All That Was Left: Honor

by All That Was Left

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.

31. Chapter 28: Something Familiar

Luke

It could only have been considered a miracle to left on the good terms that we did. And by that, I mean not through the bowels of some undiscovered swamp beast after having been chopped into bits by a band of vengeful swamp-based revanchist waterbenders.

We were escorted out by the personal guard of the commander, whose name we learned to be Karnook. He had expressed the faith he had in his men, but notwithstanding, especially in the wake of what had transpired, I imagined that he wanted to take extra care to ensure our safety. I had no doubt that, yet still, he would have preferred to see our heads mountain on pikes around the perimeter of the swamp as a warning to others rather than dedicated his resources to guiding us and ensuring our safety. The present state of the war, however, seemed to have re-shifted his priorities.

He had ushered us out of his town hall before summoning in what I could only assume to be his more trusted commanders, or chiefs, or whatever they were culturally called. We waited outside as the village continued to move undetected through the swamps. I couldn't help but wonder just what path the village took, if it simply went in a never-ending circle, possibly a figure 8. There wasn't much time to consider the village's path nor trajectory before he emerged from his equivalent of a command structure.

"Seems we don't have much of a choice. The decision has been made to help you in your struggle. You Separatists, you'll be expecting us?"

"They won't attack you on sight," Gordez verified, things already beginning to move along quicker than I'd imagined they would.

"Then I'll send a group of my men to your Separatists. Will it be safe to presume that Kiu hasn't moved locations?"

"Couldn't tell you for certain. I don't know what location he gave you."

"Hmph. Fair enough. I would ask for one of you to stick around and help guide us to your people, but after yesterday, my people will need some time to cool off. Didn't do much to help anything with that scuffle yesterday. Tensions are high right now, but once we're fighting the Fire Nation again, things'll ease down. But I am concerned nonetheless."

"What about?"

"We lack the resources to stage a proper fight. Some of the more revanchist ones amongst us have been raiding Fire Nation convoys and sinking back into the shadows, but they're down to using antiquated weaponry and resorting to guerilla warfare, but we lack any means to put up a proper fight. Hell, we've barely been sustaining ourselves as is. Fresh food and water aren't easy to come by in the middle of the swamp. We used to trade with a town to the southeast of us: Heigou, Earth Kingdom, but they've gone quiet as of late. Haven't heard from them for the last couple of days. Our scouts have been watching the mountains to the Northeast, so we don't believe they've circumvented the swamp, and if they came by way of the Nip, we would have heard word from the coastal towns first, so we don't know what to make of it. We know you've come down this way to help out the Earth Kingdom along the Nip, but if you can check in on Heigou first, see what's going on, I'd appreciate it."

Gordez nodded. Anything to try and start making up for the shitshow from yesterday. "We'll check it out. Make sure things are fine down there."

"Thank you. Village is currently nearing the south of the swamp. You can get off there, my men will escort you out, and from there, I'm sure you'll be able to find your way."

"We'll manage. Thank you."

"I suppose I should be thanking you too, but on the other hand, I can't help but feel like you're dragging us into a war we're grossly unprepared for. But I suppose that doing nothing is the only way to guarantee we all die here. So, in that case, thank you."

"This won't be a suicide mission."

"I suppose we'll find out."

And Karnook had stood by his word. He did just as he had promised, and we were escorted out of the swamp, by some miracle, at least relative to how we entered, still breathing.

Fire Nation Junior Lieutenant Zhao

Only half of us went into the desert. The other half would stay behind with the Hami on the basis that, with many of their own fighters leading to guide us, the village would need protection in the meantime. They had seen our train of thought. Perhaps too well. I had the feeling that both of us were very aware of what was really going on. Insurance. In case the half of us that went into the desert didn't make it back. Fire Nation armor, weapons, and supplies were valuable, especially if sold to the right buyers. Needed to discourage any funny business some way or another, and sadly, words alone would not be enough to assure good will. "Deals in the desert" after all, I mused.

2 sand skiffs had departed, 4 Fire Nation soldiers on each, accompanied by 6 sandbenders, each vehicle holding 10, though not comfortably. While Shilo, the Hami in charge, had taken it upon himself as his duty to help us in our mission, he was no idiot. He didn't want to commit any more resources to this than he had to. Almost reminded me of Harzek in that way, though I had the feeling that Shilo's precaution came from something rather than cynicism.

Even from where I was sitting, clinging on to the side of the sailer for dear life as we spend across an endless sea of fluctuating sand dunes, I was able to notice the tension apparent in our driver's body, the way that the sandbenders would double take before each added burst of energy they added to their whirlwinds of sand, pushing the sailer along.

Shilo was in front of both me and Harzek, and his apprehension was no less visible than it was for the others.

"Expecting company?!" I yelled over the wind, or at least, tried to.

Somehow or other, he managed to hear me though, not turning from where he was, simply saying over his shoulder, "Humans aren't the only things one has to look out for in the desert. Cruel conditions breed cruel survivors."

"What do you mean?!"

"Let's hope we don't find out!"

Harzek was seated behind me on the skiff. It seemed as though the nervousness was contagious by the way his head was darting around, though not scanning the horizon as the tribals were, rather, looking between the tribals themselves. After losing 3 men the way he did just yesterday, it was no small wonder he was on guard.

The Hami had proven themselves to be the accommodating hosts. They'd sheltered and housed our men at Shilo's request, some even expressing a degree of gratitude in our assistance battling the Maojiawa. They'd dressed the wounds of our injured and wrapped the bodies of our fallen. The surviving merchants were paid for what merchandise had survived the conflict and had been hastily returned to Misty Palms, leaving only me, Harzek, and our men as the sole outsiders in their village. Yet despite that, there had been no ill will shone to us. It wasn't too surprising all things considered. The desert was one of the few places that the war hadn't touched. If anything, the war had made the desert that much more valuable for smuggling goods across the continent for people who'd naturally rather avoid Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation by going through the desert rather than around.

Notwithstanding, if there was one thing I could rely on Harzek for, it was consistency. His priority throughout everything had been the survival of his men. For that, despite the pain and grief it had caused me, I could respect him.

The ride carried on, and the hours drew on at a snail's pace. Or maybe it had only been minutes. I wasn't the only one growing impatient. I was sharing the sailer with, in addition to Harzek, Krezk and Zaik. I had no doubt that, after last time, Zaik had already experienced his fill of the desert. He didn't give off the impression hating the inhabitants themselves, but the overall environment on the other hand. Needless to say, his discomfort was apparent, though he endeavored to keep his mouth shut. Krezk had monitored his behavior less effectively, however, to the point that he, in his infinite brilliance, thinking it would allow the time to pass quicker, stood up to walk around the skiff, nearly falling overboard as the sailer passed over a dune, having to be saved by a combined effort from Zaik and two other sandbenders, whom he promptly shoved away.

"Should've let him fall" Zaik quipped to the other sandbenders, hoping to ease the tension, but was only met with a growl and prompt, "Fuck off, Zaik" prompting Harzek to step in and order them to "cut the chatter."

Both obeyed.

I was forced to stifle a chuckle as I watched it occur from a distance.

Save that brief moment of levity however, the rest of the ride was passed without much incident in relative silence, until I noticed however that our speed was falling.

"We slowing down for a reason?" Harzek asked, having no reason to yell, the wind now much quieter given our slower pace.

"See that mesa straight ahead?" Shilo pointed out. I turned at the same time Harzek did, and it was a miracle we hadn't seen it up until now. The thing was a massive formation of stone just sitting in the middle of an otherwise untouched sea of sand. "Not the only one in these deserts. Things are hives buzzard wasps. We're not small enough to eb their prey, but you stir the nest, and those things come after you, their venom will be more than enough to render you dead in just a few excruciating hours."

"So shouldn't we be going as fast as we can away from it rather than sitting here?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"These rock formations aren't just used as hives. Well, they are, but not for wasps. Some are cleared out. Turned into residencies for other tribes in the area. Mostly the larger ones that could spare the manpower to take and clear these things." He turned away from us now, to one of his fellow tribals, who we now noticed was peering through a looking glass at the rock formation. "See anything, Hulon?"

There was no response for a while as the man supposedly named Hulon kept his eye trained through the scope, eventually saying while still holding it to his eye, "Can't be sure, but I think I can make out some sailers."

"Can you tell which tribe?"

"Too far to see any insignias. Sailer make looks to be She'wani, though."

"We'll keep our distance then." Shilo turned to the driver. "Keep a wide berth. They may be waiting in ambush. I don't want us taking any chances!" He was met with a nod of affirmation.

"Expecting trouble?" Harzek asked.

"Can never be too sure. I know the She'wani's leader, respectable sort, but I also know he's losing control over his tribe. Too weak-willed. Younger upstarts challenging his authority and acting on their own whims." He turned to the driver once again, yelling loud enough to also be heard by the adjacent skiff which had also stopped when we did. "Get the sailers moving. Make for 300 degrees. Let's not give them any reason to-"

He was interrupted by the sudden boom of a burst of sand rising from the desert floor, and the sickening crack of the sailer to our side being torn apart by the sheer force of the sudden torrent of sand that had emerged as though from midair. It was there one moment, gone the next, only a slight disruption in the sand left in its wake. It had been pulled into the earth, beneath the sand. We're next.

"Ambush ambush!"

We could all feel the way the world shifted around us, as though we were suddenly floating on air, the sand beneath our sailer shifting to unveil a gaping hole leading straight beneath ground. There was no pause, no hesitation in the minds of the sandbenders, Shilo included, as they dropped all else they were doing, reporting to respective sides of the vessel, counteracting the rotation of the sinkhole that threatened to consume us. "Gani, get us out of here!" Cried Shilo, prompting the man who I could only assume to be Gani to drop his effort in assisting the counter-rotation, instead funneling a stream of sand to the sail, despite the tension in his body, managing in a fluid movement to create a tornado of sand, generating enough of a current to get the sail flapping, but the suction of the whirlpool was not easily overcome.

There was nothing we could do. Harzek, Zaik, Krezk, and I were all severely out of our elements, literally.

"Shilo, help me out over here!" Gani cried.

Shilo now, still putting all of his energy into counteracting the sinkhole's pull, sweat beading down his aged skin as just barely visible behind the wrappings around his head, shifted one hand from the wall of sand enveloping us to the tornado that Gani was generating. It noticeably had grown in strength now, and a very real struggle was being fought between us and whoever was responsible for this sinkhole, because by no means was it a natural cause.

We were rising back to the night, the sinkhole being slowed, and the artificial wind being granted to our sail allowing us to take a vertical ascent out of our destined tomb. The sandbenders had dug their feet into the vessel, essentially using the sand scattered across the sailer as a glue, bracing them in place. Meanwhile, those of us without their same gifts were clinging onto the vessel for dear life, reduced to simply praying, watching the light slowly approaching further, praying it didn't die.

"One last push!" Shilo cried. "On 3! 1…2…3!"

And in one unified motion, the sandbenders focused on the sinkhole, himself included, retracted their arms, pulling sand from the walls enveloping us to the sides of the vessel, then in just as combined a maneuver, pushed back out with a force that sent our sailer not just out of the sinkhole, but into the air, propelling like an artillery shell out of a rifled barrel.

