Chapter 16: Against the Sun A/N - Just a tiny note: I know that Shen Li isn’t technically a guard captain anymore, but for so Chapter 16: Against the Sun
A/N - Just a tiny note: I know that Shen Li isn’t technically a guard captain anymore, but for some reason that title rolls a lot easier on the keyboard than Chief Bodyguard. So I hope no-one minds if I keep using it.
Don’t look.
Things are weak if you’ve only heard them.
Don’t look,
Because truth bears a burden.
Don’t look,
You’ll burn your eyes ‘gainst the golden sun.
Don’t look,
Because something’s begun.
His first thought was to leap after her, but then the non-suicidal and more rational side of him took over. Carefully, Shen Li pushed aside his roiling emotions, slipped into his military training, and turned away from the cliff-side to assess his situation. The five earthbenders were still down for the count, but there was no way of telling how long they would remain incapacitated for. He would have to decide, and decide quickly.
It took only a moment for the rather satisfying image of slapping one awake (preferably the last one) and then ruthlessly questioning him to arise in his mind. For a second, Shen Li held it sweetly in contemplation and then reluctantly pushed it away. Although he was certain these earthbenders could provide the two pieces of information he needed, there was the problem of him being outnumbered, mostly unequipped, and on foot. Any time taken out for a useful interrogation would likely be quickly used against him, and as much as he wanted to wreak some vengeance, to taste some blood, he couldn’t now unless he wanted the tables to turn.
Shen Li resisted the urge to swear. Here he was in the perfect position to complete the first part of his mission, but with no way of putting the information to use or of surviving the process. To say it was frustrating was an understatement. Cold anger reared its head as he surveyed the fallen earthbenders, but then even that vanished away to be replaced by a stab of pain. The earthbenders. The earth. Mai...
He took a few steps back to the cliff-side to clear his head, gazing down at the water with almost desperate eyes. It was a considerable fall, and the foam below suggested the treachery of jagged rocks. Despite himself, his heart rate quickened, a slow feeling of dread beginning to overwhelm him. Even if she had survived the fall itself, which was looking more unlikely by the moment, she would have been cut to pieces by the stone knives beneath the rapids. He shut his eyes tight against the picture of the pounding water, refusing to contemplate that there was a possibility, and eventuality, a likelihood...
... and then a quick image of her leapt into his mind; sharply sardonic, cutting, and as strong as her blades. Shen Li took a deep breath and stepped back, oddly comforted. She was alive, he told himself grimly. She had to be. And so all he had to do was find her.
His mind set, the guard captain turned back clinically to the three earthbenders in the clearing and began checking them. Running his hands impersonally over pockets and pouches, he felt a slight pang of disappointment when he turned up nothing but a few packets of army rations. Attaching them to his own belt, he walked back into the forest to search the last two.
This time, he was met with a little more success. The man who Mai had pinned to the tree with her senbon had a roughly sketched map in his pocket. Holding it up to the moonlight, Shen Li quickly scanned it. The haste with which it had been drawn alerted his suspicions first, and by the time he managed to match it with the landmarks he knew, he was sure that the map only detailed a succession of temporary camps for the earthbender scouts as opposed to the base stronghold of the rebel army itself.
Still... the scouts would have to return somewhere for the night, and if they weren’t fools they would bring along the basilisks. An idea alighted in his mind, and Shen Li quickly pinpointed their next camp and memorised it, before crouching down beside the felled man and carefully tucking the map back where he found it.
Straightening, the guard captain surveyed the surroundings. There was nothing left to do here, as much as he would have loved to beat them into consciousness and demand answers. With a controlled sigh, he readied his wires to propel him into the trees, but then a glint at the corner of his eye stopped him.
He turned. Mai’s senbon glittered, the thin shaft of moonlight highlighting the sleekness of its strength. On impulse, Shen Li suddenly reached forwards and worked the needle free. It fell into his hand like it belonged, and its weight was enough for him to pull the others out as well. The earthbender slumped to the ground with a muffled thump, but Shen Li paid no attention as he carefully secreted the deadly treasures in his tunic. And then, smoothing the fabric once again to assure himself of their existence, Shen Li reached up once more towards the sky.
