Chapter 5: Shifting Sands
Let wind and earth conspire your song,
And lift you briefly through the air,
To wait beneath the path you’ve wronged,
For shifting sands to bring you there
Two days earlier.
Feng’s face was the stone he controlled as he walked down to the pier. Behind him, he felt the vibrations of the team he controlled, strong but uncertain. He didn’t blame them. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do either. All he knew was that they couldn’t stay on Fire Nation grounds, not unless they wanted to be scorched from the inside out with the Fire Lord-to-be’s lightning.
He still didn’t understand what had happened.
They had always shown their loyalty. Always. It hadn’t been a question of choosing between the man he was named for and a new leader, it had been a matter of meeting the strength of one who could wield them as they had always meant to be. A weapon. No more would they inspire fear in common grovelling citizens. They could be the elite units of a new era, the only Earthbenders allowed to practice, and the army of the ever-ascending Fire Princess.
But somewhere along the way, it had gone wrong.
Feng looked up and saw the endless expanse of ocean greeting them. His emotionless eyes roved around the ships, trying to pick one suitable for his purpose. With the news of the Phoenix King’s coming victory, most were packed with units prepared to secure the rest of the Earth Kingdom. Those would have to do. It wasn’t like they had any choice.
A muscle in his cheek twitched, jerking under his unfathomable skin. The truth was that they didn’t have a choice either way. The Earth Kingdom as they knew it would be obliterated, and as proclaimed exiles from their ruler, they might face a similar fate. Still, between a protracted, miserable existence and a quick, pain-filled death by blue flame, Feng knew exactly which one he would choose.
The Dai Li were strong. There was yet a chance they could survive in this hostile world. There was yet a chance that they could reclaim their position. The Fire Princess had been slipping. Perhaps the Phoenix King’s victory were not assured...
Feng frowned. That would probably make matters even worse. The Avatar would not be likely to look kindly on those who had once been his adversaries. That would make little sense.
Feng’s frown deepened. Either way, whatever happened, he and his agents were caught. Trapped. He suddenly wanted to sink his feet into the ground and pull up mountains, make the earth crash beneath him and shudder this part of the world in a quake of fury none of them had ever seen before...
He calmed.
“Guang. Hai. We will board the second ship from the left when it leaves.”
His men behind him, whose rock-hard nerves had been strained by the wait, finally relaxed. The anticipation was over. Come what may, they had a path again. The decision had been made. They would follow it to the end, until...
“I don’t think you want to do that.”
Feng’s shaded head snapped around. The man on the pier regarded him coolly, the sharp edges of his armour hidden under a blood-red cloak. As one, the Dai Li raised their hands into battle position and readied themselves, but whoever he was, the man only looked slightly bored as he regarded them.
“Who are you?” Feng asked quietly.
The man smiled, and Feng observed that he had a perfect line of white teeth that flashed like a predator’s. “I, Feng, am whoever you want me to be. A friend, a leader, an ally... an enemy.”
Feng’s expression did not change as he tightened his stance. “What do you want?”
The man’s smile widened, and there was something about it that made him feel uneasy. It was the smile of a cat-shark, and it reminded Feng so uncannily of his former mistress that he had to check his surroundings. He still wasn’t ready to die just yet.
“I want the world,” the man said.
If possible, Feng’s already tried nerves stretched a bit tighter. It was never good to bargain with someone insane, and yet the aura of command shimmering around the man looked as if he had no choice.
“What do you want?” Feng repeated quietly.
The man’s smile disappeared. “I want to be sure. I want to be certain. There is far too much hanging at stake, so I want to be ready for any contingency. And that’s why I want you to take the third boat.”
Feng paused, and then gave the man a measured look. He wasn’t young - perhaps in his middle years, but his body was as hard and war-trained as Feng’s own. There seemed to be no distinguishing feature that Feng could use to pick him out of a crowd; every other Fire Nation man he had seen had the same topknot, the same build, the same...
