Chapter 10: Rational Thinking: Discarded

He speaks in such low tones that were he an inch further away, I would hardly have caught a word that came out of his mouth. As it is, a louder volume would have been out of place and I would have thought he wouldn't lower his voice at all, if that were his only objective. After all, he seems intent on making this as weird as possible, while I try to figure out whether I should finally let this bother me or not.

It could be his way of determining the level of weirdness that I will accept from him before I run away. Or something. But maybe it goes further than that. I'm just not sure that I want to find out where exactly.

"Where is the end?", right. It's that kind of simple, is it?

Um… The end is only the ending of something. So long as whatever was ceases to exist, that is. Otherwise, 'end' is another word for 'change'. In which case, we move into the territory of infinite possibility. Which is to say, no end. Ever. (I certainly hope if it is so, I will forget all about it.)

"Anything is possible. That's what possibility is. The question should be whether it is likely enough, probable enough to be relevant", now, that we have been in this position for almost five minutes it almost feels normal and I imagine I might feel the lack of pressure against my nose once he moves away. I'm not sure I like the thought. (When I have thoughts I don't like I usually see how quickly I might be able to see the bottom of a bottle.)

"What is relevance?", is he bouncing thoughts off of me for a paper?

"It's… Well, I figure that mostly my thoughts should be of use to me, when I do have them. To me, my thoughts aren't being thought for their own sake. And, most of the time, I manage just fine. But when it comes to thoughts about something bordering on absolute abstraction, concepts that I can't grasp without even miniscule understanding of them, my only way to understanding is through relevance to myself. As in, I need a point of reference, which is me. Therefore, relevance is what I can reasonably connect to myself and harness into usage."

Abruptly, Bumi removes his nose from mine. He cackles. "They'll visit you on your own! Ha!"

I don't see how that's as funny as he thinks it is, but then I'll still have the problem of not being able to see them, won't I? "Will they make themselves known to me? Will I be able to speak with them? Will they answer?"

His only answer is to propel himself from the ground with some bending and leave me sitting there, by the miniature model of Omashu and its tunnel system.

And, dear Whatever being put me here, do I feel like I've been let down.

I take a deep breath, fill the entirety of my lungs and sigh.

It's only a disappointment if I don't take something from this.

So, in short, it's not within my own power to communicate with Spirits of this world, or their world, which might be somehow connected to my own, be it because someone grasped an idea and made it into a cartoon show that I now undoubtedly ruined. Possibility. Well, I won't regret the changes I made. I do regret…

Hahn. Yue. Even Hiraku.

I can blame myself for them. And I do, in some parts. But it just isn't practical to wonder about 'what if's. And why should I? As far as I know, which in its entirety isn't all that much, time travel isn't a thing I can achieve on my own. And whatever can time travel or send other things or people or spirits through time, I probably won't meet. I won't discard the possibility, but really, thinking about it, even if it is possible, I don't think I would stand more of this… loneliness.

I am alone in this world, so long as I don't meet anyone who shares my experience.

That's what life's about: the sharing of experiences.

And I have no one to share mine with because no one could ever understand.

Understanding and feeling understood is an integral part of sharing. It's why I will always feel set apart from the other humans in this world. Because in a substantial way, I am separate. By choice or not, I am not one of them. I never will be.

I'm certain Katara senses some of this, and refuses to attach herself to someone who might as well drift away, if it meant answers. I am not a secure entity and what she seeks is, in essence, safety. She has it in her brother, in Aang and she will have the same in Toph. They will be bound together, so long as they allow it.

Bonds are something precious.

Yes, they can restrict, restrain, chain, cage, but in reality, we need them. They ground us, but there is nothing keeping me on the ground.

It's why I am capable of what I am capable of. It's what Katara wanted me to teach her, but it's nothing that can be taught. You're either entirely free, unbound and lonely, or you're not. And when you're not, you are free to explore other avenues. I did that, in my first life.

I loved and was loved. I hurt and was hurt in turn. I mended and was mended.

This is perhaps why I bend as well as I do. Water is not restricted by anything. Certainly, there are obstacles, but with enough time they are ground into nothing and carried along. Which is why time is so important as a constant. If it were fluid, as water is, nothing would (be) matter (to us).

