This city, this vast bastion of sin, is no place to tread unaccompanied.
Without the Master's radiant guidance, the millions dwelling within Ba Sing Se's towering walls remain shackled to unseen forces, ensnared by the malevolent spirits that haunt its shadowed corridors. The thought alone, that so many live entombed in spiritual darkness and cut off from the Master's boundless love, caused her heart to ache with quiet anguish.
Every turn of the labyrinthine streets posed a trial, danger cloaked in silence, menace crouched behind pleasantries. She could not still the compulsion to glance behind, ever wary that the city's watchful gloom might be tailing her steps, seeking to thwart the Master's divine design. For in the twisting alleys of the Lower Ring, even the most steadfast disciple risks faltering beneath the weight of this corrupted world.
And yet, amidst the sorrow, she cherished the memory of the locals who had aided her. Simple gestures, kind eyes, faces seared into her memory like sacred icons. Any soul willing to help a stranger bore the spark of worthiness. They too should be welcomed into the Master's embrace, freed from worldly fetters and reshaped into another addition to his ever-growing and compassionate flock.
The vision of standing among them once more, sharing the Master's sacred teachings with newfound brethren, breathed fresh fire into her resolve. For when the great walls of Ba Sing Se finally crumble beneath the Master's transcendent glory, its people will rejoice, basking in the eternal light and knowing at last the joy of true liberation.
Huo halted mid-stride upon the lifeless stone path, her eyes distant. Memory struck vividly, remembering the cruelty inflicted upon her friends who had laid down their lives in heralding the Master's coming reign. She has already been taught that in the righteous path to bring more into his light, many of them will suffer from those they are meant to save.
It is unfair.
It is unjust.
All the Acolytes of the Eternal Balance long for is to bring forth an eternal era of serene harmony, to gather the weary and lost beneath the Master's sanctuary. Why then, do the people of this fractured world cling so tightly to their sins, scorning salvation? Worse still, her brothers and sisters suffer relentless persecution simply for lifting their hearts in veneration. The minds of their tormentors remain tragically sealed, rejecting the very teachings that could shatter their chains and lift them toward grace.
Still, Huo pressed forward, carried by the enduring strength of her belief. Though many reject the Master's kingdom, she held to the hope that his teachings, timeless and divine, would one day soften every hardened heart who opposes him. For the Master, the Shepherd of all souls, is above all things merciful, patient, and kind.
She lifted her gaze to the night sky, where stars and moon cast their gentle light, moving in perfect harmony beneath the Master's divine will. In their silent dance, she found solace, a quiet assurance that even the heavens obey his purpose, guiding her steps toward a righteous end.
As she reflected on Ba Sing Se, this vast and seemingly immovable fortress of stone and silence, she came to a humbling truth. Here, among its towering walls and hidden courtyards, her people might yet prosper. In this boundless sea of worldly sin, where so few settlements bear the Master's sacred banners, even one as unworthy as she could see the necessity to reshape this city into the Master's image. To let his curating hands mold its soul, and fold it into the tapestry of the Heavenly Kingdom where the Acolytes of San Bao can exercise the three noble virtues without persecution.
That final thought further galvanized Huo's resolve, remembering that the success of this mission does not solely dictate her own honor. Wherever her kind tread, they are reviled for clinging to truth. Idolaters of beasts, worshippers of spirits, and the worst of all, devotees of the fallible Avatars strive to erase the Master's chosen. Yet his faithful raise their voices in reverent praise, heralding a future of Eternal Balance, where hunger, pain, and despair dissolve, replaced by undying serenity.
Beneath the frayed brown cloak, Huo clutched the scroll more tightly. It bore the Master's own words and his trust, given to one so undeserving. Delivering it to the faithful hidden in the city's depths is her sacred duty, and upon its success might hinge the fate of Ba Sing Se itself. She longed for the day when the millions here, freed from the tyrannical overlords at last, would cast aside their chains and rush into the Master's welcoming embrace, their joy would surely be chorus of rebirth echoing through every alley and home. With even more followers of the Master's truth, they shall further the Eternal Balances upon even more distant lands and untouched people.
