Smellerbee awoke one morning to find she could finally think clearly. Her wounds were healed and her leg had set; reality was reachable again. No longer under the haze of Ty Lee's medicinal jabs, she sat up and rubbed her head, looking down at her splinted leg. She still could not move it.
The room was dim, and the walls were cold iron. A fan was blowing somewhere, but it was hardly enough to keep the intense warmth of the room at bay. Besides this Smellerbee could see little, and perhaps the room itself was so barren there was nothing to see. Yet, even as she examined her quarters, a door was opened to her left; the light that flooded in was blinding, and Smellerbee was forced to shut her eyes. A woman came in her room, her face the picture of sunshine, her tattered clothing all a faded hue of pink. Obviously at some point or another she had been a dancer or performer; she moved about the room with such effortless grace it was entrancing.
"...Ty Lee?" Smellerbee tried, wiping her face. She was disappointed to find the paint had been washed off. The girl whirled, beaming, clapping her hands together in a gleeful way that made the more savage girl cringe.
"Smellerbee! This is great! You're finally awake! Now we can get you into some clothes, and give you some of that juk Haru made, and take you around the Boiling Rock -"
"Clothes?!" Smellerbee cried, before realizing she was completely naked under the sheets. Terrified and appalled, she pulled up the blankets around her defensively. "What the fuckin' hell? What the fuck did you do with my shit?!"
"Oh, watch that language!" Ty Lee said sternly, but still good-humoredly. "You had an infection, and a fever running for a few days. It's standard, stop belly-aching! I did all the work, its not like any men saw you in your skin."
The way she giggled, though, did not make Smellerbee feel that much better. What did make her feel better was Ty Lee approaching her with a washed, clean set of her clothing, although the intensity of her smile was till unnerving. With her leg in a splint and her body still relatively sore and stiff from lack of use, she consented (though not very willingly) to allow Ty Lee to aid in her. Her undergarments Ty Lee helped her with very quickly, and thankfully, for Smellerbee already felt extremely awkward in this situation. She tried to lighten it by turning the attention somewhere else.
"Where's Longshot? He's never around when I'm awake, is he? Damn all..."
Ty Lee paused as she helped Smellerbee put on her shirt. Something in the way her hands shook as they left the savage girl's shoulder made a horrible, nauseous feeling creep into Smellerbee's stomach. There was a long hesitation, in which Smellerbee waited, waited and wondered and dreaded.
"He... went out," Ty Lee managed at last.
"Went out?" Smellerbee said, annoyed and trying very hard not to let the fear grip her. "Went out where? When?"
The girl spun on Ty Lee, but the humor and sparkle in her eyes had vanished. The girl in pink looked at Smellerbee with her mouth open, as though the act would force words from her lips; but no words came, and for a moment the girls stared at each other. Smellerbee felt her heart beat fast in her chest.
"Where the fuck is Longshot, ditz?"
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The docks of Nar'yan-Mar were flocked with terrified people. It was one of the only remaining docks in the Union that had not fallen under Azula's control, and it was too far from the realms of the Chosen King to merit much attention from the Dai Li. The town was frail and small; houses were temporary and built hastily, to house momentary traders as they sold their goods over the course of a week or so. Fires were constantly burning, fed by the luscious white-topped forests that surrounded the harbor-town; buffalo-deer pulled great ploughs through the drifts of snow, ever-falling upon the town, to clear the way for traders and visitors. Snow coated the ships and ice clung to the shore; too close was Nar'yan-Mar to the arctic circle, to the undersea currents that led toward the top of the world.
It was for this reason, though, that people came. merchant vessels from the Aurora Tribe, who docked in this harbor every year to sell their fish and furs, found themselves bombarded with requests of escape from injured and scared refugees. The Aurora Tribe seemed like the safest haven beneath the ripped, war-ridden Union and the dark rumor of the East, and families besought every trader they could find to take them on the return journey.
Some merchants had soft hearts; they paid for extra food from their own pockets and took on as many passengers as could handle, primarily women and children. Many more merchants took who could afford to pay a fare - two gold pieces seemed the standard, and the passengers were required to bring their own food and water.
One such merchant was a man named Gashuin, who sold red bottom-fish. He had picked out a family of three with a young babe, two young sisters, three cloaked travelers, and an old woman to come aboard his modest vessel. He herded them on as the sky grew dark, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before the fires of war spread even to here, on the shores of the arctic.
