After a restless - mostly sleepless - night, Kima was roused to the haunting wind chimes signaling the start of the day. She felt hollow, like a hole was festering and growing inside her, threatening to swallow her whole.

She sat there, absentmindedly observing the other women getting up, stretching, murmuring. She saw them without really seeing them. She felt like she was on autopilot, simply going through the motions.

Is that what they want? To just break us to the point where we'd be so apathetic to our situation?

During the prayer she hardly listened to the words recited by the nun, who's airy and cheerful tone did nothing to quell the nauseous feeling she had. At breakfast, Sena noticed her demeanor and questioned her about it. "Are you feeling okay? You haven't eaten yet." She looked down at the food, the sick feeling growing more.

"Um, yeah I'm alright. I just didn't sleep much last night."

Sena nodded and pushed her own food around. "You know, the conversation we had last night. It got me thinking." Kima glanced at her, waiting for her to continue. "I know why we're here isn't for anything good. We all know it. No matter what they say or how they try to make it seem, they're pretty much just keeping us as...I don't know the word."

"Breeders. Livestock. Whichever one, I refuse to accept it." Kima pushed her bowl away and folded her arms defiantly. "I know it's extremely hard, but there's no way it's impossible to get off this mountain." Sena looked at her with a mix of curiosity and fear. "Kima, what are you saying? You can't be thinking of... escaping, are you?"

Kima glanced around the dining hall, her voice lowering to a whisper. "What else am I supposed to do? Sit here and wait until they force me into their plan? No. I can't just give up. There has to be a way out of this."

Sena's face paled. "Even if you could figure out how to leave, they'd come after you. You know that, right? The Sentinels don't let anyone go."

Kima's stomach churned, but her resolve hardened. "Then I'll just have to make sure they can't find me."

The rest of the meal passed in tense silence. Kima's mind raced as she considered the possibilities. She had no idea how she'd escape or where she'd go, but she knew she couldn't stay here.

The opportunity to think came later that day, when, following the study period, a small group of the women decided to take up cleaning the dormitories. Kima worked alongside Sena and a few others, sweeping and tidying the large shared spaces. As the afternoon wore on, the others began to pair off or leave for other tasks, until finally, Kima found herself alone.

She sat down on the edge of her cot, her hands trembling as she clenched the edge of the thin mattress. The room was eerily quiet, the faint sound of wind rushing past the windows the only noise.

Her mind turned over the limited knowledge she had of the temple's layout. She'd seen the main halls and a few smaller corridors, but much of the mountain remained a mystery. She thought about the nuns and Sentinels, how they always seemed to know where everyone was at any given time. The bison were another challenge entirely—there was no way she could steal one and expect to go unnoticed.

But she didn't need a perfect plan right now. She just needed a start.

Her gaze fell on the small window high on the dormitory wall. It was narrow and barred, but it let in just enough light to give her a glimmer of hope. If she could find a way to reach it—or another opening like it—maybe she could climb down the mountainside.

She shook her head, trying to focus. No. That was too risky. The mountain was treacherous, and she didn't have the tools or strength to scale it. She needed a way to get off the mountain without alerting anyone.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall. Quickly, she grabbed her broom and began sweeping again, her heart pounding in her chest.

A nun entered the room, her serene expression giving no indication that she suspected anything. "Kima, it's time for evening prayers," she said gently.

Kima nodded, keeping her head low. "I'll be right there."

As the nun left, Kima exhaled slowly. She had to keep her thoughts hidden, her intentions buried deep. For now, she would bide her time, gather information, and wait for the right moment.

She whispered to herself, "I'm not staying here. No matter what, I'm getting out of this place."

The evening prayer session was a blur for Kima. The soft, melodic chanting of the nuns and the murmured responses of the other women felt like distant noise. Her mind was elsewhere, consumed by the threads of an escape plan that still seemed more like a desperate dream than a tangible possibility.

She kept her eyes down, her lips moving in feigned participation as she stole glances at the room. The prayer hall was larger than the dormitories, with high, vaulted ceilings and intricate carvings depicting airbending philosophy and achievements. Tall windows lined one side, offering a breathtaking view of the endless sky and the valleys below.

