image of him as a whole. The finery he had swathed himself in as part of his position has become dirty and worn: scratches lace the dulled metal of his breastplate, broken up by the occasional dent or hole, the edges of his now olive green tunic are frayed and tattered, almost blending in with his once flowing hair, which has become so knotted and filthy that it has taken on the overgrown appearance of weeds.
Even his voice, though newly jubilant, sounds beaten and tired as he speaks.
"Avatar Aang! Katara! I am pleased you came so quickly!" he gushes, and I can hear the relief flowing like water down the back of his throat, "These are happy times indeed! What an immense relief it is to discuss the bureaucratic and officious issues of victory!"
I smile; despite our sordid past with the wily General, I am happy that his reputation will be saved. He was a man in desperate need of good news.
"Now, I understand that it is inconceivable for our forces to follow the Fire Nation Loyalists at this point, beaten and exhausted as we are," he begins, drawing himself up to his full height and tucking his hands behind his back, "And I would not presume to ask you, after all you have done for us, to risk your life further in pursuit, but I feel it would be prudent and wise to record a log of the precise direction in which the enemy has proceeded, so a pursuit force may be enacted by our soon-to-arrive reinforcements. In the mean time, I have perhaps one more task that I graciously hope you will consider."
My eyes meet his, peering through the glittering deep brown irises, but I read no signs of deception. Warily, I say, "Go on. What would you ask of me? I'll gladly grant it if I am able."
He smiles, accepting my caution without censure as he continues. "I was rather hoping that you might be convinced to deliver a sort of speech to the men," he says, walking lightly towards us, "Morale has spiked, to be sure, but every soldier has worked themselves to total exhaustion, and spirits are lower than they should be. The incredible forces within this city have performed like heroes, and hearing a message such as that from the great Avatar himself would, I feel, instill within them a sense of pride that they will carry for the rest of their lives. I know you are loathe to give such speeches, but I wondered if I couldn't persuade you in this extraordinary circumstance."
I force a smile, hearing the correctness in his words and genuinely desiring to make these soldiers as proud of themselves as they deserve, but at the same time, the sense of dread flairs up within me at the thought of celebration. "I'd be more than happy to," I answer, but I see matching eyebrows flair up on the faces of both Heung and Katara.
"Aang?" Katara asks, leaning down slightly and staring deeply into my eyes, "You have that look. Like some crazy Avatar sense is going off in you."
I look away, unwilling to meet her gaze, yet recognizing the fear in her voice and understanding that I have to be honest with the pair.
"I... I'm not sure if it's an Avatar thing or not," I say truthfully, "And I do want to give the speech. The men deserve it, and, General Heung, without your strategic smarts and quick action, we wouldn't have anything to celebrate. I've just got... this weird sense of dread. Like I'm not done yet. Like there's something nasty that were missing, that I should be getting to as fast as we can. I've meditated on it, but nothing has really stood out. I'm not sure what I should do."
Silence pervades the room, sinking into the dark shadows cast by the thick, heavy walls. Heung's smile dissipates as he ponders my words, and Katara has that intense, focused look that she gets when she's thinking hard. After awhile, I speak again, anxious to bring life back into the room.
"Look," I begin, raising my hands up through the air, "Even if it is an Avatar thing, we still have something to take care of. I can't desert the soldiers here when I have a chance to bring up the morale. So let's throw them a victory celebration tonight, in which I'll talk to them, and bring the city into a victorious, happy mood. Then, first thing in the morning, me, Katara, and Momo will take off on Appa to go bring up the issue with Toph, Sokka, and Zuko. I'm sure with the five of us together, we'll be able to think up something, and if we left early, we could be there by nine or ten in the morning. What do you think?"
The thought makes me feel better for some reason, deep within me, which is accentuated by the approving nods from both Katara and Heung.
Jiro, the Mouse:
I try as hard as I can not to look at her. My eyes dart furtively to other areas of the room, focusing on the thick sheafs of parchment on the table, the still-glistening lines of wet ink, the stylish curves of the calligraphy, but before too long, my attention wanders, and my treacherous brain brings her condition into my field of vision. She's strapped upright into a permanent standing position, held off of the ground by lengths of rope looped through the wooden restraints lashed to her hands and feet. The taunt ropes stretch and crackle, filling the room with their whine, inexorably drawing my attention to her.
She's tough, I can tell just from watching her. Her blank eyes stare into nothing, and she must have no idea where she is or what's going on, but her face maintains a constant stoic expression as though it were chiseled onto her face. She gives us no fear, no sadness, anything, and I can't help but admire her for it.
"She thinks she's tough, doesn't she?"
I look up, glancing at the soldier who played 'doctor' yesterday, fully armored today and tasked to guard the prisoner. The violent arches of the eye-slits in his helmet cast deep shadows that dribble down the sides of his face, merging with the deep black of his facial hair. A light smirk alights his face as he turns to look at the strung-up girl, the armor rustling and clinking noisily as he moves.
