Fight for Your Right
May 19, 2018 12:43:12 GMT -5
Post by Zula on May 19, 2018 12:43:12 GMT -5
It didn’t take long for a new routine to start to form in Zula’s life.
At first it was only every few nights or so she would leave the confines of her home when she couldn’t stand to be alone with herself and her thoughts. Each time she ended up at one of the triad bars, sitting herself down in a corner, and drinking until she was content and her mind was a little too scattered to really think about what hurt her the most. She found herself instead listening to stories of sailors and spirits, gossip of the city’s worst criminals, or better yet having to watch her back in case someone decided to sneak up on her, whether she was in the bar or leaving it. No matter where she went, Zula trusted no one, and always kept note of her surroundings, intoxicated or not.
These every few nights turned into every couple nights, until Zula found herself to be an all too frequent visitor to the triad bars. Sometimes she drank, sometimes she was content to sit among people and listen to their conversations, just so she didn’t have to sit alone with only the voice in her head to fill the silence. It was an unkind voice, and she did her best to shut it out, as it only acted as fuel to the how much she’d have to drink to drown it out.
As her routine changed, so did her wardrobe choices. She’d stopped wearing her many layers of clothing and opted for what worked best for fighting, as confrontation was all too likely in the city now that she’d immersed herself with the darker parts of it. The look helped her to blend in more, and she didn’t stand out the way she used to with all the markings of Fire Nation nobility. Zula had toned all that down, enough so that she wouldn’t be bothered as much when she did go out and she could be left in peace more often.
For a while it was just the bars that drew her, but the more she remained in the presence of the triads, the farther Zula felt herself drawn into the underground world. A couple weeks after she had begun half living at the bars, she chose to skip the drinking one night and go to a new place. She’d heard the talk about it in her eavesdropping a few days before, and once she’d caught wind of its existence Zula couldn’t turn away. She’d dressed as subtly as possible that night, and made her way following the vague instructions she’d managed to catch from conversation.
After an hour of searching, Zula slipped inside the old factory that held the fighting rings.
It was close to how she had imagined the place; full of gambling, lots of yelling, and plenty of violence. The scent of blood and sweat tinged the air, and Zula curled her nose until she adjusted to the smell and paid it no attention. It was harder to adjust to the atmosphere; the amount of jeering and noise from the fighting was enough to threaten to deafen her, something that was very different from the quiet life she was used to living. Still, it wasn’t enough to scare her out of there, and she wasn’t about to be dissuaded from the brutish, aggressive crowd the rings drew either.
She tried not to look so lost and out of place, and walked around the levels of the factory, peering over the rails to the pits below. After a while of wandering the building and getting a feel for a place, and waiting to see if anyone decided to bother her, she found that the changes she’d made to her clothing seemed to be working in her favor. At least she was becoming more inconspicuous and it was becoming easier for her to be looked over in a crowd. With that helping to ease her wariness, she stepped around a few people so that she could get to a decent spot up in the catwalks, and set herself up to watch the fights.
Zula had always been good at studying, and so she easily applied it to the fights going on below her. She analyzed their moves, the way they went about facing people they knew weren’t going to play fair. Some had great form, others relied on power to get them through, and then there were a few who appeared to be working a strategy out to help them win. Zula noticed that there was a wide range of skill levels present as well, from those who she could see formal training instilled in them and those who had picked up bending on their own, and with plenty of practice. There were people of all kinds in the factory, but she especially noticed the large triad presence that seemed to dominate the place. That didn’t surprise her at all.
As another fight started Zula leaned against the railing, her hands gripping the metal as she peered down at the opponents. It wasn’t any special fight, just two dueling triads who probably had some bad blood with each other. That seemed to be the norm from what Zula had gathered, along with gambling on the bigger and more important prize fights. But what she could not let go of was the fact that anyone, no matter their affiliation, bender or non-bender, young or old, could participate in the fights. As long as this place raked in the yuans, they couldn’t care less where their contenders came from or why they were there.
Zula’s gaze hardened as she watched the battle go on below, the blows unforgiving and swift. Mercy in the ring was weakness, and no one came out completely unharmed. She watched as a waterbender took a hard hit to the face, the non-bender that attacked almost clinching the win in that moment. The bender looked up, her hair in disarray, blood oozing from her lip, before charging forwards again. Mercy may be weakness, but giving up was just as sinful. Both of those facts drove home the idea that quickly took root in Zula’s head.
Studying would only get her so far. The only way she was going to truly learn was if she got in that ring. She reasoned with that for a little while, but she also had to accept something else too: she wanted to fight. Every part of her screamed to get in there and let her emotions go, let herself show the pain and heartache she felt through punching, kicking, and bending. Another voice, one that had been there since her childhood, yelled to throw herself into battle, to fight until she had mastered the art of the streets. Be perfect, her mind said. You have to be perfect.
Even if being perfect was all for nothing, she couldn’t help but ache to try. It was a back and forth war in her mind of what she wanted, even when she wasn’t really acting like the noblewoman that she’d been conditioned to be. Noblewomen didn’t sit in bars, noblewomen didn’t get involved with triads, noblewomen didn’t voluntarily fight for the hell of it. Zula was doing all of those things, and she didn’t really want to stop. No, she wanted to keep going, keep pushing her limits. She would not be taken down so easily ever again, and she would do what it took to make sure she got her way. Whether someone tried to stop her or not, she was getting in that ring.
She didn’t really know if she cared if it killed her.
Getting involved had been the easy part.
