They came for him at dawn, just like they said they would. Not Rangi or Kyoshi, but the members of whatever law enforcement program Makapu had. Yun wasn’t exactly sure what title the armored men outside his door held, because they didn’t tell him. They didn’t tell him much of anything. They woke him by knocking at his door, and told him what was going to happen. Yun answered as calmly and diligently as he could and didn’t complain when they bound his hands too tightly. He didn’t know why.

Even though he had only seen it once or twice before, Yun remembered Makapu’s courtroom. It was a small, dim room, with only enough space to hold a fraction of the village’s population. Even so, the room was packed- the farmers and merchants of the town must’ve caught word that a killer was going to be tried in their very courthouse. Apparently, it was a spectacle worth missing work for.

Yun ignored both the stares he got as he was marched into the courthouse and the humiliation they brought with them, savoring the brief moment in which they didn’t know his name. He was certain that the privilege of anonymity wouldn’t be granted to him for long.

Unsurprisingly, she was there. The Avatar sat amongst her companions, tall and proud. She looked as if she was half expecting a portrait to be made of this moment, and wanted to immortalize herself as stoic and strong, a nonjudgemental spirit bringing justice upon the world. It was disgusting- the impartial, apathetic glance she gave him as she noticed his staring. She didn’t care about the results of this trial, and why would she? She didn’t care about him or his future- and maybe, she never did. All Avatar Kyoshi cared about was upholding justice in the wake of his vengeful, wrathful bloodbath.

The stares on Yun’s back were hot- the anger of people who didn’t know him. They didn’t know who he was or what he had done, and they hated him. They feared him. He relished the feeling. He let them fear them. They should. After all, the very ground below them was his.

During his training as the Avatar, Yun had studied legal systems across the nations, particularly in the various regions of the Earth Kingdom. He had asked Jianzhu why, once, and the Earth Sage had simply declared it necessary information for the Avatar to know, though Kyoshi seemed to be doing fine without it. He had poured hours into memorizing legal codes and customs, all for nothing. Except now, the information was becoming useful. Now, he had foresight.

The trial started with the ceremonious ringing of a gong, calling the attention of everyone in the room- whether they be guilty or innocent. What followed was a long and monotonous reading of Makapu’s code of court, carried out by one of the junior scribes- a young man no older than Yun himself, who stumbled over his words whenever he caught Yun staring at him, as if his looks could kill. It made the proceedings at least twice as long and three times more intolerable.

In his boredom, Yun let his facade lapse and glanced to Kyoshi. If this had been a normal day only a few years ago, perhaps they could’ve laughed about the situation together and spared themselves the mind-numbing boredom, at the expense of a reprimation from their elders. Yun had to remind himself that those times had been a lie. The aching boredom really was getting to his head.

Kyoshi, too, had let her mask fall, or at least let the clay structure chip away. She seemed agitated, especially when she met his gaze, and kept whispering things to Rangi. The latter seemed just as frustrated with the situation as the Avatar did, but Yun couldn’t be certain. He had always had more trouble reading Rangi’s emotions, anyways.

Even though he knew it was coming, the second ringing of the gong- caught Yun off-guard, causing him to stumble in his chair. The guards surrounding him cast wary glances as he collected himself. The humiliation, on top of that of the entire situation, brought blood to Yun’s cheeks.

The soft, hiccuping murmur of the scribe was soon replaced by one Yun dreaded even more- the distinctive, low shuffling of old men entering a room. One by one, the elders and captains of Makapu Village trailed into the stale, dim courtroom, kicking up clouds of dust as they did so. It was as if they were choosing to antagonize Yun more- with both the familiar sterility of his previous life and the sheer sluggishness of the event. It took too long for each juror to take their seat at the bench, and equally as long for the same floundering scribe to utter out each of their lengthy titles before the gong was rung for a third and final time.

The scribe cleared his throat and adjusted his cap. “The accused will now rise and announce their identity.”

Yun took in a breath. The air was stale and dusty, laced with the very earth he commanded. It didn’t bring him any comfort.