One of the travelers did not speak to Gashuin before he boarded the ship. He was a silent, brooding, flaming-eyed man that Gashuin found himself afraid to confront. He carried twin tiger-hook swords, and nothing else. Gashuin disliked the stranger, but was too good-hearted to turn him away. In an effort, though, to avoid anymore passengers attempting to board the ship, he loosed his vessel from the dock as soon as all were boarded and turned towards the north. It was a relief for him to do so.
But as Gashuin's ship set off, another ship was leaving too. It had already taken aboard nearly all the passengers it could handle, and would be following Gashuin's ship back towards the Aurora Tribe.
The bell was sounded, and the second ship shoved off after Gashuin. But before the plank could be lifted, another figure slipped in quietly amidst the crowd.
His face was drawn, and his eyes were dark.
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Jee's scouts were well spread by the time Zuko left Al-Sahir in triumph. They had ridden with fire at their heels, borne his banner of flame in warning to all Acchain Lords. A Conqueror had come.
Some Lords laughed, and said it was a young brush-boy with a foolish, arrogant dream, probably the son of some rogue lower-General (lower Generals typically were of a poorer sort than those like Jeong-Jeong and Bato; although there were no real ranks of honor among Generals, these kind did not command the same doubtless respect. Many of them had attained their positions through deceit and theft, and though such things were not uncommon in Acchai, it was frowned upon among the General ranks. Generals should command respect through fear and strength, and little else). Zuko's defeat of Jee and Qin were not regarded as much to the higher Lords in Acchai - such Lords and properties were far on the edges of the war-land, too close to the Desert and the mountains to be considered safe from sandbenders, from the Thieves of Gihad. No real gain was ever seen in acquiring such land, so the rumor of some usurper from those parts of the world was like taking lions from chicken eggs. No one much regarded the banner of flame when it was brought before them, and very few even deemed the new Lord would last long enough to reach the edges of their lands.
Yet, Zuko's message of the Avatar's return had an unsettling affect on many Lords. The legend of the powerful being had long been whispered in the corners of Acchai, sine 500 years before and the forgotten downfall of the Fire Nation. Little heed, however, was given it, as not a sign or wonder had ever appeared to inspire hope. But now the Lord Zuko rode across the barbarian land proclaiming to know the Avatar's identity and support his return - a bold and dangerous move, and one even the most confident Lords knew Zuko would not make without reason to support him.
So while these Acchain Lords attempted to disregard the young Lord, they found they could not. Rumor of the Avatar made the people stir and the servants whisper; it made the soldiers hesitant at the thought of doing battle with the firebender. In a short time all the Lords of Acchai would seek to slaughter this Heir of Agni, simply to keep substantial control over their people.
Jeong-Jeong and Hakoda both knew this. It was what irritated the General to a point beyond wrath, angry at Zuko's apparent mercy. The firebender would have a worlds and armies of savages - skilled, merciless, and blood-hungry savages - upon his head soon enough. He would need to prove the capability to be swift and unhesitant, bloody as any barbarian Lord. Otherwise his carcass would lie upon the sand before a week.
Hakoda, however, had respect for Zuko's mercy. It reminded him of the Chiefs of the Aurora Tribe, of the faithful men and women who went to their deaths in the Black Lane. It reminded him of his dead lover, the woman he should have made his bride. And in a prideful way, it reminded him of himself.
"Try the pipe again, Zuko," Hakoda offered, raising the weed to him again. It was near sunset, and Zuko's army - for he was proud enough, now, to call his force of men an army - had stopped for the night beneath the shadow of the hills, on the edge of the Hamun-Jat river. Zuko laughed and waved the offer away, concerned instead with his bowl of okra stew. A pot of it was hanging, simmering over the fire that Zuko - along with several Generals, Sen Su, and Lee - had gathered by.
"Give it to Sen Su, Hakoda, he'll like it," he offered, laughing to himself. Sen Su perked up from across the fire and looked quizzically between the two men.
"Like what, Lord?"
Hakoda handed him the pipe, whereby Sen Su effectively inhaled, coughed, spluttered, choked, and handed it hastily back to the Wolf Clan Chief. Lee protested heartily when his brother refused to let him try.
