"You're crazy, you know that?" Sayuri said when I told her that I wanted to go look for them. "You're going to track down the banished prince and his uncle? You heard what the princess said!"
"It's not like I'm bringing them back here to risk your studio being burned by the Fire Lord. I'm not stupid," I argued.
"But it's still putting yourself in danger, Gitan!" Sayuri pointed out.
"I've been in more dangerous situations. And I'm much more prepared this time than I ever was before."
"Gitan, I don't doubt your skills. But if Princess Azula discovers who you truly are, and she finds out you're helping wanted fugitives…" she didn't dare finish her sentence, the heaviness weighing down in the studio.
"And if I don't help them?" I retorted, my voice rising slightly. "They're out there, alone, with the entire Fire Nation hunting them. I know Zuko. He's... complicated, but he doesn't deserve that. And Uncle Iroh... he's done nothing but show kindness." My mind flashed back to the tea ceremonies on the ship, the gentle wisdom in Iroh's eyes. I couldn't just stand by. "Zuko is searching for the Avatar, yes, but I also saw a conflict within him. I trust him." It was a gut feeling, a conviction that went beyond logic.
Sayuri sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Trust? Gitan, these are Fire Nation royalty we're talking about!"
"And they helped me," I insisted. My gaze drifted towards the resort, where Azula had once been. "Besides," I added, a spark of defiance in my eyes, "if Azula is focused on hunting them, maybe she'll be less concerned with who's using dancing to take down her soldiers. And who knows, with your former students crawling back, you could create a dance team that fights back as well as it entertains. Maybe you could rival the Kyoshi Warriors." It was a flimsy hope, but it was enough to fuel my resolve.
Sayuri looked at me, her expression a mixture of exasperation and reluctant understanding. "You're so stubborn, you know that?"
A small smile touched my lips. "Maybe. But I have to try."
"Alright," she said finally, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "But you won't go without proper supplies."
I couldn't help but smile at her own stubbornness and unwavering loyalty. "Thank you, Sayuri."
Together, we began to pore over maps of the surrounding area, trying to anticipate where Zuko and Iroh might be headed. The image of their faces on Azula's wanted posters burned in my mind, a stark reminder of the danger they were in. I would be known as the Red Gale to the world, but I also knew that I needed to find a new identity if I was to keep Zuko and Iroh safe.
I left Sayuri's studio the next day with a pack full of maps, food, and the wallet Master Pakku gave me. I rowed my kayak up the Su Oku River, tracing the water with my paddle. The rocks and uphill current were the hardest challenge. On days when it rained, I would dock by the closest set of leaves or a nearby cave and seek shelter, using spark rocks to create a tiny fire to cook food by or bank to keep warm. Yet with each day, the current grew stronger and the paths became treacherous for a newcomer. At one point, the river bed was cut off by a path of pebbles, and I had no choice but to carry my kayak out of the river and walk along the bank.
The kayak was incredibly heavy. With the pack, it felt more like extra weight to carry. So much so that, through haggling, I sold it to a couple that had been runaways from an Earth Kingdom farming village. The money they offered hadn't been quite enough, but it could keep my wallet lined.
Without the heavy kayak, I was able to traverse the Earth Kingdom forests with much more ease. The maps led me away from camping sites where I figured robbers and perhaps gangs similar to the Pebble Patrol or the Freedom Fighters lay in wait. I came across small villages, most of them farming towns, that were guarded by Earth Kingdom soldiers. I was coming into one of these towns, and as I entered one soldier stopped me.
"You're that Red Gale dancer, aren't you?" he sneered.
My hand immediately reached for my staff. "So what if I am?"
"There have been stories about you. How you stood up to a Firebender with nothing but a staff and pretty flicks of your wrist, and that staff has been known to deal quite a blow to soldiers. How you sing songs about sunny winds and blooming flowers."
"What are you getting at?" I asked, my frown setting firmer.
He leaned closer. I could see that he was missing teeth, and something about seeing his tongue peeking through the gaps made my skin crawl. "It's dangerous to be singing and dancing in these parts. This is just a friendly warning."
I furrowed my brow and lowered my hand from my staff. "I'd rather be spreading hope through my dance than using dark warnings, no matter how friendly they may seem."
The soldier's sneer deepened, but he didn't press the issue further. Perhaps the growing rumors of the Red Gale had given him pause. With a final, unsettling look, he waved me through the town gates.