Are Spirits matter? They can certainly choose to be, as they have done in the case of Tui and La, Moon and Ocean. Cause and Effect. Matters of Fact.

My facts are that I was killed either by accident or not in my old world that had a cartoon series Avatar the Last Airbender that I watched and knew well enough to remember it when I was born into this new world which has something called a Spirit World that at least one person can communicate with. And, if Bumi is to be believed, Spirits will sometimes visit this plane and have not-conversations with him that they don't enjoy. But, if only he can see them, and he says that they will visit me of their own accord, he must believe that I am capable of seeing them, too. It appears to be a skill.

Whether it is learned or not, I have no idea.

So, until either I find another spiritual dwelling, a Spirit comes by for a visit, or Aang is free to learn about the Spirit World and I can ask him for help, I will have to wait.

I dislike it that this isn't up to me. That it's not within my power. But, as of now, I have no way of changing that.

I could see about getting into that big library Aang and his friends will either destroy or not destroy in a few months. But, and I would try to be humble here, but it would be a futile effort, or too much of one to bother with, I don't think anyone would have put any useful thoughts on this to paper.

And, if they did, there is no guarantee that I would find it. There is no guarantee that I would be able to read it.

So, and I wonder how many possibilities I am killing from here on out, I won't visit that desert library.

But putting thoughts to paper… it's a compelling idea.

To document. I do wonder, however, how much of this desire is conditioned into me through my own society. Social media was… instant, and seemingly real. Non-virtual because the people who were using it were non-virtual. We were real and always there.

But I remember the freedom that came with switching off my phone.

I remember the power I suddenly had over my own desires. I wasn't influenced constantly by what might as well have been some unfeeling machine equipped with just the right phrases for responses. I was no longer constantly monitored, analysed and offered products that I might like to buy.

The desire to put down my experiences, hold them fast on something less flimsy than a stream of memory that only I can access. (Hopefully, they are mine. I've become a little possessive.)

But there is danger in it, too. Anyone could take this seeming security in writing down my thoughts from me. Stolen or destroyed, I would lose this…

Is it a risk I want to take?

Perhaps, when I have more time. When there aren't invasions going on all over the place, when the war is over.

It's a good thing that Team Avatar has already left. If I'm quick enough, I can catch up with the others in no time. I decide that I'll have to see if I can't find the wellspring of hot water beneath the city on my own, since even with the model right in front of me, I don't trust my memory enough to keep these details, these twists and turns accurately.

I might get lost in thought, and then in a maze.

So, I stretch my senses. Earth is only a block to me, unfortunately lifeless to me. Certainly, I know of its slow, slow movements, its power, but I cannot connect with it. Water, however, is always eager to communicate with a waterbender. It welcomes, beckons and I am barely aware of how I get to my feet and follow its call.

So far, I have managed not to think about it, but all this time spent underground, without sunlight, without fresh air that carries the smell of sea with it, has made me desperate for water, be it open or not.

I've not been journeying through the tunnels for very long when I begin to catch up to some of the stragglers who are dragging an unconscious Prison Warden with them. Well, we can't very well leave him behind in a place where he could find a way to allow the Fire Nation entry into the tunnels. They aren't being closed off as of yet, in case of an escape.

Cautiously, I pull my mask back over my face. He could only be pretending. But they are lagging behind with the weight of him. Why they don't have a bender with them, I have no idea. And, they are all injured. Miniscule, but enough for them to be more of a burden than a help, except for tasks such as this one. Even though I should reserve my strength, after the day I've had, I decide to freeze the places of his body where he comes in contact with the ground. "There you go", I say, as they stumble with the sudden lack of drag.

"Thanks", one says, and his high-pitched voice makes me do a double-take. A woman, barely recognisable under that uniform. Pretty, too.

If we weren't about to invade a city, I'd suggest a bath in the hot springs.

I wonder whether I should bother with erasing the signs of our passing, but it would probably take too long. I would have to be thorough, and I don't have the energy for that, I think.

