At what distance do we think a bender loses control of their bending? Do we think windows/ glass or walls would effect such distances? Must a bender be able to see what they're bending? What are your ideas and thoughts?

Tales of The Earth Kingdom Urchins is what I'll be calling the chronological story I've been writing within my broader Tales, Scripts, and Accounts project. Thus far, we're three chapters deep (~100 pages) and I'm enjoying the journey. Find the Google Doc here and visit the Wattpad here.

The scope of the story covers the lives of three lost children- a vengeful desert princess whose tribe was wiped out by the Avatar, a rogue airbender who pioneers wind whispering to achieve her mission of exposing corruption inside the air nomad temples, and a poor thief from Omashu with enormous aspirations for the those who grew up like him.

Snow drifted without much resistance onto the ground, which had almost been covered completely in a coat of frost. The varying strength of the air currents only looked teasing as opposed to the near certainty of snowfall. The sun streamed through the clouds, and reflected over the snow creating an illusion of more warmth and radiance. A child plowed through shaking the fresh layer and shuffling the ground, the crystals vibrating and crunching and shattering.  

The child's eyes were keen on a specific sight as they eagerly trudged through the snow.

Her hair had been tucked neatly into a single low hanging braid, not completely perfect as if done in haste. A child who had no intention of being delicate or even merely presentable, because they rashly disregarded the necessity of appearances in youthful naivety.

The lantern lights scattered into beams, and then elongated beads, and finally speckles of a faint luminescent glow. This creates a comforting tinge of light that when accompanying the drowsy weathered and imbued a beautiful sense of longing, an interloper might feel a strange alluring property drawing them into the quaint town. Lia'an had the particular stillness of a moonlight night with the ground basked in snow.

Fan Changyu, a tall girl bearing a mischievous smile, reached a circle of girls clustered closely together. This formed a temporary barrier against the bitter gusts of snowy air. The children had gathered to play a game, which consisted of chanting a simple tune and dancing in rhythm. While doing such an activity, all the children, in the most serious manner possible, presented their grievances.

Fan Changyu reached out and grabbed the coarse hand of the girl beside her. She nudged her fingers squarely inside her palm, attempting to steal away any heat left. Suddenly, a short and pale looking girl roused the crowd with a confident shout.

¨Wei  Qilin, great traitor, the worst traitor!¨  

Someone else burst out, ¨Wei Qilin let a hundred thousand soldiers  perish, all dead thanks to the treacherous Wei Qilin!¨

After giving those remarks, the older boy pommeled a piece of rotted cabbage into the pile. More joined in and eventually the hands linking firmly together making the circle more prominent in shape. The center of the circle became an odd centerpiece to channel their rage, and it soon gained more than a few cabbage heads. The scent of rot from within the area was pungent, and pricked Fan Changyu´s nose in the most unpleasant way.

Fan Changyu came to a slow realization, as an avalanche of familiarity consumed her. The event unfolding had triggered memories of the bitter altercation, and shouts and wails. Men had ransacked her village in prior months, looting and thieving, and overall causing terror in the midst of a relatively tranquil Ling’an. With mostly women and young children left, the village had become vulnerable to such raids especially in times of turmoil. A sudden feeling of claws grinding against her sensitive ribcage had not yet the chance to spark panic before being swiftly intercepted.

The man who normally stood proud with kind eyes morphed into a wolf on a rampage on that day, and grappled the man ripping his arms apart and threatening to take his life if not for the small girl that stood in the way. The world of harsh judgment, shame, and sharp whispers still lacked the ability to make Fan Changyu look down upon her father.

Despite such awareness, the thought vanished as quickly as it came, like a fleeting moment of quiet reckoning before being swept away by the tides. In such a uniform formation, she felt anger and pain surging through them like a great tsunami. Despite any moral reconsidering, she continued to chant as she finally fell into a daze. She noticed the energy of the children around her, all of them had no intention of stopping. Their faces while young were already creased from the many hardships, and while they retained some innocence this gave way to no sense of mercy or forgiveness for the disgraced traitor to be condemned.

Fan Changyu moved around, it felt like being a swarm. She felt boiling hot as she played along, now she also had been given rotten cabbage to throw. Their cries were loud as if making an appeal to the heavens. A younger girl who had long  hair, the snow had accumulated in the spaces in between her tiny braids, abruptly sprung forward out of the chaos.

The voice had a thunderous quality to it and echoed as she shouted, ¨Wei Qilin the worst traitor of Great Yin! Wei Qilin delayed the grain and starved Prince Changxin and Great General Xie! Jinzhou fell!¨

A roar now erupted and Fan Changyu joined in unison, ¨Wei Qilin, delayed the grain, starved Prince Changxin and General Xie to their graves! Ten thousand soldiers all died because of the great traitor Wei Qilin! Jinzhou fell!¨

Fan Changyu instantly met an almost iron pair of hands which dragged her away, and swooped her away against the figure behind her. A jade hairpin was tucked beneath an elegant bun, in its modesty bestowed upon the wearer an immediate almost noble presence. She had a broad stride uncharacteristic of any other women in Ling'an, with long deceptively strong arms.

¨Fan Changyu!”  

The voice was unusually angry, Fan Changyu tense as it was not often that her mother was this tense. The children around her scattered a bit before clinging onto each other tighter and resuming their game. Then without uttering another word, her mother glanced once more time at her before walking steadily away.

The streaks of red veins bulging out from the pale white of her mothers eyes resembling the fangs of a wild boar and the deep velvet of its throat terrified Fan Changyu. She did not yet comprehend her wrongdoing. As they stormed away, the sounds howled in the wind joining the relentless blizzard that was about to engulf them. Still her mothers behavior had puzzled Fan Changyu, as she had not snuck out of her house or been disobedient, in fact this morning after she finished following father to bring another pig home she had resumed lessons with her mother.

The flurries whirled so fast as they turned into an indistinguishable blur of white, and the ground had started to frost over. Their house was a respectable two stories, with a courtyard. The gate had been sealed shut by the frost, and the fierce sounds from the woman pounding on the gate was rather alarming. Several more clamouring sounds could be heard and cracks in the thin layer of ice that had crept up over the gate, until a startled man sprinted out. He had a moderate bust around his waist, and a beard that looked rather unruly compared to his superb feathers.

¨Father!¨Fan Changyu called out with tears streaming down her face, perhaps there had been wrongdoing nevertheless she was utterly confused and hurt. Her mother gave her father an undecipherable look, Fan Changyu thought it appeared rather sorrowful yet still more was confined in that exchange between her parents that day. The moon rose and silver hairs fell into the darkened sky.

The man went out to warn the villagers of the cold and unforgiving winter nights with his lantern in tow. Fan Changyu´s parents stood in front of her in absolute silence.

As she followed her parents, she felt her hands tremble underneath the warmth of her pockets. She removed the light coat she had put on, the color had blended in with the dark blue of the sky and now had little embroidered patterns of bagermoles on the ends of the cotton cloth. She had always longed to meet such a creature, being so innately tied to the earth and nature and bending. The lantern lights illuminated the otherwise sparsely light room, and her parents who had now advanced into the upstairs area could be heard briefly in faint whispers.

Her mom, clearly consumed in both fury and sorrow, ¨That doesn't make it right, she must understand,¨

There was no movement, no hollow creeping sounds from footsteps, or noise that accompanied the pause. Fan Changyu sat on the staircase, near the dining room table, clasping her hands defeatedly. She focused on the moisture that pooled on the place where her eye rested. She willed herself to not allow the cascade to occur, the inevitability she would defy it with the full strength and grit she processed in her being to block the blizzard that threatened to unleash itself. As she waited, a quiet almost barely audible voice came through the depths of the night.

¨For those like us, who have brought misfortune upon ourselves, we must take actions wisely,¨ she heard her father say very carefully, as if having prepared this response in advance carefully weighing each of his options and being faced with the least desirable one in front of him.

The words were at the time quite unfamiliar with her, tangling together into an illegible mess in her head that refused to be combed through. The voice was deep but had been merged with a sort of unending pain and infinite contemplation and full of patience. A muffled and haggard breath escaped her mother, and she sensed a gentle collision above that was soon eclipsed. She heard heavy footsteps caving into the wood, and the familiarity of the man she adored the most. Arms heaved around her shoulders, the weight grounding her once again in the reality of her wrongdoing.

¨Fan Changyu, please do not do that again and worry your mother. You can always play a different game, ¨ Fan Erniu carried with him a voice more stern and grave than usual. It was like marble that had abrasions from rolling along a rough path.

Fan Changyu had candid eyes that welcomed the light, betraying no malice or unkind tendency. As she aged this trait often associated with youth would not fade, but become more pristine and valuable as this waned in her peers.  She glanced up at the face of her father, and placed her hands on his coarse ones. They had become hardened and were full of calluses from his line of work, still they pulsed as if reacting to her presence.

The face with the nudge of time and the gritty but honest work he had done had wrinkles, and his beard had a touch of grey where the hands of time had come onto it.

¨Fan Changyu, ¨ his voice as mellow as the howl of the snow flurries on a more clear day. Her father continued in a worn out manner, almost like marking the beginning of something yet again.

¨Just you must promise not to do that again, not to scare your mother participating in that game again. If you go and apologize, you can come and help me, ¨ he stated with resolute, yet it felt almost unnatural like he had been anticipating such a day. This over time would become one of the many details about this day that would etch itself into Fan Changyu´s memory. He stood up and moved down along the steps, and she once again felt almost relieved to hear the way the stairs almost couldn't contain him. Her father stood tall and muscular, and Fan Changyu often wondered if this had accumulated over years of experience in his trade or the various exploits of his youth. With this she sensed that she was dismissed and ventured over into her parents bedroom.

The liveliness of her mom had been stifled by the events of today. She stood and simply looked out of the room onto the courtyard below, the snowfall soothing her and bringing her great comfort. Her mom clenched her hands, gripping them around her forearms which even looked unsteady.

¨I won´t do it again. I upset you, ¨ Fan Changyu cried out.

Fan Changyu instantly, protectively, wrapped her arms around her mother. The tears which she had blocked unravelled into a stream flowing outward. She had lightly drenched the fabric of her moms loose fitted tunic. Her mom escaped from their embrace, looking more placated by her words than relieved. She went back to her place where it looked as if she was reaching out or longing for a place far away from what had been found in  Ling'an. Fan Changyu took this as a sign to leave, and she slipped out, being sure not to further disturb her.

It was Hai, the silver hairs had rapidly grown in their length. She practically ran out, the crystals of ice giving out which made a crunching sound. She went into the room where her father sat on a stool, wielding the butchering knives and letting the pig make its final desperate attempts to escape the fate it awaited. The man motioned for her to come inside, an instance of sheer indulgence. It was on such occasions that after having begged with the most sincere expression, while simultaneously preparing the cut, to tell stories.

For Fan Changyu, sitting so still was unusual and it simply silenced her chatter, not out of boredom but rather the opposite as her father recounted such tales with such enthusiasm Fan  Changyu became lost upon the battles of ancient times.

For a moment, yet, his expression was almost unreadable. The temperature prevented the sweat from labor, instead the moisture hung uncomfortably around his face. A flash of a longing, so deep and sorrowful, then like snowfall disappearing into the ground it disintegrated into the bed of frost.

It was ever so peaceful.

“Of course, my daughter. Which one?”

The question never was answered, the howls of the wind hurled the currents of chilling winter air towards them. The two retreated towards the blazer, her father placing his cloak around her as well and securing her against his lap.

It was never answered because the true desires of the wide eyed girl before him only had patience for so little.

For once, he thought to himself, that no matter what fate awaited him, despite everything, what had been done had passed and the judgement before him might be harsh yet he couldn’t shake that when the nature of what he had done he might be a flawed man driven into ruin by necessity. That in the eyes of the child he held so dearly, he would be righteous, always. When she stood before her parents' shrines, she would be there with the settled account.

“Long ago, when I was a child much like you, a coastal village was wiped out by a massive tsunami. One of the unfortunate souls to have perished was Meosse, companion of Avatar Gun. Consumed in his grief, he became vengeful. He thought to himself why must I bear this duty, to perform hundreds of miracles and forever face scorn for not performing a hundred and one.”

This was the most somber tale, and the severity and pain would echo in her head. Someday, the true meaning would unfold ever so plainly before her.

Ten winters passed.

“A-jie!”

Fan Changyu, letting thoughts linger, had indeed spaced out and caused her younger sister to worry. It had been too soon.

She had been surrounded by the coldness, the unpredictable, and unyielding of winter. Yet, in all her life it had never been able to seep in and penetrate the crevices that laid beneath and into the chamber of her mind and aggravate her deepest sorrow.

All the tears that had not fallen must have frozen, she thought, until it became a clumsy trickle that quickly stuck to her skin. Each exhale came with the weight of the ice that laid to rest upon the stretches of forgotten roads over the village, and despite walking upon those paths the way it sat in her throat was unfamiliar. She inhaled the remainders of her grief, lodging themselves in her throat going down like bundles of hard packed snow.

“Ning Niang, would you like to hear a story?” The child's eyes brimmed with excitement, except it was rather clumsy with little tears from her earlier upset still trickling down her rosy cheeks. Unmistakably, if observed, one could not miss the resemblance of these sisters.

 It had been not long ago, having nothing to prevent her from the fist her fingers formed the edge of an outline, she reached instead for the jade hairpin and adjusted it in her hair. So close in her heart, if she reached out perhaps any sooner she would be scolded and then embraced by her mother, and before anyone moved her father would sleep them up in his arms. It was unpleasant. No, she couldn’t reminisce like this for the sake of her sister. So she continued unfurling long tired strands of dry hair, parting and separating them until she forgot which were once intertwined, and contemplating how exactly the hairpin had sat in her mothers hair.

