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On the Clearest Night: 1K Followers Special

So, I hit 1K followers! For a while, I really didn’t think I’d get to this point, but I did it! Somehow… Do I get a trophy or a cash prize or….? In honor of this illustrious occasion, I’ve reached out to my 1,000th follower and asked them if they had a prompt they wanted me to and they chose Painted/Blue. Here’s the result. Thanks to everyone who followed me because of some random post I made and didn’t unfollow me when I didn’t live up to your expectations. Thanks to @iromiak for being number 1,000! Couldn’t have done it without you! And I promise I will continue providing the nonsense you expect from my blog until I get bored and leave forever.

And now! Tonight’s feature presentation:

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On the Clearest Night: 1K Followers Special

So, I hit 1K followers! For a while, I really didn’t think I’d get to this point, but I did it! Somehow… Do I get a trophy or a cash prize or….? In honor of this illustrious occasion, I’ve reached out to my 1,000th follower and asked them if they had a prompt they wanted me to and they chose Painted/Blue. Here’s the result. Thanks to everyone who followed me because of some random post I made and didn’t unfollow me when I didn’t live up to your expectations. Thanks to @iromiak for being number 1,000! Couldn’t have done it without you! And I promise I will continue providing the nonsense you expect from my blog until I get bored and leave forever.

And now! Tonight’s feature presentation:

On the Clearest Night

He couldn’t decide if she was truly a spirit or not. Zuko had come at his father’s request to Jang Hui to investigate the explosion at the arms factory. When he arrived he was confronted by two different versions of the story. The soldiers protecting the armory gave a report of a dark-clad vigilante leading a highly organized team armed with sophisticated explosives acting during the night. The citizens on the other hand told a tale of a river spirit appearing in the form of a beautiful young woman healing the sick, clearing up the river and ridding them of the factory that had nearly destroyed their way of life for good. One side was near rabid with the desire for retribution, and the other side spoke in hushed awe about their savior.

“That’s enough,’ the boy’s mother took his hand and nearly dragged him away from Zuko. She smiled apologetically. "He insists he saw the Painted Lady, but the truth is none of us got a good look at her face. The veil, you know.”

“Idid see,” the boy grumbled unhappily. “Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn’t returned to help us.”

“Then I’m glad she was here,” Zuko said sincerely.

Still, he had a job to do. His father had entrusted him to find out what had happened to one of the most important armories in the country and to bring the guilty parties to justice. To his relief, Zuko was able to clear the half-starved, ragged villagers of any wrongdoing. He made a note with his secretary to have some sort of aid set up for the village. The soldiers from the armory weren’t thrilled about sharing their rations, but it would do until Zuko could get back to Caldera and make more permanent arrangements for relief. He would have to ask his father about assigning a minister to look into how a village like Jang Hui could be allowed to fall so far through the cracks and make sure there were no other such oversights. It was bad enough that he was beginning to hear rumbles of dissent about the draconian conscription laws, the Fire Nation couldn’t afford crisis-level poverty, besides.

Zuko stayed in the village another two days, gathering as many clues and leads as he could. There was something strange about the first-hand accounts from the villagers that he couldn’t quite place. It was as if they were being careful about saying too much. He heard all about the people who had been brought back from the brink of death by the Painted Lady, and about the stores of food that had been laid at the doorstep of the worst-off families. He’d heard about her ethereal beauty, but they all stopped just short of any truly pertinent details.

“The soldiers said that she was human,” a young boy told Zuko. “That she was from outside the Fire Nation, but I saw her! Her eyes were silver and she floated on the river with no raft. ”

“That’s enough,’ the boy’s mother took his hand and nearly dragged him away from Zuko. She smiled apologetically. "He insists he saw the Painted Lady, but the truth is none of us got a good look at her face. The veil, you know.”

“Idid see,” the boy grumbled unhappily. “Mama said I would have died if the Painted Lady hadn’t returned to help us.”

“Then I’m glad she was here,” Zuko said sincerely.

The day Zuko was supposed to leave, there was a sudden stir in the village center. A small group had arrived from a neighboring village, having heard about the troubles in Jang Hui. They bore what scant supplies they could spare and interesting news.

“We’ve been visited by the Painted Lady,” a middle-aged woman said as she passed out blankets and farming tools. “She cured a few that was ailin’, and then she told us that you lot would need some help to finish getting back on your feet.”