8 8 8
Colours.
They were the first things she saw - muted navys, swirling blues and ethereal whites that floated like eiderdown around her vision as she opened her eyes. And then they turned into dirty, throbbing greys, and Mai gasped and fell back into unconsciousness.
8 8 8
The second time Mai awoke, hot afternoon sun burned into her skin. Slowly, she clawed her way up into the land of the living. She regretted it almost instantly when the pain hit her like a wave of fire, jerking her up with an agonised hiss.
“Shh...” someone whispered. She felt a gentle but insistent hand on her abdomen, pushing her down again. “You’re all right. Just stay still.”
Bile boiled up in her throat. Instinctively, Mai tried to struggle against it, against the healing fingers holding her down, but then her own body rebelled against her. She had a moment to catch her breath, and then her lungs heaved. Coughing and hacking, Mai spat the last remnants of river water out of her chest. When she was done, she collapsed back, exhausted. Pain knifed across her ribs, her back, her head... the noblewoman couldn’t figure out a place where it didn’t hurt. It was as if blinding shards of glass were scraping inside her skin, turning her inside out. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed against the pain, trying to bring everything under control.
The voice stirred over her again, and she realised it had been speaking to her even while she’d been fighting for air. “It’s going to be all right. It’s going to be all right now. That was the last of it. Shh...”
Irately, the part of her that wasn’t concentrating on dealing with the pain reared. How did she know it was going to be okay? Had she just been drowned? Had she passed out who-knew-when with the thought that it was all over? To be honest, if it hadn’t been for the fact that agony was searing itself into every known inch of her body, Mai would have doubted that she was still alive.
As it was, only life could be this much pain.
“It’s okay now, it’s okay...”
Strangely enough, the words seemed vaguely lulling in her dazed state now, as she battled to keep the pain from devouring her consciousness whole. Mai concentrated on the sound, on the soothing timbre of it and the smooth trickling of the water behind it. The river was calmer now, she thought hazily. Less angry. Less sharp. Less pain-filled...
It was at that moment that she realised the river that had tossed her bodily from rock to rock like a helpless rag doll wasn’t the only thing that had changed. She felt a soft glow suffusing her chest, where the pain had concentrated like some living heartbeat of hurt. With a gasp of surprise, Mai’s eyes shot open and she tried to push herself upwards. The calming voice broke off in a cry of alarm and warning, and Mai had just enough time to see the blurred form of two wide blue eyes before her body collapsed beneath her wounds and she blacked out again.
8 8 8
The third time, Mai thought groggily, really was the charm. This time she kept her eyes shut against the darkness, swimming slowly back to consciousness as she fought to clear her mind. It was hard work beating back the choking fog, and so she tried to concentrate on taking a mental inventory of her body. As her awareness grew, she sent it down each of her limbs, testing each digit and muscle gingerly as she went. Everything still hurt, but it was lessened now. There were dull throbs where there had been sharp, sticky pain, and in some areas the hurt had even died down to a low ache. Vaguely reassured underneath her suspicion, Mai decided to take a chance and slowly creak one eye open.
This time, the blessed comfort of night brushed against her eyelashes. Mai sighed in relief and tried to get up. Surprisingly, this time she managed to struggled all the way up to her elbows before cool hands were supporting her, and the voice had returned.
“Careful now. That’s it. Sit up slowly. You’re probably going to feel a bit dizzy and maybe even...”
Mai felt her stomach revolt, and before she knew it she was keeling over and retching weakly at her side. The hands moved firmly down to support her shoulders and back, one of them smoothing her hair away and holding her steady. Natural tears squeezed up long dried ducts, expelling the last of the dust and grit as she vomited up mud and river dregs. When it was over, she fell back drained, but oddly cleansed, and the angle at which her head tilted confirmed all of her earlier suspicions.
She wet her lips with a dry tongue. “Water...” she croaked.
Instantly it was brought to her mouth, cool and refreshing, and she washed the bile and old blood out with a grimace. On the second sip, she swallowed, and the movement brought a cold wave of life across her body that jolted her back into the land of the mostly functioning. Instantly, she felt the fog thin from her mind and her lessened pain visit her again, scrabbling at the corners of her mind with broken nails as she tried to focus on her saviour.