Feng’s gaze travelled up the man’s eyes, and that was when the Dai Li decided to give him a name. Hawk Eyes. Because somehow, Feng was very sure that he would never know the man’s true identity. The makeshift moniker would have to suffice.
Feng’s eyes slipped, and he noticed that the stranger’s secretive, predatory smile had returned. Reluctantly, Feng allowed himself a quick glance again at the pier. The boat in question was yet another war boat bound for the Earth Kingdom, and he relaxed the control over himself just enough to let his features frown again.
“How is that any different?”
Feng saw the amusement cross over Hawk-eyes’ face. “It will allow you to be contacted, and to be used. I would hurry. It leaves soon.”
Feng felt the tremors in the ground. He knew without looking that the rest of his team was staring at his green-clad back, waiting for his decision. He looked at the man’s sharp, claw-scarred cheek and then back into his eyes.
“Very well,” he said, and hoped he wasn’t making a deadly mistake.
Whatever comfort had been drawn from his decision, however, was soon lost. As Feng turned away, readying himself to board the ship, Hawk-eyes’ clear cut voice rang out once more.
“What of the last company of Dai Li?”
Feng paused, frozen. He didn’t know how long the man had been at the pier, or how long he had kept watch. He knew himself that two companies had gone ahead of him, but yet he didn’t see any on the ships now. The urge to ask, to question what exactly was going on was so strong that he almost opened his mouth to let the words out, but then his rock-hard will reasserted himself.
He would show no weakness. Because weakness would be destroyed.
“They are following,” Feng said emotionlessly, not looking back at the stranger. Feeling the life suddenly jolt back into his legs, the Dai Li company leader walked towards their designated ship, wondering at what would happen.
From behind him, he heard a low chuckle.
“Perfect,” Hawk-eyes said, and when Feng’s will snapped and he finally turned his head, the man had disappeared.
8 8 8
Fire.
Aang wasn’t sure what he had expected, after all this was the Fire Nation. But still, as he ghosted high above the capital and watched the flames disperse, he felt a cold chill nestling in his stomach.
The uprising had been put down, seconds before they arrived. The remaining Imperial Firebenders had been well-trained for events like these, but Aang shuddered to witness their cool efficiency in the face of their own people. Not he wasn’t all right with the fact that the young men and women were in custody now as he flew. The problem went far deeper than that.
Aang closed his eyes and soared. There really wasn’t much point to him doing a surveillance check, he knew that. Anyone else who wanted to cause trouble tonight would have to deal with the soldiers; an entire garrison of them had already been reclaimed from outposts near the city. But the air cleared his thoughts, and he wanted to give Zuko some time before he returned. As the Fire Prince had stood and heard the cries of his people, the air still smoking around him, the night had made the shadows swallow his scar.
Aang felt a pulse in his heart, and he urged his glider higher with a gust of wind. The Fire Nation looked peaceful from up here. What he had seen minutes before had proved that it was not. Aang sighed and let the glider fall again, bringing him closer to the ground. Had he truly expected everything to be all right after he defeated Ozai? For everything to fall into place?
No.
But inside, a part of him had hoped that that would be true. Still, as Avatar Aang was faced with the reality, he couldn’t help but feel the internal strength settle from within him, the sense of completion, power, and purpose he’d felt from the moment his back had hit the rock.
The rock. A smile came to Aang’s face. He’d have to tell Toph that it was earth that had finally freed his chakras of their blockage. That it was earth that had saved the world and the Avatar from Ozai’s fire. She’d love that. He probably wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks.
Sighing again, Aang let his flight spiral into a turn and swung back towards the Fire Palace. Zuko was likely there already, waiting in the courtyard. The rest of them would be there as well. And Katara.
She’d be there too.
Aang breathed, and felt his heart thump painfully against his ribs. The look on her face had been... he been so close to shifting into the Avatar state then and there, before jerking back, horrified at the thought. Katara didn’t deserve that. He’d seen the truth written in her body, in her expressive, beautiful eyes. He’d known she hadn’t meant it. He’d known that.
