The prophecies held true. I return.

I'm sorry for nearly abandoning this fic for nearly three-quarters of a year. As I enter my fourth year in med school, time is getting tighter, responsibilities are getting more numerous, and schedules are becoming more unpredictable. Writing has always been a way of personal release, but as of now, I don't have the luxury or ability to commit to scheduled updates as many authors are able to do. Coupled with the fact that I am a very inconsistent worker and often discard several drafts of stuff before I put them up, it's going to make writing a tad more difficult. Nevertheless, what I can commit to is ensuring that I do right by the fandom and my fellow readers and authors, by seeing this story through as far as I can.

Thank you for sticking around!

Disclaimer: I own nothing...but in fifteen minutes and twenty seconds, I will own everything.

Sato Estate, Republic City

Ten o'clock in the morning

"Prince Wu? Your highness?"

Yin was about to knock—then she saw that the door was ajar.

The plate of red bean dumplings was all but forgotten as she dropped the tray, rushing into the room, panic mounting in her heart as she looked upon the empty bed, the neatly folded blanket, and the conspicuously empty cupboard.

"Oh no, oh no oh no..." Yin clapped a hand to her mouth, tears pooling in her wrinkled eyes. "They've kidnapped him again, they have—"

Her eyes fell on the note on the dressing table, folded in half.

She smoothed out the letter with trembling hands. Up on the top was the prince's personal stamp.

Dear Auntie Yin,

You have been nothing but good to me for the past two months. You treated me like your own grandson, and made me a part of your family. I'm sorry for not saying this in person, but I wanted you to know.

I'm going away on a holiday for a while. I know it's not safe right now, but who knows how long the war will last. I want to get away for a bit—relax, and unwind. So I'm going somewhere with sunshine—lots and lots and lots of sunshine.

Chapter 8: The Freedom Fighters

The Earth Kingdom

Hutou Shan

150 000 feet above sea level

Prince Wu braced himself as the fighter closed in, rushing across the foot-deep snow with quick even steps. The howling blizzard swept across the Hutou Mountains relentlessly, bringing visibility down to nearly zero—Wu heard his opponent coming before he saw him.

Two more behind this guy. Wu sidestepped the man's charge. One behind me.

The man's thick, furred jacket brushed past Wu's combat armor—and Wu seized his collar. The heavily dressed rebel lurched backwards, imbalanced. Without missing a beat, Wu wrapped his remaining arm around his attacker, pinning the ice axe to his side—and slammed him to the ground.

One down.

"You're going down!" A yell came from somewhere in the snow, the voice of a young woman. It was answered instantly by the shouts of a dozen other rebels.

Their cries echoed off the cliffside.

Wu drew his combat baton.

Welcome to the Earth Kingdom. Or rather, welcome back.

Yin struggled to focus, forcing herself to continue reading. Where could Wu possibly be?

But the real truth is, Auntie Yin, I'm going away to meet someone. We've been dating for quite some time, but I never really told her about how I feel. Now, with the war going on, I don't know if I'll ever get the chance. I need to see her. To talk things out. So yes, after all that—I'm doing this for a girl.

The prince dodged the flying chain as it cut an arc across the air. The lithe, tall rebel caught the chain whip with her other hand as her now-free hand clenched into a fist and thrust toward Wu's abdomen. Expecting to hit flesh, her knuckles met instead with the stiff metal of the combat baton.

As the fighter flinched, Wu swung the baton in a downward arc, snapping it against her left kneecap and drawing a cry of pain. His opponent sank briefly to the ground, giving the prince the opening he needed—to drive his elbow into the face of the charging rebel about to catch him in a bear hug.

No electrical weapons, the prince reminded himself, even as the rebel fell face-down into the snow. In this weather, even a few minutes' unconsciousness will kill them.

"Was that supposed to hurt?" The words seethed with venom. Prince Wu turned again, baton at the ready, to meet the angry, snow-stained eyes of the female fighter. The chain whip spun at her hip, cutting an eddy in the falling snow.

Wu heard footfalls. Reinforcements. In the whiteness, he spotted the gleam of several torches.

"Stay back—stay back!" His opponent shouted, raising a hand. "This one's mine!"

The cries around them stopped momentarily. Then, one voice boomed out, echoing over even the howls of the wind.

"No, Yu Piao."

A figure stepped out of the blizzard, the white robe falling away to reveal a suit of brown leather armor—and a gleaming pair of hook swords.

"He's mine."

I'm going to have to do something drastic to impress her. Flowers, chocolates, promises I don't intend to keep—these won't do. I need to show her that she can trust me. Which means I need to be there in person.

"Very impressive." The newcomer stepped in, his curved swords drawn. "Not only have you survived the difficult climb up Hutou Shan, you bested five of our warriors in the snow—the very best terrain where we train to fight."

