All That Was Left: Honor

by The Storm Commando

The Fire Nation has been defeated at Ba Sing Se. Lu Ten is dead, General Iroh disgraced, Fire Lord Azulon passed, and Ozai inheriting his throne. As the Earth Kingdom aggressively regains its territory and the Fire Nation attempts to assert control, a group of Fire Nation deserters seek to protect those unable to defend themselves, and punish those who abuse their power.

30. Chapter 27: Locals

Luke

We were surrounded. Everywhere I turned, waterbenders surrounded us. This is them. This has to be them. I turned my head around to try and catch the sight of Zek, Ka'lira, or Gordez, any of them, but their attention was, as it should have been, focused on the immediate threat-the waterbenders threatening to end our journey before it had hardly even begun. We know the countersign. Why haven't they said anything?

I was looking to Gordez, for something, anything that could get us out of this, but he had his sword raised to his chest in a ready stance, the 4 of us standing like the perfect 4 corners of a square, boxed in, Ka'lira with her crossbow, Gordez and Zek, blades trained on the hostiles immediately to their fronts. It's not enough. Not by a long shot. I turned my left side to the waterbender closest to me, the water already manifesting itself into no-doubt lethal pikes of ice facing immediately towards me, the rare glimpse of sun sneaking through the thick canopy above reflecting right off at the perfect angle to create a glare in my eyes. But nonetheless, I put on foot behind me, turning at a right angle to my left foot in front, my footing solid, grounded, but ready to immediately push off of it and leap out of harm's way, all just as Jeong Jeong had taught me. My hands were already raised in a fighting stance. I can do this. I can do this.

"Don't," I could just barely hear Gordez say to my side. I hadn't been provided enough time to question his order before he spoke again, this time addressing all present, friend and apparent foe alike. "We're not here to start a fight. He stepped forward, closer to the man in front of him, the move in itself by no means antagonizing, but subjecting us to a coincidental far worse affair. "We don't-"

"He's wearing Fire Nation armor!"

My muscles tightened, immediately reaching for my sword at my side, determined at the very least to follow Gordez's commands. For now. The waterbender in front of me flinched, the ice in his hands shaking. He's nervous. Good. I can use that if I have to, and by the looks of that, it will prove to be very soon.

"They're here to finish what the others started! Kill them!"

I leaped forward, pushing off of my right foot, hearing the splash behind me from my leap, followed by the sounding of smaller splashes as well as the shattering of ice behind me as icicles, directed towards me for where I stood nearly moments ago, collided against one another, foiling the opening attacks of the two other waterbenders who had seemingly had their sights trained on me.

The one immediately in front of me, however, he had stood less prepared. Just my luck. His projectiles were already clashing around him, his focus broken, the water rushing back to the dry land where he had stood dry just seconds in the past. Bring my blade to the right, slashing at an upward left angle, his own arms his only defense as he desperately brought them up to defend himself. His arms however, well-honed as they were, less so than his focus it seemed, proved to be enough to save his life, though not his arms. The sword went immediately through his right arm, detaching it completely from his forearm, the blade continuing to go through his left arm, going midway before becoming stuck.

I didn't waste the time nor energy in attempting to fully sever his hand from the rest of himself, instead dislodging the blade as he promptly fell to the ground, unconscious, myself wondering if it would be the blood loss or the drowning that would kill him first as he fell face down in the murky swamp water, already becoming a sickening shade of red on behalf of its newest addition.

I was now positioned immediately between two waterbenders, both of them focused on me, albeit one of whom's attention was being somewhat directed towards his bleeding comrade. Good. Focus on him while I kill your friend. Wow, that was dark.

I turned my attention away from the concerned waterbender, focused now on the one who was already solidifying the water around my feet, I could tell. A firebender's strength is his agility. Jeong Jeong's lessons had saved my life on more than one occasion. There was no reason to believe he would be any more wrong now. This is where Fire and Air find themselves sharing in many regards. However, while the Airbender prizes his agility to evade conflict, the Firebender will utilize his agility as a weapon, using it to take the fight to the enemy. And that was just what I did.

In seeing his trick to trip me or freeze me in place, myself already approaching him at a less-than-optimal speed, for him at least, he sent a cyclone of water, emerging from the water by his right side, immediately towards me, myself just barely dodging to my own right. I need to put myself between him and the other. Running was easier heard, closer to the water body's edge. I went to, sliding in the measly few inches of water, slipping right past beyond his left side, swinging my blade at his leg, hoping to topple him. Rather, very much contrasting the man I'd faced immediately before him, he stood his ground, the cut along his ankle but a scratch as far as he was concerned. At the very least now, I had this man situated between me and the other waterbender, a quick look behind me affirming that the others were focused on fighting my friends, myself hoping we were faring well, but not deigning to waste the time in assessing their combat, already locked up in my own.

I was down lower than him, on my knees following my slide, kneeling before him as he attempted to turn to face me, almost as though he'd lost track of me in my evasive maneuver. He, however, soon realized the folly of his way when he turned to face me and was met by the upward slash of my steel, cutting through chest, neck, and lower face, becoming caught on his skull.

As he went down to his own knees as I just began now to stand, a bucketful of water came splashing down on my neck, myself, by instinct, being forced to look up as yet another icicle melted into water, no longer quite the weapon it had been while utilized by the waterbender.

Sure enough, the other waterbender had been distracted by his downed buddy but looking up to now see myself standing over yet another one of his fallen friends, one could see the realization dawn on him that it had been his own negligence that had cost the latest man his life. Even from where I stood in relation to him, while I couldn't see his face, his stance was enough to speak of renewed affirmation in his desire to kill me before I hurt any more of his friends.

A water whip intended right for my face was the first in his flurry of assaults, just grazing my hair line, shortening it even more than Zek and Ka'lira had done just a few weeks ago. The second in his fury would be to freeze the water by my feet. It wasn't even a conscious effort at this point. I was able to heat myself up enough at will, doing just so now, the ice remaining a slush of sorts as I trudged forward to the waterbender. It took me too long to realize, however, that his ice move had done just what it was intended to do-not stop me, but distract me.