"Why not! Come on Sen Su, you did - that's not fair -"
The other men around the fire chuckled at this, and suggested Hakoda let the boy try - a request the Chief flatly refused. Even Jeong-Jeong had less of a stone-chiseled face than usual, but this was not apparently due to the mirth of the fire-side.
"You did well at Al-Sahir, Zuko," The General spoke suddenly, catching the firebender off guard. Jeong-Jeong's eyes were relaxed, but still intent and iron-like in the firelight.
"...Thank you, General," Zuko said hesitantly. He knew there was something else coming. The General took a swig from a drink of his own soup.
"I half-expected you to leave the coward alive," he said, after wiping his lip. Zuko's insides grew hot.
"I am not so much of a fool, you know," he declared.
"One can hope," Jeong-Jeong consented. Zuko tiredly decided that was the closest thing he was getting to a compliment from the General.
Suddenly Myobu sprang up, overturning the pot and sending hot soup across the barren ground. The steaming liquid was swallowed in a moment by the starved earth, but amidst the curses and cries of the hungry and upset men, Zuko remained still. Myobu's black-tipped ears were forwards, eyes aflame and terrifying, every hair upon his stiff and alert and wary. His lip had curled back just enough to show the edge of one glittering, blinding white tooth.
"What is it, Myobu?" and for a moment the cursing stopped around the circle. Even Jeong-Jeong turned to look at the frozen Spirit-fox.
There are shadows on the hills.
Zuko stood slowly from beside Hakoda, placing his bowl and spoon upon the ground. With his other hand he reached slowly towards his sword-hilt.
It took a moment. Zuko's sword flashed out in the low light, and Sen Su was on his feet, arrow to the string; Jeong-Jeong had roared and drawn his bladed club, white fire rushing from his mouth. Hakoda calmly drew his own spear, and Myobu bristled and began to snarl, flaming eyes drenched suddenly to deathly black, limp forgotten, demonic in the wrath of his being.
"To arms! Aja, to arms! To me!" Zuko's voice didn't seem loud enough against the growing tumult from the east.
A wave of men on horseback was pouring over the high hill, thundering down the hard earth like the striking spear of a war-god. In a blind stampede they crossed the shallows of the river Hamun-Jat, sending up showers of frothy white, glittering in the sunset. Their armor was crested with the pictures of a raven, having a chain around its neck; the symbol was that of Lord Mongke, a giant, ape-like man who's estate was further to the west. Zuko had been leading his army in that direction on the advice of Hakoda, who knew the powerful Lord Mongke to be the nest weakest Estate in Acchai.
Zuko's men could assembly quickly, but not quickly enough. They had not been involved in warfare for some time at Qin's estate, and there had not been time yet for Jeong-Jeong and Bato to condition them again. Sloppily their armor was thrown on; arrows were fired into the approaching army before Sen Su or Zuko gave any signal. It took five wasted minutes to group them into formation, the benders still scattered throughout the fray. Zuko worked with what he could, as the first volley of arrows from Mongke's army sang through the air.
Zuko cried out and order and earthbenders ripped up stone walls; men with shields fell beneath them, while men without threw themselves behind coaches and camels. Three only fell with arrows in their throats; many more were wounded in various places before they found cover. Without the earthbenders scattered about the perimeter of the army, as was Zuko's original intent for defense, the men divided into three sections. Jeong-Jeong managed to remain with one, and Zuko with another; but the third was left leaderless and formless, as Mongke's army parted expertly to attack all three sections at once.
Sen Su led the first wave of archers in return fire within Zuko's unit. Four men fell, one to the young soldier's expert aim. Hakoda lobbed his spear and took out a Captain; then the identical gusts of fire sprang from Mongke's men, dancing in curling spears and tongues of flame towards Zuko and his men. Zuko threw down his swords and gave his whole concentration into deflecting the great rivers of fire - another firebender or two aided him and the flame sped up and around their forms, attempting to channel it away from the main contingents of men. Zuko's efforts were fairly successful in this, even so far as deflecting the flame back upon the advancing army. The other firebenders were less skilled and could only redirect some flame, leaving the majority of it to crash into whole groups of defenseless men.
Wrath poured through Zuko when he discovered this lack of skill and discipline in the firebenders around him. Angrily he ordered them to redirect the fire towards the east, where no men stood in harm. The army, however, was close enough now to have drawn sword and spear, their faces masks of triumph and bloodlust, their approach unstoppable.
