Lords of the Forest

On the Eastern tail of the Earth Kingdom's massive Saengsun Island, in the fertile Jogak Dak province, the forest of Gaipan was truly a sight to behold. Like much of the Earth Kindgom's wilderness, the trees there dwarfed all of the constructions of man (save the Walls of Ba Sing Se) and extended from the peaks to the coasts. The province was cut off from the rest of the island by a mountain range, and surrounded on three sides by water: wide rivers in the east and an ocean in the west. Perhaps that is why the forest had never been exploited or encroached upon. Despite its treasures, such an isolated province held no allure to any but the humble.

Of course, that didn't apply to the Fire Nation. The Fire Lord wanted to control everything.

There was little resistance when the Fire Nation came to Jogak Dak. The people there were mostly farmers and poor merchants, and not one of the various villages had a militia that could stand up to anything but gangs of bandits. As soon as the Fire Nation arrived, most people simply surrendered and got on with their lives. Certainly, some folks valued the notion of patriotism and spoke out against the invaders; some even took up their swords and went looking for a fight. The Fire Nation responded in a typically efficient manner, applying force to every problem and implementing the most permanent viable solution.

People died, but not many. The survivors mourned. Colonists arrived to settle the empty lands. The Fire Nation military established a permanent presence to keep the peace and make sure that they got their cut of the land's bounty. In the town of Gaipan, named for the forest that surrounded it, the Earth Kingdom natives came to grudgingly accept both their military overlords and new civilian neighbors as a fact of life.

In the forest itself, the evils of the Fire Nation eventually bore fruit, and a much less tolerant group dedicated themselves to seeing the invaders expelled from the land.

No matter the cost.

They called themselves the Freedom Fighters, but then, that's a popular euphemism.

Jet awoke that morning to the taste of cool air. Of course, this late in the winter, that wasn't anything odd. Normally, his Freedom Fighters valued food and weapons above all else, but when it got this cold, blankets and cloaks became a treasure all themselves. Jet, though, wasn't really bothered by the cold. It was a unique taste on every breath, but no more unpleasant than any other kind.

His feelings for the Fire Nation provided more than enough warmth.

Taking another deep breath to invigorate himself, Jet clawed his way to alertness. He rose from his bed without any sluggishness, ran a hand through his shaggy hair, and moved out of his hut to meet the world. The colors of the Fire Nation surrounded him as he stepped through the door. This forest had an interesting quirk: the trees never dropped their leaves. In most other places, cold weather brought the transition from green leaves to yellows and reds and oranges, followed by the falling that left the branches skeletal. The Gaipan Forest, though, never experienced that last step. The leaves changed colors, but stayed on their branches, unless torn off by winds or storms. In the spring, the leaves came to life again, shining verdantly amidst all the new flowers.

Some said that the forest was Spirit-touched. Opinion seemed divided equally about whether this was an omen of good or bad fortune, but everyone agreed that it had been this way for the last hundred years. Jet didn't pretend to have an opinion on any of that.

The leader of the Freedom Fighters looked around his home, the haphazard village that sprawled across the treetops, to see if anyone else was yet awake. A few of the younger members were up and about, including the pair in charge of the cooking. Also, at the edge of the main platform, one small child was practicing with a quarterstaff in the warming light of the rising sun.

Jet walked over to greet his friend, The Duke.

"This, children, is how I remember Jet: he was the vision, the brains, and the voice. He was a hero in every way, except for his actions. He could talk to anyone, and genuinely charm even the most belligerent skeptics. He could manipulate people easily, but only did so for what he truly felt was the greater good. He was brave and he was deadly. He was everything we wanted to be, and everything we feared to become. Appropriately, he wore a strange mix of clothes and armor, colors of all kinds, a mess that shouldn't have been anything but which became a whole simply because of the way he wore it.

"He was our leader, and we trusted him.

"Everything about him was part of his crusade. His chosen weapons were the tiger-head hooked swords. They could grab his enemies, and cut them. They could stab and push them. They could also pierce the giant trees and let him climb like a cat. They could grasp the branches and swing him into flight. They extended his reach, but could still defend him even at the closest range. They must have been difficult for him to learn.