It felt like a battering ram had been knocked against my side, sending me off of my feet, to the ground, dazed, confused, just barely regaining my consciousness, and rising to my feet before the waterbender brought down an arm converted into a grotesque spiked ice gauntlet, smashing it to bits against the shallow rocky surface rather than impaling me through my heart with it as he'd likely intended.

I stood up, facing the waterbender, certain for a moment that I was seeing double before surmising that I, in fact, was not seeing double. I simply had a new participant.

They stood side by side one another. Smart. Together, they're stronger. I'll just have to break them up. I rush between them, not only separating them, but also putting one another within the danger zone of any possible attack they send my way.

I turned my attention to the new addition first, focusing on him, keeping an eye on my fear however, dodging water bursts, whips, and icicles as they were directed my way, though with extreme caution to not put one another at risk, at the price of not overwhelming as much as they would have wished to otherwise.

I kept my offensive on the new waterbender, pushing him back further and further, almost pinning him against a tree before a sudden force suddenly emerged from below me, impacting with my chin, rattling my jaw, alongside the rest of my body as I fell onto my back. That impact, however, would only end up saving my life. The soldier who had knocked me to the ground immediately found his face enveloped by a block of ice that had been intended towards me. He was stunned, incapacitated, unable to attack, but no less unable to be attacked. Still on the ground, my jaw cracking whenever I tried to move it a certain way, I brought my sword up in a slash at his midriff, that being the highest point I could reach from where I was laying on the ground.

His guts spilled out of him, falling into the water beside me in quite the grizzly display, himself falling into his own mess pile mere moments later.

The resounding yell from the original waterbender, now responsible for the deaths of two of his friends, was enough to tell me what he was now more dedicated to ending my life than he was towards doing anything else under the face of the sun.

I pushed myself back, just barely missing the ice hammer he brought down on the ground. I scrambled to my feet, being thrown off balance by another missed swing of his, myself already having a hard time rising to my feet, made no easier by the waterbender's vicious onslaught.

I barely evaded one more time until his fourth blow was met with more success, albeit on my own part as I was foolish enough to make a stab at his throat. Rather, his 4th swing collided with my arm, immediately knocking the sword from it, leaving me defenseless save for Danev's dagger at my waist, but the waterbender did not intend on giving me the time to defend myself.

His ice hammer had manifested back into water, some of which derived from the river to reinforce him, and brought back in preparation of the perfect punch directly to my face, likely knocking off my head while he was at it, I stood frozen for a moment, in a split second looking around me. We were fighting well judging by the Waterbender corpses lining the swamp water, but they kept on coming. It was just too much. It's always too much. A burst of water, fully concentrated for a blast with enough velocity to punch straight through me, was slowly growing in my eyes as it drew ever close to me. It would kill me in an instant the moment it touched me.

Gordez's simple word shot through my mind, "Don't." I'm sorry. I had no choice.

I brought my arm forward in a punch as well, meeting his head on, creating a burst of fire, manifested from the fear, desperation, and survivalism, the likes of which I had never conjured before, and the world became a mist around us, the steam of the colliding elements surrounding the scene before us, but I'd been trained for this, I knew precisely where he was. The scene had been scanned, captured, and memorized. I knew where he'd been standing, and so, himself rendered blind by the steam, I approached, calmly, in one fluid movement, unsheathing my dagger and sliced across his throat with it, leaving him standing there in shock as he reached for the fresh wound.

As it swung through the air, the humidity of this steam mist alone was enough to completely clean my blade, wiping off the blood as it swung through the air, leaving it looking good as new right as it was inserted back into its sheathe, the steam dissipating around us, the dead waterbender falling to the ground, and me, sheathing my own blade, praying that I hadn't been caught in the act of 4 dead so far on my end. I turned, granted the brief reprieve from my most recent encounter's end, scanning the field to see the situation. Right as I did, I caught sight of a waterbender sliding off of Zek's blade, also bearing a crossbow bolt lodged into his neck. He fell to the ground, dead, naturally. Other bodies lined the field, none of them belonging to us at the very least. We can do this. We have to do this.

Whether it had been my display, the casualties suffered on the rest of the field, or perhaps a newfound desire to end this peaceably, the call to "Hold!" resounded from around the field, and it was as though the world went silent all at once. The Waterbenders stood in place, us as well, being still outnumbered, not wanting to resume the hostilities despite having made it this far, ourselves not keen on putting our lives in the hands of sheer luck any more than we'd have to.

The waterbenders stood facing us, expectantly, as though waiting for us to make the next strike, to give them the excuse to finish us off, but we did not such thing, and in turn, neither did they, apparently the word of whichever mysterious benefactor had given them the aforementioned order placed as higher of value than their fallen brethren.

A man walked out from the shadowlands of the jungle, entering the light, approaching our merry band of survivalists. It was clear from his getup immediately that he was of higher rank than the simple soldiers we'd been facing, and the words he spoke next confirmed just as much as he stood facing us, his eyes moving between the 4 of us, before asking, "Where does the moon rise?"

There was a pause between us, as we all, nonverbally, individually, then communally, came to the same realization that this was the sign. Gordez was the one to speak the countersign, saying, "On the side of the righteous."

The water tribesman, clearly now the leader of the men here, turned to the compatriots at his side and yelled out, Stand down!" Then he turned to us. "You are welcome here."

Are you fucking kidding me?

Zhao

The battlefield had cleared. The shards of glass for sand that had been flying through the afternoon air only seconds ago had now settled to new resting places on the ground, likely on account of whatever tribe had ambushed us not wanting to damage what merchandise their victims would be carrying on them.

Speaking of said victims, I looked around me. It seems that the survivors had found themselves spared of the onslaught through similar means by which I had lived as well, using the beasts of burden, now dead, as cover. Most of the merchants were among the dead. I managed to spot one or two, still alive, hiding beneath the rhinoceros beetles that had been alive only minutes ago. The rest however, those who hadn't been so fortunate, they rested atop their beasts, still strapped in, their bodies lying limp, keeled over, skin torn to shreds, blood flowing down their lifeless corpses.

