wake me when it's over
2 years earlier
The room was stale and dusty - thick with the stench of mildew and foxing paper. There were scrolls of all shapes and sizes stacked around on tilted shelves. Some were partly open, others firmly shut. The shelves themselves were worn down, sagging from the many years of neglect.
"Commander Zhao."
He shifted the scroll in his hand, moving it closer to the flicker of the candle flames on the desk. The ink of the writing was dull and hardly readable, but Zhao was able to pick out certain words or phrases. "What?"
The soldier stood at attention at the door, making it a point to avoid looking directly at the commander. "We're not sure how much longer the spirit can be sated. It's recommended that we finish and leave."
Zhao was quiet, stewing over the words calmly. He placed the scroll down and picked up another one. It was one of the older ones, tattered at the edges and coated in such a thick layer of dust it was almost greasy.
When he opened it, an array of blotchy logograms was exposed to him; practically unreadable except for certain words - 'Juman no hajimari' (beginning of time) 'Zandaka' (balance) 'Konton' (chaos) - things he only had a sliver of care for.
In the middle, there was an illustration - vividly contrasting the rest of the parchment. It was some kind of spirit.
Black tendrils drooped off its body with angry red markings littering its front.
It had a vague impression of an eye in the center- diamond in shape - staring at him through the paper without actually looking.
"Sir?"
Zhao almost wanted to growl, but instead simply gruffed out a simple order while not taking his eyes off the scroll. "Gather the crew in the west wing of the library. I'll be out in a moment."
"Yes, Commander." The soldier hesitated, then saluted and marched off.
After about a minute, Zhao shifted in the seat and stood up, bringing the dark scroll with him. It didn't seem like much use to the war effort, but his interests peaked. He kept examining it while vaguely looking through the other scrolls. He pulled out a silver one with blue accents. The water tribe emblem coating the side of it.
Zhao hummed and opened it. Two large koi fish, one black and one white circled the front of it. The spirits Tui and La - push and pull - ocean and moon.
The commander smiled.
'Promising.'
He took it and put it in the large canvas bag filled with other invaluable information. When he gathered everything he needed, he called the two guards from outside to take the large bag before making his way to the west wing.
His crew straightened at the sight of him.
"Where's Wan Shi Tong?" Zhao asked.
"Still in the upper levels sir."
"Good." He examined the large room; filled to the brim with fire nation history and secrets. His face was stoic, almost bored as he clasped his hands together behind his back.
"Burn everything." He turned to make his leave. "Leave nothing standing."
"Yes sir."
War
chapter 6
Danny spent the better part of his evening with Tonari, and against his previous hesitance, it wasn't such a bad evening.
Tonari was… nice.
Nicer than most adults in his life anyways. She was soft-spoken - gentle yet stern in her old age.
After parting ways with Aang and Katara in search of Katara's brother, the woman led him through busy hallways and into a small room. There were pillows in abundance - scattered across almost the entire surface of the floor. Crystal-clear water rippled in a small pool in the very center of the room.
There were other people too, wounded men being treated by other women dressed in the same fashion as Tonari. Each woman was taking water out of the center pool with nothing but the simple movements of their arms.
They'd make the water hover over whatever grievous injury a soldier had before doing a strange roll with their wrists that would make the water glow.
Part of him felt anxious and skeptical but the other part of him was intrigued and almost excited.
They made their way to an empty pillow where Tonari took his blanket and had him sit down. She unraveled his bandages, revealing the gnarly, day-old injury as well as the old scars that accompanied it.
Having the profession he did, the hero had many scars - electrical, burn, laceration, you name it. And surprisingly, Tonari didn't ask about it.
He had cocked his head at her nonchalant attitude and shrugged off the glances from the other occupants in the room. It wasn't like anyone there was going to go to Amity Park and spill the beans that puny little Fenton had more battle scars than a war veteran.
