Just Curious

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I wrinkle my nose, fending off the urge to sneeze. It's far too dusty in here, it's hard to breathe and there's a distinct odour - like the smell when you open a really old book that's full of dust. Some people love that kind of thing, but me? I think I'm allergic.

Ugh. I really want to sneeze.

Unalaq won't even look at me, at us, and instead stands facing the window with his arms folded behind his back. There's an uneasy silence, during which I stare around the room and study the dark mahogany bookshelves that sprawl across three of the four walls. It's like Unalaq has his own private library here, though many of the old books and tomes appear to be covered with – yup, you guessed it – dust.

"A-Achoo!" Couldn't hold it in any longer. I sniffle and wipe my nose on my sleeve, since there's no tissue to hand. Gross, but oh well. Unalaq doesn't even flinch at the noise, but Bolin stares at me wide-eyed, clearly worried that I might have invoked some ancient curse with my bold, sneezy adventure.

Unalaq lets out a loud sigh, but says nothing. He's always been old-fashioned, my Uncle. He even uses an oil lamp on his desk, insisting that he enjoys the scent and feels the light is more natural. And you know what? I can almost understand that part. But using a quill and ink to write with, and those rolls of parchment... it's just weird. I think if I ever tried to make him use a laptop, he might actually implode, or the world might end.

"I am very disappointed with you, Korra." Unalaq eventually breaks the silence.

I cough, "It was just a note, Beifong overre-"

"Be quiet. I am not interested in your excuses," Unalaq says, turning on the spot to face us both with an angry gaze. Bolin's looking nervously away from the glare, and keeping silent. Maybe that's a good call.

"Do you know how long this building has been here?" Unalaq starts to pace the room whilst talking, his voice almost monotone, his single, long ponytail swinging down past the centre of his spine. Here we go, history lesson, I think. I have to stifle back a yawn. "Well?" Unalaq hisses the word, and pauses mid-stride to face me.

Why does he always pick on me? Bolin's here too. "About three hundred years." I say, and I can't keep the apathy out of my voice.

"Three hundred and twenty-four to be precise. And do you know how many students have passed through these halls?" He raises an eyebrow, "The answer is thousands. Thousands, of which few if any have had the gall, the stupidity to think they can treat this place like a regular high school."

Bolin speaks hurriedly, "It was my fault sir, I distracted her..."

"Enough! I have no patience for your attempt at being a martyr. There shall be no further distractions in class, because you are here to learn. You will learn how to defeat the worst horrors, and how to make the world a better place." Unalaq sighs deeply, and looks between us both, "Is the significance of all of this so lost on you that you think you can ignore monster-slaying lessons of all things?"

"Oh come on, I slay monsters on a weekly basis, and she isn't teaching us anything new!" I blurt out the words, not pausing to think first.

"That arrogance will get you killed, young avatar. It will get your friends killed. It will get loved ones killed." Unalaq actually sounds concerned, rather than angry. I really don't think I'll ever work him out.

"I do not expect to see you in here again. Pay attention to your lessons, or die in the field. It is that simple." Unalaq turns away, and walks towards his high-back, leather bound mahogany chair, "You are dismissed."

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