Chapter 28: 27. Interrogation

Vulcan woke up in a claustrophobic room strapped to a chair, covered in sweat, medical gauze, and a mountain of ointment. The air burned as he greedily gulped in it, and his eyes darted furtively, looking for all signs of his captors.

He tried bending, but he could barely move his hands, and then his chest rapidly rose and fell, and he began to wiggle his head furiously.

Aaron watched with a mix of anxiety and anger--anger because the opponent that brought them so low proved to be no more than a snivelling worm when the right kind of pressure was applied, anxiety because the search for Misha could finally begin.

Perhaps they could even find her before Grandfather decided what to do with Peta.

"Hearing about Chi blocking is one thing, but seeing it is another," Mark muttered beside Aaron as he peeked into the room from the bottom slit in the door. Aaron had been watching through the upper one.

"It's like poison in the hands of a true master," Aaron said. "Usually, it takes years of practice to master, but I don't suppose that'll be a real issue in your case."

Mark smirked.

"Who's out there?" Vulcan called.

"Who do you think?" Mark snorted.

"The Child Earth bender?" Vulcan spoke with much confidence for a dead man. 

"Karma is a bitch isn't it?" Mark laughed.

"I don't fear you, child."

"You shouldn't. Master Ren should be the one you should be worried about," Mark grinned. "See, you nearly buried his Son and his student-to-be. If I were him, I'd be sharpening by bone saw. I'm going to enjoy watching him take you apart piece-by-fucking-piece."

"You're a terrible liar, Child," Vulcan scoffed, yet his voice bore a hint of panic. "Two Phantoms in one place, one is a rarity enough in itself."

"You don't need to believe me. He'll be here soon enough." Mark shut the bottom shutter and turned to Aaron. "When did you say Master Ren would be here?"

Aaron closed his eyes and listened for footfalls. "He's already here."

Ren came around the corner with a leather bag and two guards escorting him, carrying a table. Mark whistled.

"Still can't believe King Bumi is letting us do this. You know, statistically, torture doesn't work," Mark said.

Aaron hadn't tortured many people himself—only a single Fire Nation soldier when training in the Earth Temple, but he squealed eventually.

"My experience says otherwise."

"As does mine," Ren said. He gestured to the soldiers, and they pried open the metal door and shuffled the table in, much to Vulcan's dismay. He had gained some feelings in his limbs, and he was writhing like an eel.

"Shaking a tree is not the easiest way to harvest its fruit. Many come out crushed and soggy, but a few survive unspoiled." Ren flipped open the leather jacket carrying the tools. There were knives, nails, pliers, a hammer, and all other unidentifiable tools of pain that reflected gemmanite light.

The door slammed behind the two guards as they left.

"Only Airbenders can make a fruit metaphor disturbing," Mark murmured. "I guess I'll get out of your way."

Mark stepped back, giving Ren space to work, but the Older airbender's arm clamped on his shoulder, causing the boy to look up, somewhat confused.

"You're family now, Mark." His baritone voice bounced off the tiny walls. Ren picked up the smallest blade in the set and offered it to Mark. "And this is how we treat thieves, liars, and those who threaten whom we love. You've asked to learn all our secrets. Allow me to teach you the first of many."

Mark paled and looked to Mark, who watched, stone-faced. "You said you'd be the one to bash his head in. It's time to make good on that threat."

 

"I'll tell you everything you want to know!" Vulcan yelled.

Every eye turned to him, and he shrunk back as well as his restraint would let him. Aaron saw the fear in him, but he saw it for what was another trick. Vulcan had already made a fool of him once that day, and he wasn't looking to make it a habit.

Aaron would get his answers one way or another, but he couldn't help but wonder what Vulcan's plan was. Every inch of the cell was plated in metal.

Did he think he could bend his way out with Lava when his chi-circulation was restored?

Or was he stupid enough to think that his father would allow that to happen in the first place?

Or did he finally realise how outclassed he was?

Unlikely.

 

"I'll tell you about my operation, the employer, everything you want to know." He eyed the blade in Ren's palm with some trepidation and looked at Mark, who was already reaching out to take the knife. "There's no reason we can't handle this investigation like rational adults."

Ren's eyes flickered to him for a moment before they returned to Mark.

"Take it."

And Mark did. Vulcan paled a bit.

