BOOK ONE: VOID

CHAPTER FIVE: SWORD AND SWORN WORD

Nourma was in trouble.

It was Linus' fault. He would occasionally appear next to Nourma during her classes. And since Nourma was the only one who could see or hear Linus, she was forced to hear his unbidden commentary on the subject.

Nourma was attending her afternoon history lecture. The instructor was an animated old man with a shiny bald head and a bushy white beard that seemed to point in every direction. All the attendees loved Sifu Noqtak's lectures. All of them, save for Linus.

"...so the Han dynasty started in the northern isles in the eighth century B.I." Sifu Noqtak continued, raising his hand above his head to emphasize "north". "It began as a group of peasants who rebelled against their local government, as a result of extremely high taxes." He raised his hand again to emphasize "high".

"Wrong," Linus muttered to Nourma, "it was actually a local magistrate forcing his peasants to rebel, in order to gain more power."

"Leave it, old man." Nourma muttered back.

"These rebels," Noqtak continued, "without formal military training, swept down from the north…" he swept his hand down, accidentally creating a gust of air, scattering the papers on his desk, "and marched into the heart of Shin territory, inspiring locals to their cause."

Linus spoke again to Nourma: "It was actually hired mercenaries that attacked the Shin dynasty, and it was less 'inspiring' and more 'terrorizing'."

"I don't care," growled Nourma, more warning than statement.

Noqtak, after making a vain effort to organize his papers, continued on: "The Han rebels surrounded the Shin capital…"

"Burned the Shin capital, more like it." Nourma ground her teeth.

"...and successfully ended the Shin dynasty, after twelve centuries of rule, and ushered in a new era of prosperity!" Noqtak ended his speech with a smack to his palm, inadvertently sending a blast of air into the empty first row. Students of Sifu Noqtak quickly learned to sit in the back of the lecture hall.

"Ridiculous!" snorted Linus, "the Han dynasty was just more of the same oppression. Honestly, where do they get these teachers?" Nourma balled her fists, trying to listen to the ongoing lecture and ignore Linus' rant. "I suppose they let anyone become an instructor, as long as you have the intellectual prowess of a mole-sloth!"

"Will you please SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Nourma yelled out. Sifu Noqtak stopped his instruction and stared at Nourma. So did the entirety of the class.

Nourma's face reddened. She wanted to pull her hood over her head, but the orange and white robes of a novice Airbender uniform had no hood. She instead slouched into her chair, trying in vain to hide herself as the interrupting culprit. Linus opened his mouth to tell Nourma that she should learn to control her anger, but decided that now wasn't the time for that particular lesson.

Nourma's punishment for her outburst was to wash the dinner dishes that night. The dirty plates and utensils and pots and pans were a daunting challenge for a lone worker, and Nourma grumbled through the long hours.

"Am I interrupting?" asked a small voice from behind her.

Startled, Nourma whipped around and saw Sifu Opal standing in the doorway. Nourma lowered her eyes and said, "no, Sifu."

Opal moved beside Nourma and picked up a plate, still wet with suds. "I heard there was a disruption in class today."

Nourma went back to washing dishes, saying nothing.

"Is everything all right with your studies?" Opal asked.

"Yes, Sifu," Nourma intonned. The transition from her mother's casual instruction to formal schooling had been rough, and continued to be difficult, but Nourma relished at the opportunity to improve. One particular area of difficulty was Nourma's meditation, a requirement for Airbender students. She could never calm her mind; it was like calming a stormy sea.

Opal raised the dish and flexed her fingers, sending a sharp rush of air across the surface, blasting the suds and water away. "And your friends?"

"No, they're fine too," Nourma replies, softening her voice. Her and Mehdi differed sharply from the classmates who had been raised in the more cosmopolitan areas of the world. But they had quickly formed a clique with a brother and sister from a remote village in the Fire Nation, and together they were discovering and surviving the modernity of Republic City.

"Is it…" Opal paused, put away the clean dish, then rephrased her question, "do you miss your home?"

Nourma stopped washing. "Yes, of course…" she whispered. She missed her parents every day. She missed the desert, the village, and the simple way of life. "But that's not it…"

Opal blast-dried another plate and looked at Nourma, inviting her to share. Nourma decided to test the waters.

"Opal...has anyone ever been able to speak, and hear, and see…" she hesitated, "...a spirit?"

Opal smiled, struggling to contain her excitement. "A few people. Spirits are rare nowadays, and most avoid people. Are you saying you have seen a spirit?"

