Captain Zar'un

The water of the faucet ran over my hands, washing away the dirt, dust, and blood of today's unpleasantries out of my sight. I cupped the water into my hands, letting it build into a minimal basin before splashing it on my eyes. I blinked away the droplets beneath my eyelids as I turned my head upwards to face the image of myself, looking back at me. While his hair was neatly combed, his beard immaculately trimmed, his uniform fit for inspection by his ancient drill sergeant, Zaom, his bloodshot eyes told another story, one that he prayed his subjects wouldn't find out.

He had spent the last half-year knowing there within his city, within the ranks of those he trusted most in the world, there was an individual seeking to undermine him, threatening everything he had worked towards his own life. Every night for the last half-year had been spent not knowing who to trust, who was loyal to his Nation and who was a traitor, worried to sleep with both eyes closed at night for fear that he'd open them to find a dagger at his throat. But one month ago, he'd found his answer, and every day since then had been preparing for his revenge against that which sentenced him to this living hell. But today, that man had gotten his wish. I had gotten my wish. Lee Shuni was dead. No. Lee Shuni had never been alive. He had just been a mask worn by the man whose real name had been Gyani.

A monk. I wanted to chuckle. It was still too ridiculous to think about. I could have sworn he'd been lying, even after all the torture, still just finding one more lie to feed me, one more way to make a fool out of me. But he'd never let go of it, not until his final moments. A monk infiltrated Taisho. My city. I delirious scoff escaped from my mouth at the sheer madness of it all.

How? They were supposed to all be dead. We'd killed them all nearly a hundred years ago! What is it then? Are there more hiding? Have they reinhabited their temples? No, no. We always have scouts watching them, it can't be that. Then what is it then? Are they all like Gyani? Sinking their claws into our Nation, ready to tear us apart from the inside?

The faucet was still running. I cupped another handful of water and splashed it on my face, blinking wildly once again. The man in the mirror was a man trying as hard as he could to keep himself together, to not let himself grow idle in thinking the job was far from over. There was still so much more left to this betrayal, and he had yet to find our just what that was. He stood facing me, a man who was meant to be the model of the Fire Nation's authority in the new world: alert, disciplined, strong, and orderly, but his appearance betrayed these values.

I looked down at my pauldron, finding the specks of blood that I'd spied out in the mirror. "Damnit," I muttered to myself, wiping at it with my thumb, finding it already dried. Just one last parting gift of Gyani.

I had an image to maintain. I couldn't be seen in such a state. I removed the pauldron, detaching it from the embroidered chest plate I wore bearing the Fire Nation's standard. I removed that promptly as well, wearing a half set of armor far worse than wearing none. Day's end was nearing anyway. I'd avoid fieldwork. I had more than enough to keep me occupied in my office anyway.

I removed my gauntlets and boots following that, setting them down in a row by the door of my bathroom. Zhorou would deal with them later.

I should take a shower, I considered. So many Slumdogs in one place, it would be a miracle if I woke up feeling in perfect health tomorrow. It was a simple matter of disrobing from there, folding my clothes and placing them by my armor that would come to be washed.

I stepped into the ceramic tub, reaching for the valve that would build up the pressure in the pipes and allow them to rise up to me. At the penthouse of the Taisho tower, it would take its time to reach me, approximately a minute or so, but at the very least, priority on heat water was sent in my direction, and so when it came down out of the nozzle, hot enough to generate steam, raining over my shoulders with the same satisfaction I was sure that farmers in the dry season would have felt, I took in the savory warmth, standing there just staring down at my feet, watching the water pool around them before draining, just attempting to get my head together once again.

The way the water formed at my feet, gathering, searching for somewhere to train to later be recycled, it called the images back to mind-the weekly cleanings of Gyani's chamber, whatever blood he'd shed in the last week being drained before his eyes as our hoses cleared out his room just to lay the foundation of what would come to be another long week for him.

Chained to the wall, he'd never get any of that water, hard as he tried to move around his chains and just lower his face enough to the stone floor to get a lick at the building moisture. He would never quite come close enough to do so.

