Sorry for the gap. Family stuff happened, and I'm picking up the last course I need in Uni. Answers: Haru isn't in this story. Since Ozai diverted manpower away from the East after Iroh's failed invasion, Tyro was never captured, and there was no reason for Imprisoned to happen. Of note is that Katara never lost her necklace, so no scent trail for Jun. Haru is just another earthbender in the background.
Oh... and who ever said that this was heading for Zutara? Ha!
To say Nila was entranced by the sea would be doing it disservice.
She had read countless books describing it, the way that the waves pushed up and down, crashing against rocks or sliding to their demise against sand. How in the grim times, the waves could stand as tall as Sentinel Rock itself, a brutal, cruel, and punishing reprisal for mankind's hubris in claiming to have conquered its vast reaches. She had even read treatises in how the tides follow the moon, a spiritual dance bereft of real physics, since any body of matter so close to the planet would have broken apart and crashed down millions of years before. She had read much, and learned much, but standing here, overlooking the breathtaking majesty of it, she was caught in awe.
Of course, it wasn't the perfect day to be watching the ocean. After all, the winds were tearing, the sky was grey, and the waves crashed with white froth at their caps. But even so, even with the horizon so artificially hemmed, it was like a mouse beholding the handiwork of a god.
"Man, the weather sucks," Tzu Zi broke into Nila's reverie. "I hope Rai Lee is somewhere safe."
"Rai Lee, she's which one again?" Nila asked, her eyes not drifting away from the spectacle which was the ocean.
"She's the one who was obsessed with the ocean," Tzu Zi answered, concern plain in her voice. "I just hope she made it to port. This looks like a bad one."
"What do you know about ocean storms?" Nila asked.
"Just that they happen all the time, and they hit like an Avatar," Tzu Zi said. She tugged on Aki's reins. "As I understand it, they come in big waves, smashing against all the coasts of the East Continent over and over again, like some sort of heathen ocean god is angry at the Earth Kingdoms for something."
"Tell me you don't believe that tripe," Nila asked, glancing toward her companion. Tzu Zi just smiled.
"I'm not that uneducated. I know better. But I also know that it shouldn't be possible for storms to hit like they do. Weird stuff just happens sometimes."
"It's 'weird stuff' because nobody puts enough effort into understanding it," Nila corrected. Tzu Zi shrugged.
"We should probably head south. That's where you were headed, right?" she asked. Nila nodded. "Well, come on up."
Nila nodded, giving a last glance to the ocean. It was ridiculous, considering it would be at her side the entire trek south, but even tearing her eyes away from it for a moment felt like a betrayal of its grandeur. Still, she clambered up and put her arms around Tzu Zi's waist, managing not to be off put by the fact that they now circled a bare midriff. Really, Tzu Zi might have been a decent, respectable girl, but she dressed like an absolute prostitute! Not that a small part of her mind was complaining. She studiously fought to ignore that part.
"So are we heading the right direction?" Tzu Zi asked as Aki bounced along.
"Oh, yes. He's heading south, alright. I can feel it in my bones," Nila said grimly. Sharif couldn't be too far ahead of her. He was afoot, and she had been riding an Ostrich Horse for days. How she hadn't overtaken him already was a mystery, but one that she would uncover in due time. As the pair rode, though, Nila slowly got the impression that something was on her counterpart's mind. It was possibly the none-too-subtle signals that the girl was dropping, which were only being utilized now that the more unobtrusive ones had obviously flown over Nila's head. She rolled her eyes, and asked. "What?"
"Oh, nothing, it's just that I was supposed to meet one of my sisters here," Tzu Zi turned to the west, toward the storm which seemed to be gathering on every horizon and pressing in. "And with that storm... I'm worried."
"Where were you supposed to meet her?"
"Right here," Tzu Zi said. "Sure, I might have fallen behind a bit when I picked you up, but..."
"Fallen behind? I've been spurring you constantly to catch up with my idiot brother!" Nila complained.
"You shouldn't call him that. It's not his fault what happened to him," Tzu Zi said. Nila didn't answer that claim. It usually would have been countered with 'you don't know anything about my brother', but Tzu Zi now knew more about Sharif than anybody outside the family, which was a situation Nila had no experience with.
"Maybe you're right," Nila admitted. "So when were you supposed to meet your sister?"
"About six hours ago," Tzu Zi said uncomfortably. "Give or take."
"So we can catch up. Where? Right, on a cliff. How?" she amended.
"She would pick me up as she sailed past."
"I thought you said..."
"I said I hoped she hadn't, but let's face it, if you cut Rai Lee, brine would come out," Tzu Zi said with a roll of her eyes and a distant smile. She then frowned, worry crossing her features. "Where could she have gone?"
"Are there any ports nearby?"
"Well, there's one to the south, but that's a long way, and the winds are wrong," Tzu Zi said. "We could hope that... that..."
"What is it?" Nila asked, craning her neck around. Aki came to a stop, and Nila beheld that they were overlooking a sharp decline, heading down to a slightly sheltered bit of moorage. That was the proper word for that, right? Moorage? Anyway, it was little more than a warp in the shape of the cliff, but it played host to several small vessels, and one slightly larger one, all almost close enough that one could spit from one and hit another. Nila scowled. "Well, they've probably got the right idea, but won't the waves smash the boats together?"
She muttered something which Nila couldn't catch, which sounded less like a curse and more like a wondrous exclamation. "Nila!" she finally returned to a common tongue. "That's the Nuwa! That's my sister's boat!"
"Here? Why wouldn't they just head for port?"
"Maybe they couldn't make it," Tzu Zi said, and then tugged on the reins. Aki let out an annoyed warble, but began to pelt down the scree. Doing so elicited a shriek of alarm from Nila, despite her best intentions to the opposite. She clung even tighter to Tzu Zi, her hands digging into the soft skin of her otherwise taut belly... Nila! You're going to die and you're thinking about her abs! Focus!
"What are you doing?" Nila screamed.
"I've gotta make sure Rai Lee's alright!" Tzu Zi shouted back, spurring the bird into even more suicidal descent, to the point that it was now bounding down between cracks in boulders. Every landing brought another yelp of terror from the desert-born traveler, who dug in tighter until the only thing she could both see, and smell, was Tzu Zi's hair. "Don't worry, Aki's not a Plains steed. She's from Ru Nan! They're trained for mountains!"
"That doesn't mean anything to me!" Nila screamed into the back of Tzu Zi's shoulders. Finally, there was one last, great thump, and Nila was stock still for a moment, the only movement the involuntary and uncontrollable shuddering which racked her shoulders. After Aki let out another utterance, it started walking again, this time at a more sane pace. "Is it over? Are we dead?"
"Ahoy!" Tzu Zi shouted, waving an arm. Nila finally pulled back, solidly relieved that she was back on solid ground. "Nila, I don't think they can see me."
"Then signal them with something," Nila said, still unable to summon enough composure to be peevish. She started pawing around under her robes for an appropriate device, eventually staring down her neckline to try to recall exactly what she brought with her. Damn, one of these days she was going to cause a major explosion in a very unfortunate place if she kept this up.
Nila's eyes widened a bit, and she saw what she needed. A second screamer. She'd just about given up hope that she'd packed two of them. She reached down for it, but as she looked up, she could see a ball of fire rising through the air, and Tzu Zi was smiling back at her. "Easy as pie."
"You keep fireworks on hand?" Nila asked.
"Sure, why not."
Nila had to admit, it was a better system than she had. That ball of flame arced through the sky, before finally dropping into the water where it snuffed with little more than a ripple. "What now?" Nila asked.
"Now we wait," Tzu Zi said, and from the way she was twitching in the saddle, Nila could tell it was the last thing Tzu Zi wanted. But in a minute or so, a skiff started paddling through the still-choppy gulf and made its way to them. By the time it finally reached the gravel of the shore, both had dismounted, and Nila had taken Aki's reins. The bird just looked at Nila like it was seriously considering some major disobedience, but Tzu Zi idly and blindly reached back and gave it a rap on the beak, which put it in its place. Grudgingly, anyway. By the time that boat landed, Tzu Zi was otherwise vibrating with excitement.
Until the boatman turned, and Nila felt a brief moment of disbelief to her own senses. Tzu Zi was standing in that boat. Well, rationally, Nila knew that it couldn't be Tzu Zi, but the girl was so alike with her, in figure and face, that only a slight difference in the way she kept her hair, and the state and style of her outfit, served to tell the two of them apart. So Tzu Zi had an identical twin, did she? Her mind started going some unusual places with that thought, before Nila shut it down. Damn it brain, she thought, stop working against me!
"Rai Lee!" Tzu Zi shrieked in a positively eardrum-bursting intensity.
"Tzu Zi!" her counterpart likewise shrieked, before the two slammed into each other with a wordless 'squee' of sisterly delight. Nila looked at the two gorgeous, identical girls embracing tightly, then turned to the Ostrach Horse.
"You've got it easy, Aki. You've got it easy," Nila muttered.
"Are you alright, Rai Lee?"
"Well, we had a b-bit of a accident on the way here, so we c-c-couldn't make it back to p-port."
"Still stuttering?"
"C-c-can't help it," the two of them volleyed back and forth in the exact same voice. Nila had a hard time seeing who was saying what. She just assumed that the stammering one was Rai Lee, because that made the most sense. "So how was the G-Great Divide?"
"Boring. I wish I never went. Bunch of hoity-toity types got into a fight with a bunch of slobs," she shook her head. "But look at you! Working on the sea like you always wanted! How's mom?"
"Worried sick. She never thought I'd g-go, I g-guess," Rai Lee answered. "Heard T-T-Ty Lee left the circus, though."
"Really? Why?"