The encounter left a sour taste in my mouth. The Earth Kingdom, supposedly the defenders against the Fire Nation, seemed just as wary of anything that deviated from their rigid order. Spreading joy through dance and song shouldn't be seen as a threat. Anything that was seen as anything other than Earthbending shouldn't be seen as a threat. The towns I had visited were mostly nonbenders. Yet when any kind of bender, be they Earth Kingdom soldier or Fire Nation guard, had set them on edge.
I kept my head down as I walked through the dusty streets, the eyes of the villagers following me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. The atmosphere was heavy, the air thick with unspoken anxieties. This wasn't the welcoming respite I had hoped for.
As I stopped to fix my shoe, a small group of children approached me, their eyes wide with curiosity. One of them, a little girl with bright, inquisitive eyes, spoke hesitantly.
"Are you really The Red Gale?" she asked, clutching a worn wooden doll.
I knelt down, offering her a gentle smile. "That's what some people call me. But I have a real name.." I hesitated. I didn't have any strong cover name. Boys had the name Lee to fall back upon. Girls weren't so lucky. My eyes fell on the green hem of the doll's clothes, and a strange inspirational chord was plucked. "My name is Jade."
"They say you can fight with your staff like a warrior, but you move like the wind," another child chimed in.
"Dancing and fighting aren't so different," I explained. "They both require balance, focus, and knowing how to move."
The little girl with the doll took a tentative step closer. "Can you show us?"
I hesitated for a moment, mindful of the soldier's warning. But looking at the children's eager faces, I couldn't refuse. I was immediately reminded of a young Aang begging me to buy him an egg custard tart along a journey. I pulled out my staff and performed a few of Sayuri's simpler movements, the staff flowing through the air like an extension of my own body. I incorporated a few of the Red Gale's spins, softening the more combat-oriented edges. I sang the lullaby I would sing for Aang. My voice has gotten stronger during my training with Sayuri, and I barely recognized my own tone as I let the lyrics soar along with the combat and dancing.
The children watched in rapt attention, their eyes sparkling with wonder. When I finished, they erupted in applause.
"That was amazing!" the little girl exclaimed.
"It was like magic!" a little boy added.
For a brief moment, the heavy atmosphere of the town lifted, replaced by the innocent joy of children. Maybe spreading hope wasn't so dangerous after all. Maybe it was exactly what this war-torn world needed.
I knelt by the little girl. "You know, that song I sang? I used to sing it for my baby brother." I gently poked at the doll. "Do you have any little brothers or sisters?"
The girl shook her head. I smiled and sat up. "Well, that doll can be like a little sister to you. Where I came from, the song I sang was supposed to give children strength. It should give you strength, too."
The little boy approached. "Where did you get that cool staff?"
"A friend from the Water Tribe gave me the sharp tip." I lifted up the blade. The children let out "ooohs" and "ahhs" at my manufactured prop. "The rest of it was carved from bamboo that grows further north" The story flowed easily. Apparently my lies went further than making up the whereabouts of the Avatar. I made a figure eight with my hands, making the kids giggle. "Bamboo is much more flexible than wood, but it's not as strong as metal." I pulled the scarf down slightly to expose the burn scars. Several children gasped. "See? Even burns can't keep it down for long."
Another little boy came over with a sullen expression. "I wish I was made of bamboo," he said. He lifted up his pant leg. My eyes widened and I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle the gasp that I had burst out. The child's burn was horrific. The skin wasn't clearly taken care of properly, so sections of the burn were starting to bubble. "Then when the Fire Nation hurt me, it wouldn't hurt."
I knelt down by his side. In him, I saw two figures. One was Aang, crying over a skinned knee. The other was my imagination of Zuko being burned by his own father, leaving behind the scar that marked him a failure. My gray eyes met his, and I reached behind me. "Would you like to learn how to fight like me?" I asked.
The boy's eyes glinted eagerly. I nodded to the children. "If you can, bring your parents, or grandparents, or whoever is taking care of you. They should learn what I'm about to teach you as well. Tell them to bring whatever farm equipment they have, and if anyone has any kindling, they should bring it, too."
A ripple of excitement went through the small group of children with giggles and excited chatter. They scattered like startled sparrows, calling out to unseen figures in the nearby buildings. I watched them go, a sense of quiet satisfaction settling within me. Perhaps this unexpected detour in a simple place to rest wouldn't be so fruitless after all.