"Oh yeah, she's quiet and strong now," he teases, leaning down closely to her face, "But I'm sure that the General has some incredible plans for the enemy in the future. We'll see if she's so tough the-"
He leans in too close, the whisper of his breath wafting across the girl's face, and she springs to life in a flash. My eyes catch a lightening blur of black hair and pale skin as she cranes her neck for him, her teeth clenching down furiously upon the soldier's throat. My feet catch underneath me in a heartbeat, drawing me up as I see the wet glimmer of blood leaking down the side of his face. The rope bindings crackle and scream with all the action, but the noises are drowned out by the yowls of the soldier.
There is a dull thud that punctuates the noise as the soldier draws his fist back and slams it as hard as he can into the girl's face. As I watch the blow collide, I spring forward, my feet pounding the ground as I struggle to get between them. I manage to slip my hand in between the pair, and I pry backwards, ignoring the screams of the soldier and the deafening screech of his metal armor as I pull the flesh from between the girl's teeth.
"Bitch!" the soldier yells, as he falls back to the ground, slapping a hand to his bleeding neck. High-pitched laughter: small and girlish, yet filled with menace and confidence echoes around the room, filling me with an odd mix of both fear and pride. The girl leans forward against her bindings and spits roughly, leaving a trail of disgustingly bloody saliva strewn over the ground as she speaks.
"Oh he's quiet and strong now," she mocks, her grin marred by the dark crimson that stains her teeth, "But just wait 'til I get freed. How's your neck feel, pal?"
He opens his mouth to speak, awkwardly pushing himself to his feet with one hand as he covers the wound with his free one, but is interrupted by the squeak of a door. I see a familiarly-clad figure peek from the shadows of the doorway, throwing knives shucked in a bandoleer slung over his shoulder, but the man's face is far too scarred and puckered to belong to Singe.
The spectacles are gone, providing no shield between the world and his bright, malevolently amber eyes, peering childishly out. Swollen, irritated skin rises in disgusting welts across his cheeks, melting into crevices of scabbed over scars and skin. His matted hair seems even more so than usual, falling around his pulped face, but it all stands out oddly amidst his gleeful, mischievous grin. Somehow, despite whatever beating he took, his teeth remained perfectly white and clean, and the glimmer of his schoolboy happiness is even more disturbing than usual.
"What's going on in here?" he asks admonishingly, his voice carrying that odd constant facetiousness. The soldier looks stricken at the sight, the expression on his face mirroring the instantaneous feeling of dread that swims through me every time I see him. He manages to throw out a somewhat formal salute, keeping a hand firmly clasped upon his neck as Singe leans forward to speak to him.
"Wow!" he exclaims, grabbing the man's fingers and prying his hand away from the wound, "She sure got you, didn't she?"
The soldier's chest heaves as Singe inspects the wound and smears the blood away with his free hand. His eyes take on an odd glimmer at the sight of it, the way it dampens the clothing underneath his armor, the way the color matches the hue of his crimson armor. An uncomfortable silence ensues, broken only by the slow twisting of the girl's restraints.
"Boy, if I were you, I'd high-tail it to go get cleaned up," Singe says, his face inches from the face of the cowering soldier, "My pal Xu doesn't take too kindly to stupid negligence. Why don't you take off before you get a flogging?"
The soldier nods cursorily, disappearing behind the door with a heavy metal clang as it shuts behind him. Singe wanders over to me, a plume of dust wafting through the air as he plops down beside me, invading my nostrils and causing me to cough slightly.
"You know, Jiro," Singe says, wrapping an arm awkwardly around my shoulder, "I like you! You seem to understand things better than most of the human trash around here! And I appreciate you looking after the moron on guard duty. She probably would have killed him if you hadn't stepped in! Kind of funny, when you think about it...."
I laugh, politely, the chirrups sounding halted and small as I force them from my throat. Singe's grin widens at my obvious fear, his fingers lightly stroking my shoulder as he gleefully makes it worse.
"Don't be scared, Mousey!" he coos, rocking us gently back and forth, "You're safe now! In fact, if my pal Xu's plan works as well as I think it will, you'll probably be set in the lap of luxury for life! You did your job perfectly, and, if nothing else, Xu will make you an example to be praised by other folks like you! Stability! Constant food, no stress about stuff! Isn't that what you want?"
Despite myself, the words bring a modicum of comfort. Singe's voice drips poisoned honey, but my stomach has too many memories of nights without food, sleeping in squalor, struggling just to stay alive. Lap of luxury aside, just the idea of being fed every day, like I have been, makes my stomach grumble and brings a feeling of comfort that sits snuggly in my chest.
Then, Singe stands up to talk to the girl, and I am in conflict again.
He stands a fair distance from her, reaching out and tapping her tightly bound leg with his foot to gain her attention.
"And you!" he squeals, laughter bubbling through his voice, "You are one interesting and fun young girl, aren't you? So much fight in you! It's incredible!"
She makes a grin that matches his before speaking again.
