Under Attack/Child of Two Worlds
6
The captured ship's projectile soared and smashed into the tower of another of the ships that intended to respond to their attack: screams tore through the night as debris fell from the tower that no longer stood steadily at the center of the ship. Slowly, the tower crumbled as soldiers scurried out to the deck. Fire licked the metal, threatening to turn the vessel into a furnace above water.
The rows of the Fire Nation fleet focused on this new threat now… and so, the sky bison had a perfect chance to reach the most distant edge of one of the cliffs: neither Katara nor Aang hesitated to begin extending the ice, creating a barrier just as Sokka had asked them to. After the weeks spent crafting walls repeatedly, both found the process far faster now that their muscles were accustomed to the motions. However tired they might be, however distressed they were over the chaos brewing between the ships that fought fiercely, they only continued to work powerfully, helping each other raise a sturdy, though so far short wall, that they would build up to taller heights once the foundations had been established.
By the shore, the group of soldiers who had successfully escaped the sinking ships stumbled and struggled on their way to climb the shattered chunks of ice. They ran at haste towards stability, some helping their comrades, others simply leaving them to fend for themselves while seeking their own safety…
A safety that was immediately threatened by a thunderous roar of voices: a fearsome group of warriors, prepared to defend their shores, were charging fiercely at them.
Unstable ice and freezing waters down below, or a barrage of Water Tribe warriors up on the cliff, armed with deadly weapons aimed at them: the soldiers couldn't possibly escape from both.
"Form up! Form up!" screamed a sergeant, hoping to rally his available troops… but few listened.
Ten weakened soldiers, at best, would fight back against the tide of warriors poised to run them down, rushing them as a storm might: the outcome, the soldiers knew, would not favor them.
There was little time to ponder how their attempts to win this battle, to seize control of an apparently harmless village and kill a single man, had gone so poorly. Perhaps they had underestimated the Water Tribe… but the Fire Nation had never faced resistance as fierce and effective in this pole as the one they saw right now.
The soldiers shouted cries of war as they leapt forward, conjuring bursts of fire that would abate the rushing warriors… but their flames, already weakened by the temperatures, vanished in the air, extinguished long before it was natural, instants before they touched the warriors.
They didn't stand a chance. The spears and knives sank through flesh, and war cries shifted into pained, mournful screams.
The remaining soldiers attempted to fight back, though some fell down the slope of slippery, chaotic ice and screamed again: they would find their end by crashing into the ice, or by sinking in the water. Those who managed to remain on land, struggling still to rise to their feet, were either threatened into submission or instantly slain. The kindness, the warmth, the familial community of the Water Tribe couldn't be underestimated: they stopped at nothing to defend their own, offering mercy solely to the very few who genuinely surrendered, on their knees, threatened underneath the spearheads aimed right between their eyes.
Nanuk shoved some of the struggling soldiers back down, kicking at the ice and snow to shatter the cliff further. The ones who noticed the danger in climbing the crumbling cliff now retreated, and he snarled before drawing his boomerang. Several warriors joined him instants after he threw his weapon, striking a firebender's arm – not a lethal wound, but bad enough to limit the enemy's ability to fight back. His fellow warriors continued fighting as he caught his boomerang anew: before long, all the fleeing soldiers had been defeated as well.
Movement further down the cliff drew Zuko's eye: some of the soldiers from the second skiff had taken to climbing over a more dangerous trek of crumbling ice, one with ridges that kept them hidden from the Water Tribe's forces at first. Zuko dashed in that direction after tapping the shoulder of a nearby warrior, alerting him of the danger.
"For the Fire Lord!" yelled one soldier: the ornate armor revealed he was, in all likelihood, the leader of one of the squads assigned to each ship.
With his shout came a powerful burst of firebending: two more men joined him, adding their strength into a fireball, far stronger than those of the previous soldiers. They understood the South Pole would weaken them, and they sought to undo the environmental advantage of their foes by working together…
They were unaware that there was one firebender who had developed strength and skill beyond his own understanding while living in the frigid winters of the Southern Water Tribe. That very firebender charged towards that unexpectedly powerful fire blast and answered it by taking a bending stance, supporting his weight on his hands and spinning quickly, legs outstretched, conjuring a large ring of fire that he launched directly at the soldiers' attack.
Three men, joining forces, should have overwhelmed a single one… but the power packed by Zuko's evoked flames, the momentum of his strong kata, ensured that the fire blast would dissipate when it clashed with his fire, which he strengthened further so he could strike the three firebenders who couldn't give their eyes any credit.
They screamed when the onslaught of fire reached them, knocking them right back down the icy slope. Three more survivors who had climbed slightly behind them, non-benders, watched in chagrin and astonishment: there was a firebender helping the Water Tribe. The man with the long black hair wouldn't have stood out among the rest, clad in the same clothes as the others, if it weren't for the fire he had evoked moments ago.
He rose back to his feet, immediately reaching for his swords as the rest of the warriors stood behind him, ready to swarm the last three soldiers. Zuko's golden glare pierced the men standing before him as he spoke, spitefully:
"Fuck the Fire Lord," he spoke, and never had he expected that rejecting his origins, the father he had grown to despise, would infuse him with such energy and strength, emboldening him into fighting without holding anything back.
The warriors behind him roared and he joined them in doing so, clenching his swords tightly, chin raised to face the enemies ahead…
The pale light that drifted from the flaming ships below, the sparse brightness in such a dark night, allowed the soldiers to gape, jaws dropped, as the scar across the firebender's face revealed that their Exiled Prince no longer fought for the man who had burned his flesh so long ago.
That quick revelation was followed by death: only one of the soldiers could injure one Water Tribesman with a spear, stabbing his shoulder, before succumbing to a tribal spear that cut sharply into his stomach.
"Yungak!" called Nanuk, rushing from the edge of the cliff towards the injured warrior.
Zuko gritted his teeth as he glanced at the hurt warrior: the spear hadn't cut too deeply, but it certainly would take the warrior out of combat all the same. Considering their side had successfully taken down about thirty surviving soldiers already, a single injury appeared a small price to pay… but Zuko inevitably wondered just how many more warriors would take dangerous injuries. Had those aboard the ship been hurt at all…? He certainly hoped not, but they'd have to be prepared for anything…
Though, if they were injured, it stood to reason that they'd need help. Zuko's eyes drifted towards the skiffs the Fire Nation soldiers had escaped through moments ago, glaring at them intently as the warriors organized themselves – two men would carry Yungak back to the settlement at haste while the others waited to determine their next step forward, now that they had joined the battle…
"We can take the skiffs," Zuko suggested, glancing at Nanuk meaningfully. The warrior frowned sternly. "I… I know I wasn't much of a sailor back when I got here, but we can assist Sokka and Hakoda's group if we do this. I know they wanted us to stay back…"
"But they're charging like madmen at the rest of the fleet, eh?" said Nanuk, grimacing. "They'll have a better shot if they have some help, at least. Alright, some of us can take those skiffs and try to offer whatever relief we can, maybe collect the wounded or the whole lot of them, if things get out of hand…"
"Everyone else should go back to the settlement," Zuko said, gazing at the nearby warriors. "Keep an eye out for any other incursions like this one, maybe other survivors on skiffs will try to climb up this way."