With this sacred thought enkindling her spirit, Huo reaffirmed her purpose. In her trembling hands held not mere parchment, but a vessel of salvation and the Master's will. All of which inscribed and entrusted to her.
It is more precious to her than life itself.
And yet, it pained her deeply to suspend her prior mission. Were it not for her flawed command and short-sightedness, the two daughters of Akahana might already be basking in the Master's radiant presence, their hearts set alight by his divine wisdom. A bitter shame, for the Master is a merciful man, welcoming all into his fold no matter the stain of their sins. The weight of her failure bore heavier still with the thought that the sisters might even have been ordained as apostles themselves, sacred vessels through which the Master's teachings could reach the deluded masses of Kyoshi Island and free them from their misguided reverence of the Avatar.
Huo swore to atone this as well. For every acolyte, their highest calling is to exalt the Master's glory and usher more souls into his celestial fold. After all, the Eternal Balance is the ultimate truth, an immutable force destined to flourish with the dawning of the Heavenly Kingdom.
Upon emerging from an alleyway, one of countless narrow arteries in the Lower Ring, she laid eyes on the unassuming building nestled amid a graveyard of abandoned shops. By its doorway hung a simple lantern, marked with the modest emblem of a fish symbol.
She exhaled with quiet relief, a fitting balm for aching legs. Though cloaked in decay, its moss-ridden rooftiles and sagging walls whispering of time's cruelty, and the tea house stood like a flickering candle in a city besieged by vice and oppression. And such humble refuges often harbored the most faithful. For even in shadows, the Master's light endured. Within these unremarkable walls, those devoted to the Eternal Balance and the Master's three noble virtues could gather, unseen by the unworthy.
"By the Master's will, at last," she whispered. At least her missteps had not wholly stifled the Eternal Balance's inexorable spread. In that moment, the deaths of her three companions no longer felt meaningless.
Surveying the nearly empty street, where only an aged sweeper moved in slow, solitary rhythm, Huo deemed it safe to step into the open. Like a rat stealing from its hole, she kept low, swathed in a long brown cloak that veiled her from head to foot. The fabric masked the vibrant red of her usual garb, concealing all but the forward sliver of her face. A troubling thought crept in. Perhaps the contact she was meant to meet wouldn't even recognize her.
Still, she pressed forward, crossing the moonlit path with measured steps, avoiding the gaze of the old man. She ascended the wooden porch and pushed open the weathered door, slipping into the tea house. A pungent odor greeted her at once with an earthy, sour scent that spoke of rotting timber and disrepair.
Unlike most shops, Hong Xiuquan Teahouse bore none of the warmth or welcome expected of such establishments. Its walls were cracked and molting, paper lanterns riddled with holes and filled with the carcasses of scorched moths. Only five patrons occupied the cramped hall, all appearing to be laborers accustomed to nocturnal toil.
Yet such surroundings mattered little. The Master's grace could sanctify even the most dilapidated sanctum. His acolytes, embodiments of Truthfulness, Benevolence, and Forbearance, lived simply. Which is in stark contrast to the decadent nobles who hoarded luxury and prestige. Any apostle chosen to lead the local faithful would dwell in humble austerity, reflecting the purity of their calling.
Huo paused, troubled. Narlo had neglected to specify who she was meant to meet. Her eyes wandered to the shopkeeper, pondering if he might be the one? Perhaps a glimpse of the parchment, flashed subtly, would be enough to signal her intent.
Beneath her robes lay the sacred letter. If nothing else, she could strike up casual conversation, feigning curiosity while discreetly displaying the scroll. The shopkeeper seemed the logical place to begin.
Moving with quiet resolve along the frayed carpet, she adjusted her hood to obscure most of the face. Though the other patrons kept their heads bowed, seemingly absorbed in tea or thought, she could feel their silent awareness. Regardless of what lay ahead, she trusted the Master's light to guide and shield her.
She clung to the hope of warm tea, a sense of nearing the end. If fate is kind, the shopkeeper would be the vessel through which this journey would finally find resolution.
"I've been expecting you."
