Chapter 19: Draw
Draw a match,
Draw a story,
And fit the world to it.
Soon you’ll find,
It speaks more,
Of the person who drew it.
It was barely light. The moon still bobbed peacefully in the sky, the stars twinkling faintly beside it. At the edge of the horizon, a sliver of sun sent streaks of golds and oranges through the clouds. The two celestial orbs hung silently over the city, distant guardians overseeing both the sleeping and the awake.
Even at this time, the palace staff were already busy in preparation for a new day. Servants milled in and out of the grounds, preparing breakfast, lighting fires, carrying messages. It was only out here, in the expanse of the training grounds, that the Fire Lord could feel some stillness. Zuko stood alone in the centre of the yard, closing his eyes against the closest scattering of his guards thirty feet away. He treasured this moment of his day. It was the only time he could get any peace. The only time he allowed himself to forget.
Zuko breathed in and then out, feeling the warm golden glow of his strength respond from deep within him. As it shifted, he moved with it; slow and methodical at first, and then building up to sweeping and graceful as he shattered the air with his flame. Behind him, his blank-faced guards said nothing. But whether he knew it or not, rumours were beginning to build that this was not a Fire Lord to be messed with personally.
Zuko completed his series of kicks, and then turned around sharply to begin working on his arms. Punch after punch blistered from his body, the fire of life exulting as it flowed from his core. With each blow he meditated, clearing his mind of nothing but the purity of flame. The long hours spent with old men he didn’t trust faded. He deliberately pushed away the economic worries, the refugees, the prisoners of war, the nations’ hatred. He even granted himself a moment to stop being worried about his friends; how Mai and Shen Li were doing in the Weiji province, how Toph and Aang were going in Ba Sing Se, how Sokka and Suki were preparing for the North Pole, how Katara was surviving only Agni-knows-where. All of it he cleared from him mind, leaving the essence of himself and his power paramount in his thoughts.
He was Zuko, Fire Lord Zuko. He carried both good and evil in him, and he finally had the strength and awareness to make the choice to do good. It was like a mantra within him, repeating second after second as he loosed a wave of fire, sending it arcing up towards the sky before splitting it into tongues. It was his promise to himself, that no matter how ill at ease he was with his Ministers of War/Defense and Security or how helpless he felt against the problems devouring his country and the nations’ hate, that he would still be himself and never give up. It was his prayer, and the only thing keeping him sane even as he felt his grip slipping.
Zuko closed his eyes and felt premature lines cross his face. Even in the height of his power and meditation, the niggling thought that there was no way he could do this alone preyed on his mind. Zuko dropped to the ground and delivered a scissor kick, the same one that had brought his sister down. It had taken two to finish that fight, and as he faced an even bigger battle with seemingly no end, he couldn’t help but think...
Engrossed in his suddenly skewed thoughts, Zuko didn’t even notice that he had an extra audience member until he stopped to check his stance. Sweat dripped down in to his eyes, and as he wiped it away, he saw an old woman standing before him, two of his guards hanging uncertainly at her shoulders. Zuko started as he recognised her. In truth, it should have been more difficult. After all, she and her sister looked very much alike. But even the most unobservant dolt could see the difference between blind hatred and weariness, and so Zuko steeled himself.
“Lady Kata?” he bobbed his head respectfully. “What brings you here?”
The fact that he’d remembered her name was her first surprise, but she didn’t show it. The second was the civility of his tone. She blinked. She’d just spent ten minutes staring with mixed hatred and awe as he’d blasted off concentrated strike after concentrated strike of the element she loathed the most. The roar had seemed so ferocious, so devouring and hideous to her that the manners of its wielder were like a slap in the face.
Kata swallowed and tried to get back on track. “The ship to the Northern Water Tribes leaves today,” she managed to blurt out.
That was all she said, but the Fire Lord nodded again in acknowledgement. “I will be down at the docks this afternoon to see you off,” he said calmly. “I hope that you have a good journey.”
Again. The... civility. From someone she’d always thought would be a barbarian, it was almost frightening. Kata narrowed her eyes, trying to find any trace of sarcasm of ill-wishing... or anything else that might point to his evil. But it was hard. The only break in the Fire Lord’s composure was the fact that he was panting lightly, his upper body covered in a sheen of sweat. Clad only in training pants, he looked so much younger than she remembered seeing him. Then, at the coronation and at the dinner, his formal robes had lent him years that he did not have, and he’d borne it so naturally she’d assumed...
