Summary: Ember Island has always been regarded as special, but what is uncovered about the island leaves even the oldest legends behind. The heart of the island is guarded by a bottom-dweller, Sithik. As Zuko and Katara begin to unravel the island's secrets, they discover more about what is important to them.
Setting: AU post Southern Raiders. During the SR, they had not arrived on Ember Island yet (in this story). They were currently lodged on a small island to the East about a day's travel away.
Music: The Reluctant Warrior, Immediate Music
For all the songs listed, links to listen are provided on my profile :)
In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
-Robert Ingersoll
Prologue
The room was dimly lit, except for the burning strip of fire in the otherwise uncluttered room. Curtains draped the edges of the space which appeared to be immaculate, but upon closer inspection, behind the curtains it was dusty and forlorn, the gold inlay of a dragon barely visible. No one bothered to go behind the curtains anymore: there were more important things to attend to. The light cast from the eternal blaze alit the silhouettes of two figures, projecting distorted versions of their bodies upon the wall. Through the crackling of the flames, their whispers swirled around the room. "How is our progress?"
"Good, Father. We are ahead of schedule. They should arrive within the day." The voice was distinctly feminine, but it was marred with cruelty; cold and harsh.
"Good."
The lithe figure bowed, and made her way to the door in a dignified fashion, her heels clicking against the floor like hail on a tin roof.
The moon looked down upon the tiny village nestled in the crook of a glacier. Tents staked into the ice, frozen at the edges, and barriers of windswept snow had formed to protect from the harsh climate. Little stirred under her gaze; she watched as the wind raced across the frozen landscape, howling like a wolf drawing in for the kill, blowing little ice crystals in its wake. Her gaze wandered to the shimmering ocean dotted with icebergs, white light dappled across its surface.
The water was as clear as a looking glass and deathly cold. Swiftly and silently the submarines glided through the water like assassins' bullets. The light of the moon shone down into the ocean through gaps in the ice floes; white and pure, revealing the small bits of debris silently descending into the abyss.
A cry rang out through the tin speakers, and the submarines slowly began to rise. The subs breached the surface like a whale spouting, gangplanks fell, the metal screaming against the ice. Troops of soldiers poured out of the submarines, marching in strict rigid formation towards a few clustered tents, distinctly water nation.
This can't be right. I... don't feel right about this. The man hesitated at the edge of the ice, watching the armies march toward the defenseless community. A general marched to his left, casting him a reprimanding look before parading past him.
Having been recruited as a young man he had been filled of dreams of becoming a famous high ranking personnel, returning home to the Fire Nation with tales of glory and success. He had not taken killing innocent people into the equation at his young age. The generals had weaved stories about how evil and treacherous the other nations were. How they could not be trusted. Especially the Southern Water Nation. They had told the soldiers that the area they would be attacking was a powerhouse for the Nation. They said the Southern Water Nation was as refined in weapons and wielding them as the Northern Nation was in bending. They said that a link between the two nations had been forming and that if it was not stopped, the two nations would be unstoppable. Now he was uncertain if this was the kind of glory he wanted.
Seeing the small village made him realize how wrong those stories were. They were just like him. They had families, children, and loved ones away in the war. What-
"Soldier. SOLDIER"
Broken from his reverie the man glanced up to see a red faced captain towering over him, clearly irritated. "Get back in line, soldier."
As the army walked down the icy slope, their metal boots crunched through the snow. It was a sickening sound, quite unlike the gentle treading of snowshoes upon the surface of the snow. As the cracking of snow and ice drew closer, a few inhabitants of the village peeked their heads sleepily out of their tents to see what the commotion was about. They did not need to look twice at what came towards them, as they ducked back into their tents, alerting their family members, hugging their children.
A young boy dashed across the center of the village before halting at the edge, his scared reflection glaring at him from a bronze object. Shakily, he took a hand and grasped a mallet, quickly swinging the weapon against the golden plate before running off to his home, stumbling in his haste to return to his family. The gong rang out across the village – warning that trouble was upon them. Families prepared themselves for the coming army; but there were no warriors left to defend them. They only had to hope that prisoners were being taken, but the Fire Nation did not take prisoners from this part of the world.
The intruders stood in a solid line, and began to blast fire at the tents, slowly moving forward. A designated few would stop occasionally to open a tent flap, and project a stream of fire inside, ignoring the screaming. The snow on the ground softened and melted, streams of water pooled before forming to ice, but none of the soldiers skidded on the slippery surface, their march onward was not interrupted.
The faint sounds of calls for help, and children hysterically crying wafted up towards the moon, but she could do nothing but watch as the small village was destroyed, its citizens murdered or left for dead. A column of smoke stretched into the sky, a beacon of help, but was no one around to see it.
The soldiers retreated back to their submarines, still in their rigid battalion, their work was finished.
What have I done? The man felt a small tear slide down his cheek, hot and raw. He could not cry. He must not cry. Every pep talk that had ever been given to him flashed through his head. You WILL fight for your nation... we must attack Ba Sing Se... you must show no fear... weakness is expelled... always remember.. you ARE expendable... He ducked his head, glad for the helmet hiding his face, filled with new resolve to resign from the army.
Pain.
Fire.
Melted Ice.
Uncontrollable crying, and screams of agony reach her ears. Ignoring the pain she stretches a shaky hand out, feeling the top of the desk. She feels around blindly for the bottle, but a spasm of pain racks her body and her hand falls back. Trying again, she clumsily finds it, knocking it off the desk.
A bird screeches, the cry pounds through her head. It flaps anxiously in the corner of the tent. Grabbing a splintered piece of wood and dipping it in the ink, she scratches a short message on a piece of dried blubber.
There is so much smoke.
It hurts to breathe.
Her body curls into a fetal position and she gasps for air. The bird hops over, squawking at the fires, pecking at the sheet. It cocks its head and pecks again.
Closing her eyes she focuses the last of her energy. She can barely form the recipient's name in her mind. She lets her head fall against the snow.
"K-Katara."
She is so tired.
Eyes closing.
Gone.
I apologize for this being short, the next chapters will be more lengthy. I'd love to know what you guys think! :D
Anything recognizable is not mine. XD