"Since you're so eager to cooperate," Ren said, folding his arms. "You should have no problem with the boy holding the knife."

Vulcan maintained an outward smile but bucked in his restraint slightly. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

"Who are you really, and what are you doing in Omashu?"

"Ah, well, where to begin? My birth name is Fao Wei, but I go by Fao or Vulcan."

"Wei," Aaron muttered. "As in, commander Wei?"

Vulcan face turned sullen. "He is my father."

"And who was your mother?"

"She is the lost Princess Fu," he answered in a low voice. Aaron's eyes widened as he reassessed the man sitting in front of him.

"So, that's how you got the map to the Undercity," Aaron said. "I suppose that answers the question of who the traitor was."

"My mother was no traitor!" Vulcan spat, jerking from his seat. "She was a prisoner of the Fire Nation, just like everybody else taken during the war, only she had the backbone to seize back her fate."

That was a nice way of describing getting into bed with the enemy and marrying him. No one mourned her when they heard the commander's mistress poisoned her.

"You take great inspiration from her," Ren said, and the look in his eyes confirmed he did. "But she lost all sympathy and title when she married the enemy, at least to the people of the Earth Kingdom. Who gave the order for that tunnel?"

Vulcan gritted his teeth and took a moment before he spoke. "General Gazon, a political rival of my father. He wanted an alternative route into the city, and he agreed to give me the lower city when I succeeded."

"And you believed him?" Mark asked, a bit surprised. "There's literarily no way you can guarantee he won't fuck you over."

"You may not realise this, whelp, but Lava benders are revered in the Fire Nation. We hold sway over the very land on which our Nation is built. We control the most destructive force on the planet!" he roared.

"That's debatable," Mark shrugged. "And if you were so special, why did you have to eke out a living as a smuggler?"

"I was the King of Smugglers!" Vulcan corrected.

"General Gazon," Ren said, taking back control of the conversation. "He wants to invade the city; when? And where does Samir come into the equation?"

Vulcan's left eye twitched, and he hitched for a second before he answered.

"He never gave me dates, but I can give you the location of our meetings. I would gladly lead you to him if we could work out a deal. Word hasn't gotten out of my failure yet. I could meet with him to learn more about the attack."

"And Samir?" Ren asked, turning Vulcan's growing smile sour.

"Samir?" he muttered. "Ah, that bastard, well he---"

Vulcan's voice cut out suddenly, and lips flopped open and close, but no words came out.

Aaron saw panic in Vulcan's eyes and opened his mouth again, but his tongue did not move.

Aaron looked at his father, who remained his stoic self but frowned ever so slightly.

Vulcan looked at them for help before he started spasming, jerking, and wreathing as his face turned blue and his throat gulped.

"The fuck is wrong with him?" Mark asked, taking a furtive step back.

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Aaron thought it had to be some play by Vulc. However, his mind changed when he saw the man turn blue.

"Is it poison?" Aaron asked.

"It might be," Ren said, "Or it could be something else," Ren's fingers shot forward and stuck Vulcan's shoulder, abdomen, solar plexus, and a dozen other chi pathways in his body. His struggle seized, and his jaw suddenly clamped down hard on his tongue, cutting it clean off.

Blood fountained from his mouth, spraying Ren and Mark with blood.

"Aaron, fetch the King's healers," Ren barked, and Aaron shot out of the room.

In the corridor, he heard his father bark out. "Get him on his side. We don't know what this is."

Aaron did not miss the uncertainty he hid in the hardness of his voice, and he shared his concern as he ran as fast as he could, even risking using Chi. If Vulcan died, they'd lose their only source of information on Misha and Samir.

More than that, it'd mean the enemy had accounted for their victory and poisoned Vulcan ahead of time.

 

Vulcan was dead.

He died, writhing in an infirmary dorm while Ren furiously pummelled his acupuncture points and wizened healers argued with each other on what tincture to combat the rare poison to give him.

It was a witherbloom found in one of the archipelagos of the Fire Nation. A powerful poison, it burned the victim's organs from the inside out, and the morticians had discovered that the thief wore false teeth containing a crushed capsule upon dissection.

Aaron had been at the back of the room, quiet as a spirit, stunned by the series of events.

He didn't speak until far into the meeting that the King had called in his dining hall to discuss strategy.