Then again, Kama had mentioned that she’d spotted his youth right away. And now, as Kata saw him, she had to admit that her sister had been right. He was young. Probably not even in his twenties. In fact, as he stood before her, there was little to distinguish him from the boy she trusted, Sokka.
Well, except for the fact that he was the Fire Lord and a firebender.
Kata’s brow furrowed. She’d been standing here for a while now, watching as fire cut through the air and burst into stars. And she’d remembered that before her time in prison had led to fire meaning death and pain, it had meant life too...
Angrily, Kata pushed the thoughts away. Ruminating on the nature of fire was not why she was here. After all, all she wanted to do was get out of here, to survive. Once she got away from this spirits-forsaken place, she never wanted to think about the Fire Nation again.
Of course, there was one problem with that.
“My sister still wants to stay here,” she said abruptly, glaring at him as if it were his fault. “She wants to meet the Avatar’s waterbender.”
Something unreadable flickered across the Fire Lord’s eyes at that, and she watched him eagerly, waiting to see the mask fall and find proof of the monster within. Then, then Kama would surely listen to her and abandon her wretched plan...
Then, maybe, she could find someone to unleash her hatred against...
But as quickly as it had come, the flicker went, and the Fire Lord relaxed. “Her name is Katara,” he said quietly, the emphasis in his voice both unmistakable and confusing. But before Kata could try to figure out what it meant, his eyes lifted and seemed to stare straight into her soul. “And I promise I will look after your sister until she returns.”
Strangely enough, it was that which set her off. The sheer arrogance and meaninglessness of it all hit her, and it was as if lightning had arced up her spine. “You promise, do you?” Kata hissed. “Hah! A firebender’s promise is as worthless as spit! I swear, Fire Lord, you might have fooled my sister, but you haven’t fooled me! If a hair on her head is hurt...”
Too late, she remembered the guards behind her, and as their hands closed over her arms she screamed. It was as instinctive as it was visceral - thirty years of pain and horror tearing through her mind like a tsunami and leaving nothing left. She screamed and screamed, the sound ripping her own heart in two, and it was only when the fingers abruptly loosened and the guards stepped back that she stopped.
Shivering, Kata realised somehow that she’d dropped to the ground and curled herself into a ball. Her back jutted out, the curves of her spine still clearly visible beneath her skin and the cloth pulled tight against them. She shuddered at the familiarity of the pose, the one that protected most of her internal organs as they kicked...
Dimly, she realised that the Fire Lord was kneeling before her. His look was indescribable. His face was blank, but inside his eyes, something was raging, and she shied away from it as she remembered with hatred and bitterness that even though she was ‘free’, she was as powerless as ever, and it was all his fault, the Fire Lord’s fault...
He spoke.
“What my father and grandfather did to you was horrendous,” he said quietly. “It was an abomination. I can’t repeat how sorry I am, because otherwise we’d be here forever.”
The words loosened around her ears and she stared at him blankly. He reached up to touch his scar, and for the first time, so close up, she realised how deep it went.
He was speaking again. She tried to focus on something else, anything else besides the lies spilling from his hated throat. He was the Fire Lord. She had to remember that. He was not an innocent boy, but the Fire Lord.
“But I am not my father. And I do promise to you that your sister will be safe as long as she chooses to remain here.”
For a moment, she focused on his eyes. They were deep and metallic, gold and multi-hued with sorrow. And for that moment, she wanted to believe him...
And then she remembered that of all the nations, only Fire Nation had golden eyes. Her focus frosted over again and Kata began to struggle. torn between pushing herself upwards to her feet and leaping out at him. But then suddenly, both urges halted as a new voice cut into the scene.
“Zuko! Zuko, I have to talk with you!”
Both the Fire Lord and the waterbender jerked up, just in time to see a pink blur cartwheel itself across the training square. Kata gaped, turning to the Fire Lord for some indication of who this was. But all she saw was his shoulders soften as he rose.
“Ty Lee? What are you doing here?”
The girl executed a twist and skidded to her feet less than a meter away. Kata couldn’t believe her eyes. Every movement this girl made seemed like some sort of choreographed dance. She’d never seen such inhuman grace.
