Risho of the Black Snow (ATLA Fanfiction)

Chapter Forty-One: Old Soldiers

       Xue Lo did not stop fussing over her the entire way home. She wanted to know if Risho's vision had cleared, if her head was still swimmy, if her muscles had returned to their normal strength. All felt miserable, but Risho was sure that the worst was behind her. "Are you absolutely sure you feel alright?" she asked, rubbing at her own itchy arm. "I felt pretty normal after the first two hours...you shouldn't be as tired as-"

"After having people mess with my blood twice in one day? After watching my best friend literally die and then-"

"Risho."

"I have every right to be tired." Risho put her head against her mother's shoulder and closed her eyes by choice for the first time that day. She wondered if she'd sleep tonight or not. "You should make me soup." And lace it with enough sedatives to knock out a rhino. She'd need it. "And carry me inside."

Xue Lo thought about it for a moment. "I bet I could."

"You could not." Risho wasn't sure if she meant that or not...she simply didn't feel like throwing her mother the bone she was so obviously begging for. She rolled her eyes as the carriage slowed to a halt, gravel cracking on the road below. Home. Finally. The ride seemed to have taken longer than usual.

Her mother swung open the door, holding it ajar with one arm to let Risho duck out under it. The girl was just about to make her descent when she noticed something different about their yard. Risho frowned. "Mom?" She didn't have to explain any further. Her mother peered over her shoulder, gasping when she caught on. She nudged Risho out of the carriage and jumped out after her.

"I can't believe it. Now?" She lumbered across the lawn with an air of panic about her that stirred Risho's blood. This was weird. This was wrong. For what reason could their possibly be another carriage in their lawn? Who would possibly come visit them at this hour? Who would come at all? Why couldn't they have a quiet night at home- for once? Xue Lo tried the door. Locked. "FLAMING FIREFLAKES!" She shook the thing until the handle nearly fell off.

"Mom?" Her mother's shoulders drooped, her head thumping gently against the wooden door. Her hair hung limp- as defeated as the rest of her. She emitted a groan worthy of a dying pig-walrus. Long, strangled and exhausted. If she hadn't been so tired herself, Risho would have laughed. "Mom, what's wrong?"

The whites of Xue Lo's eyes were stark in the greyness of the night, the orange-gold of her irises seemingly the only colour for miles. Her face was haunted as she whispered; "They're here."

It felt like a story that someone would tell around a campfire, a cold wind blowing away any trace of the summer outside. Risho expected she'd go inside and find a villain, a monster, a bloodbender. She groaned herself, expecting to have to slug her way through yet another fight. Hadn't today been busy enough? Risho just wanted to sleep. She followed her mother inside, but found no terror waiting for her there...

She found two old geezers- and not the wise and noble Order of the White Lotus kind.

Dae was trying to keep the man from destroying the house. He seemed keen on smashing every vase with a series of punches and kicks that an old man shouldn't have been able to do. His partner, and old woman, had made herself at home on their couch and was leafing through one of their books. She seemed completely oblivious to the man's rampage, but noticed her mother instantaneously. "XUE LO!" She had the same chipper lilt to her voice as her mother did, like her words were racing each other to get out first. 

The old man spun around, spinning a belt of fire in their general direction. "Where!?"

Risho was really, really sick of crazy old people. Her mother cautiously put up a hand, stopping when the man startled at the movement. She waved. "Mom, dad, hi." She laughed a bit on the tail-ends of the sentence, but Risho could tell that it wasn't quite real. She took the girl's wrist. Grandparents. These were her grandparents? The ones who had helped pay for her fancy bedroom and books? The ones who hadn't even bothered to meet her?