And yet, he was still so angry.
Aang breathed again, and felt the spirit of hundreds of Avatars before him consolidate within him shakily. He was angry, yes, but he wasn’t so sure that it was at her. And so he pushed it away, consciously drawing upon the shifting balance of power inside him. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to it, but he knew now how natural it felt. He was the Avatar. There was no running away from that. And now that he not only mastered the elements, but mastered himself, he could control his feelings. He could let his duties come first. He could do this.
...
But not quite yet.
Aang let the wind carry him down into the Fire Palace, seeing the forms of Zuko and the Imperial Firebenders awaiting. With them came the last chance of peace, and Aang closed his eyes briefly before alighting. Whatever the future would bring, he knew that he would have to consolidate himself, and to do that, he would have to find answers to the feelings inside him. He wasn’t naive enough anymore to think that with the mastering of the Avatar state, his journey was over. If anything, speaking to all of his past selves had told him that.
Aang opened his eyes, saw the Fire Prince approaching, and controlled his breath. It was time to visit Guru Pahtik again. He knew that. But at the moment, the immediacy of the situation meant he had to deal with this first.
“Everything clear, Avatar?” Zuko asked, his voice rasping slightly. Aang briefly wondered how loud he’d had to shout, had to scream over the crowd; their soon-to-be ruler ascended on a flame of fire. He nodded, and saw the Prince physically relax before turning back to the nearest guard. The man flipped his helmet open, and Aang had to search his memory for a name. Chen Lu? Shen Lu? Shen Li? One of them sounded right.
“I doubt there will be another attack tonight,” the guard captain said quietly. “Perhaps we should retire to the palace to talk things through.”
Aang saw Zuko’s frown, then his nod, and understood. Perhaps we should get inside so no one else can hear.
And as the Avatar followed in the footsteps of his friend, hearing the phalanx of Fire Nation guards close behind him, he knew that he suddenly hated this situation.
They talked into the night; the Avatar, Zuko, and the guard captain. Aang only questioned Shen Li’s presence once, and had immediately regretted it when a dark shadow passed across the Fire Prince’s face. And eventually, he was almost glad for it. Shen Li seemed to know things that neither had considered, not even Zuko with his royal upbringing. Matters like the minutiae of treaties, the contracts that would be needed, the problems of levies, taxes, internal and external affairs, reparations, imports and exports, restructuring the market. Aang still wasn’t quite sure how they all exactly tied into the matter at hand; the fact that there was some sort of rebel movement against them already. But he was beginning to get a picture of the rest of his life, and he wasn’t liking how it looked.
When Shen Li finally mentioned the matter of keeping some of the old Fire Nation generals on hand, to pacify the noble families, the Avatar finally cracked.
“Look, I’m sorry guys. I know how this is the way things have always been done, but this isn’t the way we’re going to end this. Not like this.”
Shen Li had long abandoned his helmet, and he interlinked his fingers as he leaned forwards. “I’m sorry, Avatar,” he said softly. “I know that after the war, such unpleasantness is hard to take. But it will have to be done, else the world will fall into battle again.”
Aang’s mouth hardened, and he stood up. “Not under my watch, it won’t. I managed to defeat Fire Lord Ozai without killing him. This can be different too.”
The guard captain was still. “It is my country...” his eyes flashed quickly to Zuko and then turned back. “It is our country that will suffer the most under what is to come,” he murmured. “Believe me when I say that I don’t want this to pass as much as you. But it will happen. So we must be prepared.”
Aang felt the quiet within him, felt the strength. “No. I ended this war without hatred, I’m going to make sure the peace starts without it as well. And everyone is just going to have to deal with that.”
Even as he said the words, he knew he was being stubborn. But every word rang true to his ear and fell close to his heart. He saw a rising flicker of irritation behind Shen Li’s eyes as he moved to speak, but then Zuko moved first.
“What will come will come. Perhaps it’s getting too late tonight for this.”
