Because I have no means of knowing that, except for disbelief, and if I do not believe I can trust my belief, it is like searching for clues as to our non-existence because of doubt that we exist. Sort of.
In any case, completely irrelevant to my current conversation
...
"You're insane," the boy tells me, "Properly mad!"
I don't doubt it some days. But, today, having told this young creature about what knowledge I've retained, I feel saner than I have in a long while.
"One day, this will all be common knowledge, and people will be able to realise what a big universe they live in."
Hearing that, the boy grows angry. "What would they care? There's-" he steels himself, "There's war! Who cares what the planet does, and the stars when fathers are fighting and dying and-"
Ah. So that's his story. Dead father, pirates come along, and he goes with them, willingly or not.
"And mothers?" I ask quietly, almost softly. I don't think I can quite manage that.
"Mothers," he spits out, quite literally at that, I'm glad none of it hits me, "Sell you to pirates for a gold piece! That's what I'm worth! A gold piece!"
Not sure how to proceed from here, this precarious position, I sit down beside him. "There's a difference between worth and price," I tell him firmly, "And the distinction is even more important than usual in your case."
He sits there, uncomprehending, but the pat on his shoulder seems to help him. Somewhat. Where's a comforting presence when you need it?
"Price is bad enough," says Mai from her spot a few paces away. She speaks quietly enough that I only just manage to hear her over the sound of the wind on the waves. This is the first time she's initiated any kind of conversation. It seems she's finally ready.
I agree with her words, and so I shrug at her. So long as the boy understands that what his mother was paid is not a figure he should ever pin to himself voluntarily.
Worth is not price, just as wealth is not money. Money is an idealistic good, something intangible when separated from the idea and the system it represents.
So long as he understands that thoughts are free, and that because he is his body, his thoughts belong with his body and he is therefore also free... Well. For that we must be aware that power is another kind of idea that people believe to be tangible because there is such a thing as physical might - two very different things entirely. Power is something you ascribe to something or someone, but it only works so long as you submit to it. The act of submission is what grants this power. (But then again, would we know it if there was a guiding line, a restricting fence to our thinking?)
To understand that, however, from his kind of perspective where any kind of power he never had is physical, is very hard. Especially when one confuses power with physical might.
But what this boy should first and foremost learn is independent thought. And that isn't fostered by handing over all the answers. There does have to be some curiosity for the answers, though.
"Yes," I reply belatedly, "Human beings are not objects to be owned."
I do not speak of how ownership itself is another human convention to support our notions of how the world goes round. How we presume to differentiate between animal and human.
"Oh? I'd have thought you wouldn't mind slavery all that much, kidnapper that you are," she spits. There is the accusation I have been waiting for. Here is her brave notion of justice as a tangible thing, and hypocrisy as something no one should strive for. Liars we all are, to ourselves the most.
"That's hurtful, you know?" I tell her, even as I wonder when the question about that different language will come up with a demand for an answer too fantastical to believe. "To accuse me of desiring power over someone when all I've ever done is kill people."
There, let's see what she does with that. Nothing, it seems, but stare.
"Taking a life is ultimately exerting power over that life. Alive becomes death. Through your hand," she says finally, after a long silence.
I smile. "True, that. What's worse? Killing or enslaving? "
She struggles to answer.
I do, too.
"So, what about you?" I ask finally. "Killed someone before?"
Silence.
"So, presuming that you haven't, how do you justify playing judge from that high horse when you could never understand the motivation, or the struggle, even the madness of the act of killing? How do you tell whether you are actually better than I am?"
"I don't go around kidnapping babies!" she exclaims, finally back on sure ground.
"Fair enough, I suppose."
"What do you know about fair?" Her tone is in equal parts condescending and disgusted as she emphasises 'you'.
"Well, it's balance, isn't it? Equality on a much less romantic scale."
I will not defend my actions. I took an opportunity to help out a scared girl, took advantage of the situation quite thoroughly and couldn't possibly stop along the way to drop off that brat.
"Romantic," she mutters under her breath before straightening. "Who are you?"
"Huh?"
"Twice now I've had to rely on you to save my friend. For weeks I've been chasing you, and for days we've been on this ship, first as prisoners now as wardens. What is your name?"
Should I...?
"Ka!" The brat demands from his perch on her hip.
I suppose I could. "I am Kaito of the Northern Watertribe."
"Mai, daughter of Ukano of the Fire Nation. I'd say it's a pleasure, but..."
That's meant to insult, is it? I give her a smile. Pride is not something I'm familiar with in more than passing acquaintance. "To me, it's been a genuine delight," I tell her this as sincerely as I can manage, which, when considering the way I tend to drawl everything I say, isn't all too shabby.
However, she finds it more insulting than had I said it with obvious sarcasm.
"How do you and my brother know the same language?"
Well. I exchange a look with the brat. He frowns at me. I lift my brows. He pouts.
I sigh. Do I truly want her to know my circumstances? Do I want to lie? Would it matter if she later found out that I lied?
Uncertainty almost forces me to tell her the truth. The brat will let her know one day. I do not know whether she and I will be in positions of contact when he does. Whether she might have some form of power over me.
Vague seems the way to go. "We… come from a similar place. That is, our spirits."
"Your spirits," she repeats in a flat tone.
I nod. That's all I'm saying. "Ask him when he begins to speak. He can decide what to tell you."
She considers her brother. She's aware that he is far more aware than a normal child.
"So what do you plan to do now?" She asks after a long silence. It seems she and I are done with pretences. That suits me just fine.
"I'll drop you off somewhere, I suppose. Wherever it is safe enough."
"It's obvious where I need to go, isn't it? Fire Nation territory," she hesitates, then adds, "I cannot guarantee that you will not be arrested there."
I don't answer her. After all, we have an agreement.
"I suppose... I could arrange for something. A pardon. Perhaps even a royal one, if the Firelord is in the right mood," her tone suggests that the man is never in the right mood.
I laugh softly.
"What?"
I shake my head. "Apologies, Mai. I find the idea of me receiving a pardon rather amusing."
She exhales audibly. "What is it that you want?" Mai asks, her voice as frosty as I have ever heard it. I don't think she likes me very much.
"I want there to be Freedom of Speech, I want Everyone's Dignity to be Untouchable and I want Free Education for Everyone," it occurs to me that I might be about to bite off more than I can chew, "But most of all, I want a damn break."
She twists her mouth into a frown. "Now is not the time for it. You should have thought of that when you ran off with Tom-Tom."
I shrug. True enough.
"So then what? How will you 'drop us off'?"
I wonder. Is she aware that while she and I have an agreement, neither Circus Girl nor Azula are part of it? Is she aware that neither of them intends to let me get away unscathed? (I would think so. Does that matter to her?)
Azula for not healing her entirely yet, and Circus Girl for almost killing her at the beginning of our acquaintance. Knocking me out in the bowels of a pirate vessel does not create any kind of balance, and there is her voice to consider. Even Mai cringes at its sound at times, and I doubt Circus Girl's sunny disposition allows her to overlook that. I am the cause of all of it.
"In four days we reach Zhenan. There the pirates can be exchanged for bounties, and you have to opportunity to gain passage back to the Fire Nation."
She nods, and leaves.
...
Don't forget to throw some power stones :)
...
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