“You spoke to her?” Zuko asked, pushing his way forward to the newcomers. “Directly?” The woman and her companions blinked in surprise. Someone quickly let them know who he was, and they all dropped down into deep bows.

“Please, you don’t need to do that,” Zuko insisted, somewhat impatiently. “I just want to know if you got a good look at her. Is she a spirit or is she human?” The villagers of Jang Hui stilled and seemed to hold their breath. Zuko tried not to notice.

“I can’t say any of us got a good look at her, your highness,” the woman said hesitantly. “There was a heavy fog, and she was covered from head to toe in a long, flowing robe. All any of us who were there could see was something glowing in her hands when she touched the sick, and the red markings along her arms. Then she was gone as if she’d never been there.” Someone behind Zuko let out a breath that sounded like a relieved sigh. His mouth pulled down slightly at the corners. It seemed he had gotten as much information out of Jang Hui as he was likely to get. He asked the newcomers where they’d come from, and he ordered his men to prepare to follow that trail at dawn the next day.

That night, Zuko’s men went to bed early in preparation, but Zuko couldn’t turn in quite yet. He made his way to the edge of the river. He’d been told that up until a few days before, it had been thick and dark with the sludge from the factory. It was unfishable, undrinkable, and useless for anything except disposing of waste, but it was the lifeline of the village. Tonight the water was still murky, though Zuko could make out the riverbed in the shallow water. In a few days more, it would run clear again. Zuko frowned. Had his father known that this factory had almost killed a village?

A rustling in the bushes behind him startled Zuko. He had spun around into a defensive crouch before he really registered what he’d heard. An elderly man, who Zuko had seen lurking near the edges of his conversations with the villagers, approached. He was frail-looking, all bent and leathery with his skin stretched tightly across knobby, arthritic bones. Zuko didn’t think he was a threat, but he didn’t let his guard down either.

“Do you need something?” he asked uncertainly.

“I wanted a chance to speak to you,” the old man said. “I didn’t think I’d get to before you left in the morning, but I think perhaps I’m meant to after all.” Zuko stared at him in confusion for a moment.

“What do you need from me?” he asked, not impolitely.

“I just wanted to say that in all the years we’d been begging for help from Caldera, this was the first time we’d felt we’d been heard.”

“Oh,” Zuko dropped his fists and shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “I…I just wish we could have done more. When I get home, I’ll look into a longer-term solution-”

“I am certain you will,” the man cut him off. “And we would be grateful, but that’s not what I meant. When the Painted Lady arrived, we were in the middle of dying, your highness. She found several of us breathing our last, and she saved us. Then she got rid of the source of our ills and gave us a second chance to perhaps thrive once again. As I’m sure you can imagine, we’re a bit protective of our protector.” Zuko’s shoulders slumped. He was suddenly exhausted. All he wanted was to go home to his own bed and forget all about Jang Hui. He was certain this old man had much the same wish.

“I have to know who she is,” Zuko said, almost apologetically. “If she’s a spirit, I have to let the Fire Lord know so we can send the sages to look into this and figure out how to keep her happy. And if she’s human…I know she was trying to help, but this,” Zuko gestured to the looming husk of the factory. “I can’t let her- or them- get away with this. I’ll argue for leniency, but this was a crime.”

“I understand,” the old man said, shaking his head sadly.

“Do you know what she was?” Zuko pressed.

“I’m afraid I have no answer for you.” The old man shrugged. “I don’t know any human who could heal the dying, though.”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The next few days were spent chasing rumors and picking up cold trails. It was just like old times, Zuko thought ruefully. Then he promptly shoved that thought away. It was a coincidence. Nothing more.

The Painted Lady had been spotted only once more since the visitors to Jang Hui told their story. Zuko thought he’d come close to an answer in a bustling town where he’d heard about two prisoners escaping a strangely built cell- wood, of all things in the Fire Nation- but there was even less information to be gathered than in the last two sightings. It was enough, though, to make Zuko suspect that perhaps they weren’t chasing another ghost.

In another town, Zuko heard rumors of a spirit that only came out during the full moon and took the unwary in the woods. Zuko thought about investigating, but he soon caught word of another struggling town not too far away. It seemed a likely place for the Painted Lady to appear next. Besides, kidnapping people in the woods was the wrong MO. It was probably animals that snatched up careless wanderers (though perhaps, Zuko thought, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to send someone to investigate soon).

