Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus
Chapter XXV – General Iroh
He saw them approaching from a great distance, the heat of the last days of summer rising in great hazy waves off the plains. Two distinct dust trails sped toward them at great speed. Behind them a few dozen lesser trails indicated a small escort.
Prince Iroh stood impassively, his eyes locked on the approaching machines, his muscles stiff with days of tension. The battle should have been joined days before, but the scouts had reported no activity in the pass on the appointed day, or the following day, or even the day after that.
The machines grew steadily larger as he watched. They had not come from the southern pass. They had come from above the northern spur. How they achieved this feat he did not know, but that so few approached was very nearly proof enough of the disaster he felt sure had befallen. The approaching column was small, but Iroh felt sure it carried the spirits of many and he could almost hear their voices, the sounds of battle, and the screams of dying men.
He had not changed out of his armor since the day the battle was supposed to take place. He stank horribly. Repeatedly he searched in vain through his sight glass for signs of fire in the pass. He saw nothing. Each day passed in agony.
In his right hand he carried Xian's black swathed missive, a smooth, silent harbinger of death. He hated it, but could not help but look upon it whenever he was not scanning the horizon.
A crunch of pebbles from behind alerted him to the presence of his one remaining friend.
"Two tank trains, your Highness," Gan reported, one eye squinting through his sight glass.
"Yes," Iroh acknowledged dully.
"And about ten or twenty tanks at most," he added with some bitterness.
Gan retracted the instrument and replaced it in his tunic.
Iroh turned away, resolved to receive the approaching visitors at the camp. There was nothing to do but wait and steel himself against the inevitable. The Qu'ai Tau put a hand on the Crown Prince's shoulder to stop him.
"Your Highness," he began, unable to meet Iroh's eyes, "I…"
"No!" Iroh roared suddenly, thrusting his friends hand away roughly, "I won't hear it!"
Gan let his hand fall back to his side.
"You don't know a damn thing!" thundered Iroh, shaking his fists at his friend. Tears welled, but did not fall.
The man in grey remained silent, his eyes downcast, sadness etched on his face.
Iroh marched stiffly to the command tent, the pennants of the Crown Prince snapping in the wind.
The black cylinder grew heavy in his hand.
The Phoenix finally began to slow, the constant pounding of her engines and high pitched shrieking of her treads waning as they approached the Fire Nation encampment. Six days had passed since the battle of Lake Myojin. Six days since the death of Prince Xian. Six days since the world had fallen to pieces.
Nikon had not come to terms with his own grief. The catastrophic loss on the shores of the cursed lake had instantly transformed into a desperate retreat up and over the Ping Tou. Corona and Phoenix had fought many actions, two in snow and ice at extreme elevation, before descending the sharp western slopes of the range. They had escaped only because the Earth Kingdom vanguard contained no waterbenders to manipulate the vast reservoirs of frozen water that blanketed the mountains. Many of the tanks which had escaped with them were lost to the terrain or cannibalized for their fuel to enable the rest to move on.
When they had not been in combat he could only think of what he must do if he lived to see Iroh again.
What do I tell him?
How can I tell him?
Why has it fallen to me to bear him this awful thing?
There were no answers. Briefly he regretted Chieng's intervention on his behalf. He had not expected to survive, only to die with some kind of honor. Instead he found himself returning in disgrace to tell his best friend that his beloved cousin was dead and that much of the army was destroyed.
The red baton, still stained with the blood of its previous bearer, gleamed dully in Nikon's hand.
The warforged titan slowed to a crawl as it entered the camp. On either side an honor guard lined the approach, flags held high. Iroh's tent and the tank train car that Chieng had loaned him after the Battle of Nomura lay ahead. Nikon could see the entire officer corps of the infantry formed into rank and file. At the center he saw his friend. Next to him a man in grey could only be Gan.
"Kill drive engines," he commanded tonelessly.
The Chief complied and the Phoenix slowed to a stop.
Nikon rapped twice on the side hatch before it opened, revealing the Crown Prince and the remainder of the Army of the Great Divide. He stepped out onto the running board. Dimly he could hear Corona grinding to a halt behind the Phoenix. The bodies of both dreadnoughts were heavily damaged, the symbols and lettering of their names, once resplendent in gold and red, now barely legible.
Iroh locked eyes with his best friend. The devastation he found there told him all he needed. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing back the tears. It was a moment before he trusted himself to open them again without shame.
The acting captain of the Phoenix descended, stepping heavily onto the dust of the Nasu Plain. He approached Iroh under the tense and watchful gaze of the infantry officers. The red baton he held attracted every eye.