"They also looked really neat.

"Jet always impressed. He fooled even the greatest heroes of our generation, but how could it be otherwise?"

The Duke was good with the staff. Even if Jet hadn't seen his skill in battle before, this latest demonstration left no doubt. The tiny Freedom Fighter handled his weapon gracefully, letting its momentum make up for his lack of strength, sweeping around him as though to ward off attackers, rising up and cracking down as though striking an enemy. The staff was easily double The Duke's height, but that didn't seem to inconvenience the boy.

That is, until Jet got close.

The Duke was twirling the staff in front of him, moving it so fast that all Jet could see was a blurred disc of wood hovering in space. Then there was a crack that echoed in the winter air, and the staff was torn from the boy's grip and bounced into the sky. Jet easily caught it as it came down again, and leaned it towards The Duke. "Gonna have keep working on that trick, but it looks great."

The Duke too his weapon back and smiled at the praise. "Thanks. It's a new trick, but I think it's mostly for show. Hitting someone with it would probably just pull it out of my hands again, and I can already hit people pretty hard."

Jet stepped over to the edge of the platform, and looked down. The forest floor was only just getting its first taste of sunlight. "Hey, don't discount the benefits of looking good," he said. "Intimidation is a big part of how the Freedom Fighters make war. If a bunch of soldiers surround you, spinning like that would be a good argument against any of them moving in. But, it might work better if you get a shorter staff."

The Duke frowned thoughtfully. "But this is the same size as Aang's."

"Aang?" Jet turned to look at The Duke.

"Sure," the younger Freedom Fighter said with a shrug. "I gave him some bang pellets, so he offered to teach me some moves. That spin is one of his."

"Huh," was all Jet could bring himself to say to that.

The silence hung in the cool air for a moment after that. Cold is the worst kind when it comes to unpleasant hushes.

The Duke started doing some wind-down stretches. He bent over to touch his feet and said, "How come Aang and his friends left, anyway? I never really got that. I mean, I know it was disappointing that we blew up the dam for nothing, but they didn't have to leave. We could have tried something else."

Jet wondered what he could say to that. Whatever some people, like Katara the oh-so wise companion to the Avatar, might say, Jet didn't like to lie. He wanted to tell his friends the truth, but the truth was so hard to put into words.

Then Jet looked at the red leaves around him, the leaves that never fell, and found his inspiration. "What happened was that the Avatar didn't like the plan in the first place."

"What was wrong? It almost worked."

"They didn't like it because they didn't want to hurt the Fire Nation."

The Duke stilled, and turned his quizzical gaze to Jet. "Why not?"

"They aren't angry enough." Jet motioned towards the treetop base behind them. "We fight because we're angry at the Fire Nation, so mad at what they did to all of us. The Fire Nation hurt the Avatar and his friends, too, but they weren't angry enough about it. Without anger, all they feel is sick about it, and sick people don't want to fight. They don't want to do anything, right?"

The Duke nodded.

Jet smiled. "So, they just want to hide away, like everyone does when they feel sick. They don't have the strength to keep fighting, to really do what they have to keep the Fire Nation from hurting anyone else. And, honestly, I don't blame them for that. It was wrong the way they tried to mess up the plan, but they have good hearts, and I think they'll come around some day. Maybe they need to get hurt more before they can get angry enough." The leader of the Freedom Fighters raised his eyes to the leaves above. "It has to be an anger that never goes away."

The Duke was obviously thinking hard about that, judging from the look of concentration of his face. If he had more questions, though, he didn't get the chance to ask them. Two small children, kids too young to be real Freedom Fighters, came over with some steaming bowls on trays.

Jet searched his memory for their names, and in the cold morning air, it took him only a second to recall everything about them. "Hey, Hibachi, Sparkrocks. Thanks for the breakfast."