We hung in the air for but a few seconds before gliding back down to the surface, the landing softened by the sail and attentiveness of the benders. The moment we touched solid ground, Harzek immediately stood up from where he'd been clinging onto the skiff, first accounting for Krezk and Zaik who still both appeared to be present. He immediately looked off to the side of the sailer where, more or less, the other vessel had been just seconds ago, now gone to the sands. "Wh-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence before, out of the sand, emerged figures: 2, 4, 8, 16, exponentially growing in their numerical strength.

"Get us out of here, now!" Shilo ordered, already joining the effort of creating a second whirlwind to get us moving, but before we could even begin to shift from where we were lying, no shortage of tentacle-like constructs of sand emerged from the desert surface, clinging to the sides of our vessel, holding us in place, ripe for the kill.

I hadn't been able to act now, but I could now. I shot up from where I'd been seated, sending an arc of fire towards the tentacles clinging onto our port side, slicing through them like a hot knife through butter, the base of the tentacles remaining intact, but the sand that had been clinging onto our vessel, now longer under the bender's control, withering away, scattered grains retreating back into an ocean of clones.

The other Hami were already getting to work countering the starboard tentacles before I rushed over to them as well, similarly severing the ties holding us down, but just as I'd done so, we were being clung back onto on our port, bow, and stern. We didn't have enough people. We'd had a firebender, Zaphri, on the other vessel, but I had the cutting feeling that he and the others were out of the picture now. Damnit. This was a fight we weren't escaping from.

There was no denying that as the first wave of sandbenders approached. "They're here to steal the skiff!" somebody yelled, stating what, for me, hadn't been obvious, but not explained the effort they went through in capturing us beneath the desert ocean rather than simply tearing us apart in a moment's notice. They'd try and get close, not wanting to risk their prize with too aggressive of a forward assault. Instead, they would try boarding.

Digging their feet into the sand, hardening the grains around them, and sliding forward as though using ice skates on a frozen lake, they approached, using the sand encompassing their feet to launch them the last few feet onto the skiff. They sought to take us with surprise, but they'd staked this ambush on catching us in the sinkhole rather than facing us in a close-combat battle. They may have had the numbers, but we had the preparation, and such became clear as the first She'wani to board our vessel was promptly impaled through the chest by Zaik's spear, the second cut from shoulder to stomach by Krezk's sword. That covered the first group on the starboard. On the port side however, where Harzek and I were preparing for battle, we faced stiffer opposition, likely having seen a firebender present here, figuring it best to remove me from the picture first. It didn't go their way.

I managed to catch a She'wani in the leg with a particularly powerful blast as he zipped through the sand towards us, tearing his leg in half at the knee, sending him toppling to the sand, verifiably out of the picture. I'd stayed watching him, wondering if any of his compatriots would come to his aid, rendering themselves easy targets for me as well. In watching him as he bled out, however, I'd left my flanks vulnerable. I'd only caught sight of the sandbender directly to my right with the periphery of my vision, turning to face him as he raised a first covered in hardened sand, recoiled, ready to strike, until a wave of brown mist engulfed his face, directed by Shilo. It had all occurred in a blur, but when the mist faded, the skin on his face had been torn to ribbons, the mist that had killed him composed of hundreds of individual grains sent at high speed, burrowing themselves into the pores, scraping through the topmost layers akin to how one grates cheese, leaving his head a mangled mess as he toppled over backwards over the side of the skiff.

It was only when he was down that I heard the gurgled choke behind me, turning to see a masked sandbender, blood soaking his head coverings around the exit point of a steel blade that emerged from where his mouth would be beneath the coverings. The blade retracted, and the She'wani collapsed to his knees, revealing Harzek, and behind him, another sandbender who, at my quick intervention in pushing Harzek aside and sending a burst of fire into the man's face, his head coverings melting along with half of his head, would be unable to finish his attack. A small nod to one another was all it took for Harzek and me to acknowledge one another's deeds in assisting one another, knowing there was no time for celebrations as the skirmish still was being fought.

Somewhere along the fight, the air had around us had grown progressively shrouded, a brown mist covering the world around us, limiting our lines of sight. Whether it was to shroud their movements, hide incoming reinforcements, or something else, I couldn't know, but what I did know was that we were in by no means a pleasant position.

In turning back to the starboard side, I saw that the fight was intensifying there as well, my split-second glance only enough to tell me that Zaik was injured, Krezk stood over them, blade lodged in the heart of a She'wani, a Hami bender, Gani by the looks of him, was creating a wall of sand, warding off the attackers.

My glimpse wasn't long, but enough to have me praying that their numbers didn't go much higher or this fight wouldn't last long for us. I sent another blast of fire at an approaching She'wani, missing unfortunately, but the radius of the fireball and its impact enough to make him stumble on his trajectory towards us, buying some time.

Shilo had bent the sand off to our side, creating a trench of sorts, tripping two approaching She'wani, immediately prompting Shilo to reclose the trench he made, trapping one of the benders beneath the sand, the other just barely managing to escape, recovering his footing and sending a solidified pike of sand towards the man, catching him in the shoulder. I was unsure if the pike merely grazed him or struck him, but notwithstanding, he was down. There was no time to worry about him as I countered with a fire stream, ensuring I caught him in the line of fire as he attempted to re-engage in his sand-skiing. He didn't escape.

Harzek was already checking on Shilo when I turned. The man seemed to be alive, the shard only tearing some flesh at the edge of his shoulder. He was already rising back to his feet. He'd be fine. Assuming any of us lived, that is. "Shilo!" I yelled. "We need to go! Now!"

He nodded, turning to the starboard side. "Hulon! At the helm! Gani! Get us out of here!"

I turned to momentarily face his gaze. Hulon was down, on the ground, his condition grim. Our starboard was being hit. Hard. Shilo didn't waste any time, already forming a sand spout into existence by the sail. The She'wani were too occupied in boarding us to have had their attention shifted on holding us down. We began moving.

I finished burning a She'wani on the starboard just as Harzek's blade cleaved halfway through an enemy's midsection when those still on the surface began noticing we were moving once again, all those present dropping whatever they were doing, sending sand funnels to hold us down, others turning the sand beneath our vessel into a near liquid state, quicksand, sinking us into the earth.

Oh I don't think so. I quickly burned through the funnels holding our port side, the living Hami on the starboard unmaking the ones holding us down there. I approached the stern of the vessel, planting my feet, clasping onto whatever handhold I could find with my left hand. "Hold on!" I yelled to nobody in particular, not giving them much time however as time was something we didn't have much to spare. If we stayed here, we'd die. If we stayed here, we'd be overrun, captured or killed. We'd never find the library. We'd never learn how to win the war. The Fire Nation's advance would grind to a halt. I'd die disgraced, my last career move disobeying direct orders and overriding a superior's command, my potential blown to shreds, my destined future lost. It was that fear, that anger, that dedication to create my own fate, my own destiny, that fueled the energy that I channeled within me into my right arm, creating a powerful stream of fire that shot out, the sheer force of the blast propelling us forward, sending the entire vessel shooting out of the quicksand, speeding on forward ahead.

Blasts of sand chased behind us, but none came close, be them shooting off course or being warded off by our benders. We were away from the immediate fighting.

The wall of sand before us grew. We were drawing close. None of us knew what to expect on the other side, be it reinforcements, empty desert, or maybe even those buzzard wasps Shilo had warned us about. But whatever it was, we had to believe it was better than saying here.

We reached the wall of sand, bracing ourselves for the transition ahead, and readying for what lay on the other side.

Luke

I hadn't envisioned countryside the way I saw it now. My last experience with vast tracks of cropland had been in using them as a battleground, trapped between two walls of solid stone, fighting every day for my life between them. It almost felt…wrong to see them this way, stalks of corn, wheat, and other crops simply blowing to the east with the wind. They were almost ready to be harvested by the looks of it. Assuming there's anybody left to harvest.

"Think the village was wiped out?" I asked to nobody in particular as we made our way through the dividend separating the acres of field, voicing the obvious question that was on all of our minds.

A small silence passed between us, all of us knowing it was a very real possibility, but none of us wanting to be the one to bring down the mood. Lower than it already was, that is. "Soldiers do things during war." Ka'lira spoke up. Earth Kingdom sure did when I was travelling with them."

Additional knowing looks were exchanged between Gordez, Zek, and I, none of us naïve when it came to the "things" that happened, the crimes committed, all of it. None of us were excluded from these crimes, me least of all. I killed those who were fleeing, injured, surrendering. I slaughtered the innocent, the helpless, those I'd sworn to protect. I shook the thoughts aside. Can't dwell on it. Can't let myself dwell on it anymore. It's the past. I'm not that person anymore.

The conversation didn't continue past that point. It was probably for the best that it didn't.

We continued walking along the fields, headed east. It was quiet. I would add "too quiet" but that implies I'd be expecting a threat. The silence that encountered us rather, was deathly, hollow, as though we were treading along a graveyard, dead bodies all that fertilized the cropland around us. The only noise to interrupt the silence was the cawing of birds as they flew overhead. West. The more we walked, the more steps we took, the more my question began to seem idiotic. None of us were expecting the best. A town goes quiet out of nowhere, empty fields not being attended to, birds flying away from where they would normally expect to find food rather than towards, and last, the plumes of black smoke that finally revealed themselves beyond the day's foggy haze. Heigou.

I don't think any of us were surprised. Whether we were soldiers or not, we'd all been touched by war here. Hell, Ka'lira had probably experienced firsthand the brutality more than any of us, but none of us were strangers to it. I couldn't help but let my mind return to Stone's Edge, the burning bodies, the aftermath, the senseless murder, rape-

My thoughts, thank the Spirits, were interrupted by Gordez clearing his throat and speaking up, saying, "Let's-let's get down there. See if we can do anything to help." His words were shaking as they came out. I couldn't fault him for that. Odds were these were our guys responsible-Fire Nation. When it was the enemy that did it, you were pissed, your nationalism and patriotism intensified, almost glad it happened to further reinforce your thought that you were the good guys, fighting against the unquestionable evil. Then things start to not go your way anymore. Victories become defeats, supplies stop coming in as frequently, morale falls, and sooner rather than later, it's those on your side who start doing the same thing. Then it's just the hollow realization that you're no different from your enemy. At that point, you go two ways: you either decide that it's the norm and follow along, or you live with the guilt and despair. I'd done both.

The approach to the village was a quiet and somber one, naturally, but behind it all, I felt as though there was some residual anger and frustration. We all could acknowledge the impracticality of it. There were some minor strategic reasons to be sure, namely cutting off trade to the Revanchists, but I had my doubts that whoever was responsible for this massacre was even aware of that. If such had been the case, they wouldn't have just burned down the village. They'd have taken hostages, interrogated the inhabitants, learned the location of the Revanchists, tried to track them down. This wasn't a military maneuver. This was just brutality, trying to lower the morale of the enemy. And damn it. It was working.