Rai Lee just shrugged. "Are you c-coming aboard?" Tzu Zi nodded vigorously, then pulled the reins from Nila's hand and brought the bird onto the skiff, which was about as comfortable for all involved as Nila would have predicted. The bird seemed to be out of its mind with concern, and only Tzu Zi's tight hand kept it from bolting back to the shore. Nila also had a fair amount of trepidation getting into this thing. She knew all about boats, but trusting one's life to a couple dozen pounds of wood against the ocean? She didn't like those odds.
"Anything else happen while you were t-traveling?" Rai Lee asked.
"Found somebody half-dead in Dakong, so I got a traveling companion out of that. A real smarty-pants, too!"
Rai Lee finally turned from her sister to Nila, and let out a low whistle. "Well, look at that. You managed to f-find a looker. C-can I have him? P-please? Wait, d-does he understand us?"
"Excuse me?" Nila asked, voice sotto.
"He's so exotic and he has such a p-pretty face," Rai Lee was blushing quite deeply, now. Nila shook her head slowly, like a mauled bull-pig.
"Alright, that's it," Nila said with finality. "I'm growing my hair back out."
"Huh?" Rai Lee asked.
"Wait for it," Tzu Zi said brightly.
"I'M A GIRL!"
Chapter 7
Darkened Skies
Sativa lowered the veil as they stared at the monument that erupted from the sands. She gave a glance to her companion, who was likewise struck, not just with awe, but an odd and clamoring sense of regret, of something glorious lost. "This is obviously the place, but..."
She reached into the saddle-bag of the lizard which quietly and calmly lapped out a forked tongue at the spectacle before them. She pulled out the drawing which she had procured from a contact at Misty Palms years before, showing a grand edifice, dwarfing any single structure of its type in the world, even the vaunted Great Ember Libraries or the halls of Ba Sing Se university. She looked from the interpretation, up to real life, then handed the depiction to Piandao. He looked at it, and gave a weary sigh. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this point. But at least we found it. That's the most important part," he said, before rolling up the drawing, and looking up once more to the half-buried form of the Great Library of Wan Shi Tong.
"Why?" Sativa said simply. "What has happened here?"
"I can't speak on spiritual matters. Llawenydd probably could have explained it, but..." Piandao trailed off.
"The dead have a way of keeping secrets, whether they want to or not," Sativa said. "There's no point dwelling on the past. There was nothing either of us could have done to save him," Piandao nodded, then started making his way up the slope of sand. While the great spires still caught the moonlight in their golden radiance, there was much that had faded about the great structure. The least of which was that half of it was engulfed in a sand-dune, which was slowly creeping along the building's length. Soon, the whole thing would vanish, swallowed not by capricious spirits or endless war, but the apathy of time and the relentlessness of the ocean of sand.
"Do you have it?" Sativa asked. Piandao nodded, pulling a small book from one of his pockets. She had something similar. Usually, back when she was young and immortal, she let others deal with the niggling details of what she had to face, while she dealt exclusively with the big-picture problems. Right now, though, she had to think for everybody. Damn, but she wished Joo Dee hadn't married that merchant, or that Bato hadn't gone home. They would have made things so much easier. "Good. Let's just hope that the information is correct."
"I never dreamed I would come to Wan Shi Tong's Library," Piandao said, as he struggled the last steps to where the head of the dune now met a top-story window. "Part of me wonders if I would ever be ready for this."
"We need information, and this is the only place sure to have it," Sativa said, brusquely shoving Piandao aside since he obviously was waiting for her to make the first move. He had a measure of bravery that few could match, but there was one thing that Piandao simply couldn't stand, and it was the Spirit World. She could understand why. Considering how restricted spiritual matters were in the modern, monotheistic Fire Nation, even as far back as Piandao's childhood, it stood to reason that he held some lingering superstitious fear. "Are you coming in or not?" Sativa asked flatly.
Piandao gave the structure one last wary glance, then ducked into the library. There was an odd chill in the air inside, as though it were not completely connected to the desert outside. As well, when she stopped, Sativa realized she could no longer hear the blowing of the wind across the sand. That was very odd. Piandao's hand stayed on his blade. However much good it would do him. For all his eloquence and intellect, he was out of his depth here, and he knew it.
"We should move quickly. Perhaps we won't even have to meet him," Sativa said, striding down the mosaic-covered floors, which were slowly beginning to build up with sand. Piandao stayed close, always at her right hand. Gods, it felt good to be back out in the world.
"You do realize that saying that has almost certainly damned us?" Piandao pointed out.
"I try to take a more positive view of things."
"Since when?" Piandao asked with a smirk.
Sativa just cast a glance his way, but it did nothing to banish his smirk. "Be that as it may, we need to find a reference desk. Something that can help us."
"Then perhaps you should speak to the proprietor."
The voice reverberated off of the columns and the shelves which bore scrolls and tomes, now growing increasingly befouled by invading sand. Piandao started a bit at that. Face him down with an army of a hundred men, and he wouldn't break a sweat. One voice from beyond the mortal ken, though, and he was skittish as a lemur. Sativa stopped advancing, lest she provoke the wise and venerable spirit. She had a vague description of what to expect, but what she saw took those expectations and smashed them against a rock.
Shadows gathered out of an ill-lit section of the hallway, pulling into a strigine form, but not completely. She had been told to expect an owl, if of unnatural size. This was more like a owl's corpse, somehow made animate. The feathers were dull black or else lifeless grey, and great rents opened in them, spilling out some sort of lusterless ichor which evaporated a few moments after it hit the floor. Its eyes were as black as the deepest pits of the Spirit World. "You are Wan Shi Tong, He-Who-Knows-10,000-Things? The spirit which brought this library to the Mortal world?" Sativa asked.
"I am he," Wan Shi Tong answered. Instantly, the question of what the hell happened to that spirit came to her mind, but she delicately set that aside. At best, it would be a sensitive topic, and at worst, gravely insulting. His movements were labored, as though even the shuffling walk it undertook now was horribly taxing to it. "You have come to my library and awakened me from my slumber. That was a grave risk you undertook, just coming here. Especially since your kind are no longer welcomed in my study."
Sativa shared a glance with Piandao, or tried to, but the swordsman was transfixed in terror on the spirit. She had to agree with him on one thing; there was so much wrong with this situation, she didn't even know where to begin. Well, the spectral ribs showing through the 'wound' was one place to start, she supposed. Giving the founder of the Library no more than a slightly raised eyebrow to showcase her own discomfort, she took a step toward the spirit. "Welcome or not, we are here. You might not have noticed, but the world demands the things you keep locked away. If you don't relinquish them as they are needed, then you are only dooming yourself."
The bird tilted its head, to a sound of rope snapping as the spectral sinews accommodated the motion. "Humans only care about learning how to destroy other humans. The firebender who came here before was no different," Wan Shi Tong pointed out, before slowly rotating his head back to its proper orientation, this time to a sound like metal wire being stretched almost to breaking. Sativa and Piandao shared a glance of common concern. Firebender? Here? That held dire implication.
"A spiderfly beats its wings upon its web in Azul, and a storm blows over Ba Sing Se," Piandao offered. "It is not for the ken of any mind to know the full of what one does. If we claim we seek not to destroy a human opponent, then you will prove us false through degrees of separation."
"Finally, the mouse dares speak?" the owl asked, voice rumbling.
Piandao swallowed nervously, but didn't let it reach his expression. "And you would trap us in sophistry?"
"A man of learning. So seldom to they come to this place. Not like before," the owl said with a sense of great weariness to him. "So many things I have known and seen. All things worth knowing. The path of the stars across the heavens. The cycles of the planets, and the worlds once alive and now lost. The Great Ships of Mangangaso Belikat aflame in war; the crashing of the surf before the Tahnner House Gate. So many things... So many lost things... Days that even knowledge itself seems ready to die."
"Then it must spread. A secret kept to one is lost when he who carries it is. A secret spread continues," Sativa pointed out. Who would have thought all that twisting of words she did as a youth would come back so quickly, and more importantly, be useful and relevant now. Wan Shi Tong turned back to them, snapping out of its melancholy, and a spark seemed to have ignited in its eyes. Not casting them with fire, thank the gods for that, but rather, making them seem like they belonged on a living creature again.
"Perhaps you are right, human. Perhaps you are right," The half-decomposed bird pulled itself upright, rising to a massive stature, roughly a quarter of the distance between the floor and the extraordinarily distant ceiling. "You may enter, but you must pay the price that all who enter here must; To prove your dedication to pursuit of knowledge, you must add to the collection. Present your offerings."
Piandao glanced to her, obviously still near-petrified, but he was a loyal and adaptable soul. He moved first. He advanced before the bird, and held out tome. Wan Shi Tong leaned forward, his neck extending with a series of 'crick's as it did so. "Is this sufficient?"
"'A history in the brush', following the development of the written Huojian language. I have a copy... but this appears to be physical. I always like having hard-copies. They are harder to... erase. It is acceptable," Wan Shi Tong waved a partially benuded wing over the book, and it vanished from Piandao's hand. It turned to Sativa, she pulled out her offering. It wasn't much more than a pamphlet, but it was knowledge two years old at most, at the bleeding edge of its field. "And you?"
"'Thought and the brain'," she said. "A new idea that the seat of reason is less cardiac and more cerebral."
"That is an old idea. Thousands of years old," Wan Shi Tong said with a dismissive tone.
"But now they have support for it," Sativa said. Support that came from doctors examining her son's brain, and his change, after what happened to him. Wan Shi Tong looked at the pamphlet, and there was a sound in its throat, almost like a wet, gurgling whistle of approval.
