Massacre of the 41st
Today will be another glorious day for the Fire Nation, Captain. Today these young men and women will prove their valor.
Those words, the last I heard from my superior officer, Major Huan, commander of the 41st, still echo in my memories to this very day. Of course, when I heard them, I nodded in agreement. It did indeed seem like that day would be just another day of glory and victory. Things had been going well for us. Things have a way of changing.
I was a captain then. Lead my own squad of young recruits, all eager to prove themselves. My particular squad was a scout group, and my recruits all had some talent for stealth and reconnaissance, as I did in my own youth. I was determined to teach those four young men and one young woman everything I knew. They would be the best, I was sure of it.
There were the twins, Lee and Tann, both firebenders, both tall and lean with short, dark hair. They were particularly dangerous together in combat, as they would firebend in perfect tandem, as if they had one mind for both bodies. Sure, their technique was a bit simple; their bending was a tad on the light side, but I knew in a few years they'd be a terror on the field.
Then there was Ojo. He wasn't a firebender, or a particularly good swordsman, but he was damn good at spotting things. A broken twig, a bit of displaced earth, a shallow footprint... he saw them all. Sometimes even before I did. He was a small young man, but with a sharp mind.
Yenko was almost the opposite of Ojo. He was a powerful firebender and skillful swordsman, muscled and towering with a shaved head, save for his topknot. He was perhaps not the greatest scout, but every scout team runs into trouble now and then, and it is in those times you're glad you have a fellow like Yenko on your side.
Finally, there was Fey Min. She was a petite girl, incredibly fast and incredibly quiet. She didn't speak often, but when she did it was only to say something kind to her squad mates. She didn't seem like soldier material until I saw what she could do with a pair of short blades... that earthbender never stood a chance.
My squad had seen a little action here and there, had a few skirmishes, but nothing too serious. That day would be different though. The 41st was going to the front lines to escort a critical supply caravan to a siege group attacking northeast of Ba Sing Se. The success of the siege depended on this cargo, and if we brought it to them, we could be part of the force that finally broke that accursed wall down for good!
My squad rejoined with the rest of the division, and we made for the rendezvous point with the caravan. As we proceeded north towards our allies, I kept my eye on that towering wall far to the west, expecting at any moment to be assaulted with a hail of boulders. Certainly we were out of range, but just being in the shadow of that monstrosity made me nervous. At times, we received orders to scout ahead or to the flanks of the caravan – to root out ambushers – but we spotted nothing out of the ordinary.
Three-quarters of the way to our destination, as the 41st marched or rode through grassy foothills and the setting sun cast an ever-lengthening shadow from the impenetrable city, Ojo was the first to notice something amiss in the earth ahead. He had studied natural rock formations in great detail, and suggested that the bluff ahead looked a bit out of place. We were at the heart of the caravan at the time, and I was about to send a messenger to the Major up front, but we had already stepped deeply into the Earth Kingdom trap. It was too late.
The earthbenders were clever and patient. They had dug massive pits and covered them in a fragile layer of earth. The ground thundered all around us and I watched dozens upon dozens of soldiers fall screaming into dark ravines. Out of those ravines rose earthbending elites, like demons of the underworld, hurling stone after stone, crushing wagon frames and bones with equal ease.
Ojo was the first to fall. A boulder struck him squarely in the face before he even drew his blade. When I ran to aid him, his neck was mangled most unnaturally, and he drew no breath. The twins erupted in unison, bringing thin streams of fire against the earthbender who threw the stone, but this man was far above them in skill. He flipped the very earth they stood upon end-over-end, launching them into an open pit. Their screams faded into the dark.
Yenko, with a vengeful howl, drew his massive two-handed sword and lit it ablaze, charging the earthbender who had slain his comrades. Even with my assistance, we could not break this man's defenses. At least not until Fey Min snuck behind him with her daggers and brought his life to an end. The victory was short-lived, however, as another earthbender even more dangerous than the first broke her back with a wedge of stone. She may have lived for a while, lying on the ground... paralyzed. I could do nothing for her.
This same man, savage and brutal, tore rocks out of the ground and squeezed them into sharp discs. He launched them at any target of opportunity, rending limbs and bodies with a cold and indifferent stare. This man was a veteran of veterans. He was a survivor, and a master of killing. Yenko was no match for him... and neither was I.
I don't know what happened to Yenko, only that he was listed as those killed in action that day. For my part, I tried to avoid the earthbender's razor sharp discs, but one struck me across the face and I lost consciousness. Or that was what I've been told, at any rate. I have a scar that seems to support the tale.
When I woke again, it was to a bright flare in the night sky. A signal. Reinforcements.
Struggling to my feet, I saw the earthbenders almost finished with our division before our own soldiers poured in from the north and east. Caught off guard, exhausted, and outnumbered, our glorious nation would win the day. Earth and fire rained in every direction, but I could not fight. I was too tired. I leaned up against one of the caravan wagons and prepared to sleep, or to die.
Then I saw that one of the crates in the caravan had a loose side panel, the stone that had jarred it still embedded in the side. I wondered what we had been protecting. What so many had died for. What great secret weapon me must have been bringing to the siege! Orders were strictly need-to-know. But in that moment, in the heat of battle, believing I was going to die soon anyway... I needed to know.
Popping the panel loose was exhausting, even for only a momentary effort. But fall off it did, and I peered into the crate to catch a glimpse of Fire Nation genius.
Rocks.
Rocks?
Rocks?!
It was filled with rocks. Surely they were meant to protect something greater inside? I tore the crate apart, exhaustion forgotten, tossing stone after stone out into the field behind me, where the battle still raged as only a thunderous echo to me. I emptied the crate. Only rocks.
I opened another crate. It too was filled with rocks. And another. Rocks.
My body gave up. So did my mind, I think.
Afterwards, I was carted home a hero. A survivor of a tragedy. No one knew that I had inspected the caravan. With my broken mind, I remember chanting, 'Rocks, rocks, only rocks!', as I was placed in the Tomo Facility, but my caretakers just assumed I was referring to the battle. I healed only by forgetting what I saw, a couple years later. When I was released, healthy and ready to return to the front, I was promoted to Major and put in charge of recruiting the new 41st.
Months later, I hear a story. A story about a banished prince. A young man, who at the age of thirteen spoke out against a suggestion of slaughter and was burned for it, then cast out to sea to hunt the seemingly impossible. They said his honor hinged on it. And I remembered. I remembered my squad. I remembered the rocks. My mind held together this time, but I didn't know what to do.
Then Ozai was defeated. The Prince became Lord. My path was clear.
I write this to you, Fire Lord Zuko, not to reap pity or reward from you, but so that you know this: that without a shadow of a doubt you were right. The people will know what happened to the 41st, and your scar will forever be a banner of true honor in the eyes of the Fire Nation. The new 41st, hand-picked down to the last man myself, is forever at your service.
In the Light of Agni,
Major Tien, Commander of the 41st Division