Chapter 7 – Silk

By Azula's machinations, in three days the entire fleet was assembled and entering the waterspace of the city of Gao Ling through the long bay. Traffic had already been interrupted and it was a matter of less than an hour before the city would become aware of its own imminent destruction. Zuko, on his own ship following after the mighty, peerless fleet of Zhao, stared absentmindedly at the quiet outskirts, green and well managed, which had not one defensive structure developed despite its relative proximity to the enemy state. Zhao's fleet had come fully prepared for a complete invasion, not merely a quick raid, and he knew the man was itching to gain another accomplishment on his military career's belt. In the past decade they hadn't had a large operation since the siege of Ba Sing Se. His uncle looked worried, and he felt a degree of his pain. The last display of violence cost him his son; the event prompted him to undergo a rapid personality shift into the pacifistic lazy tea-lover he was mocked as. Now, despite being retired, he was in such a situation again because of Zuko, though his uncle would never say so.

With events locked in motion it was already out of Zuko's hands to have stopped anything. He didn't trust Zhao, and certainly didn't trust Azula. He remembered the pain of his last great mistake, forever branded onto his face, and wondered what injury this one would cost him. With the same trepidation he'd had going into that Agni Kai so he felt at present.

Zuko left briefly, while he still had a moment to spare for his own foibles, and went to the hold to visit the air bison. He left his helmet and armor—which terrified the animal—in the corridor and threw on the grey tunic before entering. The salve had been applied by his own hand just a few hours ago and would last until morning. His health was improving, but he wondered what was the point of having gone through the trouble of capturing the animal after all. His original inkling of a ploy involving it had been swallowed by Azula, and now it served no purpose except to place the already wounded and traumatized beast under additional burden, trapped in a metal box that was about to enter battle. It had begun to trust him, as he was the only one able to brave the threat of its horns to apply the medicine it had come to long for. Soon it would be well again, though its fur would always be marred with the craters of scartissue that prevented fur regrowth. If it ever found its way back to its true owner, that airbender would come to see what its terms of treatment had been like under care of the Fire Nation, and he felt a tinge of shame. It, of course, had no understanding of the circumstances that had caused its injuries, nor that Zuko was solely responsible for them.

The saddle had been left aside and not moved since taking the animal aboard. Curious, he went to look it over. It was heavy, sturdy, and elaborate. The craftsman put painstaking care into its creation, and for the thickness of the leather it must have been a struggle to push the needle through each stitch of the seams. The handholds, as cut-outs in the sides, were thoughtful to the comfort of the riders, and he could imagine how it must be to travel in such a fashion. It was large enough to seat six or so people comfortably. As Zuko was toying with it, the bison showed interest. He wondered if he wanted it on. Dragging it over and finding he was just able to lift it well enough for the bison to assist him in shrugging it over his back, he made adjustments and figured out how the fashionings worked. It was a more pleasant subject to occupy his mind than the imminent battle, and the bison seemed to enjoy having it back on, perhaps because it was reminiscent of the owner and its previous life. He finished securing the straps into their brass fastenings. Testing it, he stepped up and balanced on the saddle-encased back of the air bison, finding it a further distance to the ground than seating on the komodo rhino, but wide and stable.

He entertained setting the air bison free like that, sparing it the hardship of enduring the battle, but there was no easy way to effect it even if he wanted. He'd have to shuffle the bison past the rhinos, no easy task, and would bring a battle to his own hold between them. There was a screen made of canvas and bamboo framing thrown up between the two groups, and the bison, though he could smell and hear the rhinos, felt secure enough to relax only because he could not see them. If he wasn't already considered a traitor, freeing the pet of the Avatar for no necessity would put more blade to his neck than Azula could save him from. Seated on the saddle, he listened and waited, thinking their motion had stopped at last, which meant they were lined up outside the city's port and battle would begin in just a few minutes.

A blue ribbon caught his eye, snagged in the far corner of the saddle.

#

Katara woke up in the rented room with the lemur asleep on her belly, looked to the table she'd set the vase on, and saw a pile of dropped petals already littering the wood. The flowers had shed wilting more quickly than she'd thought possible. Thinking it might be a sign they should leave soon, while the two boys slept she went through their belongings and tidied them together.

By the time she was washed and preparing for the day, seated at the table with breakfast of leftover steamed buns, egg custard, and fruit, Aang and her brother were just making motions to crawl out of their beds. Sokka muttered something at her that wasn't coherent, grabbed a banana, and took it into the bathroom with him. Momo, his ears perking up, flew from the table to greet Aang, lapped around his shoulders, and, with his tail over the boy's lip, evoked a sneeze from him. Startled, the lemur raced back to its previous seat next to her, then remembered his own pile of half-eaten fruit bits and continued his meal.