There was no way of knowing how recently the village had been burned to the ground. Smoke was still flying into the air, fires still burning in some of the worst-hit parts of the village. Embers still cling to charred wood, begging for something more to satiate their appetite. It didn't take much power from me anymore to silently quell the burning embers, letting them sleep once and for all, ending their unsatiable hunger for more. That was fire. Jeong Jeong's words never stopped going through my head since the day he'd told me those words, how fire was alive, how fire was hungry. At first, I'd been excited. I considered myself powerful for my ability to control it, believing as though I were the tamer of some great beast, like in the circus shows that'd come to Citadel from time to time. I intensely believed that this power was in my hands rather than the other way around. Then I saw what my fire was capable of at Ba Sing Se. Not just the fire that I chose to unleash, but the fire that burned inside of me. I became afraid of both at around the same time, terrified of when both would leave my realm of control. I was still afraid. While a part of me detested the Separatists for how they kept me down, held me back from using my abilities to protect myself, I couldn't help but think that a part of me was happy for the excuse to not unleash myself, happy that I didn't need to worry about going out of control.

At times like this however, as simply looking at the fires burning could allow me to put them out, I couldn't help but believe that things could be different now, that maybe I had found a sense of purpose, of inner peace with my inner fire that would allow me to better control the fire outside of me. That's just what you thought last time and looked what happened. Then the other part of me worried that was simply cockiness, the same cockiness that had made me a killer, a murderer, a psychopath. Never again.

I was reminded of oh so many towns left in the wake of invading armies. Burned out buildings, bodies scattered across the ground, upturned cabbage carts, scurrying footsteps in the mud, almost as though I could see the scene playing out in front of me-the Komodo rhinos entering the town, splitting up, no doubt firebenders among the cavalry, separating to cover separate sections of the town, burning it starting at the outskirts, forcing the villagers closer to the center where the marauders themselves joined, finishing off those they'd rounded up. And during all of that, the last minutes of the frightened as they clung to whatever life they could: the charred skeleton of a parent holding a child in their arms, backed up against the corner of a small scorched home, the half-incinerated corpse of a man who had been in the middle of opening up the cellar door behind his house, the caved-in skull of a small child with a blank look on his eyes, as though he had no idea what was occurring around him. See if we can do anything to help. Gordez's hollow words echoed in my mind. What CAN we do? A dead woman was nailed to the side of a house by multiple arrows lining her body, slumped over, held up only by the arrowheads pinning her up, a dog with a grizzly scorch mark along its hide, flies feasting on its innards, lay atop its deceased master, sticking by its owner until the very end.

I only realized after a small while that my hand was shaking. No, wait. My entire body was shaking. I hadn't noticed until I just felt Zek place a soft hand on my shoulder from behind me, enough to make me jump, scared out of my mind until realizing it was only him. The look on his face said enough when I turned to face him. He understood. Nobody among us wasn't horrified by what we saw, a woman's body severed at the waist, her torso yards away from her lower body, a disturbing trail of blood connecting the two via the asphalt on the ground. Why? Who would do this?

You would. You did.

I was still shaking. I had the feeling the shaking wasn't going to let go of me any time soon.

We were approaching the center of the town now where no better a sight awaited. The center of the town was marked by a postal tower where incoming ravens, hawks, and other messenger birds would arrive and depart from. No birds nested within. In their place, bodies hung, lynched from their necks, limp, all of them dead.

There was a silence between us all as we could do nothing but watch.

"We should cut them down," Ka'lira said, speaking up first among us.

"Y-yeah," Zek said shortly after, unsheathing his blade at his side, stalking slowly closer to the tower.

The smell was starting to get to me. I could smell it better than I'd smelled anything else in the world. The burning, rotting flesh. I'd smelled it before. Back in Ba Sing Se, the people I myself had burned alive. I remember thinking it smelled good at the time. I wanted to puke, not sure if it was the smell, or the memory of actually enjoying this once upon a time. I had to lean upon a signpost for support, positive that I was about to puke out breakfast, lunch, and anything else I'd eaten in the last week all at once now. I bent over to gag, feeling a strange drop on my head. Is it raining? I looked up, only met by the sight of, atop the signpost, a head mounted. "Fuck!" I yelled to myself, falling backwards in the mud from the surprise, reaching up to my hair to try and wipe the blood off out of hysteria as though that would work, stopping myself short as I simply lay ass first on the trail, my breaths labored, waiting for my heart to slow, and my breathing as well.

I turned towards the others. They were not fairing much better. Zek had barely cut down one body and already, he was sitting on the ground against the postal tower, Ka'lira close at his side, a hand on his shoulder. Zek was wiping at his mouth, cleaning the bile away. It seemed I wasn't the only nauseous one here. Gordez wasn't far off and was looking towards me rather. Our eyes met for a small enough moment for him to ask, "You alright?"

"Yeah," I coughed. "Yeah, I think so." I was very far from alright.

He nodded. "Come on. Let's get going. No reason for us to-"

"If you're here to loot." A new voice. We all turned to face it, coming from the east of the town, the direction opposite of the way we'd come in. "Then you're too late. Everything is already gone." It was an older woman speaking. I'd place her at around her 60s, her face wrinkled, as with most of her body, at least what was visible in spite of her robes, and I assumed her hair grayed if not whitened beneath her head covering. It all began to click to me. The robes, the head covering, I knew I recognized them. She was a nun. Like the ones I'd seen at Citadel who were giving food and medicine to the kids. What the hell are they doing out here? This is a warzone.

"We're not looters, ma'am. We're just trying to help."

"Then I'm afraid you're too late."

"We should let them help." Somebody new now. Somebody younger who'd just appeared from behind the nun. 20s maybe? She had dark hair, but once again, the robes concealed most. Was she behind her the whole time? "There's still some injured needing help, and there might be more alive in the town. The more people to look, the better."

"We don't know if we can trust them! They might be just like the people who destroyed this town, come here now to kill those trying to help. Get Gehor. Have him run off our visitors."

"Y-yes, mother." Despite the hesitation in her words, the young girl followed her orders and ran off. Who's Gehor?

"We should go," I heard Zek say.

"They say there's still injured, and people trapped," Ka'lira protested. "We can't just leave."

"We're not wanted here."

"We're not wanted anywhere."

Zek had no argument for that, the space in which he would have made a retort if he had one occupied by Gordez speaking up, appealing to the nun again, "Ma'am, we assure you, we mean no ill will. We came here because we hadn't heard from this town and wanted to make sure that everything was alright."

"Well as you can see, it clearly isn't. You have your answer now. You can go."

"With all due respect, we can't just leave. If there's people here who still need our help, we're going to stay and help. We'll stay out of your way if you want us to, but you can't stop us from lending a hand to anyone still alive here."

A larger man turned the corner from an alleyway onto the street behind the head nun, this man, presumably Gehor, well-built, adorned in heavy leather armor, sun-tanned skin poking out from behind, a square face topped with dark black hair, a dadao slung around his back. "Mother," he said, acknowledging the nun, a deep voice perfectly accompanying his stature. "Miyang said we had unexpected company?"

"Hmm. That, we do."

"Shall I remove them, mother?"

Her eyes seemed to scan over us, beginning, obviously with Gordez, then shifting over to Zek and Ka'lira, and, lastly, me, myself feeling as though her eyes rested longer on me, perhaps due to my age, myself having been the only one not to speak, some other reason, or perhaps I was merely paranoid and self-centered. It was hard to say for certain.

"Hmm. No. Not yet. They may just prove helpful." She turned back to us. "You say you want to help? Then follow me."

She turned, stalking down the street from which she'd came, leaving Gehor in her wake who stood still as we followed, eyeing us as we passed by, acting as a sentry of sorts, his eyes scanning us from head to toe as though he were checking off items on a list inside his head, ensuring that none of us would pose a threat to this "mother" of theirs.

The group I saw now, at least demonstrated by the three individuals I saw, did not remind me of the same nuns I'd seen in Citadel. It was obvious enough to me that they belonged to the same group, but the manner in which they operated could not have been any different. They lacked the same detachment that they had demonstrated in Citadel. While they'd always been sympathetic, kind, and helpful to those that needed it, they'd always done so with a degree of spiritual detachment as though the pain and sufferings of the world were no part of them, as though they had surpassed earthly misery and suffering. Perhaps it was necessary as a means of reassuring those who were being tended to, but now, it seemed as though they had completely and utterly abandoned that guise, this selfsame misery and suffering very clearly leaving its marks on those I had encountered thus far.

And as we followed, this same sense of newfound attachment to the world's trials would not be shown exclusive as to the three we'd encountered so far, but rather, quite the opposite. We followed this "mother" into the same alleyway that Miyang had retreated into in search of Gehor. The alleyway led deeper into the town, unveiling another square of sorts, connected by 3 other alleyways, all joining to this hidden alcove, small two-story apartment buildings surrounding it, a small well in the center, an area I was sure that, during this town's glory days, had been a nice community center away from the town's center of activity, a haunting ground for those who lived in this general area to establish their own subculture within this later village.

These glory days, however, were gone to the past now, as rather than resembling a community center, this alleyway square now reminded me more of an understaffed military hospital. Across the ground, bodies were scattered, just barely being organized as a number of able bodies wandered around, trying to find where they were needed, which was everywhere, rather trying to find where they were needed most, desperate heads darting back and forth amongst the injured. Those who seemed to at least be able to survive on their own without constant attention being given to them were huddled around a small trash fire burning near one corner of the plaza, the corner diagonal from it, at least by the looks of it, serving as the epicenter of medical care, if "care" was the right word, being granted.

This "mother" was standing still as we caught up, her head tilting back to eye us, as though wondering if we were already in the midst of turning back around, discouraged by the task that lay ahead. None of us were flinching, however. We'd all seen this before. "So you still want to help? Good." And with that, she guided us in taking our first steps into the chaos, herself immediately leading us towards the grizzly corner where the injured awaited, shuffling past nuns and others in plainclothes, all of them, in one way or another, helping the dying, whether it was escorting them from one place to another, scurrying to fetch or return supplies, bearing them on stretchers, anything. It was clear in watching as we went from one side of the square to another that there was a very clear division in the ranks of those offering their services, apparent only in the apparel they donned rather than the way in which they interacted. There were, on one hand, the nuns, made very visible by their robes, but in addition to them, also lending their services, were those who appeared more similar to Gehor, wearing no form of uniform, simply whatever their possessions allowed, all of them of varying cultural descents, sharing only one thing in common-that they were working their asses off to help those who needed it right now.

"Kala," the mother spoke up, addressing a nun whose head swiftly shot around from where she'd been attending to a patient before. A simple nod from the mother was enough to ease her mind enough for her focus to shift back to her patient as mother still spoke from behind. "How is everything looking here?"

"We're doing what we can," Kala said, shifting the body in front of her to clean a wound on the unconscious man's back. "More are dying by the hour, and we're running low on supplies. We've been rationing the poppy seed blend as much as we can, but that just means more pain for more people."

"Just do what you can. Some pain relief is better than none. Have any more survivors been found yet?"

"We haven't checked the south side of town yet. We've had our hands full here. We can't spare any manpower to find more people for us to tend to when we can barely help the ones we already have here."

