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A/N: Yay! They're on the road again! This makes me happy. Thanks for the reviews. You guys have given me sufficient ammunition to continue on! If you guys read these Author Notes, I'd like to get suggestions from you guys on what you'd like to see happen in the story. I'm writing it for you, so you should have input, too, no?
WARNING: This is for other writers and people who may read my review page. Someone has been posting spoilers for Episodes 10-11. DO NOT READ ANY POSTS BY ANONYMOUS!!!!
Nyan Ranjau: Thanks for the review! As for the whole "Fire Nation Boy" thing, it's a force of habit. I don't mean to write it, but I also don't make an effort to edit it out. I'll try harder from now on. . ;;;
ON WITH THE FIC!!!!
Lee had seen much of the world in his seventeen years of life. He’d visited just about every major city during his exile, a feat not even the most seasoned warrior could boast. But this, riding on the back of a Flying Bison, soaring amongst the clouds in the chilly autumn air, occasionally passing through clouds that were surprisingly quite easy to penetrate, was a feat not without its exhilarating moments. No wonder the Avatar used this animal to get around. There was nothing quite like it. When he’d voiced this observation to Sokka, the other had just laughed a bit. “Yeah,” he’d said carelessly. “Appa’s pretty cool, isn’t he?”
They flew for hours at a time, occasionally landing on one of the Water Tribe boats to let the bison rest and help out for a while, so they didn’t feel as if they weren’t doing anything. Most of these instance only involved them staying on deck, doing more nothing than they had in the sky. Every time they set to the ground, Lee would wish they’d take to the air as soon as possible. They would go on like this for another day or so until at last they reached the famed Kyoshi Island.
“There it is!” Aang cried out as Lee watched the Unagi go underwater, having just partaken in a meal of the enormous koi indigenous to the area. He remembered this place well, and hoped that the people here didn’t remember him. Sokka, who’d taken the reigns, started lowering Appa onto one of the ships, much to Lee’s relief. He didn’t know what he would have done if forced to greet a village he’d helped to burn down. They all dropped off the back of Appa and waited patiently as the warships made port.
Already waiting at the docks was a group of Kyoshi Warriors, along with the town mayor. Lee brought his hood up and turned the scarred side of his face away from the dock. The Kyoshi Warriors, some at least, would recognize his face, being that he rode with some leaving the Fire Nation and had made peace with him, but the villagers on the island hadn’t. A heavy hand touched his shoulder. Turning, he saw that it was his uncle.
“I do think that for now, we should speak with the men below decks,” Iroh said, sensing the boy’s fear. Lee nodded, smiling uneasily. Iroh told Aang of where they would be before their party walked onto Kyoshi Island.
----
“We appreciate and honor your choice of having Kyoshi Island as the gathering point for the allied forces, but we certainly would have liked a notice a few weeks in advance, not a messenger hawk arriving a day before you do,” The elderly mayor of Kyoshi Island chided. Behind him, Hawky squawked, as if protesting. They were in the mayor’s home, inside his dining room. Aang, Sokka, Katara, the mayor, Hakoda, and Akiko were all situated inside the chamber,
“We’re sorry for our sudden arrival, but our time is short, and we have to act as a united whole as soon as possible,” Hakoda said to the mayor in a tone that was firm, yet oddly soothing at the same time. Sokka smirked a bit, amazed and proud that his father was able to do that. The man was known as a great negotiator to those outside of the Southern Tribe, and it was always a treat to see him work first-hand. Indeed, as he said this, the mayor scratched his head in thought and spoke in an apologetic tone.
“Well, if you put it that way, Kyoshi Island is open for you to use,” the man told Hakoda. The Water Tribe chief smiled openly and put an arm on the man’s shoulder.
“We thank you,” he said warmly. The mayor smiled shyly and was about to say something else, when someone interrupted with a throat-clearing noise.
“Excuse me,” Akiko, the person who’d made the noise said, “but as I’m aware, the Avatar and his companions need to be taking off soon. I’d assume they need some sort of provisions taken care of before flying off again. Gaoling may be a short way from here, but the roads are as unsafe as ever now. It may take a while before they arrive.”