"Come a little closer and I'll show you how much fight I have left."
I feel that weird mix of fear and pride bubble up through my chest at the sheer menace that she puts into her voice, despite her defenseless position. Singe apparently feels it as well, because he leaps from the ground, rapidly clapping his hands together as laughter pours from his throat. The grin seems to stretch across the entirety of his face as he manages to speak again.
"Wow! Oh, wow!" he gushes, "I felt some fear at that one! You would do it, too, wouldn't you? You'd attack me, even though I could kill you without even trying! I can see what that skinny guy with a limp sees in you, you're one tough chick!"
She doesn't speak, merely stares blindly into emptiness, the milky glaze that mists over her emerald eyes betraying no emotion whatsoever. There's something about her ferocity that, despite myself, I feel attracted to: the smooth, girlish sweep of her cheeks sharply contrasted by her staunch, immobile nature. But even as I look at her, I realize what must be more important to me. I hate what I'm doing, I honestly do.
But I've starved for too long not to get mine while I can. No one, not this girl, nor anyone in the government she is working for ever tried to help me, even when I was homeless and destitute in the streets. The guilt, now worn and stale with age, begins to subside under the memories of the harsh way in which I was forced to live, and I turn away from her, not keen on allowing the guilt to resurface.
"Anyways," Singe drones, waving his hand lightly through the air, "Came down here to bring you up to the auditorium. Xu's brought like, the last fifty or sixty Family members left alive in the city, and he's about to give a speech. Wants you up there! So let's go!"
He stands before the platform like a statue of a hero, posed out epically before the willing crowd. Feet shuffle and voices murmur as he raises his hand to create silence, the room emanating a general fear and confusion over the way their lives have been turned around by the recent Family slaughters. I find it hard to look at any of these folks in the eye, knowing as I do the role that Xu and Singe played in these attacks.
The General's face is filled with prideful stoicism, the smile that was permanently emblazoned upon his face as though drawn there miraculously gone as his voice rings out with clarity and power.
"Friends and members of the Family!" he begins, gesturing in the air, "My name is Far Xu, and I am the High General of the Fire Nation Loyalist movement. I have come to speak to you today because of an awful injustice you have received: a burden that has been placed upon you that no man should have to live with. I speak of course, of the recent attacks upon both a safehouse and an office."
"It is true, that I am not a Family member as you are. I represent a different entity, but our entities are intertwined! I personally knew Todhe, your leader, and saw the visionary that lay within him. He brought you all together not with the thought of revolution, but with the intention of creating a better life for all of those snubbed by the current system! And he did so, you all did so, by scraping the excess wealth from the overstuffed bellies of the rich and in power, who refused to help you!"
"Despite of what you may think, we are brothers. Brothers of a Fire Nation that is a shell of what it once was. It is true that the previous regime was one of martial law and discipline, too predisposed towards conquest to consider the rights of its people, but at the very least, it wasn't pulled from whim to whim by greedy politicians! Our movement, the Loyalist movement, seeks to restore not the Empire, but the Fire Nation: a peaceful nation that has pride in the people it fathers!"
"But, despite all of these things, I am not here to attempt to recruit you. That is for each man to decide on his own. I am here to offer you an opportunity to avenge the wrongs that have been thrust upon you! Todhe is dead, murdered by the current regime's Enforcers, sent in the dead of night to flout the law and the natural rights inherent in its citizens to serve the bulbous, hedonist Council and its wishes. Now, you are all hunted like animals, with no law or government to turn to. I offer you the opportunity to shed that fear, and become the citizens you deserve to be!"
"Brothers of a fallen nation, walk with me down this path, I beg of you. You have represented necessity in this country, been a part of a revolution that has taken the world by storm, refused to bow to laws that don't care for you just to die in a gutter! You have more dignity then that, more pride than that, and I know that you won't submit to their thuggish tactics without a fight! Let's give them one!"
The crowd roars in approval, the soldiers raising their weapons into the air and clattering them together. The sheer volume of the crowd's agreement reverberates violently in my eardrum, threatening to pop it as Xu allows a smile of satisfaction to spread to his lips. He turns for the podium, abandoning it without a word as he moves to great us, his footsteps and the clatter of his officious, garish armor being drowned by the excitement that echoes through the room.
"Nice speech, buddy!" Singe coos, the grin resonating across his face, "But do you really think that they'll all swallow that load of trash?"
Xu eyes us both, and I can see the cunning in his eyes even before he speaks. "Oh I don't doubt that some of them will see through it, but you have to remember that in their eyes, they're already dead men. The 'Enforcers' have been very thorough, so any opportunity to stop the attacks will be joined in a heartbeat."
He looks down at me, his dark, beady eyes searching up and down as though appraising me for something that I can't quite understand. Finally, he speaks again.
"You, boy, I must admit that you have a clever look about you," he begins, "And your work during the kidnapping was simply superb. So please, answer this question, as one of your experience must surely understand it better than most. What do you feel is the main reason that these people will join with us?"
