Hey guys, I'm back with a new chapter of this. It took a lot longer than I wanted to get this out namely with a slight case of writer's block and some other factors. But it's here now, so let's get on with the show:

"All hail Phoenix Queen Azula, matron of the Empire!" a Fire Sage declared to the council room as the woman in question came walking in. Much had changed with Azula over the past seventy years. What had once been a beautiful and youthful face was now aged and hardened. Her black hair had faded into a dull gray. Despite her age, she walked upright and proud with her arms folded into the sleeves of her robes.

The council, which consisted of her highest ranking officials and Generals, all bowed before her as she came forward. It wasn't unwarranted, either. Not only did the woman before them rule almost all of the known world, she was a force of lethality in her own right despite her age.

"You may dispense with the pleasantries, gentlemen. I want to know what is going on with my Empire," she said, her voice and face clearly showing annoyance at the fact that she had to be bothered with these affairs. Though she was Phoenix Queen, she no longer actually stepped in to rule anymore. She had people for that. However her word was still law, and it overrode anyone else when she saw fit.

"Our forces have pushed east and taken a majority of the continent's eastern coast line. However we have stopped short of some of the port cities," a General reported.

"Excellent. Keep up the pressure, but do not crush them right out. I want those peasants to know that it is I who decides whether they live or die," Azula said.

"There has been some more reports of civil unrest coming from Imperial City," an adviser said. The Phoenix Queen simply waved her hand at this.

"There are always reports of unrest from the city, Adviser Chin. The peasants will calm down once this year's Games Season begins," she dismissed. The look of worry didn't leave the Adviser's face.

"Ordinarily, your highness, I would agree with you. However recent events must be taken into account," he said.

"You refer to the bombing in Libertalia," Azula stated.

"Yes, your grace. It can't be a coincidence that this new wave of unrest has begun at the same time as the largest Imperial slave market was attacked." Azula put her hand to her lips in thought. It was possible that Chin was just overreacting to coincidence. However, one did not reach a position of power such as hers without being paranoid and taking every precaution.

"Monitor the situation in the city closely. Should anything change, I want to know immediately," she ordered.

"By your word, your highness."

The catdeer bounded through the trees, it's paws crushing fallen leaves with light crunches as it went. It paused for a moment, bending it's head down to sniff some mushrooms growing at the base of a tree. A twig snapped, causing it to jerk it's head up and look in the direction of the noise while remaining on point, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Before the catdeer could react, an arrow sailed through the trees and pierced it's side. The animal let out a wounded cry before taking a few steps and collapsing completely.

From the trees came Han, his bow clenched firmly in his left hand as he trotted up to his kill. He was wearing a brown poncho with it's hood up, trying to provide himself with some camouflage while he hunted. The young hunter did his work quickly, ensuring that his prey was dead before dislodging the arrow and setting about the task of skinning the creature and harvesting the meat. Pelts, antlers, and other things could be sold in the next village, or traded for supplies.

Korra appeared at his side, watching the road while he did his work. She was dressed similarly to him, although her clothing was a little more worn and ratty. A water skin rested on her right hip, and a machete was stuck through her belt on the left.

In the two weeks that had passed since they left Libertalia, the two had gotten to know each other. Han had gotten much better at reading lips, and they had developed a sort of pseudo sign language between the two of them should that fail. Despite Korra's best efforts, the young hunter's hearing was still shot.

During their travels north toward Imperial City, Han offered to teach Korra how to use the bow. The young woman declined, however, saying that she was a warrior who preferred a club or a blade. Materials to make bows weren't common in the Water Tribes, so their culture had never really integrated archery unlike the other nations. What the Tribes lacked in range, they more then made up for in the ferocity of their warriors.

According to Korra, it use to be that women were forbidden from taking up warrior positions. However with a threat like the Empire, things had changed. Now everyone was trained to fight so that when the time came, everyone could defend their home. Korra had been trained by her father since an early age, both to wield weapons and bend water.

Personally, Han felt a little better knowing this. Sure, he was an excellent hunter and a master of his bow, but his experience with the world beyond that of the valley where he had grown up was limited. While Korra had about as much experience that he had in dealings outside of her home, she had the advantage in the sense that she had been trained as a warrior.

Finishing with his task, Han gave Korra a single nod of his head and they set off. They didn't speak, but were content with the company the other offered. When you've lost everything, it's comforting to know that there is still someone at your side. As they walked, Han cast a sideways glance at his companion. Despite her tough exterior, she still retained an aura of feminine beauty. She was the embodiment of the term kicking ass and looking good.

