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In the Earth Kingdom, one worshiped the small spirits.
The gentle ones that blessed faithful homes, the patient ones that guarded sacred spaces… the angry ones that haunted massive, rebuilt walls. A quiet prayer as one stepped from the guard house into the lower city, that steps would be sure, blades just, and citizens–friends, family, careful, careful–safe.
Sho remembered, when his family still lived outside the walls on their small farm, his mother had once said that their kingdom wasn’t a place of the Great Spirits. When he had questioned her, in all his tiny patriotic ten-year-old rage, she had smiled in response, pulling him close as if to impart some great secret while she explained. That the Fire Nation, which burned their farms and killed their men, had one Great Spirit. That the Water Tribes, who hid at their poles, had two, one for each. That the fallen Air Nomads had seen no need for their own spirits, sharing the spirits of wherever their temples grew, but leaving them spiritless when attacked.
But the Earth Kingdom, she’d said, the Earth Kingdom had many spirits! Smaller than a single Great Spirit, that may be, but they were of a far greater multitude and individuality than the other nations could claim. That was why they stood strong still, and why they would eventually be triumphant, she’d claimed, their small spirits would see them through.
It had been a rather inspiring little speech at the time, but, of course, the small spirits she’d worshiped hadn’t spared their farm from the next two years of drought. Nor did they stop the Fire Nation encampment that brought Earth Kingdom soldiers to their door in the middle of the night. They didn’t stop those soldiers from bundling them out of their farm with only the clothes on their backs and a couple of possessions and putting them on a small caravan to Half-Moon Bay. Maybe they’d had a hand in them having a safe passage and landing a good enough apartment in the lower ring for a family of four, or in his being skilled enough to apply for the city guard training program. Or maybe they were involved in the ominous letter with the black ribbon and army seal stamped with his father’s name that his mother wept over, or the vicious sickness that she and his youngest sister caught and never recovered from.
Maybe the small spirits had directed every event in his life, every event in human history. Or maybe that was just an excuse people used for why things happened, or why consequences came out the way they did, and the small spirits weren’t any more real than the Avatar. Maybe it didn’t matter, maybe it never mattered, but that didn’t stop his brain from bringing the entire internal argument right back up every time spirits were so much as mentioned.
“Spirits of the Divide!”
Such as his partner Jhi swearing under his breath when the local tea boy pulled Jhi’s Dao out of their sheath to defend against the crazy Wheat guy who had attacked him.
Wheat hadn’t looked that dangerous at first, shouting crazy stuff about Tea maker Mushi being a firebender, which, besides being ridiculous, had only served to upset the tea boy, Mushi’s nephew. Tea Nephew shouted something back about boiling water(?) and then threw some tea in the jerk’s face. Literally, pulled the tea from the cups he was bussing and threw it right in Wheat’s eyes! Surprising, sure, but also clear proof, definitely not firebenders. Only Wheat hadn’t gotten the hint. Still dripping tea, he’d pulled his weapons inside the building and started threatening civilians! And before Sho and Jhi had even gotten completely to their feet, Tea Nephew had already engaged!
Sho heard Jhi swear again as Tea Nephew took the fight outside. They spilled into the street, startling the few people still out as they struck at each other, blades clashing loudly. Sho could feel his heart pounding as he tried to keep up, Jhi having hung back for a brief moment, just to make sure everyone in the shop was prepared if any questions came. Hopefully, they could apprehend Wheat fast enough…
Jhi’s job mustn’t have been too difficult this time, because Sho saw him slip up beside him, just as Tea Nephew executed a flip over Wheat’s head.
“How’s it going so far?” He murmured, casually glancing up to check the nearest rooftops.
“Wheat is losing” Sho replied, already scanning the alleyways from the corners of his eyes “Tea Nephew is better than you are with those.”
“Oh ha ha,” Jhi replied, clearly satisfied with his rooftop check as he looked back toward the fight in time to see Tea Nephew give Wheat a good kick to the chest, propelling him further up the road and, unfortunately, back out of arrest range.
Wheat recovered his footing well enough, but he was looking more and more desperate with every swing, still shouting about firebenders infiltrating society even as Tea nephew took out one of his hook swords by sacrificing a Dao, and promptly replaced the lost weapon with an ice dagger formed from some groundwater, which he then attempted to jam into Wheat’s eye. This sent Wheat reeling backward, scurrying to get to a safe distance while looking around at the crowd as if he expected some sort of help after endangering lives like that. Tea Nephew stopped his advance, weapons down but ready, just watching Wheat demand why no one was doing anything.
