The temples, in their ancient, glorious, burning state, glistened in the light of the evening as the comet’s light faded from the sky. It would’ve been a magnificent sight, had it not been for the occasion it was. In actuality, once the historians looked closer at the paintings and records of these moments, they would see the bodies of innocents strewn across the temple, the burning texts and scrolls, the revelry of the victors as they counted the bodies. They would see the carnage, the death. It was a massacre, so much so that whoever was in charge of the whole thing wouldn’t notice the absence of two pawns in the game- a soldier- or, a deserter now- and a woman who was supposed to be dead.

It was hard to get Nyima out of the temple, with everything going on. Of all the Air Temples, the Western lent itself to the least amount of easy escapes and the easiest to be filled with thick, dense smoke. The more maze-like halls Min-Seo wove her way through, with Nyima unconscious on her back, the more certain she became that the ancient air nomads that designed the structures weren’t planning for this to happen. She didn’t blame them. No one could’ve foreseen this happening, except for the Fire Nation themselves. Min-Seo knew, and she had failed to save them all. She knew, and she was doing all she could to make up for it.

There were tunnels leading out of the temple- Nyima had told her about them once- but traveling up through them was one of the worst options. There would be forces waiting for them outside the temple exits- Min-Seo personally knew the soldiers who were waiting at the tunnel’s mouths. To think that they had even a chance of surviving that encounter was optimistic. It was optimistic to think they would even survive getting through the tunnels- they’d both suffocate from the dense smoke halfway through. She had to find a better way through.

The bison stables also weren’t an option. It was natural, the tacticians and leaders had said during the mission briefing, that the Air Nomads would flee to the stables at the first sign of attack, to escape in the air. Which was why they had enlisted the help of a combustion-bending assassin to shoot any bison out of the sky. Even if there were bison left, they wouldn’t survive more than five minutes midair. That only left them one choice- scaling down the cliff on foot.

Min-Seo ran away from the massacre as much as she could. Unlike the Air Nomads fallen at her feet, she had the upper hand here- she knew the Fire Nation’s tactics. She traveled through the temple’s layered balconies and delicately stepped over the bodies as quickly as she could. Min-Seo had to remind herself that she couldn’t save them all. There were too many- children and elders and people, none of whom deserved to die. She had to remind herself that most of them were already dead. The Fire Nation had started their assault on the southern ridge, which meant that now, a few hours into the massacre, the number of living people there was minimal. In all the chaos and bloodshed, it was likely no one would notice one soldier disappearing into the fray.

It was a long way down- Min-Seo almost got dizzy looking down into the chasm below. Luckily- there wasn’t anyone there. The soldiers had approached on dragonback and on jets of flame. The number of ground forces was minimal, in part due to their impracticality during the situation. If they climbed and fled northeast, picking up a boat on their way there, they had a chance at surviving. It was their only chance at surviving.

Min-Seo set Nyima down on the balcony, resting her against the balustrade. The airbender groaned at the movement and blinked awake. “Mi-min?”

“Shh-shh.” Min-Seo hushed Nyima by putting her hands over her mouth. Nyima didn’t protest. “I need you to stay quiet for now. We can’t let them know you’re alive.”

“What? Who?” Nyima whispered. She glanced around herself before settling on looking into Min-Seo’s eyes. “What’s going on?”

Min-Seo glanced behind her shoulder. “I’ll have to tell you later. We need to leave the temple, now.” After a moment too long spent fumbling around her tool belt, Min-Seo finally found what she was looking for- the army-standard length of rope that had been issued to her with her uniform. For the first time since she had received it, the heavy-duty, flame-resistant cord would be useful. Min-Seo anchored the rope to the railing and, after securing that it would hold, picked Nyima up again. “You good?” Nyima grunted in reply and wrapped her arms around Min-Seo’s body.

“Alright.” Min-Seo glanced once behind her again before starting to climb down the rope. It hit her that, there, she was abandoning everything she knew. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing could go back to normal after this, no matter what she did. Min-Seo realized she was stalling too long, and started to climb down the cliff.

Nyima didn’t wake again for a full day, until they were a ways down the canyon’s river and far enough away from the temple that if Min-Seo looked up to the horizon, she could only barely see the smoke coming from the horizon.