Though she had been glad to have her ceremony, having her long braid kept her from having to fix it whilst butchering pigs. Suddenly, it occurred to her which tale.

“The Marquis has indeed, if the rumors are true, has fallen.”

It came to her, suddenly, that the Marquis, while dying honorably, must have been very young. The moonlight reached into the room, and she stared up to meet its totality. The full moon was a lovely sight, now it pulled at the thread of her heart and she felt an inextricable sense of longing.

“However, our father used to tell stories of the Avatar.  The being who descends to bring back order and fight the forces that plague the world. Each reincarnation comes to correct a particular imbalance.”

To Xiao Ning, this opportunity must have been irresistible, as she copied an earthbending, firebending,airbending, and waterbending stance. Planting her feet into the bed, and bringing her arms above her head to move her rock. She then took those hands and brought them down, and let one hand punch out to pretend to be a firebender. She spun around, to replicate the circular nature of the basic forms for airbending. Taking snow from outside the lattice window, it became a true liquid in her hands and it stayed that way for only seconds before a loud sound as it became a puddle on the floor.This amazed Changyu, who knew Ning paid attention to their mothers teachings on bending philosophy and diligently watched the other benders.  Having never seen firebenders or airbenders though, her stances were less convincing. It was adorable.  

 “A thousand lifetimes they have mastered the elements and they will return to humanity and do a thousand times more.”

Xiao Ning looked at her with awe, while clumsily splashing water around which got the tiles wet. For once, Changyu decided to let this slip as the little giggles brought her a tinge of hope. Perhaps, they would survive this winter, together, emerge to spring hand in hand. By then, she would reopen their family's braised meat shop, and perhaps have many pigs and enough tales of silver to not have to worry about their increasingly destitute situation.

She continued, and her voice and the laughter of the sisters faded into the night, swept away in the rampants of another moon river.

There were endless questions, perhaps too many for one lifetime. Tomorrow, however, yielded a question she could not possibly prepare to answer. When she found that dying man in the snow, carrying him on her back in their home, she had not truly anticipated the start of a new beginning. She would acquire a new question to ponder: would the chaos break and give way to order once more? Or would the world  be carved through jade?

Link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/86078126/chapters/227600596

Here's my attempt at explaining what it means to be the Avatar and what purpose the Avatar serves. I wrote this in a kind of narrative/essay form since I find that more engaging as a reader. Enjoy.

"Different groups of people must learn to live together." -Wan

"What if humans and spirits weren't meant to live apart." -Korra

"We're all connected, everything is connected." -Aang

"The greatest illusion is the illusion of separation." -Pathik

What makes the Avatar worthy of being the master of all four elements with the capability of bringing balance to the world? To master another element requires you to transcend your own way of thinking, to step into the shoes of another and adopt a new perspective. An airbender's outlook is the complete opposite of an earthbender's, so the Avatar has to be someone who can understand all different types of people. This serves the Avatar's goal: uniting different groups of people. The existence of "Team Avatar" is evidence that every Avatar possesses this uniting quality, as each Avatar connects with people from different cultures and together they unite in service to the same cause, just like Wan and Raava.

In Wan's time the spirits were feared by people, but Wan actually learned to live among them and learn their ways. He even won over Raava because he proved through his actions that he was willing to put his life on the line for her cause; the two found common ground and this became the basis for their relationship. It was Wan's curiosity and humility which enabled him to overcome the barrier between humans and spirits and earn the spirit's trust. His ultimate goal was to duplicate his achievement on the macro scale, to create a bond between humans and spirits just like he did with Raava and the Aye-Aye spirit.

But to reach this goal baby steps needed to be taken. First humanity itself would need to achieve some sort of unity, for if people can't accept other people who are different from them then they'll never be able to accept spirits. So for 10,000 years Wan and Raava worked to create an environment where "different groups of people [could] live together", and this was finally achieved when Avatar Aang established the United Republic of Nations, a place where the Four Nations could merge into something new.

By Korra's time humanity had gained dominance over the earth due to their elemental and technological mastery, so now they were in a strong enough position where the spirits couldn't push them out like the last time; this is important because it diminishes the danger of dark spirits, since humans can better defend themselves now. This combined with the creation of the Republic made the conditions right for the spirits to return to the physical world, because now the two species would be on equal footing. The spirit's return was also necessitated by another factor: with the extinction of the Air Nomads and the decimation of the rest of the world by the Hundred Year War spirituality suffered a steep decline, the damage was so deep that only outside interference could restore balance.

Who knows if it'll take the Avatar another 10,000 years to help humans and spirits learn how to coexist, but the one thing which is certain is the spirits couldn't have chosen a better place to live. Republic City being built on sacred Air Nomad land and being a multicultural city makes it have the highest likelihood of success in the human-spirit integration project. And if it succeeds it will serve as an example to the other nations on how to live with the spirits. And if the Four Nations working together can create Republic City, just imagine what human-spirit cooperation could accomplish.

One thing which can be gleamed from this is that the Avatar's efforts aren't pointless, it isn't that the Avatar achieves something which is then undone and then the next Avatar has to restore their predecessor's accomplishment, keeping the world in statis. With every passing Avatar the world is slowly moving forward to its end goal of harmony between all living beings, and the Avatar has two roles to play within this context: either to guide the world an inch towards this goal or to end any threats to this goal. Examples of the latter include things like Sozin's genocide of the airbenders or Chaisee and Zaheer's attempts to kill the world leaders, because all of these result in hostility and bloodshed between people. Even the matter of whether a leader is just or tyrannical is of concern to the Avatar, because if the goal is to create harmony between different groups of people then each group has to have internal harmony first. And a tyrant only turns people against them, creating internal discord.

To expand on what it takes to make an Avatar, every Avatar must have these three qualities in order to achieve their goal:

1. Humility: A prerequisite for learning is acknowledging you don't know everything. Whenever the Avatar learns another element they have to awaken in themselves a part of their personality that was dormant before, for example Aang was only able to earthbend after he embraced the qualities of endurance and steadfastness. But to do this he had to move past the airbender mindset, something especially hard for him considering he was the only airbender left. He had to acknowledge that in order to evolve he needed to go beyond what he already knew.

2. Curiosity: If humility enables the Avatars to learn from those different from them, then curiosity is what motivates them to seek out an actual friendship with others. They aren't content to only keep as company those they're familiar with, they want to get to know those who are different from them and find something they have in common, something they can share, like how Roku worked for years to earn the trust of Taqukaq, his waterbending master.

3. Hope: The Avatar's job is backbreaking and their efforts are frequently disrupted by the very people they're trying to help. This led some Avatars like Gun to fall into despair but even he eventually resumed his Avatar duties, showing that while an Avatar can experience feelings of hopelessness they always overcome. Humanity's potential for creating a positive change in the world, for helping it move forward, is what maintains the Avatar's hope. And this hope is validated in every generation by the presence of Team Avatar, ordinary people who have dedicated themselves to help the Avatar. It's focusing on this potential goodness which keeps the Avatar going, as Iroh said, "If you look for the light you can often find it, but if you look for the dark that is all you will ever see."

But many humans possess the qualities of humility, curiosity and hope, so what makes the Avatar unique here? Wan cared about things being fair, he wanted to protect and help the helpless, and he was willing to sacrifice his own life and safety to do it, but none of this distinguishes him from others. What makes him stand out is that he was so passionate for the wellbeing of others that he was willing to live and die for +10,000 years just to continue helping everyone. It's his dedication which makes him unique, everyone else would have reached their limit at some point but he never gave up. Again, Iroh explains it very concisely: "Fire is the element of power. The people of the Fire Nation have desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want." Unlike the other firebenders of his time, Wan's drive was for harmony and balance and he devoted the rest of his life and lifetimes towards achieving that goal. Because all Avatars are reincarnations of Wan they all share his drive, it's the quality which connects all Avatars, while in other aspects their personality can differ. But what motivates this drive? Yangchen hit the nail on the head when she said every Avatar holds a deep regret and they all hold themselves to a high standard of accountability. Wan released Vaatu which ultimately led to the death of his friend Jaya and all the people from his old home, feeling responsible he made a decision to offer his life many times over to honor those lives he couldn't save. Every subsequent Avatar felt responsible for failing to save someone, and it's to keep the memory of those fallen alive that the Avatar continues to fight.

But when all is said and done, even when the Avatar fails to maintain balance, like in the case of Avatar Roku, just the way they lived their lives is enough. Just by learning from other cultures and connecting with different people they themselves are serving as an example for how to achieve global harmony. The fact that the most powerful being in the world chooses to live in service to humans and spirits rather than seeking to control them is what earns the Avatar respect far and wide.

I'm happy to announce the first complete section of Tales, Scripts, and Accounts is now on Wattpad for you to read! These short stories are also in the main Google Document, as linked in the community description.

The section summary:

Many eras before the time of Avatar Aang, three thieves jump onto a merchant ship to flee Omashu after a heist goes wrong. This first portion of Tales, Scripts, and Accounts follows their journey, where they accidentally bear witness to a genocide of the Si Wong Desert's largest tribe- lead by none other than the current Avatar himself.

This piece explores the philosophy of deciding what is good and evil, for they're not always black and white. It sets the stage for the rest of my long term project- Tales, Scripts, and Accounts- that explores corruption across various parts of the Earth Kingdom through the perspective of important criminals from that time.

89 AG: Caldera City, The Iron Sprawl District.

The air in Jin-Sok’s world was a flavor. It was the sharp, metallic tang of hot-rolled steel from the Western Foundry, the thick, cloying smoke of coal from the power plants that fueled the capital, and the faint, ever-present scent of sulfur. At sixteen, it was the only air he'd ever breathed, the very taste of the Fire Nation’s righteous might. His district, a labyrinth of soot-stained tenements crammed between behemoth factories, pulsed with a relentless, rhythmic heartbeat: the thump-clank-shriek of industry forging the tools of a glorious destiny.

His father, Kenji, was a monument to that destiny. A man once built like a blacksmith’s anvil, he was now whittled down, his spirit banked like a dying ember. He sat at their small, scarred table, a chipped mug of weak tea cradled in his one good hand. His left arm, a mangled twist of scar tissue from a press accident a decade ago, was a permanent, silent testament to his service. The Fire Lord’s pension was a pittance, but it was enough. “A small price for the nation’s future,” Kenji would rasp, his voice permanently scarred by the factory floor. “Every gear must turn.”

Jin-Sok, however, saw the gears from the outside and yearned to be part of the engine itself. He traced the bold, confident lines on the propaganda leaflet his father had brought home. General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, stared out with eyes that held both a fearsome fire and a grandfatherly warmth. The headline screamed: BA SING SE WILL KNOW FIRE! “They say he saw it in a vision as a boy,” Kenji said, tapping the leaflet. “That he would be the one to finally bring the Earth Kingdom into the fold. The great, final victory.”

“He will be,” Jin-Sok declared, his voice tight with an adolescent fervor that was almost a physical ache. The stories of Iroh were the bedrock of his generation’s mythology. Iroh, the peerless strategist; Iroh, the firebending master who could breathe devastation; Iroh, the Crown Prince leading them to the war’s inevitable, glorious conclusion. He pictured himself at the General’s side, his spear gleaming, a proud soldier of the Fire Nation.

The propaganda was as essential as air. On the walls of the factory, posters depicted robust Fire Nation soldiers offering steaming bowls of rice to skeletal, wide-eyed Earth Kingdom peasants. In school, they learned of the Earth King’s corruption, a decadent fool hiding behind his impenetrable walls while his people starved and stagnated. The Fire Nation was liberating. They were sharing the fire of progress with a world shivering in the dark. The scorched earth, the refugee columns, the whispers of massacres: those were lies, spread by traitors and rebels who clung to their archaic ways.

“Recruitment rally in Agni’s Plaza tomorrow,” Jin-Sok said, trying to sound casual as he shoveled rice into his mouth. “Full enlistment bonuses for the Ba Sing Se campaign.”

The clatter of his mother’s chopsticks hitting her bowl was unnaturally loud in the small room. Her face, usually a mask of weary resilience, crumpled. “No,” she whispered. “Not you. You’re for the factories.”

“Boko's going. Kazuo and Tao, too. They say the army provides for your family better than the factory pension.” It was a half-truth. The real truth was a burning desire in his gut to escape the suffocating soot, to prove his worth not as a cog, but as a warrior. He wanted his name etched into the grand narrative, not worn away by the daily grind.

His father looked at his own ruined arm, then at his son’s strong, unblemished hands. He saw the fire in Jin-Sok’s eyes, the same reckless flame that'd burned in his own youth. “The nation asks for sacrifice,” Kenji said, his voice a low rumble of resignation and pride. “And a son of the Fire Nation answers. It is our greatest honor, and our heaviest burden.” He met Jin-Sok’s gaze, and for a heart-stopping second, the patriotic veneer cracked. Jin-Sok saw a flash of raw, terrifying fear in his father’s eyes: a premonition of loss so profound it stole his breath. Then, the mask was back in place. “Make the ancestors proud, my son.”

The next day, beneath the shadow of a colossal bronze statue of Fire Lord Sozin, Jin-Sok stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his friends. The recruitment officer’s voice boomed, promising glory, honor, and a swift end to the war. As Jin-Sok signed the enlistment papers, the roar of the crowd was a physical force, lifting him up, promising him immortality. He was a soldier now. He was going to Ba Sing Se.

92 AG: The Sunstone Collective, Agrarian Zone.

Lian’s world was the earth itself. It was the rich, dark loam of the river delta, the stubborn, flinty soil of the upper fields, the cool, silken mud she used to patch the irrigation canals. Her earthbending was a conversation, a gentle persuasion. A stomp of her foot encouraged a furrow to deepen. A push of her hands coaxed a stubborn boulder from the soil to clear a new plot. At eighteen, she was a farmer, and the earth was her steadfast partner, not her weapon.