The crowd stared blankly back at him, then some silent signal passed between them and they parted, allowing dark green robes to pass between them.
Sho didn’t let himself react to the chill that shot down his spine.
“What happened here?” One of them demanded, dark eyes like frozen pits as they glided from person to person.
“That boy attacked my employees!” The Tea Shop owner immediately responded, finger pointing at where Wheat still stood, and eyes focused straight ahead, lest those dark gazes linger too long.
The other tea shop patrons that had chosen to follow the fighting agreed with the old man, their voices rising together a clear and confident stating of the facts; to stumble or self-correct was to draw attention. Only the newest refugees didn’t know the rules for these sorts of situations; safety was found in being unremarkable, information should be given when asked for–demanded–and in as clearly and concisely as possible. Now, as the civilians finished their piece, Sho knew it was his turn to make sure everyone went home tonight.
Two pairs of deep dark pits swiveled to look at him in perfect sync.
“Yes Sir!” Always show respect, the guard trainers had whispered, “We saw the whole thing. This young man attacked the finest tea maker in the city.”
Mushi blushed and Tea Nephew rolled his eyes, both obviously thinking the danger had passed. Ah, new refugee optimism, Sho wished he could share it as Wheat took offense to their relating of his attack. He opened his mouth, remarks about firebenders already beginning to pour from his lips once more, and Sho had to put all his effort into not flinching and closing his eyes.
Stupid, stupid boy.
The remaining hook-sword was taken and rock-cuffs sealed harshly around the boy's wrists before he could so much as blink. He thrashed as pale hands gripped his arms and shoulders, unable to break their hold as they dragged him back, still shouting, still apparently unaware of what exactly was happening.
The crowd turned away–he didn’t blame them–but Sho remained where he was, Jhi at his shoulder, watching until the deepening shadows swallowed the three figures whole, sight sound, and all. The late-night bustle of the lower ring filled the air once more, some sort of vegetable merchant pulling his cart out of the mouth of the alley the three had just vanished down, none the wiser.
When had the warm night become so cold?
’’We… we still need to write the report…’’ Jhi broke the quiet between them, but Sho could see the tightness of his shoulders as he spoke.
‘’I’ll handle it.’’ It was skirting the edge of being against the rules, but as long as the report was filled out no one would bother–dare– to look into it. ’’Shift’s almost over, you should head home. Your wife will start to get worried if you’re too late.’’
Maybe it was unfair to use Jhi’s still-fresh marriage to his advantage. It worked though, as Jhi relaxed into the easy excuse. He clearly wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t disagree, and he followed Sho most of the way back to their assigned guard station before peeling away toward his apartment. Sho continued, reaching the small, quiet guard building and slipping inside.
He shut the door behind him, making sure the bolt slid solidly into place, then continued deeper in. He passed the empty receiving desk, the surface left bare, then the dusty metal cells for rowdy citizens that needed a night to cool their heels, the doors sitting open, hinges rusted in place. Just beyond the cells was the guard office, Sho’s destination, and home to more bare, empty desks. The only two still in use, Jhi’s and Sho’s own, were tucked back in the corner furthest from the covered window.
Sho wound his way between the desks in the dark, not really needing a light to tell where the pile of incident reports was stacked, all ready to be filled out. He palmed one, along with one of the calligraphy sets lying around, as he reached his desk and slid into his uncomfortable seat.
Everything stilled for a moment as he breathed, the blackness pressing around him, blending with the quiet into an all-encompassing shroud. He had a candle, he knew, and some spark rocks tucked inside his top drawer, within easy reach even without sight, but he didn’t bother with them yet. He unrolled the report, placing it on his desktop alongside the calligraphy set. He didn’t reach for the brush and still didn’t look for the candle, instead, Sho planted both feet firmly on the ground, pressed his fisted knuckles together, and bowed his head until it rested against them.