What I could do is bolster the entire floor with ice and make it a slippery slope, ever deeper underground. Or a slide! Oh, there is fun to be had here, and I intend to have it. The part of me that always cautions is thankfully silent, just this once.

With a mad grin, I form a sledge for the Warden and the one with the limp, shove them on it, and make skates for everyone else.

"What in-", they all begin to shout and curse, grabbing each other's arms for support, and it's all terribly amusing.

"Get ready, this will be fun!", I shout and concentrate on coating the ground beneath and ahead of us evenly with ice.

And, off we are.

There is much terrified screaming, but soon enough, once they all realise that I'm fairly good at what I do, they clench their jaws and hold on tightly to each other. Really, they're quite graceless, but I suppose I shouldn't expect much from Earthkingdom soldiers in that department.

Even at the speeds we are going, it takes longer to find any signs of someone else's passing, and it doesn't appear to be resistance fighters. Not when the specialised wires running through the caves are the kind that easily transfer heat. And by 'easily' I mean to say, if even the tiniest spark travels along it, it will ignite like an irritated firebending hornet's nest and burn everything in reach. It's not an explosion, but certainly enough to roast anyone in the tunnels until they're far beyond medium-rare.

The Fire Nation has already discovered our trump card and they're prepared to use it against us to deal a devastating blow. I suspect that the only reason they haven't yet, because they must know that we might take this gamble, is because of the hostages. As soon as they know them to be relatively safe, they will kill anyone in the tunnel system.

Instead of taking chances and letting them think they still have the upper hand, I do the sensible thing and cut the wire to begin rolling it up and carry it with me as we follow it's path. One of the injured fighters rolls it up as I slow our pace and guide us, since I've still got the brat to carry.

It turns out, the wire is set to be ignited from within the palace through a slightly less potent wire. Probably so that they don't set the palace on fire. There is now the question of whether to leave the warden with the injured guards or to smuggle them all inside, however I might accomplish that.

But, when I think about it logically, here, or the palace, it hardly matters where we leave him, he will be found eventually.

So, we tie him up properly, cut the wire again and wind some of it around his neck. If they do trigger it, he'll be the first to know. We leave him behind. I don't think they could hold any trained Fire Nation soldiers off for very long, so it would be pointless to have them stand guard.

And, I wouldn't wish guard duty on my worst enemy.

Guards always seem to be the butt of every joke, the first to be made to look incompetent, and in some cases, the first to die. They are, if anything, to be pitied.

(I used to think that if you had anything worth guarding, you either carry it around with you, or get rid of it as quickly as you can. But that doesn't work with humans, so it's not much of a surprise when people hire bodyguards and the like. Only, those are to be pitied and anyone I pity should look for another job. Additionally, as a teenager I used to do a lot of dirty work. Not just the dishwashing kind.)

We infiltrate the palace quickly and quietly and bring ourselves into a position that allows us to lie in wait for when the rest of the rebel forces arrive to take over the palace and drive out the Fire Nation from the centre.

After a fashion, lying in wait is a situation in which you can mostly gauge the personalities of those lying in wait with you.

I'm more of a relaxed waiter. Why bother with all the tension until it's necessary? But you do have to watch out not to drift off, which is surprisingly easy for a body used to naptimes and that sort of thing.

So, when there's not a need for complete silence, I usually make conversation.

Not this day. There is a need for complete silence.

Thankfully, I don't have to sit idly by. I heal the other's injuries. Better if they're fully movable during any assaults.

I'm grateful the kid seems to be passed out, still. I would not want to have to explain to him the concept of hiding from his comrades or the consequent consequences.

We all know death. We've all seen it, in some form. A pet or a car-accident. An animal's mangled body on the road even as you try to steer clear of it, the inevitable bump when the car crushes it even more beneath a wheel.

I have killed wilfully and in full awareness of the consequences.

However, I don't think I've ever enjoyed it or been needlessly cruel. (So long as the feeling of violation of your own body, being afraid of spit in your mouth or throat because of me isn't counted.)