Did he find her attractive? Of course. But his attraction didn't go beyond that of the hormonal rumblings that tended to plague a young adult of his age. Sure he'd gotten use to being around her for the past couple of weeks, but there wasn't much there for anything beyond that of a friendship. Besides, he'd seen her eying some of the courtesans when they had passed through the last large town, so he wasn't sure she even found him remotely appealing.

As they came to the top of a small hill, they stopped and took in the view below them. The road led down the hillside to a small, stone walled village. A river wound its way near the village before twisting away like a large snake. Several trees were orange and red in color as their leaves turned with the season.

Entering the village, the duo found that despite its small size, the place was bussling with activity. Farmers moved wagons of their crop or led a few heads of their livestock along with a rope. Merchants shouted out their wares from small tents or a mat that had just been thrown down alongside a wall.

Finding a merchant who was willing to barter was easy enough and Han began the process of trading what he had taken from the catdeer for supplies they needed. While the hunter haggled, Korra stood off to the side, her arms folded as she tapped her fingers impatiently. She didn't like waiting, never had her whole life. Of course, there was much more at risk now.

She was an escaped slave. The Empire didn't look kindly upon escaped slaves. Very few recaptured slaves survived the ordeal unscathed. The punishments were harsh enough that fewer still were recaptured alive, preferring death to the alternative. Korra knew the risks, and knew what was at stake. To her, all of that was worth it if it meant she could find her father. What she was going to do once she did find him, that was still undecided.

A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts. Han was making a few motions with his hands, asking her to step in and speak for him. Apparently, his bartering wasn't going anywhere because the two parties were having a hard time understanding each other. With her meditating, the deal was quickly concluded and they walked away with a decent purse filled with silver.

'Smooth sailing to Imperial City now,' he signed. She smiled in response.

"Hey, you, travellers!" Korra stopped and turned toward the new voice, placing her hand on Han's shoulder in the process. Soldiers, a small four man patrol. All of them lightly armed and armored.

"You need to pay the visitor's tax," the soldier that had spoken up said.

"Visitor's tax?" Korra asked.

"Yes, it's a tax we charge visitors, now pay up." She looked at her companion who looked back at her with a curious expression. Moving her hands, she signed to him what was going on. Upon realizing what was happening, Han blinked before his face fell into a scowl. He shook his head before gesturing toward the gate, indicating that they were leaving.

"We're not paying. We're leaving town," Korra said out loud before they started toward the gate.

"It doesn't matter, you two need to pay," the soldier said. Han looked at him, raising his fist and shaking it up and down a few times in the air before raising his middle finger toward them. Without waiting for any kind of response, he turned on his heel and went after Korra.

The soldiers didn't follow them. The attempted shake down obviously wasn't legal, otherwise they wouldn't have let such an insult against them slide. Not to say that they wouldn't let it slide, they'd just wait to have their vengeance when their superiors weren't watching them.

"Did you really have to provoke them like that?" Korra asked, turning her head so that Han could fully see her face. The archer simply gave her a sheepish smile, one which she didn't return. They have to watch their backs from here until they reached the next village so that the soldiers didn't sneak up on them and leave them gutted along the side of the road.

For as long as she could remember, Asami Sato had always been testing boundaries. Be it pushing her parents to the edge of sanity with her behavior, or the thrill that came with fighting an opponent, she was always testing in some way. Right now, for instance, she was doing both.

In Imperial City, there were two kinds of arenas. One sanctioned by the state, and one that wasn't. The main gladiator arena was set up along the coast line. It was well funded, well maintained, drew in fighters and spectators from all over the Empire, and was relatively safe assuming you weren't fighting. In the Arena, even if you lost there was still a chance you could walk away with your life. Then there was underground fighting, of which there were a few rings hidden around the city. While technically illegal, the local law enforcement didn't put much effort into shutting them down. Once you set foot in the building, you were taking your life into your own hands. The spectators were routy and bloodthirsty enough that they were likely to knife each other over the slightest provocation. Then there was the ring itself. Once two fighters set foot inside, the match wasn't over until one or both of them lay either immobile or dead, period.

It was the later of these two entertainment centers that Asami often found herself sneaking into. At first, it had just been to satisfy a curiosity. But then, she'd discovered that she had a natural talent at fighting, and she often found herself entering a few low level matches just to see how far she could push herself. The ring was a far better teacher than any sort of instructor.

Throwing her fist forward, Asami watched and felt as it slammed into the jaw of her opponent, a young woman just a year or so older than her. The young woman reeled back from the blow, a spray of blood and a tooth flying from her open mouth. She fell to the floor of the ring, and Asami stood over her with her fists at the ready. A weak attempt was made by the fighter to get back to her feet, but her strength gave out and she passed out face down in the ring.