And then the girl opened her mouth, and the fact that the package came with such a bright cheery voice jarred Kata’s ears. “Sorry to disturb you during training! But I just thought that this was too important to be delayed long, and oh...”
Ty Lee started, as if she’d suddenly noticed that the Fire Lord was not alone. Kata resisted the urge to lash out or shrink away as the bright, wide eyes turned on her. “Oh! You must be one of the Southern waterbenders I’ve been hearing about!”
Kata dumbly nodded, feeling as if the world was very, very strange. Less than a week ago, she’d never dreamed that she’d talk to the Fire Lord without it ending in his slow and painful disembowelment, and the term ‘Fire Nation’ brought with it only the image of a hateful guard, brown eyes cruel and slanted as he dealt his abuse.
But now... before Kata could even comprehend it, she was caught up in a brief but heartfelt embrace. And then, just as quickly, the acrobat danced backwards as she smiled. It was blinding.
“Wow, I’m so happy that you’re out! I mean, I was in prison for two weeks and that was terrible... but you...” her grey eyes were wide and sad at the same time. “You must be ecstatic!”
The whirlwind of words floated past Kata’s ears, just as her muscles tensed instinctively to push the Fire Nation girl away from her. But of course, her muscles were met with thin air, and Kata blinked as her mind finally caught up with everything.
“Ecstatic,” she echoed hollowly. She felt somehow dry and empty next to this girl, as if Ty Lee’s smile was bright enough to outshine every fibre of her being. She stepped back, but Ty Lee had already taken her words for an answer, beamed brilliantly, and then turned back to Zuko as he cleared his throat.
“So what’s this all important news?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you look so jumpy for a while.”
Ty Lee’s smile suddenly faded, and it was as if the sun had ducked behind a cloud. “Well, you know, as your Public Relations Officer, I’ve been getting a few invitations from noble families as well as some of the Nation’s organisations to join them at these social gatherings. You know, to be your spokesperson and mingle and stuff.” A look crossed her face, as if she’d suddenly thought of something. “You do know that, right?”
The years in prison had been long enough for Kata to craft the perfect image of the Fire Lord in her mind. He was tyrannical, monstrous, and above all cruel to everyone, even his own. Any rebellion or insubordination would be met with harsh retribution.
Zuko simply rolled his eyes and huffed good-naturedly. “Of course I know that. Why?”
Ty Lee chewed her bottom lip nervously. “We-ell... it’s because General Hang invited me to lunch today. With his family.”
Zuko drew a quick breath. “The Minister for War.... uh, I mean Defense? What does he want?”
“I don’t know,” Ty Lee shrugged helplessly. “I’m surprised too... in all my time at court I’ve never heard of that guy inviting anyone like this with such short notice. All I know is he wants an answer as soon as possible... so I thought I might check with you first. Is there anything that’s been going on with your Ministers I should know about?”
The words sounded innocent, but her tone belied a greater understanding than her face did. Ty Lee had grown up at court. More importantly, she had grown up as Azula’s friend. And no sunny, carefree disposition could ever wipe away the resulting development of a finely honed survival instinct.
Zuko caught the connotations too, and frowned. Kata noted that it made him look older than he really was. “What’s not going on?” he mused, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “At the moment, I’d fire the lot of them just for safety’s sake if it wasn’t for the fact that that’d bring the nobility down around my ears. I’m only just beginning to get who I can trust. And Hang is not one of them. He’s been nothing but recalcitrant to the point of insolence recently.” Zuko look grew reflective. “But the damn viper steps to the limits with me. So to have him invite you... he must want something.”
Ty Lee swallowed. “Should I not go, then?” she asked. “I mean, it wouldn’t be good to give him what he wants, right?”
Zuko paused for a moment, as if contemplating the matter. And then he shook his head decisively.
“No, you should go,” he said firmly. “If Hang wants something, then I want to know what it is. There’s no hard evidence that he or any of the others are planning anything, but you might be able to get something out of him.”
Ty Lee smiled nervously. “I don’t know... he’s always been pretty standoffish.” The acrobat tilted her head, sifting through memories. “And come to think of it, kind of creepy.”
At the unspoken fear in her eyes, Zuko shifted imperceptibly, his stance turning from businesslike to familiar. He didn’t blame her. General Hang was infamous. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said carefully. Even Kata could see the sincerity in his eyes. “Say you’re busy or something. I can always try to catch him out at our meetings. If he is planning something, the fox is bound to slip up sometime.”