“Wh-what happened?” Nyima groaned as she braced herself on the walls of the small boat Min-Seo had stolen. She took a moment to take in her surroundings, then to Min-Seo, wide-eyed and afraid. “Min?”

Something stopped Min-Seo from replying, like a knife to her throat, pushing against her vocal cords. “I- I’m so sorry, Nyima.” Tears formed in her eyes as her voice broke. Her grip on the oar she was holding tightened. “I- I’m so sorry.”

“Min-Seo, what happened?” Nyima pleaded. Her voice was no less strong for her weakened state, but her appearance did not match it. There were burns across all her extremities- her fingers, her hands, her arms. The injury probably didn’t stop underneath her tattered robes, but Min-Seo had been too focused on escaping to check. Her hair was a mess- most of it damaged from the heat and flame. Her once-vibrant arrows had been covered in skin-deep burns and soot. It was hard to recognize her as the woman Min-Seo had seen under the light of the moon years ago.

“I-I’m sorry.” Min-Seo closed her eyes and turned to the canoe’s flooring. “I- the Fire Nation army was sent to exterminate the Air Nomads. I couldn’t-”

“What?” Nyima screamed. Min-Seo feared she might be heard by any soldiers patrolling the area. “You mean- you mean you were really here to kill us? Why?”

Min-Seo shook her head. “I- I don’t know. I was just following orders, but… I couldn’t let you just die.” She couldn’t kill her.

“We… we need to go back.” Nyima collected herself and moved to the back of the boat, closer to both Min-Seo and the temple they were fleeing from. “We need to go back. We need to save them.”

“We can’t.” Min-Seo stated as softly as she could while still remaining forceful. She lifted up her oar in between herself and Nyima. “We only barely made it out alive as it is, returning would be a death sentence.”

“But-” Nyima whimpered. “But the elders, the children-”

“They’re gone already.” Min-Seo forced out. “Most of the temple residents were killed during the attack. I- uh, saw it myself. If they aren’t already dead, they’re dying as we speak. And- and the area will be heavily patrolled for any returning survivors for the next coming months.”

“But-” Nyima collapsed into a sob. She buried her face into her dirtied hands. “But they can’t be all gone! They can’t-”

“The Fire Nation doesn’t leave any survivors.” Min-Seo stammered. “It was- it was the comet. It enhances firebending tenfold. I- there was nothing you could do. I’m so sorry.”

Nyima looked back up, at a point beyond Min-Seo. She knew she was looking at the temple on the horizon, or at least what remained of it. “Why? Why would you do this?”

Min-Seo followed Nyima’s gaze to the smoke rising from the horizon. If her mother, or her superiors, or any of her countrymen were here, they would have the same question, though about a different matter. “I don’t know. It’s- I was trying to warn you about it earlier when I first found out about the mission. The government intercepted my letters and censored them. I’m sorry. I don’t know why the Fire Nation is doing this, I just- I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Nyima wrapped her arms around her body. “They’re- they’re all gone? They- they killed the children… the elders. They were killing the Sky Bison… why would you do this to us?”

Min-Seo didn’t have an answer. All she could offer her lifelong companion was a weary gaze and the same two words she had been repeating ever since it happened. “We’re pretty far from the temple now. I think it’s safe to stop for a bit.”

Nyima didn’t respond but for her sobbing. Min-Seo took it that her friend didn’t have any objections to the idea, and pulled their boat over to the side of the creek, where they could rest for the moment. Once the boat was wedged deep enough into the silt that Min-Seo could be sure it wouldn’t drift in the current, she led Nyima out onto the riverbank. The airbender didn’t object.

“Are you… feeling alright?” Min-Seo asked as Nyima sat down next to the water.

Nyima didn’t respond, but wrapped her arms around her legs.

“Nyima, I need to know how injured you are.” Min-Seo sat down next to Nyima. “If your burns get infected-” she retracted her hand when Nyima flinched at her approach.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” Nyima’s voice faltered with tears.