That was how these kids earned their keep. Hibachi was about the same age as The Duke, but he was much more awkward, and didn't worry himself about the necessities of war. Instead, the boy had a rather uncomplicated view of the world- archers were the best, and Longshot was the best of them all. Hibachi wore a blue tunic just like Longshot's, and even found himself a rice-hat. Both were far too big for the kid, and Jet was glad he hadn't tripped and spilled the oatmeal just now. But then, the morning was young. Sparkrocks was a little older than her partner, and dressed much more sensibly in a red tunic that she had scrounged out of some captured Fire Nation supplies. She wore her hair in a ponytail to keep it from falling in the food she prepared; after that first incident, Smellerbee had made it clear that she while she may live in a tree, there were some standards that couldn't be compromised.

"You're welcome, Jet," the girl said.

"We made it yummy today," Hibachi added. "Used the last of the brown sugar!"

"Hey, a nice treat," Jet said. "Just be sure to save some for Smellerbee and Longshot."

"Longshot?" Hibachi had stars in his eyes as he repeated the name.

Sparkrocks gave her friend a look, and then turned back to Jet. "Where are they? I thought Morning Patrol was later."

The Duke looked up quizzically from his breakfast. That's right, he probably wouldn't have known about that, either.

Jet grinned confidently. "The Fire Nation has been putting out some extra scouting efforts. We're just adjusting the shifts to teach them why we don't like that."

Scout Akaishatsu moved silently through the forest. He did not wear the typical armor of a Fire Nation soldier, instead swathing himself in a mix of mutilated civilian clothing, all a slightly different shade of red or orange that wasn't entirely unlike the immortal leaves on the trees around him. Considering his prey, Akaishatsu needed every advantage he could get to remain undetected. The colors helped him blend in, but the mish-mash of clothes provided an even more helpful kind of camouflage; the patches, missing arms and legs, and random wraps broke up his profile, turning him into something that didn't at first glance appear to be shaped like a human.

He kept his knives in their sheaths. Their blades were sharpened obsidian, formed from the lava back home in the Fire Nation, and they were dangerous to handle, even by trained professionals.

There was no point in pretending to be a civilian, in these parts. The local criminals were known for beating and robbing old travelers who were unlucky enough to be caught in the forest alone. There were documented cases of even worse things happening to Fire Nation colonists who wandered around here without their wits about them, but those incidents were less famous. Dead men tell no tales, after all.

The war was intensifying all over the Earth Kingdom with the Avatar's return; even in slower times, the Fire Nation typically didn't have the resources to deal with local bandits. Bandits, though, didn't bomb dams and attack major civilian centers. The troublemakers had upgraded themselves from criminals to rebels, and Akaishatsu had made a career out of finding insurgents so that the full fury of the Fire Nation could fall on their heads.

The scout walked in an odd, slow manner, keeping each foot in the air for a minimal amount of time and shifting his weight only when both feet were on the ground, maintaining a soundless and steady forward momentum. He moved carefully around every bush, pile of leaves, and patch of loose earth, careful not to leave any evidence of his passing.

At the same time, he was on the watch for any such signs ahead of him, clues that would lead him to his nation's enemies. It had been in this area that several supply convoys had been attacked. According to reports, the ambushers had dropped from the treetops.

Akaishatsu made sure to look up often.

As such, he almost missed the danger at his feet.

The face was dark, tanned and dirty as though it had spent the day doing hard work out here in the forest, and had been painted with red stripes going diagonally across the cheeks. The hair atop it was coarse and frizzy, forming an unshaped blob. Akaishatsu didn't recognize it as human until it was too late.

He wasn't even sure if it was a boy or a girl. The child jumped out at him after realizing that it had been spotted. Swords- good swords, of Fire Nation construction- were pulled from their sheaths, and Akaishatsu spotted even more blades strapped to the child's black clothes and brown armor.

Akaishatsu knew this was no mere child. He pulled his obsidian knives from where they were strapped to his arms, and charged forward.

"This, children, is how I remember Smellerbee: she was the fiercest of the Freedom Fighters, always one of the first into a fight. She was even more of a blademaster than our leader, although she never realized it herself. She didn't specialize in any one type of weapon, instead teaching herself how to fight with all kinds of swords- dao and jian- and knives of all sizes and functions.

"It was easy to forget that she was the only girl to be taken on as a Freedom Fighter.