"The ones here have a fighting chance. The ones out there don't. We have new volunteers. Introductions can wait. Just show them where they're needed and get some people to the South. I'll be helping organize the supplies if you need to find me. Stay strong, sister."

"Yes, mother. Thank you, mother."

Mother left, simply sending a nod in our direction before departing, all of our attention now shifting to poor Kala who seemed overwhelmed as it was, now needing to instruct us as well.

"Do any of you have medical training?" she asked hastily, still attending to her patient, finding a fresh wound still oozing blood, tending to it immediately.

"We all have experience," Gordez spoke up, his head only turning to Ka'lira for verification, who nodded. Made sense. Pleasure servants aboard Navy vessels generally tended to serve a dual purpose as nurses.

"Good. Go down the line of patients. On their foreheads are small hourly calendars we've drawn in ink. Take their pulses. If they're alive, check off the hour. If not, draw an 'X' and we'll dispose of the bodies later. You, boy, what's your name?"

It took me a small moment to realize it was me who she was referring to, requiring her to turn her head to face me once again, her eyes looking directly at mine as her expression asked the question once again without her mouth needing to move in the slightest. "Luke," I answered.

"Alright, Luke. I need you and Zare to go to the south side of the city and search for survivors." I'm being separated from the others? Why me? And who's Zare? I didn't bother asking the first question, despite, of course, wanting to know why I was going to be separated from the only people I knew here, but seeing the second as perhaps more essential to ask, figuring it best to not start whining about doing something on my own away from those I knew, I asked about this mysterious 'Zare' character, the reply being, following her turning her head as though checking to see if this mysterious "Zare" was still present, "Right there. Down the line by patient 86. Tell her to have Shone take her place. Go! The rest of you, you heard me. Get-" Her words were cut off by me already moving in the direction she had indicated, the figure in the distance who I'd just barely seen, presuming it must have belonged to this "Zare" becoming clearer as I approached.

The first thing I noticed was that she clearly was not among the nuns, donning none of their robes, but in their place, a tattered cloak that hung loose around her, the second thing I noticed being her age, closer to mine than anybody else here, her stature being a dead giveaway, even as she was knelt on a knee over a body that, very clearly, was in no pleasant condition. He seemed to be bleeding from a hundred wounds as though he'd been struck dead on by the full brunt of a shrapnel grenade, and as I neared, such seemed to be the exact case. Who the hell would waste those kinds of weapons on civilians? This "Zare" had just finishing attempting to suture one wound when another opened, the bleeding continuing once again, met by a barrage of grunted curses from the poor girl who, very clearly, was becoming overwhelmed with the task ahead of her. I saw the body. I'd seen similar injuries before. If the man wasn't already dead by some miracle, he would be soon. I had no idea how he'd even made it this far, but by the looks of him, he wouldn't be lasting long. I might be doing her a favor in taking her away from this.

"Damnit! Fuck!" grunted Zare from where she was kneeling, now trying to tend to the new injury on her subject.

"Zare?" I asked, questioning at first to make sure I'd approached the right person. Her head turned to face me, indicating that, at the very least, I'd likely found the right person. Despite the dirt, mud, grime, and blood splattered across her face, what struck out most to me was the way her green eyes shown, the brightest part of her appearance, even brighter than the auburn hair atop her head. Or maybe it's only blood. Can never be too sure.

Her gaze lingered on me for a small moment, eyeing me up and down as though she was questioning if she knew me, eventually realizing she didn't, her face merely settling on mine with a questioning look of "What? Who are you?"

"I'm a volunteer. You're Zare, right?"

"Yeah. Why?" Her attention had already gone back to the dying man before her, only listening as I continued, saying, "'Mother' said you're needed out in the town by the south side to help in looking for other survivors with me. Said Shone will take your place."

"Nice as that sounds," she grunted. "I stop putting pressure on this for a second and he's gonna bleed out." Going to bleed out anyway.

"You keep pressure on it. I'll find Shone and have him take your place."

"Fuck that," she spat. "Help me stabilize this guy first, get his blood to stop flowing, then I'll come." I don't know if I'd hesitated, stood there quietly or something, but she yelled, "Well?!" immediately prompting me to get down on my knees beside her.

"Shrapnel," she said, confirming my suspicions as she removed one hand from the wound she was putting pressure on to grab a rag still reeking of alcohol by her side. "Don't know how many entrance or exit wounds, just the ones still bleeding. Put pressure here. Can't get the shrapnel out. Only thing we can do right now is stop him from bleeding out." I did as she bid, knowing from experience both in the streets and on the field how to go about this. My luck in saving a life hadn't exactly been very successful in the past, failing almost every time I could count, whether it was Mishi, Reek, Gan, so many. I tried to banish the memories from my mind, forcing myself to focus on the here and now, and did just as she bid as she removed her other hand from the wound, allowing me to take her place, herself now reaching for a small bottle of gauze that she splashed onto the rag. The blood beneath the palms of my hands was warm. Better than it being cold. It was almost burning to the touch as I put mor pressure on the wound, the blood working its way in the negatives between the fingers of my clenched hands, emerging on the other side on the back of my hands, painting them a dark maroon red. Zare, by this point, had finished preparing the rag, promptly returning it to the wound that I removed my hands from, allowing her to place it atop, the blood immediately soaking in, turning the rag a sickly pink. As she did so, however, I noticed more fluid escaping from the man from beneath his clothing.

"Got another wound," I said, tracing the path from which the blood had come to just below his left breast. Zare was still placing her attention on the current injury, keeping pressure on it, but the way her head had shot up clearly demonstrated concern, nonvocally bidding me to do something about it. I didn't need her to tell me what to do for me to unsheathe my dagger from my belt and bring it to the shirt atop the man's chest, cutting through, knowing that to pull it off would take too long and put too much undue strain on him. I tore his outfit aside, revealing, as expected, another entry wound. There was no way of knowing how deep inside of him the shrapnel piece was, or if perhaps there was an exit wound on the other side of him, but I immediately clasped both of my hands atop the injury beneath his breast, holding it in place as Zare continued to work, taking the bit of shirt I'd cut off, wrapping it around his abdomen, considering that injury done for the most part for now, her attention shifting to the wound I was tending to.

"How bad?"

"Not good. Check his back. There an exit?"

"Help me get him on his side."

I nodded, her handing me the rag, allowing me to keep it on his wound as we put our weight in getting the man onto his right side, me on his front side, Zare on his back. The moment he was turned over, she finished the work I'd started in tearing off the rest of his outfit.

"Your knife," she requested, met immediately by me finding where I'd left it on the ground, flipping it in my hand to pass it to her by the hilt, herself taking it, her eyes briefly flashing over the ornamentation on the hilt before turning the dagger to the clothes on the man's back, cutting through the material, and ripping the last of his clothing aside, setting the blade on the stone ground with an audible clang.

"There's exit wounds, but I don't know if for that one."

"Can't do surgery on him. Not like this. Have to stop the bleeding first, even start to worry about getting the shrapnel out alter." Why was I letting myself become invested? He's a lost cause. There's no way in hell he's going to make it! But I was a part of this now. Had to see it through.

Zare nodded, knowing I was right, helping to ease the man's body back onto the ground, reaching for the strips of his clothing that she'd cut aside, handing me one end which I promptly started before his right armpit, wrapping it over the wound under his breast, helping ease the man's upper body into the air, allowing Zare to take another end of the cloth strip and wrap it around his back, handing it back to me, the cycle continuing until the material was used up, for the most part covering the majority of his upper body, Zare putting the finishing touches in tying it all together on his back, finally allowing me to ease the man back down.

I leaned back down against the ground, resting on the palms of my hand, my chest still heaving from the strain, letting myself take in what breaths of fresh air I could, glad to not be hunched over his dying body, the smell of rot already kicking in. Zare herself was sat back on the ground, eyes scanning the now naked man, looking for any more blood swelling across his somehow still living carcass.

Zare was next to me, also allowing herself to cool off. The task for the moment seemingly at bay, regaining her breath, seemingly satisfied with the current condition of her patient, him at least not set to die on her watch.

She looked off to her side, a familiar scraping off steel on stone resounding as she picked up my dagger from where she'd set it on the ground and, in a manner similar to how I'd done it, flipped it in her hands, offering me the hilt of the blade, which I promptly took, acknowledging her with a slight nod.

There was no blood on it, but I instinctually wiped the blade on both sides with the leg of my pants prior to sheathing the knife once again.

"So," Zare said, speaking up, barely getting the words out between breaths. "'Mother' wants me, and you apparently, to check the south of town?"

"Seem so," I managed to get out, equally breathless, accompanied by a mere shrug.

A shrug of her own followed, proceeded by her planting her feet solid on the ground, and using them as a baseboard to rise to a stand, saying, "Screw it. Fine. I'll get Shone. I could stand to get out of here for a while."

She walked off, presumably in search of this "Shone." I myself rose to my feet, staying put however, giving the injured man an additional look. My arms were covered in his blood, running from my elbows down to the space between my fingers and nails. His chest was taking in a shallow breath once every 20 seconds. He was hardly clinging on to life. He's not going to make it. It was a miracle he'd even made it this far in the first place.

I turned back around, scanning the square and the chaos flowing all around us. I'd lost track of Zek, Gordez, and Ka'lira, but I could make out Zare's figure not far away, talking to a man I presumed to be Shone, herself now walking back towards me. It had been an interesting introduction, if one could even call it that, and I couldn't help but be curious over what our search of the town was going to entail.

My mind remained focused on the task at hand, however. I had presumed all in this town to be dead, but very clearly, such was not the case. There were still people out there. People needing help. One way or another, we were going to give them the help they needed.

"Alright," Zare said, Shone trailing a ways behind her, on his way to take her station herself now getting back to me. "Looks like we're set to go now," she spoke as she had both of her hands brought up to her hair, which I was now sure to be naturally auburn red, undoing the disheveled braid she'd adorned earlier, settling on tying it in a knot instead as a small messy bun, letting her hands fall back to her sides when she was done, wiping the blood off on her pant legs. "Still got no idea who you are though. Didn't exactly get the chance to introduce ourselves. Sorry 'bout that. And for being kinda a bitch."

I chuckled. "No hard feelings. Field surgery isn't exactly the best place to be making introductions."

"Can't argue there. Name's Zare by the way, but seems you already knew that."

"Zare, huh? Interesting name. It's Fire Nation in't it?"

"Caught me red-handed," she smiled smugly. "Born in Fire Nation occupied territory."

"That's a very generic answer," I stated.

"Perfectly fitting a very generic person," she countered. "Not much to the story more than that, I'm afraid. And you are?" she finished in asking, extending a hand.

"Luke," I said, taking hers and shaking it, the two of us only realizing then just how much blood still caked our limbs, both of us proceeding to try and wipe them clean on our clothing soon after.

"Interesting name yourself," she brought up, myself figuring it was definitely a possibility. "Not very often you find somebody with a name like that out here."

I scoffed. "Guess you could say it was something of a fluke then."

