Broken Spirit: The Next Avatar

Chapter Eleven: Serefina

                  

The worst part about being held prisoner in a psychopath's mansion isn't being starved (I was given one, maybe two meals a day), or having my arms chained to a wall so that after thirty minutes I completely lost feeling in them. It's knowing that you're completely at the mercy of your captors. When I finally regain consciousness, the first thing I get to listen to is this conversation:

"We can't kill her. Not until we have them both."

"Is that even our main priority anymore? The date is almost—"

"You know as well as I do that we can't kill the Avatar just to have them be reborn."

"But if only half of the Avatar is killed, they will be reborn, yes, but not for many years. The remaining half would never become a fully realized Avatar. It isn't a perfect solution, but it would allow us to focus on more important issues."

There is a long, frightening pause.

"For now, we stay the course. The other half of the Avatar could not have gotten far. Find her. If that proves too difficult for you, we can kill the one we have."

"Alright."

One of the twins walks past my view. I think its Dante, but my eyes are so blurry from pain that I can't be sure. Behind him follows the man he was talking to. He's much older, but I can see a family resemblance. His father, maybe?

From what I'm able to overhear from the many people that walk past me, this mansion has several actual cells a floor below me, but because I'm an airbender I guess they thought that would be too dangerous. So instead I'm locked in a small, bare room with only a small window cut out of the door for me to see what goes on.

It's a small comfort to me that they consider me enough of a threat not to give me access to the same air that they breathe.

I don't know how long I'm trapped with only my thoughts for company before the door opens and that same man I saw earlier steps inside. He wears long robes the shade of blood that sweep the floor when he walks. The Red Lotus insignia is printed proudly on his chest.

"Hello Serefina," he says. "I've heard so much about you."

I don't trust myself to speak. The pain in my shoulders is almost blinding.

He pretends to notice my discomfort for the first time. "What a terrible way to treat a guest. My sincere apologies for this—how barbaric." His arms shoot forward, and when he slowly pulls them back the metal spikes attached to the chain around my wrists slide out of the wall. They converge at a point in front of me on the floor, where they're embedded deeply in the wood.

It feels like I'm being stabbed repeatedly as my arms lower to the floor. I'm now able to sit comfortably, but this kindness doesn't fool me. He wants me to know that my fate is entirely in his hands.

"I haven't introduced myself." He starts to walk leisurely in front of me, like he has conversations with his captives every day. I shudder to imagine what Nadia went through. "The Red Lotus recognizes no formal leadership of course, but from time to time one must assume the responsibility, when we experience a great threat, for instance, or are about to change the world forever." His eyes glint with a malice I never knew a person to be capable of.

"Change it how?" My voice is little more than a cough, but he understands enough.

He waves away my question. "I'm not here to talk about my plans. I came here to talk about you. Tell me, what do you remember before you fainted?"

I don't see any harm in telling him the truth. If I appear cooperative, it will be easier for me to escape.

"I remember fighting. Nadia was upset . . . she screamed. Then I felt really tired."