Huo froze. There is a sixth patron. A woman's voice, low and firm, unmistakably directed at her. The figure rose from behind the Firebender, precisely in the blind spot.
Panic stirred in her chest. She is already halfway to the counter, so close to her imagined goal. Any interruption now could imperil the Master's design. Yet the shopkeeper hadn't so much as blinked. Perhaps it would do no harm to turn around. This is Ba Sing Se, after all. Causing trouble in public, even in forgotten corners like this, is an invitation to a quiet and swift demise.
She turned, beholding a presence she somehow had not noticed before. Of all the patrons, this figure should have stood out the most. Draped in a voluminous, dark veil cascading from a wide cone-shaped straw hat down to the floor, the woman is entirely shrouded. Not a single feature reveals her identity.
"I know why you're here," the veiled figure intoned. She placed a few copper coins beside her untouched cup of cold oolong and moved toward the exit.
She offered no further explanation, words hanging like incense in the stale air.
"Wait, where are you—"
Huo faltered, voice weak with indecision. Could this be the emissary? Or even the apostle herself? Her heart thudded against her ribs, a wild rhythm of awe and fear.
Trying not to seem frantic, she hurried after the woman. By the time she stepped back into the cool night, the figure had already covered considerable ground.
Huo swept past the old sweeper, with swift steps but controlled. As she passed, the old man cleared his throat and coughed. Three sharp, deliberate bursts, far too loud for her liking.
...
Throughout the entire ordeal, Huo followed the veiled figure at a measured distance, her steps cautious as they ventured deeper into an unfamiliar quarter of the city. All around them lay the ruins of abandoned homes, mute testaments to the chaos that had erupted more than two decades ago, and whose scars had yet to heal. To Huo, this wasteland is a fitting refuge for the faithful, a secret sanctuary for those committed to bringing Ba Sing Se into the Master's benevolent embrace. Aside from the occasional prowling dog or hissing alley cat, the quarter appeared utterly devoid of life.
Yet the crumbling remnants of these dwellings only steeled her resolve. Even under the veil of night, the desolation cried out of misrule and neglect, a direct consequence of corrupt governance and spiritual blindness. The Firebender's certainty only deepened. Once the Master seized the reins of Ba Sing Se, even the most squalid of dwellings would be transfigured into sanctuaries of purpose and order. The Eternal Balance would prevail, and the downtrodden would serve a greater purpose in manifesting his glory across more lands.
"Are we there yet?" Huo asked, her voice low but brimming with anxious determination.
The silence that followed was long, almost funereal. She couldn't tell if it was contemplative or condescending. Though the Master taught that all followers should be treated as brothers and sisters in truth, it is evident that trust took time, and familiarity did not spring from shared doctrine alone.
"Almost," the veiled woman finally replied. Although a calm voice, it felt unreadable.
They entered a lone structure nestled among the detritus of the old district. Though ravaged by time and anarchy, the building retained a kind of solemnity. Fallen tables lay before broken altars, scattered ancestral tablets half-buried in dust, all mute casualties of a forgotten uprising. But Huo paid them no mind. Her heart, enthralled by the vision of the Master's coming kingdom, failed to recognize the sculptures of deified Avatars and spirits. Even the altar at the far end, its imagery blatant in its apostasy, initially escaped her notice.
Then the veiled figure struck a flint and lit three incense sticks, placing them reverently in a ceramic urn. Huo frowned. The ritual is strange to her, bordering on sacrilegious. The Master's rites are modest and austere, composed of whispered prayers and humble praise, never the extravagance of incense or idols.
As the haze of the incense brightened the room slightly, Huo's eyes widened. Behind the now apparent altar stood a stone effigy of a serene woman, her forehead marked by a downward-facing arrow. Judging by the figure's shape, the silent sculpture is meditating.
"W-where are we?" Huo demanded, alarm flaring in her chest. "Why have you defiled the Master's will by bringing me to such an abominable place?"
