The grey clouds obscured the sky and the sun. It was rather chilly for the last summer days. Isana had seen better days in th past two years; however, she could not forget almost a decade of darkness, hurt and grief. She took nealy an hour to build a shelter for the two in the middle of the chain of mountains they had to crossover. From what she remembered, the Imperial Army preferred to avoid the narrow paths longing the mountains and favored to go around it. They were not safe, but Isana's mind was a bit more at ease.
In the shelter, Jun was resting soundlessly. Thanks to her herbalist background acquired from the tea trade, she had found a few herbs that would ease her son's pain and would prevent him from being infected. The stitches he had on the small scar behind his head. The bleeding had stopped a long time ago, but she feard that, by the time they found shelter, her had possibly contracted an infection. She checked up on him every now and then just to be sure.
"I'll be right back," she whispered after one hour. She needed to find food, more herbs and water for them both. They needed to relemplish themselves with vitamins and minerals to last longer. She also needed to scout around to be on the look out for any suspicious activity. This time, there was no place for failure.
She should have never left him behind even if she assumed that he was safe. She did the only thing that she had hated all her life. Her son could have lost his mother and ended up all alone at nearly two in a wasteland.
They were just scouts, but even the scouts in the Imperial Army could be a force to be reckoned with. They were two and attacked her coldbloodedly even if she was a woman. These Suryan scums were demons. They cared less for the lives of women, children and elderly if they were not from their kin. One managed to hold her hair while the other was about to finish her. Nevertheless, it was not today that she was to be executed. Her rage and her fear made her use her fire. A cold blue flame. A flame so deadly that it mercilessly burned the man who held her. She, then, bended his ashes and threw it in his companion's face, before burning him as well. The grip loosened on her and she freed hersel. There was no way that she would let them live. They were leaving behind those they loved. She moved sturdily and opned a cracked in the earth beforepushing the bodies in it and hiding them. There wasno way she was leaving any trace of their encounter.
Afterwards, she ran to the camp an that was when in sheer horror she saw more scouts. She could not see her baby; yet, for some reason, she could feel deep in her heart that the baby was still alive. She had to remove the threat. She had to eliminate them. Breathing a couple of times to relax, she was calmer than the natural paradise of old. She went silently and swiftly taking out a dagger that she had hidden on herself. Years of service as an assassin had paid off. Deep into the night, Death had taken the lives of three scouts slicing their throats for the most part. Thanks to her earthbending, she could simply locate them by using the ground.
When she thought she succeeded, one last scout appeared out of thin air almost. They fought or the longest of time ending near a clearing that Isana had not noticed earlier. He managed to push her on the ground and keep a strong grip on her wrists. She hid her fright of a soldier raping her. That was when her son came out from wherever he was. The little boy who had yet to celebrate his second year. Isana believed that it was impossible as the age was usually three, but, just then, her son burned the man in the face. The flames were far from strong, but she was sure that she saw them. The soldier, enraged, pushed the boy so hard that he fell into the clearing. The confusion she had over the miracle vanished. Her fear and her anger had the best of her. she redued him to cinder after a short brawl on the ground.
It was no time to rejoice. She had to find her son. She was also replaying all the scenarios in her head if she ever reached Mikhail's camp. She could see everything coming, but, for now, she needed her son. Bless it be that little kids learned how to float on their back when they are babies in Elv for the most part. Here was a slightly frightened son of hers floating and holding back his tears to remain as calmly as possible.
In the morning, Isana wondered if what happened during the night was real. Perhaps, her son was a genius. However, she was sad to realize that nothing unsual happened and, perhaps, sh only saw her son pushing the man's head. A good push in the eye would have done the same thing to the scout. However, it was a theory, perhaps, fear could affect the kids. After all...what sent her in the Badlands was her fear to die. It was then that she had exposed her own identty as cupian. There was still one year left until the average year of manifestation.
"I promised myself that you would never grow to be like me. I would protect you from harm and shelter you in a perfect world, but I failed. I am sorry." Her grip on her son was so tight. The tears poured down her eyes as she covered his forehead with kisses. She turned her head towards the moon and she prayed all the vessels to spare the inert body in her arms. She had never regretted him only regretted how he was conceived. He was this light in her dark world. He was her joy, but, not only hers, he had been the one to give hope to many around who had gravitated around him. He could not leave her alone in this world. Not him too. She had lost already, so why would she be punished once more.
