A few of the posters with Eliko's face go up around town over the next few days. There's a medium-sized reward for capture of a fugitive or information leading thereto.

Tarinda carefully does not behave in any irregular way with respect to these posters.

There are more guards than usual lurking around her workshop.

A merchant wishes to acquire a large-scale contract for the distribution of her phonographs, as well as their production, if she's amenable.

She's amenable! Especially if this means she can work on other projects and have phonograph money rain down upon her.

That's how it'll work out in practice.

Marvelous. Then she can get underway on some groundwork for circuits and chips and such. Can she acquire all the odd materials this will call for?

The precious metals are, unsurprisingly, expensive. Purity of other materials is going to be a problem. She might need to augment her income stream.

Okay then. She'll invent the sewing machine.

Sewing machines are very popular. It doesn't take long before she gets a couple offers for production and distribution.

Tarinda,

I made it safely out, as you might surmise from the fact of this letter's existence. Though I understand now why the dock was unwatched. The journey by sea was, shall we say, less than pleasant. I did not realize how much the lack of solid earth beneath my feet would affect me. I suppose one might call it seasickness. I traveled south for a few weeks before disembarking and turning firmly inland. If I never need to travel the ocean again, it will be too soon. The village I am staying at now is quite landlocked, and not hostile to me. In fact, they rather appreciate my talents.

Even here, word of your invention has spread, though no one has seen one firsthand. When I mentioned that I knew you, it caused quite the stir. The villagers have undertaken a collection in order to purchase one of your phonographs and a collection of recordings. Please find the request and the funds enclosed within. The circumstances of my departure did not allow me to take one of your pricesheets, so I fear I may have misquoted the total.

Lastly, a personal request, if I may. You have doubtless noticed the container of soil and wondered as to its inclusion. If you would take it to where we first met and leave it as an offering of sorts, I would be deeply grateful.

Yours in health,
Eliko

Tarinda counts up the money in the package.

It's the price of a phonograph when Eliko left, plus the amount she was loaned.

Eliko,

Phonographs have gone down in price point since your departure! Find enclosed also a sewing machine, my latest, and a copy of the instruction manual. I'm glad you survived your displeasure with the sea and will be happy to bring the dirt where it goes, or as close as I can get without inventing a better shovel.

Yours, Tarinda

It'll be a while before the package can reach its intended recipients, and longer before a reply can be expected.

Yup. That's snail mail for you. Tarinda adds refinements to the sewing machine and works on groundwork for computers.

Buying from the Fire Nation in quantity is going to get expensive. Many of the best mines are still controlled by the Earth Kingdom, and they are reluctant to allow the fruits of their labor to cross national borders.

...she sends Eliko a followup letter with some cash and a shopping list.

It takes a while, but eventually she starts receiving a trickle of shipments containing her requested materials.

Along with that comes news from the capital. The Fire Lord's son, Prince Zuko, has been disgraced and exiled, sent on a futile mission to find the missing Avatar.

Poor guy.

The best thing she can do for anyone is get Sing done faster. It's not a good idea to fret over individuals she hears about, at least not unless they're old and dying and there's no way she can solve it before they're gone, in which case all she can do is suggest dying somewhere really cold.

She finds a good time to go for a hike and put the jar of dirt where Eliko wanted it.

The mountains are cold this time of year. The caves, of course, are dark regardless of the season.

One of the creatures comes to investigate before she makes it all the way in.

She puts the jar down - opens it, after a moment's thought - and takes a step back.

It sticks its nose in and snuffles. Then it churfs, and tips the jar over. The contents spill out, including what seems to be a lock of hair. It flips the clump onto its back with a stomp, and turns to shuffle off.

Awww.

And she goes back home.

Before she can get there, something about the world twists. With no perceptible sense of movement, she's no longer in the place she was. The air is warmer, more humid. The trees are green instead of bare, overhung with vines and tangles of moss bursting with vitality.

...concerning. She stops in her tracks, but turns her head to look around her.