There were plenty of young, cocky benders who were more than willing to step into the ring if she looked at them the wrong way. Zula decided it was best to start off with someone that she had the best chance of beating, otherwise everyone would see her fail in the first round and no one would want to bother fighting her again. It wasn’t like she was going for a prize fight, and so she had to make her performance count if she wanted to duel more than once. She analyzed the crowd for quite some time before she made a decision on the person she wanted to provoke; a man who looked to be only a couple years younger than her, and who had been bragging about himself whenever Zula came into earshot of his conversations.
All it had taken was her standing off to the side and giving the slightest roll of her eyes for him to come over to her and ask who she thought she was. When she had said that his stories were exaggerated, he quickly challenged her to the ring. Zula let him talk up his game all he wanted up until the point they actually entered into the arena, where his skills were put to the test. Zula quickly deemed them mediocre, just as she’d determined. She practically danced around the ring with him for some time, using the fight as a warm up, letting herself get used to the movements that she hadn’t done in quite some time. Once she felt confident that she’d worked off a little of the rust, she put an end to the battle quickly, and aggressively.
The whispers among his friend group when she exited were obvious, and Zula bided her time, letting their wounded pride get to them. Soon enough she was challenged again, and the next fight was harder, but Zula still knew her craft better than these untrained individuals who had probably never been in real fights themselves. She at least had a bit of an upper hand, and was able to knock her opponent out with little trouble, and without major injury. Her challenger was not so lucky; Zula wasn’t sure when he’d be back on his feet but he needed to be sacrificed in order for her to make an impression.
Of course, the brutality she gave out was returned to her very soon.
Plenty of people watched the fight, and she’d piqued the interest of quite a few that wanted to show her that she wasn’t so special. Zula accepted the challenges without a hassle, and that seemed to make her the arrogant one in their eyes. She didn’t really care what they thought of her, as long as someone was willing to step into the arena with her. They lined up to face her, and Zula went in, prepared for the worst. And even then, she was not prepared enough for the sheer ruthlessness that she faced.
She wasn’t complaining about the intensity. It was what she wanted after all; someone to really go at her, to not hold back so that she wouldn’t have to either. She wanted to let it all go, and the ring gave her that opportunity with no rules to interfere. However, it also gave her opponents every reason to pummel her without being held back. Even though she was able to hold her ground for more than a minute, Zula still found herself badly beaten at the end of her first real fight, barely able to pull herself off the floor. Her challenger, a waterbender, had thrown one icy attack after another her way, and Zula’s limbs stung from their impact, and she could feel the bruises forming all over her body.
After that she had no choice but to take a break from the ring and rest. She considered going to a healer, she could afford one after all, but she didn’t need questions being asked if she ran into anyone she knew. Zula healed in her home, giving herself the amount of rest that it took so she could move well enough to get by, and then returned to the ring as soon as the sun had gone down. Her arrival was unexpected by those who remembered her from the last fight, and a woman stepped into Zula’s path, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“What are you doing back here?” The woman smirked at her, dark eyes laughing. “Come to get your ass handed to you again?”
“Are you the one that wants to?” Zula stared up at her, calm as ever but fully prepared to goad her if that’s what it took. This woman looked distinctly like someone from the Terra Triad, and she was a good five inches taller than Zula. Her hair was pulled back into a mess on top of her head, but her cut off sleeves revealed the bulging muscle in her arms. Someone who could definitely show her a good fight, and hit her hard.
Exactly what she needed.
The woman raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused for Zula’s liking. “What’s your name?”
Zula froze at the question. On the bright side, no one appeared to recognize or know that she was an ambassador, which left her day job out of her new night life. She didn’t want to give out her real name, as it wouldn’t take much to figure out just who she was and for some rumors to get back to people who didn’t need to know her business. But Zula paused for too long, and the woman frowned impatiently. “Well?”
“Zara,” she answered, the name slipping off her tongue before she could think to stop herself. Hadn’t she already done enough to soil the relationship with her father in life? Now here she was, blackening the name he wanted for her in his death. But it was too late to take it back now. “My name is Zara.”
“Okay then, Zara,” the woman sneered. “Let’s see how much it’s going to take for you to stay down.”
It took a considerable amount of effort for Zula not to smirk in triumph.
Perfect.
Zula’s life became a very simple chain of events with two places to be. The ambassador basically turned nocturnal, sleeping during the day and getting whatever work she needed to be done and getting any other necessities taken care of in the late afternoon hours. At night she’d slip out of her home and head to the fighting rings. When she was too beaten and battered for another round, she skipped the rings and went to the bars to sit and plan her next move, thinking over what she had done wrong. She played the battles over and over in her head, let the noise of the bar be like the background noise of the rings.
Not only did the bar provide a place for her to observe the life of he underground, it also gave her the means to dull the physical pain from fighting. The worst fight she’d gotten in had ended with a boulder to her abdomen, and the force had also slammed her into the wall. The pain was enough that she had no choice but to see a healer for at least one session, which mended whatever major damage had been done. The leftover pain she was willing to handle on her own, and it served as a reminder that even if she was becoming a better fighter, it still wasn’t enough.
That time she almost had it. She’d been so close to winning, but she let herself get taken off guard when it had counted the most. Zula wasn’t there yet, if she was making those kinds of mistakes. How long would it take before she had it perfected, months, a year? She’d do it until she had mastered street fighting, no matter how long it took. Pain she could endure, but failing she could not.