"Hail, Prince Iroh!"
Nikon saluted and dropped to one knee.
"Greetings, Commander Orlando," Azulon's son managed, his voice stilted, threatening to crack, "I thank the Spirit of the Sun for your safe return."
Chieng emerged from the Corona and stood beside the young tank commander. Without a word she dropped to her knees next to him.
"Greetings, Commander Shiung," the Crown Prince continued, gratefully acknowledging her presence by placing a hand on her shoulder, "Your return is a blessing as well, and I am thankful that you have once again fulfilled your promise."
"What promise, Highness?" she asked dully, unable to meet his eyes.
"You didn't let this one die on me," Iroh replied gently, though his eyes remained filled with sorrow.
Chieng did not reply, unwilling to take credit even though she had earned it. The guilt of responsibility for the deaths of so many loyal soldiers, her commanding general, and all but two of her children oppressed her.
Iroh knew it was his responsibility to demand an account, but it was hard, perhaps the hardest thing he had done in his life. He hesitated, the wind picking up dust and dirt as it whipped through the camp. Finally, he spoke.
"Commander… what has happened? Where are General Xian and the rest of the army?"
Nikon looked up to meet his friend's shattered, hopeless eyes. He knows, of course he knows, Great Spirits, I'm so sorry…
"Your Highness, General Xian is… General Xian is dead. What you see before you is all that is left of what we sent over the mountains."
Nikon spoke loudly so that everyone could hear. The words cracked like thunder. Unable to restrain them any longer, Iroh shed salty tears, but made no sound. He remained at attention as he took the report.
"General Xian died in honorable combat against the enemy on the shores of Lake Myojin."
He stood now and offered his friend the baton of command.
"I was with him when he passed, your Highness…" at this Nikon began to cry as well, but forced himself to continue.
"His last thought was of you… and the Fire Nation. On my life he asked me to deliver this to your hand."
Iroh stepped forward, his back straight, tears flowing freely down his face, and took the baton.
"General Iroh, you are now in command of the Army of the Great Divide," Nikon nearly shouted, his voice finally cracking, "By the Spirit of the Sun I pledge my life and loyalty to you!"
Chieng stood up and saluted, "Hail, General Iroh!"
"Hail, General Iroh!" the officers repeated as one voice.
Iroh stepped forward and hugged his best friend, the baton in one hand, his cousin's letter in the other.
General Iroh sat slumped in his curule chair. He was alone in his tent. Two cups of hot tea rested on the circular table beside him. He could not bring himself to drink his, and the other would never be touched again.
In his hand he held his cousin's final message. Finally, with a deep breath and wiping the tears once more from his cheeks, he lifted the cap off the tube and removed the scroll inside. He unrolled it carefully to reveal his cousin's familiar, square lettered handwriting.
Dearest Cousin,
If you are reading this we have lost our gamble in the Southern Pass and a great part of the army has been defeated or perhaps even destroyed. I am dead or incapacitated and you are now locked in mortal combat for the very survival of the Fire Nation.
Hear me now and obey this final command! Whether Tien Shin lives or not, I appoint you Supreme Commander of the Army of the Great Divide.
Forgive me this. I alone know the awful burden I place upon you. I do this not because you are the brother I would have chosen, whom I have watched with love and pride grow from a young firebrand into a wise and resolute warrior, and above all, a good man, but because I believe that should I fall your leadership presents the best and only hope of victory for the Fire Nation.
This advice alone will I offer, if you would accept such counsel from a general disgraced by defeat. Remember the Battle of the Coral Sea and take to heart the lessons of our fathers! The first day of that famous conflict was a huge disaster from which no one expected to escape. How many others would have given up after that first, terrible day? Your father refused, as did mine. Their perseverance produced a victory that changed the course of the world. This is the challenge that lies before you now.
As for me, I have been plagued by my fears and by them I have been undone. Yes, I have known it. I have pressed on for many reasons, but none as potent as the certainty that the fastest way to end this war would be to lose it. Even in death I cannot help but do everything in my power to avoid that fate for the country I love beyond measure.
For this and only this reason could I do this to you, cousin, and I am sorry. You are the best and only choice.
Now, dear Iroh, grieve not for me, for you will carry the best of me inside you for all the days of your life. You will make my strength your own. Steel yourself now for battle, gather your friends close and lead your army to victory.
And now, at the last, I will beg you one final favor, cousin… If you live to see her again, please, tell her I loved her.
May we meet again in the spirit world.
Xian
The letter and its cylinder fell to the floor.
Yes, cousin, we will meet again. Farewell.