A wave of sadness overtakes me, betraying my smile as I come upon the answer.
"Because you gave them a cause. They were just a bunch of thieves and beggars working together to stay alive as best they could, and you told them that they were actually working for a revolution, to make the world a better place. They'll grab a hold of it because it makes the guilt go away."
His permanent grin widens in slight approval as he rests a hand upon my small shoulders.
"Jiro," he says, using my name for the first time, "I feel that you may have a future within my army. Now we must go, and prepare for tomorrow morning."
Sokka of the Water Tribe:
My hands still shake with the frustration and the anger, despite my furtive efforts to calm them down. Each pulsation of my heart sends streams of pain into my broken hand and gashed stomach, but somehow, the pain seems far away: distant, unreachable. A sudden bout of rage rips through me again, flaring through my muscles, and my fist closes around the nearest wooden chair, tightening around the back as I stand and hurl the thing with all my strength against the hard stone wall. There is a very satisfying sharp crack that rips through the air as it shatters, splintered pieces of wood flying through the air as the rage temporarily subsides.
Toph's sick face suddenly reappears in the forefront of my memory: her rapid, heavy breathing, the flush of her cheeks, the look of pain stretched upon her face... All of these mix with the indelible fact that I failed her. Desperation swirls within me, mixing with a choked feeling of love, tainted by a poisonous fear of losing her. I'm so sorry, Toph. But I'm going to get you back, damn it!
My shaking hands scrape the shred of parchment from the ground, snapping it open in front of me as my eyes pour over the words once again.
We have the girl. Meet us in the Sozin Memorial Courtyard at 8 o'clock in the morning, or we'll kill her. Bring a chest filled with no less and no more than 100,000 golden pieces, or we'll kill her. You may bring a squad of your Enforcers, but if any of the Fire Nation Guard is present, we'll kill her. Any deviance whatsoever, even if we only suspect it, and we'll kill her. Our goal isn't to harm her, but we will if you leave us no choice.
The Family
Moronic! They take me for an idiot, but I can see why, when I let the damn false doctors into the room and left them alone!
My instinct brought me to Lo Dai almost instantaneously. He could have slipped her a poison at any time, and, seeing as he runs the Corps of Doctors, he could have orchestrated the kidnapping. The only problem is, there's no way that the entirety of the Corps of Doctors is corrupt, and I've already heard police and guard reports circulating throughout the palace that the Corps of Doctors Office, one of the most guarded buildings in the Fire Nation, had supplies stolen from its stock room. If Lo Dai was involved, theft wouldn't have been required. But if that's the case, then how could Toph have been poisoned? There are a million different situations in which something noxious had been poured down her throat. All that the attackers really would have had to do is find out about the request for a doctor, steal the uniform, and walk right through the gate. Though it may still be possible that Lo Dai is involved, and I'm certainly not about to trust him with any privy information, I can't point the finger at him with just this.
Of course, all this speculation is pointless right now, anyway. They apparently think I'm an idiot, that I can't see precisely what it is that they're going to do. All of the clues are written into the note: the time, place, Enforcers. But I'll show these bastards yet. Let's see them plan and scheme when I have time to outmaneuver them. I've got almost a full twenty four hours to set people up and prepare them with instructions. All I have to do is work.
The frustration dies down slightly as it finds a purpose, an outlet, and I walk to the doors of my room. I feel my hand jar in pain as the sling it is strung through accidentally rebounds against the hard, unforgiving wood, but I ignore it, gripping the cold metal handle in my unharmed right hand and clicking the knob down. As the door swings open, a stale stench invades my nostrils: the musty scent of the stagnant castle air, leaking through the open door. It tastes particularly foul as I exit, moving down the hall to find Mai and Ty Lee.
My footsteps echo loudly through the hallway as I push my injured body as fast as I can, reverberating noisily against the polished marble stone. My thoughts echo in the same way through my head, evaluating possible strategies and ideas to prepare. It is likely they have Toph restrained somehow, probably something made out of wood that prevents her hands and feet from touching the ground. That means that, if we manage to get her, we'll have to either carry her, restraints and all, or somehow cut her free from them. Either is possible, but both require a team that consists of several people, which, while it allows them to prepare for either, is more cumbersome.
A sudden transient echo of footsteps pulses through the air, catching my ears oddly and bringing me to a halt as I glance behind me. I begin to wonder slightly as I see the short, stocky figure of Councilman Wong approaching, flanked by four Fire Nation Guardsmen. Their armor glints lightly as it reflects against the polished marble, giving them a menacing air that triggers emotions of the past: running, fleeing, and fighting these types of guys. I wave at the Councilman, unable to bring up the energy it takes to smile, but he only scowls in return, the crinkled skin between his eyes drawing his eyebrows downward as his frown deepens.
"Councilman," I say, preparing to speak to him of the ransom note, "I have an emerge..."
"Sokka of the Water Tribe, Enforcer of the Fire Nation," Wong says loudly, speaking directly over me, "You are under arrest!"