Nourma decided to tell her everything. "Yeah, I can see a spirit, sometimes. His name is Linus." At this, Opal let out a quiet gasp. "He says he's…"

"...the second Avatar!" Opal finished. She looked at Nourma and gave her a warm smile. Nourma smiled back. "Nourma, having this ability doesn't make you strange. You have a rare gift!" At this, Nourma remembered her unnatural ability to bend fire as well as air, and frowned, but Opal continued. "I wonder...would you be interested in coming to the University to speak with a friend of mine? If you can communicate with Avatar Linus...we can learn so much from him!"

Nourma grinned awkwardly. "Well, he does like to talk. In fact, all he does is talk. Yeah, we can do that."

Opal squeezed Nourma's shoulder affectionately. "Thank you. And thank you for telling me." She turned to leave.

"Sifu Opal?" Opal paused in the doorway, and Nourma gave her her best pouty eyes. "Does this mean I can stop washing dishes?"

Opal laughed. "Nice try, Nourma. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dashtu was in trouble.

After they returned to Ky Shek, he was locked in his room for three days. He was given stale bread and dusty water, and he fumed in his isolation. On the third day, he heard the door open and saw a figure in the doorway.

It was Fatima.

Dashtu automatically stood up in the presence of his mother, and hated himself for showing respect. "Hello, mother," he spat, acidly.

Fatima walked slowly towards Dashtu with imposing steps and stared at him with an iron glare. Dashtu stared back defiantly. Then Fatima relaxed her face and sat down on the bed, motioning for Dashtu to join her.

"Please, son," she said with a conciliatory tone, "let us talk."

Dashtu remained standing. "The only thing to talk about is how you were going to kill Ali. How you were going to let your own son die."

Fatima looked down at the ground and spoke with a somber tone. "I was. And I would make that same decision today. It was the hardest choice I ever made, but spirits help me, I would make that same choice today."

Dashtu wheeled on her with savage triumph. "So you admit it! Family means nothing to you!"

Fatima quickly stood and fixed Dashtu with another angry glare. "Shame! Family means everything to me! Family is everything!" Her voice softened, and she laid a gentle hand on Dashtu's shoulder. "But, as leader of the Umara, I consider the entire tribe as my family. It is a responsibility that you will have to share, one day."

Dashtu slowly sat down on the bed. Fatima looked down on her son. "Ali was a threat; leave no doubt in your mind. He was a threat to you, to me, to the Umara, to the entire desert. I saw his mind, his intentions. He wants to control and conquer. Ali may think that he will help people by spreading our superior way of life, but all he would spread is destruction!

"The Umara symbol is two crossed swords. Our swords protect those under us. The weak, the helpless, those who cannot provide for themselves. But in order to protect those people, our swords must be ready to strike down anyone who is a threat to us. Ali was a threat, and that is why he is gone. We must help the weak, but we cannot help anybody if we ourselves are weak."

"Is this about Nourma?" Dashtu asked with a quiet voice. "Because Ali never hurt her. He tried to save her."

"I don't care about the Hami girl," said Fatima, "I care about the future of my tribe." She reached down and raised Dashtu's chin so that her son was looking at her eye to eye. "I care about you."

Dashtu's countenance wavered, and he stood up and embraced his mother. "I care about you, too."

Fatima stroked his hair. "I know. And I forgive you." She released him. "Do you swear to never again betray your family?"

Dashtu nodded slowly. "I swear it. For the Umara."

University Square stood in stark contrast to the sleek and polished towers of Republic City. Mehdi was used to the absence of nature in the city, but he was pleasantly surprised at the melding of architecture and greenery. The University of the United Republics was built on the edge of the massive Central Reserve, with the spirit vines overflowing the bounds of the reserve, draping themselves over the clean, columned buildings. The inner campus consisted of a courtyard laced with hardened vines, dead but preserved. Pathways cut through the tangle of vines, connecting the four main buildings: the departments of Political Thinking, Civics, Arts, and Industry. Mehdi, Nourma, and Opal made their way across the courtyard into the marbled foyer of the eastern building.

Mehdi was elated when Nourma made her decision to train as an Airbender; he was entranced by Republic City and its infinite experiences. Saying goodbye to his parents had been hard, more on them than him, but Mehdi viewed the move as a net positive. He radioed them during his scant free hours a week, but his mind was focused on his considerable duties. As one of four Acolytes supporting an Academy of two hundred ninety four students and eighteen teachers, Mehdi's days and nights consisted of running errands, delivering messages, and the all-encompassing "miscellaneous". He thanked the spirits that Airbender training involved students sweeping, mopping, and washing; he was spared that indignity.

