I was practically walking on air on my way back to the Liángshí Street, riding this high, no intention of letting it go any time soon. My trip having just taken a little over an hour, I was on my way back to Reek, selling this time, a treasure trove of information in this head of mine. Hornets with Fire Nation weapons. If that wasn't news to fill the streets, I don't know what was. I bargained this could get me at least a silver. Hell, if I argued enough, maybe even 2. Aim high, hit low.
I pondered in my head just how to approach the subject, hoping Reek was still around as I was sure I could strike a better deal with him than anybody else within the Rats. Reek, I pondered. This information is of the utmost importance. It is imperative that it reaches Miro in time to-no. That just sounded stupid. Don't play the loyalty card. They know loyalty didn't mean anything to me.
I got to the Liángshí Street in good enough time and was relieved to see that not only was Reek still present, but he was alone. Great. The less interference, the better. I closed the distance between us, nodding in greeting Reek as I approached, catching his attention easily enough, a small look of surprise on his face clearly in seeing me back so soon.
"Look," he said as I got closer. "I know how lonely you get when you're not around me, but this is just a bit extreme."
I chuckled. "Not about that this time. Turns out I'm selling."
"Ooh. Let me guess. 'It's of the utmost importance.'"
To that, I had to laugh. I had played that routine in the past and had gotten my ass kicked over it on more than one occasion, one time even by Reek before we knew each other as well as we did now. That hadn't been the most fun of days, but I think something about me spitting the blood out, standing back up, and asking, "So you're interested?" had somehow won his respect. At least enough so that he didn't knock me out a second time.
"So," Reek said. "Whatchu got for me?"
"Alright, well. As you know, I went to the hive and-"
I didn't have time to get another word in edgewise before the resounding gong of the city bell clanged overhead.
Our heads both turned to meet the noise, the bell tower just barely visible over the interior wall where, sure enough, within its confines, the bell was being rung.
"Recruitment drive?" wondered Reek. "Already?"
Having lived in Taisho for all our lives, we were no stranger to the bells and what they meant. One gong signaled a recruitment drive designed to lure out the starving kids who would look great in Fire Nation uniforms, two marking an execution, as close as this city got to a public celebration, and three marking the complete opposite-invasion.
In my years in this city, I'd heard all but the third, and so we stood there still, all activity on the streets frozen to a halt as we waited to hear if any more would come, the space in between them always feeling like hours when in reality, they were only seconds.
The second came, and we waited longer, none of us even able to pray against invasion as we simply had no idea of what it would entail. We had no way of knowing if it was something to fear or anticipate with open arms, but we waited anyway, wondering if today would be the day.
No third gong came. My shoulders eased down in relief, an action that confused myself as I theoretically had no reason to not desire invasion, but something about the thought of it however still never ceased to terrify me.
Reek seemed equally as inexplicably relieved, turning to me then to me as I asked, "Who do you think it is this time?"
"No idea. Maybe they caught a spy?"
"Maybe. Wanna go?"
He shrugged. "Eh, sure. Why not. Got nothing better to do today. Tell me these wonderful tales of yours once it's over. I'll get some more guys to hear you out if it's really that important."
I nodded, not particularly enthused about the concept of the crowd, but figuring it was warranted for a situation such as this. "Sure thing," I responded.
From there, it was a simple trek down the Liángshí Road among the crowd of others who were making their way there. The interior gates only opened on 2 occasions: to let in or out troops and supplies, or for recruitment drives and executions. On occasions such as these, the gates were opened, and a steady stream of Slumdogs were allowed into a heavily guarded plaza of the inner city, no shortage of armed personnel to ensure we didn't roam beyond the open area. Some had tried before, only to be quickly and easily rooted out and tossed back into the slums.
The guards were already separating the flow of Slumdogs into organized lines to the best of their ability, padding each and every person who passed through in turn, guards ever at the ready to put down the first animal that posed a threat, because 'animal' was simply about what they viewed us as. Are they wrong?
It came turn soon enough for me and Reek to be padded down, quickly and inefficiently, them completely skipping over my shiv, which, in all fairness, was too run down and small to actually serve as a lethal weapon unless I really put all of my pathetic weight behind it. We were promptly shoved inside this restricted area of the inner district.
The city center, as it always was on such occasions, was packed to the brim with an ever-growing influx of Taisho residents of all social castes. That wasn't to say we were joined together as one, mind you. While the inner-city residents had front row seats, making up the vast majority of spectators near the podium, Slumdogs were restricted via metal barricades to stay behind a certain point, ensuring that we didn't "contaminate" the good residents of the inner city. I remember 1 year and a half ago when an idiot kid had tried to mug one of the inner-city residents and had been promptly caught and beaten to near death by local security. I never had caught his name, but all I remember was that he was a local legend for the single day he remained alive before he succumbed to his wounds and died shortly after.
