Dearest Min-Seo,
I don’t know when this letter will reach you, but I’m writing it at the dawn of spring here at the temple. It really is magnificent here, I forgot how picturesque our little corner of the world is. In all honesty, I haven’t returned to my home in years, ever since I was a child. That’s just the way of our people, I suppose. We’re called nomads for a reason. I’m very glad I returned when I did, though. I came just in time to meet Tiya’s new calves (if you remember correctly, Tiya is the companion of my cousin Tsomo. She’s an old girl, and it’s nice to see her settling down).
It’s hard to compete with a baby sky bison, but the little airbenders are pretty close, if quite obnoxious. The elders tell me that I was just like them when I was their age, but my childhood memories consist of much more reading and much less trying-to-jump-off-the-temple-balcony. Have times changed since we were children, or was I a strange child. Further, are children in the Fire Nation this reckless? I will eagerly await your findings so that we might discuss them together.
I know that you haven’t ever visited the temple during springtime. If you can free up the time, the Festival of Yangchen is approaching soon, and I would love to experience it with you. It’s one of the most important Air Nomad holidays, and I would love to let you feel what I did during the Fire Days last summer, but I digress. It baffles me that you’ve only ever found time to visit during the winter, where the weather is objectively the worst. It’s much better in spring like it is now when the baby bison are being born. Have you ever met a baby sky bison? Of course, you haven’t, because you’ve never been to the temple in spring. I know your work keeps you occupied most of the time, but if you can free up a week or two in a few month’s time, I would be eternally grateful. I’m sure your commanding officer will understand, it’s for a religious festival!
Elder Samten has taken full advantage of my presence at the temple and has elected to teach me weaving. It’s as tedious as it sounds- I feel like I’m a child again, except now she keeps asking me about my travels and asking about children instead of telling me to recite my verses. I don’t have the heart to tell her that raising children of my own isn’t in my future for at least a while, but the questions are almost intolerable. She has my best interest, though. I know it. For now, she will have to settle for teaching me to weave, cook and sing while watching me care for the other children at the temple. On a similar note, how is your mother doing? Is she still in good health? Does she ask you about various children in your future? I can’t shake the feeling that old women are the same across the nations.
I hate to wrap up my letter to you so quickly, but I simply don’t have much news for you yet. Life at the temple has been a nice change of pace, it’s quiet and peaceful and moves at a pace I can actually keep up with. I will be eagerly awaiting your reply and answers.
Your Love.
Nyima
Dear Nyima,
Life in the Fire Nation, at least now, is exceedingly dull. I’ve been stationed in guard duty at the capital for the past few months, and it’s a definite change in pace from what I’m used to. The most interesting thing about this post is that I’m in the Royal Palace every day, but even that got boring after the first few weeks. My mother is doing well, and thanks you for asking about her. She has not asked me about children as of late but instead asked me when you and I will be getting married. I told her that the Air Nomads don’t get married. She laughed in my face and said, “Min-Seo, you are not an Air Nomad’.
To answer your other question, I’m fairly certain children are the same in every nation. In fact, here in the Fire Nation, we have to take special precautions to ensure young firebenders don’t accidentally burn their parent’s homes down! I’ve never heard of children jumping off buildings, though, so I’m pretty sure that’s an Air-Nomad-specific occurrence. Tell me more about these children, though. Are they your sisters? What are their names? What are they like? I remember Yonten from our trip to the Northern Air Temple a few years ago. How is he doing?
While I would love to accompany you to Yangchen’s festival this year, I’m not sure if I will be able to. I’ve been stationed here at the palace for the unforeseen future. I can’t believe they put me on guard duty, of all things. I’m pretty sure my family is too high-ranking for this. Maybe Fire Lord Sozin is just paranoid (even though the new Avatar can definitely not come back to haunt him, as they are twelve years old). Either way, I’m probably stuck here till winter, or maybe even until the Avatar turns sixteen and is revealed to the world. Maybe then Sozin can relax and finally accept his old friend’s death, I don’t know. I can still ask, though. Maybe the spirits will smile upon me and allow me to visit you for the festival. We can only hope, though.
