War of Change | Book 3

27: Blue Dragon

Art: Artist Not Found

I stood apart from the others. My mind was still reeling from my nightmare as I tried to figure out what it meant. Everyone seemed to sense that something was wrong because no one bothered me.

Unlike in my dream, it hadn't only been my father who had gotten my invitation. Everyone from the Western Air temple had been brought along, including Chit Sang. Apparently, my father had been doing an excellent job keeping them alive, which none were very eager to leave behind.

The whole merry band had joined my siblings and others to happily recount what had happened during their separation. I listened to only some of it, which included Hakoda's explanation that they went to the Earth Kingdom to go into hiding after they left the air temple. They found themselves in a small village not far from Ba Sing Se. It was mostly overrun by thugs, but it was the kind of place where no one would notice a small group of travelers passing through.

My siblings then started to explain the Fire Lord's plan. That was about the time I decided to leave.

I found myself leaning against a tree on the edge of the camp. I had picked up a log used for tinder and began to whittle away at the wood and my thoughts. I needed to do something to keep myself busy.

The ice throbbing in my chest would not subside.

"The calm before the storm," a voice stole my attention. I looked up to see an unnamed White Lotus member standing above me. There was nothing rather significant about him – his salt and pepper hair reached his shoulders and matched his beard, which was well-groomed. The only noteworthy part of his features was a stray scar that split through the broader region of his forehead; it was hardly noticeable due to years of healing and the wrinkles surrounding it. "It's an unsettling feeling, isn't it?"

I nodded silently as I turned my attention back to the carving in my hands.

"You appear to have a lot on your mind," the man commented. He took the place beside me and stared out into the same nothingness I had previously found myself gaping at. "It's not good to go into battle with skewed focus."

A long sigh left my mouth as I glanced down at the ground and finally pulled my knife from the piece of wood. "I didn't sleep well last night, that's all."

"Bad dream?" he inquired, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.

An image swirled in my mind of the warden withering in pain from my grip, blood pooling out of his lips and dripping onto the floor.

A shutter fell down my spine, but I tried to cover it by shifting against the tree. "You can say that," I spoke sharply.

"My apologies," the man said quickly, "I don't mean to be invasive. It's just... I had to say something to you." My brow furrowed instantly at the tone of his statement. "I mean, you are the famous Kida."

My brow quirked, but I did not look. I pretended to not pay my full attention as I continued with the project in my hands. "Famous?"