It was what kept her moving as she made her way out of the factory that night, her posture bent as she held her side. The fight had gone better than Zula expected, going up against another firebender. She’d managed to hold her ground and gotten some great hits in, but so had her opponent. The fight was close, to the point where even she wasn’t certain who was going to win, but in the end it had been her who fell first. At least he hadn’t been able to stay on his feet, and she’d been able to get back to hers.
She pushed through a crowd of people standing outside getting some air and made her way down the street, forcing herself to straighten up as she did so, despite how her muscles protested. Even when she’d immersed herself into the underground, so much of her old conditioning was still intact, and that included how Zula carried herself. The mannerisms would probably never fade, but Zula was far from that noble girl in a big city for the first time. She took as deep of a breath as she could manage through the pain, and wiped the blood dripping from her nose on her sleeve.
“Nice fight tonight, Zara,” a voice said from behind her. “Though from all the threatening you like to do, I expected more.”
Zula came to halt, her eyes narrowing as she glanced out of the corner of her eye. That voice was unforgettable, in the way that it grated on her nerves. It had been a long time since she’d heard it, but it still brought all of the distaste she felt towards him to the surface. Of all times, why did it have to be now that they had another run in with each other? The sensible side of her said to just walk away, but Zula turned anyways. “I’m not in the mood, Han.”
“I can change that,” Han replied, taking his hands out of his pockets. They were a decent distance apart, but Zula almost wished he’d come closer so she was in range of hitting him. He smirked once he had her attention, his eyes flickering over her before they found her face again. “You know, I’ve seen a lot in my time here, but I never thought I’d see this.”
Aside from the bruises, Zula looked far from the person she had been a couple months ago. The pride she’d taken in her appearance had disappeared ever since she’d started brawling. Her hair, which she’d used to brush and keep in complete place, now hung limply over her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin had paled from the lack of care she showed her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even bothered to put on makeup.
She was an absolute wreck, and she was sure that it satisfied Han to see her that way.
Zula gave a slight roll of her eyes, “Are you done? I don’t have the desire to deal with you right now.”
“Oh, you know there’s always desire when it involves me,” Han said smugly, then gave a nod to her. “Last time I heard anything about you was a few weeks ago when you got in the way of my Kais.”
“If you’re asking for an apology, I have none to give,” Zula answered. She’d avoided the Boiling Rock since that incident, and she really didn’t think she’d be seeing Han if she stayed out of his territory. Apparently, avoiding him was harder than she thought.
“An apology from your family? Never heard of it happening,” Han said. “What I really want to know is--”
“Hey, Boss!” An Agni Kai called out, running over to him. Han turned, his brow creasing at being interrupted, but Zula didn’t bother to stay around. She used the distraction to slip away, putting as much distance between the factory, Han, and all the bitter memories that were slowly rising at seeing him.
She needed a drink.
Usually Zula didn’t stop at the bars after fighting, but she was more on her feet than usual. Tonight she’d opted for the Full Moon Bar down at the docks. From what Zula could tell she liked the Red Monsoons well enough, and they never gave her much trouble. While the tastes weren’t exactly for Zula, she chose to come here because it reminded her of Zuka. Whenever she was having a particularly rough time handling her sister’s death, to the point that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, she ended up here. This night was no different, and the chance encounter with Han only added to it.
Zula sat down heavily at the bar and ordered herself a drink, pinching the bridge of her nose. While going home was probably the smarter choice, she didn’t want to be there right now, even with a headache starting to take form. She needed to be out, surrounded by other people that she didn’t have to talk to, but she could let their presence keep her from falling apart. Zula had held herself together for so long that she didn’t know how to let it all go, but she liked to take precautions to keep it from happening at all costs.
She sipped her drink, sighing and rubbing her temple with her other hand. What she needed was sleep, and she supposed she’d have to stay in a couple days to try and catch up on it. Zula preferred to keep busy, but she knew her body was to its limit and that if she didn’t get at least an adequate amount of sleep, everything would cave in on her. She stared at the bar top, trying to decide how she was going to spend the next few days, when she sensed someone approach her, and she could see the smirk from the corner of her eye.
“You cannot be serious,” Zula said with a glare as she turned her face to Han. “Isn’t there some sort of rule to keep you out of here?”
She supposed he wasn’t entirely welcome, but the first time they met Han had managed to sneak into the Blue Dragon. If he could get under her sister’s nose, she guessed he really could go anywhere he pleased. Besides, it was Han: if he wasn’t allowed in, he’d just force his way there. From Zula’s experience, he wasn’t one for following the rules. Of course, when you ran with the triads, rules didn’t exactly stick.
“I’m not causing any trouble,” Han replied, sitting himself down in the seat next to her. It was true, so far, but Zula knew better than to trust it. He had a motive, she just had yet to figure it out.
“This is oddly reminiscent,” Zula muttered. What was it with her and ending up in bars with him? It seemed to be where they were constantly meeting, but then again he’d clearly followed her here. This time it was not coincidence or being in the wrong place and the wrong time. It just so happened that the spirits loved to torture her, and so they gave Han the trail and the shirshu went after her scent.
“Keep the liquor in my glass this time,” Han said as he ordered his own drink. “That always kills the mood.”
“What do you want with me?” Zula wanted to either get rid of him as quickly as possible, or leave on her own accord. She would have the moment she saw him, but if he intended to follow her further she didn’t want him figuring out where she lived. The last thing she wanted was him on her doorstep and thinking he could stop by whenever he wanted. It seemed like something he’d do, just to torture her.
