@urianius
things can change in an instant.
these will become the moments that dahee remembers for the rest of her life. these will become the moments in that - in each instance, no matter what she'd done. fate had already set into motion what was to be. and in every instance she had been hit face to face with the powerlessness of one person and the overwhelming strength - one man and his quest for power.
a question of humanity
she'd heard stories.
but she'd only seen the aftermath.
she'd heard stories of the fire nation's trample across the outer villages of the earth kingdom, their cowardice in attacking those who were barely trained to attack back. she'd heard of the overwhelming force of their army's and of the sheer power of fire even when met with a villager and his desire to protect his family.
since she'd become a rebel she'd only seen the villages overtaken and the villages untouched. her village was on such village. a peaceful place. she can count every hut and every family she knows by name. she knows what their daughters wish to be, what their sons always get caught doing before curfew. she knows where to get the best fish, who makes the best rice, and who has the best tea concoction.
she knows which family has known hers for generations and which has always had things to say when they'd seen her running up and down when she should've been studying. her parents had dreams for her, send her to the inner walls, raise money for her studies and let her become a nice and well-kept wife, maybe the lady of a tea-shop owner or even better - a general.
dongchen always laughs at that one.
but he always lets her take a peek when they're passing her village, just to check on everyone. see who hasn't fixed their home even though rain is coming, see if the kids are keeping to curfew in these new times of oncoming war. she liked to stop by when their missions bring her close to home. she doesn't regret her decision to become a rebel, but she missed them.
so when she'd taken her little detour, careful not to be seen - she'd fallen to silence at the sight of a fire nation army approaching, early in the morning to her unsuspecting home. there were too many - too many to run back and warn their small party, too many to risk their small party of rebels against and too many for her village to stand a chance.
she wanted to warn someone - tell someone but her feet had remained frozen. they were armed, they were menacing, and she'd never seen such an amassed army up close. the metal of their uniforms shone like a foreign object among the green and brown of the trees leading to her village and the calm oranges of the morning sky. she couldn't move. she couldn't open her mouth as their general ascended the same cliff she'd spent hours on, watching, wishing she could be home and hug her parents. the cliff she'd spent sharing fruits and grilled fish and skipping lessons to go watch the earthbenders practice.
now he stood ready to make the order to take them away from her.
earth kingdoms were becoming colonies, all fallen villages being amassed by the fire nation and paying tribute in the form of supplies and soldiers for the army that was amassing. it was easy to prey on outer villages, and its one of the reasons most rebels consisted mostly of outer villagers, they'd seen for sure what the fire nation was capable of. it had yet to meet the inner walls in any other form other than a telegram, a tale as far as the king was concerned.
she couldn't fight them. she knew she couldn't. she couldn't run down and save her family and risk exposing them as being related to a rebel and then exposing her team to discovery. she couldn't. but she could remember this man - watch him carry out the order and have an image and a tactic to take back to her team afterwards.
she remembers liveliness of her people, even as the soldiers slowed, obviously waiting for the order to strike. she watches him, this man with all the power in his hand to abuse those unsuspecting. she watched and remembered as he stopped, and turned around and ordered the rest to do the same. she remembers the hesitation in those around him, but she remembers one last thing.
it was a glimpse of his face, set into hard lines, and the battle she'd seen in his face as he'd marched by. she remembers humanity she doesn't think she'd ever seen in those wearing the stripes of their oppressor.
she remembers when she'd ran back to the party, they couldn't believe her.
humanity? in the fire nation. dongchen had told her he's just glad everything was okay.
but it wasn't.
because there's two sides to humanity.
2. an instance of conviction
the stories could not compare to the real thing.
what does she remember?
there's yelling. but there's always yelling, there's always been yelling and people running and screaming. that was how they did things, that's how she knew things to be and that's what she prepared for. this time - she'd seen nothing. she'd heard nothing.
it was near midnight when dongchen had awoken her. she remembers the sound of the cicadas, the sounds of the rustles of the trees that she's learned to read for intruders versus allies. very rarely do they camp overground, but they were just a mile away from her village and dahee wanted a peek, just another before she resigned herself to the tucked away life that rebels had adopted. deep underground, or underbrush, where the fire nation didn't have the tact or the familiarity to know how to traverse. just a moment, before they continued gathering forces and teaching them how to evade and fight before they could teach them to liberate. a grueling task, even more grueling to be away from her family, but she managed. once she took up the mantle, there was no seeing them.
she'd had a spot - a little tree above the cliff that overlooked the shallow canyon where her village rested. the same crest she'd watched that commander stand on before he turned his back to them and spared them.
how could she have know back then what it meant.
she remembers dongchen speaking but she can't remember what he'd said because she'd smelled the smoke. it had already made its way tot heir encampment, hidden by layers of earth as it already.
she'd sprung into action, into unnecessary and dangerous movement to lead her where she needed to go. she remembers rubble, beating across the side of her face as she ran, earth carrying her every step of the way, meeting her feet with each step she took. she'd forgotten her training, her stealth, and if dongchen hadn't caught up to her, tackled her into the brush before she'd reached the canyon, they might've seen her.
but they were rolling their machinery out and it'd manage to block the sound of her coming. he'd used every strength he had in him to keep her down, to tell her to stay quiet, to calm her down. but dahee remembers. she remembers peeking past his hands - and blearing her eyes through the smoke that indicated the fate of her home.
the fire nation - they can leave survivors. she's seen it. she's seen them take prisoners, slaves, workers - she's seen them make colonies. she's seen them tear down an entire people adn overwhelm them - incapacitate their benders. she's seen what marks the beginning of a war, what they have to go up against.
she'd never seen this.
when her eyes fell upon the wasteland that once belonged to her town, dongchen no longer had to use force to keep her still. her body went numb, her eyes stung from smoke and grief alike as she took in the sight of the village. ash. not a soul, not a body, not a remnant except for pieces of huts that were nothing but char waiting to fall and mix with the earth.
dahee doesn't come from a village that fights.
they wouldn't have fought. they would've submitted.
there were no rebels, no earthbenders. just people. just citizens living.
everyone was gone.
she doesn't remember if she screamed, she remembers being held, she remembers holding herself, holding him. she remembers the earth around her as her nails dug into the ground, the ash that now clung to her nails and her skin.
she remembers thinking - she has to do something.
she remembers thinking - this isn't humanity. this is carnage.
and yet, humans have both in them, mercy and compassion, carnage and selfishness. she can't let the latter spread. she can't sit and be idle again.
3. a moment of decision
there's a plan. albeit a very loose one - a dangerous one. and it's based off an assumption of humanity rather than cruelty.
'are you sure you'll be able to keep yourself composed?' dongchen speaks with a softness she's not allowed and she's almost offended but knows she should be grateful. he's trying. all they ever do is try their best. and this is just another indication of that.
"he's not the one who killed my family."
dahee was raised on gentle hands. in a gentle village with gentler people. people who'd known each other for generations. people who'd helped each other and raised each other on the priorities and values of a kingdom that looked the other way and ignored them. she wouldn't betray those values. not in the face of this man.
in front of the other, the one who'd carried out the order, she wasn't sure. but for now - she wouldn't. she'd remember who they were, honor who they were for the man who had a little bit of it in him.
or so she hoped.
the stronghold came into view the closer they rode, and she tries to remember who she is so she doesn't sacrifice it for her anger. she won't. she has a mission now, and a people that live on with her.
there are two sides to humanity.
it's important how one chooses to use each.
and she'll remember which to use with who.