Chapter Twenty: About the Galvanized Moon and Her Rings in the Rain

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In Song Lee's years as Master Piandao's student, meltdowns had become increasingly rare. It wasn't that Song Lee was more content than she had been with her father or aunt. She wasn't. Under her father and aunt, at least, she had the unlimited time and energy to do what she wanted, and she more or less got whatever she wished for. Under Master Piandao, that changed. She got used to discipline. She got used to routine. She got used to rarely getting what she wanted, and she got used to Master Piandao's will and what that meant for her as his student. She learned how to work her own problems out and how to stay calm under pressure. She learned to wield a sword.

During those two years, Song Lee saw her mother only once.

"I don't want to go," she told her father.

It had been months since she'd seen him last; his promotion to Vice Admiral had kept him busy with the Fire Nation's fleet, and visits were kept to a minimum. This was one of her only breaks from her teacher, and for some reason, her father was using it to try and get her to reconcile with her mother. Again.

"Your aunt agrees with me," her father told her. "You can't just avoid her forever."

"It's worked so far."

Her father just shook his head and adjusted the sails.

Despite his access to steam-powered war ships, Song Lee's father had always preferred sailing. It had been years since he'd been able to, though; it had once been an annual tradition of his and Song Lee's. Sometimes his sister-and-law would come, too, and at one point her mother had come along (though Song Lee knew it hadn't been by her own free will). That had been the only time that Song Lee and her father hadn't had a nice time on the boat.

Now, they were using their tradition to sail to the Fire Nation from an embassy in the Earth Kingdom that they had stopped by after leaving Master Piandao. Song Lee liked the Earth Kingdom. Most of what she knew about the stars had come from scrolls imported from major Earth Kingdom cities before the war had started.

"Why do you want us to get along so badly?" Song Lee asked.

"She's your mother," he said. "If it weren't for her, you wouldn't exist."

"I think she would be much happier if that were the case."

"Hush. I had a great relationship with my stepmother. I want you to have a motherly figure in your life."

"I have my aunt."

"She's an aunt-figure."

Song Lee disagreed, but she wasn't interested in talking about it anymore. She decided she'd rather enjoy the peace and quiet while it lasted. The Fire Nation came into view before another thought could run through her head, and she sighed to herself.

Actually docking at the island her mother lived on wasn't terrible; the dock workers knew her well enough to smile at her, and she knew them well enough to recognize that they were smiling, not leering. She didn't remember their names, and she doubted they remembered hers. She had that sort of relationship with a lot of people.

Once on the island, the walk to her mother's house wasn't terrible, either. The island was known throughout the country for its seasonal maples, and the leaves were just beginning to change. In just a few weeks, it would look like the trees were on fire. She enjoyed that aspect (and probably that aspect alone) of her mother's island.

It was when the house came into view that Song Lee really started dragging her feet.

It wasn't a bad house as houses went, even on the island. Traveling with her aunt through the poorer villages had revealed to Song Lee the picture of poverty, and the reclusive wife of a Vice Admiral of the Fire Nation navy did not live in poverty. It was small, clearly meant to house no more than two or three people, but it was nice and well-insulated, and it had a picture-perfect view of the mountain-valley lake it sat beside.

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