"No problem. We'll keep them at bay," said the nearest warrior, nodding as the group split up, yet again.
Climbing down to the skiffs would prove dangerous – not in vain had the drop been lethal for most soldiers who had fallen back on the ice. Still, they had a chance to scout the wrecked cliffs carefully and, if nothing else worked, they could climb their way down to the water's level through Aang and Katara's walls, namely those that hadn't been breached by any ships just yet.
More skiffs sailed in the waters, but no longer did they attempt to make land at the crumbled shores: most seemed to seek the chance to board other ships safely, clinging to any chance of survival now that the chaotic battle appeared to have been turned against them. Even now, the Fire Nation had to outnumber the local forces vastly… but somehow, that single vessel, charging at the fleet, had taken advantage of the turbulent beginning of the battle and shifted the momentum, the tides of victory, in favor of the Water Tribe.
"Help! Let us board!" a group aboard a skiff called out to a still-undamaged ship of the Fire Nation fleet. Within moments, the crew tossed a long ladder that unfolded to where the skiffs floated in the water.
The soldiers on the skiff wasted no time climbing aboard: those on the ship's upper deck only waited to ensure they were climbing safely before shifting their attention to the dangerous battle waged between the rogue battleship, still delivering damage at the fleet while the remaining, functioning ships sought to attack the vessel too: so far, a few of the rocks cast by the Fire Nation forces had struck the hi-jacked ship, but they hadn't delivered enough damage to put a permanent stop to its progress just yet.
"Aim!" the soldier in charge aboard the newly boarded ship yelled at the men manning their catapult: the rogue ship had drifted past them already, and they had no choice but to spin the siege weapon on its axis to attempt to hit the enemy.
Three, four, then five soldiers from the skiff had climbed aboard by then.
The soldier closest to ladder lost his bearings when he found himself flung overboard.
More people climbed the ladder, jumping on deck: five more men… wearing the blue clothes of the Water Tribe rather than the armor worn by the first five.
The soldiers aboard this new ship hardly had time to identify the threat, to make sense of the situation, before they were attacked by the warriors, both the ones who had masqueraded as soldiers – wearing the armor they'd taken off the corpses on the rogue ship – and those who hadn't bothered covering up their true allegiances at all. It was entirely possible that this trick wouldn't work anymore after using it the first time… but if the Fire Nation ships realized their emergency ships could be turned against them, and that they could be swarmed by enemies disguised as allies, they might just refuse to aid their actual comrades on skiffs, out of fear of thinking they could be foes in disguise.
The warriors roared fiercely as they attacked the surprised soldiers: some tried to fight back and were swiftly cut down. Others attempted to flee into the tower to seek reinforcements that would swarm the deck soon. The ones manning the catapult were startled out of their jobs, immediately raising their fists to defend themselves with firebending. However strong they might be, they were unprepared for the sudden attack and easily knocked out cold with a punch, reduced with a swift stab of a knife or spear, or their limbs or ribs would crack under the weight of a powerful club.
Capturing the ship this time, however, would prove far more challenging: without Sokka's sword that cut down any dangerous foe, or his expertise to slip through each soldier's defenses, wearing down the rush of soldiers that would soon swarm the deck was easier said than done.
"We can't capture this one!" shouted Kattuk, one of the warriors in the group.
His fellow tribesmen seemed to understand, though they appeared helpless in the face of what to do at this point: they had successfully ensured one less ship would attack the one the main group had hijacked, but if there were more soldiers aboard this vessel, the likelihood was that they'd organize themselves far better now that they knew they had been boarded…
"The catapult!" suggested another warrior, moving towards it warily.
Just then, another projectile launched by Sokka, Kattan and Haka struck the tower of a ship beyond theirs. The warriors watched in amazement… and that amazement soon translated into action, as four of them rushed to work the second hijacked ship's catapult, spinning it around fully on its axis… and aiming the already loaded and flaming projectile towards their own ship's tower just as the soldiers started marching out of it, intent on chasing out the invaders.
"Run!" shouted Kattuk, ushering the other warriors to return to the ladder before he struck the trigger with all his might.
The projectile struck the tower even more violently than those tossed by Sokka's group: the sound of the shattering foundations of the tower shook everyone aboard, and Kattuk struggled to brace himself against the burning debris in the wake of his dangerous attack.
The soldiers screamed again: it was yet another bad blow they couldn't have prepared for. The tower toppled over, falling on the chimneys of the ship, and by then, the warriors who remained on deck had no choice but to leap overboard, into the freezing water.
That a ship would shatter and collapse over a projectile, without his direct involvement in its destruction, took Sokka by surprise: he spared it a glance briefly, guessing quickly that the group that had broken off from their team had been responsible for that. Four skiffs stood not far from the burning ship, but from his current position, it was hard to figure out what their condition was.
He turned again quickly, though: Haka and Kattan had loaded one of their last four rocks on the catapult, and he was quick to direct their aim towards one of the few ships that still appeared to have sustained no damage.
"The more we wear them down, the easier it will be to defeat them eventually…" Sokka said to himself, scanning the landscape of flaming, sinking ships all around them. It was chaos… but it was chaos of their making, on their terms. As long as the Water Tribe continued to hold the initiative, victory wouldn't be beyond their grasp. So, he drew in a deep breath and exclaimed: "Fire!"
The flaming rock, once more lit by the lantern's fire, flew across the air, striking the top of the tower, rather than anywhere near the base. Sokka snarled: they were moving too fast, his calculations had been off because of that, he guessed… but it had been damage, nonetheless. Another round might just…
"Oh, shit!"
Kattan and Haka's voices broke through Sokka's insidious planning: a flaming rock flew towards them… aimed perfectly at their catapult.
Without thinking twice of it, Sokka reached out to grasp the two men by the hoods of their parkas and he flung them towards the tower. He leapt in that direction mere instants before the rock shattered the catapult they had been using so far… marking a small victory for the Fire Nation.
"Damn it…" Haka shuddered, watching as the fire spread over the rocks they had been saving still: the oil, now scattered across the deck, made it dangerous to remain on the ship as it slowly caught fire.
Sokka only took one glance at it to know they had to disembark at haste. But how? Where to? He grimaced as he studied the nearest ships: they weren't close enough, and they didn't have the skiffs anymore, as the others had taken them. Perhaps they could leap on what remained of Aang and Katara's walls and wait for the skiffs to collect them there…? Or, perhaps, the skiffs they'd captured could come to their aid.
