Chapter Text
Kiyoi, hands bound tightly behind her back, was marched forward between four guards, Ty Lee and Mai at the front of the pack, their footsteps a relentless rhythm toward the palace. The numbness in her right arm, courtesy of Ty Lee's precise strike, was beginning to recede, a faint prickling sensation returning. She focused on it, willing the sensation back, as she scanned their surroundings. The sun, finally peaking out, shone brightly, though the moon still obscured most of its fiery disk. She hoped the others had managed to defeat Ozai in time. The eclipse was over.
They moved through the streets around the Western Gate, away from the battle still raging at the Eastern Gate. Kiyoi observed the signage and designs of the surrounding buildings; they were in the civil services district, nearing the palace's outer court. The countless lessons with her father and mother, the 'boring' civics classes, the excursions to observe building projects, the understanding of town planning – it was all ingrained in her, and now it ignited a spark of defiant hope. This was it. She had to make her move soon.
She lifted her bowed head and scanned the cobbled path ahead, searching for a subtle dip leading to a metal grate. It was a barely noticeable feature, common around the palace, camouflaged by years of grime and pedestrian traffic. She desperately needed to find one of the many access points to the labyrinthine underground aqueducts, fed by the secret river. This vast network of lava tubes, repurposed for the city's water supply, ran underneath their feet all the way from the crater of Caldera to the ocean. It was a detail Aang had excitedly described after a day at that Fire Nation school. A strange thought crossed her mind: it was good to know the education system taught something useful.
Her hands flexed behind her. Feeling returned to her right arm. Subtly, she began to sway and pull her hands inward, drawing sweat from her body down her arms. She flicked her wrists behind her, movements quick and stifled, concentrating the droplets into a sliver of water. With meticulous precision, she used the water to slice at the stiff leather straps binding her. Slowly, she repeated the motion as discreetly as she could. The fibres began to weaken, unnoticed by her captors.
'Almost there,' Ty Lee chirped, her boundless energy undimmed by the stoic Mai at her side or the guards surrounding them.
As the palace loomed, its ornate gates growing larger with every step, an ominous hum droned around them, growing louder with every second. Their party halted, looking up at the dark splotches against the orange sky. Many war balloons loomed, casting monstrous shadows across the courtyard. A guard nudged her with his spear, prompting her to continue forward; they had reached the outer court's gate. She swallowed as she was marched through it into the palace grounds, eerily quiet, abandoned by guards and courtiers as Aang had predicted. Panic threatened to grip her; they were nearly at the point of no return. But then, as if Agni or Tui smiled upon her, she saw it directly ahead, embedded in the stone-paved courtyard: a round metal cover, decorated with unappreciated, mundane motifs. In that moment, it was the most beautiful manhole cover she had ever seen. She took controlled breaths and focused, tensing her muscles, readying herself to strike.
As they stepped onto the grate, Kiyoi abruptly swung her arms apart, the weakened straps of leather giving way. She rooted her stance, snapping her arms up swiftly and purposefully, pulling at the water below her with all her might. Her captors didn't even have time to blink. A deafening roar erupted as a geyser, thick and powerful, burst from beneath the grate, shattering the stone pavers around it and sending the metal cover flying into the air. The force of the torrent threw the four guards around her across the courtyard. Mai and Ty Lee turned in time to see Kiyoi escape them, slipping into the dark world below.
She pulled the water around her in an embrace, slowing her fall through the cold, enclosed stone shaft into a deep pool at the bottom. She surfaced in a cavernous atrium, a crossroads of narrow, water-logged lava tubes. She treaded water, her head swivelling almost frantically. There were so many tunnels. Which one led to the harbour? How could she hold her breath long enough to find somewhere to surface?
Twin splashes echoed around her as Ty Lee and Mai immediately followed, their silhouettes barely visible against the faint light filtering from the access shaft above.
'That was not fair!' Ty Lee's voice called out.
Kiyoi twisted, pushing a wave toward the girls, trapping them against the far wall. The girls grunted. Think, Kiyoi, she urged herself. You're at the Western Gate, the ocean is in the east, which would be to your right… but which way did I land facing? She heard the harsh tink of a throwing knife striking stone beside her head. The wave holding the girls faulted, and Ty Lee stood, finding a shallow shelf of stone to stand on. Kiyoi raised a hand to bend a water whip. Another knife whirled past, slicing her sleeve. Which way could she go? She swam, letting the water carry her to the edge near a lava tube entrance, its current pulling at her as she clung to the wall. A third knife flew at her, halting her. A sharp shick echoed in her ear, followed by a searing graze along the side of her head. A lock of her hair floated past her in the murky water. That could have easily killed her if it had been a centimetre to the right.
'Don't do it, Kiyoi. You don't know if that tunnel's completely submerged,' Mai told her, climbing onto the same shallow shelf Ty Lee had found across the flooded cavern. 'You'll drown before you find your way out in this darkness.'
'Yeah, don't die! Please just come back. It's pointless! You've lost anyway, your friends would have surrendered, you can be with them.' Ty Lee attempted to persuade her with the worst sales pitch she had ever heard.
Kiyoi felt the current of rushing water tug at her. The dark, uncertain tunnel promised escape if only she could find her way through it before she ran out of air.
'It's suicide,' Mai called out, as if able to see her darting, calculating gaze in the darkness. ‘Don’t make me tell Zuko what happened to you.’
The words stuck her with a pain she didn’t have time to process. The water current tugged at her. She looked at her pleading captors across the room, a certain fate of suffering as a traitor in Azula's cruel hands. Then, she looked at the rushing, dark water, beckoning an uncertain fate.
If only she knew her way to the ocean, it might be her salvation. What she would give to have Toph's sense now. The longer she looked and held onto the wall, the more accustomed to the force tugging at her she got. The flow of water against her, making its way unhindered, unresisting. Toph felt her way through her life by being connected to the earth, and now Kiyoi was surrounded and embraced by her element but unable to navigate it, make it show her the way. Of all things to remember at a time like this, she remembered her first waterbending lesson.
Aang demonstrated the technique again, his movements fluid and graceful, the water responding to him like a friend. 'Yielding means you direct it, but let it do most of the work. Water naturally flows one way or the other. With water, the more precise you want to be and the more controlled you are, the less responsive it is.' He gestured towards the waves. 'Think of it like… like a dance. You lead, but you don’t force. You follow the rhythm, the natural flow of the water.'
The water knew its way without eyes.
Kiyoi let out a breath, and let go of the wall. She closed her eyes, and extended her senses to the currents around her, the whisper of its flow. She took a deep inhale, and yielded to it.
'NO!' Mai and Ty Lee screamed.
She let her body become one with the current, a leaf in the subterranean river. She felt the drag of the main channel, the subtle eddies that marked branching tunnels, the faint shifts in pressure indicating narrower passages. It wasn’t sight like Toph was granted from her element, but it was direction, a guide to her escape through the maze of craggy, water-logged lava tubes, carved centuries ago. She drew the water from around her head, creating an air pocket to preserve her, but she still held her breath for as long as she could. The tunnels seemed endless, time stretched as each breath was savoured. She bent herself through tight, jagged openings, the water aiding her passage, pushing her through impossible gaps.
The ocean pulled, calling her as her air bubble grew stale, her head feeling light. But the thought of her friends and the subs waiting, of the possibility that Mai and Ty Lee were wrong, spurred her onward. She pushed through the last, tight squeeze into open water. Her eyes opened and she squinted at the dappled light from the surface, lungs burning, she twisted in the water, shooting herself upward.
