The rising sun signaled the start of a new work day in Republic City. From their various hovels and shacks, workers of all nationalities trudged slowly in groups to their respective work areas. A column of Earth Kingdom workers walked along side a group of Fire Nation workers on one of the narrow streets that lined the unfinished metropolis. Taro exhaled slowly, feeling the strength of the sun coursing through his body. The day that he both dreaded and desired had come at last. If he lived he would be famous, if he died he would be immortal. Anxiety filled him. Curse the balance, restore our glory! With a last cursory glance at the still rising sun he set the plan in motion. Choosing his target, a heavyset Earthbender, Taro shoved him as if by accident, but with enough force to send the man crashing to the ground.
"What the hell is your problem?" said the Earthbender, who quickly recovered and leapt to his feet, his face raw with rage. Taro smirked, a sadistic pleasure filling him as he toyed with his prey.
"My problem…is that filthy mud crusted abomination that you call a face." The Earthbender's eyes turned red.
"Son of a bitch!" The Earthbender lifted his foot to bend but Taro was one step ahead of him and with a fire sweep to the man's other leg he bore the worker to the ground.
"And stay down you filth." The two groups had stopped in mid stride, their eyes on Taro and the Earthbender who attempted to crawl to his feet once more. Other workers began to surround them, curious to see the commotion. Taro smiled as he drop kicked the worker on the head and stomped him into the very Earth he bended. The Fire Nation workers and Earth Kingdom workers eyed eachother menacingly, the tension that had simmered, hidden within them, now boiled to the point of bursting. No one moved.
"Everyone let's just take it easy." said one of the Fire Nation engineers, "There's no need to start-"
Before he could finish his sentence a rock, hurtled from a distance, smashed him across the face and the two groups came together with a thunderous crash. A torrent of Firebending and Earthbending ensued, mixed with intense melee combat. Some of the workers carried wrenches and soon put them to use smashing the skulls of their foes. Taro found himself in the very eye of the storm, his years of training meaningless in the cramped hell that surrounded him. Suddenly one of the Earth Kingdom workers caught him unawares, smashing two of Taro's ribs with his hammer, the force of the hit bringing Taro to his knees. Only his instinct saved him as he quickly cross-blocked what would have been a finishing blow from the worker's hammer. Gathering up his remaining strength, he round house kicked the worker in the face before blasting him full in the stomach. The force of Taro's attack blew a hole through the man's stomach, scorched his insides, and came bursting out his back. The worker collapsed in a smoldering heap.
Across the city similar fights were breaking out, with only the Water Tribe workers remaining neutral. Soon the entire city descended into chaos. Everywhere work ground to a halt as workers rushed to join the fighting by the hundreds. The city guards attempted to restore order but soon found themselves in the thick of the conflict, fighting for their lives. A thick dust cloud soon covered the city, under its nigh impermeable cover it became impossible to distinguish friend from enemy. Earthbenders crushed their comrades under walls of stone as Firebenders burned their friends to cinders; more times than not they struck enemies.
…
Jimonshin surveyed the damage from his view atop one of the city's massive structures. He was both relieved and bewildered. Ecstatic and somewhat sad. But he quickly dispensed all traitorous thoughts from his mind, the death of his countrymen would not be in vain. This was all for the greater good. Curse the balance, restore our glory! He strained his eyes, until he could just barely make out a faint shape slumped against one of the buildings. There it was. The rock he had thrown; the pebble that had caused an avalanche. It never ceased to amaze him how important seemingly worthless things could be in the right hands. WolfBat's hands, he corrected himself. After all this was his plan, Jimonshin was merely the pawn.
'But I'm much more than that. Wolfbat knows this. Perhaps that's why he gave me this mission.' The dust cloud now reeked with the stench of blood and burnt flesh. The ground shook as one of the buildings came crashing to the ground, burying scores of unlucky workers beneath its debris. Another building burst into flames, a northern wind caught the embers and hurtled them at nearby structures. The inferno flickered cruelly as it began to consume everything in its path.
Jimonshin wondered if Taro was still alive. If he was WolfBat's pawn then what was Taro? Perhaps he's my pawn, thought Jimonshin. The poor fool would die without a second thought if he thought it was for the cause. How foolish. Still some were destined to be used, to die so that others might reap the benefits. Karma, he thought. At any rate it mattered not, he would never throw away his life. Not for the Mitoshin, not for the Fire Nation.
The fire bells rang loudly across the city; Waterbenders ran to the wells and began a desperate fight with the flames. The smoke now reached the very clouds, tainting their purity with its bloodthirsty grey. Another building crumbled to the ground, debris flying in all directions, finding targets among the belligerent workers. The smoke reached further still, seemingly singeing the sky itself. Suddenly a powerful tremor cause a tiled roof to slide off a house, crushing a low flying hawk that had attempted, in vain, to escape the carnage. Jimonshin sighed at the sight of the bird's demise. Only another pawn to be thrown away, tossed this way and that, at the will of the spirits.
"Karma."
…
The sun had only begun to rise, but Zuko was already long awake. His sleep was neither restful nor refreshing. It was the same nightmarish hell that he had to endure every night since her death.
