Firefly (ON HOLD)

Chapter 2 - Miscalculation

"Again, Raka!"

Her voice is firm and unyielding and I know she means it, so I pull myself up off the ground and attempt the move again.

The idea of it is simple: I'm supposed to go from a crouch into a spinning kick and land in a defensive stance.

But I'm not getting the balance and timing correct for the kick, because I always land on my butt. I've tried it a hundred times, and still, I fail.

I want to give up. I'm so tired, and it's dark now, and Sara has long gone to bed so why can't I—

"Raka!"

I straighten, halting my mental complaining. "Sorry, Heka."

Not expecting much, but not wanting to disappoint my teacher, I drop into a crouch again. My aching muscles protest, but I grit my teeth and try to breathe evenly, focusing solely on my goal as Heka has taught me to do.

I have to master this, I think to myself. I have to, because I can't let Heka's training go to waste. I have to get strong so I can survive in this world, so what happened before won't ever happen again. 

So when I grow up, I can protect everyone.

I spring from the crouch, spinning off my right foot and letting my body elongate itself in the air as I twist—I tighten my muscles and I'm almost there, I've almost got the landing—

I'm jerked out of the dream by a strange sound and a feeling of dread.

Something is out of place. 

I sit up fast, my eyes scanning the makeshift campsite—but nothing appears to be wrong. I stand, searching for something, anything, that could be the source of the bad feeling in my gut, but I don't—then, I smell it.

Smoke.

Something's burning... oh no. 

I run, heading deeper into the forest, but I can't tell where the smoke is coming from—it seems to be all around me. How could they have found my campsite?!? How could I have let them sneak up on me?! I'm such an idiot!!

But yelling at myself won't help the situation, so I keep running. I should come up against the fire soon—I can just bend my way through it and sneak away.

At least, that's the plan.

But plans are easily ruined, and this time... this time, I miscalculated.

****

By the time they finally strip the black hood off my head, I've estimated that about eight days have passed. That, of course, is just the time that I was semi-conscious.

So it's safe to assume that it's been at least double that...

I look around, blinking against unfamiliar light. Thankfully this room is gloomy—the source of the light comes from in front of me...

When I look up, any thankfulness I'd felt is erased.

A throne sits on a huge raised dais with a Fire Nation symbol behind it. A man shrouded in shadow sits on the throne, and all around the dais flames are dancing and writhing at the man's whim.

I know where I am.

And I know who the man is.

Dread settles thickly across my throat and curdles in my stomach; an unfamiliar sense of fear makes my mouth dry and my palms sweat.

Someone put that hood back on please...

"So you're the Painted Lady." His voice is deep and venomous, filled with satisfied malice. "What's your name, girl?"

I swallow, but say nothing. 

Resignation fills me—I'm going to die. It's a fitting way for my life to end, I suppose. Technically, my life was over nine years ago anyway.

I got a couple of second chances along the way, but neither of them panned out in the end. 

It's sad, now that I think about it.

I should have run far away after they killed Heka. I never should've come back to the Fire Nation. Not even for revenge.

Firelord Ozai asks me more questions, but I tune him out, ignoring him. No matter how many times the guards hit me, I don't respond or make a sound.

Finally, one of them misjudges his own strength, and my vision goes black.

**__**

She watched, tense, as the girl was dragged from Ozai's throne room. There was an ache in Her heart and She wanted nothing more than to help the girl, but She could do nothing.

She wondered just how long She'd have to wait before She could make good on Her promise.

She looked to Her right, at the tall man who sat beside Her. His unruly gray hair hung about his face, and his tired amber eyes glinted in his craggy, aged face. He was a man who had seen much hardship in his life; now he had awaked from his long slumber, at Her request.

Soon, She hoped, he would be able to return to his rest, once Her task was complete.

"How much longer must we wait?"

He looked at Her, then back at the image in the water, and shook his head. "She's not ready yet, Great One. Someday, but not yet."