It had not been the first time since she had brought Jun in Tempestade. After all, Surya may believe that they have conquered all of air kingdom, but the land was vast. Her last time, she had brought her son to the Temple of Libra in hopes of showing a bit of her culture to her child. Of course, he was not particularly interested in all that, but he still love playing with kites and wearing flowy clothing while he believed that he was flying. There was something about children. They always had a way into their parents' life. Jun always found a way to brighten her world and to make her smile. She had gave the breath of life to her miracle and her happiness.
Knowing full well that the Imperial Army had made a push, she was sure that they had only gained one or two miles radius at best. It was a great surprise that she found the temple in ruins. Rage boiled in her vein, but she kept it within for her son's sake. It was best for them to leave the premises and to head into much safer place while they remained far from any danger. A bit up north, they fell on a little community that were packing up. According to them, the Suryan army was marching from the south and it was best for them to leave as quickly as possible following the northern star then fleeing east. They were preparing themselves to leave the next day.
Isana always weighed the pros and cons when it came to make the most objective decisions, but seeing her son running around all happily and discovering his nomadic heritage made her stay with the folks. He even received a dream catcher and a feather from one of the elders although he was too young to understand their meaning. Before all the kids went to bed, a granny rounded them up to tell them a traditional story. She knew exactly how to captivate her audience with her gestures and her tones. It was hard to tuck the little boy in bed when the tale came to an end. Alas, if only Mikhail was around, Jun would have not been so rebellious and would have pulled his blanket all by himself to sleep. He simply gave her all this hard work that little betraying rascal she adored.
"I lub you, mama," he expressed sincerely before falling asleep a few seconds later.
Her son glued to her when he had so much space around him, she rested her eyes knowing that in a couple of hours they would have to walk miles to the next village or what Tempestade defined as 'cities'.
Suddenly she heard some ruffling outside the camp, which woke her up in a jump. The years she had survived in the Badlands were still vivid for the young mother. On guard, she decided to look out and that was it. She plunged back to the horrors of ten years ago. In a flashback, she could see her father ordering her mother to take her away. She could see the caravans all in flames while the men tried to desperately protect their families from their enemy. She pulled Jun who started crying almost immediately out of fright and began to run. That was the side of Tempestade that she had never wished her son to ever see and, worse, to ever live. He had not even lived two years on this earth. What were the chances that he would survive without his mother?
"Hush, Jun," she repeated many times again. The mere cry of her infant would attract the attention of the heartless beasts of the military.
"Who goes there?" someone yelled behind them.
She had no choice, but to hide Jun before it was too late. Isana was going to protect him in the best of her ability, but she needed him to stay strong. "Hush little baby..." she whispered as she sang. "...don't you cry..." She needed to reassure him in the most stressful of situations. Never had she suspected him to understand the gravity of what was going on, because he was quiet. She made sure that he stayed hidden by the bushes by raising a few stones walls too high for him to climb on top, but still barely not noticeable.
Her son did not have to see what she was about to do. What anyone with their right mind would have not done. Years of training wasted just there. Cero would have never been proud of her. He, who was stationed in Tempestade to aid in the relief force, was so close yet so far away. She hoped that they would live and meet him again. For now, just like a mother bear protecting her cub, she engaged the enemy. She sensed three of them in the area and she knew that she could engage them. Besides, they always attacked first, therefore, all she needed was a sturdy defense and a powerful counterattack.
The odds were in her favour until suddenly she heard Jun. She knew exactly how he sounded when he cried. Isana was astonished that a fourth soldier had slid right behind her back and held her son in the air and by his little wrist. She froze an resigned to fight almost immediatly if it was the only to save her son. She could reason them and tell them that he was of Suryan blood and that he was born under the sign of the Sagittarius. Years later, when he would become a firebender, he would be of use. Perhaps, he would even make his way to his biological father.
To her horror, the fourth soldier burst in laughter and threw her son away. She saw his poor little head hit the ground. Everything turned blank around her. Everything...reddened. They had targeted the wrong woman in those woods on this night. A cuspian, a cuspian who managed to leave the Badlands at that. She directed her rage in form of a cold fire to the three soldiers close to her. The lightning paralyzed them long enough for her to crush them with the earth. The weight of the ground on their poor bodies. The gasps they took as they were suffocating. One of the worst way to die.