“I’m just curious,” Han said, examining his drink, “Your sister dies and you go off the deep end. I knew you were crazy and high strung but I didn’t know it was that bad. You two never seemed close enough that it could drive you insane. But you did let me get between you two, so there’s that. I guess you really are twins.”
Zula tensed, her hands curling into fists as she sat up straighter, a dark look passing over her features. “Do not speak to me about my sister. You don’t have the right.”
Han scoffed, waving his hand as if he could shoo her away. “Please, you’re in no condition to fight me. When are you ever, though?”
To that, she didn’t have a retort. Even back then, Zuka had insisted she didn’t stand a chance against Han. For all the training and the fighting she was doing now, she still wasn’t in the right shape to face him. She remembered the first time they met, and how she had called him pathetic. He must have thought the same of her now, and he probably saw her as nothing more than an empty threat too. Zula couldn’t stand that, and it frustrated her even more that she had no way to prove her capabilities.
Han sipped from his glass, then set it down and looked to her. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but you’re going to get yourself killed. Zuka was the tough one out of you both. You’re just one of those people that needs to be watched over.”
“I don’t want to be protected.” Zula stared him down a moment and then pulled her gaze away, staring intensely into the air before her. She didn’t want to see the laughter in Han’s eyes when she spoke. “Everyone has tried to shield me. My mother, Zuka, they both tried to keep me in the dark one way or another. I’m tired of being in the dark. I’m going to fight my way out of it until I know everything, and no one is going to stop me. I refuse to be ignorant any longer.”
She waited for the laughter, for a smug comment. It was what she was used to when it came to Han, and she prepared herself to have to restrain from launching at him when he tried to provoke her. She waited, but the mocking never came. Instead he leaned forwards with his arms on the bar top, smiling darkly at her. It was one of danger, of knowledge that only he possessed, of someone who had something in his grasp. “You don’t need to get out of the dark, you need to actually step into it. Come run with my triad for a while, and I’ll show you just what this city is really like.”
“Right,” Zula drawled. “I go running around with your triad, and then what? You blackmail me, or use what happens in some way to ruin my job position? When I run out of use for you, what will you decide to do to make sure I never prosper again?”
She shook her head, and then gave a small, bitter laugh, raising her glass to her lips. “Go ahead, take that from me too.”
“Well, those are some pretty fantastic ideas,” Han replied, “And I can’t say that I won’t consider that when it’s all said and done. Even I got tired of Zuka, and I had to do something about that.”
“And the same will be for me in due time,” Zula answered. “I may as well go to the Dolls if I want involved with the triads. At least then, I wouldn’t be going against my sister.”
It was Han’s turn to shake his head, as if he thought of her to be such a fool. “The Dolls aren’t going to let you with them, and they act like they’re so much better than the rest of us. But they aren’t. They just hide behind their apparent good intentions and mask over all the bad with that excuse, which is all you’re going to get if you go to them. It’ll be like Zuka still trying to keep you hidden.”
He leaned in slightly, the smirk sliding back onto his face. “You’re just teetering on the edge of the truth of this city. If you want to know all of it, you’re going to have to embrace it. There is no playing it safe or sitting by and watching it all unfold. If you want this, you have to get your hands dirty.”
Zula said nothing, just watched as Han stood and looked down to her, “I don’t expect you to just jump in right now, so I’m not going to sit here and wait for an answer. You know where to find me if you want to take me up on the offer.”
He turned away and headed out the door, and Zula watched him until he had disappeared into the night. Then she brought her hands to her head, elbows on the table as she stared down into her now empty glass. Upon its first suggestion, Zula had rejected it immediately. She hated Han, despised him more than anyone in her life. Running around with his hot headed, repulsive triad was never something she dreamed about.
But she did need a way in. She’d already crossed into so much that Zuka had wanted her to stay blind to; the bars, the fighting rings, knowledge and association with the triads. Zula had immersed herself so deep already that one more step was like finishing her initiation into this dark and cruel world. When she was already in so deep, what was going the full distance?
She stared down at the glass and she found herself wondering, How far can you fall?
She gave it one day. Then two. Then three.
She mulled it over, thought through the possibilities. The gains. The losses. The pros, the cons.
She thought of what she’d have to do to get out of it when she’d had enough.
The answers weren’t clear cut, and they wouldn’t be from the outside looking in. Zula barely knew what it meant to be involved with a triad, and she had no idea what it would do to her. Certainly it would change her viewpoint, and it would show her the real corruption of Republic City. She needed to see it, there was no doubt in that.
But did she really want to do that with the Kais? Zuka would hate her if she was here. It would be the ultimate betrayal, the worst insult to her twin. They’d always been on opposing sides, but this would drive the wedge deeper, the knife farther into the wound. Firebender or not, it didn’t excuse that Zula would be siding with the man who tried to kill her sister, and tear down her own triad at every turn. If Zuka were here, she’d never forgive her.
But Zuka’s not here. Zuka can’t stop you, the hurt inside her whispered bitterly. If Zuka was here, she wouldn’t even be considering it. Zula was on her own now.
She had no one left to fight for but herself.
Zula pushed open the doors to the Boiling Rock, standing tall, her chin up. She stopped in the middle of the room and spied Han leaning against the bar. Upon her entry he gave the same dark smile that he had the other night and rose up, all heads turning to see where he was looking. The Kais in the room turned to face her, some who knew her glaring, others just watching to see what their leader intended to do about her entry. Zula was not deterred by them, and watched as Han walked over to her, ignoring the rest of them.