I let myself suck in the water of the shower, thankful that it wasn't me in his shoes. A part of me wanted to pity the old man, but he'd gotten what he asked for. He'd gotten what he deserved,

I turned the water off after a few minutes when I felt the water begin to go cold. From there it was a simple matter of drying myself and donning a bathrobe before leaving the bathroom, only hesitating at the last moment to turn off the faucet that had still remained on during all this time, catching my reflection one last time, the image of me once again staring me down from beyond a fogged screen.

You still have work to do, he said to me.

I didn't allow myself to waste time in finding something to slip on over myself, knowing that the day still had yet to be over. I settled on a deep crimson road with golden fringes, figuring it would more than suffice. I spent a minute attempting to remember just where I'd acquired it, recalling soon enough that it had been a personal gift from a Fire Nation-based caravan company that occasionally made voyages across the "Wújìn de" Sea. It was too far and in between that we received imports from the homeland, but on the few occasions we did, it always proved to be worth it.

Dry, robed, the distaste of the execution behind me for the most part, I allowed myself to finally get settled in my office. Papers from this morning sat on my desk, neatly organized in vast contrast to how I'd left them scattered and disheveled this morning while scrambling to figure out how to deal with Gyani. Midafternoon, I still had the sun's light bathing my office, no need quite as of yet to turn on the gas lighting.

I never stopped being thankful that the Taisho tower rose just high enough to afford me a view over the walls. Beyond the sight of sanitarians cleaning the mess of Gyani's execution, the body hauled off, and the blight that was the slums, the vast plains and forests of the Eastern Earth Kingdom spanned endlessly. My eyes settled onto the Northwest. I knew it would be far too much in the distance to afford me the view, but something in knowing that Ba Sing Se rested just 210 miles away from us, it's great walls dwarfing our own beyond contest. I wasn't sure if the fact comforted or frightened me. The Earth Kingdom capital, just over 200 miles away. On one hand, we found ourselves on the frontlines, directly in harm's way. But on the other hand, it went to show just how low the Earth Kingdom had fallen, and how quickly this could all be over.

I reared away from the window, frightened by the prospect of falling asleep against it, a possibility that wasn't too far from the realm of reality given my exhaustion and how I frankly wouldn't mind falling asleep to such a view.

If ever there was a sight to die to.

Still alive, I pushed the notion aside, dedicated on focusing on the present rather than some distant future. Gyani's last words hung in my head. They shouldn't have after all. They were all too similar to the dying words of so many others who had met their end at the gallows. Cries of our inhumanity, our deception of the word, our impending rightful damnation, every curse and shout one could imagine. So why were Gyani's words so implanted in my mind?

Perhaps it had been that he had lost all strength in his body 3 days prior. He hung chained from the wall, slumped over. He possesses no energy to open his eyes, much less even take the food or water we offered him to keep him alive. It'd become clear that we'd pushed him too far and that he was at his end. When his condition remained the same 3 days later, today for that matter, it was decided to put him out of his misery once and for all.

And now he decides to speak, for the first time in 3 days, to utter the statement he did, so cliché and meaningless, it felt completely against his style. I couldn't understand it. He was either preaching to those who'd blindly follow their nation to the gates of Hell or those who already had every reason in the world to hate the Fire Nation but simply couldn't have cared less. So why?

"Zhorou!" I called out.

It only took 3 seconds for the 13-year-old boy to swiftly dash through the door of my office engaging in a rapid but honest bow, emulating the image of a flame with his hands with precision and speed as though his life depended on it. And I think as far as he was concerned or he believed, it did. I never made any effort to convince him of the contrary. I didn't hesitate to say I enjoyed things this way, and certainly did enjoy the diligence that arose from it.

"Yes, Captain Zar'un?" he asked, saluting and standing at attention.

He was a good kid. Undoubtedly rough around the edges and rather uptight, but he had a good heart and was certainly loyal. I had no reason to doubt that. Then again, I'd once believed Gyani loyal, so I suppose that there was no way of knowing for certain.

"My armor and clothes are in the bathroom. Have them washed and returned to me by tomorrow."

"Yes sir" he nodded, immediately setting off to the bathroom.