There is no truth but the Master. The world, blind and adrift, has forsaken common sense, turning instead to the worship of beasts, spirits, and even mortal men. In this age of delusion, the Acolytes of San Bao stand resolute, devoted to spreading the Master's light so that it may burn away the foul lies chaining the hearts of people across all lands.
That is why Huo is stunned. No, she is appalled to find herself inside a temple. A profane place, steeped in the stench of falsehood. Here, the misguided gather to bow before a lifeless statue of stone, drowning themselves in empty rituals and praying for deliverance that will never come.
Yet what shakes her more is not the place itself, but the one that led her here. Why would a fellow follower of the Master's truth, someone she trusted, bring her to such defiled ground? This is a place the Master would surely deem unworthy of his incoming Heavenly Kingdom.
The veiled figure broke the silence. "I used to wonder why monks feared bloodshed," she murmured. "For all their mastery to manipulate the very air around us, they chose the stillness of peace and abhor all taking of lives. It always struck me as ironic, as my mother would scold me for even carrying a blade into temple grounds, until she didn't mind."
Huo's grip tightened on the sacred parchment hidden beneath her robe, summoning what courage remained. But before she could voice her protest, the figure lunged with a curved blade slicing out from the curtain of veils.
The blow missed Huo's throat by mere inches but grazed her chest, sending a flash of pain through her body. The Firebender gasped, her training forcing her into a defensive crouch.
"Heathen! Idolator!" she spat, voice filled with fury. "I carry nothing of value. Striking a stranger without provocation is the height of madness!"
This is no simple robbery. The veiled woman had deceived her, feigning allegiance to the Master only to lure her into this pit of blasphemy. And worse, this shrine wasn't dedicated to just any false idol. It honors Yang Chen, a trickster in the eyes of all the faithful. For it is this nun who deluded many in the Earth Kingdom, turning thousands on this war-torn land from potentially accepting the Master's teachings.
"I seek no trinkets, renegade," the veiled figure replied. "And you will not leave this place alive." With a flick of her hand, she hurled a throwing knife. Huo dodged nimbly, but the blade struck a rope above, releasing a cluster of furniture that tumbled down and barricaded the entrance door.
There was no time to think. The assassin charged, curved blade carving the air with practiced ferocity. Huo responded with bursts of fire launched from her free hand, the other arm clutched protectively around the precious scroll. Though agile, she was hindered, movements less fluid and a stance off-balance.
She cried out as a knife was shot into her left leg, stumbling over a fallen tablet. It almost felt as if these stray ancestorial tablets are intentionally plotting against her.
The veiled woman again advanced like a shadow made flesh, relentless in her pursuit. But Huo summoned another sudden explosion of flame, forcing the attacker back. Panting and wounded, the Firebender limped toward the barricaded door. But her escape was short-lived. More knives found their mark, piercing the other leg, driving her to the knees. Before she could recover, the figure was upon her, gripping both arms, striking with brutal precision until Huo was disarmed and paralyzed.
A blade now kissed the side of the acolyte's neck. The precise design of the weapon, those wave-like patterns on the steel, immediately struck Huo with a sense of familiarity.
"How does it feel?" the veiled woman whispered, even more venomous. "To suffer at the hands of a stranger, though you've never wronged them?"
Huo glared defiantly, realizing who is behind the veil. "Do not feign ignorance, unrepentant Kyoshi Warrior. I know who you are! It is your doing. Your blade that killed my friend. For that, I will—"
"You will what?" hissed the veiled assassin, pressing the blade tighter. "Aggressors shouldn't be the ones mourning their casualties. Had your friends not chosen violence, they would still breathe. It was the herdsmen, not me, who felled them."
At last, the woman drew back her veil. Pale features emerged from the shadow, crimson streaks beneath both eyes with a gaze burning with quiet fury.
"Let's dispense with the pretenses. You know me, so answer plainly who you are? And who is the schemer that sent you?"
Huo, bloodied but unbroken, lifted her chin in defiance. No humiliation, no torment could break her loyalty. Especially not to a blasphemer, who is also an idolator that venerates the fallible Avatar named Kyoshi.