The false conviction in his voice rang hollow in the air, jarring everyone within hearing range. Zuko winced at himself. Ty Lee said nothing. Then her gaze dropped, and she sighed. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”
Zuko turned away, slightly ashamed. “Yes,” he admitted. “But as I said...”
She swallowed and cut him off. “I’ll do it,” she bobbed her head and tried to smile. “I mean hey, that’s what I’m here for, right? To be all public relation-y?”
Zuko couldn’t help but smile himself. It was thin and strained, but faced with such unexpected loyalty... “And you’re very good at it,” he said truthfully. “Much better than me.”
Ty Lee brightened a little. “I am at that, aren’t I?” she commented, without a hint of self-consciousness. “Hey... maybe I’ll even get him to lighten up a little! It’d be nice to see a colour in his aura besides, like, dirty grey.”
“If you can manage to do that,” Zuko said dryly. “I’ll officially promote you to Public Miracle Worker.”
Ty Lee’s face grew serious again at that. “I’ll try, Zuko,” she promised honestly. “I will.”
It was funny - only now, when her going was set in stone, did the worry begin to wash over him. Zuko thought of his sharp-faced Minister and his insides clenched. “Be careful,” he warned her. “You’re right, Hang is creepy. At the very least, I can imagine him taking pleasure in putting you in a hard position.”
Ty Lee’s eyes dimmed a little, but her chin lifted. “I will,” she repeated again. “Thanks.”
Zuko watched as she cartwheeled away, too engrossed in his thoughts to notice that somewhere along the way, his other companion had vanished. Because Ty Lee was right in more ways than one. Hang’s sudden invitation was suspicious, and the speed of it made him uncomfortable. For one, it just wasn’t Court protocol to give less than a day’s notice. And the Minister of War himself wasn’t known to be too sociable...
Zuko shook his head. First Mai and Shen Li to the Weiji province, where five trained scouts had already disappeared, and now Ty Lee to the hospitality of General Hang. If he didn’t know himself better, he’d think that he was deliberately trying to get his friends killed.
8 8 8
Ty Lee was nervous.
Not that it showed. No... she could feel the smile stretched tightly over her face, externally lighting up her eyes. It was only in her aura that she could feel things changing. A dark muddy blue danced around her head with violent swirls, matched only by a cloudy grey collecting near the tips of her ears. She shuddered and tried to will herself pinker.
“More mussels, my Lady?”
Ty Lee resisted the urge to squirm. “Please, just call me Ty Lee.”
Hang smiled. “Of course.”
Ty Lee shuddered inwardly. She recognised that smile. It reminded her of one of Azula’s smiles, before she pounced. Not that she’d minded at the time, but now in retrospect...
Azula had been a good friend. Or so Ty Lee had thought. Sure, she knew that when the push came to shove, Azula would always get her own way. But Ty Lee didn’t mind so much when she knew that the older girl would be there with her fun schemes and wicked smile. And Ty Lee had been content to pledge her loyalty to that, to have such fun running around with her two friends once more. It had been like the Academy all over again, only this time with boys. And through it all, she’d known that Azula needed her and Mai. Needed her. Not anyone else, not any of her sisters, but her.
And then Azula had turned on Mai...
Ty Lee stiffened, ran away from the memories, and forced her attention back to her host. He was still smiling as he looked at her, and it looked as unnatural on his angular face as his court robes did on his body. She’d never seen him in anything but his armour or the nobleman’s breeches and tunic. She quickly filed away the oddity in her mind. Perhaps he was trying to make some subtle statement?
“So, Ty Lee, how are you enjoying work as the Fire Lord’s Public Relations Officer?”
Or perhaps not so subtle. Ty Lee smiled, lifted her fork up to her mouth, and chewed. At least, knowing that Hang’s wife and children were eating silently from the same plates reassured her that the food wasn’t poisoned. Not that she could see any reason for him to do so... perhaps she was being paranoid.
“Oh it’s great,” she enthused honestly. “I get to talk to lots of people and have fun. Zuko’s even allowed me to have free run across the palace. And you wouldn’t believe how much more fun some of the balustrades are than the tightrope!”
He kept smiling. “That sounds wonderful. I’m glad to hear that you’re enjoying it...”