It is hard to believe that I’ve never been to your home during the warmer months (only the cold and dismal winter). It’s kind of a shame if I’m being honest. Your descriptions paint it as a paradise under the flourish of spring and summer. If I do not visit by this spring for the festival, I will make sure to come by summer (the bison will still be babies then, I hope). While I’ll do everything in my power to ensure a visit, I must ask you not to hope for much- I’m probably going to be stuck patrolling the southeast wing for the rest of my life. If all else fails, you could probably visit me here. I know it’s not the same, but at least we would be able to see each other again.
I’m sorry I don’t have any more interesting news, my life has been surprisingly dull as of late. I await your response (It will be the only thing I look forward to in this miserable guard existence of mine) and hope you have more interesting news than I do.
My Love to You,
Min-Seo
Dearest Min-Seo,
I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been stationed on guard duty. Mind you, I have no idea how your military works and no frame of reference for what tasks are considered dull, but I will take your word for it. It can’t truly be that bad, anyways, as I now am no longer fearing your death in battle. In the palace, you’re safe from bandits, which is always a good thing to be. I’m glad to hear that your mother is well, and I wish for you to pass this message along to her: While it is not within Air Nomad custom to marry, I may make an exception in the case of your daughter. However, she would have to make equal retribution by doing something to participate in my culture, such as giving up her earthly ties to travel the world with me. I will await her answer with anticipation.
As for the children, there are too many of them to really go into much detail. Some of them are my sisters, while others are not. I teach them poetry and airbending each morning- my favorite students are Songtai and Tashi, Sister Kaya’s twins. You also mentioned remembering Yonten, did you know he’s expected to get his mastery tattoos this coming summer? If you can’t attend Yangchen’s Festival, maybe we can travel north together for that. I know he would love to see you there- he mentions you in every letter he writes me. I desperately want to share an Air Nomad holiday with you, but I know that your work takes priority. It doesn’t matter if you can’t make it this spring, or even this summer. There will be endless festivals to come in the future. We have all the time in the world.
I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, but the elders at the Southern Air Temple have actually identified the Avatar a few years early. He’s a young boy named Aang (twelve years old exactly, just like you said), and I had the honor of meeting him a few months ago. He’s very kind and compassionate, and I know he will grow into a great Avatar soon. He’s even mastered airbending already, at such a young age! It’s incredible. Hopefully, you will get to meet him too, someday.
Even if you cannot make it to Yangchen’s Festival this year, I will await your response. I hope that the spirits smile upon us and that this letter brightened the dullness of your day-to-day routine.
Your Love,
Nyima
Dear Nyima,
Words cannot express how grateful I am to hear from you. To be honest, not much has changed in the time since I’ve last written to you. I told my mother your message, she did not take it too kindly. Her response only makes your offer more enticing, though I can’t take it up yet. For now, I am shackled by the honor of my family. I wish my mother would’ve had another daughter so that I might run away with you.
After sending my last letter, I was reprimanded by my captain for criticizing our nation’s leadership, which unfortunately means my letters are being monitored. There’s more I wish I could say, but I’m afraid I might lose my head for it. One of the guards on duty disappeared a few nights ago after speaking ill of Fire Lord Sozin. I do not wish to be next, but I need you to know even a part of what I do.
Fire Lord Sozin is planning something large and important to happen over the summer. I don’t know all that it entails, only that it involves the Avatar and might be dangerous. I don’t think I will be able to visit for Yangchen’s Festival, or Yonten’s tattoo ceremony. In fact, I’m probably stuck in the Fire Nation for the foreseeable future. I’m sorry this is brief, and for the news I have to share. Stay safe, keep an eye on the news coming from the Fire Nation, and don’t come south until the turn of autumn. I wish I could tell you more.