They were not the only among the dead. In looking back, I could see two men armored as us lying motionless on the ground. I wanted to tell myself that possibly, they were only injured, but in seeing the sand surrounding their bodies slowly absorb the fresh blood as it spewed out of the numerous wounds I was sure they bore, I wasn't so sure. I wonder who they are. I shook my head. I couldn't dwell on that. We were surrounded.

I looked back still, attempting to find any familiar among those still standing. They all seemed just as I was, frozen, too afraid to even move save one brave soul, or perhaps idiot, left cover, heading directly towards where I was, sliding into cover behind my side, now allowing me to see the face behind the helmet. Harzek. Being at the top of a hill as we were, he needed not fear being detected so long as he kept low. "Zai'li and Theo are down," he began with, now verifying to me who it was we had lost. "We're surrounded," he whispered then, stating the obvious, but I understood, it was more him talking to himself, still thinking on what to do about the present situation.

"Sandbenders probably think we're all dead."

"No," Harzek countered. "They're expecting some survivors, but they won't use more force than necessary if they can avoid it. Don't want to damage the merchandise." He had come to the same assessment I had in that regard.

"They'll send a close recon team to pick off any survivors. Think they saw our uniforms?"

"From that distance? It's unlikely but can never be too sure. Assume the worst. Assume they know our numbers, our affiliation, our equipment, close personal relations, everything."

"Should we try taking them as hostages when they come?" I suggested. "We simply pick off their men, they won't hesitate to use that extra bit of force and wipe us out even if that means losing the cargo."

"Assuming they even send scouts up. Might just wait. See if we make the first move."

"Lieutenant!" I heard a loudened whisper from somewhere off in the rear. Harzek and I instinctually both turned towards the voice that, upon further inspection, belonged to Krezk. "What's the move?"

"Hold your ground, and stay still!" Harzek whispered back. "That means talking to. We don't need the sandbenders burying us in this hill because they thought they heard something."

The soldier simply nodded, already following his superior's orders. To lose Zai'li and Theo that way. It was nasty business, to be torn up by the elements that way, and these soldiers didn't exactly strike me as seasoned vets. I had no doubt morale had already taken a blow, but they were still soldiers, trained as the rest of us had been. They'd follow orders, they'd get the job done, and hopefully, we'd all come out of this alive.

It wasn't long until the one edge, anonymity, we'd hoped we'd possess, was grinded into dirt as one of the tribesmen, one we could only presume to be their leader, called out, voice seemingly amplified by some form of device, announced, "Fire Nation! We have you surrounded. Your countrymen aren't here to save you, but we have no qualms with you nor your Nation. Stand down, allow us to appropriate you of your goods, and you will all be unharmed."

A clear way as any to draw out one's prey for easy pickings. I turned to Harzek. He was just as unamused by the sandbender's claim. "Goods must be important to him," I whispered. "Going through this effort to draw us out."

"Or just doesn't want to put his men at risk. Moment we step out, whether it's to surrender or right, they'll just catch us in another one of those storms and tear us to shreds."

"Maybe not. Storm like that, takes many of them at the same time. A lot of concentration. This ambush was planned, they were ready for us. If we go on the offense, keep them scattered, don't give them to chance to join their power, we won't have to worry about anything quite nearly as devastating as that."

"Going on the offense? Are you insane!? That's exactly what they want!"

"They want us to come out with our hands behind our heads. We feign surrender with half our force, allow the other half to launch a surprise attack, followed by the others joining in, we'll maintain some degree of surprise, perhaps enough to catch them off guard and divide their ranks."

"'Perhaps?'"

"Nothing is a sure call, but I can't think of anything else. Can you?" I hadn't asked it as a challenge, nor did it seem that he took it as one.

He simply allowed his head to drop as he considered, realizing that indeed, nothing came to mind. "No," he simply let out. "Faking surrender might just be our only chance."

I nodded my head. The firebenders and archers should stay back, take them from a range.

Harzek nodded, craning his head upwards, allowing his voice to be relayed the furthest possible distance as he called out, "Alright! Alright! We're coming out!"

There was a pause, as though they themselves were trying to comprehend how that'd worked. "How many of you are there?" He eventually responded with.

"There are 8 of us!"

"We saw more of you ride in!"

"They-they didn't make it."

8 of us, I mused. 8 infantrymen, including Harzek. And 8 ranged fighters, myself included.

"Alright then, bring 'em out, hands behind your heads, slowly!"

Harzek turned towards me. "I'll take the men to the surrender. You gather the firebenders and archers, and on my signal, you come out of cover, and rain fire."

"What'll the signal be? Don't want us to miss it."

"I'll yell at you to kill them all."

"Hmm. Don't think I'll be missing that then."

"Good. Let's go."

He left with but a nod, remaining crouched down as he gathered his men, myself noticing as I watched as he directed the ranged fighters towards me, ordering them to go prone and make their ways to my position as he motioned for the others to rise with him, sheathing their weapons which they kept at their sides, stationing their hands behind the backs of their heads.

They were going in, for the most part, defenseless, the only thing standing between them and certain death being us.

Harzek's men were with me now, myself scanning among their faces, now being able to assign some of them to the names that belonged to them: Zaphri, Kodek, He'zari, and the others who I was still working on. They awaited my orders, and so I relayed the plan simply enough. "Harzek and his men will be posing as prisoners. They'll be serving as a distraction to draw the sandbenders' attention away from us." They understood. I could see it in their eyes: the fear. They'd seen their comrades torn into by grains of sand sent towards them at such a high velocity it may as well have been steel daggers. They didn't envy putting themselves on the line for risk of that occurring to them. They required incentive, and I knew how to provide it. "Our friends are out there, serving as a distraction against a threat of unknown strength and number. If we stay here, they'll kill us all. Your comrades are putting their lives on the line so we can have a chance. Our job is to ensure that this plan succeeds and that they remain unharmed. This is how we get out. This is how we survive. Am I understood?"

The fear was still there, in their eyes. I hadn't anticipated any different. No part of me was expecting them to suddenly forget the threat they faced, but now, they understood the stakes. This wasn't about them; this was about each other. This was about our mission and our compatriots. We had only one shot to make this work, and we had to make it count. They saw this, and their faces hardened as the archers drew arrows from their quivers and the benders, myself among them, readied their flames.

