Disclaimer: I'm usually very busy, and this is a complicated story, so it might take some time to complete. It also takes me several drafts to make a chapter publish-worthy, because quality is very important to me. Please just be patient.

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Prologue: The Death of a General

The heavy clouds hung low over the darkened sky. The sickly gleam of the dying sun bathed the hills and valley in an angry redness. Dry, deep orange leaves on a few straggling trees trembled and floated down like the scorched feathers of a dead bird. From the top of a craggy hill, a yellow lizard slithered silently between the brown weeds. Its long pink tongue flickered out at intervals, searching the sand for food.

A sudden bang, emanating from the valley below, sent the lizard scurrying under a rock. There was a thunderous rumble and a flash of blinding white light. The valley trembled in protest, dislodging loose boulders from the hills. The huge stones plummeted down the sheer face of the cliff, the heavy crash of granite-on-granite completely drowned by the source of the mysterious thunder. Three hundred feet below the lizard's hill, a tiny speck of black was moving on the valley floor. From such a height, it looked like little more than an insect crawling through the sand. In a few moments, dozens of black moving specks began to materialize, all traveling in different directions like ants swarming out from an anthill. They seemed to be scurrying away from something – a large, smoke-filled crater in the ground.

*****

A young woman was running, dirt flying out from behind as her heavy boots beat against the sand. She was propelling her legs with all her strength, head down to fight the wind, perspiration streaming in rivers from her face and neck. Another large, piercing boom behind her sent sand and metal debris flying in all directions. Distant echoes of shouting and screaming rent the air. A huge roar bellowed down on her ears as rippling yellow flames burst from the ground where she had been standing just moments before. The young woman launched herself head first into the sand just as a piece of scrap metal flew over her body and wedged itself into a rock next to her.

That could have been my head, she thought. Rolling over, she raised herself on her elbows and saw a huge black cloud of smoke rising from ground and reaching towards her, covering the sky in a red-black haze. Her eyes began to water and her throat began to sting. Climbing again onto her stomach and staying low to the ground, she crawled through the sand as fast as she could. She heard shouts of confusion and saw small black figures running in different directions as the others attempted to make their escape. Clouds of black smoke stretched over her in waves, growing thicker and thicker. She pressed her mouth into the ground, half-breathing the sand, to avoid inhaling the smoke. Choking and sputtering, she spit out a mouthful of dirt while desperately attempting to stay as close to the ground as possible. The hot sand scratched her face.

Another boom erupted less than ten feet from her left leg, spraying her with sand and burning ash. Flaming piece of wood landed on either side of her body, singeing her sleeves. A searing pain shot though her right arm as the flames began to burn through her cuff. She immediately jammed her wrist into the sand, the cuff popping and sizzling as the flame was extinguished.

What the hell was she going to do? She didn't have a choice. She had to go back. Her time was limited, and the longer she waited, the longer he would suffer…

She quickly dug a small hole in the sand. Then, sticking her face in the hole and taking in a large breath of fresh air, she jumped to her feet. Closing her stinging eyes and holding her breath, she dashed forward with all her might, hoping to the Gods that she was running in the right direction. He legs kicked madly against the slippery sand and her lungs burned as she dashed through the cloud of smoke. She dropped her head forward and ran faster, using her arms to shield her face from the smoldering ash. The flames licked her clothing and the heat on her skin grew more intense, almost unbearable, as she ran. Her legs began to grow heavy. She felt light-headed and sluggish, as though she were struggling to move underwater. At last, when her lungs could bare it no longer, she inhaled a mouth full of smoke. Coughing and gasping, she willed her body to move forward. She had just begun to lose hope when, breaking out of the black soup, she was blasted by a draft of cool air. Slowing down to a halt, the young woman collapsed, panting, into the sand.

*****

As the she lay still, the putrid smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. The young woman coughed. She didn't know how she was going to find the General, and she didn't care. All she could think about was getting him out alive.

The smoke was thinner than it had been before. Still, it was hard to see through the gray mist, and she had to pick her way through burning pieces of wood that had been lodged in the sand from the blast. After almost ten minutes of searching, she at last found the campsite. Many of the tents had long been burnt to the ground, creating large piles of steaming black char. She fought her way through them, shoving them roughly aside with her gloved hands, ignoring the pain as the ashes flew up and singed her arms and face.