"She often lamented that she was easily mistaken for a boy, due to her rough appearance. I hadn't yet learned to judge girls by their appearance, out there in the wilderness, but in retrospect I don't think she had anything to worry about. It was more that people didn't expect such toughness from a girl. She was the only Freedom Fighter to wear heavy body armor, but she didn't let it slow her down one bit. With such speed and grace, she could have been a dancer, but she found more useful outlets for her skills.

"She wasn't just a warrior. She was our thief.

"She could sneak up on anyone, even an experienced Water Tribe hunter. She could put a bell in the pocket of a sneaking soldier without being seen, or remove the coins from the saddlebags of any traveler who passed through our forest. More than once, she even planted 'evidence,' putting a knife or throwing star in the possession of someone we needed to be seen as an enemy.

"Smellerbee was a good friend to our leader, whether or not he deserved it."

Akaishatsu's only hope was to quickly close the distance to his opponent so that his swords would be too cumbersome to effectively fight with, and his knives would be in range for short, fatal jabs into important veins or organs.

The only problem was that the little monkey easily ducked below his arms, twirled to the side in a move that very suddenly increased the gap between them, and casually swung a sword out to knick his arm right on the wrist. Akaishatsu hissed in pain and reflexively dropped one of his knives. When he turned to face the little ragamuffin again, he had the swords up and ready for another attack.

So Akaishatsu threw his remaining knife at the child and ran. He heard it clang against what was probably one of the child's swords, but it didn't matter. The only point of the move was to distract his opponent long enough to provide a head start. While he ran, Akaishatsu reached into his pocket for a something important: a small tube of hardened paper, filled with blast powder, with a string trailing out of one end. All he had to do was yank the string, throw the tube into the air, and it would ignite into a blasting flare that would summon the Firebenders who were supposed to be providing him support. Then they could deal with the 'Freedom Fighter' on his tail.

If only he could find the stupid flare! He could have sworn it was in his pocket.

Since he didn't look behind him as he ran, there was no way he could have seen his attacker casually examining it in her hand.

Akaishatsu ran on, but, as distracted as he was, he was still alert and familiar enough with the forest to avoid tripping over any stray branches. As such, it came as a considerable surprise when his foot hooked against something thin and hard, and he tumbled to the ground in a mess. Akaishatsu looked around, spotted an arrow protruding out of the ground right where he had tripped. Remembering his training, he finally looked up.

The shape was actually fairly man-like, clothed in what was mostly a plain blue tunic that stood out vividly against the colored leaves of the squat tree. Nevertheless, the figure had stayed so still, Akaishatsu's eyes passed over it several times before realizing that it didn't belong.

When Akaishatsu finally noticed, it took a second to realize that the figure was holding a drawn bow, with an arrow pointed directly at his face.

"This, children, is how I remember Longshot: he was both the quietest, and the most colorful of the Freedom Fighters. His tunic was blue and white, like a member of the Water Tribes. On his head, he always wore one of the cone-hats that farmers throughout the Earth Kingdom favor. Around his neck, he wore a shawl of red Fire Nation silk, but he was far from the only Freedom Fighter to display such a trophy.

"He was our archer.

"Of course, in my memory, he never missed a shot, and was able to place, draw, and fire two arrows at once, faster than I could blink. It's hard to say how good he really was, since he was the only one in our group who could use a bow. He tried to teach a few of us, of course, but archery is much harder than it looks. You have to remain completely still, moving only the parts of your body that are required to fit the arrow and draw the bowstring. You have to have excellent vision, because the most useful archers are the ones who can hit a target from the farthest away. And you have to know how to breathe.

"You have to know to pull air into your lungs as you pull the bowstring back. You have to be able to hold that breath, without moving, while you make the final adjustments to your aim. And you have to know to let the air out, easily and without motion, as you let the arrow fly.

"Is it any wonder that the young man who didn't talk was the greatest archer I can remember?"

Once the Fire Nation scout was taken care of, Longshot conferred briefly with Smellerbee and then headed straight home by himself. She would handle the clean-up.

The treehouse village of the Freedom Fighters was always bustling. No one had ever taken a full count of its population but it certainly wasn't anywhere as large as the nearby town of Gaipan. At best, perhaps thirty people made their homes in the rugged huts and tents that wrapped around the trunks of the twisting trees, with more than enough space leftover to hide away stacks of food and other supplies.