My jaw drops open as I see the guards suddenly spring forward, planting their feet against the slick marble and leaping for me. I step to the side, tucking my injured arm protectively behind me as instinct takes over. Armor clatters deafeningly throughout the air as I draw my good fist underneath my armpit and swing it to meet the first man's approaching body. It catches him solidly underneath the jaw, snaking through the armored helmet and throwing him off balance. His knees buckle with the force as he goes down, my gaze suddenly alighting towards the other three, who have moved to surround me.
I glance back and forth, desperate to find a way out, but even as Councilman Wong speaks again, I realize that without the use of both arms, I have no choice.
"Sokka!" he shrieks, his jaw shaking with anger, "Stop this at once, or the charges against you will include resisting arrest!"
I freeze, eyeing him dangerously, searching his large, bug-like eyes for a weakness I can exploit to get out of this. As I hear the guardsmen approach, their armor slinking dangerously, I realize that I have no options, especially none that will be bloodless.
A huge sense of dread and desperation wash over me, sapping the strength from my muscles as I bring my good hand to my chest, clasping against the buckle of my sword-belt and unhooking it. The blade cries against the ground in protest, laying softly and uselessly upon the reflective floor as I raise my free hand.
The Guardsmen are busy at work almost instantaneously, tucking the hand behind my back and lashing it solidly. My eyes don't leave the Councilman as I speak, hoping against hope to instill a modicum of compassion within his bureaucratic heart.
"Councilman," I begin, "What are these charges against me? What could they possibly be?"
The desperation leaks through my voice, instilling it with a falsetto, shrieking quality as it leaves my throat and drifts through the air.
"Uncountable accounts of first degree murder!" he spits, baring his teeth at me, "I'm sure you already know this, but we discovered another horrendous butchering of suspected Family members in an office in the city, all except one killed by a jian!"
I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
"But that's not all! We found a Fire Nation issued sword, of the type only available to you and your Enforcers next to the body of a civilian girl! And we have the reports dealing with your injuries, how you refused to speak of how you obtained them, and how you crawled to safety from an unknown location! I'm sure it's just a matter of time until we can obtain a time-of-death upon the Family office that corresponds nicely with your mysterious sword-fight!"
"Councilman, these charges are ridiculous!" I insist, practically screaming at him, "You have no evidence that isn't purely circumstantial! How can you justify doing this?"
He begins to speak again, but I don't give him the opportunity. "Listen to me, Councilman, please, I'm begging you. I have a ransom note in my pocket. Toph has been kidnapped. I have to be somewhere in twenty four hours or they'll kill her. Now I'm begging you, please, just give me those twenty four hours, please!"
I nod my head down towards my pocket, where the parchment has been stuffed deep down. He rolls his eyes as he approaches, jamming his hand roughly into my pocket and prying out the piece of paper. It crinkles noisily as he unfolds it and glances at the written ink before pocketing it and speaking again.
"Sokka, you are a suspect in perhaps the worst butchering the Fire Nation has ever seen," he seethes, speaking through his teeth, "I see no reason to believe you in anything at all at this time. For all I know, Toph fled of her own accord to avoid returning with her father to the Earth Kingdom, or perhaps to avoid these investigations. Your trial date is set for a week, and your bail is set at 500,000 gold pieces. If you can make bail, then you will have your twenty four hours, though you will not be given a weapon of any kind nor allowed out of the sight of appointed Fire Nation military personnel, but I will be frank and honest with you."
He leans down to me as he speaks these words, his eyes filled with malice as they meet my own.
"I don't doubt your guilt in this matter, Sokka, and I don't care even in the slightest if your story is true. You will learn that you cannot commit crimes of this nature with impunity within our Country, and I pray to the spirits that you will not make bail."
I realize, as the lead weight drops into my stomach, that he will get his wish. I have no way whatsoever of making that kind of money for bail. I feel rough hands clench painfully against my arms as I am pulled forcibly into the dark, deep into the bowels of the castle.
And as the shadows of the windowless dungeon rain down upon me, sucking me up into their blackness, the totality of the Family's plan in this matter fully sinks down. As things stand now, I have no way out, and neither does Toph.
Zuko, the Former Prince:
The memories of pain stick deeply within my stomach, mixing with the current waves of violent stinging emanating from my cracked ribs and sending horrible pangs of nausea up and down my throat. I realized, even as I applied the balm to the enflamed, reddish skin of my burn and wrapped my chest up as best as I could, that without some key supplies, I wouldn't last long. My face is still puffed up from the fight with Sokka, the deep black bruise from my first attack upon the Family still screams every time I stand, and now, every time I take a step or breathe to harshly, my ribs violently protest, sending throbs of incredible hurt up and down my chest.
The first thing that I did was, miraculously, manage to pull myself back to my cave, where I tended to my wounds as best as I could. After sleeping for several hours and vomiting with the awful pain, I managed once again to pull myself upwards and leave the cave, where years of fighting out in the wilderness came to my rescue once again.
