Drowning is a horrible way to die.
That was Marca's only thought as she sunk into the salty, frigid waters of the southern ocean. She had been on a vessel steaming south to the lands of the Southern Water Tribe, the homeland of her Mother, and a place she had only visited briefly when she was very little. That occasion had been a happy one, with her parents and sister all enjoying the cold snow and pristine lakes, things that were quite lacking in their hometown deep within the Earth Kingdom's borders.
But here she was now, sinking deep into the cold depths of the ocean, no one around to save her, especially not her twin sister, the graceful water bender. And of course, Marca's own talents in earth bending weren't going to help her get out of this situation, unless of course the ocean bottom was much closer to the surface than everyone was led to believe.
Her lungs burned, as she held her last breath in her chest, her eyes screwed tightly shut as she attempted to swim up and away, her arms flailing sluggishly in the pitch black of the open ocean; her legs refused to move, the explosion on the tiny vessel had apparently crippled her somehow, though at the moment she couldn't have realized that. She didn't have enough strength to swim up, not with debris in the water all around her, her legs useless, and no earth beneath her bare feet to propel her up and out of her icy coffin.
Her mother would be devastated, but Lumi, her sister, even more, especially since she could have saved the day, for once. The pressure squeezing Marca's chest finally pushed out the last of her air in a breathless gasp, icy saltwater rushing in to fill her lungs as her awareness dimmed.
Marca shivered on the beach, cold water lapping at her ankles where she had washed ashore. Sun, brilliantly warm sun, was beaming down on her, long, braided blonde pigtails already beginning to dry. Chest heaving, the bronze skinned earth bender rolled onto her side, vomiting water over the sand, her legs and chest screaming in agony, the rest of her body shivering with the onset of hypothermia. Marca blinked and looked around groggily. Here were not the lands of the Southern Water Tribes. It was also not the southernmost tip of the Earth Kingdom. This looked more like the lands of the mid-continental region where she was raised. Her heavy green fur lined coat soaked through, and she struggled out of it, sitting up and rolling into a drier patch of sand. She lay there panting, shivering, for several minutes, slowly drifting in and out of consciousness before a heavy wave crashed over her, and she started awake. She lifted her head sleepily as voices, as if from a distance, met her ears. She paused, trying to locate the sound, voice cracking as she tried to speak, to cry out for help. Her eyes focus on a pair of figures moving down the beach, idling in the surf- a man and woman.
…A woman with the tail of a fish.
Right- she was dead after all then.
Marca next awoke to the smell of fried rice and sizzling fish. Her nose twitched at the smell of good, rich food, and she opened her eyes slowly as she heard more voices. Raising her head slightly, she found that she was tucked securely, if not tightly, into a small bed that barely fit her tall, 5'11” frame; tall for a woman that is. Or, that's at least what she was thinking before a woman nearly two feet taller than her ducked under the door frame that was meant for an average person, her skin tinted bluish-gray, eyes dark gray and looking over Marca's prone form.
“You're awake.” It was a statement, rather than a question.
“You're a demon?” That was a question. The woman's oddly colored skin and imposing form didn't produce any other solution in Marca's frazzled mind.
“…A demon? No, no, what makes you think that?” The tall gray woman was taken aback, a strong, large hand pressed to her chest; her bare chest. Now, Marca knew that some remote cultures in the Earth Kingdom allowed woman to go around as bare as this gray-woman was, but she had never encountered such a person so free with nudity up close a personal, so to speak, and so she turned her head as the gray-woman moved to the door-less frame and called out for someone.
A few moments later, a more human-looking figure poked his head in. “You're awake.”
“That's what I said.” The gray-woman used an oversized hand to tousle the newcomer's short, jet black hair. The young man waved her off good-naturedly and asked her to bring a serving of food in a bowl. He moved to Marca's bedside and took a seat on a low wicker stool.