But still, the old woman was taking his appearance rather well, even for someone who had most likely already seen them (having probably been the one to change his clothes while passed out.) She hadn't even asked how he got the wound she was currently about to take care of.
Instead, she silently began moving her arms, bending them and curling her fingers in a way that reminded Danny of the tai chi class he had occasionally gotten dragged to with his sister to get him to relax when things would get too much.
The water from the center of the room slithered up to her and then toward him.
He unconsciously leaned back.
As it came into contact with his wound, it stung and he hissed, but it was quickly numbed, and wow. Danny wasn't aware of just how tense he'd been or how much his shoulder had been hurting until the cool liquid began to glow.
He groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back on his hands as the liquid seemed to caress his skin, massaging his muscles and lifting the stiff pain.
Where was this after his fight with Pariah? Undergrowth? Freakshow? Everyone?
He wouldn't have half of the problems he had now if he could get this afterward.
"Enjoying yourself?" Tonari asked, her voice filled with mirth.
Danny smiled and opened his eyes to look up at her.
"Yeah." He breathed.
Tonari lightly chuckled and he smiled wider.
"I'm telling you Katara, I saw him in my dream last night." Aang beamed. "Maybe the spirits are telling us something!"
"Didn't you say the guy from your dream had white hair? I think it's obvious that Danny's hair is black."
"Well.. yeah -" Aang's lips pursed. "But! ~ He has the same face!"
"... you do realize how crazy that sounds right?"
The monk deadpanned. "Katara, when have things ever not sounded crazy?"
She made a non-committable noise as they both turned another corner. She was fiddling with her new spirit oasis necklace as they walked. "I guess I can't argue with that."
Aang gasped, a little gust of wind rolling around him in his excitement. "We should ask him to go with us to the Earth Kingdom!"
Katara stopped abruptly, face pinching. "Aang you only just met him, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not? You're the one who always says I should trust in the spirits."
"In spirits! Not random dreams that could just be coincidences." She sighed, fingers pinching her nose and body slouching slightly. "Just - we can talk about it later. Let's just look for Sokka, Okay?"
Aang twirled around his staff with a frown. "Yeah, okay."
They continued forward towards one of the many palace balconies.
It was about 20 minutes later that they finally found Sokka sitting on a thick railing on one of the many palace balconies. He was slouched; one leg bent up while the other dangled off the edge precariously. His hair was uncharacteristically unkempt and falling out of its wolf tail.
Aang felt the sudden urge to turn around and walk right back into the palace.
Seeing Sokka was a harsh reminder of the trials of the past few days; days of which Aang had been trying to - well, not forget. But he didn't want to think too hard on it.
"Sokka?"
He didn't respond right away- only giving a subtle tilt of his head. "...what?"
"How are you doing?" Kataras' voice had taken a soft tone.
Sokka eyes closed and his face scrunched. He huffed out an "I'm fine."
Both Aang and Katara shared a look.
"... You know it's.." She started. "..ok to not be ok. We're here for you."
Sokka scoffed and made to move off the railing. He still hadn't looked at either of them directly. "Whatever. I know." He crossed his arms. "What's the plan?"
"Erm.. the-the plan is to head to the Earth kingdom. Master Pakku said Katara can teach me the rest of what I need to know."
"Great. We leave in the morning?"
"Yes."
"Cool." He turned to walk away, gesturing his goodbye with a wave of his hand. "See you two tomorrow at dawn."
Even when Sokka was gone, the depressive air lingered. Aang wasn't much for talking after that, Katara seemed to feel the same way. Her face as she watched her brother turn the corner was sad.
The monk sighed. "Goodnight Katara."
She smiled mildly. "Goodnight Aang."
"I lived ten thousand lifetimes before the first of your kind crawled out of the mud. It was I who broke through the divide that separated the plane of spirits from the material world. To hate me is to give me breath. To fight me is to give me strength. Now prepare to face oblivion!"