The reason the rope bridges and wooden platforms were bustling was because the entire population consisted of children and teenagers, and those ages were notorious for all the spare energy they imparted.

In Longshot's opinion, though, things had been a bit quieter in recent weeks.

The teenager let the rope and pulley settle to a stop before he stepped onto the treetop platform. He kept moving, heading straight for another line that was stretched diagonally into the distance. Longshot grasped the handles of one of the rope-runner wheels and let it carry him out into the open air. It was always a thrill, traveling through the leaves like this, giving up the last links to the ground and sailing through the wind. It never failed to delight new arrivals to the hideout, and had especially delighted the Avatar.

The Avatar hadn't stayed long.

Too quickly, Longshot reached the main platform and let his feet reconnect with the solid wooden planking. A pair of kids- Hibachi and Sparkrocks- was dragging out a crate of flour from the supply shed to the cooking hut. Longshot waved at their greetings, but kept moving towards the largest hut, near the center of the wide platform.

That was where Jet lived.

Hibachi was still just standing there, staring at the door to Jet's hut, while Sparkrocks struggled to move the crate on her own. The ponytailed girl tried taking a classic horse stance and shoving. She tried running in place with her head mashed up against the crate. She even tried laying down and kicking it with both legs. Eventually, Sparkrocks elected to take the path of least resistance and slapped her partner's shoulder. "Hey, move your butt. Don't leave me to do all the work here!"

Hibachi turned to her and stuck out his tongue. "I was trying to figure out what was bothering Longshot. He didn't look happy."

"How," Sparkrocks asked with a roll of her eyes, "can you tell?"

Hibachi crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his partner. Between the oversized blue robe and the beat-up rice hat, the intimidating effect was completely ruined. "Anyonewho pays attention to Longshot can figure out how he feels. He's a great communicator! Like just now, the skin around his eyebrows is a little tight. That means he's worried."

Sparkrocks smiled and pointed at her own face. "Hey, see this?"

"What?"

"The way evil spirits are flying out of my nose? That means I'm going to throw you off this platform if you don't help me move this crate!"

"All right, all right." Hibachi shuffled over and began putting his back into moving the crate. "I think it's time for you to cut back on the bark-tea."

"Ha, ha," Sparkrocks grunted, joining him at their chore. The crate of flour scraped smoothly along, finally reaching the cooking hut. The girl straightened gratefully, and shook her ponytail off her shoulders. "So, what do you think has Longshot so scared? He's one of the top fighters, and if he's scared-"

"Longshot don't get scared!" Hibachi stomped from around the other side of the supply crate, promptly tripped in his robe, and splayed out over the floor. By the time he scrambled back to his feet and pushed his hat back up out of his face, Hibachi had a good scowl worked up. "Longshot's the most greatest Freedom Fighter ever!"

"I think The Duke is pretty good. He's smaller than us, but he-"

"Longshot's the greatest!"

"Smellerbee can-

"Longshot!"

"And Pipsqueak-"

"Longshot!"

"All right! Enough! I was just teasing!" Sparkrocks sighed, and looked back at Jet's hut. "You think it had to do with that secret mission no one will talk about? The one that made the Avatar leave?"

Hibachi's serious shrug was her only answer.

Jet took the news without reaction. He stayed sitting on his bed, not even meeting Longshot's gaze until the archer had finished his report. "You're sure he wasn't just scouting for another convoy? Maybe we can hit them for a good haul."

Longshot gave a small shrug, but couldn't stop his head from shaking in the negative.

"Yeah, I don't believe it, either," Jet sighed. "They're finally coming after us, aren't they?"

Longshot raised both of his eyebrows. The Freedom Fighters were the only obvious target in the whole forest.

"Well, that's something we can still deal with. This forest is our base, and they'll never find us before we find them. They may have the numbers, but we have the brains, the ability, and the advantage."

Longshot nodded agreeably. It was too bad that they were in this situation, but the Freedom Fighters would deal with it. Jet had never let them down before.

Probably.

TO BE CONTINUED