Kallik watches the door through too-long hair.
"What do you suppose has the gull-pipers flocking?" Hanta asks from his cage two down and across the catwalk.
"Dunno," Nuniq grumbles from the cage directly facing Kallik's own, "Nothin' good for us. Never is."
"Tch!" Hanta chides, "This place is depressing enough without your pessimism."
Nuniq answers only with a halfhearted shrug and a grunt.
"Quiet!" Aput hisses, located far to Kallik's left and closest to the cellblock door, "Boots!"
A second.
Two.
He can hear the ring of hardened soles on steel floors for himself now.
Four.
Fi--
The door opens and several guards swarm into the room. Torches are lit in rapid succession, the light harsh on eyes that have grown used to the prison's evening darkness.
So much for any hopes that the ruckus would pass them by.
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Ozai has never actually met Warden Masaki before. He hadn't had the time to personally see to the release of the Southern Water Tribes' benders, between the pressure from the Earth Kingdoms to decolonize the Eastern Continent's western shores, and the Fire Nation's own reluctance to accept the results of the war's end. Still, there hadn't been any reported problems transferring custody of the prisoners to Chief Hakoda and his warriors to be taken back to the South. There shouldn't be any reason for Masaki to cause any trouble this time, either.
"Rise," he commands. "Politics in Caldera have been changing rapidly, including the course of the war. The waterbenders held here are of particular interest to Moon Spirit Tui."
"I... see," Warden Masaki says as his gaze slides over to Tui, seemingly taking in the Moon Spirit properly for the first time. Ozai isn't sure how. Tui literally glows in the dark. Even standing within the ring of light from Ozai's sustained firebending, the Moon Spirit shines brighter than white silk alone can account for. "Forgive me. We received word that the spirits had grown active in Caldera, and we witnessed for ourselves Agni's second sun over the capital this morning, but we had not considered that the Moon Spirit may come to visit us... here."
Ozai lifts an eyebrow. "Is there a problem, Warden?"
The man opens his mouth, hesitates, and then admits, "Quite possibly, my lord."
"Warden?"
Masaki's eyes glance over at Tui again before he answers, "I am uncertain these concerns should be discussed in present company, your majesty."
"Warden Masaki," Tui cuts in, "I am not unfamiliar with war, nor with man's cruelty to their fellow man."
Masaki's expression turns grim as he says, "...While I do not doubt your words, great spirit, you are the patron of my prisoners. Your presence alone could insight a riot. If not tonight, then perhaps in the future."
"I do not seek to inspire conflict," Tui assures.
"Tui is here at my invitation," Ozai says before the warden can try another carefully worded objection, "Any issues that result from my decision will just have to be dealt with as they materialize."
"Of course, your majesty," the warden says, though his misgivings remain clearly painted across his features. "And the... third member of your party?" he asks, gesturing with an upturned hand at the limp form slung over Tui's shoulder.
"A returned prisoner," Tui says, "Hama of the Southern Seas."
The warden suddenly appears pale as death. "...the witch?"
Ozai hopes he's managed to better disguise his own surprise at Tui's words. "You aren't taking her back to her tribe?" That had been his assumption when he'd seen that Tui had spared the bloodbender's life, but apparently that is not to be the case.
"I cannot. Ferrying mortals across the boundaries of man's wars is forbidden under the current charter. The exceptions created by right of my claim allow me to return Hama of the Southern Seas to the place where she first abused my name, but no further," Tui speaks firmly, but the spirit's eyes hold regret, "With our arrival here, the completion of my judgement and claim are nigh. Beyond that, her fate, and that of all the waterbenders housed within this prison, will lay under your authority, Fire Lord."
"I see." Just to be sure, he asks, "Then you likewise will not be escorting the other waterbenders back to their nation tonight?"
"No." So much for the easy option. Tui dips his head and holds Ozai's gaze as he says, "I would, however, be most grateful for any mercy you might extend to all who I will be leaving in your care."
Ozai glances at the still unconscious woman that has caused so much suffering. He can't help the scowl that steals across his face but he nods all the same. "I understand."
Warden Masaki clears his throat but his voice is still strained as he asks, "The prisoners are scheduled to be released, then?" The man doesn't take his eyes from the bloodbender.
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"No schedule yet, but there are plans to return them to the South," Ozai corrects and barely keeps himself from slipping into a grumble as he adds, "Once I can arrange transport for them." He's not sure how he's supposed to accomplish that without causing an international incident -- at best -- but he'll figure something out. "For now, let's start with a tour of the facility."
"If I may?" the warden interjects a bit desperately, "Perhaps we should secure that one first, if the prisoners are not to be immediately relocated?"
"That may be necessary," Tui admits with a sigh.
If both Tui and Masaki have reached the same conclusion, Ozai isn't about to argue with them. "Lead the way, Warden."
"Yes, your majesty!" Despite his words, Masaki hesitates before visibly forcing himself to turn his back on the incapacitated bloodbender that so obviously unnerves him.
Ozai refrains from commenting on the man's apparent and persistent fear over a single waterbender. It isn't as if the agitation is unjustified, given what Ozai has witnessed of Hama's actions thus far. The remembered image of dirty faces with hollow cheeks is chased by the stench of waste and decay. If that is what Hama is capable of doing with her freedom, what must she have been willing to do to break her chains?
Ozai doubts the answer is one he wants to hear.