The female fighter—Yu Piao, it seemed—looked reluctant to quit the fray. Her chain whip was still grasped firmly in both hands. But one glance at her master and she stepped back slowly.

Wu readied his stance.

"Jet, I presume." The built-in voice changer in the mask, coupled with the echoes off the cliffside, made his first words sound like the growl of some unnatural spirit. The effect was not lost on the rebels around. Many of them shrank back.

"If you know who I am, then you must have come here for only one reason." The hooded man raised one sword, pointing it at Wu.

"I have come to talk," Wu answered simply.

"We both know that is not true." Jet twirled both swords. "Enough of this charade. Prepare yourself!"

His speed was frightening. Jet closed the gap between them in nothing more than the blink of an eye, stepping over foot-deep snow as if it was air.

Wu was nearly too late. He twisted to the side a half-second before Jet's blade hooked over the space where his neck would have been. The prince had scarcely a second to collect himself before the second sword swept towards his abdomen.

Wu blocked it with his armored gauntlet—and felt raw strength behind the blow, far beyond what Jet should possess for his age.

In spite of the armor and ski mask, the rebel leader moved like the wind—nearly a hair faster than Wu, a split second more agile—and the young prince found himself summoning every iota of concentration to fend off the older man's strikes.

As one blow, the two blades came down. Wu threw up his arms, and was immediately forced down on one knee.

For all his combat training, the wealth of ten years' worth of hell in the Spirit World, reality ensued for Wu. The body of a seventeen year old raised in luxury was no match for the raw strength of a warrior bred in hardship.

"Fast, yes." Jet strained downwards, putting his body weight on both swords. "But not stronger than me."

"Maybe not," Wu gasped. "But perhaps smarter."

Wu yielded suddenly, causing Jet to stumble. The prince crouched, allowing his armored shoulder blades to take the blow of the two swords slamming down. In an instant, he struck the older man's knees with a sweeping kick. As Jet collapsed into the snow, the prince rolled to the side.

The crowd of fighters roared around them, screaming for Wu's blood. Yu Piao advanced, chain in hand, flanked by three other men with murderous looks behind their snow goggles.

Wu threw up his gauntlet and aimed it at Jet. The triplet cluster of red dots congregated on the man's body as he rose to his feet.

The prince reached for the gauntlet with his other hand, and tapped on the built-in console.

Seventy feet away, the Sparrowhawk received the signal.

The entire snowy arena was suddenly bathed with glaring light, beamed from a pair of floodlights, and the mountainside rumbled with the sound of an immensely powerful engine.

"What the—" Yu Piao faltered, shielding her eyes from the blinding gleam, as her compatriots uttered cries of alarm.

Jet looked at Wu, calmly noting the gauntlet pointed straight at him, and the trio of red beams dancing over his body.

Wu smiled beneath his mask, and swung the gauntlet higher, at the sheer cliff face that loomed above them both.

"Drop your weapons and stand down." Wu turned his head towards the gathered rebels. "Or my cannons will bring down this whole mountain on all our heads."

There was a tense silence, as each and every rebel looked ready to lunge towards Wu, yet awaiting orders from the only one that mattered—

"Do as he says," Jet commanded calmly. "If he has come to talk, talk we shall."

But one thing's for sure, Auntie Yin.

Whatever happens for the coming week or so, please don't worry.

I'm definitely not in danger.

Yours truly,

Wu

PS. Please don't tell Mako and the gang.

Yin lowered the letter slowly, taking a moment to compose herself. At last, she rose from the seat.

"I'm going to tell Mako and the gang."

The pair stood a spear-length apart, eyeing each other warily—Jet through a ski hood, Wu through the lens of his mask.

"Few know where we operate from. Fewer still dare to come here." Jet sheathed his swords, one at a time. "So how have you found us?"

Wu lowered his gauntlet, and switched off the targeting module. "Ty Lee."

Jet said nothing. Then, he pulled down his mask.

Wu was glad the mask was there to conceal his surprise. The rebel leader was old, very old, and his face bore a multitude of scars. His unkempt, bushy hair was as white as the snow around them, and his sallow lips curled in barely-disguised sadness.

"Ty Lee. She's still alive, then?"

"Yes."

Jet closed his eyes briefly, smiling without humor. "The world leaves all of us behind—and yet so many of us hang around past our time, like ghosts."

"She said that you and your band of rebels are mounting a resistance effort against Kuvira."

"And if we are?"

"Then it appears our interests are aligned."

"Indeed?" Jet looked sideways at Yu Piao, who looked like she wanted nothing better than to choke the masked stranger with her whip. "And what do you want from us?"