“Do we have an agreement?” He already knew the answer, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes. He knew from the moment he suggested it that she was too lost to refuse.
“Yes,” Zula replied coolly, raising her eyes to his. “I accept the offer.”
Han grinned with all the smugness in the world, and, for now, she let him win.
“Welcome to the Agni Kai Triad.”
At first it was only every few nights or so she would leave the confines of her home when she couldn’t stand to be alone with herself and her thoughts. Each time she ended up at one of the triad bars, sitting herself down in a corner, and drinking until she was content and her mind was a little too scattered to really think about what hurt her the most. She found herself instead listening to stories of sailors and spirits, gossip of the city’s worst criminals, or better yet having to watch her back in case someone decided to sneak up on her, whether she was in the bar or leaving it. No matter where she went, Zula trusted no one, and always kept note of her surroundings, intoxicated or not.
These every few nights turned into every couple nights, until Zula found herself to be an all too frequent visitor to the triad bars. Sometimes she drank, sometimes she was content to sit among people and listen to their conversations, just so she didn’t have to sit alone with only the voice in her head to fill the silence. It was an unkind voice, and she did her best to shut it out, as it only acted as fuel to the how much she’d have to drink to drown it out.
As her routine changed, so did her wardrobe choices. She’d stopped wearing her many layers of clothing and opted for what worked best for fighting, as confrontation was all too likely in the city now that she’d immersed herself with the darker parts of it. The look helped her to blend in more, and she didn’t stand out the way she used to with all the markings of Fire Nation nobility. Zula had toned all that down, enough so that she wouldn’t be bothered as much when she did go out and she could be left in peace more often.
For a while it was just the bars that drew her, but the more she remained in the presence of the triads, the farther Zula felt herself drawn into the underground world. A couple weeks after she had begun half living at the bars, she chose to skip the drinking one night and go to a new place. She’d heard the talk about it in her eavesdropping a few days before, and once she’d caught wind of its existence Zula couldn’t turn away. She’d dressed as subtly as possible that night, and made her way following the vague instructions she’d managed to catch from conversation.
After an hour of searching, Zula slipped inside the old factory that held the fighting rings.
It was close to how she had imagined the place; full of gambling, lots of yelling, and plenty of violence. The scent of blood and sweat tinged the air, and Zula curled her nose until she adjusted to the smell and paid it no attention. It was harder to adjust to the atmosphere; the amount of jeering and noise from the fighting was enough to threaten to deafen her, something that was very different from the quiet life she was used to living. Still, it wasn’t enough to scare her out of there, and she wasn’t about to be dissuaded from the brutish, aggressive crowd the rings drew either.
She tried not to look so lost and out of place, and walked around the levels of the factory, peering over the rails to the pits below. After a while of wandering the building and getting a feel for a place, and waiting to see if anyone decided to bother her, she found that the changes she’d made to her clothing seemed to be working in her favor. At least she was becoming more inconspicuous and it was becoming easier for her to be looked over in a crowd. With that helping to ease her wariness, she stepped around a few people so that she could get to a decent spot up in the catwalks, and set herself up to watch the fights.
Zula had always been good at studying, and so she easily applied it to the fights going on below her. She analyzed their moves, the way they went about facing people they knew weren’t going to play fair. Some had great form, others relied on power to get them through, and then there were a few who appeared to be working a strategy out to help them win. Zula noticed that there was a wide range of skill levels present as well, from those who she could see formal training instilled in them and those who had picked up bending on their own, and with plenty of practice. There were people of all kinds in the factory, but she especially noticed the large triad presence that seemed to dominate the place. That didn’t surprise her at all.
As another fight started Zula leaned against the railing, her hands gripping the metal as she peered down at the opponents. It wasn’t any special fight, just two dueling triads who probably had some bad blood with each other. That seemed to be the norm from what Zula had gathered, along with gambling on the bigger and more important prize fights. But what she could not let go of was the fact that anyone, no matter their affiliation, bender or non-bender, young or old, could participate in the fights. As long as this place raked in the yuans, they couldn’t care less where their contenders came from or why they were there.
Zula’s gaze hardened as she watched the battle go on below, the blows unforgiving and swift. Mercy in the ring was weakness, and no one came out completely unharmed. She watched as a waterbender took a hard hit to the face, the non-bender that attacked almost clinching the win in that moment. The bender looked up, her hair in disarray, blood oozing from her lip, before charging forwards again. Mercy may be weakness, but giving up was just as sinful. Both of those facts drove home the idea that quickly took root in Zula’s head.
Studying would only get her so far. The only way she was going to truly learn was if she got in that ring. She reasoned with that for a little while, but she also had to accept something else too: she wanted to fight. Every part of her screamed to get in there and let her emotions go, let herself show the pain and heartache she felt through punching, kicking, and bending. Another voice, one that had been there since her childhood, yelled to throw herself into battle, to fight until she had mastered the art of the streets. Be perfect, her mind said. You have to be perfect.
Even if being perfect was all for nothing, she couldn’t help but ache to try. It was a back and forth war in her mind of what she wanted, even when she wasn’t really acting like the noblewoman that she’d been conditioned to be. Noblewomen didn’t sit in bars, noblewomen didn’t get involved with triads, noblewomen didn’t voluntarily fight for the hell of it. Zula was doing all of those things, and she didn’t really want to stop. No, she wanted to keep going, keep pushing her limits. She would not be taken down so easily ever again, and she would do what it took to make sure she got her way. Whether someone tried to stop her or not, she was getting in that ring.