She gave no time for the fourth to even understand what was going on, and she charged on him. Years, she had restrained herself from going berserk on those soldiers. Usually collected, her shell was shattered and she unleashed it all. She barely remembered how she managed to end up on top of him while stabbing him for the numerous time with that knife she always kept on her for safety measures. When she regain controlled of herself, she dropped it and rushed at her son's side.
"Jun...Jun...Jun..." she kept on calling his name, but the little one's eyes remained closed. There was blood coming from his head, which made her realized that he hit his head on a rock. She was shivering unsure what to do in times like these. All she could think of was that once again someone was leaving her behind. It was not just anyone this time. It was the one little boy that she had to protect. She failed at being the mother that she had vowed to be. In the end, she should have left him on this porch. She was no good of a mother for him for the little innocent child who had the most precious smile and the most precious laughter and the most precious...
"Mama..." hallucinated Isana. "I lub you."
Something was moving in her arms as if Jun wanted to free himself from her embrace. it was not time for his soul to leave. He had still so much to accomplish and so much to see. She promised that she would give him his favorite cookies even if she did not want him to eat sweet so much. She would buy him this chiffon teddy bear that he really wanted and that he even cried for in the streets. She would play with him more often instead of always have Sojin handling this job. She would bring him to swim and, maybe, Sam too. She would...
The child in her arm suddenly began to cry. That was when she noticed that he was still alive. She checked him up and noticed that there was only a small injury, but nothing was minor for a mother. He was still unconscious for a while, which was critical in her book. They was no time to spare. They had to journey north. There she woul fall on a refugee camp. She would probably find Cero who would have to take care of an exhausted and reckless mother and her very sturdy son.
"I love you, Junnie," she finally mustered when she stood up after a few more minutes of rest. Her head hurt so much an she realized that she even used lava and that the bodies had been consumed by it. Even if she need more rest, she had to bring her son to safety.
Coming back to her desolate home after so long left a bitter aftertaste. The scars still ran deep through her body and stang. They were, of course, psychological, but there were still quite a few physical scars left from her many encounters. She remembered when she saw her father and mother for the very last time. She remembered her decimated neighbors and friends. She remembered the fire. Never was she going to forget the harm done to her people.
It was as a Duuri merchant tha she entered what was left of Tempestade where the main casle was still standing. The easternmost parts of the region had yet to fall under Suryan rule due to the setbacks in what seemed like trenches in the center. Finally, after a decade, Tempestade and the Coalition were able to maintain a solid defense; however, time was running against their favor. It was until fresh blood came out to play. It made the merchant boiled when she learned of those machines under the royal family's direct order. According to some rumors, those superhumans equated perhaps a whole squad. The other news was that, at last, a troop solely consisted of Tempestan had joined. However, it was still not enough in her opinion.
With her clearance and her immunity obtained from the Duuri council, Isana was allowed to roam freely all over the continent for the time being. Her life was safe from harm of any army. She did not fear anything in particular, but it was always safe to travel with those papers. Along with her, she was bringing in food, water, clothes and medical supplies for the refugee camps. It was rather a lucrative business. At the same time, she decided that she was to stop by the castle to reconnect with an old decorated ghost. It was no surprised that the Westerley family had decided to join the forces, after all, everyone had to give a hand since the throne was at stake.
The eldest surviving prince was a person that could be defined as a 'childhood friend' even if they were from different status. Unlike in Surya, rules were often bent in the air nation. Lucas would escape his duties and his little castle from time to time. Back then, he was not the heir; therefore, it did not pose that great of deal. Everything changed when the war began. They had lost contact for quite some time. When they met again, they realized that, even if they had the same goal for Tempestade, the way they had to achieve it was not the same. The now crown prince favored the military approach while the merchant had a penchant for assassination. Isana had actually become a successful one and it displeased him in a sense.
Dressed in Tempestade's traditional clothing for once, she waited in a room for the prince to come. Her abilities detected the latter's presence as he entered the room and she did not have to turn herself to see him. It was one of the perks of being capable of mastering earthbending. Her eyes stared at the untouched nature surrounding the castle. It was far different from most of Tempestade now in ruins. There was a quite a lot of anger in her heart. Her rage was boiling, because of the king's desire to keep the traditions alive when the nation was dying.