“Mmhn,” Ty Lee chewed another mussel down, feeling the pleasant burn of chilli as it slid down her throat. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad at all. She could do small talk. Small talk and really nice food.
“... and the Fire Lord is lucky to have such a loyal servant. How did that come about, by the way? The last I heard you were one of Princess Azula’s most trusted friends.”
Ty Lee froze. His smile hadn’t faltered, and now as she looked closer, she could see that the cold steel in his eyes hadn’t faltered either. Spirits, this was not looking good...
And then she was saved. Hang’s wife stirred from where she was sitting further down the table, the consummate picture of the demure politician’s wife. “Come now, dear,” she chided gently. For some reason, the words sounded vaguely rehearsed. “We shouldn’t talk of such things over lunch!”
Ty Lee held her breath as an inscrutable look flickered over Hang’s face. For a moment, she wasn’t sure whether he was going to ignore his wife or something worse, but then he relaxed.
“I’m sorry, dear. I forgot myself for a moment,” he turned back to her and smiled again. Ty Lee didn’t feel reassured. “Well, in that case, how about your other friend? Lady Mai. I haven’t seen her around for a few days. In fact, I’ve barely seen her since your return.”
Ty Lee didn’t hesitate. “Oh, Mai’s gone off on a trip. I guess she wanted to see more of the Fire Nation after being stuck in the Earth Kingdom so long, and then...”
Hang interrupted. “That’s funny,” he commented. “I seem to remember her being particularly close with Prince Zuko...”
His eyes latched onto hers like a shark’s. “And with her coming back but then leaving again so suddenly... is everything all right?”
Ty Lee couldn’t think. Zuko and Mai’s break-up had been private after all. Then again, neither of them had told her not to tell, and surely Hang couldn’t wring anything nefariously useful from such knowledge...
Heck, at this moment she was willing to tell him anything that wasn’t obviously sensitive as long as it got him off her back. “Well, actually, they’re not really together anymore,” Ty Lee said uneasily, hoping she wasn’t making some huge mistake. “In fact...”
Again, he cut her off, now with a distinctive gleam in her eyes. “You mean the Fire Lord is now single?”
Ty Lee squirmed. Why this consummate politician was latching onto that, she wasn’t sure. But now he was looking at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes, a look that made her feel distinctively uncomfortable.
But at least one thing was for certain. She wasn’t looking forwards to relaying this back to Zuko. Or Mai, for that matter. Silently, Ty Lee breathed, steeled herself for the rest of lunch, and hoped that her friend was having a better time.
8 8 8
Mai was running.
She veered left, heard the crashing behind her, and cursed as she ducked nimbly back to the right again... just in time to avoid another arrow. The movement jostled the load across her shoulder, and she heard a faint moan. But there was no time to fix it. Mai kept running, the harsh pants splitting her throat the only sign of her exertion.
The forest thickened ahead of her. She used it to leap from cover to cover, eyes always scanning ahead for a hiding place. Behind her, she heard the shrill keen of yet another arrow. Mai cursed and fell to her knees... just in time. The shaft whistled past her head and thunked ominously into a tree inches from her scalp, its deadly point quivering inches deep into the wood.
For a moment, she wanted to stay there. The waterbender got heavier with each step, and she had been running now for nearly ten minutes. Harsh breaths knifed into her lungs and Mai looked into the undergrowth ahead. What she would do for Shen Li’s wires now...
The crunch of footsteps grew louder, the dim yells of pursuit amplifying in her ear. Mai was suddenly glad for the years of relentless training and drills at the academy, especially for one such as her. Getting back onto her feet was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she did it with only one hand steadied on the trunk in front of her.
And then she was running again, glad for her strength. The ground dipped unevenly between her feet now, the dirt hidden by layers of leaves and sticks. Mai could hear the commotion still behind her as those same leaves and sticks were rent apart by armoured feet. She gritted her teeth. The army too had drills and training... even the rebel factions, it seemed. That was the only explanation for how they could still be following her when they were weighed down, some by over twenty pounds of armour.
Then again, she was weighed down by over twenty pounds of waterbender. Mai ducked sharply to the left to avoid another missile, and heard a faint cry in response yet again. Mai had to shake her head in respect. She was still conscious. Mai felt another fresh surge of sticky wetness flood her robe at her shoulder, and she wondered how long for.