He drew his swords, sharp and gleaming, but Zuko knew the outlook was grim. Even separated into three factions, Mongke's army outnumbered his men - vastly, impossibly outnumbered them. He gritted his teeth, prepared himself for the worst and tried to plan a route of escape, even though he knew there was none.
Zuko was aware, suddenly, that his life was about to end. He marveled at the abruptness of it, how minutes ago he had been gathered at the campfire, laughing.
He realized why death was not so foreign in Acchai.
Wildness entered him, a fresh and fighting wildness that he had not had the strength for when death faced him on the Rope Walk. He faced death now with savagery, and desperation, and the will to fight.
And then the Spirit-fox was yelling beside him.
To the north! Look to the north!
Another massive shadow was pouring down the northern hills. Zuko sacrificed a moment to look the way Myobu had called; his heart failed him when he saw the second army, with new banner and new emblems, crashing down from the north. Their armor was black leather and black cloaks flowed behind them; their eyes were cruel and cold, like the eyes of the undead. They reminded Zuko of the Shifters in the Desert and his wildness and strength was stolen from him, outnumbered, outmatched.
But he despaired only for moment, until he realized the second army was not approaching his own. They were galloping straight towards Mongke's forces at high speeds, and Mongke's men seemed distracted and unsettled by it. One General raised a cry of alarm, which another General attempted to shout down; confusion entered the army, and all too late, for the wave had fallen upon them. The black horsemen drove straight into the side of the Lord Mongke's army, scattering their formation and driving them sideways back to the river; one General (the same who had given the cry of alarm) let up a great cry in a language Zuko didn't know; Mongke's men turned in one accord, kicking up dust behind them as they went, and fled headlong from the driving charges of the black-cloaked army.
For a moment dread returned to Zuko, that this new force would now turn its attentions on his own soldiers, and he prepared another rallying cry, gesturing for Jeong-Jeong. The black army, however, did not pursue Mongke's army nor turn upon Zuko's. As though they had accomplished there goal, they stampeding men slowed to a trot, and then stopped at the edge of the river. They did not seem to regard Zuko's army at all.
As the separated soldiers returned to Zuko's unit, Zuko watched the black army. A small party was moving from within it in the direction of Zuko's scattered forces; the firebender watched this small contingent intently as it left the fold of the army and crossed the dry earth, holding up branches of peace.
Anticipating the arrival of a General, Zuko went quickly to mount Randhir, calling Sen Su and Jeong-Jeong to him.
The contingent came slowly, and as they approached a mounting tension grew within the army. Enemy or friend, this black army had interrupted a conflict between two forces - and even if it was for the aid of Zuko, it was still uncalled upon, still disrespectful. Even Zuko knew this, and he watched the approaching General with concentrated fury.
But no General approached. The figure leading the contingent stopped several feet from Zuko, surrounded by her body-guards.
Zuko was growing accustomed to seeing women with the niqab now - but he was not accustomed to seeing women here, in the field of battle, amidst the gore and bloodshed of Acchai. When the women rode up towards him on her painted horse, silver-embroidered black sari and niqab dancing wildly in the eastern wind, he felt himself freeze.
She was old, he knew at once. Not terribly old, not enough for gray hair and canes - but she was beyond youth, and it showed in the deep lines etched around her steely grey eyes. Her eyebrows were high, thin and piercing, and in a distant way she reminded him of a very bony crow. She herself was not so thin, but not so large; her shape suggested a loss of young feminine firmness, leaving in its place a more unattractive, loose shape. It was natural for her age, to lose the figure of her youth, but her overall frame suggested a level of comfort and leisure in her life that had allowed her to neglect her form. She compensated with overdone eye-paints and long eyelashes, and many rings on her thin fingers. She did not introduce herself
"I received this a few days ago from a scout of Jee's Estate..."
The long roll of blood-red clothe, with the Agni insignia of bright flame imprinted upon it, unfurled from her palm. It floated gently in an eastern wind, curling around her black-clothed wrist.
"...and it surprised me," even though the crooked light in her eyes revealed more of a twisted pleasure in it. "Lord Zuko, of Agni? I have heard nothing of you, until this moment. And to bring news of the Avatar with your cause..."
"All that was said was true," Zuko stated flatly, glaring fixedly at the woman mounted high above him. "And I see you know me already."