My Love to You,
Min-Seo
Dearest Min-Seo,
The news you have sent troubles me. I know you said you could not say more, but I need to ensure your safety. What is going on? Could you tell me in person if I came down to the Fire Nation? I know you told me not to, but I need to know why. I haven’t told any of the temple elders of the news you’ve sent yet, but I will if you so request it. Write back soon, please.
Your Love,
Nyima
Dear Nyima,
Tell the elders what I told you. Don’t come down here. I’m safe, but I can’t ensure that you will be.
I found out what Sozin’s planning, at least in part.
[This Message Has Been Censored by the Fire Nation Bureaucratic Center]
I might get in trouble for this, but I don’t care. I need you to say safe. Please, Nyima. Tell the temple elders. Tell any airbender you can. I need you to say safe, all of you.
Stay Safe,
Min-Seo
Dearest Min-Seo,
I told the elders what you told me in your first letter, but your second was intercepted and censored by the bureaucracy and I wasn’t able to read it. We cannot prepare for a threat we don’t know, please respond. I want to get in touch so you can tell me in person. Are you alright?
Concerns,
Nyima
Min-Seo,
Please respond to me! I need to know if you’re ok, and what I should do. I’m not going to leave the temple, but I need to understand what’s going on. Please.
Nyima
Nyima,
If this gets to you in time, leave the temple. Run.
Min-Seo
The blaze started when the sky turned red. The sight of it distracted the children from their lesson and, no matter how much Nyima tried, she couldn’t refocus her students after they saw the comet trail across the sky, leaving a path of fire in its wake. She couldn’t refocus herself after seeing it. Then, the gongs rang.
The crops were the first to be burnt, messages given very clearly by the farmhands who had survived the blast. The survivors screamed to run and evacuate the temples, but they didn’t need to- the tattered, burned state of their robes and the burn wounds they had suffered told a story enough.
“What’s going on?” Nyima asked as her students huddled around her. She couldn’t tell what the children were afraid of.
“The firebenders.” One of the farmers- Tseten- uttered. “The firebenders- they’re here to kill us.”
The words took too long to set in. Nyima couldn’t believe the fact that firebenders- Min-Seo’s people- would be here to kill them. It didn’t make any sense. The only thing she could say was, “Why?”
“I don’t know.” Tseten looked over her shoulder at the burning horizon- golden both in the light of the comet and of the fire destroying it. “We need to leave. Now. We need to evacuate the temple.” She moved closer to Nyima and the children. “We don’t have time to ask any questions.
“But they can’t!” Nyima stammered. “They can’t reach us up here in the temple, not with an army. It’s-”
Nyima cut herself off when she realized she was being proven wrong that instant. Just as she was uttering the words, a battalion’s worth of firebenders landed on the balcony, stepping on pillars of flame. Nyima didn’t have time to react to the soldier’s presence- like spirits of death descending from the heavens- before they sent a unified blast of fire at her and her students.
Just before the flame hit her, Nyima extended her hands to create a shield of wind just strong enough to divert the flame away from her students. The force of the motion sent her backward until she fell to the ground, definitely bruising her shoulder. As soon as she gathered the strength to stand up, she faced her students and shouted, “RUN!”
After watching the young airbenders evade the flame in the direction of the bison stables, Nyima turned back to the firebenders. She sent a forward gust of wind at them before they could react and maintained it as long as she could, trying to keep the soldiers away from her, the temple, and the children. She only broke concentration at the sound of a scream. A child’s scream.
Before she knew it, Nyima was forced backward by a jet of white-hot flame. It hit her in the shin, clawing and devouring the fabric of her dress. She shook off the flame and ran- not in the same direction as her students but into the temple. There were still people inside- she needed to save the children, the elders, the mothers. She needed to save them.
Nyima realized she was being followed all too late, when the hallway she was running through was set ablaze by what could only be firebending. Caught off-guard by the sudden flame, she fell to her feet across the floor, only narrowly missing falling in the fire itself. Ignoring the pain all over her body, Nyima forced herself to look up and face her enemies.