"Ah," she said, a comprehending smile growing on her face then as the numbers put themselves together in her head. "Street name then."

"You nailed it."

A small triumphant smile rose to her face, herself brushing a few rogue strands aside, her green eyes once again what I found to be standing out most on her face, a new feature however now coming into sight-a scar along her right eye, rising from the cheek to the brow, an interesting story I was sure behind it. A story I doubted I'd get to learn, unfortunately. Though in the time we'd be in this town, for perhaps a couple of days, it seemed there'd be some interesting company along at the very least. "Well then," she said, getting back to the task at hand. "Guess we shouldn't just stand here lounging about. Let's get going."

Zhao

They were right on our tail. It had been a foolish thought to think we'd lose them upon leaving the haze of smoke and sand.

We'd emerged from the chaos only to find them waiting for us right outside. 5 skiffs in total. They must've arrived while we'd been fighting for our lives, and now, our survival just became a lot more precarious.

I was at the back of the vessel, firing shots at our pursuers. The status of our skiff's crew was not ideal. Zaik was still injured, Krezk watching over him, Harzek and myself still managing. For the Hami however, things were more grim. Hulon was dead, a different sandbender's whose name I hadn't caught had been lost in the storm, and another was dead on our deck.

I fired a shot at an approaching vessel, the blast of fire missing by what seem like miles, the She'wani benders using the sand to redirect some shots and absorb others. It was pointless. Our only chance was speed, and even in that department, we were lacking. The She'wani were gaining on us, the majority of their crews dedicated to accelerating the vessel while we only had Gani and Shilo to speed us along, one last Hami present at the stern to help me in warding off the She'wani attacks. We were managing, though only barely.

Whether it was clumps of solidified sand, burst of sand waves, or something else following those lines, they weren't letting up their offense. We had 4 vessels on our tail, 2 directly behind us, the other 2 to either side of us, speeding ahead, trying to box us in.

Me and the other Hami had our attention split, needing to cover the stern as well as either side. We were managing, though only just, and that's when an attack had gotten past his defense. I saw it just out of the corner of my eye as he warded off a discus of solid sand, knocking it off course so it wouldn't come in contact with our sailer. In that moment that his attention was turned away, the She'wani had seized the moment, manifesting a pike of sand that rose from the desert floor with such pinpoint accuracy that it shot right through the allied sandbender.

The needle of sand tore right through him, disintegrating back into individual grains once it had already served its purpose to cut our defensive capability in half. A hole going straight through the center of his chest, he slumped over, already dead, falling over the side of the skiff, disappearing behind us as we sped along, all of us noticing, none of us daring to let it distract us, much less stop. He was dead. Gone. There was nothing we could do now.

I was alone. Only me to keep us alive right now. Fire. I remembered Jeong Jeong's words. They were all I had right now, whether the rumors about him were true or not. Traitor or not, he had taught me. He had taught me the power of fire. Fire is alive. It lives, it breathes, it feels. Just as your emotions influence your breath, as does it your fire. Your passion, your heart, it is what makes a firebender powerful.

Rage. That was the one word that shot through my head. Rage. I took control of my breathing, letting it become the manifestation of my heart, my spirit, my passion, my unbridled anger. The She'wani knew they'd killed our only other defender. Their attacks were picking up, focusing on me, figuring if they took me out too, there'd be nothing left defending our sailer. They were right on one count-I was the last obstacle, but they couldn't have been any more wrong on the other-I was not going down.

Their barrage came, despite coming from all sides, directly entirely and solely at me. I couldn't block them all at once, but they all had the same target. Breathe in. Their individual blasts would all come together to meet at a single point. I had to wait. For just. The right. Now! I let the breath I'd been holding in out, guiding the energy to flow through my body, my passion's will manifested in a wall of fire that shot out, myself separating it in half, blocking their attacks from either side, the sand blasts falling apart on impact with my stronger defense, the spectacle providing just the right opportunity, just the moment needed for me to make what counter attack I could-a breath of fire, aided by the fire of my hands as well, 3 points coming together as one stronger blast of fire, directed immediately at one of the sailers directly behind us. I let the blast go, and it sailed, taking nearly all of the energy out of me in the process. It shot forward, hurdling through air. The She'wani only had time to try a meager defense, not that it mattered, all of their wards failing to match my strength.

The blast of fire hit home, directly impacting against the bow of their sailer. Like the snapping of a bone, a splintering cry echoed into the desert air, so loud that not even the wind speeding past us could silence it, the explosion reaching out with arms of fire, grabbing at man and material alike, the wood, the skin, the sail, the bones, all of it food for its vengeful appetite. The burning wreck of the vehicle recoiled to its side, skipping on a sand dune, flying into the air like a crashing meteorite when it came falling into the sand once again, one final explosion marking its sendoff into abandonment.

That blast had taken nearly everything out of me. I was leaning against the pilot's platform, currently being operated by Harzek who was serving more as a navigator as Shilo and Gani did the true steering.

He'd observed the vessel get destroyed behind us, but as well noticed the energy leave my body, just in time for another blast of sand to collide with the starboard corner of our stern, chipping off a good degree of wood, sending our vessel sliding from the impact, just barely maintaining its heading.

"We can't lose 'em like this!" Harzek called out.

"Not like this." Shilo agreed. "There! That's our only shot!"

And that's when I saw it, taking the brief moment to turn away from my efforts to defend all sides of the vessel, seeing what he was pointing to-a sandstorm, off to our port side. No.

"Are you insane?!" Harzek cried out. "That'll kill us!" No way in hell.

"I can get us through it."

If I couldn't hear it in Shilo's voice, I could more than definitely see it in his eyes. The confidence, the dedication. If this skiff had been operated by will alone, we'd have been halfway across the Earth by now. Earth. The element of substance. Of stubbornness. Whether we agreed or not, we were going into that sandstorm. We were already turning to face it. It was moving towards us. We'd be fighting against it.

Shilo was standing at the bow, leaving Gani to steer us forward alone. What is he doing? I couldn't see what he was doing from where I was, fumbling for my goggles around my neck, bringing them up to my eyes, raising my facemask as well to cover my mouth and nose. I have a very bad feeling about this. The others around me were doing the same, preparing for what waited ahead. Shilo, however, stood motionless, the wear and tear of his age now invisible as he stood alone, balanced on the portside prong of the bow, nearly concealed ahead of the mast.

We were drawing closer to the sandstorm. The vessels behind us had lagged for a moment, but they were picking up the pace now, their attacks intensifying, desperate to bring us down before we got too close to the storm. Even they were smart enough to fear what was ahead, while us, meanwhile, seemed to have some form of deathwish.

The She'wani attacks had picked back up, and intensely, a discus here, a sand blast here, the majority of them falling off course. As we neared the sandstorm, the wind around us was picking up, knocking both my attacks and theirs astray. I'd have considered that a good thing until, very similar to the one that had killed the other Hami, a pike of sand emerged from the surface, directed immediately towards me, knocked astray by a rogue blast of air, the pike driving itself straight into Krezk's side, in and out of him in the same second. I turned. He was on his knees. I watched. I could only see the eyes behind his goggles as he turned to look at me. Terrified eyes. Blank eyes. Dead before he hit the ground.

Rage.

I saw my target. I saw the She'wani that had done it. I breathed. I'll kill them. I felt the energy flow. I'll kill them all.

"Brace!"

The skiff I was aiming for turned, the fire dying in my hands, no more target it to turn it towards. What?

I pivoted my head to face the bow of the sailer where a wall of brown awaited just a few hundred yards ahead.

I fumbled, letting my breath die, desperately reaching for the navigator platform where Harzek was clinging on to the navigation board, Zaik hugging the mast, Gani controlling the sand torrent with one hand, clinging onto the other mast pole with his free hand, and in front of them all, Shilo just standing at the front, ready for all that awaited him, not a concern in the world.

We were only yards away. He's going to die.

And the wall of sand reached us. I closed my eyes, awaiting the force of the impact, of the complete and total likelihood that we'd be sent flying into the air.

I stayed where I was, hunched over, eyes closed, awaiting an impact that never came. Did we stop? Nothing had changed. Was the storm moving away from us now? I opened my eyes, slowly, wary of the possibility that I'd open them in the exact moment that we struck the wall of sand. But as the world around me slowly came back into my realm of sensation, it became clear to me as though we were in an oasis of peace and serenity amongst a sea of chaos and devastation. Behind me, I could see the brown haze, above me, the selfsame chaos, to both sides, right and left, the devastating brown miss that would have torn us apart in seconds, and directly in front of us, standing at the bow of the sand sailer, the man responsible, Shilo. His hands were out before him, moving his arms in a wavelike motion, bending the sandstorm to all sides of us, using the travelling grains flying in the wind, manipulating them to his side, creating a shield around us in a sense, protecting us from the cruel elements.

I could see the force of the sandstorm around us, the way it tore at the dunes, tearing them apart to move them elsewhere, unearthing the earth itself, set on carrying this piece of the Si Wong somewhere else. We would have been dead in seconds, our skin torn to ribbons, ripped apart, none of us standing a chance. It was by the merit of Shilo, the man standing at the front of the vessel, ready to meet the storm head on, that we had survived.

He seemed to be at complete and utter peace, his eyes shifted simply forward, his motions never ceasing, constantly bending the storm to our sides and above us, evading us as Gani had us speed along forward, the small bubble in which we resided completely windless, us moving along unhindered.

His movements, I thought, as my eyes, in complete and utter awe, settled on Shilo, it looks like he's waterbending.

There was no noise to disrupts the unearthly silence we were all sitting in, none of us daring to speak as though the smallest would disturb Shilo's focus, tearing apart the aegis dome protecting us all, leaving us exposed to the cruel realities of the world around us. So instead, we just stayed put, our eyes moving around us, no words even coming to mind if we had wanted to speak in the first place.

The silent bliss would pass somewhat soon, however, interrupted by a sight none of us had been expecting. It seems we hadn't been the only ones to brave the storm. To our starboard side, a vague shadow, approaching closer-a She'wani sailer. The hell?

Be it by design or by accident, the port of their vehicle slammed directly to our starboard, knocking us astray, questioning the integrity of our protective barrier as small streams of sand were released from the ceiling, dropping atop us.

Their vessel was now completely adjacent to ours, myself now realizing that they themselves were protecting themselves from the storm, a full crew of 10 sandbenders aboard, 2 piloting, 4 on offense, and 4 others managing their protective barrier, one however that was only covering the bow of their vessel, protecting against the brunt force of the storm. Yet Shilo is protecting the entire vessel himself alone. If ever there was a sandbender master's feat to behold, it was this.

I took the risk in letting go of where I was clinging onto the vessel, speeding over to the starboard side, firing a pre-emptive blast of fire at the She'wani, catching them off guard, themselves still attempting to get their bearings after the impact with our skiff. Their distraction wouldn't last long, but luckily, it would be enough, granting me the opportunity to hit a She'wani square in the chest, the blast of fire shot with enough velocity to tear directly through him, sending him to the ground, dead before he could even scream.