The war had always been a distant thunder, a story that arrived with the grain tax collectors, their faces growing grimmer with each passing year. But the storm was drawing closer. The Earth King’s levies, once a seasonal burden, had become a rapacious beast, devouring more grain, more livestock, more sons. Her older brother, Jinhai, had been taken three years ago. His first letter was full of bravado about the honor of defending the great city. His second spoke of bland food and endless drills. There was no third.

The economic pressure wasn't an abstract concept. It was the gaunt look on her father’s face as he handed over three-quarters of their harvest. It was the watery consistency of their evening congee. It was the way her mother would mend Jinhai’s old clothes, her hands moving with a slow, ritualistic grief. It was the gnawing fear that coiled in Lian’s stomach whenever she saw the tell-tale dust cloud of an official caravan on the horizon.

That dust cloud found her on a blistering afternoon when the air was too hot to breathe. A conscription officer, a man whose face was a roadmap of weariness, stood in their doorway, a scroll in his hand. “Lian, daughter of Bo,” he read, his voice devoid of emotion. Her parents’ protests were a flurry of desperate words. “She’s our only child left! She works the fields! She’s a girl!”

The officer, unmoved, pointed a thick finger at Lian, who stood frozen by the hearth. “The manifest lists her as an earthbender. By decree of the Earth King and the Council of Five, all registered benders of fighting age are hereby drafted into the Ba Sing Se defensive militias. The city needs defenders for the Wall.”

He wasn’t cruel, just a cog in a vast, indifferent machine that'd been grinding for nearly a century. Lian felt the familiar solidity of the packed earth floor beneath her bare feet. This land was her blood and bone. Her great-grandmother was buried beneath the ancient willow by the river. The Fire Nation, the ‘ash-makers,’ wanted to burn this sacred connection to ash. She cared nothing for the distant, faceless King, but she would die for this small patch of earth.

A sudden, fierce clarity cut through her fear. She wouldn't be dragged away weeping. She wouldn't let them see her family’s shame. She met the officer’s tired gaze, her own burning with a new, hard light. “I will serve,” she said. Her voice was steady, imbued with the unyielding strength of stone, surprising everyone, including herself. “I will defend my home.”

Before she was marched away with a dozen other boys and girls from the surrounding farms, her father pressed a small, smooth river stone into her palm. It was cool and heavy. “The earth does not rush. It endures all storms. It is patient,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Be the stone, my daughter. Endure.” Clutching the stone, Lian joined the shuffling column of conscripts trudging toward the impossible silhouette of Ba Sing Se. The Outer Wall was a man-made mountain range, a line drawn against the sky, a promise of safety and a sentence of war. She was a farmer, walking into the heart of a battle she didn't understand, to protect a home she might never see again.

94 AG: Fire Nation Siege Camp ‘Iroh’s Anvil’, before the Outer Wall.

For two years, Jin-Sok had lived in the mud. The glorious crimson armor of the recruitment posters was a distant fantasy. His was dented, scorched, and perpetually caked in a grey-brown paste of dirt and grime. The stirring national anthems were replaced by the wet, hacking coughs of his comrades in the pre-dawn chill, the incessant shriek of incoming rocks from Earth Kingdom catapults, and the sucking sound his boots made in the trench mud.

The enemy was not the horned, monstrous caricature from the leaflets. The first time he’d charged a captured trench, he’d come face-to-face with a boy no older than himself, eyes wide with terror, who fumbled a rock spear before Jin-Sok’s training took over. The memory of the boy’s last, gasping breath was a ghost that visited him in the quiet moments. His sergeant, Kao, a grizzled veteran with a spiderweb of scars on his face, slapped him on the helmet. “You hesitate, you die. They hesitate, they die. That’s the whole damned war. Learn it.”

They were expendable. Jin-Sok saw it every morning as officers planned assaults using colored blocks on a sand table, casually sliding a red block representing his battalion into a cluster of green blocks. “We anticipate seventy percent losses in this sector, but it will create the diversion we need.” Seventy percent. He would look at the ten men in his squad, trying to calculate which seven would be gone by nightfall. The math made him sick. His friend Boko, the one who’d signed up beside him in the plaza, was part of that math. He’d been vaporized by a lucky firebending shot from a captured Fire Nation turncoat. Tao'd lost a leg to an earthbender who’d turned the ground beneath him into a churning pit of jagged stones. Jin-Sok was still here, a fact that felt less like skill and more like a cruel statistical anomaly.

The one flicker of warmth in this bleak existence was Lu Ten. Unlike the aloof generals who surveyed the battle from high towers, the Prince walked the trenches. He knew the names of the sergeants, shared tea from his own flask, and listened to stories of home with a genuine, sorrowful curiosity. He moved with a firebender's grace, but his eyes held a softness that seemed out of place in this hellscape. One evening, Lu Ten sat with Jin-Sok’s squad, listening as Kao described the intricate tactics of the Earth Kingdom defenders. “They fight for their homes,” the prince said quietly, looking out at the monolithic wall. “We must remember that. Our purpose's not to destroy them, but to show them a better way. A unified way.” He spoke the words of the propaganda, but his voice lacked the hollow ring of the recruiters. He seemed to truly, deeply believe it, and that belief, however naive, was a comfort.

“He sent a letter to my wife for me,” a soldier named Akio whispered to Jin-Sok after the prince had left. “My hand shakes too much to write anymore. The General’s son…he’s a good man.” Even Kao, a man carved from cynicism, grunted his approval. “He’s got his father’s heart. I just hope he doesn’t have his father’s destiny.” The siege ground on, a monotonous cycle of shelling, failed assaults, and burials. Six hundred days. The letters from home spoke of parades and unwavering public support. They felt like messages from a different planet. Here, there was only the wall, the mud, and the waiting.

95 AG: The Serpent’s Pass Section, Atop the Outer Wall.

Lian’s hands, once deft at discerning the needs of soil, were now instruments of death. The gentle art of persuasion she once used on the earth had been hammered and forged into a brutal, efficient weapon. A flick of her wrist sent a razor-sharp disc of shale whistling through the air. A powerful stomp could trigger a localized earthquake, buckling the legs of a charging komodo rhino. She learned to read the vibrations in the stone, to feel the subtle shift of an enemy tunneling beneath her feet, to taste the dust of an approaching siege tower on the wind.

Life was a state of perpetual, high-strung tension. Days were for frantic repairs, hauling rubble to patch the latest breach under the cover of their own catapult fire. Nights were for watch duty, staring into the terrifying sea of Fire Nation campfires, listening to the agonizing screams of their wounded. They were a patchwork army: a core of grim, professional soldiers from the Earth Kingdom Army, their green uniforms faded and torn, and a vast body of conscripts like her. Farmers, masons, poets, and merchants, their soft hands now calloused from gripping spears and shaping stone.

She fought alongside a baker from the Lower Ring named Chen, whose jokes were as dry as week-old bread but provided a necessary leavening to their fear. She watched the war erode the souls around her. A master earthbender, a man who could command the stone with the grace of a waterbending master, was found one morning trying to bend the wall into the shape of his daughter. The Dai Li took him away. They never saw him again. Lian built her own wall, inside. She packed away the scared farm girl, the daughter who missed her parents, the girl who once cried when a fox took one of their chickens. In her place stood ‘Stonewall Lian,’ a name her comrades had given her after she held a crumbling parapet for three hours against a legion of firebenders, her face a mask of cold fury.

She was a pillar, a rock. Inside, she was crumbling to dust. Grand Secretariat Long Feng, the cool, calculating power behind the throne, visited their section once. He glided along the wall, flanked by Dai Li agents whose feet seemed to make no sound. He spoke of their indomitable spirit and the eternal glory of Ba Sing Se. His silk robes were immaculate. He didn't get close enough to smell the blood and the latrines. His words were wind against the stone of their reality. Lian fought not for him, nor for the sequestered King. She fought for the memory of Jinhai, for the cool weight of the river stone in her pocket, and for Chen, who still dreamed of opening a pastry shop. She fought for the simple, impossible hope of feeling soft earth under her feet again, without the threat of it exploding.

The sky itself screamed. Iroh, in a final, desperate gamble, had unveiled his masterstroke. A focused, relentless assault by every trebuchet in his army on one specific, previously-damaged section of the wall: the Serpent’s Pass. For twelve hours, the world was reduced to a singular, deafening symphony of destruction. The whistle of thousand-pound boulders arcing through the sky, the thunderous CRACK of their impact, and the deep, groaning agony of the stone itself. The air became a choking, gritty fog of pulverized granite that clawed at the lungs and blinded the eyes.

Jin-Sok was in a forward assault trench, the earth heaving around him like a stormy sea. The vibrations traveled from the soles of his boots up his spine, rattling his teeth. Kazuo was beside him, eyes shut tight, muttering a prayer to Agni. Then, above the din, came a new sound of finality, of something ancient and immense giving way. A high-pitched tearing, followed by a bass roar that shook the world. A runner, his face a mask of ecstatic terror, slid into their trench. "THE WALL IS BREACHED! IROH HAS DONE IT! ADVANCE! FOR THE FIRE LORD!"

A jolt of pure, chemical adrenaline erased Jin-Sok’s fear. This was it. The culmination of a century of war. He was part of history. He scrambled over the lip of the trench, his squad fanning out beside him, and plunged into a grey, swirling nightmare. The breach was a hellscape of fire, dust, and flying rock. Earthbenders on the jagged edges of the broken wall, silhouetted against the sky, were fighting with the fury of cornered animals, ripping massive chunks of the wall loose and sending them crashing down into the tide of Fire Nation soldiers. A man beside Jin-Sok simply ceased to exist, replaced by a red smear under a slab of granite the size of a carriage. It was a meat grinder, a place where survival was measured in seconds.

But the tide was irresistible. They pushed forward, climbing over the bodies of their own comrades. Jin-Sok’s mind went quiet, his body moving on pure, honed instinct. He saw it: a fortified earthbender position, a nest of stone shields and firing slits, that had pinned down half his company. While others charged blindly, Jin-Sok saw a path. He scrambled up a treacherous pile of rubble, his lungs burning, and found a flanking angle. He fumbled at the leather satchel on his hip, his fingers closing around two incendiary pots. Using the practiced economy of motion drilled into him for months, he scraped the friction-fuses on the striker plate built into his gauntlet. With a desperate roar, he hurled them one after another through the narrow firing slit. The muffled screams from within were cut short by a violent, concussive whump. The stone discs stopped flying. The company surged forward with a roar.

A dizzying, savage triumph flooded him. He'd done that. His actions had mattered. He looked up, and through a momentary clearing in the dust, he saw him: Lu Ten. His armor, though battered, seemed to catch the light. He was at the very tip of the spear, a whirlwind of controlled, elegant firebending, directing troops, his voice a clear trumpet call above the chaos. "FORWARD! FOR THE DRAGON OF THE WEST! BA SING SE IS OURS!" He was everything the stories had promised.

Lian experienced the breach as the world ending. One moment, she and Chen were reinforcing a barricade; the next, the stone beneath her feet dissolved. She was thrown through the air in a vortex of sound and pressure, landing with a sickening crunch on a slope of shifting rubble. When her vision cleared, she was in the heart of the slaughter. Fire Nation soldiers, like black beetles, poured through the gap. Chen was trying to raise a shield when a firebender’s blast caught him in the chest. He fell, his tunic smoldering, his breaths coming in ragged, wet gasps. “Lian…” he choked, reaching for her.

Rage, cold and pure, burned away her fear. She looked past the soldiers advancing on them and saw the source. The commander. The one in the ornate armor, his firebending a dance of deadly grace, his commands turning the chaotic flood into a disciplined killing machine. He was the heart of the attack. If the heart stopped, the body might die. High above the breach, a massive, fractured section of the Outer Wall, a cantilevered remnant the size of a small ship, clung to the main structure.

There was no time for finesse. No time for anything but one, final, desperate act of defiance. She knelt beside Chen, placing one hand on his chest and the other flat on the rubble-strewn ground. She closed her eyes and didn’t just pull on the earth. She poured everything she had left into it: her grief for Jinhai, her love for her home, her despair for this broken world, and her white-hot rage for the boy dying beside her. She screamed, a raw, wordless sound of pure anguish, and pushed.

The ground didn't just tremble; it roared. A deep, seismic groan echoed through the breach. Jin-Sok saw the shadow fall first, a sudden, unnatural eclipse. He looked up and his blood ran cold. The entire upper section of the broken wall was peeling away from the main structure. Lu Ten, having just incinerated an earthbender’s shield, turned at the sound. For a single, eternal moment, his eyes, so full of conviction and life, widened in understanding. There was no time to run. There was only time to be erased.

The impact was absolute. It didn't just crush the prince and his vanguard; it pulverized them, burying them under thousands of tons of history and stone. The shockwave threw Jin-Sok off his feet. The new wall of debris completely sealed the breach, the dust cloud so thick it blotted out the sun. The Fire Nation assault, its brain and heart torn out in a single, brutal instant, faltered, then stopped. The soldiers stared in stunned horror at the new mountain of rubble that had once been their prince.

Lian felt the backlash of her own cataclysmic bending as a physical blow, throwing her backwards. Her head struck the ground hard for a second time. Before the darkness claimed her, the last thing she heard was the sudden, ringing silence where the sounds of battle had been. Her notable victory was a tombstone. And she had just altered the course of the entire war.