There were two of them- both Fire Nation soldiers, a man and a woman. The man was a stranger to her, but she recognized the woman. Even bathed in the golden firelight, she could still recognize Min-Seo’s delicate, angular features.
“Min-Seo!” Nyima exclaimed. She could feel the rapid beat of her heart, almost hear her own haggard breathing over the crackle of the fire. Min-Seo was here. Min-Seo could help them. “Min, please. Please, I need to get to the elders. I need to save them. Please, what’s going on?”
The man looked between the two of them, as if to ask if they knew each other.
“Nyima… I’m sorry.” Min-Seo whispered. “I tried to warn you, but-”
“Eliminate her.” The man ordered, his voice stern. He didn’t have to repeat himself. Min-Seo’s hand went to her scabbard- the jian blade she wore on her belt. Nyima didn’t need the power of the spirits to know what came next. She lept to her feet and dodged the first swing of the sword, but was faced with a wall of flame and no escape. The sound of a clang echoed in her head as the sword made impact with her skull. Her knees buckled, she fell over. Blood poured both from the fresh wound on her head and from her mouth as she coughed it up. The air was so dense with smoke, she could only barely make out Min-Seo’s form as the firebender crouched over her.
“Swordplay? On this night, this hour?” The man scoffed. “You really are as sloppy as they said. Try this next time.” With a quick extension of his hand, the man ignited the tapestries lining the walls- the weavings Nyima and her peers had spent so long handcrafting, the stories of their ancestors told in their art. It became clear to her that Tseten had been right- except she had been underestimating the reality. The firebenders weren’t just there to wipe out the people of the temple- they were there to destroy any remnant of their existence.
“Min-Seo, please.” Nyima propped herself up as best she could to look her lover in the eyes. Min-Seo wasn’t like them. She could help them. There was no way she would betray her like this. She couldn’t. “Min-Seo, I-” She coughed out blood. “I know this isn’t you. I know you wouldn’t do this. I need your help.”
“Kill her.” The man ordered. “Set her aflame.”
“But-” Min-Seo stammered. “If we leave her here, she’ll die anyway. It’ll save time.” Nyima knew Min-Seo well enough to recognize what she was doing- she was bargaining for Nyima’s life, or at least her chance of a more peaceful death.
“No. The comet has only just begun. We have time.” The man ordered. “Kill her. That’s an order.”
Nyima looked up into her lover’s eyes- beautiful, soft golden eyes that could tell what emotion she was feeling. Nyima had stared into those eyes on a moonlit night when it was just the two of them in a small cabin on Ember Island. Then, there had been love in those eyes. There wasn’t anything behind those eyes now.
“I’m sorry,” Min-Seo whispered, her voice much softer than the flame she held in her hand. “Orders are orders.”
It was not a merciful way to die, being set on fire. Nyima was already burnt and crippled when it happened and had no choice but to curl into a ball on the ground and hope it would be over sooner. The only mercy she was given was that Min-Seo was there with her. Maybe, Nyima considered in her final moments, that wasn’t a mercy after all.
The betrothal hairpiece glinted as Min-Seo held it up in the afternoon window light. Only months after the Great Conquest, her mother had arranged she be married to a wealthy nobleman of a rivaling family. She couldn’t object anymore.
“Are you sure about all of this?” Min-Seo turned to her mother, sitting casually in the library. “Doesn’t it all seem… I don’t know, too soon?”
“Too soon since what?” Min-Seo’s mother narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing.” Min-Seo returned her gaze to the window. She was facing north, which meant that- she had to stop mentally calculating the direction she was facing in relation to the Air Temples.
“By the way,” Min-Seo’s mother added. “This is just a rumor, but I heard from a friend that Admiral Jung is thinking of giving you a promotion. You’d become a lieutenant.”
“Re-really?” Min-Seo stammered. “Why?”
Min-Seo’s mother shook her head and muttered to herself, as if she couldn’t fathom her daughter’s ignorance. “For your exemplary performance at the Great Conquest. They say you killed more of the enemy than any other soldier there.”