I could hear the shadows of conversation form beyond the beetle's carcass. The sandbender's voice, no longer amplified by whatever machination he had been using, was faint, but still the loudest of them all as he projected his authority. I had no doubt that the eyes of the benders were on them, and thus allowed myself a peak at the soon-to-be warzone.

Indeed, we were surrounded, by what appeared to be an entire tribe at that. I counted at least 3 dozen men, and 6 sand-sailers. Somewhat overkill, no? Despite their numbers, they were for the most part spread out, only somewhat congested at the location of where the "prisoners" were being assembled, likely already being readied for an execution team to end their lives. Won't come to that. I ducked back down, relaying the numbers to the others, and we chose our targets. The desert air somehow grew even warmer as the flames of the benders strengthened in preparation for the fight ahead. Good. We'll need everything we can get.

The talking continued, growing louder now, almost to a yell, but was nothing in comparison to when Harzek's voice shot out, "Now!"

We burst out of cover. The eyes of the sandbenders were on Harzek and his men. Their mistakes. We had our targets chosen, and in a matter of seconds, 5 sandbenders went down, two arrows missing and one firebender's blast hitting a target that an archer had chosen. No matter. My own blast, as I'd chosen for myself, struck the tribal chief in his shoulder, bringing him immediately to the ground. It was at this very moment that our own men on the ground, on the front lines, ceased the ruse, reaching for their own weapons, Krezk, from what I saw, being the quickest among them, bringing his shortsword from his sheath to the nearest sandbender's neck all within the same second in a blurred flourish that merely sent a spurt of blood into the air, falling upon the sand where more blood was sure to be spilled in these next few moments.

All hell broke loose. The sandbenders were in disarray as they attempted to assess who was the origin of the threat, some cries calling for them to kill the prisoners, and other speaking of the other threat atop the hill, being us. Their confusion bought us another 6 kills, evenly split between my group and Harzek's myself among my team's 3, having sent a ball of fire that shot directly through a sandbender's midsection, falling to his knees and later to the ground in a pathetic heap.

Their confusion could only last so long however, and soon enough, they had retreated to cover behind their sand-sailers, already returning fire blow to blow, a wave of sand colliding with one of our infantrymen, the hastiness of the attack luckily sparing the man's life.

By this point, the firebenders and I were leaving cover, agility, and movement the cornerstones of a firebender's fighting style. The archers remained in place however, providing covering fire as the infantrymen were forced to lie in hiding, unable to move beyond the intensifying sandbender defense, which, soon enough, would become an offense.

From beyond the hill, the commotion had been heard, and within the 2 minutes from which point the fighting had begun, they had already mounted their vehicles and had rounded the hill, approaching us from our exposed rears.

"Take out the sailers!" I yelled, diverting the attention of my firebenders towards the approaching vehicles, a combined onslaught of fire enough to tear about the first sandbender mount, sending it into flying chucks from the resulting explosion, the survivors, downed and disoriented, quickly being picked off by Harzek's infantrymen who were moving forward, using the wreck as cover just as the second vehicle had approached. They, however, had been smarter, parking behind their predecessor's wreck, disallowing a line of sight for my benders. Their own men began to dismount, a cohesive wave of sand toppling the wrecked bits of the old sailer that Harzek's men had been using for cover, downing 3 of our men, condition unknown.

We were being pushed back, our benders included, forced into a retreat by the influx of sandbenders. The archers themselves were pinned down, a fireteam of sandbenders now approaching them, just barely warded off by me and Zaphri's combined defense, killing the sandbenders before they could ascend the hill, their bodies rolling down the incline until they reached the bloody field, not far from where Harzek's infantry and my firebenders now found ourselves using a sailer for cover. We were pinned down, surrounded, having traded one encirclement for another.

Any effort to rise out of cover was met with the blistering daggers of sand grains. 2 of my benders were just barely holding the rear, but the sandbender assault was intensifying. One more of our men was down, this one dead beyond all shadow of a doubt, his face torn to shreds in being directly caught in a burst of sand-knives, turning his face into a bloodied mess within his helmet, falling to the ground completely unrecognizable, myself needing to dispel my disbelief to understand that he had been human, one of us, just seconds ago.

They were drawing near, controlling the sandstorm around themselves to remain protected as they approached. The moment we even slightly raised our heads, we'd be demolished. We were trapped. The men tried hiding their fear, or maybe it was the adrenaline doing that, but the situation was far from a pleasant one.

How many had we killed? Perhaps 17 by this point? They still outnumbered us. One of our men was dead, and multiple were wounded. I saw no solution. I would say I was frightened, but anger would better sum up my emotions in that moment, angry at the sandbenders, at Harzek, at myself, at everyone and everything for stopping me to hear, so close to my goal, so close to salvation for the Fire Nation, for me. So yes, it was anger, unbridled, unmatched, at least for the next few seconds until it was replaced by surprise.

The sun finally shone through beyond the mist of the sandstorm, the sand around us no longer weaponized into flying killing machines. The surprise I felt was no exclusive to myself it seemed, myself noticing this as the other soldiers exchanged similar looks until we rose, believing this to be an accident, one that, at the very least, would allow us to score a few more kills before returning to cover. We rose, and as expected, the sandbenders were still there, though their attention was not focused on us.

I turned around, just in the nick of time to catch the sight of a sand-sailer being torn in half by an upheaval of sand rising from the ground, sending its occupants flying into the air in mangled messes of blood and gore, their remains falling to the ground just in front of the sight of new approaching sand-sailers. Enemy reinforcements? No. Not enemy. At least not yet.

"It's the Hami!" came a voice, not one of our own. The fear was apparent, and it was justified. 5 sand sailers were circling the battlefield, slowly picking off our shared enemies one at a time, multiple hostiles falling in a matter of seconds as their far more mobile opponents picked them off one at a time. We seized the opportunity, rising our of cover as well to push our own offense, catching the remaining sandbenders with their backs turned to us.