Her head broke the surface, and she gasped for air, the brackish water stinging her eyes. She was in the harbour. Relief washed over her, fleeting and fragile. Then, her eyes widened in horror.
Above her, the sky was ablaze, not with the natural light of the returning sun, but with the inferno of crashing, burning debris. Black smoke billowed from the water, the remains of the invasion's submarines broken and sinking, shrapnel and flames scattering across the water's surface. The aerial attack she had heard in the distance had found its mark. Her heart sank. The invasion had failed completely. Her friends…
Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but Kiyoi forced it down. She had to assume the worst, but act with purpose. She jetted herself along towards the shore, getting closer but staying submerged, observing the chaotic scene at the harbour. Fire Nation soldiers swarmed the docks, subduing the remaining invasion force and taking prisoners. She watched from the cover of a flaming piece of submarine wreckage, as the heat curls the ends of her hair. The Foggy Swampbenders were being clapped in iron manacles. From afar, she watched Earth Kingdom soldiers being loaded into metal boxes on winches and lifted into the war balloons. But she saw no bison being tied down, nor any particularly young prisoners. A seed of hope dared to take root. Perhaps they had escaped. Or perhaps they had been taken captive in their fight against Ozai away from the harbour.
Either way, she’d be no help to anyone if she was caught too. She had to disappear, and fast. Her borrowed Water Tribe shirt would be a dead giveaway. Not keen on the idea of returning to the tunnel to fight her way up into the city against the current, she submerged once more. She bent her way through the harbour, heading out of the landing cove of Port Azulon, passing startled fish and surprised sea creatures. She swam around the headland towards the what she remembered from studying maps with Sokka constantly were the original docks. A shallower port up the inlet accommodate smaller fishing boats and ferries serving the civilian docks and township below the Imperial City’s crater.
Slipping silently through the water, under piers and between fishing boats, she spied the dockside stilt houses, a washing line strung between two of them. She flung a water whip up, snatching a red robe and pulling it into the water. Under a pier, she quickly shed her blue Water Tribe shirt and stuffing it in the folds of the stolen red robe–plain, unremarkable. She glanced around and listened carefully for footsteps above her, then hauled herself out of the water onto a rickety jetty. In a well practiced movement, she coaxed the water from her hair and clothing, sending it silently back to the ocean.
Then, she picked up a discarded bucket of bait, trying to look as though she belonged there as people slowly emerged from their houses. A victory bell rang in the distance. The threat was over, for the Fire Nation. For her, it had only just begun.
She needed a plan, a way out of Caldera and this bustling dock town before the Fire Nation’s jubilation turned into renewed vigilance, before the patrols tightened and her disguised appearance failed to protect her. Her mind raced, sifting through the limited options. She was trapped—the harbour’s flaming gates raised, the Imperial City a fortress above, and now the dockside town would soon be swarming with patrols and soldiers. Her mind raced, sifting through memories of maps and conversations. Land routes would be locked down tightly; the sea was her only viable option, but every ship would be scrutinised. Where could she even go? If her friends had escaped, where would they go?
A mournful, low whine reached her ears, a sound that cut through the background chatter of the docks. Her head snapped towards it, her heart giving an involuntary lurch. It was a distinctive sound from her childhood: an eel-hound, but this one was in distress. A lump formed in her throat. Her mother had loved them. The magnificent, amphibious creatures, sleek and powerful, were rare, even in the wild, almost unheard of as domesticated companions. Only noble families could afford them, and Miyuna had been one of the few to keep, breed, and race them. Her favourite, Pebo, had been a steadfast companion for hunting and hound-back archery. To hear such a sound, here, now, stirred her, distracting her momentarily.
Kiyoi followed the sound, weaving between piles of fishing nets and crates. On the jetty beside a ship, a large, dark-scaled eel-hound lay hunched in a sturdy wooden cage, its mournful eyes fixed on Kiyoi. Its powerful legs, built for speed, were cramped within the bars. Its skin, which should be slick and glossy, was dull and dusty. They hadn’t let it swim. The poor thing would be dehydrated. It was clearly a magnificent specimen, likely destined for sale to some wealthy, status-obsessed client. But the sight of this noble creature she knew to be social, loyal, and so fond of running and swimming, caged like that, filled her with sadness.
The sadness quickened to outrage as her gaze snagged on a familiar, disreputable-looking ship docked on the same jetty, its sails patched, its hull scarred. And there, perched on a man’s shoulder on the deck, was a distinct green parrot-lizard. Pirates. Not just any pirates, but the pirates.
The audacity, the sheer nerve of them, to be here, in the Fire Nation capital, attempting to fence an eel-hound and keeping it in such abysmal conditions. Her plan to simply escape pivoted, replaced by a spark of unadulterated spite.
An eel-hound could swim fast, run even faster, and would be discrete blending into the rugged coastlines. And Kiyoi wanted nothing more in that moment, than to free the poor thing. But she counted the crew on deck and felt the ache of bruised forming from Ty Lee’s jabs, the sting of cuts from close calls, the tremor of her muscles from the most water bending she had ever done in her life. She was exhausted, and weaponless. And right now, in the heart of the Fire Nation after a failed invasion, she couldn’t afford a fight unless she was certain she could win. Taking the hound by force was not an option. Stealth was impossible; it was bright daylight, completely open, and everyone on the dock was on the lookout for suspicious behaviour. But still, she had to steal it.
Stealing from the pirates was a risk, a monumental one, especially given the pirates, and she had history, but the alternative was waiting to be discovered. But perhaps she could use her shared history to her advantage. A plan began to form, a daring, reckless knot of ideas. They had tried to kill Zuko, and they had destroyed her home of two years. She had liked that ship, as old, musty and small as it was. And now this… Well, she couldn’t pass up the chance to even the score with these scoundrels and solve the issue of her transport.
She approached cautiously, holding out the bucket of bait. The eel-hound lifted its head, its nostrils flaring, a low rumble in its chest. 'Hello there,' she murmured, her voice soft, offering a handful of the glistening fish. The eel-hound nudged her palm gently, taking the offering, its large eyes staring at her pleadingly. Kiyoi stroked its snout through the bars, feeling the coarse scales under her fingers. Its skin was almost to the point of crackling. Clearly, they weren’t taking good care of it. Was in underhanded to steal? Of course. But did they deserve it? Absolutely. And Aang would approve. Though his approval wasn’t necessary, she had begun to automatically consider his perspective out of habit.
Kiyoi’s attention was still on the eel-hound when a gruff voice cut through the dockside din. ‘Well, lookie here. What’s an urchin like you doing pokin’ around our merchandise?’
She turned, facing the pirate captain himself, a his feather wide brim hat shadowing his weathered face. He was flanked by two burly crewmen. He eyed the bucket in her hand as the parrot-lizard landed on his shoulder with a squawk.
‘Don’t go thinkin’ you can afford him, girl. That’s a noble beast, that is.’ The short crewman with various knife hilts poking out of his waistband sneered.
Kiyoi lowered the bait bucket, placing it near the bars of the cage. The eel-hound, seeing the offering, eagerly stuck its snout through the bars and began to lap up the glistening fish. 'It’s a her,' Kiyoi corrected, her voice even. 'And she's sick, isn't she? Her skin is dry, and she's clearly dehydrated.'
The captain scoffed. 'Sick? Nah, she’s fine. Just needs to get used to her new life. We rescued her, see? From abandonment, after her noble lady owner kicked the bucket. Planning to sell her for a handsome price.'