"How're you faring these days, my lord," she greeted slightly mockingly. "I have heared that the tides are changing with our agonizing kingdom."
She turned herself to finally meet his eyes. He was taller now since he was once perhaps a bit shorter than her when they were younger. War had changed him signficatly, but she still hoped that there was this part of him that remained untouched by the barbaric plague they were subjected to.
"I've heard that your dad gave your early birthay presents," she added while she was at it. "You have new hunting hounds."
AESTHETICS; | 1482 - 1492 | tempestade, a decade later, the war rages on and decimates the once peaceful people of the east. the air nation remembers. justice shall come. //
wrong side of heaven * we’re not alone * iron * love don’t live here anymore * illuminated * my demons * unknown soldier * you can’t save me * someone who cares * far from home [unofficial 8tracks]
| SOJIN && ISANA | The crown princess and the merchant were once stuck together, which forced Isana to trust someone other than the kids of the Badlands she survived it. Isana had to trust the young royal in one of the worst time of her life...childbirth. They are best of friends (Sojin, being her son’s self-proclaimed godmother) and they care for one another (even Isana is often in denial).
orz. terrible lazy admin says sorry that she is not active (well, i never fail to make events tho) i welcome all of the new kids with open arms and lots of love (although some of you got double-counts, you need no welcomes, but just love). that’s pretty much it. and we can plot.
ISANA MEONJI && CERO MIKHAIL: They met in the Badlands, studied under the same late father figure and vowed to exact revenge their own way (by becoming assassins). Siblings by bonds who “hate” each other, he endured her teenage antics (and her pregnancy) while she endured his anger issues (and his flirting).
bonus.
**Cero, when it comes to Jun, only seems to lighten up and to have the ability to care when it comes to Jun. Daddy Figure of the Year.
**It is probably their very own sibling thing aside for “not caring” about the other, because Meonji is a natural mother. Best Mommy Award.
“I think I was born strong-willed. That's not the kind of thing you can learn. The advantage is, you stick to what you believe in and rarely get pushed out of what you want to do.”
RETROGRADE’s very first meme is here!! It’s a meme consisting of a list of prompts you may reblog up to three times over the week ( until 08/30, because another meme will be posted then! Of course you are free to publish responses even after that date if you still have unanswered prompts ). You may answer the prompts in canon verse, present, past, future, or AU; use them as starters or drabbles; let your imagination run wild!
Do not forget to send those who reblogged it a prompt, too, instead of only expecting to receive. Send and receive is the golden rule. Have fun!
It would have taken more than a few lanterns for a Tempestan like her to even consider that the Suryan emperor had apologized for his war crimes let alone attempted to make amends and to restore peace. It had been a decade since he had been burning villages, humans and landscapes. The cease fire was, however, some sort of blessing. At least, for two weeks, the Tempestans could breathe normally without an ounce of fear; they could reminisce the old times when there did not have to look up to the sky and flee at the mere tint of gray. A gray cloud no longer meant storm to them. The connotation it had was smoke. It was a sign that the Imperial army was near. Some would be lucky enough to run away before the army marched in, but others had to face them. Death was almost always imminent when the folks clashed with those vile soldiers who had no respect for the civilians or, even, the sacred temples. One day, most thought, Surya would pay for its crimes. It was Tempestade’s silent wish, silent curse. You reap whatever you sow, that was a law of nature.
She never forgot where she came from. She never forgot what she lost. She never forgot what she was working for. The news of the carnage damaged the young woman even more. Away for far too long with the business, she had been a bit out of touch with the world. In her shock, she remembered those who had died, who had left her. She remembered when she lost all her innocence after breaking down. That moment, she had been consumed by depravity as a whole and solely live for revenge. Along the way, a few blessings had come such as her son born out of irony. Her rage was boiling when she heard that the king finally understood that he had to dirty his hands. There was no place for morals and traditions in war. It was almost as if he tried to suffocate the air kingdom with his more nonviolent views. Those times were memories of old. To break from them was entirely overdue. At last, he let out those agents of destruction out of their dungeon almost as if a deity was finally releasing its long-awaited saviors. All they need was a messiah. They needed the one to restore Tempestade.
“Bring me the contracts,” she had ordered that day.