Wu flicked snow from his fingertips. "Kuvira is building a superweapon using spirit vine technology, and it is being assembled here in the Earth Kingdom. It may even have already been completed. I need information on it." Wu winced behind the mask. His shoulders were beginning to throb from Jet's merciless assault.

"And what makes you think we know anything about that?" Jet's smile was lopsided. "We're just a small gang of rebels, perched on a high mountain in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you should be asking someone better...equipped."

"Dispense with the subterfuge, Jet," Wu retorted calmly. "If what Ty Lee tells me is true, you're better informed than you appear. You and your rebels have been raiding Earth Empire supply trains in the past few weeks, capturing shipments of electronic components and rare earth metals. Which means you clearly understand that whatever she's building, it's big—and a threat."

Jet's smile vanished. "And if I do? Why should I trust any of that intelligence to you?"

"Let's say I have a vested interest in ensuring that Republic City stays in one piece, rather than several."

"You come here, beat up my partners, threaten to destroy this mountain—and you expect me to trust a man who refuses to show his face?"

"I expect you to trust a man who is as committed as you are to ensuring that the people of the Earth Kingdom suffer under Kuvira's tyranny no longer." Wu squared his shoulders. "I stopped one attempt by Kuvira to annihilate Republic City with an electromagnetic weapon. Republic City will not survive a second attempt."

"The bomb—the hostage crisis—you?" Jet's eyes widened.

"As I thought. Your network of intelligence is wider than you pretend."

"Not wide enough, it seems. My scouts never saw you anywhere. I've never even heard of you."

"That's the idea."

Both men eyed each other in a silent standoff, still illuminated by the dazzling artificial light. Their shadows danced on the wall, blurred and muddied by the constant snowfall.

"I do not trust you," Jet said finally. "And I believe that the rest of the Freedom Fighters feel the same way." A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. Weapons bristled.

"But if your threat is to be believed—" Jet squinted in the direction of the light "—you are willing to negotiate, rather than destroy us all with whatever weapon you have hiding behind that light."

"He could be bluffing." Yu Piao narrowed her eyes, tightening her grip on the chain whip.

"One way to find out." Wu turned slowly to face her, and the hand bearing the gauntlet twitched noticeably.

"Enough." Jet raised a hand. "One thing is clear: you have proven yourself a formidable opponent. You matched me in single combat." The elderly warrior smirked lopsidedly. "Without boasting, the number of people who could do so can be counted on one hand—this hand." Jet raised a wrinkled palm—with two fingers missing. "One of those people happens to be Ty Lee, who clearly trusts you enough to endorse you."

"Are we getting somewhere?" Wu said, with an edge in his voice.

"Something for something." Jet pointed a crooked finger. "I still don't trust you, but perhaps I don't need to. You help us achieve our goals, and we will help you with yours. After that, we go our separate ways."

"What are you offering?" Wu growled.

"A very reliable source of intel on Kuvira's latest project, intel that could potentially change the outcome of the war. Information—available at a price, of course." Jet smiled.

Wu wasn't enjoying the game. "What kind of price?"

"We are about to undertake a major operation into the surrounding district, but we're going to need heavy duty firepower to pull it off," Jet explained. "Mech suits."

"And you believe I can help you obtain them?"

"There is a military base not far from here with a depot of surplus mech units. "Top-of-the-line combat models, in use by Kuvira's army. Obtain them for us, and we'll consider your end of the bargain upheld."

Wu cocked his head. "And obviously you think I can pull it off alone—"

"Correct," Jet interjected.

"—without bringing the entire Earth Empire army down on your hideout here in Hutou Shan."

"Also correct. I trust your combat skills are matched equally by your discretion."

Wu was silent for a moment. "You place a lot of trust in outsiders. How do you know I won't sell you out to the nearest military commander and put an end to your rebellion, right here?"

"Because she will be following you." Jet jerked his head, and Yu Piao stepped forward. If looks could kill, Wu would have died a dozen times over beneath her smoldering gaze.

"One step out of line, tough guy," she said, slinging the whip deftly over her shoulder, "and I'll end you myself."

"Like I said," Jet said calmly, "I don't trust you."

Wu looked the female rebel up and down. She was slender, only an inch or so shorter than he was, and well-built—very much like Korra's physique. Her hair fell down to her shoulder, snow-flecked and wild, and her cheeks were smeared with war paint. Her lips were rosy red, and she was by all standards quite attractive—if not for the murderous gaze she trained on Wu.

Guess this is the closest I'll ever get to a proper date...aaaand she wants to kill me.

Wu lowered his head stiffly. "Very well." Turning on his heel, he walked away from Jet, in the direction of the light. "I trust our business here is concluded."

Jet replied with a silent nod.

"Get packing, tough guy." Yu Piao shouldered her backpack, buttoning the top of her wool jacket. "It's going to be a long climb down the mountain."

Wu tapped on the control module of his gauntlet.