The She'wani only granted their fallen companion a moment of attention before redirecting their gazes back to us. Shilo and Gani were busy keeping us in motion and alive, so it was up to us Fire Nation soldiers to defend them. In that moment, I found a difficult-to-resist urge to chuckle at the notion of what was occurring, Fire Navy soldiers, in the middle of the desert, working alongside benders of a hostile nation, while in search of a mythical spirit library. It would be one hell of a story to tell my children once this war was said and done. I shot back into focus. Couldn't have that future if I didn't live to see it. Harzek and Zaik were already back up on their feet, sword and spear in hand respectively. The sandbenders unsheathed their own weapons, knowing that any manipulation of sand right now would be a fool's errand, one that would threaten to question the fragile balance keeping us all alive.

I didn't have that same weakness. I shot another blast of fire, this one directed at one of their shield bearers. Too distracted keeping his crew alive, he had no time to react, the blast caught him in the lower spine, sending him to the ground writhing in pain.

My action was enough to tell the others what my intentions were, forcing the remaining 3 fighters to focus on me, something that would end up proving to be a mistake on their part as it gave Harzek and Zaik the perfect opportunity to go on the offensive, Harzek's blade immediately cutting one from shoulder to stomach as though chopping an axe through wood. Zaik's assailant was more ready, able to parry his spear strike, rendered useless by Zaik's counter-parry, knocking the butt of his spear into the She'wani's head, rendering him stunned, exposed to Zaik's next strike, impaling him directly through the stomach.

By the time Zaik kicked the body off of his spear, sliding it off, Harzek had already killed the other She'wani attacker, and I was already conjuring a continuous spout of fire, sending it across the entirety of their deck. It didn't take them long to realize the hopelessness in maintaining their offensive, and they broke off, but only after I know that my onslaught had already claimed two more of their men. I doubted what was remaining of their crew would be able to fight off the storm, but it was no longer our concern as their shadow crept back into the shroud of the storm.

We had only a moment of respite before an all too familiar figure emerged from behind me, to the vessel's port. That selfsame pike of sand that had already taken two of our crews' lives.

Luckily, in the darkness and confusion of the storm, it only struck air, flying past us harmlessly, it however just a sign of a greater threat-another She'wani sailer, this one, contrary to the last, focusing on a ranged offense, the strength of the bender pushing the attack clearly something to behold in how he was able to allow his attacks to maintain integrity within the storm.

Us Fire Nation soldiers had already sought cover, myself attempting to fire a number of shots that went wide, veered off course by the surrounding conditions.

It seemed as though this new attacker had learned from the mistakes from the last, opting to not draw in too close to us, risking having their personnel wiped out, rather opting to take their chances in attacking us from long range.

Where their attacks lacked in accuracy, they made up for in frequency, rendering it too dangerous to be stood in open view, ourselves forced to resort to cover for survival. Gani was exposed, I just realized. I could already tell the She'wani's renewed attacks were being directed towards him. If we went down, we would be sitting ducks, dead beyond all shadow of a doubt. I emerged from cover, moving to his side, and not a moment too soon, bringing up a small wall of fire in just enough time to block a sandy projectile.

I attempted to return fire, but the wind was causing my fire to be blown away before it could ever reach home. This wasn't going to achieve anything.

"We need to get closer!"

"Their shield only covers their bow!" Harzek called.

"Yeah! So?!" I yelled back.

"Hit them in the stern, knock them on their sides, they'll be torn apart!"

I had been planning on relaying the suggesting to Gani, but he was already on it, slowly, no, quickly, very quickly, approaching them, with almost suicidal intent. We're going to fa-

The thought was interrupted by me nearly lurching forward, only just avoiding falling overboard by grasping onto the mast. Our port bow came in direct contact with their starboard stern. They were spinning, listing to the side, turning, their port side almost being exposed to the storm. Their benders were trying to adjust.

Adjust for this. We were close enough now, the sand shields perfectly blocking off the wind, providing me the perfect chance to let my inner flame made manifest. I extended both of my arms, channeling the anger, the hate, the passion from earlier, letting it all release now from both of my hands. Fire rained upon their deck, eating at every inch of tinder as it spread, ever hungry, ready to consume more and more. It drew their attention away, just as I'd hoped. The fire, the storm, themselves turning even more, it was too much for them to effectively divide their attention. The wind took them, their starboard side completely exposed, and they went flying, the wind uplifting them, hurtling them into the air, flames spinning across their bow, burning bodies, still screaming for life, falling from the deck, carried by the wind of the storm like fragments of a grenade, being scattered in the wind, the burning mass of wood and sail flying above us, my head turning up just in time to watch them disappear behind us as they came crashing back down, spinning in the sand before being uplifted again, a burning ball of fire left to the darkness of the storm.

They were gone. Truly speaking, they were gone. We were in the clear.

Holding back onto the navigator's deck as we adjusted our path, I sank back down to my bottom, sitting down on the deck with a loud sigh of relief, the fighting already over. Only 2 had attacked us. There were 3 when we entered the storm. I wanted to let myself think that they had either refused to enter the storm, opting for the more logical move of doing the exact opposite and heading the other way, or perhaps, better yet, the storm had torn them apart without the need for us to interfere.Either way, it didn't matter to me. I just wanted to pray that the fighting was over, that we were in the clear.

Zaik settled down next to where I was next to Harzek. None of us could have anticipated our time in the desert coming to this. The same thought from earlier came back to me, and I found myself hard-pressed to resist the chuckle, failing, at least partially, a small scoff emerging from my lips. The others bore me no mind. We were all too tired to do anything save sit down right now and close our eyes, all of us just praying to ourselves that the fighting was over.

I don't know how long we must have stayed like this, the only thing changing when, seemingly out of nowhere, Gani had collapsed to his knee. It was only when we turned over to observe that we saw that he was bleeding, a cut in his side.

Our skiff fell to the ground, colliding against the sand, and it felt as though the entire Earth had shook, sand falling from our artificial ceiling, caking my right shoulder in what I feared was just the beginning of the end.

"What's happening?!" Shilo called from where he stood at the bow.

Harzek was already at Gani's side, looking him over, undoing some of the wrappings at Gani's side where he'd been bleeding. "Gani's passed out! Blood loss."

We're sitting ducks. It's already a miracle that Shilo is protecting us as is. He can't afford to move us as well.

"Is he alright!?"

And of course, the man's first priority was the life of his man, the last one he had left of this expedition. I could only imagine where his mind was right now. Hell, where Harzek's was too. We had both lost so many men here, half of them wiped out in the blink of an eye, those who were left slowly being picked off one by one. And now Gani as well was at a risk of being lost.

"I can stop the bleeding!" Harzek cried out. "It's not too bad. He'll be fine."

"Do what you have to do. We'll wait out the storm."

This time it was me who spoke up. I couldn't imagine how much energy it was taking him to support this protection of us. To just sit here, wait out this storm, it could be hours. "We could be here for hours before the storm lets up. Are you sure that-"

"I'll do what I have to do. Just keep Gani alive."

I nodded. "Zhao, help me with Gani. You too, Zaik. Zhao, I need some water from your pack. Zaik, I need some cloth and some booze." I knelt down by Harzek's side, helping him reveal the wound beneath the bandages-a grizzly slash along his side, his wrappings thoroughly soaked in blood.

"I don't ha-"

"Now!"

Zaik nodded, turning to his pack, removing the flask that his water should have been in, uncapping it, instantly filling the air with the strong aroma of Si Wong brew, the same smell that had infected the Misty Palms Oasis tavern.

It didn't take long to piece Gani back together. He would live. It would be hours before he'd be in any condition to move, however. For now, we were trapped here, the desert itself blowing in the wind around us. There was no knowing how long we'd be here. It was the same feeling of helplessness that I always detested, but in this moment, there was nothing that could be done, and I had to come to terms with that. There was only one man keeping us all alive in this moment, and it was Shilo, still standing atop the sand sailer bow, his arms at constant motion, holding the world together around us.

The hours drifted by, slowly, miserably, Harzek's "Now!" having been the last word spoken in this bubble of silence. We were all too afraid to speak, to move a muscle at that, even breathing itself feeling like a risk with each inhale and exhale that we took.

When you focused, you could hear the muffled howling of the wind around us, watching as the world went passing by.

I spent those hours thinking. There was little else that I could do given the circumstances. 5 of our men dead. 10 of Shilo's. While I couldn't see Shilo's face, I could see it in the way his posture had faulted on hearing of Gani's injury before promptly righting himself once again. I was sure that no shortage of regrets was going through his mind as the deaths on our behalf kept on stacking. Now, however, he was being forced to remain strong, even if it only meant saving one more of his men. I had no doubt, despite what little I knew of the man, that he would, without hesitation, put his last breath into defending those under his care.

While I couldn't see Shilo, I could see Harzek, the way he sat next to Zaik, inspecting his injuries, ensuring that nothing was infected or posing a risk to take him out of the fight. I saw it in his eyes. It wasn't anger this time. Not like it had been when we returned from the swamp. I was wondering if the anger was being reserved, but for some odd reason, I didn't get the sense that such was the case. It looked as though he had moved past all anger, himself realizing that taking it out on me would not return his men to him. They were gone. Lost. All he could do now was live with the memory of them and, akin to Shilo, put every ounce of his breath in ensuring no more were lost.

I had no way of knowing what those around me were thinking, but if there was one though I knew we all shared, it was the questioning of if any of this was even worth it. What if it had only been a dream? What if nothing was waiting at the end of this goose chase? What if all those who had died had died for nothing? The Fire Nation was losing soldiers, good soldiers, for what very well may end up having been a fool's errand. And I, the man who led them on this suicide mission, forever disgraced, a shamed failure, a blight on my Nation.

These were the thoughts that plagued my mind for the hours that followed, until the howling seemed to die, and the soft muffle of the storm around us faded into emptiness.

A few seconds were spent of us exchanging looks, of wondering if it really had passed, or we had all mutually lost our senses of hearing and, to a degree, sight.

Minutes passed of what I presumed was Shilo wondering the exact same thing until, eventually, he let the shield drop, and the world outside stood quiet, sun beaming down, no wind moving the sands, just an eerie stillness, and standing in the middle of it all, eyes focused on us and us alone, a fox. Had it been in the storm this whole time?

A red fur coat, white-breasted, it stood on all fours, completely silent, vivid blue eyes staring directly at us.

None of us had any words, all of us sitting still, heads all craned towards the mysterious, out-of-place beast.

I wasn't sure what I had been intending to do, but I moved, likely intending to stand, and the creature turned its head directly towards me. Its eyes were focused on no part of me save my own eyes. Despite the distance between us, I felt as though his face were directly in front of mine, my eyes looking directly into his, seeing a whole world in those teal blue orbs.

And he ran.

"Where's he going?" Harzek asked, his eyes following it. "Shilo! You know what this is?!"

"We should follow it," I said before Shilo could even respond. I don't know why I'd said it, but something, in that moment, told me that wherever it was going is where we wanted to be. Maybe it was just the desperation of having no other options to resort to save a random fox in the middle of an abandoned desert, but I felt, more than I've felt anything else in a long time, that there was nothing more important in this moment that to follow this fox.