“You,” she said.
What was her name again? She’d forgotten. She’d never really cared, after all, but for some reason it now seemed very important. Mai tried desperately to search the shreds of her mind that were functioning properly, but when they turned up blank she gave up. Leaning heavily against the tree at her back, she instead returned her attention to the other girl, trying to read an answer from her face.
It was surprisingly easy. The waterbender sat back on her heels and regarded her guardedly, as if unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. Mai watched as emotions flitted freely across her browned face, as smooth and natural as quicksilver. She was still watching in captivated fascination when the girl seemed to settle on some kind of resolution, and a ghost of a smile turned her lips.
“Mai, isn’t it?”
In the dizziness of her shock, Mai didn’t even bother to nod. “And you?” she rasped.
The waterbender touched a light hand to her breastbone. “Katara.”
The name hung in the air for a moment, and then slowly faded away in the silence. It was to be the last word spoken for a while; slowly, the two girls took the time to study one another, the first sleek with water and the other sharp as steel. They had met across enough battlefields in the past to know each other as a shadow, a figure to be lashed out at the instant their silhouette fell into vision. But now the ground was different, and they both tried to find their footing in the evening light.
Finally, Katara bridged the gap, and somehow, Mai wasn’t surprised. “I heard what you did at the Boiling Rock,” she said, her voice warm even though her eyes were still wary. “Thank you.”
It was funny, the way the waterbender’s emotions spilled and danced across her face. For the first time ever, Mai saw them, really saw them, and in her still slightly-shocked state she wondered at their raw beauty. “I didn’t do it for your brother,” she felt obligated to explain. The words slid painfully from her still sore throat. “I didn’t do it for you.”
Surprisingly, the guarded gratefulness stayed on Katara’s features, bringing out the blue of her eyes and the kindness of her smile. “I know, but it still saved him and my dad. And for that, I... I owe you.”
Mai started. She hadn’t ever thought of it that way before. She wasn’t sure what to think, not when the waterbender girl was looking at her with open features free of fear and distrust. With something akin to... promise? Unreasonably, Mai felt a surge of panic begin to flutter in her chest. In her world, promises came with strings attached, and she just wasn’t ready to leap back into that game with this former enemy she barely knew. “You don’t owe me anything,” she shot back harshly, rising up slightly with the vehemence of her words. The movement sent a dull lance of pain through her body and she fell back with a gasp. Instantly, Katara moved forwards to help, but Mai threw a hand up to ward her away. There was an uncomfortable silence as the noblewoman eased herself painstakingly back onto the support of the tree.
For a few moments, all she could hear was the song of the river and the rasp of her own breathing. Finally, Mai snorted bitterly, taking in her situation with an indefatigable sense of dry irony. “If anything, I owe you,” she said flatly.
The words were out before she knew it, and Mai watched with a dull sense of horror as they reached the waterbender’s ears. Something seemed to shift in her, changing the look on her face to thoughtfulness, and Mai was stunned at how easily she could let the feelings roll across her skin. “Not really,” Katara said quietly, a wry smile now touching her lips. “If you want to think of it as a debt thing, I think I just repaid a favour.”
Mai shook her head, and regretted it when it reintroduced a thumping headache she seemed to have forgotten. “There was no favour, I...”
Katara was there in a heartbeat, moving a thin swirl of water up to rest against her forehead. Mai froze, not entirely sure what was happening, but then her body relaxed in memory as a soft blue glow reached out to envelope her skin. Miraculously, the throbbing ache began to recede, and Mai closed her eyes in relief. Minutes must have passed like that, the waterbender crouched in front of her and a floating sensation surrounding her protectively like a shield. But of course, all good things had to end, and she felt a vague sense of disappointment when the water pulled away and reality returned in a rush.
“There, does that feel better?”
Mai looked up into clear blue eyes. “Yes,” she said, not trusting herself to nod. Katara smiled in response and moved back, giving her space to breathe again and remember the words that had led to the pain.