The Earth Kingdom had no Great Spirits for their people were vast and varied, or maybe their spirits had abandoned them, or been driven away by humanity’s callousness, their greed, their unbelief, worn away, like mountains to sand. Sand to sand, dust to dust. Sho’s mother had once said sand was the Earth’s whispers, carrying its stories in a way the solid mountains and cliffs never could. Part of him hoped she was right, as he spoke almost inaudibly into the dark, whispers to whispers, dust to dust, sand to sand. He whispered, all the while thinking of the sound of rock-cuffs, the lapping of lake water on the shore, and the eyes of a rowdy refuge boy as he was taken.
In the darkness, Sho whispered.
Elsewhere there was candlelight.
… “There is no war in Ba Sing Se”...
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When the people spoke of the Earth Kingdom, they spoke of their huge tracks of land, their solid people, and their impenetrable capital, strong enough to withstand the full might of the entire Fire Nation army. When they thought of the Earth Kingdom, they thought of their craggy cliffs and canyons, towering ancient mountains, and deep carved caves; these things so intrinsically, fundamentally Earth. It was the same innate understanding of connection as seeing a rising plume of volcano ash and thinking ‘Fire Nation’, or hearing the roll and break of waves on the shore and thinking ‘Water Tribe’. To be Earth was not to be the scorching painful haste of the flame, the indecisive flow of falling water, or the fickle brush of the breeze. To be Earth was to be those solid mountains, those imposing cliff faces, and solid ground beneath heavy feet.
It was due to this, this natural habit of humans to make patterns and associations between things of similar natures, that the Dai Li’s Base of Operations under Lake Laogai had remained undisturbed for so long.
And it would have remained that way if not for the Avatar and his meddling pack of brats!
The squad of agents that had been dispatched to secure the bison by Long Feng walked briskly toward their destination, conveniently away from the sounds of flying stone and prepubescent demands. The Avatar and his comrades had breached the base’s outermost defenses, but they would be busy for a time yet, enough time to have the bison moved without alerting the tiny Eartbender girl. Maybe, after he was done with his temper tantrum, the Avatar would finally understand the importance of ‘’cooperation’’, and cease with all this childish acting out. Waiting him out was annoying, almost as annoying as having to bother caring for his pet, but it was not like they had much of a choice. They would have already used their usual tried and true method for dealing with problem children, but the boy was far too public during his stay, and they weren’t sure the process would work on all of his compatriots.
No matter, no matter, it would all be resolved soon.
The Agents passed silently between the sconces holding the glowing green crystals that cast the ceiling into shadow above them, the dim light meant to make the winding tunnels seem endless and repetitive to enemies, but something the Dai Li were long used to, trained to use to their advantage. Nothing could defeat a Dai Li agent here, in the place that made them, the place they had mastered and no longer feared. Here they were invincible.
The Avatar was foolish to attack them here.
Some of the lights ahead went out.
The lead agent froze, as did the others behind him.
Another set of crystals flickered like they were guttering candles instead of solid stone and suddenly cut out.
The air had grown noticeably cooler.
The Agents drew tighter together, circling, backs to one another, listening for any sound to break the silence ahead.
‘’Show yourself, you are under arrest!’’ The Lead Agent shouted into the dark.
Nothing answered him, as more crystals failed, and the agents' breath foged into the air.
‘’You are trespassing by entering this base of Dai Li operations! You will show yourself and submit to arrest!’’ The Lead Agent didn’t promise leniency, whoever their intruder was would not receive any, not with how deeply they had gotten. At best they would be interrogated for everything they had learned, everything they could possibly know, their motivations, their hopes, dreams, dead fourth cousin’s last name, everything! Then, they would be given to the re-instructor, and if they passed they would get to spend their lives as a happy, helpful Joo-Dee or Joo-Li. If they didn’t pass, or if it was the worst case… well no one would miss them, surely.
No answer.
The shadows had bled from the ceiling spaces and now crept toward them like starving things, each crystal an eye blinking out, devoured by the darkness crawling ever closer. With them the cold came, slithering through their robes, along their skin, and settling into their lungs like some possessing phantom. Every shift, every movement was loud, every twitch of readiness constricting the cold tighter, while inversely sweat began to bead along each agent’s brow.
The crystals stopped flickering, mere yards away from where the Agents stood.
Nothing moved.
Nothing answered.
The lead Agent looked to his men from the sides of his vision, not willing to take his eyes away for a second.
A flash of blue.
The lead Agent stiffened, head turning slowly, against his will, to look behind.
