The Avatar's Master

18. The Stranger (Kuvira Alone)

Part 2

One year later...

In a small desert town deep within the former Earth Kingdom, a scorpion lazed its way across the dirt path on Main Street. The air was hot and dry, even for autumn when the sun would blaze a cloudless heat in the day and the night would cool down to freezing.

The boardwalk on Main was lined with shanty buildings leading toward the train station, the town's lifeline back to wider civilization save for the long dirt road wending hundreds of miles around and through other such towns. The region was called Isaan, and the town was named after it.

But still, hundreds of years after its settlement, Isaan had yet to modernize, yet to attract much more than fur trappers and miners or outlaws and other anonymous travelers passing through. And in that way, it became known for its transient population, providing bars and brothels and boarding. The locals often longed for a way out or were too afraid, too settled in their desert isolation to know anything different.

Three burly men wearing assorted shades of green rode through Main Street on camelelephants, passing by the scorpion who raised its pointed tail in defense as dust kicked up behind them. They tied their camelelephants up in front of a saloon and followed the leader with his cocksure gait behind the swinging double doors.

Inside the saloon people went about their business at this table or that, playing Pai Sho here or card games there. The smell of cigar smoke and stale fire whiskey filled the room, and the men took a seat at the bar, their backs facing a dark corner where a mysterious patron had sat quietly for hours in the shadows, sipping cup after cup of hot leaf juice.

A barmaid making her rounds approached.

"Refill stranger, or can I get you something a little stronger?"

The stranger did not look up, her face obscured by her wide-brimmed hat and most of her body buried in the shadows. She was watching the men at the bar.

"Fine. I'll take a dark ale," the stranger husked in a sultry voice.

The barmaid nodded and collected the empty tea cup. Soon, she came back around with a deep brown ale. She noticed the stranger's steady gaze on the men at the bar and said:

"Those guys over there – they're thugs if you ask me."

"Oh?" This admission piqued the stranger's interest, and she titled her hat back to take a look at the gal. A young and comely woman with doe-like hazel eyes nodded. The stranger continued, "Well, I didn't ask, but now I'm even more curious. So please, do tell."

"They come once every coupla weeks – to collect what they call tithings. Say it's for protection, yadda yadda yadda, you know the drill. Anyway, it's a little more serious because they work for a warlord-type in this area. While some cities, especially the modern ones, transitioned easily to democracy after the fall of the Earth Empire, other places – forgotten ones like this – have become pockets of territories ruled by – "

"I see," the stranger interrupted, not needing to hear more. She already knew about the political situation and could likewise smell henchman a mile away. Deciding it wasn't worth it, she moved on from the topic. "How much do I owe you?" she said.

The bar maid smiled and shook her head.

"It's on the house."

"Thank you. Cheers," the stranger, relieved because she was broke, lifted the glass and smiled back before taking a swig of the warm, bitter ale.