Author's Note: You lot are all going to kill me. See? I can foretell the future. Sorry about that. Here. Peace offering: next chapter.

Also: updates will be fewer and far between (even more than now) because I want to write out the next few chapters before posting them so I don't mess anything up.

I, Pabu

A Legend of Korra fanfiction

Chapter Four: Exile

The guard stomps down the tunnel, waking me, for there is usually no sound this far down other than heavy breathing. And often, not even that, when the other prisoners are taken to be killed. I've learned, in the recent hours (half of them spent listening to some old nutter blather on about how 'back in his day, ferrets were exiled all the time, and they liked it' and 'history was made to be changed, and you little fireballs will be the ones to do it. Really, he was even crazier than Phun-lai), that I am lucky to have even a day left to live after being sentenced. A day to think on the wrongs I've done, and to decide if or not I choose the path of the Kyofu – a word that has come to be synonymous with exile. But now, I think my time is up.

I follow the guard down the tunnel, curving downwards, then curving back up. Half of me is blank, dull. The other half is wondering if Bolin-moves-earth-called-Bo will miss me. Somewhere in the labyrinth of tunnels, another guard joins us, trailing behind, seemingly ignoring us – me. But I know he's there for security.

The sunlight is bright – too bright for someone that hasn't seen light in hours. Which, honestly, is longer than you might think. I squint, and breathe in clean, fresh air. Somehow, it doesn't taste the same, knowing each breath might be my last. I mean, that's always the case, but usually I'm not quite so sure my death is looming over me, like some over-grown shadow of the Kyofu. No, no, Pabu. No. Not now. Not this. I shake my head, and think of other things, like the wind in the sakura trees, and the smell of jasmine when the spring wind blows just the right way.

A sharp rap brings me to attention – ears up, whiskers out, eyes front, chest forward, paws together – sounding so much like the start of the training routine I went through every month back when I was still in training to be a Sento. It's Phun-lai, and he looks even less pleased than usual. His muzzle is pulled back into a snarl, and his little beady eyes are looking at me. I meet his gaze for an instant, but have to look away.

I turn my eyes on the crowd, but nobody meets my gaze. Nobody except two. Ling is staring at me, but not, like he can only see a memory – all I'll be from this day onwards. Katon meets my gaze, his eyes hard, like I've betrayed him. And in a way, I, his only friend, have.

"Ferrets," Chief Deno's voice rings out over the crowd, and silence falls, so thick I can almost hear it, like a ringing in my ears. "Lemurs." He looks out over the crowd, and seems to make eye contact with everyone there. "Turn thy eyes upon this brother and see with thine own eyes what he has done," he intones, reverting to the Old Language this rite was once spoken in, his voice a half-shout, "turn thy ears upon this brother and hear with thine own ears what he has done," he pauses, takes a short breath, and continues. "Turn thy paws to justice, turn thy hearts to mercy, turn thy tails on nobeast, turn thy minds to truth." He turns to me, eyes keen and dark and unreadable. "May thee, the accused, speak."

For a moment, my throat froze, and my jaw locked. But I had learned these words over a dozen times, even if it was only in those war stories I'd heard from the elders, and they fell from my mouth as easily as if I were speaking them for someone else. "I, Pabu Fire Ferret, of the Clan of the Fighting Friskies, thus hold thee, my brothers, to justice, to mercy, and to truth." From the corner of my eye, I could see one of the older ferrets nodding, seemingly surprised I would know the words of this rite. "I speak now of my wrongs, and may thee judge them as thee may." I told them of what I had done, and my guilt, now that I had done it. The crowd watched impassively.

"Do thee, my brothers, my sisters, judge thy brother to guilt or to innocence?" Before Chief Deno could finish, one of the ferrets shouted "Guilt! Guilt!" And the chant built until it hummed along the entire crowd, echoing a thousand times against the dome of the sky.

Someone in the crowd shouts for silence, and Chief Deno continues. "Do thee, the accused, choose death or exile?" I sigh, and wish he'd stop calling me 'the accused'. It really doesn't help self-confidence.

I turn away from the crowd, away from my friends, and look Chief Deno in the eye. I'm about to say "Exile" when a messenger ferret dashes through the entrance, shouting "Alert! Alert! Call for the Chieftain! The ratcoons are coming!"

The world goes to chaos.

Chief Deno raps out orders for me to be freed, and for the record of the crime to be scratched from the logs. Better a warrior here to fight than an exile gone who-knows-where. Phun-lai glares at me, but signals Ling to join Katon and me in shoring up our nearly inexistent defenses.

"Never before has a ceremony of such importance been interrupted before," Katon whispers to me as we turn and run for the defenses, "Because you're so important." Ling smiles and I nod. We're a trio of friends – a trio not easily broken, tribal rules be darned. I hide an almost-smile at the irony. Making history, indeed.