"I don't understand why the fool would kill himself moments before he could cut a deal?" Bumi said, "Not that he would've gotten one."

"He couldn't have been protecting Vulcan, either," Ren rumbled. "I've seen hundreds of his type before. They'd sooner let the world burn than risk their lives for another."

"What if he'd been forced?" Mark ventured.

His words drew the attention of the King and Ren.

"By what means?" Ren asked.

"Hypnosis?" Mark sounded unsure. "The way his eyes twitched when you brought up Samir's name. It could've been a trigger."

"Astute," Ren nodded. "But hypnosis operates through suggestion, and it typically shatters when the victim's life is at risk. It certainly doesn't explain why the Vulcan bit off his tongue or crushed that poison capsule in his mouth."

"Perhaps it could be something more," Mark said. "My system allows me to skip over years of practice. I don't see why it can't elevate his hypnosis and make it deadly."

"That's a stretch," Ren said.

"But it's the likeliest answer."

"What do you think, Aaron?" Bumi said, drawing Aaron from his thoughts. He'd been spiralling since hearing of Vulcan's death and only half-listened, but he spoke with a confidence that hid his turmoil.

"I've seen Mark outpace masters in weeks and magically produce recipes that could change the tide of the war. It's not a stretch that his double would have otherworldly powers. I'm not sure if it's hypnosis or something more dangerous. Either way, we must take care of him before he becomes a bigger problem down the line."

Ren and Bumi nodded as one.

"We profile him as an Enhanced hypnotist, with abilities bordering on mind control and treat him like a Grandmaster-level threat," Ren said. "The sooner he's in the ground, the safer we'll all be."

"What about Misha?" Aaron asked. "Grandfather said he has her. We can use her to track him, right?"

"We explored that approach during the solstice, but we haven't decided on a plan of attack," Ren said, rising to his feet. "I suppose it's one more thing we'll revisit during our meeting."

"You're going right now?" Mark asked.

"I've delayed long enough. We can't afford to wait."

"Then what will happen to my mission if you kill him?"

Ren paused to look at Mark.

"According to my system, I am supposed to face and defeat Samir 10 months from now in some epic showdown of skill and wits. If you kill him 10 months early, I might fail that mission or die or be stranded here or worse."

"I can't imagine that your system would punish you for applying yourself and using your allies," Ren said. "After all, you've been doing it since the beginning."

Mark gnashed his teeth. "But this is different. The system made the competition year-long for a reason."

"Or it could be an ordinary deadline," Ren said. "We don't have the luxury to delay on speculation. If your hypothesis on the boy is correct, he could become far more dangerous than you realise."

All it would take was access to a few trusted people, and he could topple nations.

"He would have spies anywhere and everywhere given enough time," Aaron said.

Bumi sunk into his chair with a sigh. "I would have to comb through the guards again."

"Extend your search to the city," Ren said. "Everybody could potentially be compromised."

Just the thought of fighting him sent a nasty ripple down Aaron's spine. Finding Misha would be next to impossible.

Mark scowled.

"I need to send a message immediately," Ren said again. "The sooner we move on this, the better."

Ren marched out of the room without protest, but Aaron followed behind him, his heart heavy.

"Father," Aaron called out.

If he had enough time, he would've preferred to encode the message somehow, make a plea to his father's sensibilities, without his grandfather prying.

"Misha, she has a child."

Ren's eyes widened a fraction.

"She left a message before she was captured. She wanted me to look after him. Keep him away from all of this. With us going to war with a psychopath and Fire Nation, I just thought—"

"Say no more," Ren raised his hands. "I will talk to your grandfather at the meeting. The child is the future of our Nation. He needs to be protected. Perhaps we can spare him from all of this.."

Aaron let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding in.

"Thank you, Father."

Ren nodded and stepped out, and only then that Aaron notice Mark's stare.

"Something the matter?"

"Asides from nearly melting in a cave and having my future threatened twice in one day, I'm just fine." He said as he got up. "I'm going to check on the kids, and I guess I will see you at practice later."

"He was not used to not getting his way," King Bumi said, stroking his beard as soon as Mark was out of hearing distance.

Aaron scoffed. "It's only natural when you consider where he comes from."

"His father spoiled him?"

Aaron grunted.

"You could say that."

"Then why did you take him on?"

There was a stretch of silence as Aaron thought.

"Guilt and responsibility, I guess."

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