“The... the river...”
Given the crashing of their pursuers, the crackle of the undergrowth and the sound of her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears, Mai was surprised she had heard it. It was soft against the other sounds, soft and weak as its owner bled. Then she realised that the waterbender had managed to prop herself up, curving around to get as close to her carrier’s ear as possible. Mai shook her head again.
“What?” she rasped.
Katara stirred faintly again, lurching drunkenly on the noblewoman’s shoulder. “Get... get us to the river.”
After everything she had seen, Mai knew she should not have doubted. And yet she did, even as her feet turned eastward. Noting the change, Katara slumped back down again and held on, fighting back unconsciousness as the blood boiled around her head and back.
And Mai kept running.
The sound of their pursuers was fainter now. Whether that was because she’d changed direction or because they were tiring, Mai didn’t know, but she also didn’t particularly care. In her exhaustion, she focused only on moving her legs in front of the other, ignoring the knives scraping her lungs, and not dropping her burden. Both dead branches and living blurred past them as she kept running, and soon the distant sound of the river joined the crashing of the soldiers and the beating of her heart.
Mai could have wept. Almost there, almost there. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t; not for exhaustion, not for pain, not for relief. Another arrow sounded and it was with a strangled cry that she managed to throw them both out of the way. She stumbled on the landing, almost falling, but kept going.
This is how it feels to run.
The forest was thinning. The rush of the river was increasing. And so was the sticky flow seeping down her back.
This is how it feels to run for your life.
Briefly, Mai wondered whether this was how the waterbender and her companions had felt all of the previous year. She decided that since they’d so often stood and fought, perhaps not. And yet it was more than just the strain of the running and the taste of defeat. Mai felt fear rear up inside her, deep, instinctual fear that overwhelmed her sense and made her heartbeat run as fast as her legs.
It was exhilarating, exhausting, terrifying. Mai felt every inch of her screaming. Alive. The sound of the river came closer. So did the sound of their pursuers. Mai wanted to weep but couldn’t.
Almost there...
And then they were. The trees thinned out almost to vanish. Mai stumbled forwards onto grass, the river licking the edges of the earth less than three metres away. The sight of it was enough to finish her. Mai collapsed, spent beyond belief. She had used up everything she had and more; the oxygen in her muscles, the energy in her bloodstream, an inner strength she had forgotten she owned. It was with the last vestiges of heart she did not have that she lowered Katara gently to the ground.
And then she fell, properly, into place. The waterbender sprawled before the river like an offering, the noblewoman on her knees between her companion and the forest. But it was a futile arrangement of protection. Mai barely balanced on her hand, her fingers digging deep into the dirt. The other wavered in front of her, her remaining senbon at the ready. She’d lost so many during her near-drowning, and then again saving Katara’s life as the waterbender fell into the water. Even so, the ones she clasped were now just a gesture of defiance. Mai knew she didn’t have the strength to throw them. Not now. Her body buzzed with exhaustion, felt alive with pain and wracking gasps as the reality of her flight settled into her muscles. She could barely remain upright, let alone fight for their lives...
The crashing grew louder.
Exhaustion pushed spots into her eyes. Mai swayed, her left hand clawing deeper into the soft earth leading down to the riverbank. She was amazed at how much she could feel, in these last moments of her life. Anger at Katara for getting hurt. Respect for Katara at how she’d fought, fuelled by her care and compassion. Anger at herself for not seeing that the enemy was prepared. Amazement at herself for how she’d moved; how she’d dived into the river, pulled the bleeding waterbender to the surface and onto her shoulder, and then run.
The crashing grew louder. Their pursuers were almost upon them. Mai screwed her eyes shut.
Anger at her countrymen for whatever they were doing. Anger that they had tried to kill Zuko and Shen Li... and were about to kill her. A mix of anger and relief that she now cared.
It felt good to care about something...
And then they were there. Mai opened her eyes and saw five of them burst from the trees. She smiled a knife-like smile, one that penetrated into minds and left them bleeding. A clean-up squad. That was all they were. A clean-up squad from someone who would normally be underestimating them, but now, as they were...
Agni, who was she kidding? If the insurgents had sent one man, that likely would have been enough to finish the job. She felt her muscles beneath her, tried to pull her arm up and at least take one of them with her. The sound of their feet and their cruelty knifed her ears. Her heartbeat was still throbbing, her gasps for breath still coming fast and thick. And behind her, the sound of the river...