"Very new. I seldom get ideas this new. It will do," Wan Shi Tong said, waving his wing again. There was an odd tingling sensation in her hands as the pamphlet vanished from them. Wan Shi Tong then turned back and ardously walked back to the spot they first noticed it. And as it did so, Sativa couldn't help but note that she could see through a hole in its back. What the hell happened to Wan Shi Tong? "You are welcome in my library for now, humans. But do not test my patience. You will have no idea when I am watching you."
The bird stepped into the shadow, and the motes that made up its form seemed to just... give up. He broke apart into that dull ichor, which slid into the shadow, and then, disappeared completely. There was a moment of pristine silence, then a sigh from Piandao. She glanced back to him, noting that he had paled quite a bit. "I feel like I've just lost a year of my life," he said.
"Then make sure it is worth it," Sativa prompted. "We have to start looking. Contrary to his threat, I doubt he's watching. It seemed all he could do to speak to us."
Piandao considered that for a moment. "If so, that is a disturbing thing to consider. What would make a spirit like Wan Shi Tong so destitute?"
"Whatever it is, pray it isn't waiting for us," Sativa said. "For years we've been trying to find out what the Fire Nation has been actively working to hide from us. Whatever it is, I do not doubt that some record of it will be kept here."
"And if it isn't?" Piandao asked, as he followed in her wake. A glance over the railing showed that sand was spilling into the lower levels as well, as it had infiltrated much farther down there than it had up here. She shrugged.
"Then we are no further than where we started, but we still have the Avatar."
"It is against our doctrine to involve ourselves directly with the Avatar," Piandao pointed out.
"Order doctrine will not stop me from saving this planet. You know that better than anyone."
That finally brought a smirk to Piandao's face. "There's the Sativa I remember."
"Hm. Now see if you can 'remember' us a way to the Fire Nation wing. It's our best shot," she said, as she set out through the city of old and forgotten lore.
Azula slammed up from the bedding, letting out a clipped shout as the nightmare fled. She looked around the room, decorated by those things which she made without thought or desire, but equally without fail. The grinder was in full effect, a whorl of chaotic and uncontrollable impulses, thoughts, sensations that spun in her head. She wanted to sleep, to make it go away, but she could as well stop the turning of the world. She got up, she paced. She even drew a picture of a girl she didn't recognize, young with bright golden eyes. But it didn't ease or abate that feeling.
There were days she felt like smashing her head against the bulkhead until the noise stopped. This was worse.
"Azula, I brought you some dinn..." Zuko broke off when he saw that she was up and about. She hadn't the first idea how long she'd been down and out. Every time one of those... events... took place, it could be days, it could be weeks. The first time, it took her a month and a half to become truly cogent again. A bright smile spread upon her older brother's face, and he slid the tray onto a pile of other works without thought as he rushed to embrace her. "You're awake! Thank Agni, I was so worried."
Azula opened her mouth to give him a sarcastic barb... but there were no words. She slowly pushed her way out of that hug, trying to belittle his girlish nature, but failed. There was only the grind, which manifested in a veritable salad of non-sequitur which spilled forth like vocal vomit. Half way through, she tried to stop, to pull it into something useful for communication, but the attempt was moot. And it was almost a little heartbreaking the way that smile curdled on Zuzu's face. There was still a smile there, but it was fragile and brittle now.
"Well, you're getting better, that's the important part," Zuko said carefully. He guided her back to her bed, but she glared at him. She didn't want to go back there. She couldn't sleep. And besides, the bed stank from her sweating on it so much, so she pulled away violently, and snapped off another chain of nonsense at him; even if she knew in her heart it made no sense, its tone would communicate enough. "Alright, alright. Sorry," Zuko said, that smile finally breaking completely. "I suppose you've seen enough of this room for now. Would you like a walk around the cabin?"
Azula just glared at him. Agni's blood, but it was frustrating to have him for a brother some days. And other days, it was the only thing keeping her sane. She walked to the door and gave it an idle kick, telling him without words what to do. He threw it open and gestured for her. She thanked him in the only way she had available; sarcastic word salad. She walked out of the corridor and spun the hatch leading outside. As soon as she did, she got a face full of thunder. The timing was outright uncanny. The instant the door was open, a thunderclap crossed the distance and echoed along the ship. She gave a confused glance to her brother, and to the other crewmen on the deck.
"Azula, you shouldn't go out there," Zuko said, but she slapped his hand away from her shoulder brusquely. She was not an invalid. Even if she couldn't communicate, she could still think... after a fashion. And the problem she had now would pass. It always passed. She pointed at the storm-clouds which pressed in from every direction, and shouted at the navigator, a Lieutenant Jee if memory served, that they were being idiots and steaming into a storm. Well, she tried to, anyway. No point trying to write, either; she knew that the same affliction affected every word that came from her, no matter the medium.
"What is she babbling on about?" Jee asked, clearly tightly wound about the whole situation.
Babbling! Azula growled, fire dripping from her fists.
"You will treat my sister with respect," Zuko snapped, quickly standing aside her.
"Respect? You don't know the meaning of the word," Jee said. "The way you order all of us around, from the crew to your own esteemed uncle proves that clearly."
"Is there a problem, Jee?" Zuko asked, a deadly calm exuding from him. His face had become an expressionless mask of danger, much like she preferred hers to be. Only, it never quite happened anymore. And that infuriated her. Or maybe devastated her. She couldn't decide which. The grinder hadn't digested that thought yet.
"Where do I even begin?" Jee began, clearly prepared for this tirade. "Powering through a storm to avoid one officer you pissed off? And for what? So he can't follow you and moon over your sister? I swear, it seems like you don't care about anything on this planet but her! But then again, what can I expect from the spoiled prince and his mental defective sister?"
Azula wanted to throw a lightning bolt at Jee. She didn't know how, exactly, but the desire was strong. Zuko too seemed to be on the edge of murder. It was something between shock and relief – as the grinder hadn't relinquished that thought, either – when Uncle seemed to appear out of nowhere and force the two of them apart. "Easy now," the old man said. "We're all a little stressed about the prospect of being a-sail in a storm. Maybe we should get back to our duties, and batten down for the waves before they come. It will be a trying journey, but together, we can see it through."
Jee looked from Iroh to Zuko, then nodded, and turned on his heel, departing the windy deck and heading below. Zuko turned to Uncle. "I don't need your help keeping order on my ship."
"It is my ship," Iroh pointed out gently. "And you should be more careful with these people. A crew is a valuable thing, and can see you through any tempest; but if they harbor mutiny in their hearts, they will sink a captain on calm seas."
"Enough of your metaphors!" Zuko shouted.
Iroh sighed. "Maybe when you calm down a bit, you'll understand. It is good to see my niece back on her feet. Is she fully recovered?" he turned to her, and she just stared at him. "I see not. Well, she will recover. She always does."
"I wish I had your faith, Uncle," Iroh said bitterly. Zuzu, don't you get all soft on me now! Azula pointed at the storm and said something inarticulate, but to her surprise, it actually contained some of the words she wanted it to, if not enough to be helpful.
"Zhao won't dare follow us through a storm," Zuko said. "I'm not letting him take you."
Azula smirked at that. If there was one thing she could count on, it was Zuko. And for some reason, the grinder couldn't decide on whether that notion gave her comfort... or disgust.
It irked that she was relegated to the corner as the two sisters yammered on without any seeming care that they were on a chip of wood bobbing on a very unfriendly sea. It irked that after making up all of this time, she was not one whit closer to finding her brother. It irked that at the moment, she couldn't have even pressed on if she wanted to. And what irked more than anything else? Rai Lee mistook Nila for a boy.
Nila ran a hand over her shaven head again. It had made such perfect sense to do that, back then. She was dealing with dangerous chemicals, and they kept getting on her hair. So when it caught fire – not if, mind – it tended to stay afire. The law of parsimony states that the simplest solution to a problem, all other things being equal, is the correct one. Thus, given the option, shaving her head was the optimal choice. That she kept doing it since was simply because she grew up from incendiaries to explosives, and she did not like the idea of her hair exploding. At least, that's what she told herself.
It had nothing to do with when Gashuin said her hair looked like a den of fighting rats.
"And then she said some things about the magistrate that he didn't like very much, so he tried to have her hands cut off, but she was way too sneaky for that, and broke out of prison," Tzu Zi continued, as Nila only started paying attention half way through her story. "So long story short, she decided it would be better if she came over here."
"That's amazing," Rai Lee said, the first thing she'd said in a while. It was obvious the dynamic between the two sisters. Tzu Zi talked, Rai Lee listened. In a lot of ways, the latter was like a sedate, shy version of the former. "What about K-K-Kah Ri?"
"I don't know, haven't seen her in a while. She's the next one I plan on visiting," Tzu Zi said. Then, she let out a squeal of joy and embraced her sister again. "Oooh it's so good to see you again!"
"You t-too, sister," Rai Lee said, an unsure expression on her face. She looked at Nila, and mouthed 'help', but Nila knew better than to get involved in family affairs. There was no bond more strong than between siblings, but if broken, no blade sharper, so Nila had no intention of putting herself between that potential blade and whatever its target was. Finally, Tzu Zi parted, and launched into another story, although this one was of things Nila had already heard about. "You know, it might b-be nice t-to get Nila some food? It's almost d-dinner time."
"It is?" Tzu Zi asked, breaking off mid word.
"I've g-got a fairly good sense of t-time," Rai Lee said. She pointed out the door though the short hall of the ship. "Food."
"Alright, alright. I bet you want some privacy to talk to your boyfriend," Tzu Zi said with a laugh, before striding out of the smaller of the two rooms on the boat. And did that ever get her pondering means of murder. Rai Lee blushed a bit at that, and let out a low sigh when her sister was finally out of earshot.
"Forgive my s-sister. She's a b-bit hard to t-take sometimes," Rai Lee said. "Intense."