She didn’t really know if she cared if it killed her.
~
Getting involved had been the easy part.
There were plenty of young, cocky benders who were more than willing to step into the ring if she looked at them the wrong way. Zula decided it was best to start off with someone that she had the best chance of beating, otherwise everyone would see her fail in the first round and no one would want to bother fighting her again. It wasn’t like she was going for a prize fight, and so she had to make her performance count if she wanted to duel more than once. She analyzed the crowd for quite some time before she made a decision on the person she wanted to provoke; a man who looked to be only a couple years younger than her, and who had been bragging about himself whenever Zula came into earshot of his conversations.
All it had taken was her standing off to the side and giving the slightest roll of her eyes for him to come over to her and ask who she thought she was. When she had said that his stories were exaggerated, he quickly challenged her to the ring. Zula let him talk up his game all he wanted up until the point they actually entered into the arena, where his skills were put to the test. Zula quickly deemed them mediocre, just as she’d determined. She practically danced around the ring with him for some time, using the fight as a warm up, letting herself get used to the movements that she hadn’t done in quite some time. Once she felt confident that she’d worked off a little of the rust, she put an end to the battle quickly, and aggressively.
The whispers among his friend group when she exited were obvious, and Zula bided her time, letting their wounded pride get to them. Soon enough she was challenged again, and the next fight was harder, but Zula still knew her craft better than these untrained individuals who had probably never been in real fights themselves. She at least had a bit of an upper hand, and was able to knock her opponent out with little trouble, and without major injury. Her challenger was not so lucky; Zula wasn’t sure when he’d be back on his feet but he needed to be sacrificed in order for her to make an impression.
Of course, the brutality she gave out was returned to her very soon.
Plenty of people watched the fight, and she’d piqued the interest of quite a few that wanted to show her that she wasn’t so special. Zula accepted the challenges without a hassle, and that seemed to make her the arrogant one in their eyes. She didn’t really care what they thought of her, as long as someone was willing to step into the arena with her. They lined up to face her, and Zula went in, prepared for the worst. And even then, she was not prepared enough for the sheer ruthlessness that she faced.
She wasn’t complaining about the intensity. It was what she wanted after all; someone to really go at her, to not hold back so that she wouldn’t have to either. She wanted to let it all go, and the ring gave her that opportunity with no rules to interfere. However, it also gave her opponents every reason to pummel her without being held back. Even though she was able to hold her ground for more than a minute, Zula still found herself badly beaten at the end of her first real fight, barely able to pull herself off the floor. Her challenger, a waterbender, had thrown one icy attack after another her way, and Zula’s limbs stung from their impact, and she could feel the bruises forming all over her body.
After that she had no choice but to take a break from the ring and rest. She considered going to a healer, she could afford one after all, but she didn’t need questions being asked if she ran into anyone she knew. Zula healed in her home, giving herself the amount of rest that it took so she could move well enough to get by, and then returned to the ring as soon as the sun had gone down. Her arrival was unexpected by those who remembered her from the last fight, and a woman stepped into Zula’s path, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“What are you doing back here?” The woman smirked at her, dark eyes laughing. “Come to get your ass handed to you again?”
“Are you the one that wants to?” Zula stared up at her, calm as ever but fully prepared to goad her if that’s what it took. This woman looked distinctly like someone from the Terra Triad, and she was a good five inches taller than Zula. Her hair was pulled back into a mess on top of her head, but her cut off sleeves revealed the bulging muscle in her arms. Someone who could definitely show her a good fight, and hit her hard.
Exactly what she needed.
The woman raised an eyebrow, looking far too amused for Zula’s liking. “What’s your name?”
Zula froze at the question. On the bright side, no one appeared to recognize or know that she was an ambassador, which left her day job out of her new night life. She didn’t want to give out her real name, as it wouldn’t take much to figure out just who she was and for some rumors to get back to people who didn’t need to know her business. But Zula paused for too long, and the woman frowned impatiently. “Well?”
“Zara,” she answered, the name slipping off her tongue before she could think to stop herself. Hadn’t she already done enough to soil the relationship with her father in life? Now here she was, blackening the name he wanted for her in his death. But it was too late to take it back now. “My name is Zara.”
“Okay then, Zara,” the woman sneered. “Let’s see how much it’s going to take for you to stay down.”
It took a considerable amount of effort for Zula not to smirk in triumph.
Perfect.
~
Zula’s life became a very simple chain of events with two places to be. The ambassador basically turned nocturnal, sleeping during the day and getting whatever work she needed to be done and getting any other necessities taken care of in the late afternoon hours. At night she’d slip out of her home and head to the fighting rings. When she was too beaten and battered for another round, she skipped the rings and went to the bars to sit and plan her next move, thinking over what she had done wrong. She played the battles over and over in her head, let the noise of the bar be like the background noise of the rings.
Not only did the bar provide a place for her to observe the life of he underground, it also gave her the means to dull the physical pain from fighting. The worst fight she’d gotten in had ended with a boulder to her abdomen, and the force had also slammed her into the wall. The pain was enough that she had no choice but to see a healer for at least one session, which mended whatever major damage had been done. The leftover pain she was willing to handle on her own, and it served as a reminder that even if she was becoming a better fighter, it still wasn’t enough.
That time she almost had it. She’d been so close to winning, but she let herself get taken off guard when it had counted the most. Zula wasn’t there yet, if she was making those kinds of mistakes. How long would it take before she had it perfected, months, a year? She’d do it until she had mastered street fighting, no matter how long it took. Pain she could endure, but failing she could not.