The brown-haired earth-bender looked up at him green eyes quizzical. “She's not a demon?” She struggled for a minute with the blankets before extricating her hands, trying to sit up. The young man pushed her back down, a strong hand holding her shoulder steady as she tried to shrug him off. He looked back over his shoulder where the gray-woman had exited the room, frowning.
No, she's not a demon, what makes you ask that? And stay still, I found you with two broken legs. They've been healed, but you still need rest before you can move around more than a few haphazard steps at a time.” His eyes twinkled. “You tried that, in your sleep, just so you know. Fell right over and smacked your forehead on the bedpost. I had to heal that too before it swelled.” He nodded at her surprised expression as the gray-woman re-entered the room with a handmade ceramic bowl, filled with piping hot sticky rice and grilled fish, some kind of light brown, slightly peppery-smelling sauce drizzled over it. The young man reached down and lifted her head, helping her adjust herself as he inserted a pair of pillows between her back and the headboard, helping her prop herself up into a relaxed sitting position. “There, just don't try to get out of bed yet.”
She took the offered bowl and looked at the pair. “She has gray skin.”
“Yes. What of it? Zee has blue-green skin.”
“Who is Zee? She has gray skin.” Marca repeated as she gestured with the pair of chopsticks she had been grateful to find sticking out of the bowl. She slowly lifted the bowl to her chin, inhaling deeply before tucking in, shoveling rice and fish into her mouth as fast as she could manage.
“Zee is my Vaporita, she and I found you on the beach.” He turned to look at his gray-skinned companion and raised an eyebrow. “Laura has gray skin because she is an Amachoke- a fighting pokegirl.”
“…A what-girl? And she fights? …With who?”
Laura spoke up. “With whoever needs to be fought.”
Marca paused at that and shrugged. It made a certain kind of sense.
The black haired man continued. “A pokegirl. You do know what a pokegirl is, don't you?”
“A pokee-girl? Is that a type of demon?” For all her apparent concern that Laura was a demon, she didn't stop eating; only keeping a wary eye on the tall, muscular woman.
He turned to Laura. “Maybe she hit her head harder than we thought. Think we should call the doctor back now? He said to keep her comfortable until he returned tomorrow, but she's awake now... and this...” The young man gestured at Marca.
“I don't know what a pokee-girl is, but you don't think she's a demon, and she brought me food that hasn't killed me, so I don't think she is either.” Marca's rather simplistic logic made sense to her, even if it left expressions mixed between exasperation and bewilderment on Laura and the man's faces.
“A pokegirl- Po-ke-girl.” He sounded it out for her, pronouncing it slowly.
“Po-ke-girl. Pokegirl.”
“Yes.”
“What's a pokegirl?”
It was at that moment that the fish-woman Marca had seen on the beach, Zee, walked in the doorway to the small bedroom. The earth-bender woman's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, and she spasmed in the bed, convulsively throwing the earthen bowl in her grasp with unerring accuracy right at the newcomer's forehead. “Demon!” Marca tried to scramble out of bed even as the young man practically sat on her, not even noticing that Laura had snatched the bowl out of mid-air less than an inch from Zee's face, and was now busy whispering into the Vaporita's pointed ear. Zee's eyes widened in shock and she quickly backed from the room, showing wise foresight.
“Calm down, calm down!” The young man literally had to shout over Marca's panicked attempts to flee. Laura was idly picking grains of rice from her blouse as Marca slowly calmed.
“Who are you people? What do you want from me?” Marca's eyes were wild, her body tense. She no longer was groggy from sleep, her body primed and fueled for action. She wiggled her toes, feeling the woolen blanket over her legs, her feet itching to be partnered with solid earth again, and soon.
The young man gripped her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “My name is Luke. You're in Ucyuz, the northernmost nation in the Qamar League.”
“Qamar?”
“You might know us as the Crescent Moon League...?” Luke left the question dangling; apparently hoping Marca would recognize the name.
“I don't know anything about any league. Is this part of the Fire Nation? The war ended 20 years ago, but we still don't trade much with the fire-benders.” She sat up slowly as Luke released her shoulders, Zee having left the room and the young woman relaxing in her absence.