My feet were already on the sand, myself having already taken a few jogging steps in the direction of the fox. Shilo had already stepped off board, himself slowly approaching me in the direction of the fox, his caution and temperance matching what I admitted to be my own foolhardiness and enthusiasm. Harzek was still on board alongside Zaik, but before long, he was on his feet, motioning with his hand for Zaik to stay aboard, saying, "Keep watch on Gani." And with that, he dismounted the vehicle, joining Shilo and I.

And so we ran ahead, following the mysterious creature that ran in a single direction, never diverging, only stopping and craning its head as if to ensure we were watching. It maintained its trajectory, changing course for nothing, until, as if emerging out of thin air, a structure emerged-a sandstone tower rising from the surface of the desert itself. There was no entrance, it just shot into the sky. What the hell is this? Where is the fox going?

The fox did not stop in its tracks, maintained its speed as though it were to collide headfirst against the side of the tower. When it reached it, however, it did not stop. Rather, its front paws touched the tower, and as though it were as simple as taking another step, the fox shifted completely vertically, turning at a 90 degree angle, facing upwards toward the sky, and it ran still, up the length of the tower, the 3 of us that had been following it dead in our tracks, knowing such a feat to be impossible for ourselves, only able to watch in befuddled awe as the fox reached the top, turning back to face us one last time before finally entering the window of the tower atop, disappearing from our sight. And with the same mystery that it had appeared to us only minutes ago, it disappeared.

"What-" Harzek barely managed between pants. "What the hell was that? Shilo. You know what this is?"

Shilo could only shake his head, wordless.

"You said ruins in the desert. This what you were referring to?"

Shilo shook his head again. "No, I…I didn't know this was here. I'd never seen this structure before."

Harzek, realizing he'd find no answers with Shilo, turned to me. "Zhao," he said, not bothering to bring up rank. "How 'bout you? You wanted to follow the fox. You have any idea what the hell this is?"

I was staring at the tower, my eyes following it up and down, trying to make some form of sense from it all, as difficult a task as that was proving to be. I thought back on the dream, on the structure I'd seen, towering far above this tower, a measly sandcastle by comparison. The swamp vision replayed itself in my mind, the way I'd approached the grand temple, that grand library, my eyes scanning it from bottom to top, finally remembering what lay at the top. "Yeah," I said slowly, the realization now dawning on me. Atop that library in my dreams, the tower that had marked its peak, watching over all the Earth surrounding it, now reduced to a measly lookout in the middle of an abandoned desert, the only point of the grand library that still was exposed to the outside, a beacon only for those who sought it out, waiting in plain sight for only those with the right will for it, to seek it out. "We found it."

Luke

We left the alleyway alcove behind us, the two of us, I was sure, glad to leave behind that display-the bodies, the screaming-the misery. At least, I know I was. I felt no apathy towards them to be sure. As a matter of fact, I wanted to do everything I could for them, but I knew the cost of war, and knew that many of those in that alcove were lost causes. That didn't mean they should be dumped into a whole and left to rot, but it did mean that the number of those that resources were wasted on for them to die anyway would outnumber those who made it at the end of the day.

I felt heartless just for thinking that. I'd seen the military hospital back at the Dragon's encampment outside the walls of Ba Sing Se. I'd seen how many men were left mangled, half-dead, dying after that failed attack that had all been the fault of that damned glory-hound Zahckrael. Never much liked hospitals after that to be sure. Maybe on small part because they'd tried to cut off my right arm, but that was a whole life ago. There was no point in still worrying about it now. That had been a whole life ago.

I could feel Zare's eyes shifting to me from time to time. At first, I thought it might have just been her checking to see if I was still beside her, then perhaps something else the second time. On the third time, I manage to catch what she was looking at-the sword sheathed to my side, poking out from beneath my coat. I suppose it was a rather key factor in investigating on somebody who you were travelling with, knowing exactly what they were capable of. I managed to catch her sight as she was looking towards me that last time. I wasn't sure if I had expected her to turn away blushing the way that Danev had always used to describe the girls doing whenever he'd looked their way. Then again, he'd been an attractive man. That, or he had just been full of shit. Rather than doing that, however, Zare met my sight, almost in a daring fashion, soon after asking, with something of a smug yet curious look about her, "So. A volunteer, huh? Don't often see many volunteers to our prestigious institution geared up the way you are. Who exactly are you?"

Her eyes had drifted over to the Fire Nation breastplate exposed where my coat parted in the middle, black and red painted steel a very clear indicator of the armor's origin. I prayed her next question wouldn't be directed towards that. I took the opportunity before answering to also get a measure of her. She wore rather plain attire, bearing a lightweight coat, one similar to mine, parting at the center, that seemed to fit her a small bit too large, the sleeves only needing to be rolled up ever so slightly to allow her hands to poke out. She wasn't small by any means, and I figured that the coat would also have been a small bit too large on me as well, but opted not to think about that, seizing whatever opportunity I could to allow myself to be bigger in stature than somebody else, myself standing a glorious, by my estimate, entire inch over her. While it wasn't much, it was the most I could hope for nowadays. I wasn't able to make out any weapons on her figure, but figured such was the intent behind the coat. Likely a dagger at most. Nothing too concerning. "And how often, pray tell, do you get volunteers to this "prestigious organization" I asked, mimicking the same half-mocking way in which she'd referred to her own organization.

"Often enough. Some are just drifters wanting to tag along with us until the next populated town we get to," she placed emphasis on the word 'populated' drawing some grim irony to the reality around us. "Sometimes we'll also get mercs who, though we don't pay them, will help themselves to the belongings of the fallen."

"Nuns are fine with that?"

"The nuns don't believe in possessions," she scoffed. "Very good reason you won't see those robes on me."

"And here I thought it was because the colors would clash."

She chuckled. It felt nice having somebody else to laugh at my jokes once in a while. I could get used to this. "Others will just join out of goodwill like that gentle giant, Gehor. He was already around before I was, but apparently had been protecting the sisters here for quite a while. So you never said who you are. Certainly seemed pretty capable back there with that guy we were treating."

"Well, a volunteer obviously."

"Woah, no way!" she whisper-yelled, feigning shock.

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress the small smile on my face. "Let's just say I'm with a small group and we're going around seeing what we can do to lend a hand."

"Then you chose quite an interesting time to visit the Nip Sea. Hear there's a war going on."

"Yeahhhhh, may have taken a step or two too close for comfort."

"Suppose that explains the sword and Fire Nation armor." Figured she'd notice.

"Can't afford not to be unarmed back here."

I wasn't sure if she took the bait, or had merely decided for herself that it was safe enough to show me as she pulled up her coat, revealing a rather large dagger, or perhaps an extremely small rapier, tucked beneath her belt at her side. I wanted to think it had been me successfully goading her into revealing her armaments, but the smarter part of me figured it was at her own discretion to decide just what to show me. "Won't disagree with you there."

By this point, we had already worked our way beyond the city center, now headed towards the southern end of town where it was becoming slowly more apparent that no relief aid had made it this far. The fires were far more fresh, many still burning, the bodies likewise scattered around, birds and rodents alike still feasting on the remains, feeling as we approached down the main road.

The stench was awful. My nose twitched, myself wanting to pull my shirt up to cover my nose, but resisted the temptation, wanting to keep myself completely focused on searching for survivors, wherever they may be.

We passed along the buildings, having truly stepped into a ghost town, nothing left breathing. Many of the buildings were completely destroyed, caved in, or simply piles of ash.

We went quiet for a while, ourselves going down the streets, checking alleys, intact buildings, whatever few there were, just anything for a sign of life. Nothing.

"How long did you say you've been in the Nip?" Zare asked quietly after a small while as we continued to conduct our search to no avail.

"I didn't," I said, only realizing after I said it like an idiot that it was just a way of asking. I tried putting the dates together in my mind, thinking of when we'd ran the Fire Nation blockade. It was getting harder and harder to remember. Winter had already passed if I remembered properly. Everything with Jianghe was early Spring, and it was not early Summer. "Around 2-3 months, I'd say?" Damn. Just that? It'd felt longer than that to be honest.

"Then I take it sights like these are no stranger to you?"

They were in Jianghe. At least for us. The Separatists were in the North, in thoroughly controlled Fire Nation territory, the Fire Navy having a tight enough grasp on the sea to have prevented an Earth Kingdom advance into their territory, keeping they controlled territory safe from any such atrocities such as these, but no, sights like these were no stranger to me. "You'd be correct then," I answered. There was no prideful smile in realizing she'd been right this time around, herself only maintaining a grim look on her face when surrounded by circumstances such as these. "I take it this isn't your first either?"

She shook her head. "May as well be. Still feel like puking every time. Was the Earth Kingdom fortress before this, Louziwan. Didn't feel so bad there. Mostly soldiers. Was the temple before that though, Wawuwan. Just pilgrims and priest, all dead."

"Damn." It was all I could think to say. All that really came to mind in light of something like this. Perhaps, to a good degree, some of what rendered me speechless as well was shame in knowing that it was my country responsible for these actions. It was hard to think of anything to say when I was still too busy working down the guilt, and, to some degree, trying to rationalize it, but as I looked at the mangled bodies and burned homes around me, no rationalization could come to mind.

"Who the hell could have done this?" It was a legitimate question. We all knew the Fire Nation, but who? I wanted to know the unit, the army, the commander, but upon asking that question, realizing who I was talking to, somebody who'd have no idea of anything like that, I realized it was a fool's errand, until, however, she came back with a clear and distinct answer.

"The Rough Rhinos."

I'd heard the name before. Hell, at this rate, who hadn't? The freelancer mercenary band on a continual contract with the Fire Nation, taking the jobs that were too bloody and dirty for the military to do themselves. Their names had been attached to multiple other incidents before as well, the first to come to mind-the destruction of Jet's hometown, and the destruction of the homes of so many other Separatists as well. It seemed that wherever the Rhinos passed, they left fire and ruin in their wake, and a shared fear and hatred for everything they stood for, standing only to watch the world burn, and make a profit while doing so.

I nodded my head, enough on my end to show comprehension as she continued with just what I'd been thinking, "Doing the jobs that even the Fire Nation would rather not attach their names to."

"Bit too late for that, no?"

"Bit too late for any one side. War's been going on for, what, 96 years now? Rate it's going at, no side of this continent won't be hit by the time the war ends."

"If it does end." We had turned down another road, one seeming even far more dark and dismal than the last, bodies stacking atop one another, an all-new scene painting itself in front of me-civilians fleeing from one of their rhinos, trying to escape the streetway, only to be met with a rhino at the other end, trapped, pressed against one another, slaughtered en masse. Fucking savages.

I don't think either of us really knew how to continue the conversation past that point. It may have been for the better, searching for the living among scores of dead being the least desirable setting for making conversation. The minutes drew on, and the minutes soon became an hour.

"Think anybody's still alive?" She ended up asking at some point.

I shrugged, staying silent myself for a small while until also saying, wondering, "Feels like the south side got hit all the harder."

"Probably entered through here. Took their sweet time before going to the center. Animals."

