#chaeryu

Hitori was at the deck, looking out at sea, when Second Lieutenant Hansuke interrupted her: “Admiral, ma’am. Good morning.” “Good morning, Lieutenant.” She turned to him, still distracted. He handed her a letter: “Delivered by hand, during the night, ma’am. From the Avatar’s Estate.” “Thank you.” — as the dragon-coconut scent hit her, she took a quick look at the calligraphy: “You are excused, Lieutenant.” She sighted, then smiled. Hei-Ran Sei’naka. When had they last had tea? Their kids were still kids, her girl a little younger. Their husbands were alive. Chaeryu was Fire Lord. Hei-Ran was Zoryu’s master. She was Rear Admiral. That had been a long time ago.

Back at her chambers, Hitori opened the letter with care, making sure to keep the envelope intact. She despised untidiness. Hei-Ran understood that. She’d always had. It seemed the Avatar had succeeded in stopping the pirates’ operations in the Eastern Sea. That was some impressive work. She’d need marines to clean the area. Yes. Capture escapees. Sure. She’d need to write to the Fire Lord, to the War Minister in Ba Sing Se, and to the southern governors. Hei-Ran must have done that. She’d write them a letter as well. It’s always better to make sure, she thought.

Hitori sat at her desk and positioned her writing tools. She loved to prepare the ink. The repetitive motion, the smell. It was all so soothing. She pulled six stamped papers and addressed all the authorities implicated. Her writing sleek and clear. She melted the red wax and closed each letter, scrupulously, with the Navy seal. She called Hansuke in and handed him the envelopes. She gave him instructions. He closed the door behind him. She sighted. Only then she grabbed some unmarked paper. “High Commander Hei-Ran Sei’naka,” she wrote and then stopped short. No, she thought, and took a new page. “Dear Hei-Ran,” that was better.