Either way, they needed to get out of this ship, immediately.
"Try to signal the skiffs!" Sokka shouted, yanking the two younger men up to their feet. "Get them to come here, see if they can get us off this ship safely!"
"Right!" Haka gritted his teeth: as shaken as he'd been, he'd follow Sokka's orders at once. He had no intentions of failing his Tribe today.
"I'll go get the others," Sokka said, slowing by the ship's tower's entrance. "I'll be back soon!"
"Be quick about it!" Kattan advised him, his anguished blue eyes gleaming under the flames that burned by the ship's prow.
Sokka nodded quickly before rushing into the tower: his father would be at the bridge, and he surely would have seen what had happened to the catapult…
Almost on cue, Sokka's race in the tower was interrupted by Hakoda's sudden appearance: he stepped out of the bridge, followed by his fellow warriors, and called his son's name.
"Sokka! You're alright! Are Haka and Kattan…?"
"They're trying to get the attention of the skiffs!" Sokka explained, grimacing. "They're fine, but we need to get out of here, now. Our only weapon is gone, and…"
"They're going to sink us," grimaced another warrior, glancing at Hakoda warily. Sokka nodded.
"We'll try to abandon ship before it comes to that," he said, gesturing with his head towards the tower's exit. "I'll go get the group down at the boiler room, you guys can…"
"No, I'll do that," Hakoda said, shaking his head. "Stay up here and organize the escape now, Sokka."
Sokka gritted his teeth, an unpleasant rush of familiar dread rearing its head inside him. It wasn't the best of times to recall the chaotic battle against Rhone and his people… but Hakoda's willingness to jump into danger, sending Sokka to other tasks, reminded him far too starkly of Azula's choices that day.
Still… arguing would waste vital time they needed to escape. His father would be more likely to succeed if he let him deal with this dangerous task without hindering him.
"Bring the Fire Nation ones, too," was all Sokka dared say, raising a hand to clasp his father's arm. "If they fight back, I guess… I guess you'll have to kill them. But if they choose to surrender and survive, we'll bring them along."
Hakoda nodded and sprung downstairs without another word. Sokka grimaced but urged the rest of the warriors to head outside: Haka and Kattan had managed to communicate with a skiff, urging it to come their way, though a rock had nearly struck it as it sailed towards the rogue vessel.
"A ladder…?" Haka was saying: he raised his head and glanced about himself warily before spotting Sokka by the tower's threshold. "They say the other ships had a ladder! We can climb off that way!"
Sokka snarled: he had no idea where he'd find such a thing. The warriors scrambled searching for it on deck, but Sokka returned inside, hoping to spot something in any of the nearest rooms, perhaps a storage, perhaps even the now abandoned bridge… after tossing every door open, Sokka finally found a good enough ladder in a closet within the large control room. He collected it immediately and rushed outside, feeling far slower than he actually was.
His men were immediately relieved to see the rope ladder in his possession: Sokka wasted no time attaching the ladder to the railing of the ship's stern before tossing the other end of it towards the nearest skiff, for a second one had showed up by then.
"Go, quickly!" Sokka ordered the rest of the warriors: he glanced back at the tower anxiously, trembling with dread and anticipation…
Shadows shifted inside it, and three warriors rushed out, dragging a group of terrified Fire Nation engineers and workers, as well as a single soldier. The rest of the warriors followed, constantly threatening the Fire Nation prisoners with their weapons. Yuro nodded at Sokka upon glimpsing him, and Sokka urged him to approach: Haka and Kattan had already climbed down to the nearest skiff, and a few more warriors were following their lead.
"Where's my dad?" Sokka asked Yuro, as soon as he was close enough to unequivocally hear the question.
"He… he said he had an idea," Yuro grimaced. "He went into the bridge, but he said he'd be quick about… ah!"
Yuro nearly fell over, same as most the warriors, when the ship suddenly accelerated, with no warning. The warriors dangling on the ladder screamed, and Sokka glanced back at the tower with utmost perplexity: had his father chosen to amp up the speed of their ship instead of stopping it?
However startling it had been, Sokka realized it wasn't a bad idea… though it was a risky one. If it worked, their ship might just ram into a few enemy vessels, taking them out and once more crippling the Fire Nation's forces… but if it didn't work, if the skiffs couldn't pick them up before the crash, there was a chance many of them would take injuries, perhaps even die, as a result of this maneuver.
"Damn… Go, quickly!" Sokka shouted down at the ladder: the warriors climbing down didn't let go until the skiff sped up and got close enough for them to land on the limited space of its deck. Still, jumping on the skiffs while both vessels were in motion seemed a rather dangerous gamble to make.
The skiffs continued to follow the ship persistently, and the warriors struggled to climb down to each of them. A few warriors forced the Fire Nation men to climb down first, refusing to trust them not to attack Sokka or Hakoda if all Water Tribe men climbed off first…
Hakoda finally emerged from the tower, and Sokka gestured at him to hurry. His father offered him a guilty grin as he rushed towards the stern: only ten men remained on deck now, the others either safely on the skiffs or dangling off the long ladder.
"I know it might not have been the best idea, but…!" Hakoda started, but as much as Sokka wanted to retort already, a whistling sound jerked his attention away from his father.
A flaming payload flew straight towards their ship's tower.
"LOOK OUT!" Sokka roared, impulsively moving towards Hakoda… only to be yanked back by the arms of another warrior.
The rock slammed into the base of the tower when Hakoda had barely taken two steps past its threshold.
Hakoda was flung through the air, and Sokka screamed, a hand reaching out to his father, mere instants before the tower's foundations creaked, threatening to collapse where Hakoda had landed.
The arms restraining Sokka let go of him: the Gladiator jumped forward, unconcerned about preserving his own life if it meant sacrificing his father's.
His feet glided across the metal at an unnaturally fast pace, and his arms wrapped around Hakoda so strongly it was as though his father were weightless. In the blink of an eye, Sokka turned to his right, leaping powerfully between the chimneys of their captured ship…
The tower broke off its foundations entirely, collapsing when only five more men remained on deck.
There was no time to scream, to find out what had happened: fire burst all around the deck by then, and the desperate warriors leapt down the ladder, as good as climbing together in hopes of reaching safety before the rope ladder burned. One of them leapt into the water, careless about the freezing temperatures, knowing he would have no chance to climb the ladder with the others, at that rate…
Fire spread and strengthened, and the warriors did their best to reach safety… but their two leaders were nowhere to be found. The flaming ship, with all the damage it had taken, continued to power onwards, forward…
"Sokka! Hakoda!" Haka shouted, desperate: the last man on the ladder had climbed the skiff's deck by then, and there was no sight of the father and son just yet.
The ladder's ropes caught fire, and a sinking feeling spread through the warriors currently occupying the stolen skiffs. They slowed down the pace of their vessels, watching as the burning, flaming ship continued to progress towards the others, past one of the shattered walls where…
Where something shifted. Something other than ice.