Aang opened his mouth to reply, but then clamped it shut and let a small grin dance over his face. Who’d have ever guessed that Angry Boy would become a diplomat?
“Agreed,” Shen Li said at last, sitting back into his chair. “We have much to do tomorrow. The Ministerial meeting, the ordering of affairs... and something surprising will invariably come up.” A sudden thought seemed to occur to him, and he cocked his head. “And have you looked at that second scroll I brought you, Prince Zuko?”
Aang watched with some curiosity as Zuko jerked. “What second scroll?”
Shen Li’s eyes widened slightly. “The one I left near your desk last night. I... assumed that you would notice it.”
Zuko opened his mouth as if to let out a curse, but then breathing deeply. “Okay. That’s fine. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow.”
Aang looked from one to the other, noting the sudden tension in both. “Well if we’re done here, I guess I’d better go get some rest.”
He made it five steps to the door before he heard Zuko’s own chair scrape across the floor. The Avatar turned, questioning, to see yet another shadow chase itself across his friend’s face.
“Zuko?” he asked uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”
The Fire Prince paused, and Aang could almost see Zuko’s thoughts chasing themselves across his face. Finally Zuko cleared his throat slightly and looked squarely at him.
“We’ll need you, Avatar.”
There was a beat, and Aang inclined his head without changing his expression. He’d gotten so used to hearing his name from Zuko that it was a shock to hear his title again. And yet he knew why Zuko had done it, and he felt the responsibility settle in on his shoulders like a cloak.
“I’ll be ready,” Aang promised, and let the door close between them.
8 8 8
Fire.
Chanting.
Burning.
Zuko rode on a wave of flame, and wasn’t he glad that the palanquin had never made it in time? Because really... even if it wasn’t the place of a prince to walk anywhere, a litter would have been too out of place here.
The crowd swelled, a circle around the Imperial Firebenders standing back to back and throwing warning flame at their own people. He was only glad that it wasn’t the crowd he had to fear.
No.
It was a small, small group of men and women. Some young, some old. They looked so normal, his people. Even as their faces twisted and their eyes screamed and the hatred in their voice burnt his soul.
“DOWN WITH PRINCE ZUKO! DOWN WITH THE TRAITOR PRINCE! DOWN! DOWN! DOWN!”
And so he’d gone up.
Against the dragging voices, the weights on his feet and his heart, Zuko let the fire beneath him spiral up until he was soaring, and the sheer exuding heat of that pillar of flame made the uprisers subdue. And he’d spoken with the Avatar coiled in the air above him, spoken in time with his friend so that their combined voices rolled across the square.
“Enough!”
And it had been.
Zuko only wished that the memory, that the dream had ended there.
No.
Because as Prince Zuko had lifted his arm and gestured, had watched the now silent crowd disperse and the group be herded away by his guards, it had kept going.
In real life, Zuko had not heard the whistle of the dart. In his dream, it shrieked in his ear as loud as banshee. He wondered if in this nightmare it would land this time, hit its mark and bury itself in his heart. He watched it morbidly as it came closer, a tiny package of death and hatred.
Despite all that had happened, all that he’d been through, all that he’d done... he was still only seventeen.
Zuko waited for the end.
But before it could hit, there was another sound... a sharp scything through the air. And then a body leapt up, and Zuko knew without looking that it was Shen Li.
Zuko fell back down to earth.
In real life, the guards had remained, the Avatar hovering protectively above him had remained. In the dream, the entire Fire Nation capital became empty and shadow-like, a husk that threatened to fall apart with a breath. Zuko landed heavily and felt his knees buckle. He groaned and then stood up, because he never gave up, not without a fight. Never without a fight. And he walked towards the kneeling,bowing, figure of his guard, and saw the dart presented up to him like a gift.
Zuko picked it up and rolled it over in his fingers. It was cool but sticky, and the strangeness of that fact hit his nervous system before it hit his mind. Zuko dropped it, and it rang like a tolling bell as it hit the floor.
“Shen Li?” he whispered, his voice as husk-like as his city.