The town that Zuko and his men arrived in was in terrible shape. It was in worse shape than he’d left Jang Hui in. Despite being a farming town in a year with a plentiful harvest, the people were starving. Starvation had been compounded with a wasting sickness that had already claimed what was estimated to be about a third of the population. That was the sanitized version that Zuko and his men had been given, but the young prince suspected that there was more to the story and that knowing more would make the situation look bleaker. But as with Jang Hui, the villagers were tight-lipped and unwilling to give anything up. It was frustrating to Zuko. After all, how could he help if he didn’t know the whole of the problem? Still, he’d gathered enough to know that the Painted Lady hadn’t been through yet, and he suspected it was only a matter of time before she did. It was time to send in someone who might have better luck on reconnaissance.

Zuko had a conversation with the captain of his guard that night. It had been a long journey, he acknowledged. Longer than he anticipated, and he knew that the men were getting anxious. The captain tried to assure Zuko that the men were fine, but Zuko insisted that they needed a break. Just a small one for the evening, and then they could pick up again tomorrow. The men caught a small wooly mountain elk and prepared it for a feast that evening. Someone even brought out a few bottles of strong arrack and passed them around. The feast flared up and fizzled quickly after the first few rounds of drinks, like a firework. Soon the men began to drop off around the camp. Some made it back to their cots and others just lay down where they were and fell into a deep sleep.

Zuko looked over them with a small tinge of guilt as he pulled on the Blue Spirit mask he’d smuggled in his bags. He didn’t spike the bottles with anything harmful, but they would have a hard time waking the next morning. Zuko would be back by then.

The men had made impressive work of that evening’s feast, but there was still a haunch and several smaller cuts of meat left. These Zuko bundled as best he could and carried it off towards the village. Finding the Painted Lady was his main goal, but he was glad to be able to be of use to his people, too.

The food Zuko deposited at the door of the woman who seemed to be the unofficial mayor of the town to be distributed by her the next day. Once that was done, Zuko found a roof and settled in to wait.

It didn’t take long. Zuko had barely settled in his spot when a sudden, heavy bank of fog rolled in. At first, Zuko could see nothing, but he heard someone shuffling along through the mists. His heart caught in his throat when he saw the figure emerging. The light of the half-moon penetrated the fog enough to cast her in a silvery glow. Zuko could see the outline of the flowing robes she wore, and the droplets clinging to her gossamer veil caught the moonlight and made it appear as if she wore diamonds or stars to hide her face. And she was heading right for the house Zuko was on.

She entered quietly, and a moment later, Zuko saw a bluish, silver glow coming through the window. He crept to the edge of the roof and lowered his head and shoulders so he could see. It was just as he’d heard. The glow was coming from the Painted Lady’s hands. She had them pressed to the chest of a young boy who was struggling to breathe. Zuko watched in terrified awe as a long, thin string of phlegm was drawn through the boy’s mouth and discarded in the hearth of the nearby fireplace. When she was done, the boy was breathing easier already. She pressed her hands to his head next, and the boy sighed with relief before falling into a deeper, more restful sleep.

Her task done, the Painted Lady stood and headed back to the door. Zuko scrambled back onto the roof as quickly and as quietly as he could. He kicked a loose tile, causing it to skitter across the roof, but it feel into some bushes below, to his relief. He made back to his original hiding spot mere moments before the Painted Lady reemerged. He waited to see what she would do next. Move onto the next house, he thought, but she stopped suddenly and turned to the exact spot he’d been hiding.

“I know you’re there.” Zuko froze at her voice. He knew that voice. Whydid he know that voice?

“You may as well come out,” she continued. “I mean no one in the town harm, but if you refuse to show yourself, I’ll have to assume you mean harm.” The air grew colder suddenly, and Zuko saw vicious-looking shards appearing in the fog. Reluctantly, he stepped out of the shadows and stood at his full height. The Painted Lady looked up at him, and in the moonlight, he could see the red patterns painted on her bronze skin and a slight frown on her crimson lips. Mostly, though, his attention was caught by her startling eyes. He could just see them past her veil, glowing silver in the moon’s rays.

“I know you,” she gasped in surprise. “You’re the Blue Spirit.”