It was only when we had already taken down 3 of them, 2 from fire blasts, and 1 from Harzek's sword impaling a sandbender through the small of his back, kicking him to the ground off of his blade shortly after, that the sandbenders were reminded of our presence, their attention bow divided between the two threats.

It was only a matter of seconds until the last of them had fallen, crumpling to his knees, coughing one last mouthful of blood before noticing the empty hole left in his chest, wide enough for the setting sunlight to pass through, before falling face forward to the ground in a puddle of his own blood, dead.

We stood, waiting, some eyes passing to our dead and wounded as the archers rejoined our ranks, but for the most part, our eyes were set on the newcomers, many of us still in combat positions, ready for the possible outcome that perhaps, these weren't saviors, merely yet another enemy threat. They're Hami. They're who we were looking for. Maybe this can still work out.

The sailers continued to circle us for a time until they had come to the realization that we were not firing on them, and that the rival tribesmen had been thoroughly eliminated. They slowed to a stop, waiting. For what? The answer to that became clear enough as they made way for a new sailer, one far more decorated, armored, clearly belonging to what I could only assume to be their leader. And sure enough, from atop the sailer descended a man not merely bearing the wrappings of the usual sandbender, but also adorning armor, both practical and ceremonial from the looks of it. I believe I caught sight of an Earth Kingdom chest plate as well as what may have the armguard of a Fire Nation soldier, though there was little way of knowing for certain in how weathered and beaten his armor was.

He approached, and as expected, Harzek stepped forward in kind. I kept close behind Harzek, figuring if it came to it, nobody was better suited to explain our objective was than I was. And sure enough, that was the first question the man asked, his voice taking on a metallic quality to it in how it was muffled from beneath the helmet. "Fire Nation in the Desert. This is unusual. Why does the Fire Nation present itself in an environment for which it is clearly unsuited?

Harzek turned back, his eyes turning forward, expecting me to be among the others, but a brief glimpse of surprise met my presence directly behind him. He quickly recovered however, nodding to me to explain, just as I had predicted.

I stepped forward, clearing my throat, the adrenaline from the battle still having my heart racing at what I could only assume to be far above healthy levels. My survival however brought with it as well, a degree of satisfaction, myself not wanting for anything, save a glass of water perhaps. I cleared my throat again, a bitter taste in my mouth as my flight or fight instincts had kicked in amidst our fight to the death. "We're here." I coughed. "We're here because we seek knowledge. For knowledge that is hidden in the desert. We believe you know where it can be found."

Behind his helmet, the man's face was unreasonable, but his posture said something in itself, perhaps amusement. "You want us to guide you through the desert?"

"We suggest a trade," Harzek intervened.

The man laughed. "And what, pray tell, do you have to trade?" Harzek turned back, and my eyes followed as he looked up the hill to where the dead mounts, and tethered to them, their treasures lay still.

The chief's eyes had followed, and he turned back to us, soon met by the combined gaze of Harzek and me. I didn't know what was going through the man's head, whether it was that this shipment was intended for him originally, that he could take it from us with ease without needing to escort nor provide for us, or simply to kill us here on the spot. However, rather than acting upon any of these potential thoughts, he merely looked at us, or at least I assumed so judging by the position of his helmet, and said, simply, "It'll do."

Luke

We were at a standstill, our forces facing off one another, the bodies of the fallen littering the ground, their bolstered forces, reinforcements having arrived, eagerly anticipating the opportunity to avenge their fallen comrades, the words of their handler the only thing keeping us still breathing.

"You know the countersign," He stated, matter-of-factly, facing us down one by one, his vision lingering on me longer than the others. Or maybe it was merely the paranoia that made me believe so. Had anybody seen me? And if they had, would they even believe what they saw? Considering nobody had yelled at the top of their lungs, "The young one's a firebender," I had to maintain some degree of hope that perhaps I hadn't been seen, and wouldn't find a pike of ice lodged into my heart within the next few vital moments.

There was no answer from any of us, likely on account of none of us knowing just who he was talking to. He spoke again, more emphatically this time, clearly demanding an answer. "How did you know the countersign."

By his own initiative, the mutually appointed leader among us, Gordez, spoke up, but rather than answering, he simply asked, claiming the initiative, and perhaps a few more minutes of breathing room, "Is there somewhere better this can be discussed?"

The commander eyed us, his vision then drifting to the corpses of his men, some situated on dry land, most bobbing up in down in the shallow swamp water. He turned to his men, saying, "Take the bodies. We'll conduct the funeral rites later." He turned to us now. "We'll be taking you to our camp. I hope you understand what that means. You better do a damn good job of proving we're on the same side if you want to leave alive. Fail to do so, and you'll only be leaving through the bowels of whatever creatures in this swamp will end up feeding on your remains."

It was quite clear that little choice was being presented to us in this matter, and so we found ourselves following along, the corpses of the fallen being carried in tow by means of ice rafts floating along the water through which we tread, guided along by the waterbenders who still bore through us with eyes anticipating sweet revenge. It was the Separatists all over again, vengeful eyes trained on us, sheep amidst a pack of wolves as far as they were concerned, mouths watering for the kill.

It was as though the entire village had snuck up on us. Likely because it had. Through the fog that had been enveloping us ever since first setting foot into this swamp, nothing could be seen, nary the tallest tree nor fearsome beast, and so we had all looked around us with anticipating eyes when the commander raised a hand, motioning for all those following him to stop. The other waterbenders seemed unconcerned, as though this was routine, something that, at the very least, may have put us at ease, except it didn't, rather, at least judging by my own take on the situation as well as that of my comrades, we seemed to assume quite the opposite, uncomforted by the nonchalance of the waterbenders, instead wondering if we'd been walked directly into an ambush.

Then the first building emerged from the fog, a tower built upon a wooden tower, floating along the river, a small crew guiding it along as 2 similarly adorned tribesmen stood atop the tower as it floated along towards us. It was only the first of many such structures. Soon following came another structure, only a hut, then more, an entire great hall by the looks of it, followed by even more structures floating on platforms of varying sizes, an entire village floating atop the shallow swamp water. And so this is how they remain undetected. They are never in the same place.