If anything, I owe you. It had to be one of the strangest conversations she’d ever had, and she’d had a few with Ty Lee as one of her best friends. Mai felt the surrealism of it wash over her like a ghostly wave, and it shifted something inside her, a weight she’d never known existed. It was stupid to admit such a weakness, she thought to herself savagely. And yet the waterbender, Katara hadn’t treated it like a weakness. The headache began to return as Mai grappled exhaustedly with the conundrum in front of her, her mind still dulled with shock and pain. It was almost a relief when Katara suddenly froze and the softness on her face vanished into business. At the change, Mai felt herself visibly relax.
There was danger. Physical, fightable danger. Even if she couldn’t understand the reason behind it, Mai could understand its nature and that comforted her. Still, when Katara suddenly rose to her feet, agitated, Mai felt her head spin when she realised that the girl had been sitting ankle-deep in the shallows the entire time.
“Again,” the girl muttered, somehow making it sound like a swearword. She glanced up quickly and met Mai’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I have to go somewhere to fix things. But I’ll be back.”
Mai had no time to reply before the waterbender vanished from her range of vision. There was a rustle behind her, a few curses and the sound of slipping fabric. And then Katara returned, and Mai’s eyes widened at the change.
“Stay here,” the waterbender warned, her blue eyes shimmering behind the veil. “It’s safe, and you shouldn’t be moving around too much.”
Mai said nothing, just nodded. She felt the other girl’s gaze on her for a moment, feather-light and uncertain like a delicate flower. It lingered for a while, prickling against her skin uncomfortably, but then Katara sighed and turned away. And at that moment, Mai remembered the full unreality of her situation, and she shook her head slightly in wonder.
By all rights, she should be dead. But instead she was alive, a patient of a former enemy and now, it seemed, a ward of the Painted Lady. In the face of such strange miracles, Mai did the only thing she could think of doing.
Slowly, painstakingly, she lifted her shoulders up, nestled back down again in the crook of the tree, and got comfortable.
8 8 8
Navigating was surprisingly easy in the thickness of the canopy. Despite landmarks being difficult to gauge amidst the forest, the pools of moonlight at the top of the trees also made sighting them slightly easier. Shen Li ghosted from tree to tree in the shadows, soaring silently through the branches like a bird. After a while, the movement began to almost relax him. He’d cut his teeth escaping from the smooth, grip-less marble of the Academy’s balconies, and so this wealth of secure holds and branches in the forest was mere child’s play. Before long, he had arrived at his destination, and he swung his weight around sharply to alight on a large bough.
Catching his breath, the guard captain stilled and checked his memory and the area lit by starlight before him. Reassured that this was indeed the place he was seeking, Shen Li glanced briefly at his more immediate surroundings, determining the amount of cover, the scope of vision, and the angle of attack the perch offered him. Those three requirements satisfied, he eyed the branch critically for its degree of comfort, and then sighed. Carefully folding his legs beneath him, Shen Li unwound his wire in preparation and then settled down to wait.
Hours must have passed, hours that trickled past as slowly as minutes. As he grew bored of ruminating, Shen Li found himself reaching into the pocket of material over his heart and drawing out the senbon. Carefully, he held it up to the moonlight and examined it.
It was beautiful in its craftsmanship, its surface smooth, polished, and perfectly weighted for the throw. He turned it around in his fingers, appreciating its grace, its tapered point, its directness and reliability as a weapon. As it was, it probably wasn’t surprising that the senbon summoned up an image of its owner in his mind.
Shen Li closed his eyes, and in the relative safety of his position and the lack of any immediate problem to address, he allowed the memories of her wash over him in all its pain and wonder. It was strange, how he felt so at ease around her when she constantly kept him on his toes. It would be wise to never let his guard down when she was around, he knew that. She was too sharp, too astute for him to remain hidden for long if he was not careful. But still, from the moment he’d walked into her cell, something had clicked. It was so easy to work with her, to trade barbs with her, to fight with her...
Shen Li shifted in his seat and pondered. He had never met anyone like her. Not at the Academy, not in his years as a never-promoted guard captain at the palace. Now that he was forced to consciously consider it, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly was going on. Still, there was no doubt in his mind when it came to her status. Mai was unquestionably, irrevocably, tantalisingly... special.