"You must be dying to know who I am, then," said the woman in a vague, flirtatious manner. It made Zuko's skin crawl so badly he felt like a hundred cockroaches had just nestled underneath his skin.
"I want to know why you interfered. It was not your business."
"You looked as though you could use assistance, Lord Zuko."
"Your help was not needed."
"Ha!" the niqab puffed out a bit as she let out her teeth-grinding laugh, and Zuko was vaguely aware of a wounded Sen Su walking up beside him, arm wrapped in bloody clothe. He had been struck from one of the first volleys of arrows, and was in an all-sour mood. "You should be more grateful, Lord Zuko. When I heard the Lord Mongke had sent forth an army to destroy you, I could have ignored this news and remained on my satin couch, eating pomengranates. How fortunate for you that I decided otherwise."
"Again, you assume I had need of your aid," Zuko persisted, and a grin lit up her eyes.
"...You are young, Zuko," and there was a twisted way in which she observed his youth, his conditioned frame, the savage, furious, unquenchable fire in his eyes. "Yes... young and bold and fierce. Never has a Lord attempted conquest of all of Acchai, and yet... you are new to the war-land, aren't you? You have the feeling of a Union man about you."
Zuko's felt his insides grow hot. In his months in Acchai he had steadily grown less and less apart from the world he knew as a student at the Academy, as a rogue in the streets of Balda Haram. He hardly thought of or considered things of the Union anymore - Mai was a distant and disappointing memory, his family long lost, Jet and Longshot and Smellerbee forgotten. Real to him now was the sweat and blood of the war-land, the dry dust in his lungs. His friends were the glare of Jeong-Jeong and the smile of Hakoda; Sen Su's steady loyalty and Myobu's silent gaze. Real to him now was the blue necklace wrapped around his wrist, the sweet and salty taste of warm, soft, perfect crimson lips. An unveiled face beneath a thousand falling stars.
"Through blood and pain, Acchai has made me," Zuko found himself whispering in response. And then suddenly he found himself comparing this woman to Mai - arrogant, self-loving, snake-like. The resemblance was haunting, eerie, uncanny.
"It is strange. You are strange. The mystery of you intrigues me," and the snarling smile came into her eyes again, and Zuko's blood ran cold. She reared up her reins as his own hands tightened on Randhir's; turning her steed northward, she allowed one more sly look to glance over the firebender.
"My name is Lady Kwan, as you must have desire to know. My husband, the Lord Bonai, owns an Estate to the north, just past the river Sakarya Nehri. I would much appreciate if you would visit us there... perhaps not in conquest, but in friendship -"
"The Lord Zuko has no friendship with snakes," Sen Su spat, before Zuko could attempt a response. Instinctively, as Jeong-Jeong had taught him - and though he knew Sen Su to be correct - he hissed aside to the soldier:
"I did not permit you to speak. Keep your tongue behind your teeth."
Sen Su looked surprised, only for a second. Then he whispered a "Yes, Lord" and slunk back to glaring at the Lady Kwan.
"Interesting," Kwan looked haughtily, studiously from soldier to Lord. "I find it imperative to tell you then, Lord Zuko, that your army seems headed towards the Lord Mongke's estate. I hope you hide more men beyond those hills. I'd believe the group of soldiers whom attacked you were but a third of his force."
She spurred her horse then, without a goodbye or a send-off, leaving him obviously humiliated in the fell over the army; only the distant cry of Kwan's men, coupled with a neigh or two of the horses, struck the air. Zuko felt his embarrassment as intensely as the beating of the Rope Walk, as the grip of death that had handled him in the depths of the library with Wan Shi Tong. He remained still and poised upon Randhir for a long moment, watching the retreating army until they disappeared over the hills, into the red rays of the sunset.
"Lord?" Sen Su asked, hesitantly. The friend he had laughed with around the campfire, the kindred spirit he had connected with in the courtyard of Qin's estate, had shifted suddenly into a very quiet and infuriated Lord. It reminded him vaguely of Jeong-Jeong - though he dare not say it, for fear of offending the General.
"Sen Su, get Jeong-Jeong and Hakoda to meet me by the river. I must speak with them alone. Mybou, with me."
Very well.
Zuko galloped off with Myobu at his heels, and Sen Su did his duty. Yet, as Myobu had once warned the firebender, a doubt was growing in Sen Su's delicate heart; placed there by lack of discipline, of respect, a little doubt grew.
