Chapter 7:

Jeong-Jeong was staring at the sun set from his tent. Zhao sat next to him.

"Well, Sir that was one adventure. I will always remember Bao Yu."

"So will I Zhao."

Zhao stared at his feet. He liked the young colonel and in a way, he felt relied to him.

"Sir? May I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure."

"How...How did you came to enter the army? Because, in the city of the Precious Jade, you weren't acting like you were happy to win the city. I think you never choose to join the army."

"You are right Zhao. I have never chosen to join the army."

"But what happened that made you enter it?"

"My father obliged me." answered the young man shortly.

"Oh...And you accepted without struggling?"

"No. I obeyed."

"And are you happy to be here, to serve Fire Lord Azulon?"

"Let's say...Uhm."

Zhao looked once more at his superior and stood up.

"I have to leave. My superiors must be waiting for me."

"Stay here. You are my pupil by now."

The teenager looked at the young man, surprised.

"But..."

"Go take a nap. You need some sleep. Tomorrow we will begin your training."

Zhao jumped in the air and yelled:

"Thank you so much, Sir!"

"Zhao!"

Instantly the boy stood still. Jeong-Jeong looked him straight in the eyes and said, cool as ice:

"You're not on vacation anymore. So I don't want to see childish behavior! Or disobedience. I will be severe but fair with you, if you abide by some rules. First rule for today: control yourself. Is that clear?"

"But..."

"Is that clear?!"

The teenager sighed, annoyed, and he answered with a tone of provocation in his voice:

"Yes, Sir..."

And Zhao marched to his tent.

Jeong-Jeong sighed again. Dark clouds had covered the sky while they were talking and some rain drops began to fall on the ground. One minute later, rain was pounding, but the colonel didn't move and let the cool water refresh his face.

"It wasn't so easy as it looked", he thought. "In fact, I struggled ..."

The calm night erupted with the sound of pounding rain beating a steady rhythm on the ground. The noise of each individual drop blended together in a single sustaining note that filled the air in a hypnotic symphony. The rain poured heavily down on the boy's shoulders who sat at the feet of the granite dragon. His white hair glanced in the full moon's light that peeked sometimes out of the dark clouds.

He was looking at a window of his house. He saw the shadows of a man and a woman women. His father and mother. His father was angry that night and he was drunk again. He was yelling at her and she didn't move. She was as always the perfect submissive wife. Sometimes he saw him hit her. Tomorrow his mum would have some new marks on her arms, face and back.

He touched his cheek, still feeling the slap his father gave him a few minutes ago. His mother didn't interfere. It would be her death if only she withstood to the decisions of her husband when he was drunk. It wouldn't be the fist time he hit him too.

"You're only an embarrassing object in my way!"

Object. He hadn't even the right to be human. For his mother it was worse. She was not only an object, but trash.

A new slap in the face of his mother. No sound came out of her lips, just a move of protection. But it wasn't enough. She fell on the ground. The boy was standing up, but he saw his mother already up. He sat back again on the ground, between the two paws of the statue.

No tears came from his eyes, no words of anger came out of his lips, No emotion came on his face. Only his eyes were full of emotion. Full of anger and hate.

Why had that damned letter to come? Why?

It all began with that stupid piece of paper. With only a few words on it. A few words that ordered his father to engage himself and to join the front. The whole day his dad had been in a calm mood; but when he read it, he slammed his seat on the ground and went to the kitchen.

We all knew what that meant: sake evening. The servants vanished out of sight, and his wife stayed in the dining room with her son, scared by the approaching anger of his father.

It took only a few minutes to his father to be completely drunk. He saw his son trying to hide himself.

"You gave me a coward as son!" he yelled at his wife.

No answer. First slap of the twenty others who would came later. And later, that hated sentence:

"The army will do him good!"

"No, I wont go to the army!"

His father looked at him, with his crazy glance in his look.

"What did you say?"

"I...I wont go to the army..." stammered the boy.

Slap!

"You will go if I says you will!"

He was going to hit him again, but the boy ran away and deserted the house, like he always did when his father was upset.

That's why he was nicknamed by his father as The Deserter.

The next morning, his father was gone to the front.

Jeong-Jeong shivered at the painful memory.

His clothes were sticking on him and he began to feel the cold of the raindrops. But he refused to move. He let his sad recollections go with the water and tried to forget with the hypnotic music of the rain pounding on the ground.

Quote of the day:

Zuko:My father says she was born lucky. He says I was lucky to be born. I don't need luck though, I don't want it. I've always had to struggle and fight and that's made me strong. It's made me who I am.


New chapter! Hum, I'm repeating myself, I should maybe find something new...

Moon-san thanks for the reply! Silent readers, MAKE SOME NOISE! please? *sad puppy-dog eyes* Muhahahaha, you cannot resit the sad puppy-dog eyes!

Jeong-Jeong: ...OK, that was random...

Zhao: You know her?

Jeong-Jeong: I wished I didn't...

Me: Hey, without me, you wouldn't even have a fan fiction!

Zhao: She's the authoress?

Jeong-Jeong: Yes.

Zhao: Darn!