There was a frantic whine and a sharp clang that drew their attention. The eel-hound, in its eagerness, had somehow managed to get its head stuck deep inside the bait bucket. It tried to pull back, but the bucket, now lodged awkwardly around its snout, was too wide to retreat between the cage bars. A burst of rough laughter from the pirates echoed across the jetty at the creature’s plight.
Kiyoi let a small scowl settle on her face at their cruelty. She stepped forward, her movements deliberate. 'Here, let me,' she murmured, her voice calm. She folded down the handle of the bucket, easing it away from the eel-hound's ears, and gently slipped it off. The hound blinked, shaking it’s head, able to move freely again, and focused its eyes on her as, looking at her as if she had put the sun back in the sky.
The hound’s tails thwacked wildly against the cage, wiggling her whole body in excitement. She knew that if this eel-hound had truly belonged to a noble lady, it was definitely domesticated, perhaps even descending from one of her mother’s hound’s lineages. It probably would have been trained the same way as most hound too. Testing her theory, she gave a low click of her tongue and held out her hand in a 'wait' motion. The eel-hound responded instantly, laying down in an anticipatory pose, almost as still as a statue, save her tail thumping against the cage floor.
Holding the now empty bucket in her hand, Kiyoi tracked the incriminating trail of blood dripping from a cut on her arm, courtesy of one of Mai’s knives. Discretely, she wipe the blood with her sleeve, the red fading into the fabric, hiding the wound. She let an air of confidence settle on her, banishing any lingering fear and exhaustion from her character. Then, she turned back to the pirates, her eyes sharped, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 'You really don't remember me, Captain?'
The captain frowned, scratching his chin. 'Why should I remember some urchin?'
Kiyoi's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. 'Because you owe this "urchin," or more accurately, the Crown, 855,000 Ban for the destruction of my dear friend's vessel. I suppose you've heard he’s back in the palace now. I think he’ll be interested to know the men who made an attempt on his life are in town… free, unarrested.'
The captain’s face blanched. His eyes widened in dawning recognition. 'You’re… you’re that ship clerk!'
'Hmm, yes, I was,' Kiyoi said, adopting the crisp, authoritative tone of a naval officer seamlessly. 'And now I work for the Port Authority, and you gentlemen have failed my undercover inspection abysmally.'
The captain’s jaw went slack. The two pirates beside him exchanged nervous glances, their bravado evaporating faster than water on hot coals. 'Port Authority?' the captain squeaked, his voice suddenly reedy. 'Blast it all! But… but we didn't know!’
'Of course you didn't,' Kiyoi cut him off with a satisfying smile, 'That's the point of an undercover inspection.’
The shorter of the pirates moved to draw one of his knives.
‘I wouldn’t if I were you. The Harbour Master is aware which berth I’m monitoring today and I check in; regularly. With the Gates of Azulon closed, you can’t abscond from this harbour… and If I were you, I would not like to add assault of a naval officer to your already extensive list of offences, like animal cruelty, piracy, fraud, larceny, destruction of Admiralty property… high treason,’ she peered at the hull of the ship and shook her head with a tsk, ‘and that are you aware that those barnacles are considered a danger to our Harbour’s biodiversity? An infestation like that incurs a hefty fine… all this, and I have not even set foot on your vessel yet.’
The captain swallowed. 'Honest, miss! We was just doing a little, uh, side business!'
'Ignorance of the law is no excuse, Captain,' Kiyoi stated, her voice cool and unwavering. She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice conspiratorially, though still loud enough for the two crewmen to hear. 'Do you have any idea how much scrutiny this harbour is under right now?’ Kiyoi allowed a beat of silence to hang in the air before continuing. ‘After the events of today, I find you here, disrespecting the laws of this harbour, keeping a rare creature in deplorable conditions after dubiously acquiring it, and openly selling artefacts from nations hostile to the Fire Nation. And that's not even considering your track record with the Navy and Royal Family. Are you… rebels, perhaps? Enemies of the Fire Nation?' She suggested with a dangerous lilt to her voice, letting the weight of her implied threat settle.
The captain started sweating. 'Bleedin’ hog-monkeys, no, Miss! We're just honest traders who have made a bad deal. We got no problem with the Fire Nation. Love it… Love Ozai, our dear leader, may his reign be long! The Hound was like that when we got it… and um, the artefacts… just trinkets, curios! We just… we made a mistake! A big one!' He began to wring his hands. 'What do you… Look, what do you want?'
'Are you trying to bribe a port official, captain?' Kiyoi finally allowed herself a small, almost imperceptible smirk.
'No, no,' he stuttered, then leaned in. 'Maybe… will ya take one?'
This was going even better than she'd hoped.
'All I want, captain, is a show of good faith. A demonstration of your newfound loyalty and understanding of our strict harbour regulations.' Her gaze flickered to the eel-hound, then back to the captain. 'This magnificent creature, for example. It is clearly suffering under your "care." And considering its breed, it's very likely property that should have been turned over to the authorities.' She paused, pacing deliberately in front of them as if making up her mind. 'Now, if you were to, say, make a show of amnesty. A generous donation to the Port Authority's… operational budget, perhaps, this whole unfortunate incident could be forgotten. And this poor beast,' she patted the eel-hound's head, 'of course will be confiscated and placed in proper care.' She knew they wouldn't dare argue against 'confiscation.'
The captain swallowed hard. 'A donation? How much are we talkin' about?'
'Considering the severity of your transgressions, and the potential for further inquiry into your past interactions with my dear friend,' Kiyoi smirked at his grave face, 'I would say… Sixty percent of your cargo on board today. Turn it over to the Harbour Master’s offices by sundown, and I might just be inclined to overlook your general disreputable presence on a highly sensitive day for our Nation.'
The captain's face was a study in defeat. He looked from Kiyoi to his ship, then to his men, who were now looking anywhere but at him. 'Sixty percent?!' he whined.
'Would you rather I personally escort you to the Imperial Prison? I assure you, Prince Zuko has a very particular interest in those who commit high treason.' Kiyoi met the captain's gaze, a silent challenge passing between them. 'And the longer you delay, the more curious I become about your other… illicit activities.' She gave the eel-hound another, more purposeful pat, while her other hand toyed with the latch of the cage, awaiting an answer from the captain. The hound, sensing the shift, let out a low, eager whine and sprung up from ground in anticipation.
'Alright! Alright!' the captain blurted, throwing his hands up in surrender. 'Take the Hound, we'll turn over the cargo to the Harbour Master and get gone! Just make sure the Prince doesn't hear about this.'
'Thank you for your cooperation,' Kiyoi said smoothly, a flicker of triumph in her dark eyes. 'Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an eel-hound to escort to the Port Authority stables.' The men turned to head back to their ship and she opened the cage door, but the hound stayed put, as if it was uncertain it was allowed to leave. A thought struck her. 'Oh, and Captain,' she called back. 'Did she come with a bridle and saddle?'
The captain’s protests were muffled as his crew scrambled to obey, bringing a worn leather bridle and a surprisingly well-maintained saddle to Kiyoi. Seeing the saddle the Hound bounded from the cage in excitement. She wasted no time. With a gentle click of her tongue and an outstretched hand, she gave the eel-hound the 'down' command. She immediately settled, lowering itself so Kiyoi could fasten the saddle on her, the memory of her mother guiding her as she snapped the buckles into place and fixed the bridle and reins in place.