Shen Li breathed, and then curled his hand protectively around the blade. Whatever it took, he would find her.
8 8 8
Fong was a highly organised man. His armour was polished daily and he ordered a Dai Li agent up early every morning to transport him to ground level for firebending practice. Not only that, his meticulous timetables of when, where, and by whom the strategic village attacks would be executed were catalogued neatly on his desk. In fact, the habit was almost obsessive. Each fresh piece of news was met by going over the maps again, integrating every titbit of information into his impressive arsenal of knowledge. This meant that villages marked for destruction one day would be radically revised the next if there was evidence that his spies had confirmed enough willing additions to their ranks.
It also meant that when five war parties were half a day late in reporting back, he began to lose his cool very quickly.
“Are you certain you haven’t seen anything?” he snapped.
The sentry shrugged helplessly. He was a relatively new recruit, otherwise he probably would have saluted out of fear. “They’ll come when they come, sir. You askin’ me about it every half hour certainly ain’t gonna speed up the process.”
He regretted the words as soon as he saw smoke start to curl up from the firebender’s clenched fists. Fong drew himself up, his gaze narrowed and deadly as a puma-snake.
“Firstly, private, you are to address me as Sergeant Major, not sir. Secondly, you are never to speak in such an insolent tone unless you wish to be sent to the front lines of the next city assault.”
His voice dropped low, almost honeyed and caressing in its promise of pain. “In fact, I’ve a mind to...”
Luckily, the sentry never had to find out what his punishment would be. From over the next hill rise, a piercing whistle sliced through Fong’s words. Instantly, the sentry scrambled to attention. “Sir! I-I mean, Sergeant Major! That’s them!
Immediately, Fong felt the apprehension seep from his muscles, to be replaced by the blissful feeling of irritation instead. With an almost serene look on his face, he began barking orders to everyone in sight. And when the first war party finally made it over the ridge, limping towards the entrance to their base camp, he was ready for them.
“Corporal Juan! I demand that you give me an answer for... sweet Agni, what happened?”
Juan instinctively straightened from where she was bowed underneath the weight of an injured soldier. At his pained yelp, however, she quickly lowered herself again. “Sergeant Major Fong,” she addressed him through gritted teeth. “I must see to the needs of my men.” Her derisive eyes flicked over to the man bringing up the flank of her group. “Let the peacock-bird tell you what has happened.”
Fong was still so surprised he could only nod mutely. This was not supposed to happen. We were not meant to meet any opposition! Attempting to maintain as much control as he could, he turned officiously to the man Juan had indicated, quickly recognising him as one of their top spokespeople, but also one of the few men in the camp held almost universally in contempt.
Still, as long as he did his job... “Jin-su, would you like to let me know what happened?” he asked carefully, preparing himself for the histrionics.
The man stared at him torturously. “It was horrible,” he gasped. “Absolutely horrible. I knew there was something wrong the instant we went into the village and I climbed up to give my speech.”
Fong repressed the urge to roll his eyes, barely succeeding in his already impatient state. “Who attacked you, Jin-su? Why has Corporal Juan, who I know to be one of the most cautious soldiers loyal to the cause, returned late and with so many wounded?”
The rabble-rouser gave a despairing wail, and then launched himself forwards. Presented with the problem of facing only a wall of smooth armour, which was admittedly difficult to dramatically cling to, he reached up further and grasped the Sergeant Major’s broad shoulders. “It was a Spirit! A horrible, ghostly spirit whose eyes burned like the sun on the sea and whose face was marked with blood!”
If it had been any other man, Fong would have thrown him off and burned his skin to the bone. But as annoying as Jin-su was, he was still their best recruiter. Even if some of the recruitment was forced. Besides, no one could incite fear and hatred and quell doubts like he could, and the army as a whole owed him a debt for his creation of their chant.
“We will not back down for the Avatar’s lackey! We will never bow to the traitor Prince!”
Even if it was written by a fool, the strength of it still made his blood boil, and they now had the numbers to prove it. And so Fong merely unhooked the actor’s fingers from his shoulder plates (resisting the temptation to break them as he went). “Tell me more.”