Eventually Sokka emerged from the bathroom, the banana peel mysteriously vanished, and dragged zombie-like to the table, allowing Aang a chance at the washroom. No sooner had the door closed than he gave a yell, something loud smashed and something else thumped hard against the floor, and Aang exclaimed language she hadn't thought he knew. Sokka looked towards the scene, swallowed hard a mouthful of bun with his eyes wide, choked, then stole her cup of tea to save himself. When Aang emerged he was red-faced, furious, and gripping the smushed remains of the banana peel. He glared at each of them in turn while holding it up—Katara, the lemur, and Sokka—and all three kept their eyes to the table. He then hurled it out the window in what looked like an airbending-boosted toss.

"You're both slobs," she said. "Momo and I are going to the gardens this morning. After that, I think it's best we leave after lunch.

"Lunch is good," agreed Sokka.

"You and Aang should go and buy provisions before that."

"Ooh, ooh, can we get char siu for lunch?"

"I want noodles," said Aang.

"We can find a restaurant everyone will like." Taking up Momo, who was still clutching a fruit in each paw, she left the inn with the lemur draped over her shoulder. The streets were already beginning to feel as familiar as home to her, a sensation she didn't enjoy encountering at every city she passed, and to soothe her restlessness she found the tea-shop that had seating on a patio overlooking the public garden. At a table with Momo crouching in the other seat, she ordered and tried to relax from thinking over dozens of potential problems. The small pond was empty of turtleducks at the moment, though children were crouched at the bank looking for them. Tea in hand, she fell into a kind of thoughtless meditation with the porcelain hot on her palm. Momo became restless. She looked over to the lemur, realized her tea was of temperature to drink, and sipped, already having forgotten what type she'd ordered. The other customers were engaged in conversations of their own.

In one of the towers near the city gates, a gong beat out a brassy ring in frantic pace. The other three watchtowers took up the signal and the whole city, immersed in the bone-chilling sound, froze. A teacup somewhere fell and shattered against the paving stones.

People began running. When she didn't move, a waitress, who was herself busy leaving the store, stopped to shake her shoulder, shouting over the sound, "Raid!" In the next instant Momo leapt onto her shoulder and she raced back towards the inn, not knowing if the boys had left yet and hoping they would rendezvous there if they had.

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid, she thought. We should have left days ago. It's that prince again, and whatever happens to Gao Ling is going to be our fault for drawing him here.

She ran down the sidestreet leading to their accomodation, bounded up the steps, and threw open the door. "Aang, Sokka!"

They weren't there. She looked to the lemur, took him in her hand, and lifted him up like one does to a ladybug they want to send off from their fingertip. "Up, Momo. Find them." Obligingly the animal took off, circled to the top of the inn's roof, and did a pass through the air over the building. She watched his face, eager to see if he spotted them. In one direction he trilled, hovered momentarily, then circled up another loop before dropping back to her. Aang came around the corner a minute later.

"Katara, we were going out to find you, then spotted Momo. What's going on?" He was shouting over the gongs, the noise of which had been constant and heart-racing since she'd left the teashop, but in his next step they halted simultaneously. The silence was worse than the noise. At that moment Sokka came around the bend and the three met.

"What's happening?"

"A raid. It's the Fire Nation," said Sokka. "Grab our stuff, we're leaving."

Aang argued, "We should help."

"No, we shouldn't. The Earth Kingdom can defend itself." He looked to his sister and said, "It's probably that prince again, isn't it? Staying here will only invite their wrath. We're already on the far side of the city from the port where the ships were sighted. Let's evacuate through the northern gate with the other civilians and get out of here. He won't stick around if we aren't present."

"Wait, what do you mean 'ships?' He only had one."

"Well, he found more. We should—" At that moment a stunning explosion rang out, ear-splitting even from their position a mile from the port.

Katara dropped to her knees with her hands pressed over her ears. In a few moments she eased to standing again when there had been no followup. "Is that the Fire Nation, or the counterattack?"

"Let's go, now. Aang, no! You'll only make things worse," said Sokka as he grabbed the boy mid-stride and pulled him back. "Someone said there are three dozen ships. Gao Ling doesn't have a navy, and one airbender is not going to help them now. They have no choice but to surrender. We need to go."

"But Sokka, we can't just—"

"We can and we are. My job is to get you to my father. I've seen those ships before. If there were three you would be outmatched, and there's over thirty. Let's get a step ahead and get out of here."

"Katara?" he pleaded.

"Sokka is right. One airbender and one waterbender don't make up for an entire army."

Five minutes later they had their bags and were pressed in the crowd of civilians wading through the north gate, where the road led into the mountains offering safety. As they climbed the hills with the other evacuees they came to a vantage point at the next switchback offering a full view of the port from between treecover. The port and southern edge of Gao Ling were in flames. Artillery from the ships bypassed the line of defence and carved out craters through the city, sending conflagration to the furthest stretch of the walls. The ships were being countered by whatever earthbenders they could draft from the school and residents on short notice, but were almost perfectly undamaged, except for one. At the very back the smallest ship was an inferno, its hull ripped apart by what must have been that exceptional blast, and it was taking on water rapidly. Sokka stopped to squint at it. Heavy black smoke expanded across the water. Its fuel reserves fed a pool of fire around it.