"There!" Yuro shouted, pointing towards the crumbled wall.
Amid the fragments of the wall, standing close to the right end of the bay, two bodies had landed on the ice, as safely as possible, under the circumstances. One was unmoving, the other seemed to be in pain, but still capable of holding the other one carefully.
"Zuko! That way!" shouted one of the warriors: the Fire Nation Prince, steering the second skiff that had rescued most the soldiers, obeyed immediately, powering his ship – and leading the other three, in doing so – towards the unstable remains of one of Katara and Aang's walls.
As relieved as he was to still be alive – and to have ensured his father was, too – Sokka shuddered painfully as he clung to the icy wall. Some of the ice shards, protruding from the unstable wall, had pierced his clothes, cutting his thigh when he had landed on them. He had shielded his father from the worst of the impact, hoping to take the most of it on his armor… but Hakoda's head bled profusely after the blows he had taken on the ship. Sokka shuddered, disregarding his own pain as he nudged his father, gently.
"Y-you okay there, Dad…?" he asked. Hakoda grunted, and Sokka sighed in relief. "Dad…"
"I… am not so spry anymore, eh…?" he said, with a humorless chuckle. "S-sorry to burden you, Sokka…"
"You didn't… you didn't burden me at all, damn it. Just… don't scare me that way again, okay?" Sokka said, gritting his teeth as he embraced Hakoda tightly. He had lost far too much as it was: he refused to lose his father next.
Had the tower collapsed fully a moment earlier, they would have been buried underneath its flaming debris. Sokka had managed to collect his father and leap out of the way a mere instant before the worst of it had crashed down: cut off from the ladder and the rest of the warriors, Sokka had no choice but to resort to his whimsical, unreliable plan B: he hoisted his father, held onto him tightly, aimed for the nearest shattered wall and he jumped, hoping it would hold their weight… and it hadn't, at first. They had slid down a stretch of the wall, the momentum almost dragging them down to the freezing waters, but Sokka clenched the ice as hard as he could with his legs, directing their fall until they reached a more stable part of the wrecked wall. He slowed their descent as much as he could by then, but even so, he had nearly slipped off the icy ledge at the last moment. His own weight made matters difficult enough, but carrying his near-unconscious father as well had nearly rendered his efforts useless. By now, he feared even moving an inch might see them both tumbling down into the water.
As needles, painful and harsh, seemed to dig into his body after that harsh fall, Sokka glanced about himself, hoping to find any means to reach safety. Ice shards tumbled from the wall still, and other than water, they only had the tall cliff behind them: climbing all the way there would prove difficult even in ideal circumstances, near impossible when they both were injured, to varying degrees… even loud noises would threaten to shatter the cliffs and walls. Sokka gritted his teeth, bracing himself for waiting in silence and impatience until, perhaps, Katara and Aang could come find them… then his eyes fell upon the four skiffs, manned and held by the Water Tribe forces, sailing their way.
"That's… ah, hell…" Sokka sighed in relief: Haka and Kattan stood on the deck of one ship, waving at them, as another skiff drifted closer to the wall.
"Sokka…!" exclaimed Kattan, once the ships were close enough: the Gladiator raised a hand in their direction, hoping his gesture would ensure their silence. To his relief, they fell quiet indeed.
"This is… unstable," Sokka explained as best he could, grimacing.
"Our ships can get closer…!" Haka said, before poking his head into the small command cabin, crowded as it was. Kattan flinched at the sight of dark blood spilling down the ice, creating a powerful enough contrast that he could glimpse it even with just one torch to help them identify their surroundings.
Sokka gritted his teeth, watching as the nearest small boat approached, reeling as close as it could go. Any closer and they'd bump into the ice, which could cause the wall to collapse further.
"I… I can't just toss him there or so," Sokka said, glancing pleadingly at the warrior aboard the ship. "My dad's injured, I…"
"Oh, hell…" the warrior grimaced: another warrior rushed to climb to the roof of the skiff's cabin, immediately.
From there, he was much closer and he might be able to reach for Hakoda… but only if Hakoda could stretch out to reach him. The delicate operation would be complicated even if the Chief weren't hurt at all.
"Another…" Sokka advised the warrior. "G-get someone else to… to climb up there with you."
"Sokka…" Hakoda managed to speak again, his voice weak. As far as Sokka knew, his father had taken a bad injury to the head, but perhaps he'd received more damage than he could tell just yet.
"I'll… I'll hoist you as best I can," Sokka explained. "They'll carry you over to the skiff, okay?"
Hakoda swallowed hard, unwilling or unable to even nod in acknowledgement of Sokka's intentions. Sokka squeezed him one more time, fleetingly realizing he'd held his father in his arms far more times in a single day than he had in years.
When there were enough warriors in position, Sokka heaved out a breath before lifting his father carefully by the waist. Hakoda grimaced, struggling to make out his bearings… but when a hand touched his own, he clasped it.
"There you are…!" said one of Hakoda's men, reaching for his forearm now, hoping to offer his Chief further stability. Another reached for his free arm next.
Sokka snarled, raising his knife with his right hand and stabbing it through the strongest ice near him: it served as a peg he clung to while hoisting his father with his other arm, knowing the warriors would need Hakoda to be closer yet to pull him to them.
At last, one of them managed to clasp Hakoda's shoulder. He nodded from over the Chief's head towards Sokka, who grimaced as he eased his grip on his father little by little: the men were brusque, but they had to be to bring Hakoda aboard safely. By then, six pairs of hands yanked at his parka, reeling him in, until finally Sokka could let go completely, ensuring his father was safe at last.
"We've got you, we've got you!" said the first of the warriors, pulling Hakoda aboard carefully: now it became apparent he bore an injury on one flank as well, and Sokka winced at the sight of the blood staining his father's clothes.
Hakoda couldn't stand all that easily, but he made his best effort to do so as his fellow warriors helped him retain his balance. Another one on deck offered to hoist him down: Hakoda voiced no complaints and allowed them to bring him down from the skiff's roof.
"Alright, Hakoda's safe now!" Haka said, from the other ship, glancing at Sokka and stretching a hand towards him: their own skiff hovered closer to the wall by now, enough that some of the warriors could leap from the overcrowded skiff Haka and Kattan were on, and to Hakoda's skiff instead. Still, it seemed to Sokka there were far too many passengers on either one.
"S-so many people…" Sokka mumbled, grimacing: it was a damn miracle those small skiffs still could float, as crowded as they were…
Before he could start coming up with a plan – one that hopefully wouldn't put too much strain on his injured legs –, a deafening, whirring sound seemed to invade everyone's ears: a crash, and metal scraping against metal, singing a shrill enough song to bring several men to scream… though some, further into the battlefield screamed for more urgent reasons than over the loudness of the sound.