In the center of their defensive circle, an agent’s robes, an agent’s hat, and underneath…
Underneath a wide, fanged grin…
‘’Y…!’’ He didn’t even have a chance to speak before the monster lunged, twin Dao emerging from under its stolen robes to ram mercilessly against the Agent’s temples, knocking him instantly unconscious.
The other Agents scrambled onto the defensive, launching their cuffs at the creature, only for it to dodge by leaping straight up, spinning to land twin kicks to the chins of a couple of Agents who were too close, and flooding the area with heavy fog. It became impossible to tell friend from foe, as their enemy viciously struck from all sides, pulling weapons out of thin air to leave nasty stab wounds, or tricking other Agents into attacking their fellows. It moved like a wild thing, launching itself in and out of range seemingly at random, but all of its strikes remained cruel and calculated. The stones thrown its way didn't come close to touching it, blue, black, and white dancing through them like they were a beginner's pebbles, not a seasoned agents’ head-sized boulders.
One by one it crept close to the Agents, steps frighteningly sure, striking like a viper-hawk once it was within range, bringing each of them down until only a lone, heavily beaten Agent remained awake.
The fog that had curled possessively around the skirmish dissipated like it had never been, but the terrifying figure remained, grinning down at the thoroughly frightened Dai Li Agent.
‘’ Where is the Bison? ’’ Its voice rasped like a blade over stone, like what the Agent thought Death must sound like.
The Agent gestured down the darkened hall.
The monster tilted its head that way, then back to the Agent, its dark hand coming forward to drag the unfortunate man up by the front of his robes. The Agent found himself face to face with the thing, not even a puff of mist escaping its smiling lips as it spoke.
‘’ Show me.’ ’
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The Earth Kingdom liked to brag about its impenetrable city. It liked to talk about how it survived the siege of the Great Dragon of the West, how his fire may have broken a wall, but their people had broken his will. Still standing against the strongest dragon’s fire, its walls safe enough, strong enough to cradle the beating heart of the Earth Kingdom, its artists and scholars, and wealthy and refugees. If the Dragon couldn’t conquer our walls, how could his kin conquer our people, they cry. We are stubborn, we are strong, and we are vast, what dragon could defeat us?
But they forgot, or maybe they just didn’t know, what the people of the Fire Nation had learned, was that to best a dragon, to defeat a being already stubborn and strong and vast and powerful , you couldn't just be, you had to be more. Not just strong and stubborn and vast and powerful, to best a dragon you had to be clever…
How unfortunate, Mai thought as she followed Azula away from the captured form of her uncle and suddenly alive brother, that the Earth Kingdom and the old Dragon had forgotten that.
The Avatar and girlfriend were fighting well enough, enough to keep her from getting bored at least. Ty Lee was probably flirting with that water tribe boy in the prison cells, not that they needed her for this anyway. Azula, Mai, and Ten Dai Li against the Avatar and is peasant friend? Yes, said peasant friend was pretty good, but not good enough, as another one of Mai’s blades slashed her cheek, and yet another tore her skirt. The Avatar wasn’t fairing much better with Azula’s undivided attention, and he was beginning to look very, very desperate. His strikes were sloppy and panicked, and Mai was tempted to throw a blade his way just to trip him up, if she didn't know for a fact Azula would murder her for stealing her prize. Instead, she focused on her own dance partner, flicking two blades straight at her feet, making her dodge, then stumble as one of the Dai Li clipped her in the shoulder with a stone pillar.
She rushed to right herself, to get to a safe distance, but the Avatar had seen, could see she was surrounded, and he couldn’t come to her aid with the way Azula was hammering him, so instead he… encased himself in crystals? That wasn’t going to stop Azula, it was barely going to slow her dow–oh something was happening! The crystals surrounding the Avatar began to pulse with light, throbbing like a heartbeat, then faster, faster and faster, until the pulses blended into one continuous stream and the light erupted from the Avatar’s crystal cocoon like a lava plume. It rose, an ever-growing column, carrying the Avatar within, sending sharp winds tearing through the caverns, stirring up the canal water into harsh waves, and making the walls quake
The watertribe peasant looked relieved, the Dai Li scared, and Mai was almost impressed by the show of power.
Almost.
But not really.
Because, while everyone else watched the Avatar ascend, eyes full of naked emotion, they had forgotten the most important thing. The most important rule of survival, be it in combat or in life…
Never take your focus off Azula.