Then, she swung herself into the saddle. 'Well, gentlemen. I trust you won't make this any more difficult than it needs to be and that I will see you and your cargo in the Harbour Master’s offices before sundown. Good day.' she called, a hint of genuine amusement bleeding through her voice now. With a final, knowing glance at their pale, bewildered faces, Kiyoi nudged the eel-hound forward. The Hound sprang into motion, galloping along the jetty away from the pirates’ berth, weaving through the crowd and launching into the harbour waters, revelling in the freedom.
The cool harbour water rushed past her legs as the hound weaved its way swiftly through the waves. Kiyoi leaned forward, stroking the eel-hound’s sleek neck as it powered on, away from the Imperial City’s imposing silhouette.
'Does the water feel nice?' she asked with a smile, her voice soft against the rushing water and wind. 'Those scoundrels didn’t even give you a sponge bath. You don’t have to worry about them anymore; they’ll be handled.’ She spoke to the creature with an ease that surprised her. ‘I see the appeal in swindling those who deserve it now; it is satisfying.' A small chuckle escaped her. 'It's a shame we won't be there to see their faces when they show up at the Harbour Master's office and turn themselves in, supplying all the evidence needed to arrest them. It would be nice to see their comeuppance, but we've got places to be, hey, girl? You and I will be long gone… somewhere.'
The word 'somewhere' hung in the air, vast and uncertain. Kiyoi sighed, the humour draining from her voice, replaced by a quiet weariness. ‘It's been quite a day.'
She tightened her grip on the eel-hound's reins, steadying herself against the rhythmic surge and dip of its powerful swim. The adrenaline was beginning to recede, leaving behind a profound exhaustion. Her mind, however, refused to rest. Her friends. What had become of them in the failed invasion? The image of the burning subs, the scattered debris, flashed in her mind. Had they made it?
Azula had been ready for someone to break out Iroh. No doubt she would have anticipated that they might find the underground bunker. Somehow they had lost every advantage they had—the eclipse, Aang’s miraculous resurrection, her bending, their inventions. Gone.
‘Well, at least people won’t be looking for me,’ she mused. If I was even worth looking for in the first place.
Mai's words echoed in her ears, “Don't make me have to tell Zuko what happened to you.” Mai had used his name, then used her name, though she never gave it. It was a peculiar kind of torment, knowing he still spoke of her to his new friends, probably the same way she spoke of him: like speaking of the dead, someone lost to you. Oh, Zuko… what has become of you? Surely he would know now that what he had chosen was not what he wanted. Maybe returning home had been a revelation for him… but then, maybe it wasn’t. It was difficult to accept that the boy she befriended, grew to love, and who cared for her so earnestly, could become the monster his father wished to mould him into. A sharp thought found purchase before she could banish him from her mind. What would his father do to him when he realised the Avatar was still alive? Or worse… what if the discrepancies in Azula’s story had been rectified?
No, she countered, pushing the dread away. They just hadn't found Ozai in time during the eclipse, and the Fire Nation had been expecting them; that was why the invasion failed. Sokka today had forgone his usual easygoing and amicable nature to become the pragmatic and capable leader he could be, he would have gotten them out as soon as things started going bad. And Katara was sensible and formidable; she would have kept them safe. Aang, was uncapturable and beyond lucky. And Toph…well, she pitied anyone who tried to stand in her way. They had to have gotten away; she just had to have missed them. A meeting at the submarines would have been impossible; they had rained down explosives on them, they would have had to retreat. She was used to preparing for crushing disappointments, but this time, against her nature, she felt hopeful. Her friends were okay.
'If I can convince pirates to hand you over to me and turn themselves in arrested without lifting a finger,' she murmured to the eel-hound, stroking its neck, 'then there might be hope that you and me… can continue this fight, together, hey?' The eel-hound nudged her hand in response, then slowed her pace. The eel-hound peeked back at her anxiously.
Kiyoi looked ahead to the ominous flaming Gates of Azulon, a barrier of fire to the open ocean. The eel-hound became skittish, its powerful strokes faltering, a low whimper escaping its throat at the sight of the flames.
'It's alright, girl, we'll go under,' Kiyoi soothed, pressing her knees gently against its flanks. 'You can do this.' She encouraged her forward. With the fiery barrier close, Kiyoi inhaled, and she and the eel-hound dove.
The cold water enveloped them. Kiyoi immediately bent a bubble around their heads, encasing them in a shimmering sphere. They swam beneath the inferno, the flames a flickering, orange blur above. Through the murky depths, she could see the dark shapes of patrolling Fire Nation ships passing overhead, their keels gliding above them. But they remained unseen, unheard.
After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a few minutes, Kiyoi felt the air taste stale and her body grow heavy with exertion. She knew they were at a safe distance now. With a gasp, they surfaced, the eel-hound breaking the water with a grateful snort and shaking its head vigorously. With the fiery obstacle behind them, the hesitancy in the eel-hound’s pace was gone. She now surged through the water, panting and rumbling pleasantly, looking back at Kiyoi with a dopey grin.
‘Good girl, you're so brave,’ Kiyoi praised. The hound’s simple joy warmed her. She only wished she could feel a fraction of that much elation as she looked over her shoulder at Caldera, now a faint, dark line on the horizon behind them.
What now? She needed a solid plan, a direction.
Perhaps, stick to the old plan: find Iroh, find Aang, master Fire Bending before the comet, save the world.
Step one; find Iroh. If he escaped prison, would probably seek refuge with a White Lotus member. Master Piandao was her sole acquaintance within the Fire Nation’s White Lotus chapter. And if Iroh wasn’t there, she could at least count on Piandao as an ally. A safe place to contemplate the best course of action. It wasn’t a fully fledged plan, but at least now, she had a destination. Shu Jing was far, but not outrageously so. There were smaller islands for the hound to stop and rest if she needed, but judging by the pace she was moving now and what Kiyoi knew of eel-hounds if they had been pent up for too long; they’d likely make landfall by late evening. Using the sun’s position, she determined where East was and steered the hound in the direction of Shu Jing.
The last vestiges of twilight faded into true night, as a dark silhouette emerged from the sea and continued to run into the forest toward the mountains. Reaching a ridge, she soon saw the township of Shu Jing below; a small cluster of lights nestled in the foothills.
'Good girl,' Kiyoi whispered, patting her flank. 'You did well.'
The Hound began to slow its pace now, as they continued up the ridge. Piandao’s castle, perched on a hill overlooking the slumbering township, seemed to float in the moonlit darkness. No lights shone from its windows, and a quiet stillness hung in the air, broken only by the distant droning of the waterfall and symphony of crickets.
Leading the eel-hound up the winding path, Kiyoi approached the main gates of the estate. They were wide open, unbarred, almost invitingly so. A prickle of apprehension traced its way down her spine. No alarms, no guards, no indication of a struggle – just an eerie emptiness. This was not the secure, fortified home of a reclusive swordmaster she remembered. But, she supposed it was late. It was unlikely the household would be awake at this hour.
They moved through the castle’s outer courtyard toward the front entrance. The heavy wooden doors, to her surprise, were unbarred, not quite ajar, but certainly not secured. Her hand went to her side, reaching and grasping at air. My Sword… Then, only when her hand then reached around her back did she register her water skin had been confiscated by Ty Lee and Mai.
‘Blast.’ She gritted. Sadness struck her; her friends had gotten her the water skin. That had been a gift.