His parents likely were none too fond of how I was putting their son to used. He hailed from the Huǒ Shēngs, a prominent family in Taisho for their arms corporations. Naturally, they were still subsidiaries of the Meizha Corporation, responsible as being the near sole-provider of weapons for the Fire Nation Armed Forces, but the Huǒ Shēngs still had unmistakable influence. Albeit it only a distant cousin of the CEO, Zhorou's father saw it only fit that his son be in a relative position of prestige.

"Clean my helmet too!" I yell at him to where he is currently gathering the clothes I'd set down in the bathroom. "You remember where it is."

"Yes sir!" he confirmed, shortly dashing out of the bathroom with laundry in tow, directed towards the shelf with my helmet atop it, grabbing it and adding it to his load. "Will there be anything else, Captain?" he asked, his face barely peeping over the pile in his hands.

"Summon Lieutenant Zarrow to my office at once."

"Yes, sir!" he exclaimed, running out shortly after.

Zarrow, a man who I never before would have thought to question the integrity of. Gyani had been one of his men, serving under his command for over 7 years, and Zarrow had noticed nothing in the slightest.

I wasn't calling him here to reprimand him. He'd had enough of that a month ago when we finally learned that it had been Gyani who'd been working beneath our noses. I figured being forced to take charge of his old pupil's interrogation and torture had been sufficient punishment for the old veteran who was all too keen to take a liking of his men. Besides, I couldn't afford another manhunt for an officer as capable as him. Not now.

Naturally, I'd kept a keen eye on him while he did so, never certain beyond all doubt that the two hadn't conspired with one another. Over the month of nonstop interrogation, however, Zarrow had proven himself. Or, at the very least, he'd proven he wasn't stupid enough to try and stage a rescue. It was hard to know for sure, but despite the events of the last half year, I wanted to think I could at least trust this man. That didn't mean, of course, that I wouldn't be keeping a close eye on him.

So many things to worry about. I breathed out a long exhale as I looked at the documents scattered on my desk. The ones that had been building slowly over the last 6 months, everything related to the traitor within my ranks. 8 years serving as military governor of this city and never an incident like this. Even if it was an isolated occurrence, what could it have meant? What the hell was Gyani doing? Something as simple as underground trading, sneaking out information to the highest bidder, or perhaps something far more ominous, delivering information to the Earth Kingdom. Just why the hell had he done what he did?

The documents I now placed in front of me, undoing the neat piles that Zhorou had organized and likely would again once I was done here. Inventories of his quarters, transcripts of interrogations as well as questionings of his friends and associates and any witness across the inner district who even so much as recognized the name, Lee. Nothing was too unimportant

My eyes instinctively scanned once again over a session in which Gyani had been particularly vocal. If only he hadn't been so cryptic with what he said, however, we might just have been able to learn something concrete. I remembered the day well. Despite having been beat the day before to near death, forcing just a slight bit of information out of him, he'd still managed to remain sane, joking even the day presented here.

Prisoner 17: Lee Shuni/"Gyani"

Session 19

Year of the Ox

14th Day, 2nd Moon of Summer

Transcript by Pvt. Taoze

Captain Zar'un: Sorry to stop in on you so early. Hope I didn't wake you. You may be wondering why I'm here at this time.

Prisoner 17 (Lee Shuni/"Gyani"): The early bird gets the worm.

Z: (Chuckles) That's part of it. The truth is actually, that something you said yesterday had me thinking.

P: I'm afraid I forgot much of what I said yesterday.

Z: That's a shame. I'll remind you then. I'd been asking you about unauthorized visits you'd made into the slums starting as early as when you'd first joined on. We all noticed it from the getgo but assumed you may have just had a woman there you were sweet on. Wouldn't be the first time. We pushed you on it however, and you confessed that you had been meeting with somebody there.

P: I- (Prisoner 17 goes silent)

Z: Starting to remember? Don't be so hard on yourself. We went particularly rough on you yesterday. Not many people would have lasted as long as you did. So who did you meet?

P: I've already said too much.

Z: Make this easy on yourself. We're more than happy to have a repeat of yesterday. That goes double for me. Make this easier for you.