[ TW: Graphic Imagery (Gore) ]
Isana knew that there was one job that had been collecting dust in a while. It was the one of that female soldier that she remembered as ‘Hani’ or something else. The merchant remembered that she had left it for an opportune moment. That event had now come. She knew how gratifying it was going to be when she would complete her mission. They pay was also good when it came to kill a Brigadier General from the Suryan imperial army. And, what was a better time then to go for the head of one of those poster boys, those rising stars? It made Isana quite...excited to say the least. She performed her ritual, kissing her son’s forehead as a goodbye, and left in the middle of the night for one of the most dangerous places in the world, the Badlands. She had heard of one currently enjoying a hunting trip while, on the side of the continent, people had been murdered under orders. It was disgusting on all accounts. Those Suryans did seem to enjoy trampling on the weak. Some sort of entertainment, perhaps.
It took a few days to arrive in Surya from Duur. The distance between the two was negligeable compared to a trip from Duur to Tempestade. From her web of spies, her little ones, she had learned that the Brigadier General had the Badlands and stayed in the nearest city in a hotel. One of her little ones also noted the proximity to the brothels. Of course, rare was a rich bastard loyal to his wife and family. They had riches and the blood, which made them lords of the world who did not have to care about the lowly and filthy commoners. Those common folks were their cattle. The slaves did not even worth the garbage they execrate. It was a good piece of information that she took no time to employ in her great scheme to take the man down. Men never ceased to fail. Most, if not all, were weak when it came to their appetite. As they grow, they would start less thinking through their brain and would indulge in the lust that their phallic instrument crave.
“Let’s play a game, shall we?” she asked in a sweet and seductive tone. “You can look, but you can’t touch yet.”
It was too easy. After weeks without releasing the sexual frustration that had built up inside him, he agreed to spend the night with her. It was almost laughable, but, at last, he had the decency not to rape any of the Badlands’s folks (simply torturing and terminating them). He kept it all in instead of using one of those under his command. The general was desperate. She toyed with him as she delicately tied his arms together. She had him watch her slow strip. Anyone could call her a whore, but, at the end of the day, she had only slept with men that could be counted with one hand, less than five fingers. They could call label her with any name. She was only doing her job in the best way possible, and, if she had to play the role of the prostitute to get the work done, she was going to do it. Besides, no one live to see the day (typically) when she showed more skin than breathing could bargain for. To see her fully undressed rhymed with death.
Once the old male tied up and herself nude, she bent down to grab the piece of resistance, a knife, but not just any knife, a cleaver. With brute force, she began to chop his ankles. He was not going to die from such a superficial injury. She was simply severing some limbs. From ankles to a bit above his knee, she had amputated him on both sides without any anesthetic herbs. It was sad for him. She proceeded with his hands and a bit above the elbows. He was losing a considerable amount of blood now. His end was near. It was predictable. He needed quite the pain. Since he was going to die anyway, he did not need his private part. That was probably the straw as he fell unconscious soon later. It had possibly been horrible to even become one of her victim. It was all in the name of the job with a bit of hard feelings on the side. He was a noble who hunted in the Badlands and who was decorated for killing unarmed villagers and travelers. That kin of scum was worth eliminating. The entire ordeal brought her peace, ironically, and strengthened her resolve.
His head wrapped in elegant cloth, red silk to be more precised, was on the table while she contemplated the outside of the poorer district of the Suryan city. This hotel was luxurious while all around was misery. It got all its fund from prostitution. The nobles paid big for this extra-service in their menu. She held a cup of tea. It always helped her relaxed and repress that side of her. Her coldness, her sense of negotiation (borderline manipulation) and her calculative side were her only dark traits she constantly kept while she repressed the monster inside that grew over years subjected to all horrors. She had seen too much. She had survived so much. At least, she had her son, her family (by bonds) and her few friends to keep her good side in check. There were permanent scars that permeate her life, but there was those people in her life that kept her rooted. Something was telling her that as she would journey back into the Badlands, she was going to stumble into an unexpected discovery.
Her life hung on a rope, remained still on thin ice. One day, there will be no saving.
[ sorry for being slow. school started for me and i am in the student committee and i’m supposed to be working soon. if you want to continue to plot with me, i will always to be open for you guys. i’ll be really slow on replies however. also, i will always be up to date as the admin lazy orz i hope you like the viikate. isa’ and aeron shall be there from time to time. ]
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