Behind the light came the roar of a powerful engine.

"We're not climbing," said Wu calmly, striding past Yu Piao's frozen form.

Ten spirit-years ago

Eighteen days after Wu's entry into the Spirit Wilds

"Too slow!"

Wu's clumsy strike broke easily as Zaheer's fist closed around his wrist. Effortlessly, the bearded monk twisted his arm around, then flipped him over in the air as easily as if Wu was a pancake.

The prince lay in the mud for a good minute, bubbles rising in the muck from his half-buried nose. It took several tries to get back on his feet, accompanied by a bout of coughing and spitting.

"You lack control over your body." Zaheer crossed his hands behind his back. "You always lead with your right. Your shoulder remains still when you feint a punch, but dips low a split second before you throw a real one. A skilled enemy can read you like a book." The monk tapped Wu's leg briefly with the tip of his bare foot. "Your hips are out of sync. Your footwork is atrocious. Keep this up, and nothing I teach you will let you survive past the first day on your own."

Wu spat a glob of mud from the inside of his cheek. "Hey—hey—not my fault I'm not raised by some super fighter family—"

"Up." Zaheer beckoned.

"Can't I rest—"

"You had one minute lying in the soft mud. That's luxury enough for a day." Zaheer uncrossed his arms and stepped back.

"Mako let me rest every fifteen—"

"Your police friend was humoring you for an afternoon's amusement." Zaheer readied his stance. "I am teaching you to survive in a world where everything is out to kill you. He never expected to make you a fighter. I do. Make your choice."

Wu steadied himself on his feet, then clenched his fists.

"And this time," said Zaheer, "try to last beyond two hits."

Wu charged.

Republic City Police Headquarters

Present Day

Eleven o'clock in the morning

Korra barged in the door to find an extremely weary Mako nested in an extremely untidy office.

"Mako! I heard about what happened at the Old Cabbage Corp—are you alright?"

The acting police chief tossed aside a dossier and slumped on an outstretched arm. "Aside from not having slept in two days—just fine."

"I can't believe Kuvira would have the guts to strike here, right in the heart of the Republic!" Korra clenched her fist and glared out the window. "Good thing you guys were on hand to deal with things."

"That's not the only problem that's cropped up," murmured Mako. "Korra, Hiroshi Sato escaped from prison a week ago."

"What? How are we knowing this only now?" Korra's eyes widened. "And—does Asami know?"

Mako nodded slowly, his expression darkening. "We've been on his trail for the past week, but it's gone cold. He's straight up vanished, and with Kuvira's agents very likely still out and about, we can't spare any resources to hunt him down. He picked a very convenient time to break out."

He sighed. "Asami knows. She feels betrayed by her dad—again. Especially now that he's chosen to evade justice after all that talk about feeling sorry for what he's done. Someone needs to go talk to Asami once—once things have settled down."

"I'll handle it," said Korra, with a resigned frown. Nothing seemed to be going right of late.

"But enough bad news from my end." Mako straightened up and gave Korra a tired smile. "How did things go with the spirits?"

The Avatar shook her head in disappointment. "It was a no-sell. We can't count on the spirits to help us through this mess."

"What?" Mako threw his hands up in the air. "Why not?"

"They're reluctant to get involved in a human war. And it seems that the spirit world is also facing some sort of threat. I can't ask them to abandon their homes to fight for us."

"So we're on our own, then." Mako ran his fingers through his hair.

Korra looked thoughtful for a moment. "One of the spirits did mention someone willing to help us. A spirit warrior from their world. It sounds like most of them are scared of him. They say he's crossed over from their world into ours—and that he might be willing to fight for us against Kuvira."

"Okay." Mako raised an eyebrow. "And any leads on where we might find this...warrior?"

Korra grunted in frustration. "They say that in time, he'll find me."

"That's not helpful." Mako leaned back in his chair.

"I know. Every day Kuvira edges closer to Republic City. I can't be off on a wild-goose chase for some powerful spirit warrior somewhere in the city. I don't even know if he exists!"

Mako opened his mouth, then closed it as his eyes roved over the dossier he just tossed aside. Wordlessly, he flipped through a few pages of the sparse file, pausing over the after-action reports of the Cabbage Corp Calamity—and the sketches of a hooded, masked individual.

"Korra, there's something you might want to look at," began Mako. And then the phone rang.

The young man pulled the received clumsily towards him. "Acting-chief Mako, Republic City police."

His eyes widened, and his lips drew in a thin line. Korra stiffened as she recognised the clear signs of alarm.

"Alright. Take care Auntie Yin—please, rest a while, I'll be back soon—yes, don't worry, I'll do what I can—we'll get him back."

He replaced the receiver.

"Korra," said Mako, "Wu has just gone missing. Again."