“The Fire Nation? No, I've never heard of it, even. Where did you say you're from?”
Marca drew herself up as tall as possible in her bed. “I am Marca, of clan Havrook, from the Southern Territories of the Earth Kingdom.”
Luke looked at her strangely. “Perhaps you took a harder blow to the head than we realized, after all.” He paused. “Do you know what year it is?”
“121 A.S.C.”
“A.S.C.?”
“After Sozin's Comet. The comet gave the Fire Nation under Lord Ozai the ability to conquer the world, but the Avatar ended the war, and brought peace to the three lands.”
“We don't use that calendar, and I can't say I've ever heard of it. Or of a Fire Nation, or an Earth Kingdom, or fire-benders or a Lord Ozai...” Luke was looking immensely skeptical.
“Luke... can I talk to you for a minute?” A pretty redhead had stuck her head in the room, peering down at Marca over the rims of a pair of comically oversized glasses.
“Sure, Samantha, what's wrong?” Samantha shifted her gaze from Marca to her tamer and back again.
“Privately, please.”
Luke looked at her, and then at Marca, getting up and nodding to Laura. As he left the room, Marca raised an eyebrow at the Amachoke. “Am I a prisoner?” Laura just shrugged.
Luke stepped out into the hall with Samantha, his Sorceress. “What's the matter? Something about her?” He nodded towards the room they had just exited.
“Yes. I'm reasonably sure she's not from this world.” The redheaded magic type was visibly agitated, her hair tousled from a long night of research. “The entire bay that she washed up in is covered in magical residue, and I'm almost a hundred percent sure that there was, for a very brief instant, a bridge to another dimension open between the bay and... wherever she came from.”
“So she's a mage, you think?”
“No, she doesn't have any kind of magic. I get the sense she has some sort of blood-gift, a strong one. Or at least what passes for a blood-gift wherever she comes from.” Samantha looked worn down, eyes red, makeup applied several days ago still caked on her face. Luke reached up and stroked her cheek.
“Go; take a hot bath, sleep. You need it.”
“But, if she's from another world... I can't miss this opportunity to study her!”
“Samantha. You yourself are a strong proponent for the new set of Pokegirl Rights laws. If you subjected her to the same kind of experiments and tests that you decry others for performing on pokegirls, what does that make you?”
“I...”
“You can talk with her at length, if you wish, but only after she has fully healed, and you have had a full night's rest. And only, and I'm stressing this part, only if she agrees to it.” Samantha nodded against Luke's hand. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Good girl. Now go, clean up, and get some rest.”
The redheaded mage wrapped her arms around her tamer, hugging him tightly. “I love you.”
“I know, now off with you.” He pushed her away, gripping her shoulders and giving her a little push and a swat on the rump. She looked back over her shoulder at him coyly, pondering the pros and cons of starting a taming session in the shower, but felt pure exhaustion wash over her as she thought of her bed. Without another word, she headed upstairs in the large house and to put herself to bed.
Marca looked up as Luke reentered the room. “These aren't my clothes.” She glared at him. “Someone undressed me.”
Luke chuckled. “Yes, and it wasn't me. I don't take liberties with women who don't belong to me.”
“You own people?”
He smiled, sharing a knowing glance with Laura, who was now lounging in a nearby armchair. “Oh, they own me as well. We're kinda in each other's pockets around here. So, my Sorceress tells me that you aren't from around here.”
“I thought that had been established?” Marca's voice dripped with sarcasm, but she suddenly bowed her head in deference to Luke.
“I am sorry if I have offended. It is not proper for a guest, especially one such as myself to be rude to their host.”
Luke raised his eyebrows, impressed. “You have not offended, Marca...” he tested her name on his tongue. “I am not like some of the old diehards, I embrace change, and it wouldn't be proper for me to express displeasure towards someone who doesn't know our customs in the first place.” Marca nodded at this explanation.
“But she... the redhead, she is a mage? And says that this is a different world from the one I live in?”
