The cave was dark, and silent save for the sharp pitter-patter of rain, occasionally punctuated by bursts of thunder and lightning. Alone and injured, one soldier lay in a heap just inside the entrance, too weak to crawl any further. Mismatched gold eyes stared into the darkness, fighting hard against the urge to give in to fatigue.
It wasn't until he felt cold hands scraping back the hair from his face that he began to give in, letting himself fall into the dream his mind was already conjuring. He wondered briefly if this was the part where the young Fire Lord dies alone in a cave on a seemingly uninhabited island in the middle of a civil war that he had started.
A/N - Hello, and welcome! Thank you, for reading. For starters, this story is taking place roughly six years after the end of the war, but I will not be following the cartoon cannon of what happened post-animation.