Their hijacked ship had powered onwards, by Hakoda's design, crashing against the flank of one enemy vessel: the momentum of the abandoned ship led it to carry on forward, and it only stopped its persistent progress across the water when it crashed, head on, against one more enemy ship that, in its attempt to drift away from the oncoming crash, had done nothing but expose its flank to the danger.
A burst of fire now lit up the frozen bay: the exploding engines and boiler rooms burned as a bright, merciless sun amid further detonations and screams from the desperate and the damned, struggling to find a way to safety.
Sokka watched the outcome of his father's plan, breathing heavily. It had been risky, too risky indeed… but it had paid off, to a fault. From what he could see, around fourteen ships remained… many of which had lost their catapults through Aang and Katara's actions earlier, too. Most of the fleet had been dismantled by now, but Sokka snarled as he clung to his knife, knowing that what little stability he had found on this strange ice ledge would vanish sooner than later. They wouldn't have it so easy to attack the remaining ships anymore, the skiffs were meant for escape, not for battle…
But the last of their forces had yet to finish their appointed task. As much as Sokka's hands were figuratively tied, and his legs too weak to hold him up anymore, the final touch on his plans to defend the Water Tribe would be delivered by the hands of the two waterbenders who waved their hands in timed movements, shifting and changing the water into ice, crafting a sturdy ice barrier.
"Ready?!" Katara called to Aang: the wall they'd raised already stood close to the level of the decks of each battleship. It wasn't enough just yet… but it would be, soon.
"Ready!" the Avatar responded, nodding firmly.
They hovered at the center of the wall, right behind the last rows of vessels that couldn't easily maneuver their way through the chaos-ridden bay, let alone could they do so now, with their mobility limited further by that wall… which would only become a bigger hurdle for the enemy's forces than it already was.
Aang and Katara raised their hands repeatedly, ushering the water to rise with them: they froze every wave that they bent up against the wall, adding new layers of ice, thickening the barrier further, strengthening it against any attempts to strike it down.
The walls they'd crafted had already been thick and sturdy: this time, the two waterbenders endeavored to ensure this wall would be much stronger than any that had preceded it. Together, they continued to stir the water upwards and lock it in place, freezing it higher and higher, enough to tower over the heights of the tallest ship tower.
The wall cast an ominous shadow upon the sinking fleet: the burning vessels seemed to shine brightly against it, highlighting its sudden presence for the soldiers who, in a matter of hours, had marched into what should have been an easy battle only to find themselves at the losing end of it persistently, facing down enemies so fierce, inventive, strong and daunting that the powerful forces of a furious Fire Lord could not hope to fight back. Had the Water Tribe been holding back for all these years? Had they always possessed this sort of unbridled power and no one had been the wiser? Or was it, perhaps, the doing of a younger generation… of the leadership of their Gladiator?
Sokka almost laughed as he watched the persistent rise of the powerful wave of ice: the bay was now blocked entirely, leaving no escape for the ships… just as he had intended it. Perhaps the Fire Nation still had means to fight back… but if the last remaining ships could send no skiffs to request reinforcements from their nearest outpost in Whaletail Island, this battle would be over all the sooner.
The gravity of the situation truly didn't seem to dawn on the Fire Nation soldiers until the two waterbenders, riding on the back of the sky bison, flew past the massive wall they had just crafted. They were in view once more, and as much as their chests heaved and their efforts appeared to have taken a toll on them, their impact on the battlefield was still far from over.
The bison dove down: together, Aang and Katara continued to freeze the waters, spreading the ice towards the vessels that stood nearest: ice spikes burst through their hulls, rendering the battleships useless, and moving on to the next one until, little by little, even the last vessels with a fighting chance were utterly overwhelmed and outdone by the waterbenders' prowess.
Skiffs escaped desperately, rushing towards the nearest shores: Katara resolved that problem by raising a powerful wave that toppled the smaller ships, flinging them against the cliffs violently after tossing most their tripulants overboard. Aang continued to focus on freezing the ships, albeit slowly, and Katara joined him at it whenever she didn't notice any urgent threats. Ice seemed poised to take over the entire bay, to reshape it into an eternally frozen battleground, where no Fire Nation commander could have predicted the catastrophic outcome that would tear their forces apart.
The last remaining ship had an unharmed catapult… but there was no one left on deck: they had abandoned ship, Katara guessed…
The flapping of wings, amid the noise of burning ships, of crashing metal, of sinking and drowning and screams of all sorts, nearly went undetected by the waterbender and by the Avatar beside her. Yet the shadow crossed the side of her vision and she gasped, immediately recognizing the messenger hawk for what it was.
"Aang!" she exclaimed, startling him. "A messenger hawk!"
Aang gasped, turning quickly to glance in the bird's direction. He snarled before rising up, handing Appa's reins to Katara before picking up his glider.
"I'll catch it! Try to get back to the others! I think a lot of soldiers have tried to escape, so…!"
"Go, Aang!" Katara said, nodding reassuringly.
Aang opened the glider quickly and leapt into the air: yes, this would likely reveal to the enemy that the Avatar had been among the Water Tribe… but that was one of the reasons why they had to cut off their communication in the first place. If he could prevent the Fire Nation from learning not only of his existence, but above all else, of the outcome of this battle, the Water Tribe would be safe, if only, for a little while longer.
Katara breathed out, watching Aang take off before working by herself to freeze the bottom of that last ship: at this point, she had no idea where she found the strength to fight as fiercely as she had so far, but she knew she'd likely feel the exhaustion down to her bones after she got some rest. She could safely say she had never bent quite as much as she had on that day… and it felt right. It felt like a true calling, like this was exactly what she had been born to do. No matter how exhausting or hard it had been… she knew this was her duty to her people, to her friends, to her family. If she had saved any lives at all, being a little tired was but a small price to pay for it, and she'd pay it gladly.
Once every large vessel was frozen, it would have been time to chase the skiffs… but Katara knew she couldn't afford to do so right now: she shook Appa's reins, flying fast towards the area where the captured ship had been attacked. A small group of skiffs, instead of seeking land frantically like the others, had crowded there. She suspected at once that those were captured vessels, much like the battleship that had rammed successfully into two more ships earlier.
The brightness of the burning ships allowed her to identify blue clothes in those skiffs, as she had expected to… though there were a few Fire Nation armors there, too. She scowled as she urged Appa to head lower… and only then did her eyes fall upon the crumbled wall the ships floated next to.
"Sokka…? Sokka!" she exclaimed: her brother winced visibly even at a distance, raising a hand as though to ask her to quiet down…
Katara dove down towards him, raising her hands and strengthening the ice he clung to. Sokka yelped but waited until his sister's work was done… and by then, he was safe to sit up without fear of falling into the water, which was now far closer than it had been before thanks to his sister's bending: Katara had lowered the ledge slightly, spreading it towards the nearest ship to give him room to climb aboard… though the warriors disembarked on the ice instead, intending to pick him up.