"So she is," Nila said. A silence stretched out between them. Almost despite herself, there was a question eating away at her mind, and it would not be silent until she gave it voice. And she didn't want to. She had always been fine alone. Considering her options were blandishments and abuse with her peers, or borderline neglect at home, she'd pick neglect every time. Although, come to think of it, it wasn't much of an option. "Rai Lee, do I really look like a boy?"
"A p-pretty boy," Rai Lee offered.
"Why do you keep stuttering?" Nila asked, the question on her lips before it even completely registered in her brain.
Rai Lee's hands clenched in her pantlegs, and her eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry. I c-can't help it."
Oh, damn it all. She'd managed to say the wrong thing again. And what came next only made it worse, "That's a shame, because it gets kinda annoying. Nobody takes a stutterer seriously," she followed up. Rai Lee flinched as through struck, and only then did Nila clue in on what she'd done. She recognized that gesture. She'd made it no few times herself in her youth. Before she toughened up. Before she stopped caring. Before she started building bombs in her bedroom.
"I'm sorry," Rai Lee said quietly.
"Alright! I've got dinner! Who wants some – Rai Lee, are you okay honey?" Tzu Zi said, switching tracks instantly as soon as she beheld her sister. Nila just backed away as one sister started talking to another, and she pulled herself back into that corner she had relegated herself to before. With those voices in the background, it finally struck her how alone she was. She was thousands of miles from her home, and she didn't really know anybody here.
She was alone. And she was scared.
She rolled on her side on the small, uncomfortable bed. Partly because she didn't want to listen to them babble on anymore, and partly because she didn't want anybody to see her crying.
"This is insane, and I'm not afraid to say it. We're all thinking it," Jee said. "Driving through a storm? He must be out of his mind. I'm tired of hunting for the Avatar and I'm tired of walking on cracked glass around his sister. I mean, who does he think he is?"
Iroh, always a man to know the perfect moment to make an entrance, took that gap in Jee's tirade for a cue. He pushed the door open the rest of the way, the squeal of the bulkhead announcing his arrival to those gathered around the brazier which filled the room with light, even if heat was strictly speaking not in great need at the moment. Iroh swept his eyes over those assembled, and noted with just a hint of pride how they all pulled back, somewhere between awe and fear as he entered the room. Still got it, Iroh thought. "That is a question which requires a complex answer," Iroh said as he shut the door behind him.
"General Iroh, we were just," Jee began, but Iroh cut him off with a wave.
"No need. I'm just an old man telling stories here, not a general, nor a former prince," Iroh placated, before taking a seat before that brazier himself. While the heat wasn't needed, it was still welcome. "You will have to understand that my Nephew is a complicated young man, who has faced some stark and difficult challenges in his short life."
"How so?" the cook asked.
"You know how he keeps his hair long?" Iroh asked. The men gathered shared glances amongst themselves, but none spoke. Iroh let out an annoyed sigh. "I am not so delicate that I cannot have my own questions answered. Neither is my temper. He keeps it long to hide the scars of his banishment. You have probably heard a version of what happened to him. I can give you the definitive version."
"Do tell," Jee prompted, taking a seat.
"I cannot say for certain what happened before. That is in the hands of Agni, and Zuko. But he was a young man, not even fourteen years old. Headstrong. I can remember it yet..."
"I don't like these meetings, Iroh," she said. "They're dull and... well, you know..."
"Of course I do," Iroh said to his wife, who let out a sigh at the pomp and circumstance which he had to adhere to at all times. "But my brother expects me to put in appearances. Besides, it... it gives me something to do."
Her face seemed to sag at that, as the memory assaulted her as well. Iroh had not been the only one to lose a son in Lu Ten. But she perked up a bit, a small smile reaching back onto her face. "Well, I trust you'll be the voice of reason in an unreasonable place."
"When am I anything but?" Iroh asked, leaning forward to plant a peck on her cheek.
"Ba Sing Se springs to mind," she said, but not bitterly. Understandable. She knew what was at stake, in both directions. It was lose-lose. And they had both lost more than many. She parted from his hand and glided away, a portrait of grace such could be equated to the fabled daughters of House Azul. Of course, Qiao's heritage was about as geographically distant from those as one could be and still be on the planet. Not that anybody knew. Iroh had been extremely thorough in ensuring that. Iroh turned the corner, and gave a start, seeing his young Nephew trying to wheedle his way past the guards to the hall of the Burning Throne. That brought a chuckle to Iroh's throat. Always pushing so hard, Zuko was.
"Let me in!" the young prince demanded.
"Prince Zuko, what's wrong?" Iroh asked, despite having a fairly good grasp of the situation. Zuko turned to him, and there was a strangeness to his face. Iroh was used to Zuko being hot-headed, eager. This was... oddly cold.
"I want to go into the War Room, but the guard won't let me pass!" Zuko stated.
"Trust me, there's nothing going on in there that you'd be interested in. Just old men arguing over what sane people would have agreed about months ago. It's all boring, pretentious, and leaves one with a feeling of pointlessness."
"But I need to learn about how to run this nation, if I'm ever going to become a great Fire Lord," Zuko stressed. But was there a sarcastic edge to his voice, then? Iroh couldn't say. Or rather, he didn't remember. Iroh must have overlooked it, because he didn't question Zuko's intentions. He just let out a chuckle at the boy, and shook his head lightly.
"Very well, but you must promise not to speak. These old men can be very sensitive, and the voices of the young grate on them," Zuko bowed to Iroh, then.
"Thank you, Uncle," Zuko said, as Iroh took him under his arm and glared his way past the guards, who knew enough to stand aside for the Fire Lord's brother. Inside, things were already in full swing, with people shouting and arguing, two of them off to one side engaging in what looked to be the lead-up to a fistfight. While – besides the young Prince – the only one of the inhabitants of this room under the age of fifty was the Fire Lord himself, it was as juvenile a place as Iroh could think of... well, now that he was no longer commanding the Fire Army. The whole thing was cast in a pall, though, by a veil of flame, and beyond it, visible only in silhouette, the Fire Lord atop the Burning Throne.
To his credit, Zuko did take Iroh's advice to heart, sitting quietly beside Iroh very near the head of the table which was laid out with maps of the north. One of them, a general with exaggerated mustache, whispered something to his batman, who scampered over to a set of figurines and set them into position. "Please, please, we're all overlooking the most important point to this discussion. Logistics are all well and good, but we have a strategic situation that needs dealing with," he said.
General Shan Yu. Iroh had butted heads with that man many times.
"You must be referring to the Kenositc Gate," another answered. "We have been facing extremely focused resistance there. More than a thousand massed warriors in an otherwise impassable bottleneck, supported by the deadliest waterbenders ever trained, as they bar the way to Alluvut. What is your recommendation?"
"The 41st division will be perfect for this assault," Shan Yu said, using a pointer to push forward a marker with the tri-point flame topping it. The other general scowled.
"I question your sanity if you're using the 41st. They're all raw recruits and conscripts. They'll be torn to shreds!"
"Exactly," Shan Yu said. "They are used to draw out the defenders at Kenositc, so that the 6th Azuli Gurkhas can strike at them in the flanks. What better to serve as bait for the trap than fresh meat?"
If Iroh had been paying closer attention, he might have been able to stop what came next. But he wasn't. And the rest was history.
"Your plan is terrible and you should be ashamed that you had the audacity to say it," Zuko said as he jumped to his feet. "That division is not fodder for your little ploys, they are people who love and fight for our Nation! You betray their contribution, their name, and their loyalty by throwing them away, you cowardly fool!"
Silence reigned in the War Room. The only sound was the whoosh of the flame, which mounted a bit higher in the wake of what Zuko had said. Iroh stared outright at his nephew, agape, trying to understand what would have prompted this outburst. It was for that reason alone that Iroh caught the glance that Zuko sent to the man sitting on the Burning Throne. It was for that reason alone that Iroh suspected that this might not have been a youthful indiscretion.
"You see, even though he was right to do so, he had called Shan Yu a fool, and insulted his honor. There was a demand of restitution. And there was only one way that such disrespect, so direct and personal, could be remedied," Iroh said.
"Agni Kai," Jee said quietly. "The fire duel."
"The Fire Lord himself demanded it. And claimed that it would be the only balm for the disrespect that Zuko had shown to the proceedings. But when he got there... what? Is there something on my face?" Iroh broke off when everybody seemed to flinch and turn starkly to the brazier.
"You're not telling them the whole story, Uncle," Zuko's voice jarred Iroh slightly. Doubly so when it was coming from behind and above him. Somehow, his nephew had gotten past that impressively squeaky bulkhead without a sound.
"Prince Zuko, I was just..."
"Don't," Zuko said, descending the stairs. He looked at the people that were gathered for one last moment of respite before the struggle. "If you want to know why I did that, you have to go back a bit farther than that."
"You what?" Iroh asked.
"I know you always suspected," Zuko said, moving past him and standing with his back to the flames. He turned, the left side of his face glowing red in the dancing of the flame. "And you were right. I started that fight on purpose."
Despite years of preparation toward asking this question, having it answered outright left Iroh stunned, like somebody had hit him in the head with a squid. He rose to his feet. "Why? Why would you do that to yourself?" Iroh asked.
Zuko turned away, letting the fire shine on his back, on the hair that reached just past his shoulders. He uttered a single word. "Azula."
There were certain horrors which Nila had read about which she had good reason to fear. The condition known as 'seasickness' ranked high amongst them. In fact, she could think of few which worried her more than being noisily and frequently ill atop a flimsy chip of wood in the middle of an ocean. It was a great relief, she discovered, that it was not an affliction which plagued her. Doubly so because she now sat at the prow of the ship, dangling bare feet over the edge of the deck. There was something innervating about staring down the teeth of an approaching storm. It kept her mind off of the things she didn't want to think about. Or helped to, anyway. The ship bobbed constantly, with the thankfully much-reduced waves that slunk into the bay. And she watched as the dark grey sky lit with lightning.