Kima's gaze lingered on the windows. They were large enough for someone to climb through, but they were also impossibly high, and the fall would be fatal. She frowned, turning her attention back to the others.

Sena was seated nearby, her hands clasped in front of her, but her expression was vacant. The other women seemed similarly detached, their spirits dulled by the oppressive monotony of their new lives.

Except for Kima. Her heart burned with quiet defiance.

When the prayer ended, the women were dismissed for the evening. Kima lingered at the back of the group, keeping her steps slow and deliberate as they filed out of the hall. She needed more time to think, more time to observe.

As the others returned to their dormitories, Kima hung back, pretending to straighten the mats they had knelt on. A nun noticed her and approached, her voice kind but firm. "You should return to your room, Kima. It's been a long day, and rest is important."

Kima nodded, masking her frustration. "Of course. I just wanted to make sure everything was tidy."

The nun smiled faintly. "That's thoughtful of you, but don't overwork yourself. The Air Nomads value balance in all things, including rest."

Kima forced a polite smile and turned to leave, her fists clenched at her sides.

Balance, she thought bitterly. You people are the cause for the greatest imbalance in the whole world!

Back in the dormitory, she found the others already settling in for the night. Sena gave her a tired smile, but Kima barely acknowledged it. She climbed into her cot and pulled the thin blanket over herself, staring at the ceiling as her mind churned.

She needed more information. She needed to know the temple's routines, the guards' patterns, and the layout of the mountain. And she needed allies.

Her eyes drifted to Sena, who was already asleep. Could she trust her? Would she even be willing to help?

Kima sighed softly, closing her eyes. Tomorrow, she decided. Tomorrow, I'll start figuring it out.

But sleep didn't come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the faces of the nuns, the Sentinels, and the women around her, all blurring together into a suffocating reminder of her captivity.

Somewhere outside, the wind howled, a mournful sound that carried her into a restless sleep.

...

The wind outside the dormitory rose and fell like a distant wail, its eerie cadence seeping into Kima's uneasy dreams. She was no longer lying in her cot. Instead, she found herself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single, flickering lantern hanging from the ceiling.

The air was heavy, stifling, as though it pressed down on her chest with an invisible weight. The room was sparse, its walls lined with scrolls bearing airbending symbols and philosophies. She stood in the center, barefoot and clad in the plain robes the nuns had given her.

A sudden creak shattered the silence, and Kima turned sharply toward the door. It opened slowly, and there he was—Banzan. His figure loomed in the doorway, the faint light casting long shadows across his sharp features. His gaze locked onto hers, and his expression was calm, almost serene, but there was an undercurrent of something darker in his eyes.

"Kima," he said softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

She took a step back, her heart pounding in her chest. "What are you doing here?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if her question amused him. "I've come to see you. You've been on my mind since the day I brought you here."

Her stomach churned. "Stay away from me."

Banzan chuckled, a low, unsettling sound. "Why do you resist? I've given you a place in our world, a purpose greater than anything you could have imagined in that little village of yours."

"I didn't ask for this!" Kima snapped, her voice trembling with anger and fear. "I don't belong here, and I don't belong to you!"

He moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate. She backed away until her heel hit the wall.

"You're beautiful when you're defiant," he murmured, reaching out to touch her face.

Kima slapped his hand away, her breathing ragged. "Don't touch me!"

His expression darkened, the mask of playfulness slipping to reveal something colder. "You shouldn't fight me, Kima. It'll only make things harder for you."

She didn't wait for him to move again. With a surge of adrenaline, she shoved him as hard as she could and darted for the door. But before she could reach it, the air around her shifted violently.

A sudden force knocked her off her feet, slamming her back against the wall. She gasped, struggling to move, but the air itself seemed to pin her in place.

Banzan stood a few feet away, his hands raised, his expression calm once more. "I didn't want to do this," he said, his voice eerily soft. "But you've left me no choice."