‘Remain,’ she instructed the eel-hound, who curiously had her snout burred in a crafted topiary of a leaping tiger-dillo. The hound let out a playful whine, nudging the static bush with her snout as if inviting it to play, then dropped her front paws to the ground, her tail wagging furiously in the air.
Warily, Kiyoi pushed one door open further. Her footfalls echoed on the lotus motif tiles at her feet as she continued, calling out into the darkness.
‘Hello?’ The air was tinged with the lingering aroma of incense, but more concerningly, it was also thick with silence. She didn't want to intrude, but she needed to confirm that Master Piandao and his valet, Fat, weren't there. More importantly, she needed to know why the castle seemed abandoned.
‘Master Piandao?’ she called out a little louder. There was no reply. ‘Fat? Anyone?’
Kiyoi conducted a quick search, moving from room to room with the quiet learned efficiency of her days spent doing quarter inspections aboard a ship. The library, a vast chamber filled with scrolls and books, stood undisturbed, perhaps even emptier than she remembered. The dining room was bare, not even the smell of food tinged it. The kitchen had no dishes left drying, nor did the stove have any warmth from the last pot of tea boiled before turning in for the night. The upstairs lamps weren’t lit, and the shutters weren’t closed to obscure the moonlight. The halls were empty. The bedroom and wardrobe doors, hanging open. Outside the forge’s coals were cold, the training equipment packed away, and most of the sword racks were empty. No signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle—Perhaps a hurried departure?
The Master probably had to flee, she reasoned. After a failed invasion, if they started hunting around for the Avatar, eventually someone would hear of the Water Tribe boy who forged a sword here. Even someone as respected as Piandao might be branded a traitor for simply knowing them. Or perhaps he thought that her letter to Iroh could be traced back to him. Either way, it made sense; staying here must have been too risky.
Before dismay could completely overtake her, her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten properly since before the invasion began. Deciding against disturbing any of the more formal living quarters, she made her way back to the kitchen, conceding to intrude perhaps a little on Piandao’s hospitality. She wasn’t the only mouth she had to feed. Kiyoi found a sack of rice, exactly what she needed. She pulled a pot off the shelf, filled it with water from a nearby cistern, and, unable to find any spark rock or flint, wearily crouched into her stance, clenching her fists and pulling at the water, agitating it into a boil. She kept an eye on it, Bending every time the water stopped steaming. The familiar act of cooking, mundane as it was, provided a small anchor in the unsettling silence.
As the rice simmered, she used the borrowed Water Tribe shirt and various herbs and rice wine to clean and wrap the worst of her wounds. Wincing at the sting; she glanced out the kitchen window. Below, in the moonlit gardens, the eel-hound was rolling in the grass, a dark, joyous streak against the pale green, utterly content in its newfound freedom. Kiyoi watched for a moment, a sliver of peace settling over her. At least one of them was happy.
As the rice finished simmering, Kiyoi ladled a portion into a bowl. Her stomach growled in anticipation, but as she lifted the spoon, a sudden, heavy wave of loneliness washed over her in the dark stone kitchen. This was the first meal she’d had entirely alone since she ran away from home. Since she stowed away on Zuko’s ship. Every meal had been shared with someone–with the crew, then with Iroh, or with Zuko and then with the Avatar and his friends. The silence of the absence of anyone amplified the hollow ache in her chest. She couldn't eat here, not like this. With a sigh, she picked up the pot and the single bowl, heading towards the back door.
‘Come on,’ she called softly to the eel-hound.
The eel-hound trotted over eagerly, its playful energy a welcome distraction as Kiyoi followed where it seemed to want to guide her. Its sniffing led them to a large, sturdy building nestled behind the main castle. The hound pawed at the large door insistently. A stable. But not for ostrich-horses or komodo-rhinos; the stalls were wide, low fenced and and equipped with a swallow wading pool stretched between the two empty stalls. An eel-hound stable. Piandao and Fat must have left on eel-hounds of their own. It made perfect sense – a swift, discreet escape. Her Eel-hound immediately began sniffing the place enthusiastically and thoroughly.
Kiyoi found a working water pump. She filled one of the troughs for her companion, who drank deeply, gulping down the cool water with relish. Then, Kiyoi sat on a bale of hay, placing the pot of rice beside the eel-hound, who immediately began to nudge at the rice.
‘Eat up,’ Kiyoi murmured, beginning to eat her own portion from her bowl. The simple warmth of the food was a small comfort, but her thoughts quickly drifted back to her friends. ‘I hope they’re alright,’ she confided to the eel-hound, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘The invasion… it was such a disaster. It looked like a lot of our troops were taken prisoner. If they were among the captives… I don’t know what I’m going to do.’ She chewed slowly, the rice suddenly tasting as unpalatable as sawdust. ‘Thank you for trusting me and being a sure and steadfast steed. You’ve done very well. Exemplary.’ She praised, observing the hound another moment longer. ‘You know, what’s strange about our alliance is that as a child, I was always so frightened of eel-hounds. Because of how big you all are and how excitable you can get, I wasn’t always so tall, it’s hard to believe I found you all so intimidating.’ She watched it eat, and a melancholy smile touched her face. ‘But now that my mother’s gone, I regret I wasn’t brave enough to go riding with her more often. To spend more time with her. I regret a lot. Especially now that I understand the joy she tried to share with me. Your speed is exhilarating, freeing. And your company… is a comfort.’
She watched the eel-hound eat, its quiet contentment a small comfort in the vast uncertainty that still swelled within her. Not wanting to intrude more than she already had on Piandao's absent hospitality, Kiyoi decided against sleeping in the main castle. She found a clean bedroll in a linen cupboard near the kitchen and headed back out to the stable, laying it out in a clean and dry patch of hay.
The eel-hound, tired out from its long journey, curled up around her the moment she lay down, resting its heavy head on her stomach as if trying to comfort her. Kiyoi patted its scaly head absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting and swelling with anxiety and uncertainty about the future. But wrapped in the gentle warmth of her new companion, a profound weariness finally overtook her, and she fell asleep.
Morning brought no clarity, only a renewed sense of urgency. Kiyoi awoke in the quiet stable, the eel-hound's warm weight still a comforting presence against her. Unsure what to do, but needing to do something, she contemplated perhaps waiting a few days to see if Iroh showed up. But would she just be wasting precious time?
Mulling it over she decided to head into the township of Shu Jing to gather information. Maybe some townsfolk were aware of Piandao’s destination or the direction of he had been heading? The eel-hound, for all her charm, was a bit conspicuous. So after assuring her she would return and filling a bowl with some feed she found, Kiyoi slipped out of the castle grounds alone, making her way down the winding path to the town below.
When she arrived in the square, a loud gong clanged repeatedly. The people who were around seemed to stop whatever they were in the middle of and walk towards the town square.
Kiyoi merged into the crowd with apprehension as the local magistrate stood brandishing a long scroll, with a booming voice, began to make a public announcement. His words, amplified by the early hour, echoed through the waking streets. ‘The treacherous invasion has been decisively crushed! Three hundred of the enemy were killed in glorious combat!’
Kiyoi’s stomach twisted. She knew their force had barely numbered eighty. The lie was so blatant it was almost insulting. She kept her expression neutral, blending into the small crowd of early risers.
‘But the attack revealed a most dangerous threat to our nation has not been vanquished! The Avatar is alive, revived by vile Water Tribe Dark Arts, and he is now at large,’ the magistrate read.