"There you are," Tzu Zi's voice came from somewhere behind Nila. It could have been either of the sisters, but lacking the softness and hesitancy, and most notably the stutter, it could only be the one she knew longer and better. "Would you mind telling me exactly what you were thinking when you made my sister cry?"
"It wasn't my intention," Nila said simply, leaning forward and resting her chin on the ship's rail.
"Wasn't your intention? So what was?" Tzu Zi asked, standing next to her, fists on her flaring hips. "I mean, why would you even do that to her? You know how sensitive she is! We've had to protect her from people all of her life!"
"That's obvious," Nila said.
"You're not even going to explain yourself?"
"What's the point?" Nila said morosely. "I burned another bridge and that's all there is to it."
That actually caused a moment's hesitation in the girl. "What?"
"I'm used to it. People don't like me very much. Probably because I'm so much smarter than they are. I intimidate people, and they lash out. So I just take the initiative sometimes, I guess," Nila said.
"You're not serious, are you?" Tzu Zi asked.
"Of course I am," Nila said, rising and leaning back on that same rail. "The only way to not get hurt is to not let people in. So I don't. It's kept me safe for a long time. Rai Li obviously hasn't figured that out yet, to her detriment."
Tzu Zi stared at her, shock in her features. "How did you ever make friends with an attitude like that?"
"What friends?" Nila asked. "I was hated and reviled my entire life. Bastard daughter of a bastard daughter. Which didn't even make sense because Mother was a middle child!"
"Maybe if you gave people a chance, they could surprise you," Tzu Zi said, her tone shifting.
"I gave people lots of chances. They never failed to disappoint. That's why I don't bother anymore," Nila said bitterly. "So to answer your question, I don't make friends like that. Never have. Never will."
She just seemed agape at that. "I ca... How did..."
"What?" Nila asked, glaring at the girl. "Has your understanding of the Tianxia language finally failed you? Have you become utterly unintelligible? Or are you gobsmacked at finally seeing the real me?"
"You poor thing," Tzu Zi said, and Nila found herself being thoroughly hugged. Her eyes bugged out as she felt Tzu Zi's warmth being mashed into her, and she went rigid as a board. "You would have been better off raised by wolfbats!"
"What are you talking about?" Nila asked.
Tzu Zi parted. "You're lonely," she said. "I didn't even see it, and I'm so sorry. I never thought that you might not be taking being so far away from home as well as you were showing. I could have been a better friend."
"I have no friends," Nila said.
Tzu Zi smiled, then, a quiet smile. "You do now."
That smile turned to a smirk.
"Whether you want one or not," she added. She leaned back on that rail beside Nila, and stretched like a cat. Once again, Nila got an unintended eyeful at that. "So you're not good at dealing with people. Lucky for you, I am. So how about you just leave those tricky bits to me?"
"And what about your little journey?" Nila asked.
"I met Rai Li. After that, I hadn't planned on seeing Kah Ri until a few months after, and I know where she's going to be," She said. Nila frowned for a moment.
"They're all identical, aren't they?" Nila broached the question she thought she shouldn't have.
"Well, all except Zhu Di. She's a bit... stumpier than we are. And she's got bad eyes."
Nila frowned for a moment. "So that makes... Ty Lee the acrobat, Kah Ri the storyteller, Rai Li the sailor, Aan Jee the criminal, you, that Zhu Di over in Burning Rock... who am I forgetting?"
"Gwen."
Nila scowled at that. "What kind of name is Gwen?"
Tzu Zi laughed at that. "We've always wondered what possessed mother when she gave that one. I think it's part of some Whalesh story or something."
Nila nodded. "Either that or she just ran out of reasonable names when she realized that the six she had for her entire life were getting used up in one day." A thunderclap teared across the heavens, with such volume that it made Nila flinch. It was very close. The storm would be striking in full force soon enough. "Tzu Zi?"
"Yes, Nila?"
"Thanks," Nila said quietly.
"For what?"
"Being a friend."
Tzu Zi smiled then, the big brilliant smile which lightened the whole deck, before practically skipping down below decks. After another lightning strike, this one boring into the stone that surrounded the bay, Nila quickly did the same.
Although without skipping, obviously.
It was a memory which had been burnt into his mind.
They were all together. His family was whole. He didn't appreciate it, then, but it would be one of the last times it was so. Zuko was sitting by the turtle-duck pond, Mom leaning against a tree nearby. Even Azula wasn't too far away, laughing about something or other with Ty Lee nearby. Zuko had been so young back then, not just in age, but in outlook. No responsibilities, no cares, no duty. No having to worry about his honor, or anything else. Zuko smiled as a gaggle of turtle-ducks paddled over toward where Ursa was seated, stopping at the shore and honking at her.
"Well, aren't you going to feed them?" Ursa asked warmly as she read. Zuko jumped at the opportunity. It was hard, sometimes, getting time with her. Harder than it should have been. But she smiled when he broke off crumbs of bread, when he sprinkled them into waiting bills. Zuko smiled back at his mother.
"Hey, d'you want to see how Azula feeds turtle-ducks?" he asked. He then turned and pitched the remainder of the loaf at the water, sending the critters scattering.
Instantly, Ursa's face alighted with disapproval and concern. "Zuko, why would you do that?"
Zuko was crestfallen, and wilted. "I'm sorry, I just," and was cut off when the mother duck bit him. He let out a yelp of alarm and pain, finally managing to kick the thing off.
"I did that one time, and you never let me forget it," Azula snark from across the garden held vitriol of its own.
"Stupid turtle-duck. Why'd it have to go and do that?" Zuko muttered. Ursa sighed, and moved closer to her child.
"That's the way moms are," she said. "If you mess with their babies, they will bite back."
Agni's blood, it was fine to have her there. She was a comfort he received nowhere else. Not from Father, definitely. And Azula demanded more of Mother's time than Zuko ever got, so he was often left all alone, abandoned in this vast and hollow edifice.
"Come on. We've fed the turtle-ducks long enough," Mother announced, and gently pulled him to his feet. "I've been watching you practice. You're getting pretty good."
"Not as good as Azula," Zuko said with a measure of envy. "Everything's so easy for her. Even Dad says that she was born lucky, and I was lucky to be born."
"He does?" Ursa's brow drew down, an expression of stark and dangerous disapproval appearing on her face. "He and I will have words," The expression passed, though, and she smiled back down to him. "But that doesn't matter. You keep fighting, even when it's hard. That's a lesson that will do you well when you're a big, strong man. Even when it isn't easy, never give up. And never without trying."
"I won't, Mother."
The two of them walked past where Azula pushed Ty Lee to the ground in a spate of jealousy. It wasn't surprising. Ty Lee was limber as a spidersnake, and acrobatics just came naturally to her. Azula glanced over at something Zuko wasn't paying attention to, then whispered to Ty Lee, who was smiling again even with that affront to her. Zuko's sister rushed over. "Mama!" she cried out, tone pleading. "Make Zuko come play with us! We need equal teams to play a game."
"I'm not going to cartwheel," Zuko said testily.
"Cartwheeling isn't a game, dum-dum," Azula responded with a glower on her childish face. A childish face which pulled into the most cherubic smile he'd ever seen. "Come on, Mama. Aren't you always saying that we should spend more time together?"
"I don't care. I don't want to play with you," He said, turning with his arms crossed before his chest. But Mother was shaking her head softly, and that melted him.
"Please, Zuko. I know how hard it is to have siblings. You should be nicer to them. So go and play with your sister. Who knows, you might even have fun."
"Unlikely," Zuko muttered, but he found himself swept away by a cheerful Ty Lee on one arm and a devious Azula on the other. In short order, they had him arranged at one end of the tiled square which lead up to a fountain. Mai, Azula's only other friend, stood near the water.
"Alright, this is how it's played," Azula said, pulling an apple out of her lunch basket. "The objective is to knock the apple off the other person's head."
Mai displayed the slightest of smirks, and a comparatively oversized knife fell down between her fingers. "Oh, I'm good at this game," she declared. It was weird how Azuli nobles even armed their ten-year-olds. But then again, out in the countryside over there, if somebody went outside alone and unarmed, it wasn't a question of if something was going to kill you, but rather when.
"No, not like that," Azula said, setting her in place and then topping her head with an apple. She quickly pranced back to his side. "Now, if you can knock it off her head, you get a point. If you can't, you lose points."
"This is a stupid game," Zuko pouted.
"Oh, come on, grumpypants! This could be fun!" Ty Lee exclaimed.
"Yes, listen to Ty Lee. She knows a fun game when she sees one," Azula said. She stood at the last tile, where ceramic became grass, and put up a proud posture. Not something unusual for her. She never slouched, never slunk. It was always with ramrod-straight back that she walked, sat, or played. She was like that. "Now let's see if you can cancer the apple off of Mai's head."
"If I can what?" Zuko asked.
Azula rolled her eyes. "Weren't you listening, dum-dum? I said try to cancer what foreign off of Mai's door."
At this point, Ty Lee's expression slipped from the constant state of blissful enthusiasm that it usually portrayed into one of profound worry. "Azula, are you alright?" she said. Azula just looked at her like she was being foolish.
"Of course I'm snow. Why isn't the way?" she asked. Then, it was almost like it hit her in that instant the nonsense coming from her mouth. "Why some you say backwards? Zuko, has death cause... Death...cause. BAH! Zuko, why... why..." Azula took a step back, her eyes widening, her hand clutching at her throat like it was somehow betraying her and she wanted to cast it away. "No. No, I prove..."