Kima tried to scream, but the air was stolen from her lungs. She clawed at her throat, her vision blurring as panic set in. The room spun, and the oppressive silence was broken only by the sound of her desperate gasps.

Banzan stepped closer, his gaze locked on her face, his breathing slow and steady. There was something almost reverent in the way he watched her struggle, as though her pain was a sacred offering.

Her vision darkened at the edges, and she thought she could hear the wind again, a faint whisper that grew louder and louder until—

Kima woke with a start, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. She sat up, clutching the thin blanket tightly, her body trembling.

The dormitory was quiet, the other women still asleep. The wind outside had calmed, its mournful howl replaced by a gentle breeze.

"It was just a dream", she told herself, but the suffocating fear lingered, clawing at her mind.

She wiped at her damp face and glanced around the room, half-expecting to see Banzan standing in the shadows. But he wasn't there.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he might come. That he might make her nightmare a reality.

And that thought only strengthened her resolve. She had to escape. Before it was too late.

Banzan sat in his chamber, the gentle hum of the wind outside his window a constant companion. A low table was set before him, strewn with scrolls and maps detailing the mountain stronghold and its surrounding areas. He leaned back in his chair, his dark grey eyes half-closed, but his mind was far from restful.

A knock at the door disrupted his thoughts.

"Enter," he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of authority.

An air acolyte stepped in, bowing deeply. She was young, her robes meticulously pressed, and her expression was one of subdued nervousness.

"Master Banzan," she began, keeping her eyes respectfully lowered, "I have the latest report on the women under surveillance."

"Proceed," he said, gesturing for her to speak.

"The subjects are adhering to their assigned routines," she reported. "There have been no signs of insubordination or coordinated attempts to resist. However, there is one—Kima—who shows signs of restlessness. She appears more withdrawn than the others, but her behavior remains within acceptable boundaries."

Banzan's lips curved into a faint smile, though it carried no warmth. "Kima…" he mused, letting her name linger in the air. "Keep an eye on her. If she begins to step out of line, I want to know immediately."

"Yes, Master Banzan," the acolyte replied. She hesitated for a moment, as though she had more to say.

"Is there something else?" Banzan prompted, his gaze sharpening.

The acolyte swallowed hard. "No, Master. That is all."

"Then you may go."

She bowed again and left the room swiftly, the door closing behind her with a soft thud.

Banzan sat in silence for a moment, his fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of his chair. He had been in this position long enough to recognize the subtle signs of defiance. Kima's name lingered in his mind, a thread he intended to pull at when the time was right.

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, another knock came at the door.

"Enter," he called again.

This time, it was a middle-aged monk with a scroll tucked under his arm. He stepped inside and bowed, his movements deliberate and measured.

"Banzan," the monk said, presenting the scroll. "I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion, but this is crucial. A message has arrived from the Avatar."

Banzan's brows lifted slightly in surprise. "The Avatar?"

"Yes. He intends to visit within the next few days to discuss matters of importance."

Banzan's fingers tightened slightly around the scroll as he took it, his expression unreadable. He unfurled it and scanned the contents, his sharp eyes absorbing every word.

The message was brief but direct, written in the Avatar's unmistakable hand and stamped with his official seal. It confirmed the visit and hinted at a discussion of the Southern operations, though no specifics were given.

Banzan folded the scroll neatly and set it aside, his mind already working through the implications. The Avatar rarely involved himself in matters of this nature unless something significant was at play.

"Thank you," he said to the monk. "Ensure the preparations for his arrival are underway. I want everything to be in perfect order."

"Of course, I will have the acolytes prepare everything." The monk bowed and left the room, leaving Banzan alone once more.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the window. The Avatar's impending visit would undoubtedly bring complications, but Banzan was nothing if not adaptable.

And if Kima thought she could disrupt his carefully constructed plans, she would soon learn the futility of resistance.

A/N: Hey, so this chapter's technically filler, but it does build up towards some things that'll happen in future chapters. Also, sorry if things are going really fast, I'm trying to get to a certain point since most of the action doesn't happen at the air temple anyway, but I hope you guys liked this one.