Soon enough, a small crowd of adults began to gather with the children, their faces etched with a mixture of curiosity and concern. An old man brought a wheelbarrow filled to the brim with kindling. They kept a wary distance, their eyes flicking between me and the Earth Kingdom soldiers patrolling the edges of the town.
"Thank you all for coming," I said, my voice carrying in the still air. "My name is Jade, and I'm a traveling dancer from Omashu. I've learned a few things on my journey, and I'd like to share some of them with you, especially the children." I gestured to the little boy with the burn. "What happened to your leg?" I asked gently.
His mother, a woman with tired eyes and calloused hands, stepped forward. "A Fire Nation raid, a few months back. We were lucky to escape with our lives."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd, a stark reminder of the constant threat they lived under.
"I can't heal your son's burn," I said, my gaze sweeping over their worried faces. "But I can teach him, and all of you, how to protect yourselves. How to move, how to use whatever you have at hand to defend against attack." I tapped my staff. "This is just a piece of bamboo with a sharp edge. But with the right training, it can be used for more than just looking pretty. Adults, follow my movements with your equipment. As for the children, make sure they have some of the sticks."
There was a stillness for a moment. Finally, after some initial hesitation, some adults held up their pitchforks and hoes. The little boy's mother tool the initiative to give each child a stick. The little girl with the doll had given her toy a small twig. I began with simple stances, mirroring Sayuri's warm-up exercises. The children mimicked my movements with enthusiasm, their earlier apprehension replaced by focused energy. The adults watched with a more cautious interest, their guarded expressions slowly melting into delight as they realized what a simple twist of a wrist could transform something into.
As I moved into some of the more staff-oriented techniques, incorporating elements of the Red Gale, a few of the Earth Kingdom soldiers began to take notice. They approached the edge of the small gathering.
"What's going on here?" one of them demanded, his voice gruff. I recognized him as the grumpy old man who had greeted me.
I stopped my demonstration, meeting his gaze steadily. "Just sharing some… exercises with the townspeople."
"Exercises that look suspiciously like fighting," he retorted, his eyes narrowed.
"Self-defense," I corrected calmly. "In these times, it's a skill everyone should have."
The soldier grunted, unconvinced. "We're here to protect these people. They don't need you filling their heads with… fancy moves."
"And what happens when you're not here? What happens when you're called to the front lines and leave these people behind?" I countered, my voice gaining a sharper edge. "What happens when the Fire Nation comes again? Will your earthbending or weapons be enough to protect everyone? Or will a little knowledge of how to move, how to defend with whatever they have, give them a better chance?"
A tense silence hung in the air. The villagers watched the exchange with bated breath. The soldier's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.
I turned back to the children, a small smile on my lips. "Let's continue, shall we?"
And so, in the dusty square of a small Earth Kingdom farming town, under the watchful eyes of wary soldiers and hopeful villagers, I began to teach. Not just dance, not just fighting, but a way to find strength and confidence in a world that often felt powerless. For the little boy with the burn, the little girl who was passing on my teachings to her doll, and for everyone else who had suffered under the shadow of the war, this was more than just a lesson; it was a seed of hope. And maybe, just maybe, it would take root and grow.
When I completed my lessons with the villagers, I was thanked with tears, laughter and beams of pride in themselves. One man said that he was going to write down my advice and teaching with plans to send it to his brother who lived near the Great Divide. Another said that, in honor of me, they would paint the frame of their door red. This idea seemed to ripple throughout the village, and one Earth Kingdom soldier made a note and told his superior to follow those same instructions. I decided to write down my descriptions of steps on scrolls, handing them to family and other men who had families that needed extra support. They promised to keep the motions secret.
My thoughts of meeting up with Aang, or even Zuko and Iroh, had been left forgotten. My priorities had shifted to ensuring nonbenders could fight back. But then one day, a driver of a delivery wagon said that he was heading south, and offered me a ride. With it, though came grave news; he said that Omashu had been overtaken by the Fire he knew of a small river village not too far off that I could be taken to.
Hearing that Omashu, a huge part of my childhood, had come under Fire Nation rule pierced my heart. Yet it led to more fears. Had Aang been captured? His friends? What about Bumi? How did a powerful Earthbender get overwhelmed? And more importantly, were those I was thinking about still alive? My heartbeat grew faster, and my world begun spinning.
I accepted the offer without any more questions. The people waved goodbye to me. Some children were crying, the little boy with the burn tried to follow the wagon but stopped just at the gate. I waved back, and slowly turned away, the rattling of the cart my only companion.