"Your winner!" the referee declared, grabbing Asami's hand and holding it aloft. People yelled in both delight and disappointment as money was passed back and forth. Asami remained silent. She wasn't in it for the winning purse, or the roar of the crowd, she was here to test herself. If she could best some of the nastiest fighters the Imperial City underground had to offer, she could do anything.

Leaving the ring, Asami made her way back to the room that was designated as the woman's changing room. To call it a locker room, or even a bathroom would have been an honor it didn't deserve. It was dirty, covered with grime and other bits of matter she didn't even want to know about. A single mirror, the only one in the room, was cracked like someone had punched it in frustration, or slammed a head against it in a fight. The sink it hung over was covered with rust and grime, and didn't even work.

She looked at her reflection in the cracked glass and frowned. There was a bruise and a few cuts on her face. An extra layer of makeup would have to be applied in the morning in order to keep her father from noticing. With a sigh, she began to change out of her fighting clothes and into her regular ones.

It wasn't easy maintaining this double life. By day, she was the heiress to one of the most powerful and influential companies in the Empire, and thus was expected to act as such. She was to be prim and proper, an example of wealth and nobility for all those in lower social classes to look up to. The problem was, none of that was Asami.

She loved to tinker, to take things apart in order to find out just what made a thing work before putting it back together again. She loved to push her boundaries, to find out just what exactly she was capable of before trying to expand them even further. And, she loved the thrill and rush that came with danger. If she wasn't doing an underground fight, she was joyriding in one of her father's delivery vehicles or something else of equal risk and danger.

With another sigh, Asami left the underground ring and began the trip back to her day life, silently hopeful that something would change and offer her a way out of the vicious cycle of whiplash that her life had become.

Tonraq stood behind the iron bars of the gate that sat at the entrance to the Arena, watching the match that was currently taking place with a somewhat morbid curiosity. Ever since he had been brought here to Imperial City, he'd heard stories amongst his fellow prisoners of a fighter clad in gray metal armor who bought death to all that they faced. Now he watched, as said fighter took on two others in a battle to the death.

"That's the Iron Maiden," came a voice to his left. Tonraq looked to the source of the voice and found a young man standing beside him. He was well built, with black hair and pale green eyes. But he was young, much to young to be in this Arena, at least according to Tonraq's beliefs anyway. He appeared to be about fifteen or sixteen, just a little younger than his daughter.

"That's a woman?" he asked, both surprised and impressed. From this distance, the armor made it impossible to tell what gender the wearer was.

"She's the only fighter in the Arena to be undefeated," the young man said with a nod, wincing as the fighter in the ring snapped a cable from her armor like a whip. She snagged one of her opponents around the neck with it before dragging him in and impaling him with a blade extended from her free arm.

"Quite the fighter," Tonraq noted as she freed her blade from her opponent and let him fall into the sand. The crowd was roaring with approval, eagerly awaiting more.

"She use to be the leader of a rebel group. But the Empire threw her in here for execution, and she's staved off death each time," the young man said, watching as the Iron Maiden turned to face her final opponent, snapping her cable as she waited for him to make a move.

"What's your name?" Tonraq asked, sparing a glance toward the boy before returning his attention to the fight. He needed to have an idea of her fighting style, should he wind up having to face her.

"Bolin."

"Aren't you a little young to be in here, Bolin?" he asked. In the Arena, the fighter raised his shield before balancing his sword against the edge of it, his eyes never leaving his opponent. The Iron Maiden suddenly bounded forward, snapping her cable and catching his shield. With a yank, she had torn it free from his grasp.

"There is no age limit for benders," Bolin replied glumly as the woman parried a sword swing from her opponent, knocking him off balance. Before he could recover, she reversed her arm and swung a wide arc, removing his head from his shoulders and sending it flying across the Arena. The crowd went wild as the now decapitated body fell into the sand, leaving the armored figure as the last person standing.

"You're from one of the Water Tribes right?" Bolin asked.

"Yes. And it's a place I intend to return to when I am free of this place," Tonraq answered.

"There is no freedom from this place. There is only death in the Arena," Bolin said solemnly.

"Surely there is a way to earn one's freedom from this place."

"The only way to freedom is beyond the Iron Maiden. And all paths end with her," he said. They both watched as the figure made it's way over the severed head and stabbed it with her blade before holding it aloft for all the crowd to see. Tonraq steeled his resolve at that sight. If the only way to breathe free, to see his daughter again was to go through this fighter before him, he would kill her a hundred times over to do it.

By the spirits and the gods, he would be free again.

And cut. Not much overall, but a lot of character introduction, which is important. Remember to review and PM, ask questions, or just state what you liked or didn't like about it. And with that, I'll see you all next time.