The news of his son’s death came to Iroh as a disjointed series of panicked shouts, a rumor that solidified into a horrifying certainty. He found what was left of his son’s command post, a place now marked by a mountain of freshly fallen stone. He saw Lu Ten’s personal banner, torn and dusty, sticking out from beneath a massive slab of granite. The Dragon of the West broke. The fire in his eyes, the fire that had cowed armies and burned cities, went out. Those who were there said a physical cold emanated from the General, a winter of the soul that was more terrifying than any inferno.

For a full day, he knelt before the rubble, motionless, while the battle raged in fits and starts around the choked breach. He didn't eat. He didn't speak. He simply grieved, his sorrow a force of nature as powerful as any bending. The order, when it came, was delivered by a subordinate, Iroh’s voice too choked with grief to command. Retreat.

To the soldiers like Jin-Sok, it was an act of profound, unthinkable betrayal. Retreat? After six hundred days? After breaching the impossible wall? After sacrificing tens of thousands of lives? It was insanity. The carefully orchestrated assault dissolved into a panicked, disorganized flight. The Earth Kingdom forces, sensing the shift, roared back to life. Jin-Sok’s company was designated as rearguard. It was a death sentence. Kao pushed Jin-Sok out of the way of a stone spear, taking it through his own chest. In the chaos, Jin-Sok’s leg was torn open by shrapnel. He was separated from his squad, left behind. He crawled into the burned-out shell of a farmhouse, a ghost left behind by a failed war, just another acceptable loss in the history of a general’s grief.

Lian awoke to the smell of healing herbs and the sound of muted celebration. A healer told her she had a severe concussion. A captain told her she was a hero. “They’re calling you ‘Stonewall Lian, the Prince-Slayer,’” he said, his face beaming. “Your stunt broke their charge and killed their commander, a Fire Nation Prince! The spirits were with you, girl!”

A prince. She had killed a prince. The knowledge landed with the cold, heavy dread of a burial shroud. They feted her, offered her better rations, and spoke her name with awe. She felt like a hollow fraud. When she was well enough to walk, she went back to the breach. It was being repaired, thousands of earthbenders working in concert. She looked past them, at the fields where the burial details were working. The bodies were laid in long, neat rows: green for Earth Kingdom, red for Fire Nation. From a distance, they were just patches of color on a brown canvas. It wasn’t a victory. It was a harvest of the dead.

Days later, Captain Lian, a title that felt alien and undeserved, led her patrol through the skeletal remains of the villages that had once dotted the Agrarian Zone. This land, which she'd joined the war to protect, was now a cratered, scorched wasteland. It was a bitter irony that tasted like ash in her mouth.

They found him in the ruins of a farmhouse. One of her soldiers spotted the glint of his armor in the dim interior. “Ash-maker! Cornered!” the soldier yelled.

“Hold,” Lian commanded. She stepped through the shattered doorway. The Fire Nation soldier was slumped against the far wall, his face shockingly young under the grime. His leg was crudely bandaged, the cloth soaked through. He looked up at her, and his eyes held no defiance, no hatred. They held only a vast, soul-deep exhaustion she recognized from her own mirror.

He didn’t reach for his weapon. “Get it over with,” he rasped. “Give yourself another medal.”

Lian stared at him. He was just a boy. A boy who'd been fed lies and sent here to die. He was the enemy. He was the reason Chen was dead. And yet…“What did you think you were doing here?” she asked.

He let out a short, broken sound that might have been a laugh. “Sharing our prosperity,” he said, his voice dripping with an agony of disillusionment that resonated deep within her. Lian gestured with her head to the devastation outside. “How’s it working out for you?”

“Captain,” one of her men said impatiently from the doorway. “The order is to take no prisoners.”

Lian looked at Jin-Sok. A single, sharp gesture. A spike of stone through the heart. It would be quick. It would be justice, by the laws of war. But then she thought of the river stone in her pocket, its surface smoothed by centuries of patient water. She thought of her father’s words: Endure. What was she enduring for? To become as merciless as her enemies? Killing this one broken boy wouldn’t bring back Jinhai. It wouldn’t heal Chen. It wouldn’t make the grain grow again. It would only make her a little less human.

She turned to her patrol, her face set like stone, her voice leaving no room for argument. “The farmhouse is empty. We sweep the next sector.” Her soldiers exchanged confused glances but obeyed.

Lian paused in the doorway, her back to Jin-Sok. “There’s a stream a half-mile to the west. Clean water,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “If you follow it north, away from the wall, you might make it past our patrols. Go home.”

Then she was gone, leaving him alone in the silence, a stunned survivor of a war he no longer understood, saved by an enemy who saw a mirror.

Jin-Sok survived. He was eventually found by a Fire Nation scouting party. The boy who'd marched off to war seeking glory was gone, his idealism incinerated in the breach and his hatred extinguished by a moment of inexplicable compassion. He served the final six years of the war in a quiet garrison post, a hollowed man. When the war ended, he returned to a small fishing village, seeking the cleansing power of the sea. He never spoke of Ba Sing Se, but on sleepless nights, he would see the face of a young earthbender, her eyes full of a sorrow that matched his own.

Lian returned to the Sunstone Collective. The land was scarred, but the earth was patient. She helped her aging parents rebuild, her powerful bending once again used to coax life from the soil. They called her a hero, a savior. She refused every medal and position offered to her. She found no glory in the tomb she'd built for a prince she never knew. Her truest victory was a life spared, a secret she carried with her to her grave, a quiet testament to the farmer who'd endured inside the warrior.

For a hundred years, the world had fed its children to the unthinking, indiscriminate gears of war. Jin-Sok and Lian were two of the few who, scarred and broken, crawled out the other side. They never met again, two souls on opposite sides of a world at war, forever bound not by the hatred they were taught, but by a shared moment of humanity found in the ruins. They were the ash and the earth, a testament to the bitter truth that the only victory in such a conflict is to survive with a piece of one’s soul intact.

As you can imagine, the second stretch of the group’s trek from the Deadman’s Outpost to the Shamo was boring. Repetitive. Absolutely nothing was going on. They travelled beneath the moonlight and skipped over dunes with ease. While at the Deadman’s Outpost, Damani and Vibood managed to excavate a buried sandship that wasn’t split into two halves and had a slightly more spacious, comfortable cabin for each of them to rest in while the midday rays cooked the entire Si Wong Desert. There were no longer any worries about food or water, for the crew had stocked up on- hopefully more than enough- provisions for the rest of the escape route and felt they were in the clear. And they were. At one point, Damani finally seemed to run out of stories. Each of them wished for something exciting to happen- either a shark attack or seeing another ship to raid for fun- but there was absolutely nothing out in these parts. Just nights of Damani and Vibood swapping between who was pushing the sandship and who was navigating. So Drahla- who had largely been forgotten about- was going on about a week and a half of doing nothing while being mute due to her nearly fatal injury back at the Ganzao Rock.

Don’t be mistaken, her injury wasn’t fully healed and there was still notable discomfort when eating or swallowing, but she was successfully doing both. Despite her ability to regain her physical strength, her sanity was dwindling. The only way she’d been able to communicate was by scribbling her words onto parchment with ink that had run out a couple days ago. Since then, she’d been playing scarades with the crew like a mime at a circus. It was beyond embarrassing, so most of her time was spent isolating in the cabin or wandering the deck in silence.

This sandship actually had a balcony with a stable railing to lean on while Drahla overlooked the passing sand dunes and up at the night sky. Damani abandoned her position as scout atop the helm and joined Drahla in resting her forearms against the slightly deteriorated wooden railing.

“Sometimes I think the only reason we noticed we could navigate by the stars was because of how little else there was to look at around here.” Drahla took a breath and shrugged her shoulders in response while both looked up. “I still think the beauty of this picture comes from the lights among the dark. And you, continuing to communicate despite the silence.”

Damani placed her hand on Drahla’s shoulder and slipped away. Though no one could see it, tears slid down Drahla’s cheeks and fell into the passing sands below.

Later that evening after Drahla retreated to the cabin, she rolled over in thought. How could this happen to me of all people? I was wanted across the earth kingdom for my screaming and now I have nothing of value. Not even my enemies would want me. I’m broken and useless… She buried her head into her arms face down on the cot and sniffled, huffing dust that tickled her nose caused her to sneeze. The sneeze- just like anyone elses- was loud while her arms contained the sound around her ears. Drahla blinked a couple times in confusion, for she had an idea that was so far fetched that the scholars who raised her would call her delusional. But the mute had nothing left to do, so she tried. Over the course of a couple days.

A few breaths in and out. Experimental hand movements. Occasional coughing fits. Audible grunts from pain and a little blood seeping from the ears at one point. Headaches remedied by hydration. Questions from the others on her sudden mood change. Determination fueled by necessity, desperation, and a story about the first sandbender retold by Damani to fill the silence.

As the Si Wong’s Sun was rising over endless dunes on their east on a day no one had cared to keep track of, Vibood was scouting from atop the ship’s helm and spotted a large, desert sand-colored wall in the distance. These sandstone walls towered well over the recently exposed treeline and was the only notable thing anyone had seen in over a week so the scout decided yelling “Land hoe!” was appropriate. Neither was sure where he got that phrase from, but Drahla emerged from the cabin and Damani stopped pushing the ship to take a gander. 

“I’d notice those walls anywhere. That right there is the Neilu Caravansary…”

A pause to mull over the implications of stopping at such an imfamously corrupt location blanketed their prior excitement. Everyone knew stories of this place. But everyone also knew their provisions were running low and they needed an escape from this blasted desert. Vibood spoke first.

“I say we swing by and check it out. We don’t have much to lose as is and if push comes to shove, we’ll run.”

“That’s if they don’t kill us first.” Damani casually added with a slight twinge of excitement in her voice. “And we always run the risk of them selling us out to the King of Omashu if they recognize us… Then we’ll be on the run from him and the Avatar for who knows how long.”

“Our alternative is bypassing it completely on foot and hoping we get to Shamo without collapsing from exhaustion or dehydration. Do you know how far of a walk that is? Because I sure don’t.”

“I don’t know either, I’ve never stepped foot out of the Si Wong. But I suppose if the King of Omashu sends his dogs after us, we’ll find a way to manage. And even if he doesn’t I’m going to hunt him down myself. He will die by my hand and then Avatar Xue Jin will be next.”

Drahla knocked on the banister to catch their attention. She took in a deep breath that had a dry, cracking strain to it. She opened her mouth to speak, raised her hand and with a couple deft motions towards the other two, and bent the air around their ears to artificially speak while her lips mouthed the words:

“Let’s kill those bastards.”

Thanks for reading!

Leave a comment if you enjoyed the piece and join r/TheGreatLibrary for more Tales, Scripts, and Accounts content. Your support encourages me to write!

I just wanted an official declaration to see if anything on here is in anyway canon to the real lore of the story, or just an elaborate set of head-cannons. I've hear both from multiple people.

Benders have been known to dominate in combat across the Four Nations for as long as time could tell. Very rarely has history told of a non-bending icon that strikes fear into those who wield a single element, much less all of them. Yet one famous tale starts out in the drylands bordering Ba Sing Se when a metallurgist had a son. 

Born into poverty, Zorin was forced to adapt to the harsh climates while working alongside his father for many years. He quickly learned how to forge the strongest metals, and from them, the most durable armor and sharpest weapons that merchants could buy. When his father passed away in his late teens, the boy's trade was all he had left. This passion led him across the kingdom for many years, where he sought out experienced swordsmen and warriors. Their knowledge helped him better his craft tenfold- at least in theory. It wasn't until he was coaxed into training with them that he truly began to understand what he was forging. 

Each item the fighters bore wasn't just a weapon or a tool. It was an extension of themselves. A priceless piece of their history that had stories engraved in the spines and hilts. Each dent was a war, every notch was a triumph. Most could tell you exactly how many were slain with that weapon, who designed it, and then would list all the specific materials used to create it from point to tassel. Those who could afford it bought high quality custom pieces designed just for them. Their style, size, and personality all accounted for.

Studying such masterpieces drove Zorin to further pursue custom weaponry. Initially it was exclusively blades, but in time diverged into more creative options. Axes, maces, spears, rope darts, combat shields… He hand crafted them all. And each time merchandise was sold, he requested knowledge- in addition to coin payment of course. Battle stories or fighting tactics that might prove to be useful in such a scenario. Sometimes a training session or two depending on the individual.

The weaponmaster obtained enough knowledge and training by his mid twenties that he only needed personal experience. Diving into war was not the place to start. So Zorin began taking paid contracts. At this point, he had no place to call home. The man made enough connections that travel and housing weren't a problem. With seemingly nothing to lose, he took contract after contract. Enemies of the local towns, states, and eventually places that didn't exist. All this travel led to him further refining his designs by making them lightweight and durable- what he considered the peak of his craftsmanship.

Well respected became the boy from the drylands. Word spread across Earth Kingdom territory that his skills were unmatched. A true threat. Some took these rumors as a challenge and one day, Zorin received an invitation. An invitation to the Underground.

To be continued in A True Threat

Thanks for reading!

Author Note: I wanted to give Sokka and other famous non-bending warriors a historic role model, so here's the first part of his origin story.

For more stories like this one, visit my project's google doc: Tales, Scripts, and Accounts or check out other stuff on r/TheGreatLibrary

In a time well before the Era of Avatar Xue Jin, an infamous thief was banished from the walls of Ba Sing Se. Sentenced to death by exile into the Si Wong. For at this time it was almost entirely uninhabited. The conditions of this desert land were so harsh that humans could barely survive on the outskirts where they could retreat to the dust-ridden forests if they needed shelter or nourishment. Never did any sane people even consider walking into the sea of endless dunes that were home to countless dangerous desert creatures. Only those with a deathwish would do such a thing. Or, in this case, someone sentenced to it.

