âAnd then, in that uncertain moment when I knew not where to turn, you appeared, as if by fate, and guided me forward.â
She hadnât expected the answer to come with conditions, but it wasnât like she minded. Kiara didnât even notice the slight breach of etiquette when he perhaps spent a bit too long looking at her. Those things were different up North; she simply assumed that everyone in the city was a bit bolder about eye contact and so on than sheâd been taught to be. She was always too straightforward to follow those rules herself. For lack of something better to do with her hands, she slid them into her pockets, giving the question a shrug and the second one a tentative smile. She wasnât exactly sure where this was going, but she wasnât one to turn her nose up at an opportunity she hadnât even considered yet.
âI mean⊠itâd be nice to have a job, yes,â she said, tilting her head to the side and considering him for a moment, before her attention was drawn by the woman. It was rather obvious from the fact that they were sitting in the middle of the probending arena that the group she was putting together would have to be a probending team, and Kiara chewed her lip while she considered. If she had her guess, the lady was an earthbenderâshe just had that look about her, like, nice as she might be, there was no getting her to budge on the important things. It helped that her friend so obviously was not an earthbender. What little she knew about probending allowed her to deduce that he bent fire if anything at all. Interesting⊠sheâd never knowingly met a firebender before, and maybe only one or two earthbenders.
She hesitated for a moment, glancing back and forth between them. âIt sounds like a nice idea, but⊠I donât really know anything about probending. I was just here to drop off my landlordâs betting sheet. I guess if thatâs okay with you, then Iâd be happy to, but Iâd understand if you want someone with more experience or knowledge about these things.â Still, she couldnât help but feel that this was somehow the right thing to be doing. That this was written somewhere in her stars. These peopleâshe knew not the first thing about them, but she could tell already that, with time, she could grow to like them. She wondered if they might grow to like her as well.
Remembering something abruptly, she blinked almost as if surprised. âOh! I forgot to say: My name is Kiara. Kiara Kita, of the Northern Water Tribe. Or, well⊠I was once. Sâpose itâs just Kiara now.â She smiled, and there wasnât any great sadness underlying it. The comment had been offhand, but trueâshe had given up her claims to her familyâs position when she left. She did not regret it, though she did occasionally miss them even so.
âI mean⊠itâd be nice to have a job, yes,â she said, tilting her head to the side and considering him for a moment, before her attention was drawn by the woman. It was rather obvious from the fact that they were sitting in the middle of the probending arena that the group she was putting together would have to be a probending team, and Kiara chewed her lip while she considered. If she had her guess, the lady was an earthbenderâshe just had that look about her, like, nice as she might be, there was no getting her to budge on the important things. It helped that her friend so obviously was not an earthbender. What little she knew about probending allowed her to deduce that he bent fire if anything at all. Interesting⊠sheâd never knowingly met a firebender before, and maybe only one or two earthbenders.
She hesitated for a moment, glancing back and forth between them. âIt sounds like a nice idea, but⊠I donât really know anything about probending. I was just here to drop off my landlordâs betting sheet. I guess if thatâs okay with you, then Iâd be happy to, but Iâd understand if you want someone with more experience or knowledge about these things.â Still, she couldnât help but feel that this was somehow the right thing to be doing. That this was written somewhere in her stars. These peopleâshe knew not the first thing about them, but she could tell already that, with time, she could grow to like them. She wondered if they might grow to like her as well.
Remembering something abruptly, she blinked almost as if surprised. âOh! I forgot to say: My name is Kiara. Kiara Kita, of the Northern Water Tribe. Or, well⊠I was once. Sâpose itâs just Kiara now.â She smiled, and there wasnât any great sadness underlying it. The comment had been offhand, but trueâshe had given up her claims to her familyâs position when she left. She did not regret it, though she did occasionally miss them even so.
âA boat without an anchor will but drift out to sea.â
Elsewhere in the city, a youth with mournful golden eyes sat across a table from a middle-aged man, a pot of tea between them. The man, a middle-class merchant who dealt mostly in mechanical parts, was known to the youth not because of his job, but for the fact that in his off-hours, he was a high-level lieutenant in the Equalist movement. To anyone looking in from outside, it would look like two friends having tea and a conversation, or perhaps an uncle and his nephew. But it was neither of those things, and there was little warmth in anything but the tea itself.
âI take it this is to be taken care of tonight?â The youth asked, his voice low and rich. There was a faint whisper to the edges of it, like his words were part of the air itself. The man nodded simply, procuring an envelope from the inside of his jacket, and handed it over to the younger one. A faint chime sounded as he moved forward to accept the document, perhaps from the clinking of one of the golden hoops in either ear. His hands were callused, bespeaking hard work, but the pattern to the roughened skin was not indicative of farm tools or manual labor. They were the work of a sword-hilt, and there was no mistaking that for anyone who knew of such matters.
Producing a small blade from somewhere in his loose sleeve, the youth flicked it over the top of the envelope, slitting the wax seal that held it closed. Quickly scanning the contents, he nodded succinctly, leveling his gaze for the first time on the older man. âThe usual fee, and it shall be done.â The older fellowâs thin lips turned down in an unhidden frown, but the youth did not care. Not many of the Equalists were paid for their work, but Ghost was not an ordinary Equalist. He seemed able to go where other men could not, achieve what they thought impossible. He stained his hands, sometimes with blood, sometimes only with other dark things, and in return, much of the secret support the Equalists received from their wealthier supporters went to him. It was impossible to appeal to Amon to end this arrangement, because Amon was the one whoâd set it up. Ghost had little loyalty to the cause, and so his attention was bought, and his discretion with it.
Few knew the real story, but Ghost was not going to tell.
Standing, the masked man took his leave, walking out the front door. By the time the lieutenant had followed him out, interested in where he went, he was already vanished.
âI take it this is to be taken care of tonight?â The youth asked, his voice low and rich. There was a faint whisper to the edges of it, like his words were part of the air itself. The man nodded simply, procuring an envelope from the inside of his jacket, and handed it over to the younger one. A faint chime sounded as he moved forward to accept the document, perhaps from the clinking of one of the golden hoops in either ear. His hands were callused, bespeaking hard work, but the pattern to the roughened skin was not indicative of farm tools or manual labor. They were the work of a sword-hilt, and there was no mistaking that for anyone who knew of such matters.
Producing a small blade from somewhere in his loose sleeve, the youth flicked it over the top of the envelope, slitting the wax seal that held it closed. Quickly scanning the contents, he nodded succinctly, leveling his gaze for the first time on the older man. âThe usual fee, and it shall be done.â The older fellowâs thin lips turned down in an unhidden frown, but the youth did not care. Not many of the Equalists were paid for their work, but Ghost was not an ordinary Equalist. He seemed able to go where other men could not, achieve what they thought impossible. He stained his hands, sometimes with blood, sometimes only with other dark things, and in return, much of the secret support the Equalists received from their wealthier supporters went to him. It was impossible to appeal to Amon to end this arrangement, because Amon was the one whoâd set it up. Ghost had little loyalty to the cause, and so his attention was bought, and his discretion with it.
Few knew the real story, but Ghost was not going to tell.
Standing, the masked man took his leave, walking out the front door. By the time the lieutenant had followed him out, interested in where he went, he was already vanished.