Somehow, I managed to stay awake as I rooted through the tufts of plants springing from the ground, my tunneled vision searching back and forth for a particular grouping of white flowers: small petals attached to a grouping of stick-like green stems. Even as I fell upon the incredibly common plant, forcing my hand into the earth and dragging it out, the sheer relief that I felt was almost enough to counteract the constant hurt.
I ground the flowers into a rough powder on the floor of my cave, which I mixed with some water to form a paste, and crammed the foul mixture into my mouth as fast as I could. I felt a dullness begin deep in my chest, spreading outwards and almost numbing my limbs in the process, covering the pain with a blanket of fuzziness that allowed the clarity to return to my mind.
Without pausing for a second, even as the night began to fall upon the world, I left the cave, wandering back down towards the city. The Corps of Doctors will treat me, and none of the wounds are suspicious enough to make them report me to the Guard. As far as they know, I am just a Fire Nation citizen with an odd burn scar upon my face. I'll be out of the city before anyone becomes the wiser, at least, I hope. I am without options at this point.
The going is treacherously slow, as I think before placing each foot down upon the ground, anxious to avoid worsening my ribs. My hands guide me as I push through, the full moon brightly lighting the forest even through the trees as I pick and choose my way down to the city lights, shining brightly in the silvery sheen of the moon.
This man, Singe, won't beat me. Next time, we'll fight on my terms, and I'll be damned if I'll let the psychopath get the best of me again. You just wait, you bastard. Your days are numbered.
Sokka of the Water Tribe:
The cell is impenetrable, at least for me at this point. No windows light the room: bleak solid stone, almost green in hue, kept bright only by the flickering crackle of the torches in the hall surrounds me. I tried digging into where the bars are ingrained into the stone, tried finagling the lock, tried to lure the guard close enough to steal the keys, but with absolutely no success. I sit upon the filthy cot, resting my head against the worn, rough stone, feeling it prickle uncomfortably through my hair. I let my neck go limp, the view of my blue Water Tribe clothes filling my vision. I look at the folds, seeing the patterns ripple across them, allowing memories of icy cold seawater flowing around a canoe to flow through my head.
A sudden, barking cry from the guard snaps me out of my revery, pulling my gaze from my clothes to the guard, rapping his spear harshly against the iron bars.
"You! Sokka! You've got a visitor!"
Confusion wraps around me as I stand, walking casually over to the bars and grabbing ahold of one with my good hand. The cold, metal texture rubs comfortably against my worn palm as I stare into the blackness, trying to see farther than the light of the torch allows. My surprise is total as I see the finery of the pure white and green robes, the gold medallion, the carefully stitched silver patterns, the pale white skin and dark hair, and I realize who this is.
"Mr. Bei Fong," I begin, my voice rife with the sarcasm that can only come from hopelessness, "What a pleasant surprise. Have you come for a nightly torture session?"
He stands against the wall, his arms folded, his posture perfect as he looks upon me. His green eyes are cast oddly in the flickering torchlight, shimmering wetly as the fierce red light glints within them. I can read the malice in his gaze, the barely controlled anger as he looks upon me, and I am not surprised as I hear it leak into his voice.
"Sokka," he begins, barely keeping the rage from his voice, "You are not one for silvered words, so I will level with you. I do not like you. I feel no sympathy for your predicament, and I would not be surprised if the allegations against you should prove to be true. I am here for one reason, and one reason alone. I want to find my daughter, and you will help me, or I can make your stay here very, very uncomfortable. Do you understand me?"
I laugh, the sound without mirth, carrying the frustration and rage I feel at my helplessness, not even sure if a smile has formed upon my face. His scowl deepens, the shadows cast by his wrinkled skin somehow appearing darker as I speak.
"You really think you can make my life worse at this point?" I ask, "Do you think that you wouldn't have my help in finding Toph? Listen to me, Mr. Bei Fong, as I tell you that your odd distrust of me may actually save her life."
His expression softens somewhat at the words, as I begin to explain the situation.
"I've been outmaneuvered... My own lack of foresight has pulled us into this mess," I admit, the desperation leaking into my voice as my eyes shift towards the ground, unable to meet his. "You know about the Family, you know how we've been fighting it. Aang, the Avatar, asked me and Toph to stay in the Fire Nation, to try and give this country some stability while he fought the Loyalist Army in the Earth Kingdom. The Family, the criminal organization, has provided major stops to electing a Fire Lord and bringing the economy of the country around, so Toph and I were made the heads of a special operations organization called the Enforcers. We'd had some great successes... until recently."