So Mehdi eagerly accepted Sifu Opal's offer to accompany her and Nourma to the University. They were just about to ascend the alabaster staircase when they heard a commotion behind them.

"Yoohoo! Pardon? Are you Sifu Opal?"

The three orange-robed visitors turned and watched as a disheveled, bespectacled woman approached them. Opal gave a polite smile and said, "I am. Greetings. And you are…?"

"Professor Xuexi, former Director of Histories at Ba Sing Se University." She stuck out her chalk-covered hand. Opal gave a slight bow instead. Xuexi retracted her hand and wiped it on her side, leaving a white smudge on her green jacket. "I regret to inform you that Doctor Je Sig is unable to meet with you today. But I can take the witness' statement." She pointed to a small door at the bottom of the staircase that, in Mehdi's considerable recent experiences in such matters, looked like a broom cupboard. "In there will do. Sooner would be better."

"Xuexi!"

The three visitors turned again to see a dark haired man in a pristine white suit descending the staircase at an imposing pace. Professor Xuexi looked away and hissed through her teeth.

"You have been warned," the man said, "this is my research, not yours."

"It's not fair, Je Sig!" complained Xuexi, "I just need an oral history to complete my doctorate!"

"You had your chance," Je Sig retorted. "Remember that Water Tribe chieftain?"

"I remember you sending me off across some frozen wasteland to some backwards village that probably didn't exist in the first place." Xuexi whipped a pencil out of her tangled hair and pointed it accusingly at the figure a few steps above her. "And the Education Committee did not think my account of eating penguin-seal blubber for three days straight warranted a degree!"

"I apologize for my...eager...colleague," Je Sig said, motioning Opal, Nourma, and Mehdi onward, "the ex-director was just leaving." He shot an angry look over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs. Xuexi returned the glare, stuck her tongue out, and then scurried down the stairs and into a hallway on the right. Mehdi watched her go, grateful at the experience to witness the intricacies of a scholarly debate.

The Doctor, the Sifu, the Airbender, and the Acolyte piled into Je Sig's office and sat down around a regal desk in an cozy room lined with bookshelves overflowing with leather tomes. Je Sig gingerly took a cloth parcel from a drawer and unwrapped it on the desktop. It appeared to be a twisted piece of driftwood carved into a crude figure.

"This is one of my most prized relics," Je Sig said proudly. "This will help us summon Avatar Linus. I'm told it was a cherished possession of his."

"I've always hated that thing," said Linus, suddenly appearing beside Nourma. "Did they really keep that piece of junk around for millenia?"

"He says he hates that thing," repeated Nourma, untactfully. Je Sig's face fell.

Mehdi scanned the room excitedly. "Is he really here, in this room?"

Je Sig's face brightened. "This is great! The presence of an Ancient Avatar!" Then they heard a muffled voice below them, emanating from the ventilation duct.

"Oh, Great Avatar! Pray answer this humble doctoral candidate's inquiry! What effect did the local ruling warbands have on the cross-bending propagation of…"

"Xuexi!" Je Sig was startled from his awe. "This is highly inappropriate!" He took a stack of books and placed them over the duct. He pulled out a notebook and pen, and turned to Nourma. "Now Nourma, would you be so kind as to interpret Avatar Linus' sayings? Whatever he wants to talk about."

Linus stroked his chin. "Well, there is this one story…"

Nourma groaned. "I don't want to repeat what you say, word for word, like a parrot-seal!"

Opal placed her hand on Nourma's. "Please Nourma. This is important."

Linus chuckled. "Your teacher is right: I am important. But if that doesn't convince you, in return for doing this, I'll teach you a special bending ability." He raised his right hand. "Avatar Promise! Will that sway your cold heart? Now, let's begin…"

Linus was in trouble. He had disobeyed his master, Eru, and turned his back on his Airbending duties. He was alone, friendless, and in enemy territory. His attack on the warchief's sanctuary had been a huge blow for the bandits, but the remnants still roamed the dark woods as before: unchecked, preying on the weak. For all his effort, Linus had failed.

But he still retained an ember of dying hope. Linus could bend both air and water. He did not know of a single person in history that could bend more than one element. Linus had a special gift, and he reasoned that he should use it. But first he needed to master it. And that meant finding a Waterbender.