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The steel is unyielding, heavy, and familiar. What is not familiar is the timing. Firebenders rarely do anything under the full moon other than patrol or sleep. They certainly do not feed or bathe waterbenders at such a disadvantageous time.
"What happened?" Kallik asks the guard securing him in shackles, "Why are we all being chained?"
Sergeant Yasu glances at him briefly, but the other man says nothing. Kallik would not expect otherwise. He likes Yasu well enough, considering that they each belong firmly on opposing sides of a generations-long war, but the young man is unfailingly serious in his tasks.
After the last manacle is fastened and locked, Yasu answers in a lowered voice, "A man claiming to be the Fire Lord has come to Kitaika. Apparently, he wields the white flames. The warden has gone out to meet him."
"The Fire Lord?" Kallik wonders. That has never once happened in all the years he has been held captive in this building of unfeeling metal. What could have prompted such a visit? "I hope I'm presentable enough," he jokes. He must have been the last of Yasu's responsibilities to secure this time because the firebender lingers long enough to listen to his response.
"This is precautionary. I doubt the Fire Lord, current or ascendant, will bother to check in on the prisoners personally." Ascendant? Has the throne come into question? Could this be the reason most of the guards had been so distracted all through the day? "And you look as well as you ever do," Yasu dismisses curtly, but he scrutinizes Kallik up and down with pursed lips before reaching out and straightening the shoulders of Kallik's prisoner tunic. Brusque but careful hands push Kallik's hair back from his face. "I can't help you if you let it slip forward again."
Kallik allows himself a wry huff rather than the chuckle he knows would ruffle the feathers of an easily embarrassed chick. Not for the first time, Kallik thinks of how Yasu might have benefitted if he had possessed a few more friends during his childhood years. Regardless, attempts at kindness should be acknowledged, and especially in places like this. "Thank you."
The young sergeant offers a stiff nod and walks away to tend to whatever his next duty is to be tonight.
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Masaki does not much care for the padded isolation cells nestled at the heart of Kitaika, but there are times when they have proven necessary and he has never been more grateful for their existence than he is now. With the return of the blood witch, he is not sure where else she could be placed, let alone held. Unfortunately, they aren't designed for long-term detainment. He's going to need to come up with something else sooner rather than later. Regardless, an isolation cell will have to do until at least the full moon is past them.
He oversees Sergeants Hiroto and Michi as they fasten the restraint jacket with more attention than he has given to any procedure performed in the prison before it. He pays similar attention to the locking of the door. Only once the cell and its occupant are secured does some of the tension begin to leave his shoulders, but even then the relief is minimal.
He knows the blood witch -- 'Hama,' according to the Moon Spirit's words. -- solely by the stories she left behind. The report written by his predecessor (left at the top of everything, like a warning, or a premonition) had recounted the results of Kitaika's lone successful escape attempt with a deceptively concise bullet point summary followed by pages of ruthless detail. Three guards had been slain by the night's end, another four were crippled for life, and one inmate had been murdered. The inmate's death had been particularly chilling. Her lungs had filled with her own blood and she'd drowned in her still locked cell before the chaos had settled. Every interview Masaki had conducted upon accepting his current position as Kitaika's warden, both formal and informal, whether with surviving guards or less reticent prisoners, had only confirmed and further built upon the previous warden's assertions. As far as Masaki can tell, as harsh and rigid as Warden Akira is reputed to have been, the man hadn't deserved his forced retirement, nor the dishonorable mark on his military record that had come with it.
And now a Fire Lord wielding Agni's Flames and a great spirit have seen fit to return the blood witch.
Masaki has never particularly enjoyed his job as a prison warden, but he cannot recall another time when he has so fervently regretted not resigning from the military after completing his years of mandatory service. He should have gone back to work the family farm while he'd had the option. If he had, he wouldn't be here, wondering whether death or dishonor would find him first.
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"This is the nearest occupied cellblock," Warden Masaki explains, opening a door that looks much the same as all the others in the prison, "There are four-hundred and seventeen prisoners currently interned in Kitaika. Each block has a maximum capacity of fifty inmates. The standard cellblocks are all uniform in their construction and the procedures followed, but I can escort you to each of them if that is your desire, Fire Lord."
Ozai barely hears the other man speaking. His gaze traces over hungry faces with too-attentive eyes and he wishes that this wasn't precisely the same sort of tableau that he'd become suddenly familiarized with in an abandoned mine scarcely an hour ago.
"Worse than I might have hoped, but better than I had most feared," Tui sighs, sounding tired, "It seems to be the unfortunate pattern this night is destined to follow."
"I'm sorry," Ozai finds himself saying in a hoarse voice. It is an entirely inadequate offering for the wronged spirit standing beside him, let alone the people caged and shackled in front of him, "I didn't realize..."
He'd meant to leave them like this until he'd had the warfront stabilized. That goal alone might take him months to accomplish, and in the meantime these people would have --
A hand falls to rest on his shoulder. Ozai looks over to discover sympathy on Tui's face.
"You had no part in this. Not the construction of the building nor the orders to imprison my people within it," Tui says, "And I have faith that you will act with compassion where your ancestors have shown only cruelty. You owe me no apologies, young Fire Lord."
Doesn't he?
Ozai swallows past the horror and shame before giving Tui an accepting nod.
"I'll fix this," he promises.