Ozai stood at the stern of the ship and gazed toward the vacant horizon, watching the current rippling behind as the vessel cut through the water. The driving rain had finally diminished to a fine mist, but the powerful winds remained, whipping his ebony hair wildly about his face. By his calculations, they should arrive at their destination in five days if the winds blew steady, and he knew it would linger for a few days longer. The dying storm would prove to his advantage. It would give him just the edge he needed to get out of range of any pursuers. Still, he was not taking any chances. Once they made it up and around the northwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom toward the Ruins of Taku he could let his guard down slightly, but until then he would continue to keep a watchful eye out for anyone who might be following them. From there, they would more or less blend in. Many fishing villages and ports lined the channel that ran through the center of the Earth Kingdom, alongside the massive forest that spanned the length of that channel from well before the Ruins of Taku to the village of Gaipan. A fishing vessel would be the least conspicuous guise possible.
An age-old rumor had long been told of an ancient book that had been buried somewhere deep within that forest centuries ago. It was written by a corrupted sage who had coveted the Avatar's power. He had allegedly devoted his life's work to unraveling the intricate web of the cosmos and how the Avatar was linked to it. If he could find a tear in the order of the cosmos, a loophole in the earth's balance that allowed him to manipulate the Avatar's energy, perhaps he could strip it from the Avatar and take it for himself. Legend had it that the sage had buried the book to hide it from distrusting eyes when he was suspected of disloyalty. But shortly thereafter, he was mysteriously murdered and the book, which was considered by most to be the ravings of a power-hungry lunatic, was never found.
But Ozai knew better. He had taken a strong interest in the sage's history as a young man while attending the Fire Nation Royal Academy. What he learned had greatly intrigued him. The book had been written in an archaic language, which had long since died out, in an attempt to encrypt his work. It was no longer taught in schools, but Ozai had coincidentally been studying the language in his personal time, having been drawn to its strangely beautiful sound and exotic script. He knew it was his destiny to uncover this artifact, he could see that now. With the knowledge it contained, he would be virtually unstoppable, finally able to finish what he started two years ago as Phoenix King.
The sky had brightened considerably since the worst of the storm had passed but it was still covered by a thick, seemingly endless blanket of smoky-white clouds. He could not see the sun, but he knew the day was progressing well into late morning. The girl would need food and water before too long if she was to be of any use to him.
Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw Jiao wrestling with the sailing lines and appearing to be having a difficult time. "Imbecile," he muttered under his breath, scowling as he turned his attention toward the hatch that led below deck. He had no desire to bother with Jiao at the moment; he would just have to do it himself.
.:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:. .:.
Shadows quivered on the walls as the solitary lantern in the room flickered and sputtered. Katara groaned and rolled on her side slightly before the throbbing ache forced her to stop. Her entire body felt sore and stiff from spending the night in a shallow sleep in an odd, twisted position on the hard wooden floor. Her hands were still bound behind her back and the joints in her shoulders screamed out their protest, throbbing with a stiff, dull pain. She did not need to see her face to know that her eyes were swollen and puffy from crying herself to sleep.
After a great deal of effort, she finally managed to raise herself delicately to a seated position, resting her head back against the wall as she recovered from the exertion. A small beam of white-grey light shone in through a crack in the top of the opposing wall and cast a pale crescent moon on the wall above her head, the only visible evidence that morning had indeed come.
Katara looked around the room, finally taking in her surroundings more closely. The air felt stuffy and stagnant and smelled strongly of fish. It was a small room, mostly sparse with a few tools and knick-knacks strewn haphazardly about. Two stone storage jars, one large and one small, sat near the corner; the large one was standing upright while the other had fallen on its side and rocked gently with the swaying of the ship. An intricate design appeared to have been carved into them, but the surface had long since been eroded; algae and limestone had crept over the stone exterior, obscuring the once-beautiful handiwork. An old weathered net was hanging erratically from the wall next to her, as though thrown carelessly onto the nails which held it. She recognized it as the type fishermen often use in the Fire Nation. No wonder the ship smells like fish, she thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly by the sound of purposeful footsteps outside her door and a key turning in the lock. The door opened with a groan, the towering figure of Ozai emerging in its void. He appeared to study her with a cold concentration before stepping contemptuously into the room.
"Sleep well?" he asked, a sardonic sneer splayed across his lips.
Her icy sapphire glare pierced into him as he approached where she sat. Katara shifted slightly as he drew near but held her position; the last thing she wanted to do was make herself look weak or frightened.
"Here," he said somewhat petulantly, holding out a chunk of bread and a goblet of water and setting them on the floor before her. She shot daggers at him and turned her head away in refusal. He may have the upper hand, but she was not going to make it easy for him. Ozai's lip quivered in vexation but he fought back the urge to retaliate against her indignation for the moment. "You need to eat." It was more of a command than a suggestion.
Katara could not mask her confusion as she turned back to him and cast him a distrusting glance. "Why bother feeding me if you're just going to kill me?"
"Kill you?" he chuckled derisively. "Believe me, if I'd intended to kill you, I would have spared myself the trouble of dragging you aboard this ship."
"Then please let me go, you have no use for me."
A devious smirk turned up the corners of his mouth in a way that sent shivers up her spine. "I never said I had no use for you."
A hint of panic flashed across her face as her brows quaked with apprehension. "What do you need me for? If there's something you want, just name it and perhaps the Avatar will make a deal with you."
"Really?" he drawled. "In return for the freedom of the woman who betrayed him?"
Katara's heart froze. How did he know about that? It made her wonder what else he knew about her. She suddenly felt painfully bare and vulnerable before him, drawing her knees in toward her slightly as though to hide herself.
"I rather doubt it." Ozai grinned, reveling in the girl's marked uneasiness before he continued. "And it's quite unlikely that the Avatar would take kindly to my terms, so there's no sense in my negotiating anything. The Avatar will give me what I want in due time, I will make certain of that. And as long as you cooperate and do as I say, no harm will come to you. Defy me, and I will make you truly sorry." He hesitated to let his words sink in. "Is that understood?"
"What are you planning?" she stammered. "You're not going to hurt Aang are you?"
"That's none of your concern," he said with a stern finality. "Now eat up. You'll need the energy." And with that he turned and exited the room, locking the door securely behind him.
A/N: Thank to you all who have reviewed so far! I really appreciate any and all feedback, positive or negative, so please don't be shy :)
Until next time… flameo, Sifu Hotman!