Jin-su was only too happy to oblige. “We had just begun the burning. I was on top of the pile, addressing the villagers with my stirring words. And then the mist starting crawling around us.”
Fong felt the oddest sense of his hair prickling. “Go on.”
“We paid it no attention at the beginning, but then it coalesced above the village like a thick spell... Then before we knew it... there was a hiss! And the entire cloud of mist began swirling like some witch tending to her bubbling cauldron. Corporal Juan told her men to fan out and protect us, but the mist just flew over and attacked the burning houses!”
Fong held up a hand in disbelief. “Hold on, Jin-Su. The mist attacked the houses? What next? It started attacking Juan and her men?” Do you honestly expect me to believe this?
Jin-su paused dramatically, and then uttered a single word. “Yes.”
The sergeant-major shook his head. “Go on,” he folded his arms across his chest.
“Once the flames were out, the smoke was so thick we could barely breathe. And then thick arms of water leapt from the river and began attacking with this mist! They seized the men in their tendrils and brought them down! Even the villagers were no longer listening to me.”
The sentry, who was still standing surreptitiously off to the side, tried very hard not to snigger at Jin-su’s suddenly put-off pout. But then the actor quickly recovered himself and plunged ahead with his tale.
“But that was only a prelude to the horror. An entire wave swept over two men and brought them down to the ground. And then it frosted. Before my very eyes, they were turned into struggling puppets encased in ice. Of course, I was still valiantly trying to carry on with my speech, but then the mist parted and she arrived.”
The actor leant closer, his widened eyes now only inches from Fong’s own. The terror and heightened theatrics twisted his face into a visage that made the Sergeant Major’s skin crawl. And then Jin-su’s voice dropped to a breathy whisper, and the almost comedic effect became spine-tingling.
“I thought at first that she was a girl, but then she soon revealed she was a spirit. No-one, nothing else could have that power. She... she walked across the water, and ice spread where he feet touched. And then, when our soldiers began firing...”
He shuddered, and this time clutched Fong’s neck collar. “She moved our blood, man. She reached inside and pulled. I saw a soldier dropping his weapon and joining his comrades on the ground, and then the mist just rolled over him and froze him to the spot as well. And then she looked at me, and my words shivered in my throat and stopped.”
To the side, the sentry wondered whether he could employ whoever this person was. Just to shut Jin-su up.
“And she... she lifted her head and stared at me from under the veil. I couldn’t see her clearly between the gauze and the mist, but my blood felt like it was running like ice. I knew not her name, but I knew then that she was a river spirit come to destroy us all. And then she reached inside and my limbs were moving, they were pulling me to the ground and rendering me helpless! My own arms and legs, disobeying me!”
Fong was now beginning to feel decidedly unsettled.
“But before I fell, I saw the brave Juan leap into the mist. The spirit turned to her and moved her back with a wave, like the ocean flicking a child’s toy onto the sand. And then the water slammed into her, and Corporal Juan finally called a retreat. And we picked up our comrades and vanished into the very forest where we’d lain for ambush not five minutes earlier.”
There was a dry footfall beside them, and Fong finally noticed Juan herself standing there, her arms now free of any injured compatriots. Her face was grim but steady, and he turned to her like a desperate man flailing for a lifeline.
“Is all this true, Juan? One... spirit took out your entire squad?”
Juan said nothing but reached to her belt, silently unsheathing her sword and offering it up to him for inspection. Even in the shadows lent by the overhanging of rock above their heads, he could see the dull gleam of blood on its edge, and he stared as he realised its ramifications.
Juan lifted her mouth in a dark smile. “She took out my entire squad, all right. But as to whether she was a spirit...”
Fong opened his mouth, but then was suddenly interrupted by Jin-su. “Of course she was a spirit! She reached inside me!” He whimpered. “I feel... violated.
Both Juan and Fong stared at him. Jin-su drew himself up. “Kinetically violated,” he added piteously.
For a moment, the Sergeant-Major was torn between groaning, incinerating the man’s throat, and merely rolling his eyes.
“Go... go lie down, Jin-su,” he ordered resignedly. But then his eyes gleamed in the shadows. “We’ll figure out how to deal with this... spirit.”