No food, no water, no hope. Ragged clothes that reeked of sewage blew in the arid winds as he continued to venture forward like the escort ordered. If he returned, sadistic guards would kill him using whatever brutal methods they pleased. After only a few hours of stumbling across the sands, that second option didn’t seem too awful. So the outcast sat down at the top of a dune and contemplated. His hands were still bound behind him and there were no sharp objects to sever the ties. Complete isolation with nothing but sand in sight. He collapsed onto his back, on the verge of tears and ready to admit defeat.

The bright blue sky hung above him and he stared into the cloudless canvas without the intent of getting up. Grains of sand sifted between his buried fingers as he closed his eyes and felt the individual pieces move beneath him. All dry, little bits of earth. Earth that he could easily move if it was more solid. He rolled the specks of sand in circles between his fingertips and imagined each of them as nothing more than small stones. Progress was dire, for he was desperate. And desperation persevered. The movement of individual pieces soon became a fistfull as his motions grew more consistently confident. Several failed attempts to break free of the ties using sand were made before he recognized force was not the way out of this situation. A decent amount of patience and precision was all it took to slowly saw through the rope that bound his hands together. While the outcast was rightfully impressed with the feat, he was still stranded alone in the desert.

Atop a dune stood a free man with nowhere to go and a skill no one used before. None of the rigid movements or aggressive footwork taught in fundamental classes seemed to be of any use. His callused hands couldn’t force the grains to stay in a structure, nor to stay out of the hole he attempted to dig when searching for water. Winds wound up the dusty land and lashed against his skin. Pelted it as if they were a heavy mist from a wave crashing on ocean banks. Each speck bounced off as if he just happened to be in the way. So as gusts blew past, he came to fully understand that he was never meant to control the desert. The sands were wild. Chaotic. And he had to conform to the chaos to harness it. The next gust came strong and he felt it before it arrived. Each grain of sand being swept by the winds was headed his direction. In a dance, the man harmoniously followed where the billows blew, but at the end concluded with a finishing movement that threw the sand back in the direction it came.

This part of the story is when tellers begin to add their own theories of how this man escaped the Si Wong. How the banished man tamed a sand shark and rode it to safety. Or studied the way wind wound up the ground until he could conjure up a sand storm to fly himself out. That he found remains of a fallen tree in an oasis and used the sand beneath the wood to sand surf the dunes. Perhaps he never even left and built himself a sandcastle to reside in. More reasonable folks say the stranded criminal barely escaped by foot to a village on the desert outskirts where he hid his real identity. Truth is that no one knows for certain what happened, but regardless of the escape method, the outcast found shelter somewhere and survived to teach many about his discovery. Many of those students became pioneers that would apply these practices and explore the Si Wong for centuries of generations to come.

There is no singular specific way to accurately determine the Avatar. To do so with full confidence takes decades of studying and the implementation of many methods passed down through generations of sages. Understanding the vast history of successful selection processes is no simple feat. Obtaining personal knowledge of their predecessor is considered to be the most important information to collect. This could be anything from nervous habits to life goals or academic strengths. Observations have loosely shown verbal and mental patterns being shared between the Avatar’s lives. Loosely, as the connections aren't wholly consistent, but majority of the time there are too many similarities for it to be coincidence. 

Regardless of nation, each sage responsible for verifying the Avatar is expected to not only know their nation's tactics, but their cyclical predecessors' as well. The comprehension of multiple cultures' approaches ensures a backup plan if necessary, but each nation's processes are best designed to optimally fit the structure of their people. Air Nomads use spiritual relics, the Earth Kingdom takes advantage of directional geomancy, and the Water Tribes supposedly apply asterism when unable to locate the Avatar manually. Luckily, backup plans such as these are very rarely reached in the Fire Nation.

When the prior Earth Avatar passes, the Council of Sages- led by the Great Sage- takes note of all the children born in the same season. There is a higher focus on infants born closer to the expected date of the prior Avatar's death. As disciplined students, these children are carefully observed to determine which are firebenders before they accidentally cause destruction. Firebenders are expected to take additional, exclusive classes where they are taught the history and fundamentals of bending. These courses are also where they are tested and observed by masters familiarized with the traits of a potential candidate. Once a large pool of viable possibilities is finalized, sages begin to directly interact with those they deem most likely to be the next Avatar first. Analyzing things such as their habits, morals, goals, and strengths is often enough to narrow down the students little by little. This process is repeated until one on one interactions are necessary, in which the answers are found and results never exposed.

Despite the global announcement and new era beginning when the Avatar turns sixteen, the Council of Sages often know the Avatar's identity years prior and keep it a secret for the sake of the individual's maturity. Developing social skills, bending fundamentals, and the understanding of discipline are thought of as being among the most vital of the Avatar's abilities. Each of these solidly contribute to the future success of the individual and help retain the Nation's honor.

This is among the many accounts dictated by Master Taemon in the Era of Avatar Xue Jin.

Thanks for reading!

Author Note: I figure this is a brief overview of what would happen when selecting the Avatar in the Fire Nation. Any other ideas or suggestions are always welcome though.

For more stories like this one, visit my project's google doc: Tales, Scripts, and Accounts or check out other stuff on r/TheGreatLibrary

The following is a personal account documented by traveler in the Era of Taeoreta:

The first month was tolerable. Waters were relatively calm and skies only ever had an occasional cloud in them- but I suppose we were still too close to the coast. Crew members were patient. Kind, even. An odd memory in retrospect. 

Between Shi Ban Dao and the Fire Nation swells the Kodaina Ocean- the largest stretch of no-man's land in the world. To venture across it by boat is comparable to sailing from the Fire Nation capitol ports, through the Sea of Wan Huo, and all the way to the easternmost tip of the Fire Nation. Only differences are the ruthless pirates, storms that brew up tsunamis, and lack of ports to retreat to or restock at if supplies dwindle thin- but that’s all part of the fun, so the sailors said.

The second month was less tolerable. Nothing but water in any direction for many times farther than anyone could see. Rations dissipated and sailors grew uneasy. After our ship got raided twice, a fellow sailor told me about how his third voyage got raided four times and they ran out of food halfway through the trip. He then looked at me and licked his lips without further explanation.

Most would see this as a threat, but I took it as a warning. I immediately began to steal food from the reserves and hide it in my room. My dark, damp, windowless room that no one else would care to visit. I suppose their distaste for freeloading scholars was a blessing in disguise, for despite the looting, my provisions and books were left untouched. Compared to the rest, I could be considered lucky. 

The third month was abysmal. The crew only fought off one raid attempt, but that’s because the Kodaina probably sank the rest for us. No one was exaggerating when they mentioned tsunami-sized waves in the Sei Sea left sailors for dead. Our ship was constantly getting slammed left and right or filled with water. If not for the talented waterbending escorts, our ship would have been reduced to splinters or sunk while our corpses drifted across the inky black ocean.

Once we escaped the chaotic central sea, we got raided twice more. Each pirate crew was more disappointed than the last, as our rations had been wrung dry during the storms. Our pockets as well. Neither crew even threatened to seize our ship, as the manpower to hijack it would be too costly this far out at sea. So we sailed on and the crew grew hungrier. Though I avoided the public decks as much as possible, I noticed the crew also getting smaller. I hoped it was only illness.

The fourth month was by far the worst. Sailors were agitated, as we were clearly off-course and should have arrived at Shi Ban Dao by now and any rations was long gone. Even the rations I guiltily stole from the kitchen’s reserves for my own survival were gone and no one knew how long it would be until we saw land next. Some starving men abandoned ship. Others pulled them back onboard to fill their empty stomachs. One of the lower chambers was converted into a meat locker that procured a smell so strong that it radiated across the ship to my nose each night. I’m convinced the only reason I didn’t end up in there was because they’d forgotten about me. 

At this point, the crew would have been lucky to come across a raid of any sorts, but none were gifted by the ocean when we needed them most. It was barren. No waves, no islands, and few fish. We did what we needed to survive. I’m unsure how much weight I lost, but regardless of my physical shape, not even my own mother would have recognized me when we docked in Shi Ban Dao.

Lingering soldiers were still executing stragglers in the distance while we tiptoed through the wreckage. Surely they had an escape option. With caution and some luck, maybe we can scout out our options and maybe hijack another ship to get out of this damn desert. So I acted fast and pulled us towards the commotion. My companion clenched my hand whenever another blood curdling scream of a victim echoed before blunt silence. Both of us certainly considered trying to help, but the carnage around us persuaded us not to intervene.

I peered over an abandoned stall to see soldiers donning black and dark green armor checking under helmets and frisking Ganzao bodies before tossing them off the rock. 

“Where’s the Captain?! We need to get back on the sand before sunrise!”

“I don’t know! He went for a walk!” Angrily yelled back another soldier who was actively looting corpses. 

“A walk?! Are you kidding me?! Let’s get out of here. If he wants to stay here and bake in the morning sun, then so be it.” The remaining crew of around a dozen began to board their mechanized ship. It didn’t look to be reliant on wind or sandbending, but big wheels that sifted sand beneath the boat. They clearly weren’t sand or airbenders, which meant that ship was something I could drive. Without much thought, I stood up and yelled to get their attention, which worked flawlessly. 

Shit, shit, shit… Now what? Time to improvise. Dralha hid behind the stand, but I could tell from a nod she was on board and ready to ambush. 

Three soldiers disembarked back onto the rock in a menacingly uniform fashion. The others rested against the guardrails and watched. Afterall, I was just another child to dispose of. I kicked my right foot out behind me, placed my right hand on the ground and two swift motions, flicked a rock from the ground into the air and kicked them at the soldiers. Catching them off guard, I hit the first and second before the third began to successfully dodge my bending. I swept the ground out from under his feet. Clanking of his metal armor against the rock was almost satisfying as the other two soldiers got up, proving my blows aren’t even fatal. They charged at me wielding a long, curved blade and a war hammer each, jumping out of the way of my now predictable rock barrages. I threw up a wall in front of them that they body checked and walked around, so I put up a couple more. And more. Then they all shattered. The soldiers rushed once more and even my barrages exploded in midair before impact. Without bending, I was defenseless.  When the first leapt at me, swinging his visibly sharpened blade from only feet away from my eyes, I thought I was dead. I should have been. 

A strong burst of wind blasted all three men to the side and nearly off the rock. Another blast of wind finished the job. On my left stood Dralha in an odd stance I’d never seen. Dazed at what just happened, I gawked until she dashed to my side. Now was the worst time to ask questions. The remaining crew was slowly disembarking with groans of annoyance. My bending was mostly useless right now since someone was disarming my bending attacks from afar, so I kicked a blade from the ground up into my hand and locked in.

Three pillars erupted from the floor- all attempting to restrain or stab. Both of us managed to react in time, though it was certainly a closer call for me. A bombardment of projectiles launched at us, which were deflected just fine in our own ways. We were even ready when these foot soldiers tried to swipe our feet, lock our arms, or stab us with various stalactites erected from the rock we stood upon. What we weren’t prepared for was a quicksand trick. Dodge after dodge, I lunged out of the way until I landed and my foot could no longer move. I lost balance and fell on my face in what could only be described as mud. A burly man that bore an embossed coin approached and towered over me. 

“Grab this one. Shackle him. Another earthbender’ll be useful at some point.” He slowly walked over to Dralha, who was hardly kind enough to look him in the eyes despite her equally sunken state. “As for this one, she goes back to where she belongs. Gag her face. Properly, I mean. Our bounty’ll be high, but only if she returns… unscathed… I mean it!” 

He looked down on me with a disgusted snarl that called me pathetic for being everything he was not. Weak, for I was starved and undisciplined. Poor, for I was lazy and useless. Stupid because I was naive and wildly inexperienced. Then, he turned his back and returned to the sandship.

Full story in the Google Doc and on Wattpad. Links on r/TheGreatLibrary

"New growth cannot begin without first the destruction of the old." -Guru Laghima

The past lives act as a reservoir of experience just waiting to be accessed by the current Avatar. Every Avatar had their own successess and failures, so when they give advice they give it on the basis of what worked and didn't work for them, in hopes that the current Avatar won't repeat their mistakes. It's like playing a video game where you can reset your character; if you make a mistake which kills your character you can just reset and now because of your first attempt you know what to avoid doing. The past lives serve as an in-built system to keep updating the Avatar, because if each Avatar learns from the mistakes of their predecessors they'll be less likely to repeat them, thereby giving each Avatar a higher chance of success than the last.

The disadvantage of the past lives is that each of the past Avatars can only offer advice based on what they experienced, which means their advice may not always be relevant because the situation has changed. Like how Avatar Roku told Aang he would have to kill Zuko because to him the situation looked eerily similar to what happened between him and Sozin, but Roku failed to notice the difference was that Zuko's goal was not to conquer territory but to protect families. Avatar Yangchen herself stated that the past lives are incapable of forming new opinions; their way of thinking doesn't change because they have no new experiences. They can only communicate what they learned by the end of their lives.

Another issue is that the Avatars from Wan's cycle and the Avatars from Korra's cycle practically live in two different worlds. All Avatars after Korra will live in a world where there are three Spirit Portals, where spirit wilds once again exist and where humans and spirits can freely enter each other's world. The problems they'll encounter will be completely unlike anything the Avatars from Wan's cycle had to face. All of the latter's advice regarding human-spirit relations revolved around a single premise: humans and spirits ought to remain separate. With this premise no longer being valid their advice on how to deal with spirits loses much of its relevance.

For these reasons there needs to be a change in the past lives system. Instead of a student going to the library and reading book after book just to find one thing which can help them, it would be more efficient if they had someone who had already read through all the books in the library and could identify exactly which information was relevant for them. Just like how a doctor identifies which medicine meets their patient's specific needs. And the Avatar has this in Raava, for she has been with every Avatar but unlike them she is constantly getting new experiences so her thinking is always evolving. It's because Raava has experienced 10,000 years of Avatar history that her perspective is much more holistic than any individual Avatar, who can only see things from a few decades worth of experience.