Gasps and murmurs surged through the crowd. Water Tribe Dark Arts? Kiyoi wanted to scoff, who’d believe that? But she heard murmurs: ‘Water bending sorcery—it’s real! I heard they can make their dead walk into the ocean themselves so they don’t have to waste coal burning them.’ Kiyoi’s eyebrows shot up, and she turned around looking for the moron, but she heard another whisper from in front of her, ‘My grandpa said Water Benders can freeze themselves, slow their heart and appear dead for days, and then thaw themselves out, and strike.’
The woman next to him gasped, ‘They can play chicken-possum?’
Kiyoi hadn’t heard of such a technique.
The man continued, ‘Yeah, they’re cowards. They’d pretend to be dead, and our soldiers would pile them up with the dead and then at night they’d come to life when they were strongest when our troops didn't expect it, it why you have to burn 'em fully when you kill them, make sure they stay dead. The Avatar must have learned the technique.’
It was an interesting theory, wrong… but interesting.
The magistrate’s assistant held up an enlarged wanted poster of Aang as the magistrate continued. ‘The Avatar is incredibly dangerous and is travelling with a gang of young rebel benders by his side! Anyone harbouring these traitors will face severe penalties! Any information leading to their capture will be handsomely rewarded!’
He paused, his eyes tracing down the letter, letting the dramatic declaration hang in the air. ‘Furthermore, by order of his Majesty Fire Lord Ozai, in light of his failure, the royal status of Crown Prince Zuko has hereby been stripped from him! He is now considered a traitor to the Fire Nation, having failed to prevent this attack on our nation. And the former Crown Prince Iroh has conspired with the Avatar and plotted treason, and during the Day of Black Sun, escaped the custody of His Majesty’s mercy, his immediate termination or capture is of utmost importance to the security of this nation! Glory to the Fire Nation and our Gracious Fire Lord Ozai, long may he reign!’
Kiyoi’s breath hitched. They had all escaped. They hadn’t been captured. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over her: relief that Aang and the group were safe but sorrow for Zuko; exiled, again. The happy news was that he was alive and that, if they were announcing a reward for his capture, he had managed to flee the palace. But where he had gone and what he would do now; she did not know. If he was still hung up on his father’s approval, a rejection like this would be a severe blow to him. He would not be doing well. Still, she just hoped he remained safe.
The magistrate then began to rattle off commendations of soldiers and more exaggerated nonsense about the battle, but her gaze, however, fixed on the post office behind the magistrate, where messenger hawks were alighting in the roost. Suddenly remembering the message she’d sent Iroh via Master Piandao.
‘Hawky.’ She said to herself in epiphany.
Hawky was Sokka's designated 'roost', trained to find him. Hawky could find Sokka, and where Sokka was, hopefully, everyone else would be.
She pushed through the dissolving crowd and into the post office. A harried-looking worker was sorting scrolls behind the counter. With an air of casualness, Kiyoi approached him. 'Excuse me, I'm here to retrieve a hawk. It's registered to a Mr. Wang Lee. He moved address, and the bird hasn't returned to sender, you see.'
The attendant barely looked up from his ledger. 'Wang Lee, you say? Nope, don't have any hawks registered to a Wang Lee here. Been a while since we had one come in under that name.'
Kiyoi frowned, Hawky had to be here; he wouldn’t have been able to- then she groaned inwardly. Sokka, you idiot. She couldn't believe he'd been so careless, or perhaps, so predictably obvious. 'Sorry, how about a Mr. Wang Fire?' she asked, forcing a pleasant tone. 'You know… since Lee is quite common, he sometimes registers under that alias?'
The attendant grumbled, finally looking up with a long-suffering sigh. 'Oh, yeah, Wang Fire's hawk has been here for weeks. You let him know he was one day away from having to pay a fine for prolonged boarding.' He pointed to a hawk in a row of roosts at the back.
‘Thank you sir, forgive our tardiness in picking him up.’ Relief flooded Kiyoi as she spotted Hawky, blinking sleepily back at her from a perch. She quickly retrieved the hawk, who settled onto her shoulder with a happy chirp, seemingly quite contented to be carried out into the morning sun.
As Kiyoi walked up the hill towards the castle, a flash of a dark green shadow caught her eye. The eel-hound emerged from the treeline, its head low, its large eyes fixed anxiously on her. It had come to meet her halfway, clearly worried that she wasn't coming back. A soft smile touched Kiyoi’s lips as she reached out to stroke its head.
'Hey, it’s alright,' Kiyoi murmured, stroking the eel-hound's head as it nudged her hand, a soft whine rumbling in its chest. 'I wasn’t going to leave you. I was coming back. We're a team now, you and me,’ The eel-hound pressed into her touch, its anxiety seeming to ease. ‘And Hawky here is going to help us figure out where to go next, come on.'
Back at the deserted estate, Kiyoi moved with purpose. She returned to the kitchen, gathering more provisions—rice, preserved fruits, some eggs a pot and a knife. She found a couple of sturdy pouches and filled them, slinging one across her own body and attaching another to the eel-hound's saddle. The bedroll she’d used last night was rolled tightly and secured behind the saddle. Before leaving, she found a scrap of parchment and a pen in the library. With a moment's thought, she scrawled a cryptic note, hoping it would make sense if Piandao returned:
'Hospitality appreciated. Necessities borrowed for urgent travel. Repayment to follow. Hope to find you well. - Mika.'
It was just enough to explain the missing items without giving away to much. She tucked the message under a vase in the dinning room, where it would be found eventually.
Outside, with the sun now higher in the sky, Kiyoi considered her next move. If Team Avatar were truly fleeing the capital, avoiding the war balloons, they would have likely headed further west first, away from the immediate chaos of the harbour. And sending Hawky with a message carried a risk of interception, so sending him without one was the safest option. Hawky would keep returning to her until he found Sokka. If she followed Hawky, close enough on the hound, eventually Hawky would not return, indicating the right direction.
'Go, Hawky,' Kiyoi whispered, holding the hawk out towards the west. 'Find Sokka. Find our friends.'
With a sharp cry, Hawky launched himself into the sky, a dark speck against the rising sun, quickly disappearing over the western horizon, back towards the capital. She then turned to the eel-hound, who was watching the hawk's departure with keen interest. She swung herself into the saddle, settling the reins in her hands. 'Alright, girl,' she said, patting the eel-hound's neck. 'We’re following that hawk. As long as it takes.'
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues. Kiyoi and the eel-hound had been travelling westward for hours when Hawky, a dark arrow against the twilight, suddenly veered back, soaring towards them for the second time that day with rapid wingbeats. He landed gently on Kiyoi's shoulder, a soft, urgent coo escaping his beak.
'No luck, then?' she murmured, her heart sinking even as a part of her had expected it. Sokka and the others wouldn't be near the capital still. It was too dangerous. They were too smart for that.
With this new confirmation, Kiyoi turned the eel-hound north, veering toward the dark silhouette that emerged from the waves ahead– the desolate obsidian and basalt island with lava flows glowing like a beacon; Roku's Island. It was a small, shrine island, rarely visited. A fitting place for a temporary refuge.
They made landfall on a small, secluded beach of black volcanic sand. Kiyoi dismounted, stretching her weary limbs. She found a sheltered spot amongst the craggy rocks, away from the biting wind, and began to set up a small camp. She pulled out the pot and rice, scooping water from a nearby spring that trickled from the rocks She pulled a fish from the ocean and threw it onto the beach. But before she could fillet it, the hound pounced upon it.