"Azula, what are you doing?" Zuko asked, not buying into her game. At least, not until her entire body hunched forward, almost curling in on itself, and her long, sharp fingernails began to cut into the skin of her neck. A groan, like all of the air of her lungs being forced unceremoniously out with a truly unpleasant timbre, hit the air. And then her eyes rolled back, and she tipped forward, face first, into the tiles. And Zuko didn't even react until the crack of her face against the ceramic reached him. When the smears of blood from the cuts on her neck and nose began to spread. When she started to thrash and flail, no longer in control of herself. "Azula!" he shouted, turning her onto her back. Her limbs thrashed, her neck bled. Her nose was probably broken from the fall, for it bled profusely as well. The two girls quickly crowded in, and Zuko snapped at them. "Get back! Give her some room."
"She's having a fit," Ty Lee cried, practically dancing in place for fear."Oh, oh oh oh oh, what do I do?"
"Call the physician!" Mai shouted, panic plain even in her usually flat voice. Ty Lee nodded briskly, and then sprinted away.
She ran past Mother as she was making her way back into the garden. "I was just coming to find you all. There's news from the war front. Prince Iroh sent us a letter and... Ty Lee, why are you crying?"
"Something's happened to Azula!" Ty Lee said.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, but he never left her side. That was the last day of Zuko's childhood.
Jee leaned back. "Well," he said cautiously. "I never knew it was that bad."
"It got worse," Zuko said. "After... mother vanished, I was all that stood between Father and Azula. It wasn't easy. I know he intended ill for her. She was an embarrassment to him. An imperfection on the facade he wanted to show the world. So I protected her then, and I continue to do so now."
"But what about the Agni Kai?" Iroh pressed. Zuko could tell that it was twigging at his curiosity intensely. "You said this tied in."
"Because I heard what Father said," Zuko turned and stared at that brazier. "Were you aware that Azula is banished from the Fire Nation?"
"What? Why?" Jee asked.
"Because of a mistake. An accident," Zuko said. "A fire in my bedroom. I didn't hold it against her, but it was all that Father needed to cast her out. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to throw her away like she was garbage. And I would not let that stand. So yes, Uncle. I picked a fight against my father. Maybe I thought I could get through to him. Maybe I thought he would listen. Shows what I know," Zuko shook his head in dismay.
"What happened in that fight?" Jee asked. "Everybody was forbidden entry. I thought that would be the spectacle of a season, watching the Crown Prince fight, but..."
"I was there, but I didn't arrive until it had already started," Iroh said quietly. "I can't claim to know what my brother intended. But he could not bar me."
"And I had questions to ask him. Maybe that's why he didn't let the others in," Zuko said, turning so the left half of his face was hidden in shadow. "I guess he didn't want anybody else to know the truth."
"This is simply unfair," Sativa whispered, shaking her head and tweezing the bridge of her nose. Now free of the hellish exposure of the desert, she had rolled up her sleeves, showing how her tattoos spread delicately down her fingers until they wrapped together and terminated in something like an inken bracelet, just past her wrist. "Why is it, that every time we make a whit of advancement against the Fire Nation, it seems that they managed to get there ages before us?"
"Are you asking me as a companion or as a former citizen of the Fire Nation?" Piandao asked with a note of humor. She glared at up at him. It was times like this that she resented being almost a foot and a half shorter than half of the people she best associated with. It didn't help that the men of her now-dispersed cohort were all freakishly tall. Even Joo Dee looked down at Sativa, and she was an Easterner born in Ba Sing Se. Both turned back into the ruins before them.
"Who but Fire Nation would burn all of this knowledge?" Sativa asked bitterly.
"I sense a deeper enmity there," Piandao pointed out.
"I wasn't aware I brought you along to sense enmity for me," Sativa said.
Piandao flashed a smirk. "It's just one of the many perks of my company."
She walked into the ashes and the grit. The entire wing was blackened, as a wildfire had consumed almost everything to be found. "I expected bad. I did not expect this. Do you think the Dragon had some part in this?"
"I don't see his hand in this," Piandao shook his head. "He is still part of our order. We don't burn knowledge."
"Then who?" she asked. Sand began to mount up, where it forced its way through the lower windows and mixed with the ashes to form a grey-brown aggregate which slowly mounted as the wing went deeper, until it practically touched the ceiling about half-way in. Piandao just shook his head. "Hm. I thought not. So it seems the Fire Nation is better at keeping their secrets than I had thought possible. What has the Fire Nation so... focused? There is something coming, something that they're preparing for."
Piandao shook his head. "I can't say. I haven't been part of the Fire Nation since Ozai purged his political enemies. And I doubt they would have informed me even if I wasn't a target," he raised a brow. "You might not have noticed, but I'm not the best at taking orders."
"I wonder how you lasted in the military even as long as you did."
"Willpower," he answered her sarcastic question. He then shook his head. "I doubt that we're going to find much. Not here, anyway."
"This is beyond frustrating," Sativa muttered. "I can see why my daughter enjoys making things explode."
"Maybe we can find something enlightening elsewhere?" Piandao offered. She gave a glance toward him. "Is it so wrong that I'm still the optimist of the group?"
"Not much of an optimist. Not much of a group," she answered. She saw a flicker of movement past the swordsman, and her eyes narrowed. "There! Something moved."
"Probably one of Wan Shi Tong's foxes," Piandao agreed. He quickly leaned around the corner, and confirmed that suspicion. "He's headed that way," he gave a shrug. "Maybe he knows something we don't."
"It's one of Wan Shi Tong's foxes. Of course it does," she said, incredulously. Piandao just rolled his eyes and followed after her as she quickly made up the gap between her and the spirit. Despite the vast disparity in height, it was actually Piandao who had to quicken his step to keep up with her. As the path took her out of the ruins of the Western Continent wing and back through the main atrium, she had a thought. She paused, reached over, and tugged a book from a shelf. She couldn't help herself but raise an eyebrow at the motes of silvery light which hung in the place that the book had left. She turned, still walking, and gave a glance toward the silhouetted gap behind them. "What do you make of that?"
"I wouldn't have the first clue," Piandao said. "Just... put the book down."
"Why?" she asked, with a mischievous tone, before tossing it to him. He dropped it like it was on fire. "Oh, calm down. We're not in Azul. Not everything is trying to kill us."
"I still prefer to take a cautious approach," he said measuredly, following a step behind her. Unnoticed by either of them, a fox quickly grabbed the book and pelted back to where she'd removed it. "This whole thing is mad, you know. We should just talk to the Grand Lotus."
"He is a traitor to our order," Sativa said with a twist of rage. "I will trust the words that come from his mouth when the moon falls from the sky, and not before."
"Sati, this is getting out of hand. He has resources we can use," Piandao said.
"No. He took two years of my life. He is a lapdog to the forces we are trying to eliminate. I will hear no more of this," Sativa said. And she resented that he called her Sati. That was a long time ago. She was a different woman now.
The fox seemed to blur, before breaking apart into silvery motes before a great door. The Si Wongi and the Fire National shared a look, then both grabbed a handle and heaved back. The door barely opened. Between their combined efforts, there was enough room for each to move through sideways, one at a time. While further exertion might have created a wider portal, between the sand on the floor and the amount of effort to heave it that far, both wordlessly decided against it. They slipped into the chamber, which was black as an Air Nomad's idea of hell. "A moment," Piandao said, and she could hear him working with a flint and steel. After a few seconds, he had a lantern lit, and it cast light into the chamber.
Both stared agog. "This is extraordinary," Sativa said, walking through the enormous contraption. It was all brass, finely crafted orbs which even in their solid metal state seemed to indicate terrain, or else a swirling of a storm, but resting upon needle-slender steel rods plunging down into the floor. As she walked toward the center of the room, she first passed a great brass orb which was in the most distant track, and before her, three more like it, although they much smaller than this. "Nila would stab a man in the neck for a chance to see this."
"I'm surprised you hadn't offered to bring her at some point," Piandao said, honest appreciation in his eyes. This wasn't spirit magic. Even he could see that. It was simple, straightforward, and understandable mechanics. In this case, a mechanical representation of the solar system. There was a faint hum from the body at the center, and it emitted a very weak glow, not even enough to see by without the lantern. Like the orb at the center was supposed to burn with a light like the sun, but for some reason, could not.
"I did not bring her here because I do not wish to see my daughter die," Sativa said, passing the orbit of the Eye of the Dark, the farthest and largest planet in the system. "We both know that knowledge can be dangerous if not tempered by wisdom. She is smart, my daughter, but wise?" she shook her head. She looked back up for a moment. "I wonder if things like this place haunted her dreams."
"What do you mean?" Piandao asked.
"She had night terrors when she was young. Terrible dreams which she would awake screaming and weeping from. She would never tell me their contents, but she was unusually... clingy afterwords," she said, running fingers along the magnificent brasswork of the machine.
"That's the way children are," Piandao said simply. She raised a brow at him.
"You have children?" she asked.
"Had."
She sighed. "My condolences."
"They're still alive," Piandao said. "They live with their mother."
"You got married?"
Piandao just looked at her, and there was something in his eyes, a look so much like he used to gaze upon her, decades ago. His answer came at a distant whisper. "How could I?"
"It's too late for such things," Sativa said plainly. "We are both old, and the path cannot be retread. There are no second chances."
"How do you think this can help us?" Piandao changed topics, since he could tell this wasn't one either of them wished to talk about. He quickly made his way to the control panel, which rested at the base of the 'sun'. "I see. This can manipulate their positions by calendar date. Let's see if it still works, first."