"It is beneath you to question my Master's will!" Huo spat with venom, her disgust palpable. "Your people are blind and misguided, desperate for enlightenment and guidance. All we sought was to safely escort you and your sister to our esteemed Master as honored guests. It was for your own benefit!"
"Senile," Mayumi retorted coldly, her words sharp as ice. "Even the most barbaric savages would not surrender to such illogical delusions." She cast a scornful glance at the idea of the so-called Benevolent Master, dripping with disdain for those foolish enough to place their trust in such a figure. "Reflect on our last encounter. My sister and I made it abundantly clear that we have no intent to pay homage to whoever you chose to serve. Yet, the utter insistence of you four were indeed irritating. All of this, the needless deaths of your companions, what was it all for?"
Huo's teeth clenched with an intensity born of indignation, refusing to endure such insolence from a lowly idolator.
"You fail to comprehend," she pressed on, voice filled with an unsettling certainty. "You and your sister have been deceived, led astray by those who are too ignorant to understand our righteous cause. My Master desires only the best for this world, and his divine wisdom will guide it toward a brighter future. Bringing you both before him is but one part of his grand, ingenious plan to save your people. We intend no harm, yet you resist, causing the deaths of my friends. You must reflect deeply on your actions, for it is you who are in the wrong."
The blade bit deeper into Huo's skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Yet, the acolyte remained steadfast, not a trace of fear in her eyes. For her, faith is a shield, unbreakable and impervious to the cold steel of swords or the sharp thrusts of spears.
In essence, faith is not a thing that can be shattered by mere weapons.
"You vex me," Mayumi sneered, her voice a blade in its own right. "Your delusions, your empty rhetoric, the noble words you dress up as virtuous. In reality, they are no different from the lies of marauders and thieves. Has your so-called Master never shown you the horrors his peon inflicted on the innocent? In his name, no less? I have seen it with my own eyes. Have you ever—"
"No!" Huo snapped, raw with outrage. "The Master is flawless! He would never condone harm to the innocent! Cease this blasphemy and slander at once!"
Ignorance is indeed a venomous poison, one that blinds its victim to truth. And youthful naivety is often the most potent strain.
"Is that so?" Mayumi mocked. "Then it seems we have wildly different definitions of innocent. If I were to slay a songbird perched upon a branch, would you deem such an act righteous simply because it fits your narrow view of the world? Perhaps you are using your devotion as a convenient excuse for immorality, or perhaps you are too blind to see the absurdity in everything you so fervently try to defend. Neither trait is worthy of admiration."
Huo's resolve hardened as she faced the slander against her sacred order. Her Master's honor demanded defense, no matter the cost. But in her darkest hour, a flicker of recollection sparked within her. No acolyte could ascend to the Master's Heavenly Kingdom without enduring trials far beyond the reach of steel and fire. It is not just the swords and spears of the world she had to face, but the doubts and deceptions that sought to lead the faithful astray. This, she realized, must be her trial to overcome. For the power of faith triumphs all doubt.
"I am certain," she said with an unwavering voice. "That the Master does not wish to bring harm to you or your people. He is a benevolent man, with grand designs for the world. Even your people will prosper when the Eternal Balance is finally realized."
"And how does any of that concern us?" Mayumi pressed, her disdain for Huo's feeble words becoming stronger. "You were not there when one of your fallen friends nearly killed someone dear to me. Do not waste my time with these lofty ideals, as such words have no place in the harsh realities of the world. I will never bow to some faceless figure constructed by the whims of you and your blind followers." She noticed Huo's clenched fists, but with those arms disabled by Chi-blocking, no flame would spring forth. Tired of this endless back-and-forth, the Kyoshi Warrior grew weary of the cultist's evasions and demanded the truth. Who is their Master? What is this 'Eternal Balance' and why does it involve such an insignificant island?
But in the end, a warrior's strength alone is not enough to crack the resolve of those who do not fear death. Honing the skills of wielding a blade doesn't style herself as a good interrogator either. Furthermore, Huo is a zealot who welcomes death as a means to bolster her faith and conviction. Such an enemy, Mayumi realized, could not be defeated through martial prowess.