Memories of incident such as that made me wonder all the more what would transpire today. If perhaps there'd be a gang attack, a mugging, or just a plain-old execution. Who's up to the headstone today?
Piled behind scores of people taller than either of us, we realized quick enough that we'd have to resort to old habits to get a better look, crawling beneath the metal barricades and dashing into the crowd of city folk. It didn't take any convincing for them to move aside for us, them behind more than happy to minimize contact with us "savages." Some attempted calling for security, but over the rest of the commotion of the city plaza, their cries fell on deaf ears.
We arrived to the front just in time. The show was about to begin.
4 soldiers already were stood in position at the 4 corners of the stage, setting the scene for the officer who rose up from behind, escorted by 2 more guards as he walked to the front of the stage. He was a tall and lean man, well built, clearly not having been starved half of his life, a smirk denoting an overinflated ego painting his face.
He stood calmly for a few moments, waiting for the chatter to begin to die down so he could be heard with the aid of a megaphone mounted on a small tripod. Eventually, the clamor died down enough to a point that he deemed sufficient for himself to be heard above.
"People of Taisho!" His booming voice echoed through the center, gathering the attention of those who hadn't been paying attention before. Even the Slumdogs went quiet. Not out of respect, but simply out of interest. These events came by quite rarely, and so when they did, we paid attention. Who knew what we'd miss otherwise?
"Today, I come to you all with proof of the superiority of our great Nation! To those who support us, we want to say, that what we do today, and every day is to protect you-our citizens. Those who stand by us shall be our equals for all those who stand proudly under the banner of our proud nation are equals in the eyes of our great Fire Lord Azulon! Continue to stand with us! And you will be one of us! To those of us who stand against us, let this example of evil..." he said gesturing to a man I had not noticed standing in the back, surrounded by 4 guards on each corner. I was surprised by the number of guards attending him. The man was rather aged with a longer white beard, shaggy white hair, and obvious wrinkles and a general sense of wear and tear painting his face. He was dressed in rags, but I could still see how deathly skinny the man was, bones visible, looking as though they were ready to pop out of his paper-thin skin at any moment. Hell, he looked worse than I did. I shuddered to think of what went on in whatever cell he was being kept in.
The officer continued, "...Is the very example of what you will become. Stand against us and we will hunt you down to our last breath. Let this traitor be an example of what we do to our enemies and what, in time, will happen to them all!"
He nodded at the guards to bring the man forward. The rear 2 guards kicked the man's knees in underneath him, bringing him to the ground as the front 2 grasped both of his arms, literally dragging him to the head block at the center of the stage.
"This man" the Officer resumed "Goes by the name Lee Shuni, but this was one of many lies. This traitor is an assassin sent by a cult of Air Nation extremists who wish to dismantle our nation starting by destroying our great city by allowing the Earth Kingdom to march in and kill each and every one of you! In truth, he is an Air Cultist known as Gyani, no greater purpose in his life than to see each and every one of you dead!"
To that, he was met with an orchestra of jeers and curses-a chorus that Reek and I joined in on, not having anything much better to do. It was part of the fun after all.
The officer placed a booted foot onto the small of the man's back, forcing him to the ground, the old man's neck landing squarely on the head block beneath.
In a blatant show of authority, he craned his neck down to face the old man and asked through gritted teeth, "Any last words, treasonous scum?!"
None of us had been expecting any. He didn't seem the type. We'd seen some last words before in the form of simple curses, final jokes, even one pathetic speech that had fallen on deaf ears. A man of this age and stature, however, we didn't expect much, and so our surprise was apparent when he slowly lifted his head, turning his eyes to the crowd where they simply rested for a while, scanning back and forth. Is he looking for somebody he recognizes? His eyes drifted over me, and then they stopped. It was only for a moment, and they continued shortly after. What the hell? Was he? No. Of course not. I'm just imagining things. His eyes lost the focus from before, seemingly not as intent as finding anything in particular, as though he'd already found what he was looking for. What the-
"People of the Fire Nation! Please! Open your eyes! Your government is lying to you! Everything this man has said is just a lie meant to deceive you. Don't let them fool you any longer! Save yourself—" He was cut off by the officer kicking him in the stomach, sending him rolling onto his side off of the block, the 2 soldiers behind him promptly setting him back on.
"Headsman!" the officer yelled, wasting no time. The large man who had been waiting didn't let a second got to waste as he, in what felt like one fluid motion, donned his hood, grabbed his great axe, prowled across the stage to the head block, raised his weapon ever so slowly, and brought it down in the blink of an eye.