"It's to my everlasting shame, Mr. Bei Fong, that I only recently realized precisely what was going on. The Family was a surrogate. It's the Loyalists, it always has been, pulling the strings to get us to this point. They murdered someone close to the former Prince, Zuko, working through the Family and ripping his life away, counting on the fact that his emotions would push him towards revenge. Zuko unwittingly worked as a tool for them, breaking into a Family safehouse and slaughtering everyone inside, with swords so as not to be caught, yet unknowingly shifting the blame to me, and my Enforcers. I found him and tried to stop him... but he overpowered me, which is how I broke my hand and got this wound on my stomach. From there, the Loyalists must have moved fast, murdering another Family base in the city and planting evidence that would link me to the killings before Zuko could get there. I don't know if he's still alive, at this point, but even if he is, the Loyalists are almost surely trying to kill him, to prevent him from doing anything that could reveal them to the government or the people."
"Then... someone, somehow poisoned Toph. They did this for two reasons: one, to turn off her Earthbending, and two, to goad me, in my weakened state, to calling for a specialist from the Corps of Doctors. They stole the uniforms and walked through the palace, grabbing her and making off with her while she was defenseless, and they left me a note, telling me to be at the Sozin Memorial Courtyard at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. They... they want something specific. And they made sure that the evidence would be just enough to get me arrested, to prevent me from finding a way not to give it to them. But, I know all this probably doesn't mean much to you, except for the fact that you can post my bail so I can get your daughter back. You have the money, don't you? That's one of the reasons you're here, isn't it?"
I clasp my eyes firmly upon his, watching his scowl soften slightly, his own gaze falling towards the floor.
"I heard... rumors.. that you had insisted that she had been kidnapped," he admits, "And... as much as I find you to be lacking, in many areas... I have never been able to find myself disbelieving your attachment to my daughter, and I doubt seriously that you would lie about something this serious regarding her. What lengths would you go to, to see her safe?"
The tears of desperation finally worm their way out of my eyes at his confessions. Maybe the only redeeming quality I have, in the face of my glaring stupidity and lack of foresight, is the love I have for Toph. The tears stick wetly to my cheek, dribbling softly down my face and onto the floor as the words come out. Despite my efforts, I can't keep my weeping from working it's way into my voice.
"I would die for her. I almost did once. Anything," I say, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat, "I know... I know you don't like me. I see now that you have reason to. But the one thing we share is how much we care about your daughter. I know... despite my dislike for you, that you would die for her as well."
He sighs, the sound long and drawn out, whispering from his throat as he speaks again.
"I can bail you out. But eight will be arriving in only three more hours. Do you have enough time?"
I smile through the tears, tasting the saltwater upon my tongue as they leak through my teeth.
"That's plenty," I say, my relief total, "considering my only option. If you could also manage to get Enforcers Mai and Ty Lee appointed as my designated guards, and tell them each to bring eight of their most trusted operatives, we will have enough time."
He nods resolutely, saying "Give me an hour, and it will be done."
The robe swirls through the air as he disappears, and I am left with only the noise of his falling footsteps as I begin to prepare myself for the morning that lies ahead.
"Sokka, you haven't told us the plan!"
I glance back at Ty Lee, offering a small smirk as I continue at my hurried pace through the streets. The morning sun pokes out between the buildings, bathing the city in a gilded light that, despite the situation, is achingly beautiful. I realize that eight is quickly approaching as flocks of citizens pace furiously through the streets, clutching satchels and hats, their minds busy with thoughts of the work day ahead.
"It's simpler that way," I respond, as I round a corner. The peaking rays of light catch upon the beautiful fountain in the center of the Sozin Memorial Courtyard, casting freckled beads of gold upon the bright cobblestone. The clomping feet of my Enforcers against the stone road offers a fast-paced rhythm that cuts through the singsong voices of birds carrying through the air and the hurried murmuring of commuters. Questioning eyes glance at us as the men move into formation, Mai and Ty Lee standing behind me, and we begin to wait.
"Sokka."
The voice is feminine, yet lower and more gravelly this time. Mai's.
"I don't know what you're planning here, or even what's going on. I have a feeling a big fight could be on our hands here, and I might just leave if you don't start informing me."
I see the Loyalists appear from the other side of the yard; old-styled breastplates and helmets of crimson armor flood through the streets, the armor rattling and whining as they set up in a box-like, standard attack formation about twenty-five yards away. People, who I can only assume to be Family members, stand stock still in the center of the formation, looking on with differing degrees of confusion and resolution. My heart catches in my throat as I see Toph, her pale white skin glowing in the morning light, the resolute stubbornness cast upon her face despite the awful conditions she had faced. She is incredibly beautiful. I feel a small bout of rage as I see the way they have her tied: odd wooden 'mittens' and 'boots' lashed to her feet, strung up by rope to a large frame wheeled upon a tiny cart.
And, as I see the face of the boy, the one that I almost recognized with the false doctor, the young Family kid that I let go all that time ago standing beside her, I feel an unquenchable wave of sadness that saps the life from me. It eats away at hope and love, bringing me down into a pool of desperation as I begin to answer Mai.
"Fine," I answer, "The plan is, we give them what they want. They want one thing, and it's the absolute only way to bring Toph back alive."
Mai scowls even deeper, her voice replacing the constant boredom with an air of worry that surprises me. "What do they want, Sokka?"