"Mai." A single tear slid down Zuko's cheek, falling onto the silken bed sheet.
They had been together only a short time, fractions of a second it seemed. After Zuko had ascended the throne as Fire Lord she had agreed to be his Fire Lady, they were married the very next week. And within a month Mai was pregnant, the new world made all the more beautiful for them. But the spirits that had toyed with his destiny before seemed to mock his life, denying him happiness, denying him peace. In the eighth month of her pregnancy she suffered intense convulsions and died along with her child. According to the physician it had been a girl. He would have named her Ursa, in honor of his mother. But now that dream was gone. Turned to ash before it could even materialize in front of him.
Perhaps it was his lot in life to always suffer, never to rest. From that moment Zuko absorbed himself in his duties as Fire Lord, sparing little time for his friends. For in that role alone could he find some measure of solace. However tiny.
Zuko stepped out of the bed. A place that not so long ago had been filled with joy now seemed a desolate grave. At times he could not even bring himself to sleep in it, preferring the cold ground; the very same ground that she now rested in. Mai. Would he ever find happiness again? Zuko exhaled, his melancholy breath turning to steam in the cold autumn air.
Most trees lay barren now. Dead as the season dictated, only to be reborn again in the spring. The Sakura trees, alone, were in full bloom. They were the trees that teamed with life when all else withered. For a second Zuko felt that he could be happy once more, but the cold breeze soon brought him back to reality and the horrid memories flooded his mind once more.
"I don't hate you." she had said with a smile.
"I don't hate you too, my love." Zuko clenched his fists, forcing the tears back.
He walked out onto the balcony and viewed the still slumbering capital. The sun now touched the rooftops, gleaming red against the colored tiles. The clouds above were a soft milky white, promising another peaceful day. But in the distance he could barely make out a more foreboding sight. Dark clouds engorged with thunder and lightning. A storm was gathering, it could be weeks, it could be days. But a storm was coming. From the corner of his eyes he spotted a messenger hawk speeding for the palace. He wondered what it portended. Whether the news was good or bad. But that was for the spirits to decide, he thought dejectedly, and for him to meekly accept.
…
Shiru stumbled along the streets of the sleeping city. Blood trickled to the ground despite his best attempts to maintain pressure on the gash across his right shoulder.
"Shit!" cursed Shiru as he fell to his knees, his vision grew foggy. Pain coursed through his body as if replacing the lost blood.
Shiru rose to his feet slowly, biting his lip at the effort. He tried to hasten to his hideout before the city began to wake. The sun was already high in the sky. He had only minutes to reach the house that now seemed miles away. He leaned against a wall wearily, and began to take leave of his senses, the fight still fresh in his mind. His shurikens had caught the first guard unawares, killing him. With a swift turn he had just managed to block the fire blasts from the guards behind him. But at that moment the third guard slashed at his neck. It was only by chance that Shiru sensed the attack and managed to jump out of the way in time. What would have been an otherwise fatal blow was now only a cut to his shoulder.
Seeing an opening the two other guards rushed at him, but Shiru was too fast, darting to the side he grabbed the third guard's arm, elbowed him in the face and managed to wrench away the sword. The guards attempted to back off and fired several blasts from their hands but their fate was sealed. Shiru rolled forward avoiding their attacks and with a single motion sliced open their bowels, the sword going clean through their armor. The guards coughed blood, one attempted to stuff his intestines back into his bleeding abdomen, the futile effort draining him of his last reserves of energy before he collapsed on the ground dead, like his companion.
Now Shiru began to feel the severity of his own wound, blood spurted forth at an alarming rate. Quickly he dealt a finishing blow to the remaining guard, granting the man a swift and painless death. Shiru checked the street before running off, leaving the blade protruding from the guard's chest. The sun climbing steadily in the morning sky.
Shiru awoke with a shudder, the feeling of weightlessness filled him and for a moment he thought he was dead. It was then that he realized he was being carried. The fog lifted from his eyes long enough to show him a familiar face.
"Somone sure did a number on you Shiru." Her voice carried with it a certain edge.
"A-Azami." said Shiru, his voice hoarse and devoid of its usual strength.
"Don't speak Shiru, you're not home free yet. Conserve your energy, we're almost there." In his weakened state Shiru was amazed at her strength. The ease with which she carried his body surprised him, and the calm yet confident look on her young face reassured him. Shiru felt himself once more slipping into oblivion; only this time it was a calm sleep. His head fell gently to rest on Azami's shoulder. She smiled for a moment, enjoying the feel of his body so close to her own, before sharply refocusing her mind at the task that at hand. The turtle ducks began to quack and slowly the city began to wake.
…
Katara opened her eyes lazily and smiled wearily, attempting to free her arms from Aang's loving embrace. They had made love far into the depths of night, until at last they had collapsed, tired and sweaty in each other's arms. Katara snuggled closer to him. Resting her head in the nape of his neck, she relished the warm escape from the chill morning air. The young Avatar's face was peaceful in sleep his breathing light and natural. The dark thoughts that had plagued her mind had melted away in his arms until love was all that remained. She prayed that it would always be like this, that they would always be together. Oh how she loved him…On that happy thought her eyelids closed and she drifted back into the realm of dreams.