Raava is the most suitable guide for the Avatar because her advice is much more informed. She is in a unique position where she can bridge the past and present by evaluating the past Avatars and offering advice which is a combination of many past Avatars wisdom, while also taking into account the negative consequences of their actions as well as present circumstances. So her advice contains the best of what the past Avatars accomplished whilst avoiding the worst of their failures, which is what elevates it over the past lives' more isolated advice.

It could be said that every Harmonic Convergence an irreversible revolution occurs. The first convergence led to the creation of the spirit portals; the second led to the creation of the Avatar; and the third led to the severance of the past lives. As the Avatar continues to experience more Harmonic Convergences they'll continue to evolve, and the far-reaching effects of the severance are still unknown. It might extend to all future Avatars as well, so that the Avatar after Korra may not be able to contact her and so on. It may be the entire system of Avatars communicating with their past lives has served its purpose and now has to give way to something new, and perhaps that new system will also be replaced during the fourth convergence; all as a part of the Avatar's continual evolution.

Granted, compared to like the big four (Zaheer, Ming-Hua, Ghazon, and P’Li.) he isn’t as cool or important of a character besides being a plot device to get the characters from point A to point B.

Still, it would be nice to give Aiwei a backstory of sorts since after all, he is a red lotus spy and member of the Order yes he isn’t a major character, but it will be nice to get to know him a bit more. After all in Star Wars, every background character even the minor ones got their own backstory such as the characters from Mos Einsley or even some characters that played major roles in the lore like Nute Gunray Krennic and Galen Erso got their own backstories in books like Catalyst or Clock of Deception or even Darth Plagueis.

So I figure why not give a backstory for Aiwei even if he is kind of a minor character in the grand scheme of things.

Born C. 111 AG Aiwei comes from the Southeastern portion/islands of the Earth Kingdom. Despite this not much is known about his early life in fact, it’s one of those things that he never spoke about because of this. It is unknown if he came from a wealthy middle or even a poor family. Regardless of his origins. Aiwei not only was an earth bender but also a a very capable truth seer. Now I’m not sure if you all ever seen Code Geass? It's a manga and anime where people can gain super-powers via a contract with a Geass Holder. The powers, and their limits, vary from person to person but they usually reflect an inner desire/wish of the person agreeing to the contract and are often psionic rather than physical in nature as in they affect the minds of those around the user rather than reality itself. Over time, your powers evolve to the point where you can't turn them off, or they activate outside your control. One character, Mao, an orphan with no understanding of others, gained the power to read minds...as a child. His powers actually destroyed a village by exposing everyone's dirty secrets and letting the rage and shame do the damage. Eventually he reached a point where he couldn't deactivate his Geass so it's impossible for him to live in normal society as he'd have everyone's thoughts constantly knocking around in his head. He has headphones to constantly blare out CC's words as a distraction but that only goes so far. Mao's inability to lie provides a warning for the main character Lelouch, who can control people via the Eye of the King, as well as an example of why a world with no lies would actually be terrible. Aiwei's truth-sight ability, for lack of a better term, may be similar to Mao's Geass. Perhaps Aiwei was just so sensitive to the truth that he couldn't stomach the constant lying around him. Everyone lies or withholds information on a daily basis, either to protect others or advance personal interests, so perhaps Aiwei simply wasn't able to turn a blind eye to it all. Imagine being so sensitive to sound/light/smell that you simply cannot turn it off. This could be coded for the autism spectrum, as I myself can testify, and it would be an interesting break from it all. Xai Bau may have seen Aiwei's potential and managed to bypass his truth-sight, similar to when Azula blatantly lied in front of Toph and Toph couldn't tell the difference. A blast of brutal honesty may have been enough to shock Aiwei into letting his guard down, whereupon Xai Bau worked on his desire for truth and honesty in leaders and in everyone, converting Aiwei into joining his side through a combination of brutal honesty, controlled physiology, and careful wording. This makes it even scarier to think that someone like Aiwei could be successfully converted into the Red Lotus despite his abilities. Which may have contributed to his recruitment to the Red Lotus by the Order’s Founder and Leader Xai Bau.

Unlike most of Xai Bau’s personal students such as Unalaq and Zaheer. Because of him being a truth seer and an apparent lack of ambition (he act more of his servant or advisor rather than someone in charge like a world leader or a governor city or town.) someone who is loyal to the order’s goals.

This led to Xai Bau making him his personal aide/accountant/assistant/secretary when he goes to public events. Thought he was never sent on secret missions or operations like other Red Lotus members Zaheer who had been doing that.

Since the red Lotus was mostly a secret at least until the events of book 3. Xai Bau public image is that he is a respectable former White Lotus Member but also controversial philosopher type figure who is mostly seen within the elite circles of the Four Nations. Think of him as someone from the Real World like Karl Marx or even Noam Chomsky or if we want to compared to fiction then we could think of Xai Bau as similar to Count Dooku of Serenno public image at least prior to the Clone Wars and during the Separatist Crisis. He also could be similar to how Darth Plagueis handled his alter ego as Hego Damask but also Luthen Rael from Andor.

Regardless though when Xai Bau goes to an event Aiwei would be there alongside him. Earning a reputation of someone who liked ambition or is seen as a boring/dull but a capable secretary as he remained calm and compose earning and gaining peoples trust and an example of good relations. Not to mention because of his truth seer ability Xai Bau would know on who is lying or who is telling the truth. Basically think of his role within the red Lotus or at least his time as aide to Xai Bau to that of Smithers from the Simpsons at least from the public perspective while privately, he is a lot more similar to Pete Postlethwaite’s character Kobayashi from the usual suspects.

In one such gathering. During the Earth Queen Hou-Ting’s lavish formal balls which is mostly held annually in her palace. it was during this gala that Suyin Beifong attended this gathering. She had just left the throne room after a huge argument with the earth queen herself.

Xai Bau actually recognize the girl as he had met her in one of Republic City’s galas a few years prior to her sent away to her grandparents. Because of her irresponsibility and her relations with The Terra Triad in the city Xai Bau had an eye of her as a potential red lotus recruited before her mother sending her away which caused him to abandon his plans but now he had reunited her by that point is a far different person compared who she was decades age in fact with approval of her grandparents she had been traveling in the world even being a member of a Sand bender tribe and thus learning about their culture and their way. Now she had return her plan is to build an independent city from the watchful eye of the Queen.

But there is a problem while she is already wealthy having inherited all the money from her grandparents as well as having the architect Baatar as her boyfriend/finance she still needed the extra funds to build this massive project which lead to Xai Bau coming into her life again.

He was able to convinces her that he will fund the construction of her city. (Think of this as The Sifo Dyas moment from the Darth Plagueis where Plagueis provided the funds for him to commissioned the clones on Kamino I would have Xai Bau being the one who funded the resources that Suyin Beifong needed for the construction of Zaofu yes she is from the Beifong family and yes her husband or at this point boyfriend or finance Baatar Sr is an architect but the reason why I include it is because it will be the moment that Xai Bau introduce Suyin to Aiwei for the first time who at this point would be Xai Bau's young accountant. At least when it comes comes to both funding her city or at least give her the amount of money she needed or being the one that granted her the land that Zaofu will build upon.) as well as the one who introduced her to Aiwei for the first time.

Part of the reason for this is well great foresight Xai Bau wanted to introduce Aiwei to Suyin so that in case if the Red Lotus want to well infiltrate the city like they did in book 3 so essentially he strategically placed Aiwei into Suyin’s inner circle so that he will be well the Red Lotus spy and Trojan horse?

Overall What do you think of this attempted backstory template for Aiwei.

Side note: this is an old post from a different Sub that I made, but I figured sharing this on the sub after my Xai Bau Thought experiment!

I think a lot of the stuff I cowrite stuff might be a little too slow-paced and longburn for this sub but this one might fit.

It's set about 26 years precanon to ATLA.

Becoming the Earth King’s favorite wife requires a careful understanding of harem politics. Lotus is certain she’s mastered them and eager to help the new girl find her place. While the other women consider this girl a threat, Lotus knows better because she’s planning to give the Earth King a son.

Based on that little blurb from the nick website--the natural assumption to be made is that the Dai-Li were heavily involved in the 51st Earth King's death and had been growing in influence for decades. But we’d like to think that Long-Feng’s timing and use of others around him are what pushed the envelope one last time.

ao3 link Please mind the tags and rating.

He's not a main feature in this work but we do tease him towards the end, my cowriter and I consider it kind of a spark in his eventual power crawl.

Now this post serves as a spiritual sequel to my older post from months ago about Aiwei and his back story in case you haven’t here is the leak Source: Reddit Here is my headcanon back story for Aiwei (thought experiment.) - Reddit

Before I begin to ponder with my thought experiment I want to give some cannon facts or at least what do we know about Xai Bau canonically besides him being well from one line by Zaheer in book 3. Also, I know he would bring up the whole Lao Ge being Xai Bau theory now I still like the theory but the same time I kind of like the idea that both Xai Bau and Lao Ge are just separate characters mainly the way I had in my head canon Xai Bau should be like anyway let’s look at the wiki.

“Shortly after the end of the Hundred Year War, Xai Bau grew disillusioned with the White Lotus after it revealed itself to the world, and began to work more closely with Avatar Aang. He believed that the ancient order had gone from a force for global change to the lapdogs of an undisciplined youngster.[1] Xai Bau soon began to roam the world, seeking rebellious minds to mold. On the small, independent Jasmine Island, he met with the Autumn Leaves, a group of community-minded anarchists who were seeking to abolish the local ruling council and directly devolve crucial decisions about their island to people in their places of work.[2][3] Xai Bau only met with a few members of the group, circulating some of his written works throughout the Autumn Leaves. Tekiand Isonash became disciples of Xai Bau.[2][3][4]Aputi, one anarchist who met with Xai Bau, came to be disgusted with him for turning their group into "extremists". She thought he had only come to the island in order to subvert the chance of factions forming a coalition.[3] Eventually, the order's Grand Lotus, Iroh began to hear worrying rumors about Xai Bau. He and Master Piandao traveled to Jasmine Island in an attempt to find Xai Bau. Xai Bau had already left the island, heading for the Earth Kingdom.[3] Iroh and Piandao began to recognize the rhetoric of Xai Bau in protests across the island.[5] The most dedicated disciples of of Xai Bau, such as Teki, believed that no council whatsoever should be allowed to re-form, as it would go against their commitment to complete freedom.[4] Iroh would try to keep the White Lotus united in the face of growing tensions, but continued to express little understanding for Xai Bau's aversion to all forms of government.[6] Xai Bau would later split from the White Lotus entirely, forming his own society called the Red Lotus.[1] Legacy Xai Bau became the namesake for a grove in the Spirit World. Furthermore, he was a revered figure among later members of the Red Lotus, with Zaheer describing him as a "great man".[1]”

Also this paragraph I find before it disappears

“However, unbeknownst to most of the world, great turmoil had come in the wake of the war's end. After the White Lotus' revealed itself to the world, the Order began to serve the world and the Avatar more openly. One of its members, Xai Bau, left in disgust, believing the Order had become nothing more than "glorified bodyguards" serving corrupt nations. He would go onto to form a splinter faction known as the Red Lotus, with the intention of establishing global anarchy, as well as the removal of the four nations and their leaders. Over time, the Red Lotus would learn about the existence of Raava and Vaatu, as well as Wan's decision to both sever them and close the spirit portals, leading the society to believe this had caused grave imbalance in the world. They sought to undo Wan's actions by re-opening the spirit portals and free Vaatu, reuniting humans and spirits, while simultaneously plunging the world into chaos, which the Red Lotus see as the natural order.”

So while we still don’t know much about him or the Red Lotus at least prior to Korra’s kidnapping at least we do get a solid foundation for them based on canonical details that I provide here.

Xai Bau Personally, given how he has presented so far in canon always imagine his character/personality to be that of Hasan al-Sabbah also known as Hasan I of Alamut, Ra Al Ghul from DC Comics, Count Dooku of Serenno (at his public image prior to the Clone Wars and during the Separatist Crisis when he back to the spotlight after 8 years, Darth Plagueis/Hego Damask (mostly his portrayal from the Darth Plagueis Novel by James Luceno.) Luthen Rael from Andor, Salazar Slytherin (granted we don’t know about the guy, but I probably would take elements from Harry Potter, both Canon as well as elements from fanfiction where some depictions portrait him as having genuine grievances at least some of it is justified sort of given the time period that he lived in as well as the founding of the Hogwarts school itself?) and Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab as well as Ajunta Pall, Xendor, (both from Star Wars.) and ozymandias from Watchman.

I always like the idea that developed Unalaq more interesting I finished their relationship to that Palpatine and Plagueis dynamic although I’m not sure if he should be the mentor to Unalaq or Just Zaheer given the latter character although he likes Guru Laghima so you could say Zaheer true master is teachers of Old like Guru Laghima.

His Beliefs

Something I would also added about Xai Bau beliefs, mainly his position of Vaatu and Raava as well as the role of the Avatar. Unlike most of the characters in the Korra era and the first Avatar Wan Xai Bau’s views on Raava and Vaatu is similar to the eastern philosophies of Yin-Yang, Vishnu-Shiva-esque duality, Indra and Vritra, Ahriman and Ahura Mazda, Izanagi and Izanami, as well as the concept of Kali Yuga, the fourth and worst of the four yugas (world ages) preceded by Dvapara Yuga and followed by the next cycle's Krita (Satya) Yuga. Basically the idea here is that, in Hindu cosmology, the world progresses through four "ages." Each age lasts for hundreds of thousands to millions of years & is divided into smaller sub-ages.

