#aimless

He had no love for the benders on the Council or the preferential treatment this republic gave benders, but these Equalists weren’t all that much better. The number of ex-benders he had encountered over the past few days was surprising. He knew there were many benders who weren’t fighters, would never be ‘masters’ of their elements. Mothers who could light stovetops. Dads who could make a little ice in the summer. Kids all across the city who made extra money in the springtime helping turn the earth in gardens.

And everywhere, he saw people he knew to be benders who all had a certain vacant stare, as if they were listening for the footsteps of someone who would never come back.

With a shake of his head, he tried to focus on the here and now.

He might not be a bender, but the patrols didn’t ask questions after curfew. You were either in your home, your job, or your cell at police headquarters.

Beifong was only barely competent at her job, but she at least kept the jails in working order. The non-benders he had interviewed after being harrassed and released said things were bad. Not much food, too many bodies in each space. Benders and non-benders crowded into wings without regard for their bending type. The firebenders kept having to be removed from the waterbender cells for trying to burn the cages.

Raiko had been talking to people throughout the occupation, and he could tell two things: one, that no benders were being released, with or without their bending; and two, that conditions in those cells were getting worse by the day.

The Equalists were behaving like the eel-hound that caught its own tail.

He grimmaced, remembering the professor who once said the worst thing to happen to an insurgency was to win. They were never prepared, and once they had to settle into the mundane business of governing. Once their leader died, there was an aimless period where infighting began to ruin everything, mostly harming the common people their movement once had tried to help.

Squealing tires shattered his thoughts. He ducked behind a pile of crates.

A car screeched to a halt and one of its door opened long enough for a person to fall (get pushed?) out and crash to the road.

The door closed and the car sped off into the night.

The person didn’t seem to be moving, but was far away that he wouldn’t be able to see them breathe.

Before he could come to a decision about what to do (if anything), the person propped themself up, got their knees under their torso, and slowly stood.

When she straightened, she just happened to be facing right at him, the streetlight showing him Beifong’s unmistakable face.

A face with that vacant stare.

Beifong had lost her bending.

Raiko staggered into the crates, which scraped against each other.

He didn’t like her. Never had, couldn’t imagine he ever would.

But for Lin Beifong, daughter of the war hero Toph, to lose control of her earthbending?

She took a step, and he froze, worried the noise had gotten her attention.

But she turned to her left and took another step.

But she stopped again.

He watched her for several minutes as she would take one or two steps, stop, change direction, take a step, and stop again.

Until her legs gave out, and she crashed to her knees before slumping back to the ground.

He didn’t like her. Never had, couldn’t imagine he ever would.