Chapter 7: Shadows in the Night

++++six weeks later+++++

High in the mountains above Republic City, not far from Tarrlok's mountain cabin hideaway, squatted a group of fifty radical Equalists, the majority of those remaining loyal to the new ways, were worked into a zealous frenzy by their squad leader. They were dressed head to toe with the brown-black uniforms of their movement. Most had removed their headgear, and most had their new slasher bolos and taser gloves next to them.

A leader revved them up, "The deaths of Amon and the Lieutenant must be avenged! And our colleagues who were brutally murdered at the Lab and on Air Temple Island. The Avatar, the Air Family, and the entire Council must die!"

They cheered their agreement.

He lied to feed their fervor, "Avatar Aang never killed, but this Avatar kills without hesitation."

Suddenly the words got stuck in his throat. He started to gasp for breath. He turned redder and redder and his features and body started to expand grotesquely. In the next instant, all the water within his body exploded from him to the horror of his comrades.

As the water evaporated, for a moment, the completely dried husk of what was the squad leader teetered in the forest, frozen in mid-speech, fell into the fire, and ignited.

The rest of the Equalists leaped up and took combat stances, frantic, and not knowing which way to face an unknown foe.

Brilliant blue lightning came in from multiple directions, seemingly faster than any normal lightning bending. A dozen extreme Equalists dropped where they stood, fried to a crisp.

Several threw their bolos wildly into the dark in panic, but took several of their colleagues out, screaming at being felled by their own weapons.

At the same time, sickening crunching sounds came from other Equalists, and they fell as all the major leg bones snapped underneath them. As some tried to throw their weapons, their arm bones snapped as well, wrapping the bolos around themselves or their colleagues, with lethal results.

There was yelling and screaming, and still they had no indication of who they were fighting. The remaining colleagues heard squishing crunches that silenced their broken-boned fellow fighters, as some unknown forces snapped their necks and ended their suffering.

A lone dark figure stepped out from behind a huge tree, with a long, black sword drawn. One of the three Equalists still standing erect among his dead or dying brothers, drew his own short sword, and swallowed hard.

His two colleagues fell behind him, as a tree exploded nearby unleashing a gush of water and tree sap, sending countless shards of sharp wood splinters through both of the fighters like pincushions.

The unknown ignored swordsman snarled, "Fight and die, Equalist."

"I will kill you, bender," he sneered.

"I am no bender. It's just you and me. You will pay for taking innocent life."

"You cannot take me alive, swordsman," the Equalist threatened.

The longswordsman spoke gravely, "I do not intend to."

The Equalist was truly fearful. He could not comprehend any of the bending used against his colleagues. But he knew sword fighting, and even though his opponent was among the benders, he was a normal man. He could be bested.

That was until the Equalist faced a swirling onslaught of sword play thrusts he'd never witnessed. The dark swordsman split his long sword into a long and shortsword. The Equalist could barely defend against the withering volleys.

The Equalist short sword fighter should have had an advantage in agility and speed, but the unknown swordfighter far overmatched him. One movement disarmed him. An unseen blade emerged from the hilt of the long sword, and the expert swordsman cut the Equalist's arm off at the elbow. He screamed, but still reached for his knife, but the swordsman cut his other arm off at nearly the shoulder.

The terrorist fell writhing to the ground. He would only last seconds. Fifteen other men accompanying the swordsman rappelled down from the trees and stood with their leader.

The unknown swordsman ordered a colleague, "Cauterize him so he doesn't bleed out too fast. The fighter nodded, and obeyed, fire bending the Equalist's arm stumps, causing the Equalist to scream into the forest, scattering the night birds from their roosts.

The longswordsman stood over his victim, and spoke defiantly, "Know this Equalist: that in your last moments, you alone of your colleagues know that you were defeated…by the Black Lotus."

"No! There's no such thing. The White Lotus are just weakling do-gooders," he spat.

"There is now. And I can assure you, we are not weaklings. Nor do-gooders."

With that, the longswordsman took his wide, jet black blade and jammed it through the Equalist's throat, and he died instantly.

The unknown assailants disappeared into the woods, leaving an unbelievable trail of carnage behind. On purpose.