"How'd they get in though? City has walls. The Rough Rhinos aren't exactly quiet. And where the hell is the city garrison? I don't see any military bodies here."

Her face had now taken a scrunched-up look to it, as though she were thinking, looking around, realizing the validity in what I was saying. "Might have just busted the gate down," she said, herself not believing it, but seeming more to be playing Vatu's advocate. "Garrison might have been posted somewhere more tactically advantageous?"

"This province was one of the few entry points into the valley between the swamp and the mountains to the East."

She was nodding, herself having thought of that too. "Think they had inside help? Rhinos paid off the garrison?"

"It's a possibility, but they're Earth Kingdom soldiers. Would they just leave their posts to the Fire Nation that easily?" Now it was time for me to make the argument I already knew the answer to.

"Earth Kingdom doesn't mean shit out here," Zare responded. "Garrison's are militias, civilians with spears, some leather armor, and access to the city gates. If they believe the city's going to be lost anyway, and there given the chance to leave with their families with some coin on top of that, who wouldn't take that chance."

"Doubt they'd make it long before the Rhinos decided they didn't like the idea of leaving witnesses. Were probably cut down too. They wouldn't had to know it was a fool's bargain making a deal with the Rough Rhinos."

"They probably did know, but notwithstanding, it was deal with them, or fight, one of them a deathwish beyond all shadow of a doubt, so they took the other. Unless-"

"Unless they weren't militia? Maybe mercenaries paid to enter the city and open the gates?"

"Mercenaries hiring mercenaries," Zare said through a grim scoff. "Not unlikely. Nations do it during sieges. I see no reason why the Rhinos wouldn't do it for a raid."

"All the same. They see gold at the end of the road and have no trouble paving it with as much blood as-"

Zare raised a hand, interrupting me, prompting me to go silent immediately. My heart jumped. Were they still here? Just lurking in the rubble waiting for a rescue team? I listened. No. It wasn't that. It was coughing, coming from our right.

Zare and I nodded to one another. We both heard it, heading off immediately in that direction, swerving through alleyways and so many other signs of that slaughter that had transpired here, eventually coming across the rubble of a collapsed burning building, and beneath it, just barely exposed to outside air, a young woman, only her upper body exposed, herself still struggling for air.

"Help me," she weakly let out.

Zare and I both immediately rushed to her side, Zare sliding down onto the ground, immediately supporting the woman's upper body, reaching beneath her coat for a canteen of water that she immediately raised to the woman's lips. "Hey there," she said, softening her voice. "I'm Zare and that's Luke. We're going to get you out of here, alright? You're safe now."

My eyes were fixed on the rubble. There was a good amount of it, but luckily, she was located near the edge. There was a small fire burning in the rubble, spreading, but quite slowly. We'd have time. I followed the logical pattern of rubble upwards, finding what lay near the top, and moving it aside as Zare continued to whisper sweet nothings to the woman, getting her to calm down. It was working as she wasn't nearly making as much noise as she was before, her breathing evening, no longer struggling for air as she had before.

I began removing the rubble, layer by layer, able to notice that the pressure being placed on the woman was slowly decreasing. "Alright," I said. "We should have more room now. Try giving her a small pull?"

Zare nodded, placing her arms beneath the woman's shoulders, clasping on tight, and giving a hefty pull away from the rubble. I could feel the edge of the building's ruins shift as Zare made progress in hauling the woman out, pieces of her old home falling out of place around her, progress being made until, suddenly, all progress ceased, Zare fell backwards, and the woman screamed. It was a horrifying, blood-colling scream, bile building up in her throat, prompting Zare to immediately return back to the woman's side, offering her a swig of her water once again as I returned to the rubble pile.

The fire was still burning, growing in fact as of now. The shifting of the building had likely fed more tinder and kindling to the growing flame. Shit. "We're on a short time frame now," I said, more to myself than anyone else.

"I got her here. Just get her leg free. It's all that's left."

I nodded, seeing that it was indeed the woman's right leg that was all that was still trapped beneath the debris. I moved the rubble aside, tossing away wood from the walls, stone from the chimney, some rudimentary tiles from the roof, all of it, digging deeper and deeper with greater haste as the flame grew. I reached an arm out to control the flame, stopping myself from doing so the moment that my hand had even left the rubble pile, realizing just how stupid that would be in front of others, instead, trying to intensely focus on the flames, trying to calm it the same way I had been able to put out the smaller embers in the city just by looking at them. The same effect was not proving to come into fruition now, myself unsure if it was because it was a more difficult task, I wasn't focused enough, or I was too anxious. I was scared. I remembered Jeong Jeong in that moment. Fire feeds off of emotions. Fear, anger, hate, these are the emotions firebenders choose to use, but these emotions are fragile, weak, they cannot be relied upon. His words never spoke more true than they did right now, myself unable to cool the flames as they approached, instead working desperately to remove the rubble, nearing her leg, until I saw the issue at hand. Directly going through her leg at the shin was a lead pipe, likely belonging to a gas stove, nailing her to the ground.

"She's being nailed down by a pipe!" I called out to Zare, not letting myself be distracted in trying to ease the woman's mind. There were more pressing matters at hand.

"What?!"

"I can't get her out!"

"Can you cut through it?"

I considered as much, reaching for the sword at my side, unsheathing it, testing its blade. No. It'd never go through. "Won't go through!"

The flames were approaching, growing in strength, size, and speed. She didn't have much time.

"Well we can't leave her!"

The flames were almost to her. We didn't have much choice. I left the rubble, getting on a knee at the woman's side, shaking off my coat, and undoing the belt around my waist. Zare saw what I was doing quickly enough, and nodded, already straightening the woman's leg. "Wait. What are you doing?!" the woman called. "You're supposed to get my leg out! What are you doing!"

"I'm sorry," Zare said. "It's the only way.

"No no no! You can't do this!"

I already had the belt fastened above her knee, tightening it to ensure as much blood flow would be cut off as possible. The woman knew what we were doing, and her screams would not let up, growing viler and more animalistic as she saw the inevitable approaching.

"Gag her," Zare said. "She'll bite her own tongue off from the pain.

I nodded, working past the initial guilt, knowing this to be the only way, pulling out a rag from my pocket and stuffing it into the woman's mouth, her screams becoming muffled. Zare and I both looked towards the approaching flame. "Now or never" she said, giving the belt one last pull to ensure it was as tight as could be, promptly moving beside the woman's head, holding it in place to ensure she didn't lash it back and hit it against the rocks beneath her.

I brought the blade out to just below the belt, right above the knee, placing the cold steel against her skin, a muffled scream emerging from the woman's gagged mouth. Zare gave me a nod, eyes narrowed in determination so as to reassure me that this was the only way, something that, in that moment, I needed. I brought the blade up, bringing it down again with the blade, getting a sense of exactly where to cut. I raised the blade one final time, and in one swift motion, brought it down.

I heard the steel clang against the rock beneath her leg before I had even heard the fleshy slice through her leg and the grotesque snapping of her bone. It felt as though a tense rope had been cut, slack now returning as her lower leg simply detached as though magnets of like forces were repelling one another. Blood. A lot of it, the new stump still bleeding, albeit less than it would have been without the tourniquet. Zare was already dragging the body back away from the burning pile of rubble the moment the limb had been severed. The screaming had stopped, herself having passed out from the blood loss, or perhaps in making the mistake of looking down.

The woman was on her back, heavy eyelids covering her sleeping eyes, face towards the sky, head between Zare's legs where she'd fallen back on her hands to support herself. I was trying not to look at the loose leg now being consumed by the flames but found I couldn't help myself in having my eyes drawn towards it, and, with it, the stump of the unconscious woman next to us.

I had risen back up to my feet, standing above the two of them, shortsword still dripping fresh blood, additional blood splattered against my arms and chest, now mixing with that of the man from earlier. I let myself catch my breath as I looked at the sight, watching the pile burning once again, destined to have consumed the woman had she been there a minute longer. We came in time for her. How many others did we not come in time for? How many did we just narrowly miss?

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts, wiping the bloodied blade against my pant leg, rubbing it dry as much as I could in that moment before returning the weapon to its sheath.

"Think we should cauterize?" Zare asked between breaths.

I looked at the stump. The bleeding had stopped for the most part. At the very least, if the woman died, it wouldn't be from blood loss. I shook my head. "No. Bleeding has mostly stopped. Cauterizing might be too risky. Good chance of infection. Zare nodded, looking back on the unconscious woman, removing the cloth gag from her mouth, seeking to restore the amputation victim's dignity to some small degree.

"I'd hate to be her right now," Zare said.

"Same here. I happen to like my limbs." My attempt at humor shrouding just how close I'd come to having my own limb amputated before, and what I went through to try and avoid it, nearly killing myself in the process.

Zare nodded, looking back deeper into the south end of the city. "How many more are out there?"

I went to her side, settling down on a knee as well as I looked into the distance where fires still burned, and with them likely hundreds more bodies still lay scattered across the streets.

"Don't know," I responded. "Maybe none. Maybe hundreds."

"Then we're not done."

"No," I agreed. "Not yet."

She turned back to the woman whose head rested between her legs, saying, "We'll get her back first. Make sure she gets the care she needs. Then-"

"Then we get back out there."

Her head turned towards me for a small moment, the vaguest smile rising to her face. "You know?"

"Hmm?"

"You remind me of someone."

"And who would that be?"

She let out a small and brief chuckle, cutting herself off, shaking her head. "Nobody. Never mind." She hadn't meant it in an attempt to convince me it really was 'nobody' simply dismissing it as a point of conversation for now. I wouldn't push, I figured, but couldn't help but find myself the least bit intrigued. "Let's just say," she continued, "You're just the type these nuns would love."

Zare, my friend. you have absolutely no idea what the hell you're talking about. "If you say so," I scoffed, rising to my feet, offering her a hand to stand as well, which she did indeed take, rising up to my side, letting go once she had her bearings once again.

I bent back down, picking up the woman and hauling her over my shoulder. She was light. Perhaps such was the consequence of having a dozen or so pounds swiftly removed in the near blink of an eye.

"Well then," Zare said, brushing off her clothes, looking in the direction of the north of the city, towards the alley alcove. "Looks like it's going to be quite the interesting day then," she said, shooting a small half-smile behind herself towards me.

That it would be. Finding myself landlocked amidst so many strangers, people from all across the Earth Kingdom who I knew nothing about, I'd been expecting to find myself feeling like an imposter among them, standing out like a sore thumb. Being separated from Zek and the others, I'd expected that to have become far more obvious, myself then alone, stranded in a sea of all these people, but now, with Zare, it felt different, to some strange degree. It almost felt as though there were something strangely familiar about her, as though there was some underlying sense of similarity that I couldn't put my finger on. I had no idea if the feeling was something that I alone was feeling, or if it perhaps was something she'd sensed as well. Probably not. I'm only being paranoid.

"Then I guess we better get started," I returned the smile, pushing the earlier thought aside. Despite her back being to me, her head still faced me with its right side, the small glisten of the sun reflecting off of her green eye before turning back around to face the north of the city, the odd feeling of familiarity never quite going away. An interesting day indeed.