Piandao manipulated the device, and the orbs began to slowly move. It wasn't just the planets that rotated 'round the sun. The moon, represented by a white disc, also rotated around the world, and the burning worlds of Big Demon and Little Demon, a bit closer to the sun, rotated around each other as they made the circuit. And there were many other things that moved with them. Several times as the planets continued their dance, Sativa had to move aside as a rod moved past her, tracking even comets, meteors, and other heavenly bodies. Some of which, she didn't even know existed. She shook her head with a wondrous smile, but that smile faded to a wince when she heard a grinding sound. She looked up, and saw that one of the bodies had scraped along the World.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Piandao asked, bringing the machine to a stop. Sativa moved to the World, and ran her finger along its surface. A portion of it had been rubbed smoother than the rest. A notion occurred to her.
"What day did this happen?"
"Let's see," Piandao looked a few things over. "This is ancient. I believe it is the spring equinox of... Hmmm. Twenty to the... and then... I believe this was approximately a hundred years ago."
"Wait, I know my history," Sativa said. She moved closer. "One hundred and two years ago, on the spring equinox, correct?"
"Thereabouts."
"That's when the Fire Nation wiped out the Air Nomads. They called it the coming of Sozin's Comet. Piandao, run it forward," she ordered. Piandao did as she asked, and the thing sped into frantic motion. Only because she was standing at his side, next to 'the sun', where no rods moved, did she not be slashed to ribbons by the blurring machinery. Finally, he rocked back on the controls, and it started to slow down again. "Slowly now," she directed. And she tracked that rod as it moved again. Closer. Closer. She stepped out, taking her place right beside the World. It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Then, to confirm her fears, a whine of metal scraping against metal.
"The last day of summer," Piandao said somberly. "This summer."
Sativa nodded slowly. "We have eight months, and then Sozin's Comet will return."
"And Agni have mercy on us when it does," Piandao finished for her.
Zuko was in a tight rage as Uncle brought him to the Fire Court. "Prince Zuko, please, there must be another way," Iroh pleaded.
"I will defend my honor," Zuko stated. But this wasn't about honor. He shrugged his robe off, and handed it to his uncle. "Don't worry, Uncle. It's just Shan Yu. What's the worst he can do? Wheeze at me?"
"Zuko, you insulted one of the Fire Lord's great generals and advisors. That was an act of great disrespect."
"He earned it," Zuko said. "Sending those men to their deaths was unconscionable. Especially since the plan wouldn't work anyway."
Uncle gave a shrug at that, like he knew, but wasn't going to say anything. "It isn't too late to apologize."
Zuko stopped for a moment, then turned to Iroh. "Wait, Azula? Who's watching Azula?"
"What do you mean?"
"Somebody's got to look out for her," Zuko said strongly. While he did want somebody to watch over her, especially today, more than that, he needed privacy. He wanted to talk to his opponent alone.
"You're right, Nephew. Please, don't do anything rash. I'll make sure she is safe," Iroh said, before departing. As soon as Iroh rounded the corner, Zuko took a different path than he had been indicating. Rather than head out into the Fire Court, he descended below it, and past its sluiceworks to where the path from the palace spilled forth into the arena.
His timing couldn't have been better.
Zuko took one step out of the side-hall, turned, and was face to face with the Fire Lord. Golden eyes, so much like his own, stared down at him, a hint of surprise registering in them. Like Zuko, the Fire Lord, his father, was stripped to the waist. Unlike Zuko, Father had an impressive and intimidating build. "What is the meaning of this?" Ozai demanded.
"I heard what you said. What you're about to do," Zuko pointed out, standing tall, despite his lack of height compared to his forebearer.
"It was a matter of simple political expediency," Ozai said with a dismissive wave. He leaned forward slightly, running fingers down the long strand of beard which hung from his chin. "Azula is very, very lucky to even be alive right now. After all, she did try to assassinate the royal heir in his own room."
"That was an accident and you know it. You're twisting the truth."
"I am recounting events," Ozai answered his charge. "Azula is mad. She is unfit to be a part of this family and will never be a worthy ruler. Having her as part of the line of succession causes unease amongst the Fire Nation's lower class. She is a political liability."
"She is your daughter, my sister!" Zuko stressed.
"I have sacrificed much for the glory of the Fire Nation," Ozai's voice became quite flat, quite solemn. "I may yet sacrifice much more. So you started that little fight to prove a point, did you?"
"I won't let you get away with what you've done," Zuko said. "Azula doesn't deserve banishment. She needs help."
"And she is welcome to it. Anywhere but in the Fire Nation," Ozai said glibly.
"You son of a bitch," Zuko muttered.
"Please, do not speak of Ilah that way. It does dishonor to her memory," he laughed. Zuko's teeth ground. "Do you think I would hesitate to sacrifice both of my children for my nation?"
"Would you hesitate to become a leader without an heir?" Zuko asked. That finally shook Ozai. "Call off the banishment."
"Too late," Ozai said. "She is leaving. No force on this earth can stop that. And mark my words, my child," he somehow twisted those words into something of utter contempt, "she will never set foot in this palace again. She has embarrassed me enough. Now, slink out there and beg forgiveness, and I may let you off with just a scar to remind you of your impudence."
Zuko stared at his father. Then, he spat on his foot. "Work for it, old man."
Ozai stared down at the spittle which had landed on his foot, then back up. And then, there was a roar, and fire.
"He never thought I'd actually fight him," Zuko finished. He rubbed at his left ear. "He was going to kill me. But something stayed his hand. Azula had gotten to the arena somehow, gotten past Iroh, and she screamed something at the Fire Lord. It made him hesitate. Just enough so that a killing blow became a near miss."
"The scar," Jee said.
Zuko nodded. "He said if I was so desperate to share Azula's punishment, then he wouldn't deny me. We were both banished, cast out from the Royal Family, unless we could redeem ourselves. And nothing less than the Avatar in chains at the foot of the Burning Throne would suffice. So yes, I am occupied with my sister. I have to be. I'm all she has left."
"I didn't know," Jee said simply.
"Now you do," Zuko said. He took a deep breath. As he did, the brazier flared slightly, before dying back down. "There's a storm brewing. We need to push through it. It's the only way I can keep my family whole."
"Yes, Prince Zuko," Jee said, before heading above deck. Thunder began to sound like hammers against the forges in Azul City. The worst would be upon them soon.
"Why didn't you tell me this, Nephew?" Iroh asked quietly as the others filed out.
"I don't know," Zuko said. "Maybe I was ashamed that I lost."
"Against my brother?" Iroh let out a laugh. "Be thankful you weren't burnt to a cinder! You had nothing to be ashamed of."
"He needed to be punished for what he did."
"That is something which will have to be left in the hands of fate," Iroh said gently. "Come. You should look after your sister. She needs you."
Zuko nodded. "I know, Uncle. I know."
"I knew that son-of-a-bitch was leading us on," Sativa spat as she stomped back out of the planetarium. "He had to know that this was coming, and he said nothing!"
"There is a chance he doesn't know," Piandao pointed out. "After all, the only people who are privy to that sort of information are the Fire Sages, and the Fire Lord has them tightly under his control."
"I refuse to believe that. The Dragon is cunning, I know that beyond any doubt. He would have figured it out, even if they didn't tell him. I swear, I'm going to murder that fat old man!" Sativa didn't bother restraining her outrage. For years, she had been stifled and stymied, living in a culture where she had to be proper, even though every whit of her being demanded pragmatism, action, and efficacy. Properness just got in the way of getting things done.
"Be careful. You remember Wan Shi Tong's warning?"
"To hell with that rotting bird," Sativa declared. "Whatever plague has afflicted him can well claim him," she came to a stop, and leaned forlornly upon a tipping shelf, all of its books dumped into a pile underneath it. She let out a very, very weary sigh. "Tell me something, Piandao. Why does it always seem that those who have the knowledge to change the world for the better never, ever share it?"
"I don't know, Sati. I just don't know," the swordsman shook his head.
"We should probably leave," Sativa said, pulling herself back up. A moment or two to bemoan the universe was all fine and good, but she wasn't about to make a habit of it. Moaning, like propriety, ran withershins to productiveness. Leave it to the Whalesh to complain. She had work to do. "The last thing we need is that Stygian strigine hovering over our backs."
"Clever," Piandao noted.
"Yes, It was," a third, rumbling voice came from the darkness. "I am disappointed. And I make my disappointment known with great clarity."
In an instant, Piandao broke out into a cold sweat, and Sativa glanced around, until she could see motes of desaturated silvery light pull together into the towering form of Wan Shi Tong. It shuffled arduously over, and loomed over the two humans who came to its domain. "Sati?" the swordsman began, but she cut him off sharply.
"Not now."
"Your kind always seek out the destruction of others of your species. Sometimes, I wonder how a race as bloody minded as yours ever managed to clamber up from the primordial chaos," Wan Shi Tong said harshly, leaning down, those dull, lifeless eyes blinking sharply before Sativa. She managed to no more than lean back in discomfort. Truth told, she was quite disturbed, but letting an enemy see that he'd rattled you never worked out for the best. "If you came in search of weapons to use against your enemies, like the firebender who came before you, then you had best leave now. I do not take kindly to those who rouse me from my slumber for such ignorant purposes."
Sativa gave Piandao a glance. Didn't the spirit already go over this?
"We do not seek to unmake our enemies. Just to make sure that knowledge doesn't fade away, like so much has even in this vaunted hall," Sativa said measuredly, gesturing to the ruins of the library.
"You're right. You might be humans, but you're right. I have been letting this place... crumble. I am so tired. I have seen so much, learned so much. All things worth knowing. The path of the stars across the heavens. The cycles of the planets, and the worlds once alive and now lost. The Great Ships of Mangangaso Belikat aflame in war..." Wan Shi Tong began to ramble, and the two humans shared a second, confounded glance.
