Prologue
All was lost. This was the end.
The young man stared out at the wreckage that was once his city, the smouldering remains of buildings and the acrid smell of smoke and flames. And yet, through all the fiery chaos, the ice was the most disturbing to him. Jagged and uneven, sharp and uncaring. Covered in blood.
He took a deep breath. Though he couldn't quell his rage, he could accept defeat. He knew as well as anyone that there was nothing left.
He turned as he heard a loud, angry knock at the door. "Open up in there!" A male voice yelled. "I'm not going to ask you a second time."
The young man adjusted his sleeves and closes his eyes. He would surrender. Better that than be killed and humiliated. Was he a coward? Perhaps, but this was his only, if slim chance.
They'll have complete control if I decide to come back after the fact. I won't have a hope in hell of reclaiming this place. He wasn't a fool. He knew how quickly the regime would set in, and how quickly he would die at its hands.
He rose and walked calmly towards the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. He saw what he expected to see: uniformed soldiers wielding various elemental bending. He couldn't fight. He was weaponless, a non-bender, had never even been trained in combat. He was a politician, not a warrior. The soldiers readied their elements, poised to strike. He simply raised his hands and allowed himself to be handcuffed.
As they led him away, he caught glimpses of the carnage he hadn't seen from his office. A toddler crying over a mother he wouldn't find. A man lying, bleeding on the ground. A pile of bodies aflame in the centre of town. He turned away, unable to look. Here he was, alive and willing to surrender.
Nothing will be the same after today, he thought. There's nothing any of us can do.
It's over.