Horror-struck, Katara's gaze fell upon her brother's wounded legs… but she wouldn't have much time to process the sight: Haka and Kattan called for her, urgently.
"Katara! Your dad is on that skiff, he's wounded…!" they were saying, pointing at the skiff closest to Sokka's wall, and after that, Katara heard nothing more.
She urged Appa to move closer to the skiff in question and leapt aboard, pushing through the warriors until she found Hakoda, nestled on a small seat within the skiff. He breathed with difficulty but smiled immediately when his eyes fell upon her.
"My girl… Katara," he grinned. "You're alright…?"
"I am, but you're not!" she exclaimed, rushing towards him and cupping his face. "You… c-can someone get me a lantern? I need to…!"
"Sokka needs some help, too!"
"There's other injured warriors as well…!"
Katara snarled: she would have been a fool if she had expected there to be no injuries, no serious or lasting damage, throughout this battle. And with no one else to take care of those things, no one else with knowledge of healing… that responsibility could only fall to her.
She could have been frustrated about it, about no longer having the chance to continue fighting the survivors of the Fire Nation fleet, if only her father and her brother weren't among the injured. With a lantern's glow to help guide her, Katara inspected the two injuries on her father's body and stepped outside quickly to bring some freezing water with her, water she warmed by shifting it quickly in place, vibrating its components, though without allowing it to reach a boiling point. Then, she placed it upon her father's flank, the more urgent injury, and the water glowed brightly enough on its own that a lantern no longer seemed necessary. Many of the nearby warriors, some of whom had jumped over from Haka and Kattan's skiff, watched with amazement as Katara worked the way she had taught herself to, guided by the words Sokka had off-handedly spoken, a few months ago: she would bridge the chi back together. Her water would ease her father's injury and mend it by doing so.
As Katara worked to help their father, Sokka rose to his feet and snarled at the pain on his legs. It wasn't unbearable, but it was terribly familiar… in an unwanted way. Reminiscing on the day when a hypnotized gladiator had sliced his thighs open wasn't something he particularly liked doing.
"Sokka! You alright?"
The voice belonged to Zuko this time, to the Gladiator's surprise. He glanced at the banished prince, who seemed to have been at the helm of the most crowded skiff, and he waved in his direction just as the warriors who intended to help him stepped across the ice.
"Still alive," Sokka told Zuko, with a weak grin. Zuko nodded in acknowledgement of his response.
The warriors guided him towards the skiff, but the sudden sound of splashing and whimpering froze Sokka cold before he could reach the vessel. He turned around quickly, no matter how pained his legs were, to spot a Fire Nation soldier, no longer wearing his helmet, drenched throughout as he clung to the same ice wall Sokka had landed on. The man surely had always been pale, but his purplish-blue lips revealed he was moments away from freezing to death.
Sokka snarled, ignoring his legs and climbing down towards the man. The others gasped, uncertain of what to make of the Gladiator's obvious intent to save the soldier's life.
"Sokka, you have to…!"
"Save him. I do. Even if he won't thank me for it," Sokka decided: he raised a hand towards Appa, who still hovered nearby, and he fisted the creature's fur delicately, at first. "Want to give me a hand?"
Appa grunted in response, lowering his head. Aang had ridden on his neck… so Sokka guessed that was what he was expected to do. He breathed out and climbed on with difficulty, picking up the reins and ushering the creature forward…
"What is it Aang says…?" Sokka grimaced, as Appa moved of his own accord towards the freezing soldier. He shook his head, giving up. "Oh, never mind."
The soldier glanced at him as the bison loomed closer. Sokka expected the man might attempt to shun him away, to reject his help… but instead he stretched out a trembling hand, desperate for any chance to survive and escape the freezing water.
So Sokka clasped his hand and yanked him out of the icy water, trying his best not to be fazed by the man's frigid body. He pulled him up with as much delicacy as he could muster, setting him down on the bison's saddle, where the man winced and flinched against the cold air.
"Sokka! Pull Appa this way, damn…!"
Zuko's voice reached him again, and as much as Sokka wasn't sure at all about how to control the creature, he took to shifting the reins until Appa, swimming on the deadly waters of the South Pole, waded towards the skiffs.
Many warriors aboard seemed utterly perplexed by Sokka's choice to save the soldier… but not Zuko. He said something quickly to another of the warriors before jumping up to the bison's saddle, warming the body of the freezing man with his firebending.
"Thanks," Sokka said, offering him a quick smile. Zuko swallowed hard.
"I hope this is the right thing to do," he said, unwilling to meet Sokka's eyes. "Most these people won't thank you for your mercy… they'll probably blame you for putting them in this position in the first place."
"That's a big difference between me and your piece of shit of a father, I'd say…" Sokka said, yanking Appa's reins once more. "I'd rather keep them alive so they can chide and hate me all they want. I will only kill them if they give me no other choice."
"Whereas my father would gladly kill anyone in his way, for good measure," Zuko sighed, nodding. "Well, I can't really blame you for that. Just… try and not pick up anyone who seriously looks like they might kill us."
"You've got a pair of perfectly good swords there… pretty sure you can cut them down before they try," Sokka said, with a tight-lipped grin. "Thanks for helping me out, though."
Zuko nodded, powering his firebending further to heal the freezing man. Truth be told, this one might survive if he was lucky… but he surely hadn't been in the water for that long. They were far likelier to find corpses than survivors… yet it seemed Sokka intended to search the battlefield right now all the same.
"You're wounded, aren't you?" Zuko asked Sokka. "You ought to go see your sister…"
"My dad's worse off. He needs it more than I do," Sokka answered, curtly, steering Appa away from the cluster of Water Tribe-controlled skiffs. Zuko said nothing to that.
The next man they found, as Zuko anticipated, had already died. Sokka gritted his teeth and urged Appa to keep going, setting his sights on the next dark shape he spotted afloat on the water. This time it was an engineer, afloat on debris, trembling violently and gazing at them pleadingly.
"P-please don't kill me, please don't kill me, please…"
"We'll get you out of there if you let us," Sokka said, simply, offering him his hand. "We've already picked up someone else: you're the second survivor so far."
The engineer might have been less agreeable if his life hadn't been on the line: he clasped Sokka's hand and yelped when the strong Gladiator hoisted him up. Moments later, the shivering man sat by Zuko's side, rubbing his poorly-outfitted body in an attempt to regain warmth. Zuko raised one of his hands towards him, a plum of fire dancing on his palm.
"Y-you're… a firebender?" asked the engineer. "Thank you, this is… w-wait. You're…?"
"I'm no one that matters anymore," Zuko responded, quickly. "If you don't want to be helped by me, feel free to jump overboard again…"
"P-Prince… Prince Zuko?" the engineer said. Zuko grimaced.