The sound of the river was increasing.
Mai watched in shock as time froze, and the bloodlust on the insurgents’ faces was replaced by terror. She felt coldness creep over her, realised that the sun had been stolen away by an unnatural shadow looming over her head. She was too tired to even turn, but when a massive whip-like wave defied gravity to curl around all five soldiers, it all became clear.
There was a start. A jerk. A scream. And then the water jolted backwards like a catapult, throwing its prey deep into the fast-flowing river. The current carried them away, muffling their splutters.
And everything around her went quiet.
Mai felt the rush of blood within her, heard the pumping of her heart still throbbing in her ears. Her body was still preparing itself for death, and her mind was still shocked. She pushed herself upwards to turn, slowly, just in time to see the waterbender crash to the ground from where she’d been standing, holding the river up by her shaky arms.
Her respect grew. And then all other thoughts were wiped clean as she saw the arrow still buried deep in Katara’s back, the shaft brought vertical by her collapse. Blood soaked the purple robes gathered there, and the sight was enough to get her moving again.
Mai crawled forwards, pushing her senbon back into their holders so she could use both hands. With strength she did not have, she gathered Katara underneath her shoulders. The waterbender’s normally dusky face was pale underneath the dirty gauze, her eyes slack and gone. Mai mentally shied back at the sight. She was not dead. Not after everything...
Still. Her eyes were drawn to the blood at her knees, and her other senses to the sticky liquid blossoming down her own back and shoulders from the run. Mai was no expert on field medicine, but she had a sinking feeling that it would take a miracle.
Then again, the fact that she herself was still breathing a day ago was also a miracle. Impossibly, an idea gleamed into her mind. Mai fell sideways, dragging the other girl with her. She let go and somehow pushed herself up again. Now that Katara was lying in the right position, Mai crawled around to her other side and began to pull. The waterbender’s cloth and skin seemed to work with her, pushing and pulling them inch by grievous inch down to the river. When they reached the bank, Mai gave one last yank and Katara’s lifeless body slid down the mud until she was submerged all the way up to her back.
And then Mai ripped the arrow out and prayed.
At first, she thought it had failed. The blood rushed out to the surface, coming in trails so thick they hung suspended in the water like a crimson cloud before being whisked away by the current. Katara jerked and cried out. Mai’s hand darted down unconsciously to grasp the girl’s uninjured shoulder. The blood poured out. Mai cursed the insurgents, cursed their preparation, and wondered how they had figured out the spirit was human.
And that was when the glow began.
It was dim at first, barely noticeable under the blue rush of the river. But then it grew, and the blood trails began to lessen. Mai saw it blossom through hazy eyes and unconsciously she smiled. A real one. She no longer doubted.
And as she watched, the deep, grievous wound began to heal. The blue glow dipped into the flesh, knitting it back together with tendrils of water and love. How Katara was managing to heal herself while unconscious she wasn’t quite sure, but Mai was beginning to suspect that the waterbender was truly unique. Unique and powerful. In the unguarded recesses of her mind, a place that was barely conscious and whose walls had been worn down by exhaustion and fear, Mai wondered how she kept finding these friends.
That thought was lost as she looked down again. The skin was near flawless now, unmarked except for a tiny, puckered blotch. Mai could have wept in relief, but she didn’t. She wasn’t that kind of person. She settled for realising that she was smiling, and increasing it infinitesimally. Her heartbeat slowed. Her breathing dilated, her gasps no longer rending the air. And then nothing but the river filled her ears, the sweet, rushing river that could deal both death and life in one blow.
How long they stayed there like that, she didn’t know. All that mattered to her was that they were safe now, that they’d made it out. Mai felt herself still as the spectre of death was slowly carried away by the river, the same river which had almost drowned her a day before.
She’d made it. They’d made it. She was about to finally let herself relax when she heard it.
Far off in the distance, but travelling unerringly closer, came the sound of claws and armour. Mai froze. Although the blood was slowly returning to her cheeks, Katara was still unconscious beside her. There would be no help from that quarter. And as she looked down at herself, extended her senses past her trembling muscles and into her failing heart, she breathed.
Silently cursing the irony of life, Mai readied her last senbon.