It was what kept her moving as she made her way out of the factory that night, her posture bent as she held her side. The fight had gone better than Zula expected, going up against another firebender. She’d managed to hold her ground and gotten some great hits in, but so had her opponent. The fight was close, to the point where even she wasn’t certain who was going to win, but in the end it had been her who fell first. At least he hadn’t been able to stay on his feet, and she’d been able to get back to hers.
She pushed through a crowd of people standing outside getting some air and made her way down the street, forcing herself to straighten up as she did so, despite how her muscles protested. Even when she’d immersed herself into the underground, so much of her old conditioning was still intact, and that included how Zula carried herself. The mannerisms would probably never fade, but Zula was far from that noble girl in a big city for the first time. She took as deep of a breath as she could manage through the pain, and wiped the blood dripping from her nose on her sleeve.
“Nice fight tonight, Zara,” a voice said from behind her. “Though from all the threatening you like to do, I expected more.”
Zula came to halt, her eyes narrowing as she glanced out of the corner of her eye. That voice was unforgettable, in the way that it grated on her nerves. It had been a long time since she’d heard it, but it still brought all of the distaste she felt towards him to the surface. Of all times, why did it have to be now that they had another run in with each other? The sensible side of her said to just walk away, but Zula turned anyways. “I’m not in the mood, Han.”
“I can change that,” Han replied, taking his hands out of his pockets. They were a decent distance apart, but Zula almost wished he’d come closer so she was in range of hitting him. He smirked once he had her attention, his eyes flickering over her before they found her face again. “You know, I’ve seen a lot in my time here, but I never thought I’d see this.”
Aside from the bruises, Zula looked far from the person she had been a couple months ago. The pride she’d taken in her appearance had disappeared ever since she’d started brawling. Her hair, which she’d used to brush and keep in complete place, now hung limply over her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin had paled from the lack of care she showed her body. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even bothered to put on makeup.
She was an absolute wreck, and she was sure that it satisfied Han to see her that way.
Zula gave a slight roll of her eyes, “Are you done? I don’t have the desire to deal with you right now.”
“Oh, you know there’s always desire when it involves me,” Han said smugly, then gave a nod to her. “Last time I heard anything about you was a few weeks ago when you got in the way of my Kais.”
“If you’re asking for an apology, I have none to give,” Zula answered. She’d avoided the Boiling Rock since that incident, and she really didn’t think she’d be seeing Han if she stayed out of his territory. Apparently, avoiding him was harder than she thought.
“An apology from your family? Never heard of it happening,” Han said. “What I really want to know is--”
“Hey, Boss!” An Agni Kai called out, running over to him. Han turned, his brow creasing at being interrupted, but Zula didn’t bother to stay around. She used the distraction to slip away, putting as much distance between the factory, Han, and all the bitter memories that were slowly rising at seeing him.
She needed a drink.
~
Zula sat down heavily at the bar and ordered herself a drink, pinching the bridge of her nose. While going home was probably the smarter choice, she didn’t want to be there right now, even with a headache starting to take form. She needed to be out, surrounded by other people that she didn’t have to talk to, but she could let their presence keep her from falling apart. Zula had held herself together for so long that she didn’t know how to let it all go, but she liked to take precautions to keep it from happening at all costs.
She sipped her drink, sighing and rubbing her temple with her other hand. What she needed was sleep, and she supposed she’d have to stay in a couple days to try and catch up on it. Zula preferred to keep busy, but she knew her body was to its limit and that if she didn’t get at least an adequate amount of sleep, everything would cave in on her. She stared at the bar top, trying to decide how she was going to spend the next few days, when she sensed someone approach her, and she could see the smirk from the corner of her eye.
“You cannot be serious,” Zula said with a glare as she turned her face to Han. “Isn’t there some sort of rule to keep you out of here?”
She supposed he wasn’t entirely welcome, but the first time they met Han had managed to sneak into the Blue Dragon. If he could get under her sister’s nose, she guessed he really could go anywhere he pleased. Besides, it was Han: if he wasn’t allowed in, he’d just force his way there. From Zula’s experience, he wasn’t one for following the rules. Of course, when you ran with the triads, rules didn’t exactly stick.
“I’m not causing any trouble,” Han replied, sitting himself down in the seat next to her. It was true, so far, but Zula knew better than to trust it. He had a motive, she just had yet to figure it out.
“This is oddly reminiscent,” Zula muttered. What was it with her and ending up in bars with him? It seemed to be where they were constantly meeting, but then again he’d clearly followed her here. This time it was not coincidence or being in the wrong place and the wrong time. It just so happened that the spirits loved to torture her, and so they gave Han the trail and the shirshu went after her scent.
“Keep the liquor in my glass this time,” Han said as he ordered his own drink. “That always kills the mood.”
“What do you want with me?” Zula wanted to either get rid of him as quickly as possible, or leave on her own accord. She would have the moment she saw him, but if he intended to follow her further she didn’t want him figuring out where she lived. The last thing she wanted was him on her doorstep and thinking he could stop by whenever he wanted. It seemed like something he’d do, just to torture her.
“I’m just curious,” Han said, examining his drink, “Your sister dies and you go off the deep end. I knew you were crazy and high strung but I didn’t know it was that bad. You two never seemed close enough that it could drive you insane. But you did let me get between you two, so there’s that. I guess you really are twins.”
Zula tensed, her hands curling into fists as she sat up straighter, a dark look passing over her features. “Do not speak to me about my sister. You don’t have the right.”