The other waterbenders among us trudged forward, the entrance of their village into their periphery likely no more than a tedium to them by nor as opposed to, what for us, was the most magnificent and awe-inspiring sight of the last month. The commander noticed as much, a smug grin on his face as he asked, "Not bad, huh? Pray we don't make it your grave." He was all too keen on reminding us of the precarious situation we found ourselves in. Until we could prove our alignment, we were in hostile territory. The sentiment was shared. As far as they were concerned, we were enemy infiltrators, destined to be at one another's throats until this situation could be resolved, but as I watched the bodies being carried back to the village, knowing that there would be those demanding reparations in blood, I found that hope to be all the more unrealistic.

A ramp was lowered into the water, allowing us to wade out of the swamp and onto dry land, or, rather, wood. The platforms bearing structures were all being operated independently by waterbenders moving them along, travelling from platform to platform by means of hopping, or simply lowering themselves into the water and getting there the slow and wet way.

It was an entire village, all the amenities you could expect of any grounded community, though constantly at motion, every soul present at work in maintaining the operations whether they were steering the platforms or working to maintain the fog cover that shrouded the town from visual perception. It was a marvel of creativity and constant diligence on behalf of those operating the town.

We were not, however, given the chance to admire the sight, ushered along by the commander who had now parted from the soldiers bearing the dead and injured of their comrades, instead steering us towards the great hall I had observed earlier, alongside a troop of 4 waterbenders, soon summoning another 4, bringing the total to 8. He did not what us going unattended it seemed.

When we reached the hall, however, he ordered his men to remain outside, entering solely with us in attendance, placing an apparent degree of faith in our ability to do the math and realize that attacking him in the center of this town would mean certain death for us all.

He brough us deeper within the candlelit hall into a smaller room near the rear of the building, an office or sorts, or so it seemed, all that was present being a desk, 2 chairs, a few maps of locations unreadable to us save one that clearly displayed the Nip Sea region, though it was unmarked, providing no designation as to where we were, how many these waterbenders knew of the overall war effort, or anything along those lines, nothing here for us to see that would prove dangerous, not that he would even let us live should we prove ourselves a threat. A war room? No, too barebones for that.

The commander didn't sit, instead staying put, standing, fully attentive as he turned to face us, the 4 of us in a semi-circle, facing him all at once.

He was the first to speak, and somehow, judging by the tone of his voice he possessed even more questions than we did. "So who the hell are you and how do you know the countersign?"

We looked between us, unsure of who he was even asking, his eyes constantly darting between us, but as he'd done before, Gordez took the lead, not taking much time to realize it was clearly him who represented the lot of us. "We're with the Nip Sea Separatists. We were sent here by their leader, Kiu."

"Kiu, huh?" He chuckled. "So that's why you're here, then? Kiu figured he'd go for round two, try to get us to join his Separatists again?" His voice was rising. "So that's what this is about?" Louder. "That is why you roamed into this swamp, and killed 8 of my men, critically wounding 7 others?!"

"We didn't want to fight them!" Gordez protested. "They attacked us first! We were forced to defend ourselves!"

"You walk into a swamp you know is occupied by those opposed to the Fire Nation, bearing Fire Nation armor, after defending against them to spare our own lives for generations, going as far back as them massacring our people en masse. What did you expect to happen!? My people are dead, and those who lived are demanding justice, calling for blood against those who she the blood of their family and friends, and the offenders are standing directly in front of me, so tell me why the hell I shouldn't order my men to march into this room right now and execute the lot of you?"

"Because if you do, you lose your only chance of being able to survive what the Fire Nation has in store."

"And what exactly is that? They're going to send another rogue party into this swamp? This swamp has served its purpose before and it'll do so again. Fire Nation bodies litter the swamp floor, and the last group that came, they left as quickly as they arrived. What is it that's so important that the 'Fire Nation has in store?'"

"You tell us. It's like you said, they came and left. Few weeks ago, we have some student from the University at Ba Sing Se, said he's studying something about ancient civilizations, some library possessing knowledge of the spirit world. Just last week, he's assassinated. So tell us, what is he after?"

The commander went silent, simply looking ahead, a blank look in his eyes. "So they know."

"Know what?"

He was still talking to himself still, saying, "Huu told me about the visions the Firebender had, but, but I never knew that the swamp would grant such sight to one like him, enough to undermine everything."

"Wait, hold on. What are you talking about?"

"The spirits. The know how to find them."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"The water and moon spirit. Where to find them!"

"They're spirits. What do you mean 'where to find them?' They don't exist in our world."

"Except they do. Spirits play by their own rules. Some will choose to enter our world to simply feel what it is to exist in physical form."

"Then where are they? Why they hell are they not constantly being defended?"

"We don't know where they are! That's the one thing that kept them safe-that nobody knows where they are, but there's only one place in this world where knowledge of their existence is stored."

"And where's that?"

"We don't know. Some great library, hidden somewhere in the desert, though nobody knows where. If the Fire Nation is pursuing this, with their resources, it's only a matter of time. I don't know how they even learned that the spirits were alive on this Earth, but if they know, they'll stop at nothing to find them."

"And if they do? What happens?"

"What do you think?"

"I'm no spirit expert. You tell me."

"They'll have in their possession the physical manifestation of the moon and sea. They can kill them, harness their power, do whatever it is they desire, but if the Fire Nation does succeed,-"

"-Then they'll have an unimaginable power at their hands." I had to suspend my disbelief to even be able to comprehend what was being discussed. I was no stranger to the spirits violating the "boundaries" separating our worlds, but changing the fabric of the world itself in such a manner, it felt, unreal, like superstition. Even if it was possible, even if something so simple could flip the world upside down, I've seen stupidity in the upper echelons of Fire Nation command, and I had to believe that nobody could be nearly stupid enough to attempt to do such a thing, to alter the world in such a way.

"So this is why Kiu sent you to us."

Gordez nodded his head. So this commander was beginning to catch on.

"Your Separatists. They're out to stop the Fire Nation here, but pushing back the Fire Nation here, it does little to stop them from finding the spirits."

"We're working on that as well." Are we? First I've heard of it.

