TWENTY-EIGHT.

[banishment]

It's a little hard to believe that in a week I'll have been in this place for three months. At least it hasn't been boring, though I've learned that boring around here is sometimes a good thing. When things aren't boring, people inhale lust potions, grow and shrink, and sometimes turn into a possible future version of themselves. You'd think that those in charge would make a point to go out of their way to ensure that something like that didn't happen to the people they intend to use as soldiers, but even though they go through the trouble of bringing us here, we're apparently expendable. Maybe they get some sort of sick, twisted pleasure out of watching us go mad in this place or are hoping for these strange occurrences to do us all in. What a stupid waste of lives.

We were brought here to fight a war, weren't we? Funny, that's what I was doing back home. Only there, I was sitting back and waiting for the fighting to come to me. I went to it. Going this long without any sign of an outside conflict is starting to make this compound feel more like Ba Sing Se than I'd like to admit. Only difference is we know about the war and lack a silly figure head of a leader or a psychotic group of cultural enforcers hell-bent on re-educating whoever decides to think with a mind that's actually their own. Hey, who knows, they might start doing that here, too.

I guess you could say that I'm growing a little restless. I really hate this place. And at the moment, I hate it more than father Ozai.