“Poison, my Lord,” the guard captain confirmed, before raising his head and showing Zuko the livid red burn of a scar across his face, a scar that licked at his eye, spread its mangled mess down to his cheek, extended out to his ear...
Zuko screamed...
And woke.
It was still dark outside. The Fire Prince sat up, his gasping breaths sending bursts of air across the bed. The sweat-stained sheets stuck to his skin. It was warm, but the fire in his room had long died down and he felt far too shaky to do anything about it.
Well.
It had been a while since he had had such a nightmare.
Zuko shivered, feeling the sweat cooling on his body. The gauzy curtains that surrounded the bed suddenly seemed too stifling, so he swung his legs over the edge and stood. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his dresser and the dart that lay on it. Shuddering, he turned away.
Sleep still gummed his eyes, and he wiped it away as he stepped into the center of his room. Gradually, he felt the cool breeze wafting in from his open window waken him. His breathing evened out, and Zuko closed his eyes and felt the air brush gently against him. It was all right. He was all right.
Still, he felt too awake now, and far too wired to go back to sleep. Sighing, he cast a glance around the emptiness of his room. He couldn’t stay here for the next couple of hours, or however long it would taken until the sun rose. Zuko threw a heavy robe around his shoulders and set out into the corridor without thinking, letting his footsteps carry him instinctively to where he was needed.
Because the Fire Prince had work to do.
Lots of work.
The door to the Fire Lord’s bedchamber came closer as he patted towards it, looming towards him like something alive. He kept his features steady as he swung it open and stepped through. He still refused to sleep there... and he wasn’t planning to until he was forced by his coronation. He immediately turned left and stepped into his study.
It hadn’t been more then twelve hours since he’d left it, but already it seemed like his desk had been hit by an explosion. Zuko stepped past the map on the floor with a groan to survey the damage. The neatly ordered columns of documents he’d remembered had somehow multiplied, and then bred into mountains of ungainly heaps. Scowling, Zuko lit a flame in his palm without thinking. It hovered there for a second, dancing in the air, before he extinguished it with a sigh. It wouldn’t do for him to burn his office down only two days after moving in. It just wouldn’t do.
There were at least three reports on the agricultural state of the Nation, five on the infrastructural, and two on the global economy. Zuko rubbed the bridge of his nose absentmindedly as he read. Their coffers had been noticeably dented by the war, but the spoils that had come with the battle had kept their heads well above sinking level. Not to mention, it seemed that they had fairly high levels of employment. He rubbed his nose again. From what he’d been taught, this was all fairly characteristic of a war-time economy... but that wasn’t what they were now. They’d have to make some serious adjustments, and fast, otherwise they’d be sinking quicker than a ostrich-horse in summer.
That was depressing. Zuko shook his head. He’d go through all of this when he met with the Ministers... after all, they were the experts in this. He’d knew he had to be careful; he couldn’t trust half of them as far as he could throw them. And that was probably an underexaggeration, especially since he was sure he could throw them relatively far. If the timing had been right, Zuko would have wanted to literally throw out the lot of them, preferably into the dungeon where they likely belonged. But to do that now would result in an uproar amongst the rest of the nobility, uncertainty, problems, backstabbing... the worst case scenario there would lead to a civil war being dumped on his hands, and he hadn’t even been crowned Fire Lord yet.
Zuko sighed. He’d have to listen to them for now, it seemed, although that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t cross check their words against his own meagre knowledge. He had had a basic grasp of the principles drilled into him over the years as Prince by patient and diligent tutors, but that was really all he had. He just hoped that it would suffice. Because for any balance, any honour to be restored after this, reparations would have to be made. And the last time he checked, reparations cost a lot of money.
Still, there were other things to be attended to first. Things like recalling the armies, signing the papers, releasing the war prisoners...
Prisoners...
Mai.