"So what?" he said. To think the day had come when he craved to truly bury his royal past out of sight, when in his teenage years he would have given anything to be acknowledged by those he had hoped would be his subjects…
"J-just… t-thank you, Prince Zuko," the man said. Zuko froze in place: had he truly been thanked by a man who should have seen him as a traitor? As the enemy?
He glanced at Sokka with uncertainty: the Gladiator continued to scout for survivors, guiding Appa past another floating corpse. Perhaps there was wisdom in the warrior's choices, wisdom that Zuko hadn't understood just yet. The Fire Nation soldiers, the engineers, the sailors… many choices had been made for them, long before they even realized it. Their lives had been conditioned by the cruel Fire Lord who determined the course of their future, of their very existence… how many of them would break free, if only they had the chance to do so? How many would appreciate kindness even if it was given to them by the enemy? And how many would be so stubborn as to reject the last chance to survive solely because it was granted by the Gladiator?
They happened upon one such person after the fourth they'd managed to salvage: a high-ranked official, from the looks of it, shivering as he clung to the remnants of a wall. He glared at Sokka fiercely, and at the men who either languished or sat on the saddle with Zuko.
"T-traitors! Traitors, all of you…!" he roared. Sokka, naturally, was unamused.
"Funny, calling the enemy a traitor when he tries to save you… after you've been betrayed by the Fire Lord who knowingly sent you to your death," Sokka said, curtly. The man flinched, doubt tinging his features immediately. "But rest assured, there's others out there worth saving. I'm wasting no time with someone who'd rather die to honor his Fire Lord's orders. See you in the next life."
"W-wha-…? N-no! Get back…! W-well, fine! Go on and… and leave! Get out, I don't need your help! I don't…! T-the Fire Lord…!"
"The Fire Lord won't even learn of your death for months, years maybe, if I can get away with it," Sokka said, with a shrug, as he shook Appa's reins. "Good luck hoping he'll avenge you, but he won't get a chance to do that at all."
The soldier whimpered, splashing in the water, as he watched his salvation drifting away. The others on the saddle appeared guilty, uneasy – at least, the more conscious ones – but no one even protested the Gladiator's choices. No one would come save him…
He would die, frozen, like so many others had died tonight.
"Come… come back! Come back! Come back, please!"
Sokka breathed deeply, glancing back at Zuko, who grimaced with distaste.
"Not much room left on the saddle anymore," he told him. "We should get these guys to safety first, whether you bring that one bastard along or not."
Sokka shook his head before, against his better sense, yanking the reins to collect the man by the shattered wall. It seemed as though he hadn't truly expected them to return, and now, because they had, he'd fallen silent. Sokka leaned down again, yanking him more forcefully than the others and dropping him on the saddle quickly.
"Y-you… you…!" the man started, glaring at the back of Sokka's head fiercely…
Then he fell silent swiftly when the hilt of a dao sword struck him on the side of his head.
The other rescued members of the Fire Nation fleet flinched at Zuko's violent means to silence the man. Sokka heard the blow and glanced back to find Zuko was back to work at evening the temperatures of the others – sparing only a small amount of warmth for the man they'd just helped.
"The command for flight is 'yip yip', by the way," Zuko said. Sokka smiled and nodded.
"Thanks," he said quickly, before speaking the words to the bison. "Yip yip, Appa: let's get out of here."
The bison took to the sky, startling the men on the saddle – the conscious ones, at least. None of them had flown at all before, and they panicked instinctively as the creature flew higher yet…
As focused as the others might be on the wonders of flight, Sokka's eyes were immediately drawn to the shore, deeper into the bay: around five hostile skiffs seemed to have reached the crumbled area of the cliff he'd stood at earlier, and the soldiers who had made land had already rushed towards the settlement. The fleet's ships were mostly inert or sinking by now… but the battle wasn't truly over yet.
"Fuck," Sokka snarled, shaking the reins quickly. "Hurry, Appa!"
Zuko gritted his teeth, clasping his swords fiercely once again. He had no problem with Sokka's idea to save Fire Nation survivors, if it was possible… but not until the Water Tribe was safe, and the enemy forces were well and truly defeated. The men on the saddle might even attempt to turn on them now if they realized their fellow soldiers were still fighting.
He shot a glare at them all, menacing, the blades in his hands gleaming under the blazing flames of the many destroyed ships below them. The threat was clear: there was a limit to their generosity. If they hoped to live, they'd do best not to cross the two swordsmen or they'd pay for it dearly.
Appa roared as they neared the scuffle: fire flung from the soldiers collided with shields and weapons held by the warriors. Spears jabbed from either side, but as much as the settlement might have provided the warriors with some necessary superiority on the battlefield, it appeared the soldiers had managed to push them back, past the barricades that now had been engulfed in flames.
Sokka yanked back Appa's reins, deliberately making the creature sweep its tail towards one barricade on fire: the air that buffeted the Fire Nation soldiers didn't suffice to knock them down… but the barricade did fly towards them, ramming into the group and giving the Water Tribe warriors a chance to break the Fire Nation's formation.
They took it gladly, driving a wedge between two factions of the Fire Nation soldiers, eroding their defenses until their blades had cut into them… but several warriors lay on the snow, even if there were more than twice as many Fire Nation soldiers immobile on the ice. Sokka gritted his teeth before withdrawing his boomerang, casting it powerfully towards the enemies: it sliced one soldier's neck, right underneath his helmet, and he crumbled to the ground as the blood-soaked weapon spun back to Sokka's hand.
Zuko had never quite tried to bend fire from Appa's back – he didn't ride the creature that often, to begin with –, and performing a kata didn't prove easy, but he conjured a potent enough fire blast to launch at the soldiers from where he stood. When a prisoner whimpered beside him, he broke the kata to clasp his sword anew: the man quieted down immediately.
Their support provided the Water Tribe with an edge over the soldiers: the fire caused the men to scatter, confused over the source of the evidently hostile firebending. It offered their enemies the perfect opening that the warriors exploited immediately, cutting down their foes.
Sokka caught his boomerang for the third time after the last of the men knelt on the snow: he showed them his hands, pleading for mercy among his slain fellow soldiers. Appa landed quietly behind the man, who was still being threatened by the Water Tribe warriors.
"We've got a few other survivors here," Zuko announced, startling the warriors assigned to the settlement. "We can rally the prisoners in the settlement, right?"
"Probably," Sokka said, nodding as he gestured at Zuko. "If you get them off the saddle, we can try to find a few others…"
"You ought to get your injuries checked already, damn you," Zuko told him, shaking his head as he picked up the unconscious officer from earlier and handed him to the warriors below. They collected the man with displeasure, but they understood, without needing to be told, that Sokka intended to keep them as prisoners, at least for the time being.