"Did earthbenders do that?"

"I'm not sure, but I don't see how they could have. It's the furthest one from the shore. Look, it's the same ship from the South Pole," replied Sokka in a disturbed voice. "If that prince was onboard, there's no way he survived."

As they watched, it began listing further and further. The flames were hot enough that the metal was becoming unstable at the joins. In another minute a large sheet from the hull, especially damaged, tore away completely and floated on the choppy water independently another moment before slipping down on its side and sinking under the waves.

The other vessels were casting volleys into the line of earthbenders of great smashing weights of incindiary material encased in flames. As they hit the surface, they blasted apart the ground into fragments of rock, metallic shards, and a substance that continued burning even as crashing waves from the bay washed over it. The earthbenders, gathering behind walls of stone forming shielded groups, returned with stabbing juts of rock. The hulls of the newer ships were harder to puncture and needed several exact hits to the same spot to breech. The earthbenders had no hope of winning. Sokka guessed that they would surrender as soon as the evacuation was complete.

Moving with the refugee group, they continued into the mountains until reaching a fork. Most continued north, where Sokka said the Earth Kingdom probably had shelters hidden in the mountains, but the trio headed east with only a few others choosing that path, which would take them far across the long strip of valley held between the ranges to the north and south. Even with Gao Ling out of sight, the black smoke continued to pollute the sky. Late morning turned, in the span of an hour, to the dusk of a night threatening storms. The other evacuees went off on their own ways, one by one, until the trio continued alone into the darkened prairie.

#

The blue ribbon draped like silk over his fingertips. In the center was a carved medallion of white stone in a Water Tribe design. He remembered the waterbender, tied and kneeling on the stone ground at the air temple, this necklace shining from under the parka she wore, glistening in the light of the fire at his palm. She had been equal parts defiant, terrified, and despairing. Zuko wondered if she'd seen firsthand what firebenders did to waterbenders.

He secured it at an internal pocket, not knowing, for the time being, what to do with it and feeling pressure of the imminent battle, which didn't allow for thought of beautiful things. The first assault began at that moment. The water under the ship rocked from the force generated as the other ships, all equipped with better weapons than his, began hurling their munitions onto the city. That waterbender and her friends were probably somewhere inside Gao Ling at that moment. She had bravely tried to stop his small, poorly outfitted ship and failed miserably; there was a chance she had learned her lesson and would flee, but he wasn't certain if she would, or could, if she wasn't already dead upon the initial blasts. Heavy sounds of the ongoing cannonade echoed through the ship. The bison swayed under him but had nowhere to run. Zuko dismounted and went to his face, rubbing his muzzle reassuringly, though that, too, was just another wordless lie.

A loud, overwhelming sensation ripped through the air. Pressure, light, heat, and sound were immediate. It was the same sensation as at the Agni Kai, the flesh of his cheek and ear rendering, the intense pressure and heat which he had thought was a result of his eye imploding, the imbalance and deafness from the loud pop at his eardrum. Zuko was thrown to the ground, sure that it was somehow happening again.

The structure of the ship ripped apart. He was thrown hard by a wall of airpressure against solid metal, the ground's angle tilted, and a torrent swept him several yards into the fusion of the bay and the ship's hold, between which there was no longer distinction. Shrapnel and cinders gouged into the surface of the bay, then he was underwater, heavy, swallowing it with the taste of salt and petrol, and tumbling without direction. He surfaced into an oven and the smoke burned through his throat and nostrils. Unable to see far through the tumultuous smog, he was confronted by a mixture of thick black plumes of smoke and snarls of fire wrapping into a dervish. Iron rended. The surface of the water was broken by a mass of heavy things intermixed in motion. Fragments of the ship, the struggling komodo rhinos, his own thrashing, cargo adrift, continued waves of pressure from the ongoing assault, and gurgling spurts of the fuel intermixed through his surroundings.

He jolted back, thinking he was drowning, but it was the ship tilted at an angle—the waterbender's assault—Azula's unseen provocation—Zhao's fleet… The fuel caught. Something large swam underneath him. The inferno, a giant firesource far beyond his control, overwhelmed the sky. Opening his lips for a breath brought a mix of blood and petrol. Something pushed under his legs. Eyes burning, ears ringing, he fell backwards and something erupted underneath him. A flat surface spread under his back.

When he came to he was lying on thick grass matted in a pool of baywater tainted with fuel. Oily swirls floated in the mud irridescent with colors like opal. It was early dawn. 'Firebenders rise with the sun.'

Everything hurt to move. After ten minutes of fighting the exhaustion to stay awake, he lifted a hand with difficulty to check his face, noting the number of scrapes, burns, and lacerations, and his head, tender, and neck, strained. Something large moved nearby. Turning to the side, he saw the air bison stirring nearby.

The heavy pull of sleep weighed atop him. Zuko fought it. In twenty minutes, he strugged to sit up. His body was a mass of injuries and aches. When he looked to the bison, he saw it was in no better condition than he. The bay was out of sight.

"Azula always lies."