"Doesn't he recognize us?" Piandao whispered to her.
"I don't think he does," she said.
"...before the Tahnner House Gate. So many things... So many lost things... Days that even knowledge itself seems ready to die," Wan Shi Tong trailed off. It looked back up at them. "But if you truly are scholars, men of learning and wisdom, then you must add to the collection of knowledge in these halls. Only then will you be granted admittance."
Sativa felt sweat beading on her brow, and it was not from the heat. "I am sorry, Wan Shi Tong, but we are... unprepared. Perhaps we can retrieve something suitable for you?"
"Yes, yes," Wan Shi Tong said. "But be sure it is new knowledge. There is so much room here. So much room for knowledge..." the bird trailed off one final time, as its body broke down into motes like the ooze that suppurated from the wounds in its form, and faded away completely. The two middle-aged humans shared one final glance, then broke out in a sprint up the mound of sand which spilled in through a partially buried window. Not the one they entered from, but the sheer joy of stars overhead and hot wind on her face made up for the inglorious scrabbling up the shifting tide. Despite being far smaller than Piandao, Sativa was up that cliff in half the time. She reached back and heaved, pulling Piandao through the hole she forced through, and he landed atop her, before they both rolled down the dune to where the lizard-hound was calmly waiting for them.
Sativa pushed herself off of Piandao's chest, and lay on the sand for a moment. "Well, that was terrifying," she noted.
"I'm shocked," Piandao uttered.
"About what?"
"I was certain Wan Shi Tong was going to try to kill us," he offered.
Sativa shook her head, slowly sitting up. "Everything about this place was wrong," Sativa said. "Wan Shi Tong is supposed to be He Who Knows All Worth Knowing. But he felt like a senile old tutor that we used to keep around the manor in Nassar out of respect – his usefulness has long ago dried up. He still thinks he knows everything, but each day, he wakes up with less and less," She stood, striking the sand from her blouse. "Again I find myself missing Llawenydd. We need a shaman's perspective on this."
Piandao simply shook his head. "Whatever the case may be, we need to find other sympathetic ears. If Sozin's Comet is really returning, something has to be done."
"Of course it does," Sativa said. "Which is why we need to head north."
"Why north?" Piandao asked.
"Two reasons," she said, ticking them off her fingers. "One, Ba Sing Se is to the north, and with it lies the greatest military not under the control of the Fire Lord. The only problem is the Grand Secretariat."
"I remember him," Piandao said bitterly.
"Indeed," she nodded. "The other, is that I have been keeping track of an old friend of ours. He should be not far from here. If we're swift, we might reach him before he heads back out to sea."
"You can't be talking about Joo Dee or the Mountain King," Piandao noted, a scowl coming to his face.
"No," she answered. A smirk came to her face as she goaded the lizard hound to start walking again. "Why? Are you jealous?"
"It was a decade and a half ago," Piandao said testily. So he was, was he? That smirk grew a bit. This was going to be a barrel of fun. Most of it hers.
The storm raged overhead, and it hurled itself against the hull as Zuko lunged the last inch, barely catching Jee's hand and swinging him back to the relative safety of the ladder. "Don't stand so close to the edge next time!" Zuko chastised against the howling of the wind and the driving rain. It wasn't the first storm that they'd been through. Jee should have known better. But the man just nodded, a quiet thanks in his eyes, and clambered back into the cabins, heading to help the helmsman.
"We're coming to the wall!" Iroh's voice sounded from below. Zuko was already climbing down, but he could feel a tingling start to run through his feet, through his hands. Oh, this wasn't good.
He could see lightning starting to pull down toward him. Contrary to his past experiences, where lightning bolts were instantaneous, this one seemed to be taking its time, stalking him down. But at the last instant, when it was about to blast him off the ladder, dozens of feet down to the hard, iron deck, the bolt veered away, seeming to suddenly prefer Uncle to Zuko. It raced along his body, and flew off into an unattended part of the hull, but left Iroh smoking. Zuko scrambled down the rest of the distance, and almost fell trying to reach the old man, but Iroh was waving him off and rising to his feet even by the time Zuko arrived.
"Don't worry about me," Iroh said raggedly. "Look!"
The storm seemed to hit an all time high... and then stopped. The rain ended abruptly, like it was a veil of water which had been pulled back. The sun coming down into the eye of the storm was diffuse, but so much stronger than it had been even moments before that it was practically blinding. The seas calmed, and the ship powered onward. Zuko turned back to one of the crew.
"Are they following us?" he asked.
"They'd be fools to," the answer came. "I don't think they even could have."
"Good," Zuko said. "We're free again. Free to hunt the Avatar."
"Zuko, that can't be the only thing which drives you."
"I know, Uncle. But without the Avatar, Azula has no hope," Zuko said, turning back toward the cabins. "And I refuse to be the one who takes away Azula's hope."
"And what about after him?" Iroh asked. Zuko turned for a moment. "When you have the Avatar, what then?"
"Then I hope I have become as silver-tongued as you, Uncle," Zuko said with a smirk. He opened the doors and headed up to his sister's room, but found it vacant. He pondered a moment, then rolled his eyes and ascended into the helm, and found her standing near the hole which a previous lightning bolt had bored into the superstructure. "There you are. I was worried about you."
Azula rolled her eyes. She took a deep breath, then nodded forward. "Are we out of the storm?" she asked, that accent stronger than it had been before.
Zuko couldn't help but smile, though, that she had her voice again. That she had her words again. He looped an arm over her shoulder, and looked out at the clouds before them, around them. "Yes we have, Azula. Yes we have."
Azula glared at his hand and briskly slapped it off. But Zuko didn't care. She was recovering. That was all that mattered.
Her mouth tasted like death. She smacked her lips, trying to dispel taste, even so far as leaning up and spitting. But the taste wouldn't leave her. Gods, what could she have eaten to leave that kind of aftertaste in her mouth? She really had to be more careful about noting when those offerings got left out. Yeah, they helped eke out her diet, but if they were out there for a week, they tended to... ferment.
Come to think of it, where the hell was she?
She slowly pulled herself to her feet, having to shake off some prickly seed-pods of some sort which were hanging to her arms and legs. "Ah, man, what happened to my clothes?" She complained, looking down at the tatters she was wearing. "Note to self, whatever I ate, don't eat it again."
It was days like this that Malu was glad she didn't drink, because this was very much like what she imagined a hang-over would be like. Walking on bare feet down a dirt road, she looked around, trying to ignore the pounding in her head and the growling of her belly. Where were the mountains? She'd spent the last two years a couple hundred miles from her childhood home, in the Eastern Air Temple. But this place? She looked over at the sun, which appeared to be setting into the sea. She stood there and watched as it slipped under the mass of clouds, until it was almost gone. Only then did she believe it.
"What am I doing on the west coast?" Malu asked. "And why am I talking to myself?"
She shook her head. It didn't really matter where she was. It just mattered that she got back to doing what she did best; making the Fire Nation regret burning her home down. She wandered, and quickly found lights guiding her path. A town! That was just the thing! She made to pull the hood over her head, but found that only a scrap of it remained. Man, she must have gotten mauled by a platypus-bear last night or something. Ah, well.
She made her way into the sea-side community, and got a good look-around. Quaint place, very rural. They probably had vegetables as well as fish, so she wouldn't have to break her vegetarian habits. As she thought about food, a terrible rumbling shot through her guts. Oooh. Don't think about food. So hungry! Her clothes needed mending far more than she needed a meal, anyway. But she didn't exactly have money, now did she? So she walked up to a door, which looked like it had only been put back up in the last day or so, and gave it a sturdy knocking-on.
The door opened, and a man grew still and pale when he saw her. "Hello!" Malu said brightly, sporting her winningest smile. "You wouldn't happen to have a sewing needle and some thread, would you?"
The man let out a scream of terror and slammed the door shut in her face.
"What's his problem?" she asked, before walking away on thick, rich black dirt, toward some place less xenophobic. Maybe that old lady's house over there? That might do the trick! She smiled to herself as she jaunted over to the door, and the wind parted around her airbending so it didn't blow at her. "Hello? Is anybody home? I'm kind of lost!"
An old woman cracked the door, and looked her up and down. Silence reigned for a moment. "Do you like cats?" the woman demanded.
"Cats are great!" Malu said.
"Good. Then you can come in."
Malu gratefully stepped out of the cold and the dark. As she stood at the threshold, she got an odd feeling, like she hadn't done this in a long time. But she dismissed that thought. She was just grateful to have shelter and food. Especially after whatever happened last night.
Bet y'all didn't see that coming. Truth told, I didn't either when I started chapter one, but when I realized that Tzu Zi worked as a nurturing presence for Nila, I needed somebody to act as a foil. And instead of using her brother (who is suffering from a chronic case of Completely Missing The Point), and unwilling to invent new characters when old would suffice, I decided that Malu could fill that gap swimmingly. Of course, there's still stuff that's going to make her life interesting. And by her life, I mean the whole damned worlds'. And by interesting, I mean... well, you'll see. The very least of that stuff is her mistaken belief that she's the Avatar.
You might have gathered by now that there's something extremely fricken wrong with the Spirit World. If you did, bonus points. If not, well, Wan Shi Tong's having a rough century. There are things in this story which are inadvertant but add to the narrative. I'm trying to keep those sweet mistakes to a minimum, though, and actually have the bits I want planned goodness rather than accidental goodness.
Chief amongst these intentional bits that seem thrown in but aren't: The North. Yup. Things aren't going well up there. And the duel. Zuko actually fought his father when he was thirteen. It ended surprisingly. You'll see how soon enough.
Hopefully the next chapter I write will be easier than the one I just finished. Damn that was rough.
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