‘Alright then, someone’s hungry.’ Kiyoi managed a small chuckle and grimaced as the poor fish was torn to shreds. ‘That was mine, but I guess you can have that one. You’ve been a very good girl.’ She turned back to the ocean and waded out to her waist, this time trying her new technique she had been working on. Feeling the waves around her legs, feeling the tide surge through her, feeling the rush of a small school of bait fish swimming ahead darting away from—she felt the larger wake, the disturbance and reached for it yanking it and flinging it to shore behind her. She opened her eyes to see a larger fish flopping around on the beach and smiled. ‘Dinner.’
As the rice and fish simmered in the pot she strung up over a thermal spring, Kiyoi stared out to sea, a melancholic quiet settling over her. 'I've been here before,' she murmured to the eel-hound, who lay patiently beside her, head on its paws. 'With them.' A soft sigh escaped her lips. 'Aang told us about his Past life Roku, and how he was friends with Fire Lord Sozin. One cannot help but feel a sense of sadness, and wonder how can someone go from shared laughter and inside jokes to icy silences and simmering resentment—how can a friendship devolve into bitterness?' She stirred the rice idly. 'Aang seems to think it's impossible, that there's always a way back. But I know it can happen.' Her thoughts drifted, inevitably, to Zuko, the sharp pain of their parting, the chasm that had opened between them.
After finishing her meal, she found her bedroll, laid it out on a relatively smooth patch of ground, and lay down. Exhausted yet steadfast, the eel-hound settled around her, its warm, muscular body a comforting presence, its breath a soft sigh against her skin. Its head once again rested on her torso, fighting against the anxieties that still swelled within her. Lost in the fog of thoughts as the night deepened, Kiyoi petted the hound’s head until sleep finally claimed her.
Morning brought a desolate beauty to the volcanic island, the rising sun sparking of the hunks of obsidian. Kiyoi stretched, her muscles protesting from the previous day's exertions, but her mind felt a little clearer. Hawky preened on a nearby rock, occasionally casting an inquisitive glance at the still-sleeping eel-hound.
She started to pack their provisions. 'Aang's past lives are very different to him,' she mused aloud, mostly to herself, but her animal companions listened attentively. 'I don't understand it. You'd think a past life would be you, your personality in a different body. Your spirit stays the same, but you are in a different form… but Avatars are vastly different in personality. So is there some sort of spirit they have in common? Or is it just… a connection to the elements no one else has? Do you think I have past lives too? Maybe the rest of us don't get past lives.' She looked at the eel-hound, who was now upside down, tongue lolling out, utterly unconcerned with the philosophical musings. 'Maybe this conversation isn't going anywhere.'
She looked at Hawky, then around them at the desolate volcanic island, pondering which direction to send him next.
She didn’t want to waste another day sending the hawk in the wrong direction. She couldn’t afford to just send him in a random direction and hope for the best. She sighed. She was out of ideas; well she did still have one.
‘Hello spirits, if any of you are listening, I’d really appreciate some insight right now.’ She cringed at the silence. ‘Uh…Thank you, Tui… or do you go by Yue now? And thank you, La, you’ve guided my journey these past few days…Much appreciated. Um, Roku? Maybe… I don’t know if you converse to us regular folk but…you are a past life of my friend and …' Kiyoi stopped, her eyes snapping open. 'The Past!' she exclaimed, the eel-hound perking its head up, concerned at her sudden outburst.
‘Aang won't return to places he'd been before in the Fire Nation, not now that he's a wanted man. But perhaps he would go somewhere he had been before… in the distant past.’ Kiyoi rambled, strategising aloud. ‘The Western Air Temple, I have no idea where it is exactly, but we have our heading, north!’ With a renewed sense of purpose, she held Hawky out. 'Alright, Hawky. To Sokka.'
With Hawky flying ahead of them, Kiyoi followed, the eel-hound's rhythmic gait a steadying presence beneath her, churning through the waves.
Kiyoi spent the lonely hours pondering the Avatar's past lives, the question that had sparked her current direction. It truly was bewildering. Avatars were supposed to be the same spirit, reincarnated, yet Roku and Aang were so vastly different. Roku was stern, traditional, a powerful, almost imposing figure. Aang, for all his strength, was a goofy, compassionate pacifist. What connected them, beyond the immense power they wielded? Was it just the spirit of the Avatar itself, a distinct entity that lent its power and some core essence, but allowed the personality of the host to shine through? Or was it something deeper, something in the very fabric of the world that shaped each incarnation differently according to the needs of the time? What did that mean for people like her?
More than ever, she longed for Iroh’s presence. He would have answers, or at least, more fascinating questions. She missed his calm, his steady presence, and frankly, she simply missed human company. After years on Zuko's ship, then the chaotic last few months with the Avatar’s group, these past days alone had laid bare a profound hole in her own understanding of herself. She believed she was independent, self-reliant. But the deep ache loneliness caused surprised her. She missed the arguments, the shared meals, the simple presence of another person. She missed them all.
In her solitude, memories of shared moments flickered in her mind. The laughter that once filled the air, the heated debates that fueled her mind, and the comforting silence of companionship – all seemed like treasures. The emptiness within her grew, emphasising the vastness of the sea that surrounded her. As she gazed at the horizon, a sense of longing tugged at her heart. The realisation dawned on her that perhaps; she was not as independent and solitary as she thought. Perhaps she had underestimated how much comfort she found in the simple presence of others, in sharing experiences, in having a companion to face the obstacles of life.
At that Kiyoi mused, 'You've been a good companion, haven't you? I should give you a name.'
She considered the hound, its sleek form cutting through the water, its large, soulful yellow eyes occasionally glancing back at her. A name, a true name, felt like a proper acknowledgment of their bond forged in chaos. She thought hard, sifting through memories, searching for a name that truly fit this magnificent, loyal creature. Then, it came to her, a soft echo from a happier time.
'Pebo?' Kiyoi tried the name aloud, a soft, almost reverent whisper. The eel-hound's head perked up, and she turned her massive head, blinking at Kiyoi as if in understanding. 'Yes,' Kiyoi confirmed, a small smile gracing her lips. 'Pebo. After my mother's favourite hound. It suits you. You have his spirit.'
They travelled for a full day, the sun arching high above and then beginning its descent. As they drew closer to the ancient Western Air Territories, the islands began to change. The water, once uniformly blue, grew darker, the air colder, carrying the sharp scent of pine. Hawky, too, seemed to fly with more urgency, often disappearing for longer stretches before, unfortunately, returning each time.
The familiar ache of fatigue settled deep in Kiyoi's bones, saddle sore and windburnt, but her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, searching for any sign of a familiar speck. A weary smile touched her lips when there wasn't one. She almost cried out of joy, but then a tiny dark spot reappeared in the glow of the dipping sun. Hawky. Returning. Again.
Kiyoi’s shoulders slumped, a sigh escaping her lips. He hadn't found them.
They made landfall on a small, uninhabited island, part of the scattered archipelago of what was the Western Air Nomads’ territory. Its cliffs rose steeply from the water, dotted with sparse, wind-stunted trees. Kiyoi found a small, sheltered cove, largely hidden from any passing ships, where they could rest.
As the last light faded, Kiyoi built a small fire from the driftwood scattered around the pebble beach, carefully shielded by rocks. She cooked another sparse meal of rice and fish, a quiet ritual against the gnawing uncertainty. Pebo rested nearby, a dark, silent guardian. Hawky, perched on a branch above, grooming his feathers.