“I don’t want you to die. I’m going to check on your wounds.” Min-Seo said, taking Nyima’s hand in her own. The airbender didn’t object as she cleaned off the soot, dirt, and dried blood from her wound and wrapped her hand in gauze. The motion was methodical as Min-Seo performed it, having performed it in training and in combat a hundred times over. Burns were some of the most common injuries in combat, she had noticed. “Nyima… I’m so sorry. I can’t say it enough.

Nyima didn’t respond, keeping her gaze focused on the gentle flow of the river.

“I know it can’t fix anything, but I want you to know how terrible it all makes me feel.” Min-Seo said as she finished tying the bandages around Nyima’s foot.

“You feel terrible?” Nyima spat, moving away in a motion too quick for her injuries. She winced before glaring up at Nyima. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you wiped out an entire culture. My culture.”

“It wasn’t my choice!” Min-Seo pressed her hand to her forehead. “I never chose to do it! I could only do so much, part of which means saving you! Look- I don’t want the culture of the Air Nomads to die with you. So I’m going to make sure you live through this. Things are more than terrible right now for us, and I know it’s my fault, but if this is what I can do to make it up to you, and your people, I will.”

Nyima turned to Min-Seo just in time to see her unsheath her dagger and hold up so that they could both see it. “Min…” Nyima whispered.”

“For failing to stand against the treasons of my people,” Min-Seo announced, putting the knife at the base of her topknot. To her surprise, the words came naturally to her, as if the poets of the ages were speaking through her voice. “For failing to uphold the honor of my family, and for aiding in the destruction of innocents.”

The motion was swift and clean, and quicker than Min-Seo was anticipating. She caught her severed topknot and unraveled the red silk ribbon it had been bound with before letting the hair flow down the river, then set to shaving the rest of her head. Nyima didn’t say anything until Min-Seo had shaved her hair close to her head and rested the knife in front of them, then dropped into a deep, apologetic bow, setting her hands apart. She could only just hold the posterity of formality, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I… I can’t apologize enough. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Nyima didn’t accept the apology, but Min-Seo wasn’t expecting her to. The moment passed in quiet, intimate, static silence, and Min-Seo resumed her sitting position.

“Where are we going to go?” Nyima asked, still not looking at Min-Seo.

Min-Seo returned her knife to her belt and followed Nyima’s gaze, watching their canoe bob up and down in the gentle flow of the stream. The sunlight was fading into the golden hour, meaning it had been a full day since the massacre. It still seemed unreal. “I think we should head to the Earth Kingdom. We…if you stay in the Fire Nation, you’ll die. They’ll find you and hunt you down. So we need to head east, maybe alongside the northeastern coast of the Earth Kingdom, I was thinking. We can head out there and buy some land, maybe start a small farm and live as long as we can. Somewhere small and rural and far away from the rest of the world.”

“The northeastern coast of the Earth Kingdom…” Nyima repeated. “Like, around Chameleon Bay?”

“Yeah, somewhere around there, maybe. We might go a bit north, to somewhere less populated.”

“I’ve never been to that region. It’s not close to any of the air temples.”

“That’s kind of the point…” Min-Seo leaned back on her wrists to angle her face towards the sky. “They’ll be scouring all the temples for survivors. It’s best if we go somewhere far away from them, so we’re not found.”

“Do you really think… we’ll be able to make it?”

“Maybe.” It was an optimistic guess. They couldn’t afford to rely only on optimism. “We need to make a plan. The first thing we need is food and medical attention, and to get out of the Fire Nation. I can sell my armor, that might get us enough money to book passage up to the Northern Water Tribe. I have some money on me, and if I don’t have enough we can just sell my armor. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to stowaway on a trade boat.”

“Maybe.” It was an optimistic guess. They couldn’t afford to rely only on optimism. “We need to make a plan. The first thing we need is food and medical attention, and to get out of the Fire Nation. I can sell my armor, that might get us enough money to book passage up to the Northern Water Tribe. I have some money on me, and if I don’t have enough we can just sell my armor. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll just have to stowaway on a trade boat.”

Nyima paused before responding. “You’d sell your armor? For us?”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice.” Min-Seo shrugged. “And it won’t be useful where we’re going. Things are going to have to change, for both of us.”

Nyima nodded, but didn’t reply. Min-Seo figured she would have to get used to the silence.