P: I won't talk.

Z: Very well.

-Prisoner 17 is waterboarded for 1 minute, 22 seconds.

Z: You know it's only going to get worse from here.

P: I won't say anything

Z: Continue.

-Prisoner 17 is waterboarded for 2 minutes, 43 seconds.

Z: This can all be over now. Just talk.

P: I won't.

-Prisoner 17 is waterboarded for 3 minutes, 51 seconds, and burned at the soles of his feet for 4 minutes, 34 seconds

P: I-I-.

Z: In words, please.

P: (Spits) I can do this all day.

-Prisoner 17 is burned on the back for 5 minutes, 16 seconds. Prisoner 17's feet are boiled for 7 minutes, 43 seconds. Prisoner 17's toenails are removed, and Prisoner 17's right pinky toe is removed. Prisoner 17's right hand is crushed.

P: Stop. Please. Please, just stop. It was a gang member.

Z: Which gang?

P: The Rats.

Z: Why?

P: They-they promised to look after- (Silence)

Z: Look after what?

P: N-no. I'm done talking.

Z: Look after what, damnit?!

P: Look after something that's bigger than you or me.

Z: And what's that?

P: The future.

Z: The future for who? For what?

P: For you. For me. This city. This Kingdom. This word. Everything.

Z: Stop talking in riddles, old man. What were you having them look after?

P: I've given you your answer. If you cannot understand, then that's your own mistake.

Z: Who did you talk to? Tell me!

P: I've said my piece.

Z: We'll see about that.

-Prisoner 17 is burned on his chest for 13 minutes, 36 seconds before passing out.

Session Concluded

The future, I mused to myself, wondering just what it is he had meant.

The door opened proceeding a short knock that I permitted to be answered. It was Zhorou again. "Lieutenant Zarrow is here, sir."

"Let him in."

Zhorou nodded and retreated back inside, followed soon by the door opening once again with Zarrow in the space that Zhorou had stood in just a few seconds ago.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" he asked. He was nervous, such apparent in his voice alone. Despite being a veteran, having faced actual combat experience, he still managed to feel a fear and respect for the chain of command. I'd been surprised upon his willingness to return from hell perfectly content to take orders from one who had less experience than himself. Perhaps he recognized the value of my post was not one of warfare. I didn't expect that on the field, he'd feel the same willingness to follow my orders.

I did not hold that against him.

"That's why I summoned you, yes. Come in."

He did so, entering with a bow as the door closed behind him by Zhorou's hands.

"Take a seat," I ordered Zarrow, which he promptly did wordlessly, proceeding ahead to place himself in the chair across from me, the desk between us and who was on which side a clear enough indicator of who had authority over who.

A silent state dominated the air between us for a few moments as he settled in. He likely didn't know if I expected him to speak first, but he was too afraid to ask, so he just sat there as I considered just how to begin.

"Gyani was executed today," I stated.

He nodded. "I know."

"Were you present?"

His head lowered. I already knew the answer and I was quite certain that he was aware I did.

I knew Lieutenant Zarrow. As it had been me who'd put in the request for him after he'd requested to be transferred to a quiet station after a 6-year tour, I knew almost all there was to know. I had access to his records, had conducted interviews with him and his comrades, and all that was left unknown to me was that which he kept in his own mind. But save that, he was an open book. I knew how he treated his men. He was the stereotypical "caring commander." He led by example, put his life in danger to protect his comrades, but notwithstanding, followed orders even if by unorthodox means. Despite his tactics, he had a more than satisfactory record of fulfilling his objective with minimal casualties. He had proven to be a fine addition to Taisho's personnel, but sometimes, this being one example, his care for those under his command proved an issue.

"No."

I figured as much. I didn't bother asking why as I already knew the answer. Gyani was an enemy for the Fire Nation, but that had only been the truth we knew for the last month. Some of us were quicker to accept it. Others, those closer to the man, perhaps, still remembered him as Lee, Shuni, corporal of the Fire Nation Army, Taisho Defense Garrison. I chose to drop the subject, seeing no need to beat a dead ostrich horse.