"General!" she began calling. "General!"

No answer. Just the dull rumble of the last few flaming tents. She kicked at the debris, rummaging through scorched remains. She heard a small squish, as her heavy boot landed on something soft. She looked down and saw it – charred black and sparkling red – a human arm. She jerked her foot away in horror. Her boot was now dripping with blood. Her stomach grew tight. Panic washed through her body and, for a moment, she found herself paralyzed. What if he was already dead?

"General!" she called again.

She listened, struggling to tune out the dull roar of flames and the distant booming of far-off explosions. Somewhere to her right, she heard a faint groaning. Someone was still alive. Her heart began to race.

"General!" she cried. "General, is that you?"

She rushed towards the sound. Beating her way recklessly through the debris, she tripped over a fallen tent and felt momentary pain as the sharp edge of a piece of metal caught on her face and sliced through her left cheek. She kicked the metal aside angrily, dashing away the blood on her face with the back of her hand, and began crawling towards the sound of the voice.

"General!" she yelled, her heart pounding painfully against her rib cage. "Please tell me where you are! Can you hear me? Please!"

She heard another groan, closer this time. Was he under the debris?

"Don't worry," the woman shouted. "I'll get you out!"

She began to dig furiously, kicking through the half-burnt pieces of wood and tearing broken metal out of the ground, throwing it behind her. The heat of the debris began to melt through her gloves, but she ignored it.

She had just ripped away a piece of tent, when she suddenly found herself staring at a human face. It was hardly distinguishable from the charred mess around it. But she knew his face. She could recognize it in any form.

"General Auron!" she cried out, struggling to keep herself calm. She anxiously broke away at the debris to reveal the rest of his charred body. His once red coat was now black; its designs had melted into his boiled skin. A bloody red-and-black crust had settled over his face. The explosion had burnt away his lips into a thin line on one side, while his teeth and the muscles of his jaw were fully exposed on the other. His hair, most of which had turned gray with age, was now almost completely gone. A few gray wisps still clung to his blackened skull. Only his eyes were untouched. Those gray eyes that she had known all her life - that same wise and penetrating gaze was now directed towards her. She swallowed hard, threw off her gloves and slipped her bare hands underneath his head. Turning him towards her, she gently placed his head in her lap.

"Auron," she whispered faintly, fighting hard to control the growing lump in her throat.

The General coughed and spat blood onto her clothing. She ripped a piece of cloth from her burnt sleeve to wipe his mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, letting out another shallow cough before he had gathered enough strength to speak.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his words slow and labored. "You should be with the others."

"I came back for you!" she replied firmly. "I couldn't just leave you here to die!"

"You shouldn't have done that," said Auron. "You're putting yourself in danger." His breathing was uneven. His chest rose and fell slowly, lungs rattling with every breath. He let out another deep, hallow cough before he said, "You have to go back."

"No!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. "I'm not going without you! You're coming with me."

He slowly and painfully shook his head.

"Please!" she cried. Her eyes began to fill with tears, despite her best efforts to quell them. "Let me help you! We've got to get you to a hospital! Auron…"

"Listen to me," said Auron. He laboriously lifted one of his charred hands and slipped it firmly into her hair. His deep voice grew clear and commanding as he spoke. It was his living voice, the one which had always garnered respect from his fellow soldiers; the one she had always loved and admired.

"You've always been like a daughter to me," he said. "You and your sister. When your father died, I promised to look after you. To raise you like my own girls. I did the best I could. Of all the things I've done with my life, you two are my best…my greatest accomplishments." He paused for a moment to take a short breath. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "She's a smart girl, your sister is," he said, the corner of his burnt mouth rising in a half-smile. "And you…you're one hell of a woman. And a damn good soldier!"

The young woman felt his grip on her hair tighten momentarily. She could say nothing, only stroke his ruined face as the tears blurred her eyes.

"The only thing greater than serving you as a soldier," he croaked, his voice failing, "is having you…for a friend."

His grip tightened once more. With his other hand, he grabbed at a small gold star pinned to his uniform and dropped it gently into her lap. His general's insignia. The young woman bent forward to kiss his burnt cheek before his hand slipped from her head and fell to the ground with a thud. His eyes had closed for the last time.

*****

Three thousand miles away, in the bedroom of a forty-seventh floor apartment, Lightning Farron awoke with a start.