"I will not repeat the mistakes of the past," Mayumi spoke darkly, her voice edged with cold resolution. "Time spent with steppe people has shown me the necessity of decisiveness. Perhaps I haven't been harsh enough with those who would harm my sister."
Even the weakest follower of the Eternal Balance, whether a strict practitioner of the three noble virtues or a humble devotee, would never yield to those who persecuted them. And it is this conviction that gave Huo's faith an impenetrable strength. For all righteous aspirants would desperately gaze their eyes to the heavens, seeking to inherit the incoming Heavenly Kingdom that the Master shall build.
Finally, Huo's indignation broke free, crying out with a fury unlike any before.
"You Kyoshi Warriors are all the same!" she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. The suddenness of her outburst took Mayumi by surprise, forcing the warrior to tighten the blade. "Always so resistant, and for what? How long will you hide behind your painted faces, unable to see that everything me and my friends did was for your own good? All we wanted, what we all wanted, was to venerate the Master and help the whole world understand the truth. You Kyoshi Warriors should have known by now that your elders and parents have deluded you with the false worship of Kyoshi instead of the Master. With your skills, metal fans and dresses, you all could have continue your existence as dancers who can have the honor of pleasing the Master in his presence. Happiness and joy would have been claimed by you while bathing in the Master's sanctuary! If it weren't for that bloodthirsty monster, Akahana, we would have already saved your island and all the Kyoshi Warriors! We are trying to help you!"
Patience, Mayumi realized, is running thin. Foolishness has no limits, and those who are incapable of reason are not worth reasoning with. Not only had this deluded zealot insulted the traditions of her people, but she had also dared to slander the matron of her village, her mother.
"Is this the best you can muster?" Mayumi sneered again with absolute contempt. "You came here, trying to force your will upon strangers you've never even met, all for the sake of servitude. I have never encountered anyone so utterly obtuse and shameless, so determined to harass those who simply wish to live their lives in peace."
"It is not your place to question my Master's will! I will not stop until you and your people embrace the Master's teachings!" Huo declared, eyes blazing with conviction. "We are the followers of the Eternal Balance, the righteous Acolytes of San Bao. Saving your island from the false worship of the Avatar is for your own good!"
A silent fury brewed within Mayumi. Here, in this forgotten slum of the Lower Ring, the presence of a single corpse within an abandoned temple would not even rouse the city guards.
"Bold final words," Mayumi said.
Just as her blade arched forward to silence this blasphemous voice for good, a violent tremor cracked through the door. An eruption, no, Earthbending, shattered her makeshift barricade like clay before a hammer.
Shouts rang out. Screams followed, wild, frenzied and unintelligible.
Mayumi froze for a breath, then tightened her grip on the hilt. Something in that chaos felt... familiar.
She swiftly veiled her face, knowing well the price of recognition. A blunt disc of hardened earth burst soon through the settling dust. She dodged sideways, barely a whisper off the mark. Another flew, this time aimed with force but only to be knocked away by the flat of her sword.
Then they came.
A torrent of bodies, men draped in ragged hoods rushed into the temple like a flood of madness given form. Mayumi moved quickly, blade dancing in wide arcs to keep the nearest zealots at bay.
"Unhand the Master's messenger!" one of them howled.
She plunged her sword into the gut of a man wielding a rusted axe, then turned swiftly to sever the fingers of another who lunged at her with a rotten tree branch. They collapsed around her, but more came.
Some tripped over ancestral tablets scattered across the floor, but the sheer mass of them quickly filled the temple's vast hall, forcing Mayumi to retreat step by step.
"Back off!" she roared. With one precise slash, she disarmed two, then spun into a wide horizontal strike, cleanly severing the hands of those too slow to recoil. Their shrieks were drowned by the din of zealous fury filled chants, shouts, and calls for martyrdom.
There are perhaps more than two hundred. Mayumi couldn't count precisely, only estimate from the thunder of feet and the weight of bodies pressing in. Among them, two stood apart, clad in garments that mimicked silk. though cheap imitations which lacks the artistry of true Ba Sing Se tailoring.
