ATLA: Azlua

Phoenix City VI

Two weeks passed quickly, each day busier than the last. Phoenix City Hall was no longer the silent, oppressive structure Ty Lee had first encountered. Now it buzzed with activity and purpose. The People's Assembly had found its footing, transforming a once cold bureaucratic center into a place of warmth and collaboration.

From her office window, Ty Lee watched people flow in and out, trading documents and smiles. Haran waved a dismissive hand as he argued good-naturedly with Lin Ma about food routes. Mei-Lin organized blankets for distribution, pausing occasionally to gently encourage her young assistants. Jian stood calmly in the hallway, patiently listening to the concerns of a family seeking medical aid.

A quiet knock broke her reverie. Ty Lee turned, seeing Zira standing near the door, watching her thoughtfully. "It's good to see you smiling again," Zira said quietly.

Ty Lee let out a gentle laugh, glancing back outside. "We've really turned things around, haven't we?"

"You've turned it around," Zira corrected gently, stepping forward to join her by the window. "It was your determination that made this possible."

Ty Lee's expression softened, humbled. "I helped, sure, but it wasn't just me. It was them—the people out there." Her gaze grew serious again, a faint shadow of uncertainty crossing her features. "We're so close, Zira. But it's still fragile. One wrong move, and everything we've built could crumble."

Zira rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Then we'll make sure we don't make any mistakes."

--

The marketplace bustled, filled with lively voices and laughter. Bright stalls showcased fresh produce and handmade goods. It was a beautiful, tangible sign of the progress they'd made. Ty Lee walked alongside Haran, savoring this rare moment of satisfaction. Yet Haran's expression remained troubled.

Ty Lee frowned lightly, sensing his unease. "What's wrong? You look tense."

Haran sighed, lowering his voice so passing citizens wouldn't overhear. "There are whispers, Ty Lee. People talking quietly about disruptions, threats left at doorsteps. The rebels haven't vanished; they're just regrouping."

Ty Lee's expression tightened slightly, but she refused to surrender her optimism. "They've been quiet for weeks. Maybe they're reconsidering. We've shown them we're not here to oppress anyone."

Haran shook his head slowly, unconvinced. "They see you as Fire Nation first, no matter how much you've done. You might want to talk peace, but to them, peace means surrender."

She stopped, looking into his weathered eyes earnestly. "Then let's talk to them directly. Give them a chance before anyone else gets hurt. If we extend an olive branch, maybe they'll finally see we genuinely want peace."

Haran hesitated, concern evident in his deep-set eyes, before nodding cautiously. "I admire your optimism, but be careful. Optimism alone won't protect you—or Phoenix City."

Ty Lee's voice softened. "Maybe not. But optimism is why we've gotten this far."

---

Late that evening, in the quiet stillness of her private chambers, Ty Lee stood anxiously near a small table, lit by a single lantern casting dancing shadows upon the walls. Jian entered quietly, accompanied by a stern-faced young woman whose posture radiated guarded mistrust. Her name was Rin, the rebel emissary Jian had discreetly arranged for this meeting.

"Thank you for coming," Ty Lee began earnestly, gesturing toward the table. "Please sit."

Rin remained standing, arms folded firmly across her chest, eyes sharp with suspicion. "Say what you have to say, Overseer."