Suddenly, Zuko felt an incredible rush of guilt rip through his chest. Mai. He hadn’t thought of her since that breathtaking moment at the Boiling Rock... and then a few times afterwards, perhaps. But then again, thoughts of her at that time had been easily eclipsed by the thought of the comet and the ending of the Earth Kingdom as they all knew it. Still, that was no reason for him to have forgotten now, when he had time to think. Mai. What had happened to Mai after the Boiling Rock? A slow shudder passed through his frame. Surely Azula wouldn’t have killed her loyal friend? Suddenly, he wanted to run back and question her, but no... that was stupidity. Azula was dead. She couldn’t answer him.
Zuko breathed. He’d thought about prisoners, and that had been what had led him to thoughts of Mai. And that was logical, wasn’t it? Mai was far more likely to be imprisoned somewhere, she’d been on the Boiling Rock, after all. Zuko stood up abruptly, preparing to make immediate orders for the release of all political prisoners and a copy of the prisoner records in the last month, but as he did so, the scrolls he’d been perusing fell to the ground with a clatter.
Their sound brought him back into his reality, and Zuko stiffened for a moment before making his choice. Sighing, he sat back down again, replacing the scrolls on the desk and looking at the other papers he had to go through. Most likely, he’d find the prisoner records here, anyway... just another thing for him to check over. But more importantly, he had to attend to this work first anyway. This entire, fragile peace and the unsure aftermath ahead of him likely rested at least partially on how quickly he was able to recall all of his units, and so that was what he had to focus on now.
He breathed. Mai, and his own guilt about that, could wait. Zuko raised his hand and pushed aside the economic scrolls, before digging through the rest of the piles with a resigned sigh.
It was only when he was half way through that he remembered the scroll, remembered Shen Li’s eyebrow and the unspoken disapproval in his voice. Zuko’s head shot up, and his eyes went immediately to drawers beside the desk.
It was there.
Zuko felt a curious mix of relief and annoyance as he reached towards it. It looked so innocuous sitting there... he was hardly surprised that he hadn’t noticed it for the past day. Still, if there was one lesson that Zuko had learnt well, it was that looks were deceiving.
He lifted the ribbon, took a cursory glance at the seal, and then melted it open with his fingertips carefully. Laying the still-imprinted wax on the wood, he unrolled it slowly.
There were no words. That was the first thing that he realised. There were only lines and dots, swirls that joined together to form an indiscernible picture. Zuko stared at it, before smoothing it down onto his desk to look at it properly. Now that he could see it in its entirety, he saw that the outermost line snaked around the most of the scroll like a demented border, with a smaller line encompassing only one corner and finishing there. Inside the first shape, there were more lines, some sharp like rivers, others cut like spiky mountains. It took him a moment to realise that that was exactly what they were.
Zuko frowned and stepped back as far as he could without letting the scroll roll back up into itself. So it was a map, geography of some kind... but what exactly did that mean?
He froze.
Agni, he was stupid.
Zuko spun around and slapped the scroll to the floor, not caring anymore about caution. He pressed one knee to its bottom and reached his hand out to pin it at the top. The spread-out diagram lay flat against the larger, blood-coloured map on the floor, and Zuko felt a rush of energy hit his stomach.
He’d been right.
The scroll he lay pressed on was a roughly sketched picture of the Weiji coast, a small province nestled to the far south-east of the Fire Nation Capital, perhaps a few days’ travel away.
Zuko flicked his eyes to the map on the floor, and then back to the scroll with a frown. If that were true, that would mean that the smaller shape that extended past the corner had to be an Earth Kingdom Peninsula. Both maps were scattered with small pockets of dots, and Zuko wasn’t sure what to make of them until his eyes fell on the soldier figurines.
Of course.
Zuko shifted, and the bottom of the scroll rolled up to hit his fingers. Spreading it out again, he let his eyes flash from one picture to the next, each time confirming the growing fear in his gut.
An army.
Of Fire Nation soldiers.
Almost on his doorstep.
And even though it would only be two days before he was crowned as Fire Lord... Zuko was somehow vehemently sure that whoever these men followed, it sure as hell wasn’t him.