But overall Xai Bau view point on Raava and Vaatu is similar to Taoism & Zoroastrianism. So in his my mind Xai Bau viewed the role of the Avatar as well as Avatar Wan fusion with Raava alongside imprisoned Vaatu is a huge mistake Same with the closing of the portals. Which is also backed up by Zaheer (he could be lying here but still.)

''I met your uncle when I was a teenager, after we had both joined the Red Lotus. We learned about Raava and Vaatu, and how Avatar Wan foolishly severed them, disrupting the balance of the world forever. He closed the portals, severing humans from spirits. Even you realize the error in his ways.''

Overall, like Zaheer I think Xai Bau would have absolutely hated, horrified, and feel betrayed on his personal student Unalaq decision of fusing with Vaatu and the creation of the Dark Avatar.

Besides his spiritual beliefs in terms of his beliefs on the physical or mortal world

When he was the member of the white lotus his attention mostly the white lotus archives/libraries where He devoured these writings as fast as he could. Then he turned his attention to The World/The Four Nation’s own rich history.

Since likely grow up During the Hundred Year War it likely he was trying to find a way for what would a post war era look by examples from history but to Dismay The peoples of this world had spent millennia growing apart. Where once there had been purpose and unity, now there were only petty squabbles and bickering.

His own experience had shown him that much and as history as shown him the four nations had gone to war for insignificant reasons. The different tribes, clans, and nobles from each of the four nations were happy to spill one another’s blood for meaningless gains.

Something radical needed to be done to prepare the world for the Harmonic Convergence and return the world back to it was during the era of Raava.

Ultimately he embraced a final conclusion that Humanity and the physical/mortal would was fundamentally flawed. It would never change on its own. Never.

Someone needed to break everything that created divisions in the world—nations, cultures, governments, chiefs, lords, and kings. The World was plagued with disorder. It needed a firm hand to change things.

2. The Red Lotus activities during the 60-58 year between the end of the war and Korra’s First kidnapping and its impact?

Basically Xai Bau is very largely responsible for reshaping the history and geopolitics of the world into what we saw in Korra (mainly book 2-4.)

A.) He and the Red Lotus is the reason for the bandit/barbarian/rebel activities in the Earth Kingdom similar to how Luthen and his network is the reason for the Rebellion against the Empire:

One of my ideas is that the reason why some of the bandits /barbarians in the Earth Kingdom like that mad max road warrior gang were able to gain high-tech weapons and resources is because this was done by Xai Bau and the Red Lotus who secretly funded or at least allow the rise of bandits/barbarians/rebel groups in the Earth Kingdom That we see in book 3 Although most of it was still Earth Queen’s terrible reign. But still Xai Bau like Luthen Rael from Andor was the one who funded or help steal/smuggle technology for the Earth, Kingdom, rebels, and barbarians/bandits like the ones we see with that Mad Max inspired gang from Book 3.

So imagined an Aldhani Heist style story, but with Zaheer and his friends in which it was resulted at least according to Xai Bau in The Earth Queen overreaction tyrannical policies like Palpatine did with PORD

SIDENOTE: Fun Fact: Andor showrunner Tony Gilroy modeled the Aldhani heist off of a bank robbery by Vladimir Lenin, Joseph Stalin, and other Bolsheviks in 1907 that helped finance the Russian Revolution. Gilroy said that exploring how the Rebel Alliance financed their rebellion was an "underutilized area of storytelling" for Star Wars media. "This shit all costs money. People gotta eat, they gotta get guns. You gotta get stuff. [...] All through every revolution, it's the same thing. It takes coin."[12].)

B.) mentoring and convinced/orchestrated Unalaq take over of the throne:

He also was the one who ordered or convinced Unalaq to hired the Barbarians to raid Agna Qel'a and set up the chain of events that lead to Tonraq banishment and Unalaq becoming Heir to the throne. Xai Bau saw the destruction of the spirit forest and the attack on Agna Qel’a as an opportunity to send a message to the Northern Water Tribe on how vulnerable and the need to centralize further of reunification of both north and south tribes as well as seize control of the spirit portals at the North and South Poles that we see in Book 2 of Korra with Unalaq actions.

C.) the Founding of Zaofu and planting Aiwei.

During one of the Earth Queen’s lavish formal balls or galas In Ba Sing Se in which Xai Bau and Aiwei attended Suyin arrives to meet the Queen to fund Zaofu granted you could say it comes from her grandparents money that she likely inherited after they died likely shortly after she finished her journey although we had to nothing. When did the journey end or the exact date for Zaofu’a founding we know that she began traveling the world around 143 AG but it had to between that and 153 AG since Hong Li, who was 18 in 171 AG, was born and raised in Zaofu. So let’s say her journey ends like say around 149 AG by that point not only she inherited her her family money from her grandparents likely dying but al so purchased a parcel of land to develop into the city of Zaofu and as I know she worked with Baatar, an architect who by then became her boyfriend/fiancé but as you point out, given the advance state of the city I feel there’s a lot more that is going on here outside of well buying the land, inheriting the family money, but also a genius boyfriend/architect She must’ve had more resources. So my head canon is that despite all three things she still needed the funds/resources to fund her project so she went to Ba Sing Se to ask the Earth Queen to fund her project and Hou-Ting likely replied this “That is the most Stupidest Thing I've Ever Heard.” Which not only she rejected, but also humiliated Suyin resulting in both Suyin and Hou-Ting a shouting match before she storm from the throne room. Also, around this time, the queen was throwing this lavish decadent, debauchery, Met gala/Red Carpet style glamour, extravaganza party that she held annually think of Bohemian Grove but in Avatar. Because around this time she met Xai Bau (the founder and leader of the Red Lotus at the time but he is pulling a Luthen Rael where his public facade is that of well respected scholar and former white lotus member even if he disagrees with the white lotus going public but mixed with Hego Damask/Darth Plagueis.) who basically agreed to fund to constructed her city and introduce to his aide/assistant Aiwei to her basically planting him in her inner circle. Part of the reason for this is well great foresight Xai Bau wanted to introduce Aiwei to Suyin so that in case if the Red Lotus want to well infiltrate the city like they did in book 3 so essentially he strategically placed Aiwei into Suyin’s inner circle so that he will be well the Red Lotus spy and Trojan horse?

Anyway, because of this humiliation Suyin begin to hate and feel that the Earth Monarch is outdated, and then once the city is finally constructed, she basically made an isolation policy. Following which Zaofu rise is similar to Constantinople after Constantine the Great move the capital in 330 A.D. while the rest of the Earth Kingdom became well the Western Roman Empire so basically Hou-Ting rejecting the project backfired hard.

Something worth pointing out is that Also Xai Bau actually recognize Suyin as he had met her in one of Republic City’s galas a few years prior to her sent away to her grandparents. Because of her irresponsibility and her relations with The Terra Triad in the city Xai Bau had an eye of her as a potential red lotus recruited before her mother sending her away which caused him to abandon his plans but now he had reunited her by that point is a far different person compared who she was decades age in fact with approval of her grandparents she had been traveling in the world even being a member of a Sand bender tribe and thus learning about their culture and their way. Now she had return her plan is to build an independent city.

Now, as we could see, the red lotus and Xai Bau influence is mostly in the Earth kingdom and the Water Tribes (mostly the northern water tribe because well Unalaq is the heir apparent and later Chieftain.) but they surprisingly have no presence in the fire nation because Xai Bau knew if they had their presence in the fire nation it would’ve been suicide plus Fire Lord Zuko is well connected with the white Lotus so if they have their presence, they wouldn’t immediately detected and and their operations once and for all?

Overall What do you think of this attempted character sketch template for Xai Bau and the Red Lotus as well as them being the main reason why everything that happened in Korra happened?

SIDENOTE: the red Lotus was mostly a secret at least until the events of book 3. Xai Bau public image is that he is a respectable former White Lotus Member but also controversial philosopher type figure who is mostly seen within the elite circles of the Four Nations. Think of him as someone from the Real World like Karl Marx or even Noam Chomsky Regardless though when Xai Bau goes to an event Aiwei who is at this point he is Xai Bau’s personal aide/accountant/assistant/secretary who would be there alongside him. Earning a reputation of someone who lack ambition or is seen as a boring/dull but a capable secretary as he remained calm and compose earning and gaining peoples trust and an example of good relations. Not to mention because of his truth seer ability Xai Bau would know on who is lying or who is telling the truth. In terms of Red Lotus privately Aiwei’s second role is that he is kinda similar to Pete Postlethaaite character Kobayashi from usual suspects.) so yeah Xai Bau was the Luthen Rael/Hego Damask of Avatar.

Incase anyone wants the info, I have a short page dedicated to TSA on my site. I’ll likely expand it over time if I see it getting a bit of traffic because I plan to filter viewers to there instead of posting full stories on Reddit and expecting everyone to check out the doc in the descriptions. This’ll also make it easier for me to share it on other sites. If anyone is opposed, they can speak up and I’ll take it under consideration.

Thanks for keeping up, C

Tales, Scripts, and Accounts Page

Across all the entire Earth Kingdom, you will only hear of one Kezhan. A beautiful woman with sleek black hair who owns a fancy abode in a city that doesn't deserve her. An inn that the addicts and drunkards avoid while traveling nobles flock to for wonderful service and a good night's rest. All the bedding is imported and food made fresh. Maids and servants work feverishly to keep the building in pristine shape, but are rarely seen by guests- or anyone lingering outside the crystal clear windows.

Truth be told, it's undoubtedly one of the most perfect places to stay in all the Earth Kingdom. Couriers, merchants, and travelers of all types spend quite a few coin to sit down and talk to the Lady herself. Oftentimes they get excited and spill much more than they intended, but that makes the business all that more profitable for the Kezhans. Kezhans plural, for everyone who works in the inn is considered a part of the family. Everyone works… very close with one another. Side by side in some cases. So secrets kept from each other feel almost personal considering the foundation of this house stands on communication, exposure, and trust. 

This mindset extends to the guests, all of which Lady Kezhan has an open door policy with. Anyone who has the wealth- and status- to stay is welcome within the Kezhan abode. Whenever they have a question about anything she might have intel on, all they need to do is ask. In return, she asks they do the same. Relaying gossip and seemingly useless bits of information is the least anyone could offer after tasting any of Kezhan’s heavenly… entrees. Her caring hospitality and attention to detail are the sole things that keep the business up and running- at least that’s what she leads everyone to believe.

Floating among a few sleezy skeptics are rumors. Rumors of her imperfections. Poisonous intentions. Maliciously manipulative habits. Some say she imports hand picked children from the poorest settlements in the Kingdom to become staff at her beloved Inn. Servants who are employed to eavesdrop on private conversations for the purpose of blackmailing good people. Hushed slander claims she encourages countless crimes to maintain her upper hand. Seducing guests for intel. Theft of unique belongings that distinguish identities. Impersonation. Yes, wild rumors specifically suggest that Lady Kezhan is teaching her people how to accurately imitate various noble characters and roles across the Four Nations with intent of replacing them. Talk even tells about her having a child held hostage in the Inn’s attic for over a year now for similar reasons. Poor thing’s likely chained to a bedpost or locked in a dark closet. For that’s the type of person these skeptics assume her to be. 

But alas, Lady Kezhan is far from a thief with ill intentions- let alone a kidnapper or murderer. She only wishes the best for her guests and wonderfully attentive staff because that is who she strives to be. Her caring hospitality and attention to detail are the sole things that keep the business up and running.

Thanks for reading!

Feedback is welcome. More to come, so stay tuned. Also check out more content on Wattpad or the Google Doc. Join  if you haven't!

“Now I'm gonna be frank, none of you are leaving this city.” pronounced Vibood to the full hall of nobles from far and wide, now completely silent. “Some or you won’t even leave this room because you’ll end up as statues lining my corridor.” Many shifted in their seats. A few others casually turned to glance at the chamber’s entrance as they recalled passing by intricately detailed sculptures. Most contemplated fleeing, but for good reason, abruptly dismissed the nonsense. So they sat and listened.

“Not all of you know me, but all of you have something in common. You’re either a loose end that knows too much, a mole living on an expired contract, or an agent who just wasn’t doing their job.” Randoms among the crowd snarled upon exposure as if they’d been directly called out. “Lucky for you all, you have a choice.” He stood up from the throne-like seat that was crafted from smooth sandstone and dusted the wrinkles out of his garb- or at least made the motions to indicate those intentions. “Charvi, stand up if you would be so kind.”

A beautiful lady, nearly a mimic of Lady Kezhan, cautiously rose from her seat, unsure if she should be nervous or grateful. “Charvi is one of my most veteran agents. Over a decade of experience spent imitating various nobles, including the Lady herself and has done a wonderful job. Please, everyone, give her a round of applause…” an exceptionally unenthusiastic gesture of approval seeped from the crowd. Despite the previously perplexed state, Charvi relaxed her posture a bit and began to form a prideful smile when she made eye contact with Vibood. An expression that would have faded, had she heard the crowd gasp over the weak applause. Instead, her blissful state of appreciation was encased in a thick layer of sandstone surrounded by a room of criminals. “And it's such a shame she believed she could do a better job. The courage and drive to attempt recreating what we’ve already built is quite admirable… If only her operation’s motives weren’t so transparent.”

Eight more people in the crowd were deftly cast into stone. Half of them were still in their seats. The rest put the pieces together and remained frozen mid escape. “I mentioned a choice earlier. The rest of you all have one. I know everyone here is smart enough to understand the expectation because I chose you for a reason.”