Jeong-Jeong arrived before Hakoda on his tiger-stallion, but thankfully did not speak, waiting patiently til the Chief arrived. Zuko was bent over the shallows of the river. There were hoof-prints in the mud of the river-bed, eerie reminders of the brief but unsettling battle that had taken place moments before. The swiftness of which the battle began and ended had still phased Zuko somewhat; he could not quite believe, even now, that it had been more than a dream. He was beginning to understand - as he understood in Jee's court, and Qin's court, and in the merciless eyes of Lord Fong - that this was the war-land. This was the reason the soft nobles in the Union feared tell tales of the barbarians, because even they knew, on some deep level, the nearness of death in Acchai. One step over the wrong hill and the light would be gone from your eyes.
And here Zuko had sent a banner of flame throughout the war-land, challenging every mad, ruthless Lord. Stirring their wrath. Death would be at his heels from now on, a constant and terrifying friend. Myobu could already see the shadow of it hanging above the firebender's head.
"Zuko?" Hakoda had arrived, dismounted his ostrich-horse, and began the conversation hesitantly. He knew the young Lord was infuriated and embarrassed. Jeong-Jeong kept silent, and watchful, beside Myobu.
Slowly, gently, Zuko cupped the river water in his hands and closed his eyes. He splashed the cool, sweet liquid across his face, a momentary relief from the stifling heat of the war-land. He imagined the water dripping down his cheeks were her fingers sliding on his skin. He looked down into the river, and imagined her sparkling blue eyes in the stirring, glittering surface of the water.
"Zuko, you should make back to your men. Re-group them. If we attack Lord Mongke's estate in the night -"
"The Lord Mongke?" Zuko roared it, whirling, flame spitting between his teeth, form of living fury in the sunset. Hakoda froze, stern and staring in the face of the firebender's wrath, as Zuko approached him in accusation. "Attack him? Did you not see the strength we just faced? You told me he was weak enough to take!"
"He is the next weakest in Acchai!" Hakoda persisted. "You must remember that Jee and Qin had small estates - Mongke's is of average size to an Acchain Lord. I had faith that you, as the chosen Conqueror, would believe and see -"
"You had faith?" Zuko spat at the Cheif. "You would hang the lives of all these men on faith? Faith in what? That somehow ten thousand more men would come to my aid at the gates of Mongke's estate? How do you expect me to conquer Acchai when you do not even aid me in the knowledge of my enemies?"
The Wolf Clan Chief glared intensely at the firebender, but Zuko was resolved and unbreakable. Jeong-Jeong sat down beside Myobu as the two men stared fixedly at one another, seeking dominance; a brief flitter of amusement had crossed the stone surface of the General's face.
"I had faith, because it is your destiny," Hakoda said coldly.
"A poor excuse for suicide," Jeong-Jeong added, and Hakoda frowned angrily at the General.
Zuko said nothing; only turned back towards the river, brief flames glittering between his fingertips. He was beginning to desperately despise whatever self-righteous, son-of-a-bitch god had decided "destiny" was such a damn good idea.
Hakoda allowed silence to fall for a moment. Jeong-Jeong did not speak again, and the Chief took this as a cue to once again take up the mantle.
"We can only do what we must, now, and have faith that the spirits will guide us. We can take Mongke's Estate by night -"
"Take it by night?" Zuko snarled to himself. He had never felt so humiliated and inadequate as he did in that moment; even as living shit in Balda Haram, he thought more of himself, paired beside a grinning Jet and his misfit companions. Here, his failure was evident, inescapable, inexcusable, and he had no choice but to acknowledge it. Again he faced the Aurora Chief.
"The Lord Mongke just attacked our caravan with a third of his forces and nearly slaughtered us all. If that disgusting woman hadn't shown up - none of us would have a destiny anymore, except to feed jackals. Take it by night? You're not speaking on faith anymore. You're speaking like a fool."
The General Jeong-Jeong let out a halted, snorting noise that could have easily be considered a laugh. Hakoda's fists clenched, and he stepped forward towards the firebender. Hakoda himself was only a few inches taller than Zuko, but he towered over the heir of Agni in a seething, subdued rage.
"I offered my service to you. I offered to guide you. You will not disrespect me."
Zuko was not intimidated. Not even for a moment. He was beginning to realize he could not afford to be intimidated anymore.
"We need more men. That you cannot deny."