Linus heard that Waterbenders inhabited the coasts, so he made his way south. He travelled softly by night, following the Southern Bell, over fen and bog, until he heard the alien sound of waves crashing. The next morning, he came across a rocky shore and beheld the ocean for the first time. Linus was awestruck. The horizon seemed a yawning void; the ocean was a mysterious, infinite, unassailable mass. He licked his lips and tasted the tangy sea breeze. There were no Waterbenders in sight.

Linus wanted to retreat back to the safety of the trees, but he felt an intrinsic pull towards the water, towards the never ending waves. He approached cautiously, treading on the smooth stones. The waves rolled in and out, up and down, forwards and backwards. His arms began to unconsciously mimic the motion of the waves: extend, retract, extend, retract. After a while, the waves began to mimic the motion of his arms: they would rise a little higher, or retreat somewhat into the surf. Linus was elated; he was a Waterbender!

After a few days of travelling west along the coast, Linus heard the harsh sounds of human voices. He retreated to the treeline and approached the noises carefully. He saw a fishing crew gathered around a large sailboat, joking and laughing as they repaired their nets. Linus' heart leaped in joy and fear. These were Waterbenders! No other Firebender or Earthbender would travel willingly on the sea, so far away from their bending materials. Linus wanted to observe them, to see if they were friendly, but he never got the chance.

He felt the spearhead prod his back and heard a rough voice: "Well, wot 'ave we 'ere! A spy, fr'm the looks ov it!"

Linus was pushed from the shelter of the trees, eliciting concerned shouts, then laughs from the sailors. They all gathered to see the strange visitor. Linus stood tall and spoke with a loud voice.

"If you are friends to me, I will be your best companion! If you are my enemies, I will be your worst nemesis!" He spoke proudly, but he felt hollow. He knew he could not possibly take on all these people. The Waterbenders knew this as well, and laughed even harder.

Linus seized the moment of vulnerability and quickly turned and hit the spearwoman standing behind him with a blast of air. She fell back on the hard stones with a cry. Linus made four swift uppercuts, sending four slices of air towards the boat, blasting a few people back. He retreated a few steps to the forest and turned back, ready to send a wall of wind towards the remaining sailors. One of them stepped forward, aiming a drawn arrow at Linus.

"You be an Airbender, that's true enough. But thar be some ways to take down a wind-tosser. A shaft to the breast be one!"

Linus raised his hands, defeated. The Waterbenders started to move in. Then Linus noticed the lapping waves behind the bowman. A wild idea came to him. He crouched down into a wide stance, and shifting back with all his force, bent a surge of water towards the bowman. The wave only came up to his knees, but it was enough to send his arrow flying off course over Linus' head. Linus ran into the woods, ignoring a plaintive, solitary cry of "Wait!"

Linus ran and ran, trembling from excitement and fear. When he could run no more, he walked; and when he could walk no more, he slept. He was dispirited by the incident, but quickly resolved to find other, friendlier Waterbenders.

A few days later, while he was traversing an overgrown glade, Linus heard the braying of a trapped animal. He hurried towards the sound, and saw a cat-deer with its hind leg caught in a trap. Linus was moved to pity; the Airbender philosophy forbade the harming of animals. He stepped forward to free the creature. Suddenly, his legs were caught in a snare and were jerked up towards the canopy. Linus' head collided against something solid and his vision became blurry and unfocused. He felt rough hands grabbing and dragging him across the mossy ground. His hands and feet were bound, and Linus was deposited roughly against a gnarled tree.

Linus' sight slowly returned to him, but he did not relish the view. He was looking at the ugliest man he had ever seen. Age had twisted his face, making it wrinkled, furrowed, and covered in boils. But despite his looks, he was smiling, showcasing his few remaining teeth.

Linus attempted an air of bravado: "If you're going to kill me, get it over with soon. I can't stand your stench."

The old man burst into laughter. "You're not in a position to judge people on their odor, Linus!"

Linus shrank back, wary of this stranger's seeming clairvoyance. "How did you know my name?"

"It's sewn on your jacket." The old man pointed to the faded characters sewn in red stitching on Linus' Airbender uniform. Linus was harshly reminded of his lost comrades: he and Eru were all that remained from his squad. Eru had betrayed her Airbender principles, and Linus was a prisoner of a gang of bandits. However, Linus' melancholy mood was interrupted when the man continued, his grinning face turned somber.