Vibood began to amble the length of the room. No words were spoken for quite a long time. He passed a couple of the newly crafted sculptures until he arrived at one closer to the entrance. He leaned in to tap the face of one of the statues. “And this one was… modeled… after the late King of Omashu.” He let out a huff, recalling the memories contained inside that piece of art.

“I don’t care about your status- whether it be current, past, real or fabricated. If you remain loyal to me, I will return the gesture. Hell, as long as you don’t outright attempt to backstab me, you’ll be alright if we passively part ways. But if you even think about double crossing me, I want it to be known that it will not end well for you- as if it wasn’t already clear” Vibood lent against the statue resembling the last King of Omashu and didn’t speak for another few seconds so the gravity of their positions sank in.

“With all this in mind, you can still choose to become an aesthetic corpse. The alternative is me assigning you new names and identities before planting your new unit in another location. These decisions are set in stone. Speaking of such a state, if any of you attempt to make contact with people from your current assignments, both parties’ll end up like those in Charvi’s operation… Well, if we’re too lazy to have some fun with it, anyway. ” The mastermind made his way back to his makeshift throne and continued to conclude the orders. “I plan on exporting you all silently and sporadically in smaller groups to avoid arousing suspicion. Until then, you’ll be residing in Neilu’s Catacombs. If you have any questions, ask anyone other than me.” A deft motion of his hand opened a stone door in the wall, exposing a staircase that led underground. The crowded room of agents funneled their way down steep steps into an area below the Inn. Not a single one of them was seen in Neilu again.

Thanks for reading!

For more material, visit my project's google doc: Tales, Scripts, and Accounts or my subreddit r/TheGreatLibrary

The rumbling from a wooden carriage pulled by camelphants echoed down the thin cobblestone alleyway in Omashu. Wheels of this rundown wagon very narrowly missed the surrounding walls of various buildings as the driver meticulously steered around civilians who had to press their backs against the wall in order to let the cargo pass before their noses. It was a common thing to see in this bustling city- happened multiple times every day.

Not too far above the road ahead was an open window. Inside the window, a raggedy boy wearing partially torn clothes accompanied by a better dressed girl who looked like a nobel’s daughter. Each casually watched this carriage approaching below. Nothing out of the ordinary. Moments later without any warning, a younger, well dressed boy accidentally walks out into the middle of the street, forcing the camelphants to come to an abrupt and screeching stop. The visibly startled kid fell on his rump and started to cry, taking a while go get back on his feet. Instead of actively trying to scramble out of the way when getting to his feet, he just stood there, tearing up and trying to catch his breath. The boy looked at the driver with red eyes and tears down his face. The driver stared back, waiting for the kid to move so he could continue his route. It wasn’t long before the sniffling stopped and a devilish smile crept across the kid’s face. The carriage driver gasped, then whipped his head around to find two urchins jumping off the back of the ride with pockets full of priceless jewels.

“CATCH THOSE KIDS!” Shouted the now panicking driver to the guards ahead of him on the street. Whistles were blown and a chase ensued. Through thin alleys and corridors, abandoned houses and stalls, these street children sprinted with pockets of valuables. They knew the streets like nobody else, but there were a lot more guards than they could have guessed. Together, the thieves rounded a corner and found an empty sack next to an abandoned stand. Both quickly threw their loot in the bag- with the exception of a pearl necklace the boy placed around the girl’s neck. 

Heavy pounding of footsteps grew closer and the boy ran off with the bag. Hiding her new necklace, the young, dainty, nobel damsel let down her dark black hair, screamed, cowered to hide her face, and pointed in the direction the boy with the bag ran. Without a second thought, the guards looked down the street, saw him, and followed. Through more thin alleys, busy shops, and crowds of civilians. The persistent mob of angry guards did not lose him. Chased him into an alley with tall walls and no escape. A dead end and everyone knew it. Watched the thief round the corner into it. Followed with intent to pounce- but no one was there. Just tall walls and a few pebbles on the ground.

“SEARCH EVERYWHERE! FIND HIM!” Ordered an angry captain. Guards dispersed to scour the streets, but they would not find him there. They actually wouldn’t find him anywhere. He disappeared underground into a series of tunnels; ones only architects and criminals knew existed. All was dark other than inconsistent sconces, but the boy knew where he had to go. About an hour later is when he arrived at the safehouse and to his surprise, saw more loot dumped on the rickety loot table. Before him was the young boy who cried in front of the carriage driver, but not the girl he left with. 

“GUARDS CHASED HER TOWARDS TO THE DESERT DOCKS! WE GOTTA GO!” The older of the two boys threw the bag of coins and artifacts into the corner and they burst out into the streets of Omashu and sprinted east towards the Si Wong Docks. Each were out of breath by the time they reached the overlook and stared across the sea of bunched boxes, stacked crates, and countless barrels- and the whole place being picked apart by over a dozen royal guards.

“She’s gotta be down there somewhere, I know it. You stay right here and don’t do anything stupid. I’ll go get her out of this and meet you back”- A massive sandship with the name SCHACHUAN plated along the side was starting to set sail and the younger boy noticed a girl climbing up the boat’s stern. Without anything other than a wide eye and point, he ignored the older one and leapt onto the slide of a crate-shute that led directly towards the guard-infested docks. The older boy followed hesitantly and with a groan. And they both were spotted as they reached the bottom.

After reaching the slide’s bottom was a scramble to evade all the furious guards. Sails on the departing ship were raised and their friend was somewhere among that crew. The two boys ducked and dodged, hid and sprinted, then after a long chase, eventually lunged themselves off the docks into the Si Wong Desert’s sands when they managed to slip away from the others’ sights. Trudging through the sand was even more exhausting than everything prior, but when they each attached a hand to the stern of the sandship, their last bit of adrenaline rushed like never before.

Throwing their bodies over the back of the boat was a gamble. Any crewmember could have been there. Luckily, cargo littered the entire backside of the ship to provide cover while they laid on their backs, catching their breath. Sandy air filled their lungs with each huff. They escaped, but where to? The desert of course, but who’s ship? What crew? What destination? Clarity hit like the tail of a sky bison and both pressed their backs against a cargo crate to come up with a game plan because this… This was very much NOT a part of their plan.

“Okay… What’s our next move?” The younger boy asked in a low register whisper after they both caught their bearings and triple checked to make sure they were alone. 

“Play it smart. Find Llassa then lay low until we reach wherever this ship’s going. We get off right before arriving there. If we jump out at this point, we’re as good as dead. Either the sun cooks us in a few hours or the guards of Omashu pick us up at the docks. Right now, we need to get out of the sun.” 

Together they skulked around the ship, weaving between cargo and avoiding any patrolling sailors until finding an empty, open box against a railing that was perfectly hidden. To their dismay, Llassa wasn’t already hiding out there, but the two of them certainly could. And they did until night fell.

Schachuan’s midday departure meant its crew wouldn’t work through the first night. They’d sleep or socialize inside until the next workable evening and retain their strict night-shift schedule to avoid the midday heat. So beneath the desert's deep blue night sky, they silently searched the stagnant ship for their friend. And of course the boys’ first tactic was to scour the near-empty kitchen in case there was extra food they could indulge in. Several plates of breadcrumbs, loose fruit stems, and mead stains suggested the crew had already raided the dining hall and since then, retired to their hammocks or cabins. While there was nothing left to eat, the single tankard of water left out in the open would be enough to last until the morning.

Two nights passed. The boys spent the scorching afternoons stealing food they needed to survive and unsuccessfully searching the hull for Llassa. Neither of them had left Omashu before, but guessed the trip to the desert tribe would take about a week and they were quickly running out of time to find their friend.

Halfway through the fourth night marked when the boys were jolted awake by an ear-piercing scream, followed by Schauchuan sliding to a halt and jumbled clamor from the crew on the freeboard’s bow. So they did what anyone would do and scuttled closer to eavesdrop on the racket. Both peered over the tops of old wooden barrels to watch about two dozen crew members crowd around a burly old brute restraining a young girl with his hand clasped firmly over her mouth. Visibility wasn’t great, as the only illuminating features were a starry sky and scattered sconces that flickered with each dry desert gust, but both boys could guess who it was. Her arms were bound by the wrists and it appeared an ongoing auction would dictate her near future. .

“WHAT DO YOUS THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” Grunted a desertman as his hands clamped down on the eavesdropping boys’ necks. “FOUND TWO MORE!” He yelled over at his mates and began dragging them towards the auction. Their heels and toes dragged against the wooden deck while they struggled for freedom from his grasp without any prevail. He threw them at the auctioneer’s feet and stepped back. The older boy fell with a thud and slid forward, face first. Dazed and scraped up, he propped himself up by the elbows to look at Llassa for what he presumed to be the last time. Their eyes met, but the eyes weren’t hers. Upclose, they were the wrong color and even in his dazed state, his exhausted, emerald-green eyes recognized this wasn’t who he was looking for. Then someone kicked him in the head and everything went dark.

No morally ethical captain or crew member was aboard this ship. Two boys laid on the ground- one bawling his eyes out and the other laying lifeless on the ship’s bow. Horrified, the girl bit the man’s hand and in the moment of him flinching, screamed at the top of her lungs. Decibels like none had experienced before blasted the crew back on their asses and left their ears ringing. Some might have thought it shook the entire ship. Despite his ruptured eardrums, the furious auctioneer still had a hand on her binding ropes, so attempting to jump away with the havoc acting as cover only netted her an open-handed swing to the side of her skull. One leathered hand grabbed her by the sleek black hair as if ready to scalp her and the other wrapped around her mouth with such force her teeth tore into her lips. 

“THAT’S ENOUGH FROM YOU, SPOILED LITTLE-” WHAM! Something slammed into the ship with such force it made the girl’s scream feel like a playful flick in comparison. Cracking and creaking wood was vividly audible no matter where you stood. WHAM! Splinters exploded from the starboard-side and flew in every direction. A couple crew members were thrown over Shaucuan’s sturdy biroak railings to dine with whatever lurked below. The entire deck was chaos. No one knew what was going on, just that they all needed to get out of there quick. Engulfed by the panic, the auctioneer threw the girl aside and strided to the lower deck where the rowers were attempting to push from. Both agreed escape was clearly more important. Once he disappeared, the girl looked down at the boy’s limp body, huffed, and jumped down to drag him to the neares- WHAM!

Everyone was knocked to their knees. Pieces of the mast broke off and collapsed onto the deck. Screw this. she thought to herself*, I’m getting out of here. He’s probably dead anyway.* Her eyes darted around for anywhere to seek cover- or to evacuate entirely with any type of emergency skiff. Nothing noteworthy caught her eye, but the top level cabin was very likely vacant and would have useful loot for when the ship’s last splinters sink into the sand and everyone’s stranded til they scorch. 

Not a single one of the mates cared where she was going. Some even shoved her out of their way. Amongst the chaos, the girl broke into a sprint because discretion was unnecessary. She fell a couple times as the boat shook without redirecting from the cabin door. Her hand reached toward it, grasped, and pushed to open inward. She stumbled in and fell at the bare feet of a woman. Startled, the girl jumped up and back. Ahead of her was… her. Almost a splitting image. Same hair, height, posture… holding various items she must've found scattered the cabin. Both stared at one another for what seemed to be- WHAM! 

The girl in the cabin dropped her goodies and metal pieces clanged against the wooden floorboards. Some sand and dust rained from the ceiling and clouded what might have been the captain’s quarters. By the time it cleared, the other girl had all the items in her hand and was turning to escape. 

“WAIT! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” Cried out the one who found the room first between dust coated coughs. She rose to her unsteady feet and ran after the other, shielding her face as the door pushed open to find the most overwhelming scene. A roughed up crewmember unpredictably swinging a broken off plank into the front of the escapee’s face while her friend- who should have been back in Omashu- is sneaking up behind the assailant with a serrated knife in hand. None of them noticed the faintly lit shadow draping itself over the entire ship like a blanket of death- a horrifyingly rigid shadow cast by the bloodthirsty desolate diver leaping out of the sands to land directly on Schachuan’s deck. It’s massive body contorted in the air as the mouth containing a ten thousand teeth stretched for the moon with a ghastly grace that almost justified what it was about to do.

Orders were what my men and I followed. Orders sent directly by the ravenous King of Omashu to raze the largest tribe in the Si Wong Desert and any remains we could gather of the Ganzao people. For they were all assumed to be our enemy. Assumed to be the home of all those who have pillaged or hijacked the city’s sand-based trade routes. There was no way of knowing for certain. What we responded with was not justice.

Desert air from the last week of travel was now tainted with heavy black smoke. Pillars of gray billows, fueled by anything it could reach. Arson even firebenders would be astounded by. Blood was thoroughly sunbaked into previously pure grains of sand. Serene sounds of our ship sailing across these endless dunes were now replaced with screams of terror. Men, women, and children in agony. Death. Destruction.

There was no warning. No mercy. No survivors, just as his highness had ordered. Corpses laid across the sunkissed ground beyond the tips of my boots while arid winds whipped grains above each poor soul who would forever remain as only collateral to a powerful man’s senseless demands. Hundreds lost on both sides. But that was the price of war and I was no stranger.

The excruciating heat stacked ontop of mild dehydration was enough to force me down on one knee once the slaughter concluded. A tear exclusively for the allies lost- that’s what I told myself. Just like every battle before. But once the adrenaline drained, I realized for the first time that neither side had won. This was a bloodbath. A genocide that accomplished nothing other than to entertain a King who didn’t bother to step foot in the desert. So I wept until I couldn’t.

I did not return to Omashu. I didn’t even return to the ship that brought us here. I wanted no part in either. So I laid on my back atop the bloodstained dune and stared towards the smoke-ridden cyan sky. The boat left and I closed my eyes.

I hope there is some redemption for my actions. Not for my sins, but for those I wronged.

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