Luke nodded. “Yes. Samantha is a Sorceress, a relatively powerful magic user.”
“How do I get back?”
“That's the problem.” Luke broke off in thought. “I don't know of any cases of inter-dimensional travel, though many scholarly theories say that's how Sukebe created pokegirls. He filtered and collected advanced technologies and species from different universes to create his armies.”
“Who is Sukebe?”
“The man who created pokegirls, like Laura, Zee, and Samantha. That was 300 years ago, though. It is all ancient history. Well, some of it at least. They are physically enhanced women, some capable of destroying cities single-handedly, others capable of healing anything short of death itself. This man, Sukebe, felt slighted by other scientists, and, being a madman, created armies of super powered women to conquer the world. However, his plan failed once his soldiers started going feral.”
“Feral?”
“Insane, reverting back to their most basic animal instincts. Not capable of speech or organized thought. The only way to return them to civilization is, sadly, to rape them. We call the process 'Taming', a euphemism created nearly 280 years ago.”
Marca was horrified. “That's absolutely horrible! How could anyone do such a thing?!”
“Whichever situation you are referring to, whether Sukebe's attempt to conquer the world, or having to rape a woman simply to allow her to use her god-given gifts of thought, I agree with you.” He turned to Laura. “All of the women who I live with have never been feral, and I will never allow them to be. And I will never tame a feral.” He turned back to Marca. “Regardless, you are healing, and do not have to worry about such things at present.” He paused, thinking of how to breach the subject of Samantha's supposed 'powerful blood-gift'. “Um, I have something to ask you, it might personal in nature, but I have no way of knowing, and I feel I must know since you are a guest in my home and what raises my concern is whatever it is you possess might be a danger to me and mine.”
Marca sat up and looked at him evenly. “You have most certainly saved me from death, Luke. I would never repay that kindness with violence.”
Luke looked at her for a moment, before nodding. This bronze skinned, blonde haired and golden-eyed girl was much like himself, in some respects. “My Samantha feels that you posses some sort of powerful natural ability. We here in the Qamar League, and in other nations around the world, call these blood-gifts. However, there are also blood-curses, abilities that negatively affect the person afflicted, and those around them. Which do you have?”
Marca drew back as if slapped. “You mean my earth-bending? That's no curse, I promise you.”
“Earth-bending?”
“I have the natural ability to manipulate the earth around me.” She paused. “There are no earth-benders or other benders here?”
“Not like you, I believe. Some pokegirls are capable of doing what you describe, but no human has ever demonstrated the ability to move the earth, as far as I know.”
“Oh.” Marca paused and leaned back on the pillows. Here she was, far from home, possibly as far as one could possibly get, if this Samantha was to be believed. No one had ever heard of the four lands? Of the Water Tribes, the Fire Nation, the Earth Kingdom, and the deserted Air Temples? And no other benders except for those who had to be... fucked... to keep from becoming human animals? What was she going to do?
Luke watched her for a moment before Laura touched him on the arm. “I think we should let her rest, Luke. This is a lot of information for her to process. For all of us to process. Luke nodded and stood.
“If you need anything, just call out. We'll hear you, so don't hesitate to ask for help with something if you need it. The bathroom is just across the hall, but you don't need to walk any farther than that, doctor's orders. And we'll know if you do.” He smiled warmly. “Get some rest, you are safe here, I promise.”
Marca watched them leave the room, the lamp above her winking out as if by magic as Luke touched some sort of switch on the wall. She briefly considered getting up to examine it, but then shook off the idea. Her sister Lumi was supposed to be the curious, quite, reserved one. Always the consummate water-bender, calm and cool under pressure, never letting things anger or depress her. She sharply contrasted with her earth-bender sister. Marca was headstrong, yet patient, as any self respecting earth-bender should be. She didn't need to know how something worked so long as it did so.
The deeply tanned young woman adjusted the pillow beneath her head and closed her eyes, a silent tear running down her cheek as she rolled over and thought of her family.