"Unrepentant idolator!" bellowed one, raising a chunk of stone with trembling arms. "To harm the Master's messenger is to assault the Master himself!" He turned to the growing throng. "Believers of the Eternal Balance! Brothers of the three noble virtues! Seize this wretch! Let her beg for the Master's mercy!"
A roar answered him. Then another voice pierced through the uproar, a shrill, fanatical screech that raised hairs on the back of Mayumi's neck.
"The Master rewards all who die for the righteous cause!" cried a bony youth standing atop a broken altar. "Those who fall shall ascend to the highest seat in the Heavenly Kingdom! Why fear death? Strike!"
A wedge of thirty charged. The rest sealed off the exits, forming a wall of flesh and madness.
Axes. Clubs. Crude swords. All swung with reckless abandon toward the veiled warrior.
Mayumi met their offer of salvation with steel.
"Die!" screamed one, charging with a wide swing. But Mayumi ducked low, drove forward and slashed upward, maiming his shoulder in one clean stroke. The weapon clattered from his grip.
Mayumi expected hesitation from those nearby, but there was none. They came on, shouting and howling, as if pain meant nothing.
She fought like a whirlwind. Slashing, stepping, spinning, striking. Her blade bit through flesh with clinical precision. One after another, they fell. Some losing fingers, some hands, some their very ability to walk.
But they didn't stop.
They never stopped.
Even wounded, they pressed forward. Crawling. Kicking. Swinging with broken arms and shattered bones. One man, both arms limp and useless, hurled himself forward in an attempt to bite her leg. Another with a broken femur dragged himself by his elbows, mouth foaming with the words of devotion.
They did not fear death or the damage to their mortal shells. They sought it, offering their broken and bloodied bodies as testament to their faith in this so-called Eternal Balance. All of which may be their will to defy the world who said they would fall.
One approached her from behind. She swiftly exploited his reckless attack, grabbing his arm and flinging the acolyte into a broken Air Nomad statue. Yet like a rabid dog, he recovered, blood dripping from the forehead as he let out a guttural roar, more beast than man. He lunged again, only to be stabbed in the knee by Mayumi's incoming blade. It slowed him, but not nearly enough.
Before Mayumi could swing again to finish him off, three more zealots charged. They swung their crudely forged weapons in unison, forcing the Kyoshi Warrior to parry all three strikes before slicing across their waists in a sweeping counterattack. Another earthen disc hurtled toward her. She ducked and rolled to avoid it, realizing the two Earthbending leaders were still at large, galvanizing the mob with howling proclamations of divine fury.
These weren't fighters, they are mere thralls as Mayumi would like to call. But the incredible pain tolerance and sheer number is more than enough to make up for their malnourished bodies. Hoping to sow discord, she flung two metal stars into the crowd. One grazed one of the two Earthbending foremen, the other embedded in the chest of a nearby zealot.
A childlike scream erupted, unmistakable pain from someone unseasoned in combat. One of the Earthbenders hadn't endured such agony before.
"Stop that witch in the name of the Master!" the uninjured leader bellowed. "Protect the Master's chosen!"
Thralls crowded around them, forming a wall of flesh to shield the duo with no hesitation. All of them willingly offered their bodies to block Mayumi's projectiles, fully aware of what it might cost them.
Clearly this mass of zealots applies greater importance in certain members amongst their ranks. But Mayumi cursed under her breath, realizing the swarmed entrance offers no escape.
"You are completely outwitted!" one of the Earthbending foremen sneered. "Submit to the Master's will and beg for forgiveness!"
Mayumi stood with her back to the cracked pedestal of an ancient Yang Chen statue, its once-regal features worn smooth by time and neglect. Dust clung to its folds like forgotten prayers, offering no sanctuary and only the weight of judgment. All around her, shadows pressed in, taking the shapes of men and women twisted by devotion, growling and hissing like feral animals driven by blood and belief. Their eyes glimmered with madness, and their hands clenched around crude weapons that had tasted flesh.
She tightened the grip on her own blade, now heavy with blood and sweat. Though her breaths came shallow and both legs ached, her stance remained firm.