He had stalled too long, apparently, because the guard closest to him put his hand to his back and shoved him foreword. Yun collected himself as he fell, then stood up in the most undignified way he thought possible. Though he couldn’t be certain, he thought he saw a smirk growing across the man’s face. Of course. They were taunting him. This trial changed nothing- they were going to kill him either way. They just wanted him to wait it out.

Yun swallowed his pride- it was useless now, anyways, and turned to face the crowd, then the jury. They all stared at him with empty faces, awaiting his declaration.

His first and only instinct was to lie. It wrong- he had never, not once in his life, lied about who he was. Of course, for most of his life, he didn’t need to.

If he lied, Kyoshi would know. Her gaze was like the sun on his neck. She, like everyone else, was waiting.

Yun exhaled. “I am Yun, from Makapu. I am seventeen years old. I have no family name to speak of.” He clenched his teeth. “I am the false Avatar.”

The crowd didn’t erupt into cheers, or chaos, but hushed whispers. At least he was interesting to get people talking.

One of the jurors- the one sitting in the center- cleared his throat and shuffled some papers around infront of him. “State what you have been accused of, Yun.”

It had been a while since he had been referred to as just Yun, at least legally. He closed his eyes- looking at Kyoshi or Rangi would be a bad idea now, especially if he chose Rangi. “I killed people.”

If the initial confession of his identity had stirred the crowds, then this had tipped the cauldron over and spilled its contents onto the ground. The people of Makapu couldn’t believe there was an actual murderer in their presence. Even though he wasn’t watching them, Yun was sure their gazes onto him had shifted.

“How many people, and who?” The juror continued. Yun could tell by the tone of the old man’s voice that he wasn’t expecting him to actually confess what he had done, only vaguely allude to a petty theft or a violent scuffle. Despite honestly being a common value in most places, Yun was fondling that openly admitting to murder wasn’t an admirable trait amongst most crowds.

“I can’t remember them all.” Yun shrugged. There wasn’t much point in lying, at least not with Kyoshi here. And if the farmers here had come for a spectacle, that’s what they would get. “It was too many people, in too short of a timeframe. Not all of them were significant to me.”

The juror sighed and pressed his hand to his temple. “You may rest, Yun.”

Yun nodded and sat down. The complacency made him sick, but he couldn’t do anything else.

“Rise, Avatar Kyoshi.” The juror called out. At his words, Kyoshi stood, causing just as much of a stir as Yun did. He realized that a portion of the audience probably didn’t know of her presence. They had the privilege of seeing the actual, genuine Avatar in their very courthouse.

Kyoshi walked to the front of the courtroom, to stand infront of the jury. She gave the elders a respectful bow before standing up. “I am Avatar Kyoshi, a former friend of Yun’s. I can confirm what he has said is true.”

The juror nodded. “Could you elaborate on that statement?”

“Of course.” Kyoshi diligently replied. She spoke with a measured, strong cadence, the confidence of generations in her voice. “I’ve witnessed Yun killing and attempting to kill on multiple occasions. He has even attempted to kill myself and my trusted companions. You can ask any of my party to confirm what I’ve said, or just ask Yun himself. He’s many things, but a liar isn’t one of them.”

Pathetic. She was spreading information about him without his consent. He was going to start lying now, just to prove her wrong.

The next words out of the juror’s mouth were like the crack of a whip in Yun’s bare skin. “Avatar Kyoshi, what do you think should happen to this man?”

Kyoshi hesitated to reply. “I’m not sure. That’s why I’ve come here.”

The room fell silent, but Yun couldn’t tell if it was actually silence or his own senses blocking out what was happening around him. The air was still and warm- or was it cold? He couldn’t tell the difference between the sweat on his neck and the goosebumps over his arms and the tears of stress welling in his eyes. He feared that if he dug his hands any further into his arms, he would break his own skin. Why was he here? Why was he here? Even Kyoshi, the very person who has brought him here, didn’t know. It was a charade, a game she was playing to give him one last hope, only to crush it in a final, decision. Yun was certain he wouldn’t make it to see the next month before his execution. Kyoshi would be able to live with her regret about the situation. He wasn’t being given the choice.

Like the taunt string of a bow, Yun could feel himself snap.