The commander sighed. "You killed my men, but if I do nothing here, I'll condemn my tribe, my people, the Water Tribes to the same fate."

"So join your forces with the Separatists. I don't know what your reason was for not joining them before, but surely you have to realize that things are different now. We need to unify forces, to push the Fire Nation back, and take a stand."

"I refused to join them before because I didn't want my people being drawn into this war. We were Revanchists, once, but our ways are no longer those of perpetual warfare. We will fight when we have to, push back the Fire Nation where we can, but a war such as this, it would put all of us at risk, but it seems that simply standing aside and doing nothing would mean something far worse."

"So, you'll join us?"

He nodded, "I don't see myself as having much choice, but first, there is one concern I have." His eyes turned towards me. I simply thought he was scanning through the room once more, except his gaze lingered, not simply drifting over me. "Why is there a firebender among you?"

My hand tensed, every agreement we'd seemed to have reached over the last few minutes suddenly overwritten by that simple question. He continued, "Firebenders have tormented my people for generations. They've wiped out all of the waterbenders from our home tribe, they've hunted us down for just as long, they've brought nothing but pain and suffering to my people, so why did I see him, you, kill one of my men by using this power?"

The room was silent until Gordez tried to speak up, saying, "He's-"

"No! I want to hear it from him. Why are you fighting against your nation, boy. Tell me."

I paused, I was frozen, racing through my mind to find whatever excuse I could, my hands shaking, trying to summon whatever lie could come to my mind until finally settling on what was not far from the truth. "I've seen the pain that the Fire Nation has brought to others. I myself have been a part of it. I never want to be a part of that process again. I want to fight against it however I can, finally do something to make amends."

He was silent, his eyes scanning over me, looking me up and down, sizing me up. "You ashmakers have been hunting us down for as long as I remember, but it wouldn't be the first time we've made allies of enemies. If what you say is true, if your intentions truly are in fighting against the evils that your nation has done, then you'll have my support. Do Kiu and his men know?"

"No," I said.

"Good. I've seen his men. You best do a better job hiding yourself around them than you did us. My men are loyal, obedient. They won't act without my orders, so I recommend you do a good job of staying true to your word, and you won't need worry about my men reacting as they only logically should."

I nodded, that moment of tension ending nearly as quickly as it had begun as he turned back to Gordez, asking, "So what would Kiu have us do?"

"The Fire Nation is marching on the Earth Kingdom settlements to the South of the Nip Sea. They're going to need our supports. If we can have your help in defending these people, ensuring we hold on to our settlements here and not lose the sea to the Fire Nation, it would go a long way to crippling their forces in the region. We do that, we remove their foothold here, and make it easier to stop their mission in the Earth Kingdom to find these spirits."

"Hmm. I will gather my men. I'll send some of them to the North to find your Separatists. The others, I will rally them. They'll be ready when the attack comes. We'll give the Fire Nation a run for their money yet."

And just like that, it had ended. We were alive, and we had fulfilled our mission. Congratulations, Luke. You've just escalated this war.

Junior Lieutenant Zhao

The battlefield had been picked clean. The Hami celebrated their victory over their rivals, the Maojiawa Tribe, seizing a number of their sand-sailers, stripping their bodies clean of whatever possessions they had on them, weapons, armor, and simple supplies alike.

We'd lost 3 men throughout the battle, including the 2 who had fallen before the real fighting had begun, and the one whose face had been horribly mutilated by the sandbender assault. We had many more wounded, their wounds severe, but for the most part, at least with prompt medical attention, survivable wounds. The majority of the merchants had been killed, not having been offered the protection that our armor had given us. Their bodies had been torn to shreds, one even bearing a mangled remain of an arm, having faced the brunt of the sandstorm, nothing save a few loose threads connecting it to its owners shoulder to indicate that it had been an arm in the first place.

The mounts had fared no better, especially the camelephants. The storm had been enough in itself to kill the beetles. The camelephants on the other hand, far less protected, faired far worse. It was a grizzly sight. I wondered if we would be able to salvage any of the meat for eating. The mounts had fallen dead atop our supplies. I wanted to believe that most of our goods had survived, but judging by the damage they seemed to have taken from the sandbender assault as well, it was doubtful that we'd be making out with any more than half of what we'd come in with.

The merchants did not seem particularly enthused with the current deal between us and the Hami, having offered up their surviving goods as payment to escort us across the Si Wong, but in observing their surviving force compared to the combined numbers of ourselves and the Hami, they were wise enough not to offer any form of protest, simply accepting that the situation was no longer theirs to control.

They were forced by the situation to accept their fate, and so they'd join along with us as we mounted the Hami sand-sailers. It only took a minimum of 10 seconds to comprehend the mistake we'd made in not going to them first. We were roaring across the desert, northbound, the wind and sand against our faces as we rode.

The bodies of the dead were being carried along in tow. The sandbenders were smart enough to know that there was money in the business of corpses. Being able to keep track of the fallen in times of war, it was by no means common, and there was money to be gained in returning the bodies of the dead to their respective people. The Fire Nation would pay, and I wanted to imagine that the beetle merchants would pay as well for the recovery of their fallen, though I couldn't be too sure.

It was hard to know we were going save for the knowledge of one single cardinal direction, being North, the setting sun the only tool to guide our way, yet the sandbenders navigating the endless expanse of sand as though they knew it like the back of their hand, and frankly, it seemed more than likely they did, raised on the desert's brutality from birth onward. As a villager may know his surrounding forests, a street urchin his alleyways, the people of the Si Wong, throughout the generations, had laid claim to this expanse of the Earth as their own, and they behaved accordingly, at one with the desert.

Around half of an hour had passed until we began to slow. A quick observation was enough to unveil the village growing on the horizon. It was easy to mistake as simply more hills until we drew closer, realizing the hills bore windows, doorways, canopies, other decorations, human figures moving among them. It was obvious as we approached. I laughed to myself. What had I been expecting? Steel structures rising from the sand? A majestic palace gleaming in the setting sun? Now that I thought about it, that was precisely what I was looking for, reminding me of the matter at hand.