But then she remembered Huo, the paralyzed Firebender still trying to crawl away. In a sudden and desperate move, Mayumi dashed toward her and pressed the treasured blade against Huo's neck.
It was a vicious gambit. Mayumi promised herself if she survived this, she'd never take a risk like this again.
"One more step and she dies!" Mayumi barked.
The crowd faltered, though a few dared inch closer. In response, she slashed a nearby acolyte's hand clean off and drew fresh blood from Huo's neck.
"For the Eternal—"
Another acolyte lunged. Mayumi slashed his legs down without hesitation, extinguishing all doubts about her resolve.
"She means more to you than I do," she snarled to the massive mob. "Clear me a path. Now!"
Whatever the horde believed didn't matter. The two Earthbending leaders hesitated. Huo, after all, is no mere zealot. She is the Master's messenger. Losing her would be a blow not just to morale, but to their movement's legitimacy. Reluctantly, they ordered the path cleared. The thralls obeyed with visible resentment.
"Accursed, wretched, unforgivable!" one of the Earthbenders spat. "How dare a mud-born like you mistreat a Master's chosen! Idolators like you deserve to burn in the inferno, denied the Heavenly Kingdom!"
"No!" Huo shouted, surprising both sides. "We need her alive! She may yet serve the Master as a righteous warrior who found renewed purpose in fighting for the Eternal Balance."
"Don't speak as if I envy you, obtuse moron," Mayumi spat back.
Still using Huo as a hostage, Mayumi carefully navigated the path through the horde, wary of every movement. Even the two Earthbenders continued barking orders for her surrender, but no one dared attack while Huo's life hung in the balance.
"Surrender!" Huo insisted, unmoved by the blade at her throat. "The Master is righteous and merciful. You can still be saved. Your talents could serve the Eternal Balance, something greater than whatever swindling life you left behind."
"I'll kill you before I entertain such lunacy," Mayumi growled. "Whatever make-believe you worship, I want no part of it. If I have to kill every last one of your kind to keep my sister safe, I will."
But she is just one woman, outnumbered and encircled completely. In the dead of night, help would not come. Not in this forsaken corner of the Lower Ring, where even stray animals knew better than to wander here to grace this meagre gathering.
Yet the boisterous zealots, so certain in their Master's power, had made a fatal error. They have forgotten the other shadows of Ba Sing Se, foolishly thinking that a gathering of hundreds and acting like beasts could not go unnoticed. Even the deaf could sense their blatant shirking of city curfew,
"Think wisely!" Huo urged again. "The Master is the truth! You and your people have a place in his Kingdom despite your wretched ways! Abandon the false veneration of Kyoshi so that you too can be embraced by him." There wasn't an immediate response, so the Firebender pressed further. "The choice is so clear, true purpose and meaning awaits for those in service of the Master, what more is there is ask? Are you so dense and stubborn that a generous offer like this cannot entice you? The Master's righteous war against evil is just, and will free Ba Sing Se from the shackles of servitude! Think about it, what has Avatar Kyoshi ever given to this world that might help you?"
Mayumi's silence wasn't born of pondering Huo's ludicrous proposal. Rather, it was the silence of someone who had sensed a shift, an unseen weight settling over the standoff like a storm cloud before a downpour. While they all stood frozen, locked in a precarious balance of blades and breath, another presence had taken notice.
At the far end of the street, a solitary lamp flickered to life, casting a pallid glow. Beneath it stood a figure, tall and indistinct, wrapped in shadow. Their outline is slim, but their presence loomed impossibly large.
The very suggestion of what the figure might be, a wearer of a spiked conical helm and draped in a robe dark, is enough to silence the zealots. One by one, their voices died in their throats, memories surfacing like cold sweat. They remembered now why they cowered from the sun, why they whispered oaths instead of shouting them. Once ablaze with devotion to their Master and the doctrine of Eternal Balance, now they dared not even name the shadow that had arrived.
"Esteemed messenger," murmured one of the lead acolytes to Huo, who still has Mayumi's blade fixed near her throat. "Run. If we're fortunate... we may buy you a few seconds."