She stood below the glowing column, face holding no fear, only a smirk, because what was the power of a child-spirit when you were cleverer than Dragons? Mai watched the princess’ hands move, swift, practiced, and then perfectly still.
A sharp crack rang out, the air shattering.
Light searing a dozen eyes.
The bolt strikes true.
The light fades.
The watertribe peasant screams.
The World Spirit collapses like a broken doll.
His body falls from the roof of the cavern, the peasant still screaming for him, kept in place by the Dai Li and Mai as the empty shell plummets.
“NO!”
A flash of blue in the corner of Mai’s vision, as water from the canals was yanked into the air, twisting like an angry serpent as someone jumped from an unseen ledge, springing along the watery arc to catch the Avatar mid-fall. They twist, body bending almost like Ty Lee’s as they shift both their balance and the limp Avatar remaining stubbornly upright while riding the writhing arch safely to the ground. They alight, and the water flares outward, fanning out in a spray reminiscent of great frilled fins, the rest still twisted up into the air, a thrashing tail of ever-forming and shattering ice spikes and flows. Ice also begins to shoot from the ground, as steam paradoxically weaves its way between each new jagged shard or watery flare. The being who is doing all this is hidden from Mai’s sight by the impressive display, and all she can see are flickers of black and white and blue like some inverse heat mirage, made even harder by the steam that just keeps rising.
Is it just her, or are the shadows in the steam moving?
Is the faint murmur of voices just her imagination?
“You dare…”
The voice rumbles like an oncoming storm, and every single hair on Mai’s body stands on end when she hears it.
“YOU DARE!”
The steam parts before them and Mai sees glowing blue markings, a fanged grinning mouth, and black, black, black pits for eyes. At their feet, the Avatar is held by the Watertribe girl–when did she get there?–with tears on her face and a glowing hand on his back, but Mai doesn’t bother with them, not when Azula responds to the enraged spirit, mouth set in a firm line.
“Yes! I dare! The Avatar was an enemy of the Firelord, and therefore needed to be stopped at any cost. It’s a shame you didn’t take my advice, but Father will be most pleased when I bring him both of your heads.”
Wait, Zuko? That was Zuko?
Azula launched a wave of blue fire that was swallowed by the still-present icy arch coming around and opening wide like some horrific maw, swallowing the fire and creating a heavier blanket of steam. Some of the Dai Li were caught up in it, their voices rising into frightful screams, only to cut off abruptly, the shadows within the steam–or was it fog–becoming more pronounced. Mai and the remaining Dai Li got clear as fast as they possibly could, even still Mai heard some more Dai Li being caught followed by eerie silence. Azula was still throwing fire, blocking and being blocked as she got into a safer position, while Zuko(?) remained in place over the Avatar and the girl.
Azula must have either finally found a safe enough position, or finally gotten fed up with running, because she skidded to a stop, lightning beginning to crackle around her fingers for a shot she couldn’t possibly miss, not if Spirit-Zuko didn’t want to leave the Avatar defenseless again. She didn’t get to finish the motions, as a massive bloom of orange fire forced her to jump away, and the Dragon of the West arrived spraying fireballs.
“Zuko, go!” He shouted, pointing in a direction Mai assumed was another exit “The Avatar will not survive long without care! Go! I will hold them!”
The Spirit-Zuko made an aborted motion as if he wanted to reach for him, to bring the old dragon with, to stay, but he didn’t, instead the blue markings glowed briefly brighter, and without so much as a word he gathered the Avatar and the girl to him, the clouds of steam and sharp ice pulled away and merged back into water, propelling the three up, up, up, and out of sight.
Azula’s rage-filled fire blazed after them, but she was too slow, and the old Dragon kept blocking her attacks until they were well and truly gone. Only then did he lower his arms and surrender. Azula sounded satisfied as she ordered the remaining Dai Li to take him to the palace dungeon until she could transport him home, but anyone who knew her could see the sharp fury still in her eyes.
Mai thought as she followed the procession of princess and agents to the cells, maybe there was something she could have done, maybe there was a way she could have helped Azula net her prize, a point where one of her knives could have made the difference, turned the tide. If maybe bringing Ty Lee could have altered the outcome. She wondered if Azula was thinking it.
Probably not.
It didn’t pay to wonder if bringing Mai or Ty Lee would change anything.
They weren’t cleverer than Dragons.
…
And it seems none of them were cleverer than Great Spirits.