"I can tell you're afraid, Linus. You can bend more than one element, and that frightens you. I don't know why you have this power. I have an idea why. I can help you. But first, I need you to promise me something. You need to swear to be just, to protect the innocent, to preserve balance. Swear to me, and I'll tell you everything."

Linus was filled with rage. He had been tied up, kidnapped, bludgeoned, and now this bandit had the audacity to question his honor. He sat up sharply and the angry words started to flow out of him, unhindered.

"No, you swear to me! All my life I've served the cause of justice. I've helped the poor and the defenseless. I kept them safe from people like you. My oath is reflected in my deeds and my actions. Ask one of the countless villagers I protected from your raiding parties! So no, I will not swear to you. You surround yourself with cutthroats and thieves and people who were prepared to kill me, and you're implying that I'm unjust? No. You will swear to me."

Linus sat back and breathed heavily, his head swimming. He noticed the ring of sailors standing around the glade. They were the same ragged bandits he had escaped from a few days ago, but they were no longer laughing.

The old man was taken aback. He shook his head a few times. "My apologies, Linus. I think we started on the wrong oar-stroke."

Linus motioned to his bound hands. "You don't say."

The old man produced a stone knife and swiftly cut the cords around Linus' hands. Linus rubbed his wrists and mentally prepared for an escape. The old man offered his bony hand, and Linus took it after some hesitation.

"My name is Etzl. And this is my band of smugglers. They...we...were lawless bandits for a while. Then, a long time ago, we met an extraordinary man. He convinced us to stop stealing from the people and start giving to them. From then on, we stole only from the warlords and distributed our takings to the commoners. We've been doing his task for the past forty years. He taught us to use our weapons and our bending powers for good."

Linus felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "Who is this 'extraordinary man'?"

Etzl fixed Linus with a knowing stare and grinned. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Wan?"

Linus' heart leapt in his breast, and he felt incredibly light, although he didn't know why. "No, can't say that I have."

Etzl's face fell. "Don't they teach kids anything these days?"

"I'm an Airbender," Linus protested, "I'm trained in air combat, hand-to-hand combat, and advanced meditation."

"You're also a Waterbender," Etzl countered. "I saw you bend water a few days ago. There's only one other person I know that can bend more than one element. That was Wan, the person who convinced us to turn away from evil. He could bend air and water, like you. He could also bend fire and earth. He used his incredible powers for good, and he changed the world for the better." He pointed a gnarled finger at Linus. "What are you going to do with your powers?"

Linus cocked his head. "Are you implying that I can bend earth and fire too?"

Etzl shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But won't it be interesting to find out?"

Instinctively, Linus knew he could bend all four elements. He looked down at his hands and could almost feel the untapped potential flowing through them. What did that mean for him? Linus knew the answer to that as well. It meant long years of training, and longer years of fighting against injustice. That was to be his future; he would have to endeavor for the rest of his life. Was he ready for this.

Yes, Linus thought. This changed nothing. He had already sworn to protect the helpless, to devote his life to serving good. Linus just had more tools to see his mission through. He looked determinedly at Etzl.

"I need a waterbending master."

"And I need a waterbending student," Etzl proudly replied, standing up. "Let's begin. We've got a long journey ahead of us." The stone knife flashed again, and Linus' feet were free. Etzl stuck out his hand and Linus took it, as the new student rose to meet his new teacher.

After a few more hours, the session was finished, and Nourma and Mehdi rode the monorail back to the Academy, leaving Opal to confer with Je Sig. Mehdi suddenly realized that they were riding atop a rail that stretched unbroken from the swampy southlands to the northern wastes, from the desert to the snows, from Republic City to Ba Sing Se. He mentioned this to Nourma, expecting her to share his amazement. Instead, she smiled weakly and went back to staring out the window at the passing city. Mehdi turned away, worried.

He looked around at the variety of races and cultures contained in the railcar. There were natives from the Water Tribes, with high cheekbones and proud faces. Sitting behind them were visitors from the Fire Nation, with hair as black as coal and blazing eyes. There were Republic City locals sitting behind Mehdi and Nourma, discussing something regarding "dividends" and "assets".

And yet, as Mehdi reflected on the different people in the car, he observed that they were all dressed the same. Aside from he and Nourma, wearing traditional Airbender robes, and the Fire Nation visitors in their predictable red robes, everyone else was wearing dark suits and trousers. It looked very uncomfortable to Mehdi. There was one person by the door, with an immaculately trimmed beard, who was dressed in a very svelte suit, with pinstripes and gleaming buttons. As he chewed a toothpick, his gaze fell on Mehdi. Mehdi looked away.