“Of course,” the mayor said then, bowing. “You’ve been so helpful, Akiko. My people will gather provisions for you. Until then, feel free to explore the village. We’ve set up a shrine honoring the fallen warriors since your absence. It’s near Avatar Kyoshi’s statue.” Sokka’s head perked as he heard this, a new wave of grief. Kyoshi Island was near-xenophobic. The only warriors honored here would be natives to the island. He’d only trained a short time with them, but he’d gotten to know the Kyoshi warriors.
“I’d like to see that,” Sokka said lowly.
----
Akiko, Sokka, and Katara strolled gently across the grass-covered hills of the island and onto the road that led to the landmark statue of Avatar Kyoshi. Several villagers passed and waved happily as they passed. Sokka waved back, just as cheerfully, but found he couldn’t bring himself to smile as fully as he would have liked. It felt as if he was walking into the den of a saber-toothed moose lion.
At last the three made it to the imposing and awe-inspiring statue of Avatar Kyoshi. The statue’s eyes stared out regally from her strong face. Below her was a shrine, decorated with the head dress and fans of the Kyoshi Warriors. Set up on a box were a set of paintings. Sokka surveyed them slowly, a stab of pain as he recognized each girl. Aoi, Ryoko, Tomoyo, Aya, Kana, and Suki’s likenesses, all lined neatly up in a row. Below them was an epitaph:
“Six souls have passed on
Like flowers plucked in the spring
Their lives remembered.”
Sokka recognized it as poetry, the style popular with the high class of Ba Sing Se. He found the words fitting to the girls. He walked toward the shrine steadily, and as he neared it, kneeled down. Tears began to flow from his eyes as he reached into the pocket of his parka. After a moment’s fumbling, he pulled out the yellow fan he had gotten when he’d trained with them, only now, the fan was now modified with the decoration of several different kinds of Water Tribe ornaments. He placed the fan on the shrine, lifting his head up to look at the portraits again and rested his gaze on Suki’s. He touched the portrait for a moment before standing up. He turned around to look at Katara and Akiko sullenly.
“I’m going back to the ships. I’m going to wait with Lee and Iroh,” he told his sister. Katara nodded and moved out of the way for her brother. Sokka walked on, lost in thought.
----
“It was on the four-hundredth day of the siege that many of my men began to turn weary,” Iroh said to the attentive group of Water Tribe Warriors gathered in the galley. “But something different happened on that day. I was seriously considering giving up the siege, when one of our tanks managed to blast a large chunk of the Outer Wall off. While some of you might think that this is a small thing, it most certainly was not. The walls of Ba Sing Se are hundreds of feet high, and as strong as solid steel. That one small crack in their defenses gave us hope to continue on.” Lee sighed to himself and stood up. Iroh turned around and looked at his nephew. “Where are you going, Lee?” he asked. “I was just getting to the good part.”
“I’ve heard this story before, Uncle,” Lee reminded him. “I’m going on deck for a while. I’ll be back.”
“Ok, Lee, but hurry back,” Iroh told the boy before turning back to the others. Lee smiled a bit as Iroh began to speak again. The old codger really did know how to draw a crowd. Lee walked up the wooden steps of the Water Tribe longboat and onto the deck. Appa was lying in the middle of the boat on his beck, snoring contentedly. Lee smiled and moved to the curled-up bison. He sat down and leaned against it sleepily. He shifted himself against the shaggy fur until at last he was situated in a comfortable position.
He closed his eyes and let fatigue start to take him, but not before he heard the clunking of boots coming near him. Peeking one eye open, he saw that it was Sokka. The Water Tribe native didn’t look too happy. He frowned a bit as Sokka slumped to the floor and slowly sidled up next to Lee. The two weren’t touching, but they were close enough for the scarred boy to notice it. He said nothing, though, not wanting to cause the boy to have even more of a bad mood. Instead, he curled up a bit more into the bison’s fur, letting the warm envelope him.
“Lee,” the boy’s familiar voice said. Immediately he detected grief in the other’s voice.
“Yes, Sokka?” He asked hazily.
“Promise me that you won’t die in this war,” he said softly. “I don’t think I could lose another friend.” Lee’s eyes opened as he heard the request, and an odd warm feeling filled him. Only one other person had ever requested a promise like that from him, and that was his uncle. It spoke volumes to him, and of how much their friendship had grown in the time they’d met each other.
“I promise,” Lee told the boy lowly. Sokka mumbled in content, and eventually, the two lulled into sleep.