"These... are Loyalists, Mai," I answer, "And what they want is a revolution. They want a civil war. That's why we're here, in public, in the morning, when everyone is waking up and going to work. They're not going to ask for money, they're going to demand that I come forward and confess to the two Family house slaughters. Then, as all the people passing by hear the words being exchanged, and as they hear the apparently awful things that I, and therefore the Council, have done, people will flock to the Loyalist cause in order to de-throne the evil government that sneaks into homes in the middle of the night to execute those who speak against it. And when I confess, when they have finished vilifying me into a monster, they will let Toph go, to show that they are merciful, good people. They'll leave her lashed up, so that you will have to find a way to release her and she won't be able to attack them long enough for them to escape, but she'll be alive and well, and so will all of you."
"We can't-" she begins, but I cut her off.
"It's too late!" I tell her, practically hollering in a mix of my own fear and frustration, "If I don't go and confess, then it simply means to the passers-by that we are willing to sacrifice lives to avoid taking responsibility. If we try to attack them, and steal Toph away, then it simply shows that we are a violent government that will sacrifice lives to avoid taking responsibility. They get their revolution, no matter what happens, but the only way to get Toph out of here is to give it to them in the way that they want. Do you understand?"
She says nothing as silence descends upon the scene, excepting the small singing of birds in the background. All eyes in the courtyard are staring at the two forces, watching and wondering what is going on. The murmuring has dissipated into nothingness, and I can almost feel the held breath in the chests of the participants. A man steps forward from the Loyalist forces, a seemingly permanent smile stretched across his features, the incredible ornamentation that adorns his armor reflecting enough sunlight to nearly blind me. I eye the forces, seeing the soldiers and the Family men, the boy, Toph, and catching the image of the bespectacled man that I saw through the wreckage of the fire all those nights ago. The glasses are gone, and scars of past violence stretch horribly across his face, but he is unmistakably the same man, as evidenced by the psychopathic, childish grin that stretches across his face.
"I see that you brought no money!"
The voice comes from the man out front, the apparent General, who speaks loudly enough to address both us and the surrounding crowd. His voice rings with clarity, filled with heroic conviction as though leaving the throat of Good itself, and not a mere man.
"We both know that you aren't here for money," I holler back.
His smile, seemingly fastened in place by the muscles of his cheeks stretches slightly, as he addresses the crowd once more.
"You, Sokka of the Water Tribe, a foreigner, acting on the behalf of the current Fire Nation Government, have crimes that the country has failed to charge you for! You stand before us, a free man, yet you are responsible for murdering over forty-five of its citizens in cold blood! The world knows your guilt, as you have made no effort even to hide it, so confident are you in the corruption of your Council, but we are here today to show you that we will not tolerate such behavior on behalf of the government! If you want your murdering Enforcer friend back, then you must come before us today, and come before the crowd that surrounds us, and admit to your crimes! Admit, repent, and accept your punishment!"
"Don't do it, Sokka!" The voice is Toph's ringing through the air, and even though it is gritty and worn with desperation and fear, I hear her soul carried through the air, sparking all the love that I have for her. It builds a rising warmth in my throat that reaches into my chest, filling me with a feeling of peace and happiness as I realize that she will live beyond this day. It may be hard, but she'll find happiness again. Her smile, her pure goodness, her incredible toughness, will continue to bless the world, and for a price so insignificant, so small.
"I'll never forgive you, Sokka, if you do what they ask!" she screams, "To hell with them!"
I take a deep breath, the warmth within me so violent, so energetic, that it infuses quavers within my voice.
"I love you, too, Toph," I shout, just loud enough for her to hear. A smile crosses my lips as I see the sun glint against her cheek, catching against the tears that are falling down. I love you. I always have, and I always will.
Ty Lee speaks again from behind me.
"Sokka, you can't go over there! They'll kill you! You're a dead man if you do this!"
I smile, sadly, locking eyes with her.
"We're all dead men."
I take a step forward.
A/N: Well there it is! The epically depressing chapter 11! I hope that it lived up to y'alls expectations! Hahahahah once again, you all impressed me with your intelligence, as absolutely no one believed for a millisecond that the note was asking for a ransom! Thats one of the reasons it was so fun to put a fake ransom in there, because you already know it's a goose-chase!
I love the speculation that I've been getting, really I do, and it's fun to see how its similar and different from what I have planned for the story. I'm absolutely dying to see what you thought of the twists in this chapter, of the Loyalists' true plot, and, most of all, of the writing of the last couple scenes! I tried really hard not to get too heavy-handed with the imagery, but it's just such an epic sacrifice on the part of Sokka that I couldn't tone it down very much. Was it too much? Not enough? Whaddya think?
Like I said above, two more chapters remain in this story. Next week will be the climax, too, so be prepared for crazy twists and riddles and lots and lots of action! Will Sokka go through with his sacrifice? Is there any way out for him? Find out next week!
Keep reading!
Superbleh11