And slowly Hakoda's rage faded, and he stepped back from the firebender.
"Now you think more clearly," something akin to approval had flittered across Jeong-Jeong's face, but it was not apparent in the steel bite of his voice. "Strength is needed to overthrow Lords. Loyalty of men.... Not a high sense of destiny or fate."
There was bite in his last words. Hakoda cast him an icy, defiant look; the General remained as ferocious, as calm, as terrible as ever. But none of them volunteered a suggestion; none of them knew of an answer to the issue. Three great men - a General, a Chief, and a Lord - gathered by the side of a still river, with no hint of an idea as to the fate of the war-land they stood in. No knowledge of how they would accomplish what destiny had set before them.
"...We need more men," Zuko repeated softly to himself, wondering at the odd impossibility of it. Useless, because he knew that none of them knew where they would find more strength in numbers.
Zuko.
It was the first time Myobu had said Zuko's name (but then again, the Spirit-Fox never moved his mouth, so was it really speaking?) and it had a unsettling affect on the firebender. He shuddered and turned towards the Spirit-fox, who stared at him with fiery amber eyes, reflective of the lights in the high Void.
I know where you can go. But it will risk your life as dearly as any venture against Mongke.
"Will it strengthen us?" Zuko ignored the fleeting look of disdain on Hakoda's face. Jeong-Jeong remained silent, watchful; his eyes were still approving of Zuko, but suspicious now of the Spirit-Fox. Myobu was limping obviously now in one leg - but in Jeong-Jeong's steely gaze that did not excuse the spirit-being, especially from the fact he had not participated in the fray with Lord Mongke's men. Jeong-Jeong had no trust for Spirit-Foxes. He was still, as neither he nor Myobu had forgotten, a betrayer of the Fox's cry. It was only a matter of time until the Hunt began for him.
Yes.
Mybou's flaming eyes were calm and collected, and he was so still against the driving wind it almost made Zuko's eyes hurt.
"You're sure?"
Doubt and lies are no longer of my nature.
It was an extensive and eerie answer, but Zuko took it.
"Fine... fine," Hakoda muttered when he saw the acceptance on Zuko's face. "Where do we go then, Myobu?"
He must go alone.
Myobu's eyes were still on Zuko, and they seemed to freeze his heart.
"He will not go alone," Hakoda snarled, and even Jeong-Jeong stood in support of the Chief's demand. "One of us at least must go with him -"
No. That is not the way.
"And what way is that?" Jeong-Jeong's voice was hard and death-dealing. "The way where you slaughter him in the wilds while Mongke's men slaughter us?"
A terrifying, growling snarl escaped Myobu, and Jeong-Jeong's fists instantly wrapped to white flame.
"General!" Zuko shouted, and both parties paused before the confrontation could begin. Zuko's kept his eyes glued on Jeong-Jeong.
"General... train the firebenders while I am gone. Have master earthbenders and waterbenders do the same. Hakoda will work with Generals to condition the soldiers, and Sen Su will discipline the archers. I want true soldiers when I return, not a rabble of brawling-men."
"No, Zuko! We do not even know who Myobu speaks of!" Hakoda shouted. Myobu's snarl subsided.
When I was a Runner, certain men did worship to me. They are a bold and strong people. But they are also desperate. They may come to your cause, Chief Hakoda.
Myobu's use of Hakoda's name had the same affect on the Chief as it did on Zuko. He shuddered, momentarily weakened, and Zuko took the opportunity.
"Who are they, Myobu?" the firebender was already mounting Randhir, who neighed and tossed his head impatiently. Jeong-Jeong glared at the Spirit-fox, but he was not so concerned with Zuko's safety as Hakoda might have been, and did not put forth a protest. Myobu turned his head lazily towards the East, towards a distant heat, towards the rumor of a rising sun. Towards the Desert.
They are called the Thieves of Gihad.
The army saw Zuko gallop from the river, with Myobu's flashing, flaming form sprinting several yards ahead. His black-panther cloak flowed behind him like a banner, and his eyes were of golden fire. A murmur rushed through the army; but no one spoke that Zuko was retreating, was fleeing. The fury and ambition in his eyes was too great for that.
They saw him like a man riding toward Death.
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Kudos for anyone who knows who Kwan is in the original show (she'll be back, by the way). And EXTRA kudos to anyone who knows what characters will be showing up in the next few installments!