Travels through the Alphabet with Mai
Part 15, Omashu
The city rose up, layer after layer, like some grotesque wedding cake. Carved out of a mountain, sitting amongst other mountains, it was isolated and alone, and Mai assumed, boring. She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again, hoping that her first glimpse might have been some error or illusion. But no, Omashu was the same on second look and on the third. She sighed and her mother shot her an exasperated glare. Mai had been sighing and mostly silent all the way from the Fire Nation. Tom-Tom made enough noise for the both of them anyway.
Her little brother, just over a year, happy in that way only babies and toddlers can be, gurgled and cooed and drooled and clapped his hands and laughed. Doting on him, Mai's mother delighted in everything he did. When he soiled his diaper she was proud, as if the boy had accomplished something miraculous. Mai just wrinkled her nose in distaste and averted her eyes.
Tom-Tom will be happy here. He's happy everywhere. And Mom is so wrapped up in him, she can't see anything else.
"It won't be that bad, Mai. Your father is governor. We'll be comfortable and well taken care of." The woman smiled, trying to impart some optimism to her daughter. "Just wait. You'll see."
"Right, because being stuck in a city with a bunch of Earth Kingdom people who hate us will be so much fun. And oh yeah, I don't know anyone and have no friends and nothing to do except toss my knives at things and read. Can we stay forever?"
Mai's mother ignored the sarcastic tirade. "Try to be happy for your father. This promotion is very important to him. Fire Lord Ozai trusts him with this responsibility. He has worked so hard, Mai."
The fifteen year old stared mutely out the window of the carriage. Her father's ambitions did not interest her. They were what pushed her into the background years earlier, so far into the background that she had almost vanished.
As they got closer to Omashu, sounds reached Mai's ears; the rush of delivery carts, merchants hawing their wares, animals squawking and bellowing. She hated it already. Capitol City was serene and calm not raucous.
Quietly she prepared herself for days shut in her room; book in hand, blades poking holes in the tapestries. She supposed it wouldn't be that much different from home; just colder. And there were always the nights, when fantasy and dreams ruled her mind, rather than cool logic. They wouldn't change and for that she was grateful. Of course, she would never tell her mother that.