We eventually came to our stop, a mass of people emerging from the structures, gathering from where they had been scattered only moments prior along the empty space between the village hills. I knew that, among there, there at least had to be some degree of hope in finding what I came here in search of. It had been the Hamis in the first place that I had roamed out in the desert in search of, and here I was. Whether things would pan out as intended, that was a separate matter, but matters had been sailing smoothly thus far, in both a literal and metaphorical sense, and thus wanted to believe that matters would continue to do so.

Among those that rushed out to greet us were multiple children, already bearing the standard apparel of the sandbenders, full bodies and heads wrapped in protective cloth to ensure the full weight of the sun did not bear down on them, the only indicators of their youth being their height and excited voices as they rushed out.

It was a hero's welcome in ever sense of the word, the sandbenders practically celebrities for their people. Who could blame them? They came back with food, water, riches from time to time. They were the force that kept the tribes afloat. While domestic duties of ensuring safety, order, and functionality were all of importance, the matters of keeping the people fed, watered, healthy, that all lay on the shoulders of those who roamed out in search of the means to survive. For some, this meant trade, for others, as we saw with Maojiawa tribe, meant reaping and pillaging.

The ecstatic attitude soon spread to benders. While they hadn't exactly been grim in the wake of their victory over the rival tribe, it was easy to see just how much more excited they became to see their wives and children once again, returning home the victorying conquerors, bearing gifts for all those they cared for to enjoy.

Even the chieftain, who had now removed his helm, revealing an older man, or perhaps that was merely the effect of living in such a sunny hellscape, seemed to be reveling in the praise and attention, but his face soon stiffened as he turned towards Harzek and me, our existence as trade partners not nearly extending to friends. "You two, with me. Make sure your men stay in line. Your Nation already has a negative reputation as is."

Harzek nodded, facing towards one of his men who was already disembarking, the infantryman I recognized as Kay'zak, and said, "Sergeant, keep the men in line. Make sure they stay on their best behavior."

"Yes sir."

Good man. Loyal man. The kind that was a credit to the Fire Nation, understanding his duty to both his Nation and his commander, not questioning his orders, simply obedient to the letter. Even I could stand to learn a thing or two from his type.

We followed the chieftain, reaching one such mound that did nothing to stand out from the others, just as simple and shoddily put together, but as we entered, it quickly became possible to see just how they lived the way they did. The interior was sturdy, sound, well-decorated, cozy even. He had led us to his home, no war room, office, anything along those lines. This wasn't a military organization, I had to realize. These were normal people, or at least as normal as sandbenders could be.

"Please, take a seat. Tea?"

I shook my head, but Harzek nodded, thus prompting me to follow suit and also accept a warm beverage, which was promptly prepared, poured, and distributed to us all in silence as he gave us the time needed to ease our minds, or in my case, get all the more tense, wanting to get down to business, knowing that library was out there, just waiting, more than us than I would have liked already having given their lives for this mission, but the mission was more important than any of us. It had to be followed through.

After we had the drinks in our hands, having sipped from them accordingly, he sat across from us at the dining table where we were seated. "I'd introduce you to my wife, but sadly, she has long since passed, and my own children already have wives and children of their own." He adorned a sad smile, the wrinkles on his face not doing nearly as much as his eyes did to paint a clear picture of his age. "You're both young men. You don't understand. Not yet. We are not fighters here. We do what we must to survive, but we are not warriors, not soldiers, simply families trying to survive however possible. We want no part in your war."

"We're not here to drag you into the war," Harzek reassured. Not yet. In all due time, the Fire Nation would reach this desert, all the sooner if the Nip Sea conflict went according to plan. When that time came, the tribes would be given a choice: submit or be conquered. I prayed they chose the former.

"So why is your Nation here then if not to bring war."

This was my cue. "We seek knowledge."

"Knowledge hidden in the desert," he echoed my words from earlier. "I remember. However, this desert is wide and sadly, not much knowledge is contained within it. What you state does little to narrow down on your quarry."

"A library," I added. "One which contains a store of knowledge unlike anything else that exists in this world."

"I have lived in this desert all my life. I do not know of such a thing that exists."

"It's a colossal building," I said, recalling the image from my dreams, the mighty structure standing in all its grandeur. "A massive doorway, multiple domed wings all connected together by a monolith of a superstructure, bigger than anything that which mankind has ever built."

"The largest structure I've ever seen built by mankind was the Misty Palms Oasis," he chuckled. "The ruins, however-"

"The ruins?"

"Yes, but not built by man. By the spirits, however, but these ruins are plentiful and scattered throughout the desert, and none match the colorful description you have provided."

I looked down. I just must have not explained it right. It existed here. It had to. I looked over to Harzek. His frustration was beginning to show, but only for a brief moment. 3 of his men, and 5 in total ever since the swamp, had died for this. It had to be worth something. "We'd like to examine these ruins anyway," he stated. "Perhaps they can say something of what we're after."

"Hmm. If this is what you wish."

"We would also ask for safe passage and guidance to these ruins."

"I have taken you as my guests, and you have helped yourselves to my tea. As your host, it is my duty to help you. You will have my protection and guidance. We will leave tomorrow."

"Not now?" I asked, my anticipation already getting the better of me, a knot of excitement in my stomach to see just what we could find, the blow suffered of hearing he'd never seen such a structure needing to be replaced by something, something more, hopeful. I needed this, and while I had no doubt he saw this, he was unflinching as he said, "To roam the desert in the night, while not nearly as scorching, presents its own dangers. Some of which are best avoided. We will leave on the morrow. I offer my home to you. I will encourage my people to offer up their open beds to your men, as well but if they decline, you will not force them. My people will not be coerced nor bullied. May I have your names. I like to know who it is that I am housing."

"My name is Harzek," Harzek, obviously, spoke first. "Lieutenant of the Fire Nation."

I spoke next, saying, "Zhao, junior lieutenant of the Fire Nation," already feeling the sting and embarrassment of speaking my rank out loud especially following Harzek's own rank. With any luck, this would once again prove to be only a temporary setback until I proved myself a valuable asset to the Fire Nation through this assignment.

"I am Shilo," the Chieftain with a name now said. "I welcome you to my village."