We… are forced to watch the mentally twelve-year-old princess burning some of her servants whom she doesn't recognise and so thinks of as traitors because of one slight misstep in protocol. It happens so quickly that all I can do is hold the female soldier's mouth shut as she lurches to dive into the flames that must be hot on an almost volcanic level to burn them as quickly as they do. Cold sweat spreads on my neck. If she can do that…

I don't think she intended to kill when she and I fought. She, most likely, wanted to take us as prisoners. Logical, really. Whoever is with the Avatar most likely has connections to the rebel forces and can supply the Fire Nation with locations and weaknesses. Capture at their hands was never an option, but seeing this, I don't think they'd be above torturing someone as young as Katara.

And, oh Spirits, Azula's face afterwards as she looks at her fists in astonishment, it's…

She doesn't know her power.

She hadn't intended to kill them. She killed two people by accident. Her knees tremble visibly. Voices echo along the corridor.

Azula, princess that she is, forces her legs still and draws herself up to her full height. But… I don't think she should see the horrified faces of those coming. I don't think she should know that kind of primal fear of her as a monster just yet. She could… she could irrevocably turn to the life of an incurable sociopath. And, suddenly, all she is is a girl who killed someone by accident.

Most adults can't deal with that.

What do I do?

I have to do something. It's not something you leave be when you know you're the only one who could even remotely be something she needs.

It might be close to playing god.

This is likely me getting in way over my head.

I refuse to sit back and watch.

"Hide", I tell my companions, and I leave our hiding place, unseen by Azula, even as she attempts to find the source of noise. A door slides open, and with a desperate lunge, I grasp her wrist and yank her out of the room through another door that is still ajar.

She lets me. She takes one look at me, at my grip on her, and allows me to bodily drag her through a maze of rooms, until we get to a window.

Shouts from pursuers aren't far behind, and even as I shove it open, Azula seems perfectly content with my sudden plans of escape. I decide to contemplate this at a later date when I don't have a baby waking up in my arms, no doubt hungry, an angry horde of Fire Nation people hot on my heels, and a mentally ten-year-old unstable princess with her first kill ever on her lily-white hands.

I really am fucking up the plot.

But, looking at her for another second, before I climb outside and offer her a helping hand from the roof, I don't regret a thing. She's a girl. Even if I don't manage to fix her, she is in a unique position of power, not just because of her birth. She's a formidable firebender, slightly insane, and hopefully not beyond saving.

She has the capacity for compassion.

(I have to believe that.)

We take the chutes. I knew I'd get to play with them at some point, but I hadn't expected to get a nice view of the explosions and fights occurring all over the city.

I, with the princess of the Fire Nation herself and the son of the governor feel like this is far less real than anything I've done so far. I can barely believe I'm doing this.

I planned none of this.

I will fuck it all up.

The question is, in a good way?

And there, there I see Bumi putting down some firebenders, O-Ting at his side.

Our ride progresses smoothly. So smoothly, in fact, that the explosion a few measly metres in front of us should be expected.

Both Azula and I escape the debris by vaulting over the side of our 'cart' onto another set of roofs. Where firebenders await us. But, recognising their princess, they hesitate. That's all I need to knock them out with a sharp yank of their saliva to the backs of their throats where the impact is hard enough to make them fall unconscious.

There are perhaps four or five more of these encounters before we reach the city gates.

Where we meet the resistance leader.

This time, it's my presence that stalls them, and I'm forced to quickly find an explanation. "Some of the others are holding out in the palace, practically holding her friends hostage, the princess has agreed to come with me."

It's so much bullshit in one sentence, I don't blame him for looking like he wants to strangle me along with her. "And where-", he cuts himself off, and a glance towards Azula's suddenly burning hands tells me why.

She's staring at me with murder in her eyes. "Spirits, princess, work with me here", I hiss, and she realises what I'm doing. She and I, both rather insane and looking like it, turn towards the resistance leader as one. "We're going on a little fieldtrip. Good luck!"

And we just�� move past him through the blasted-open gate.

His face! His face!

[I realise it's short, and I'm not quite sure what I'm doing any more, so please tell me if you think I'm on the right track!

This isn't meant to pick and choose your ideas or prompts or anything, Kenrovan was helpful in pointing this out to me. So, apologies, I just want to know if this is a direction of the story that makes sense, somehow. Now, enough of my whining.]