That wasn't what I called him here for anyway. I wanted to get together the last details I had at my disposal. There was work to be done and I had to cover all bases first.

"Gyani. He went quiet 3 days ago and didn't speak since then. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. For the most part."

"For the most part?" I questioned him, wondering if he truly intended on leaving out a detail, knowing full and well that I was after anything or even slight import.

"Upon us telling him of his execution, he mumbled something. The Transcriber didn't capture the words, but I believe it was a prayer."

"You believe it was a prayer?"

"It was too quiet to hear for certain, but he mentioned the name, 'Raava.'

I nodded. "Likely some spirit." It was likely an unimportant detail, but anything that pertained to Gyani was now a priority, no matter how minor it seemed, no matter how deep I needed to dig into his personal life or beliefs. "But I want no stone left unturned. I want you to do research on this "Raava" and bring me a full report on what you learn by the end of the week."

"Yes, sir."

And there was the other matter. The one I'd immediately begun looking into on the wake of "Session 19"—the deal I had arranged, the filthy agreement I'd forged.

Just a means to an end, I attempted to convince myself.

"And did the exchange take place?"

"Yes, Captain. They received the supplies, old equipment going first."

"Good. Were our stores affected?"

"Minimally."

I nod. "I want a report on the exchange by the end of the day."

"Yes, sir," he said, already standing up despite me not having given him leave to go. Not quite yet. "Is there anything more, Captain?"

"Yes, Lieutenant. There is. I need you to understand that I hold you accountable for what transpired."

He had grown stiff again now that the subject of the meeting had turned to his failures once again. He had thought the subject avoided when I switched the topic to what he had yet to do, the presence of work ahead of him enough to assure him that I wasn't done with him just yet. For the most part, it had been settled, but there was one final key point I needed to get across.

"I know sir. I take full responsibility for the actions of Corporal Lee Shu-"

"Gyani, Lieutenant Zarrow," I corrected him. And so such was the matter that needed correcting. "The soldier under your command, Lee Shuni, corporal of the Fire Nation, resident of Yu Dao, he doesn't exist. He never did. You were deceived by him, and as was I. I was no less tricked than you were, but as your subordinate, he was under your command."

"I understand, sir. My loyalty is to my nation. I would never work alongside an enemy of the Fire Nation and Fire Lord Azulon. My loyalty is to my men, but first and foremost, it is to my Nation, my Fire Lord, and to my commanding officer."

A horribly generic answer, drilled into his head from early days at the academy, I was sure. I didn't doubt that he meant them, but he still thought I was after a pitch-perfect response. That wasn't what assurance meant to me. Assurance wasn't the ability to recall an oath from the top of your head. Assurance was convincing me that the same mistake would never occur again.

"Your loyalty is not what is being questioned, but your competence. A spy resided within our ranks for 7 years. We have no idea how long he's been the enemy nor the extent of the damage he's done. I need to know that this will never happen again, that you will never again allow an enemy threat to breach our defenses.

"It won't, sir. I swear on my honor."

Honor. That's what being of the Fire Nation was about after all-one's honor. One's ability to bring renown to themselves and to their family. An oath on honor was as good as an oath on one's life. It wasn't honor I was interested in however, but results. Honor could take one only so far. Diligence, intelligence, focus—those were what won the day.

"I'm happy to hear that. You're dismissed, Lieutenant Zarrow."

And so he nodded, bowing to me once more before departing through the door that opened as he approached, very clearly relieved that I was done with him for the moment.

We're far from done with anything. We still know so little. The man was dead, but what of his influence? Even a short man can cast a long shadow. So what of him? Behind how many corners did the echo of his shadow still lurk, and what did it have in store for Taisho?

The future.

I turned my head to face the outside world once again, catching the edge of the slums in my sight where the Liángshí Road met the outer wall. Enemies in the slums too. I scoffed. Never had I thought that our own shield would begin fighting back.

I thought back on the deal I'd made, by no means a clean one. Dealing with gangs. So I'd fallen this low, huh?

No. I'm doing what has to be done. I'm a soldier. And when a soldier fights in the muck, he gets his hands dirty.