As she ate, nestled beside Pebo, who was already dozing contentedly, Kiyoi felt a familiar stubbornness take root. She refused to let despair take hold.
'They have to be here,' Kiyoi murmured to herself, then to Pebo. 'Hawky just hasn't found them yet.' The Western Air Islands were scattered, and her initial, vague direction might not have been precise enough. They were close. She could feel it. She wouldn't give up. Not now. Not when she was so close to finding the last people she had in the world. She closed her eyes, picturing Aang's smile, Katara's hug, Sokka's laugh, Toph's affectionate punches. They were out there. And she would find them.
Morning dawned, and Kiyoi packed her meager camp, her resolve from the night before solidified.
'Alright, Hawky,' she murmured, extending her arm. 'One more try. North-east this time. Find them.’ With a determined squawk, Hawky launched himself from her arm, spiralling upwards into the vast sky before setting his course. Kiyoi watched him until he was a tiny speck, then turned to Pebo. 'Let's go, girl. Time to follow our scout.'
They left the small windswept island behind, Pebo's powerful strokes carrying them swiftly across the water. After several hours of steady travel, the scattered archipelago gave way to a larger landmass. Rocky, mountainous, and heavily forested, it was unmistakably the mainland. Pebo's webbed feet transitioning effortlessly from water to land. Kiyoi guided her through the dense, unfamiliar forest, aiming for higher ground.
Eventually, they came upon a deep, winding ravine, a natural path cutting through the rugged terrain. Hope, fragile but persistent, began to build within her. It was around around midday now and Hawky hadn't returned. The longer he was gone, the more likely it was that he had found Sokka. Kiyoi urged Pebo forward, her eyes scanning the sheer rock faces that loomed above them. Then, she saw it. High above, nestled impossibly against the cliff face, were the unmistakable structures of the Western Air Temple hanging precariously from the top of the ravine.
Relief flooded her senses. 'We found it, Pebo!'
With a gentle nudge of her knees, Kiyoi directed the eel-hound towards the base of the cliff. Pebo’s claws, usually used for swimming and traversing muddy banks, unretracted fully, digging into the rock with surprising grip.
The path up was treacherous, little more than a narrow, winding goat trail. But Pebo, with her sharp claws and surefootedness, was undaunted, finding purchase on seemingly impossible ledges. With the wind whipping at her hair and clothes, she clung to Pebo’s saddle, her muscles screaming with effort, but her gaze remained fixed upwards, driven by the tantalizing sight of the Western Air Temple's impossible architecture. They were close. So close. They were here. They had to be. Each careful inch brought them closer to the last people she had in the world.
Then, a flicker of movement above caught her eye. Her heart stopped. It was Hawky, flying away from the temple, soaring back in the direction they had just come. Kiyoi’s shoulders slumped. Disappointment, cold and immediate, washed over her. He hadn't found them after all. Her plan, her hope – all for nothing. They weren't here.
A defeated sigh escaped her. But she could let the despair overtake her completely, Hawky, with a stubborn squawk, suddenly veered back. He circled once, twice, then, as if making a defiant decision, turned and flew directly back towards the temple entrance, disappearing into the building above her.
Kiyoi blinked. He was going back in! A surge of renewed hope, fierce and electric, coursed through her veins. They were up there! Hawky must have been sent back to her, but seeing she had caught up he returned to Sokka.
Pebo let out a low, excited rumble beneath her, sensing her shift in mood. Kiyoi urged the eel-hound faster, pushing through the final, challenging stretch of the climb. Her ears strained, trying to discern any sound above the wind. Pebo’s long, slender black claws curled over the edge of the stone courtyard above them, and Kiyoi braced herself, anticipation thrumming through every nerve as with a final leap and push up they scrambled over the edge of the stone.
A low, resonant grumble filled her ears, and she lifted her head towards it.
'Appa, get bac—' Kiyoi's vision was filled with an enormous maw and furry face and before she could react, Appa struck.
'Appa! That’s gross! NO! STOP!' Kiyoi shrieked, batting at the slobbery pink muscle. '—You don’t know where I’ve been! Hey! Hey, NO! No more! I’m happy to see you, too.' She was covered in bison drool, but she couldn't help but laugh, a joyous, unrestrained sound that echoed through the quiet courtyard as she dismounted Pebo, her leg a little unsteady from the ride. Appa nuzzled her and tilted his head at Pebo blinking slowly, processing her presence.
'Am I hearing who I think I’m hearing?!' Toph’s voice filled her with an almost unbelievable relief.
'KIYOI!' Aang’s cry was pure elation, and he vaulted over Appa, rushing towards her, ignoring the sticky mess and tackling her in a winding hug. She looked up from the boy wrapped around her waist to see Sokka and Katara running towards her, weaving through Appa’s legs, their faces alight with smiles. Tears pricked her eyes. They were here. All of them. And they were safe.
Toph tunneled up through the middle of the crushing hug and wrapped her arms around her legs, a triumphant smile on her face. 'I knew it!' Toph declared, then punched Kiyoi's leg with her usual affectionate force. 'You owe me a story, Fusspot!'
Kiyoi laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound, even if it ended in a cough. 'It’s a long one. Let's just say Royal hospitality leaves something to be desired.' The words, spoken aloud, brought a fresh wave of exhaustion but also a fierce satisfaction. She had survived. And now, she was back where she belonged. With her friends, finally feeling the relief she hadn't allowed herself to feel in days.
Then, Katara pulled back, her eyes scanning Kiyoi's singed hair and tattered clothes, a flash of alarm replacing the joy. 'You're in such a state,' Katara cried, her voice choked. 'Oh, look at your hair!' She reached up, her fingers gently touching the uneven, choppy strands on the left side of her face.
The group broke apart the hug, and Kiyoi ran her eyes over each of her friends and Appa, searching for injuries. They seemed okay, but Toph was sitting on the ground, her feet bandaged. Her concern spiked.
Her Pebo sensing the shift in attention, nuzzled her hand briefly before bounding off to drink from the fountain. 'I... I'm so sorry I missed the rendezvous,' she began, her voice hoarse, her gaze sweeping over Sokka and Katara. 'I couldn’t reach Iroh. Azula planned for everything. Her friends were ready for us at the prison.'
'Azula?' Sokka's voice was sharp, replacing his earlier relief. 'She captured you? Are you alright? What did she do?'
'I'm fine. Never got to have an audience with the princess,' she rasped. 'Courtesy of that secret river Aang learnt about in school–good to know they teach something useful at school–I got back to the subs, only to watch them blow up, and I realised we lost So I made myself scarce and I met my new friend—' she gestured to her Eel Hound, still head down in the fountain. '—and we went to see if Master Piandao could help, and he was gone. We found Hawky, and I’ve been using him to try find you.' She paused, her voice was getting raspy, unused to extended conversation. 'And then an overly friendly Air Bison decided to give me a bath.' She gestured to the slobber dripping from her shirt. 'And that’s about it. So, what did I miss? What happened to Toph?'
The Group exchanged glances. A tension, thick and palpable, settled among them. Kiyoi frowned. 'What is it?'
Sokka cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. 'Um... there's been a development.'
Kiyoi waited, her eyes narrowed slightly as she sensed the shift in their demeanour. ‘A development?’
Sokka hesitated, then took a breath. 'He... he’s joined us.' He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and Appa shifted to reveal a lone figure awkwardly standing next to a pillar, staring back at them with those golden eyes.
Breath fled her lungs.
Zuko?