The train came to a stop at Whistler's Row. Two police officers boarded, dressed in their metal plated patrol uniforms. They looked at the man in the pinstripe suit. He glared back.

"Well, if it isn't Two-Nosed Ping," said one of the officers, "seems you're in a mess of trouble!" The train car fell silent as all eyes fell on the exchange.

"Not as big a mess as you'll be in if you don't leave me alone," Two-Nosed Ping replied with a gravelly voice.

One of the officers reached for her handcuffs. Ping flicked his wrist, sending the steaming tea of an adjacent passenger into the policewoman's face. She fell back with a cry. Ping rose and shoved her partner back into the opposite seat. A chime sounded; the doors were closing. Somebody yelled "Stop him!" but Mehdi was already up and running. Ping escaped through the closing door, followed closely by the Hami tribe boy.

Ping was sprinting down the length of the platform. Already, two people in maroon suits were in pursuit, with Mehdi bringing up the rear. With staccato steps, Ping went down the steps to street level, followed by the younger of the maroon suits. Mehdi passed the older partner, who was already wheezing and bent over. Dodging traffic, Ping crossed the busy street to the tune of blaring horns. He disappeared down a dark alley, followed by the maroon man and Mehdi. They rounded a corner. Ping splashed through a puddle and, twisting his torso and pronating his wrist, turned the puddle to ice. The maroon man yelped, lost his footing, and went tumbling into some nearby shop steps. Mehdi stumbled, but was able to regain his footing and continue the chase.

Ping was climbing some metal scaffolding now, but he was tiring. Mehdi easily leapt up the metal housings, until he was on the same level as Ping, three stories above the street. Ping sensed his pursuer behind him, and reached down, grabbed a bucket of chalk, and tossed it in Mehdi's face.

This would have been debilitating for most people, but to a desert dweller raised in airborne particulates, it barely phased Mehdi. He barrelled into Ping, sending them crashing through the flimsy floorboards and onto the second level. Ping groaned, splayed out under Mehdi. High on adrenaline, Mehdi delivered a punch to Ping's forehead that knocked him out. Mehdi sat back, panting. "I sure hope you were really a bad guy."

Then a shadow fell on Mehdi. He turned to see a broad shouldered man towering over him. He spoke with a gruff voice: "You're a real tough kid, aren't you?"

Dashtu was reading in his room late one night, studying the history of the Si Wong desert. Its history was as harsh as its climate, but it was punctuated by tiny oases of selfless people, rare but necessary.

The previous months had been a period of growth for Dashtu. After Fatima had released him, Dashtu was met with righteous suspicion from his brothers and sisters. But he had strived to be a model son of the Umara. He devoted himself to his studies, and he poured himself into bettering his tribe. And gradually he was accepted back into the family.

He had just reached the section of the scroll regarding the Sunken Library when he heard a soft noise outside his window. Dashtu went across the room and opened the pane. He saw a disheveled, dirty face with sunken eyes looking back at him.

Dashtu gasped. It was Ali.

"Hello brother," Ali croaked. "May I come in?"

Dashtu hesitated. He had been working so hard the past few months to gain Fatima's good graces. Even talking to his banished brother would have dire consequences. Ali continued speaking outside the window.

"I know I let the family down. I know I let you down. I made a mistake. And I've paid the consequences. It's a hard world out there, Dashtu. We grew up in privilege. I don't know how to survive with nothing. Please, I need your help."

Dashtu looked at his wasting brother. "What do you want?"

"I need you to come with me."

Dashtu laughed coldly. "Absolutely not."

Ali's face grimaced. "Please! I'm not the same person I was back then. I've changed. And what future do you have here? Sil will become chieftain of the Umara. You're the youngest child. You'll get nothing. There's nothing for you here. But us, together? I've seen the world out there. We can make our fortune."

Ali's eyes were shining, and Dashtu knew that his brother had not changed. He was still dangerously ambitious. But Dashtu also knew that without a tempering presence, Ali would do something rash out of desperation. He could hurt himself, or hurt others. But if he turned Ali over to Fatima, his mother would kill him. Dashtu could not do that to his own brother. With a deep sigh, he acquiesced. Dashtu needed to look out for his vulnerable brother. He needed to look out for the potential victims in Ali's path. Like Fatima said, the swords of the Umara needed to protect the needy. His mother would have to understand.