Han scoffed, waving his hand as if he could shoo her away. “Please, you’re in no condition to fight me. When are you ever, though?”
To that, she didn’t have a retort. Even back then, Zuka had insisted she didn’t stand a chance against Han. For all the training and the fighting she was doing now, she still wasn’t in the right shape to face him. She remembered the first time they met, and how she had called him pathetic. He must have thought the same of her now, and he probably saw her as nothing more than an empty threat too. Zula couldn’t stand that, and it frustrated her even more that she had no way to prove her capabilities.
Han sipped from his glass, then set it down and looked to her. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish here, but you’re going to get yourself killed. Zuka was the tough one out of you both. You’re just one of those people that needs to be watched over.”
“I don’t want to be protected.” Zula stared him down a moment and then pulled her gaze away, staring intensely into the air before her. She didn’t want to see the laughter in Han’s eyes when she spoke. “Everyone has tried to shield me. My mother, Zuka, they both tried to keep me in the dark one way or another. I’m tired of being in the dark. I’m going to fight my way out of it until I know everything, and no one is going to stop me. I refuse to be ignorant any longer.”
She waited for the laughter, for a smug comment. It was what she was used to when it came to Han, and she prepared herself to have to restrain from launching at him when he tried to provoke her. She waited, but the mocking never came. Instead he leaned forwards with his arms on the bar top, smiling darkly at her. It was one of danger, of knowledge that only he possessed, of someone who had something in his grasp. “You don’t need to get out of the dark, you need to actually step into it. Come run with my triad for a while, and I’ll show you just what this city is really like.”
“Right,” Zula drawled. “I go running around with your triad, and then what? You blackmail me, or use what happens in some way to ruin my job position? When I run out of use for you, what will you decide to do to make sure I never prosper again?”
She shook her head, and then gave a small, bitter laugh, raising her glass to her lips. “Go ahead, take that from me too.”
“Well, those are some pretty fantastic ideas,” Han replied, “And I can’t say that I won’t consider that when it’s all said and done. Even I got tired of Zuka, and I had to do something about that.”
“And the same will be for me in due time,” Zula answered. “I may as well go to the Dolls if I want involved with the triads. At least then, I wouldn’t be going against my sister.”
It was Han’s turn to shake his head, as if he thought of her to be such a fool. “The Dolls aren’t going to let you with them, and they act like they’re so much better than the rest of us. But they aren’t. They just hide behind their apparent good intentions and mask over all the bad with that excuse, which is all you’re going to get if you go to them. It’ll be like Zuka still trying to keep you hidden.”
He leaned in slightly, the smirk sliding back onto his face. “You’re just teetering on the edge of the truth of this city. If you want to know all of it, you’re going to have to embrace it. There is no playing it safe or sitting by and watching it all unfold. If you want this, you have to get your hands dirty.”
Zula said nothing, just watched as Han stood and looked down to her, “I don’t expect you to just jump in right now, so I’m not going to sit here and wait for an answer. You know where to find me if you want to take me up on the offer.”
He turned away and headed out the door, and Zula watched him until he had disappeared into the night. Then she brought her hands to her head, elbows on the table as she stared down into her now empty glass. Upon its first suggestion, Zula had rejected it immediately. She hated Han, despised him more than anyone in her life. Running around with his hot headed, repulsive triad was never something she dreamed about.
But she did need a way in. She’d already crossed into so much that Zuka had wanted her to stay blind to; the bars, the fighting rings, knowledge and association with the triads. Zula had immersed herself so deep already that one more step was like finishing her initiation into this dark and cruel world. When she was already in so deep, what was going the full distance?
She stared down at the glass and she found herself wondering, How far can you fall?
~
She gave it one day. Then two. Then three.
She mulled it over, thought through the possibilities. The gains. The losses. The pros, the cons.
She thought of what she’d have to do to get out of it when she’d had enough.
The answers weren’t clear cut, and they wouldn’t be from the outside looking in. Zula barely knew what it meant to be involved with a triad, and she had no idea what it would do to her. Certainly it would change her viewpoint, and it would show her the real corruption of Republic City. She needed to see it, there was no doubt in that.
But did she really want to do that with the Kais? Zuka would hate her if she was here. It would be the ultimate betrayal, the worst insult to her twin. They’d always been on opposing sides, but this would drive the wedge deeper, the knife farther into the wound. Firebender or not, it didn’t excuse that Zula would be siding with the man who tried to kill her sister, and tear down her own triad at every turn. If Zuka were here, she’d never forgive her.
But Zuka’s not here. Zuka can’t stop you, the hurt inside her whispered bitterly. If Zuka was here, she wouldn’t even be considering it. Zula was on her own now.
She had no one left to fight for but herself.
Zula pushed open the doors to the Boiling Rock, standing tall, her chin up. She stopped in the middle of the room and spied Han leaning against the bar. Upon her entry he gave the same dark smile that he had the other night and rose up, all heads turning to see where he was looking. The Kais in the room turned to face her, some who knew her glaring, others just watching to see what their leader intended to do about her entry. Zula was not deterred by them, and watched as Han walked over to her, ignoring the rest of them.
“Do we have an agreement?” He already knew the answer, and she could see the satisfaction in his eyes. He knew from the moment he suggested it that she was too lost to refuse.
“Yes,” Zula replied coolly, raising her eyes to his. “I accept the offer.”
Han grinned with all the smugness in the world, and, for now, she let him win.
“Welcome to the Agni Kai Triad.”