7 Zar'un

"What's this?" I asked, referring to the parcel of paper placed on my desk.

"Another one of the monk's notes. Like the others, it looks like it was torn out of a larger piece, a book perhaps."

"Where did you find it?" I asked as I skimmed the writing.

"Don't listen to what they say. Watch out for the others. Hide your abilities. Shroud your past." What did it mean? Instructions? For him? For somebody else?

"In the library. In the military history section. Orders?"

I flipped the note to the other side where the same writing could be seen that had been on the back of every other note we'd found:

"Trust nobody."

"Burn it with the rest."

"Yes sir!" he said as he saluted me and walked off. When the door closed, I let my head fall onto my hands, elbows on the desk. I thought this would be over by now. We found those notes in bulk in the days following monk Gyani's arrest and execution. How we had an air monk in our ranks for so long without arousing suspicion still bothered me. Sure, he didn't have the shaved head or the arrows, but a damn air monk. From the way they looked in the old pictures, it would have been impossible not to notice one in a room of a thousand. After his execution, we found more, then it slowed down. We found the last one 3 months ago and then the one today. When would this finally be behind us? I followed my orders to the letter. Killed him the second suspicion was raised. Made a show of it too, publicly. Guess it wasn't enough. His legacy still remained.

I heard a knock at the door that immediately put my senses on alert. I raise my head, smoothed my uniform, and straightened my back. "Send him in."

The 2 guards opened the double doors in unison and in walked Gaz-di, principal of the military academy.

"Principal." I said with a salute. The Fire Nation respected a proper education and upbringing. It was a stable initiation and introduction to the military culture of the nation. Men like Gaz-di were needed, respectful and respected. I was lucky to have one such as him running the academy. I had no doubt every student within these walls would make welcome additions to our garrison. Assuming they're not sent to the frontlines first.

"Captain." He said with a salute as he sat down. It was a rare occurrence for him to come here. If it was him pleading for more funding, he would get the same answer as he did the last few times. Education was valued in the Fire Nation, but so was not dying. That little money this city had was needed for defense, the inner wall mostly now. Last I heard from the slums, the food crisis was getting even worse and the people were rioting. A new gang has formed known as the Vipers and have had no trouble gaining volunteers. From what I've heard, they're violent and ruthless. Soon enough, I may have to impose a curfew on this city, quarantine the slums. The tunnel was still holding up, but caravans that came through claim they could start to see sunlight shining through. That wasn't a comforting thought.

"You have news for me?"

"I do. It's regarding one of the students. There's been an incident."

"What kind of incident?"

"The kind that resulted in one of our dear coach Zandar's best prospects being sent to the infirmary with 2nd degree burns on his face neck and chest."

"Damn it! I told you that firebenders weren't to be placed in the fighting classes as nonbenders."

"That's just the thing. We didn't know he could bend."

"You mean- "

"A late bloomer. Yes."

I brought a hand to my face to rub some of the sleep from my eyes that had accumulated from a series of sleepless nights. A late bloomer. How long has it been since one of those? They're rare, but they do happen. I knew the student he was talking about. Zihe. I never did like that little shit. I wouldn't feel sorry for him, but I will show sympathies when his parents barge in demanding reparations.

"This late bloomer of ours. Who is he?"

"Cadet Luke, sir."

I wanted to laugh when I heard that. I'm sure Gaz-di wanted to as well. He always did root for the underdogs. At least now I could start pushing away my regrets at letting those slum kids into this city. Maybe all those complaints and threats from the students' parents regarding housing them with criminals would be worth it now. Somehow though, I knew it wouldn't be as simple as that.

"Well then. What's the state of our bending dojo right now?"

"Disbanded, sir. As of last year, remember? When our last firebending students were sent to the front?"

"Right. Them. They keep on getting younger and younger." They were both 14. Twins. I remembered them well. Nice kids. "But their teacher is still around as I recall. Too old for combat?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Tell him he has a new student."

"Of course. And as for his standard close quarters combat class?"

"Take him out of it. If he's managed to get a hit at Zihe's face and struck it, I think we've taught him enough. Besides, I don't need him burning any more of our students."

"Yes sir."

"But do make sure his new teacher catches him up. I won't have an untrained child wielding fire in our academy."

"Understood sir." He saluted. And left.

I let that suppressed chuckle finally escape me. This evening had suddenly become a lot better for me. I always hated our coach. Only thing that got him his job was his last name. If I couldn't fire him for this, I could at least make his career hell, but perhaps losing Zihe was enough for him. I would think on it.

I looked back to my desk at the newfound dust from the monk's letter. How many more would I find? I killed him, but his memories and thoughts remained. His legacy still resided in the military district here. We knew of his letters, but what more of his legacy remained. What was still here that we hadn't yet discovered?