Sokka nodded in acknowledgement of Zuko's words: he did think he could go on for a while longer, but the sooner Katara patched him up…
"Sokka…!" one of the warriors stepped up, looking at him worriedly. The Gladiator raised an eyebrow at the anxious expression.
"Things didn't go so poorly," Sokka said, raising a hand to soothe his possible concerns about their venture to capture Fire Nation ships. "The fleet's pretty much finished, we were fishing out survivors… as far as I know, there's not a lot of injured on our side and Katara's helping them already, but…"
"They got away!" the warrior said, interrupting Sokka suddenly. The Gladiator frowned, falling quiet immediately. "We were swarmed, and we managed to push back against most of them, and then some of us gave them chase, but…!"
"They're on their way to the village!"
Kino couldn't have spoken more ominous words. He bellowed them with all his strength as he stood at the top of the settlement's tower: his face was a mask of anxious fear, even at a distance.
Sokka's stomach sank immediately. Zuko, who had been easing down the last of the rescued soldiers, nearly dropped the man upon hearing those words. While the warriors appeared ready to keep the weakened men under control, a cloud of guilt hung over them all… no doubt, for having failed to stop part of the group of Fire Nation soldiers from marching deeper into the frozen tundra, directly towards the Water Tribe.
"Keep the prisoners here!" Sokka roared, snapping back into his senses immediately: there was, yet again, no time to waste. "We'll go after them!"
"We can help…!" said one of the warriors, but Sokka had shouted Appa's flight command by then: the sky bison took off without another moment's hesitation, ensuring the warriors would linger by the Pole's shore – or what was left of the shore –, watching over the men Sokka and Zuko had fished out of the frigid waters.
Sokka had no idea how to press the bison on more urgently: he shook the reins repeatedly, and perhaps Zuko would have scolded him for it, told him that wasn't the way to command the creature… but he was even more anxious than Sokka now, if that was possible. His world seemed to be spinning, his stomach sinking so badly it felt as though he had left it back at the settlement. He might be sick at this rate just imagining those soldiers, whoever they might be, however many of them as there might have been, breaching the Tribe's walls…
"Faster, Appa, faster!" Sokka hissed, glaring at the horizon as though that might help him spot the village… as though he might be able to glimpse the soldiers by it. But so far, all he could see were tracks, footprints…
Footprints that were interrupted suddenly by the unconscious or dead forms of two warriors who had pursued the Fire Nation soldiers.
Sokka gritted his teeth, yanking Appa's reins back to ease the creature's flight. Zuko appeared moments away from protesting, but he fell silent when he caught sight of the warriors on the snow. Sokka snarled as Appa landed beside them: the Gladiator leapt on the snow and flinched at the immediate burst of pain on his legs… but he rushed towards the men anyway, yanking them to the side to check whether they lived or died.
"They're still breathing…" Sokka said, though the stabbing wound across the ribcage on the second one suggested that might not be the case for too long. He gritted his teeth and glanced back at Zuko. "Zuko…"
"Damn it… fuck the Fire Lord, to hell and back!" Zuko roared, jumping off the saddle to help Sokka anew.
Maybe the tribe would be safe anyway, maybe the enemy would fail to breach their defenses… but they had no idea how many soldiers were marching to the village, or how dangerous they might be. The women and older children had been trained to protect themselves, and Suki would lead them… but would that suffice? Would they arrive to discover their victory in the bay hadn't sufficed to protect everyone back home?
The chaos by the harbor could be heard in the distance. The columns of smoke that rose from the ships poured into the sky, but they were scarcely visible in the dark night… until the fire began. Suki shivered as she stood by the Tribe's wall, clutching her fans tightly. She had to believe in them… to trust the burning brightness in the distance spelled something other than the destruction of her friends and family, of the man she loved…
"W-what do we do?" one of the women near her, twice Suki's age, glanced at her hopelessly. "Should we send someone to…?"
"No," Suki said, firmly, but sadly. "Whatever's happening out there… we'd do best to trust they're taking care of it. We have the Avatar on our side… we have great benders like my husband and Katara, too. And of course…"
"There's Sokka, too," the woman agreed, nodding weakly. Suki managed a small smile in her direction.
"The Fire Nation's going to need quite a lot of firepower to beat us today," Suki said. "Hopefully, they'll have underestimated us plenty and failed to send their best…"
Though she spoke the words half-heartedly: if Ozai wanted Sokka dead, would he really settle for a weak attack force? It was true that the Fire Nation had countless warfronts to still take care of and starting a new one in the Southern Water Tribe couldn't be easy. Sokka had appeared confident that the Fire Nation's forces were spread too thin… it was the main thought that brought Suki any hope. Perhaps the Fire Lord couldn't afford sending more than two hundred soldiers, or so… perhaps he'd be so confident of their abilities that he'd think that would be enough. But if he didn't…
Hours had passed since the warriors had taken off to the harbor when one of the sentry women spotted a shape in the horizon.
"Someone's coming!" she exclaimed. Suki glanced at the watch tower warily: the tone of the sentry's voice didn't sound reassuring…
"Just the one?" Suki asked, fists tightened around her fans again.
"N-no, it's… oh no."
Suki's stomach sank.
Whatever had happened by the harbor, the Tribe was under attack.
"T-there's… four, six, ten? I think it's… twelve!" the sentry counted grimacing as she glanced at Suki. "What do we do?!"
"We fight back, is what!" Suki said, glancing back at the rest of the fighters in the village. "Stand ready! We don't know what these foes will be capable of, but they won't reach our families!"
The women appeared prepared for battle, furnished with knives and spears… yet the fear in their faces spoke for itself. Suki gritted her teeth, turning again towards the entrance… hoping that, by leading by example, she would provide the Water Tribe women with the courage they'd need to fight back.
She could see the approaching enemy by then: their armor and helmets were the same as the ones worn by the soldiers that invaded her hometown long ago. She had failed to defeat them back then, overwhelmed by their numbers… twelve, though? She could handle that. They had run all the way to the Tribe, too: they'd be tired, and no doubt they'd expect to find no resistance here, for never before had the Tribe's women fought back directly. They wouldn't get through her, they wouldn't reach Mari or Zi, no matter what…
Yet a pang of fear rushed through her all the same: how had these twelve soldiers trickled past the warriors at all? It was only twelve, so it had to mean they'd managed to fight back to some degree… but had these twelve overwhelmed them? Had they slipped through their defenses, simply, or… or were they in danger? Was Zuko…?
She snarled, hissing at herself in a way she expected the others might think she'd lost her mind. It helped ground her, however… and it helped her focus on the task ahead.
"Stand ready!" Suki called, firmly, once again.
The women by the walls held up their boomerangs, despite lacking the expertise of many of the warriors in wielding those weapons. The ones on ground level stepped up to stand beside her. They'd prevent the soldiers from getting through the walls, taking advantage of the entrance to generate a chokepoint from where they'd stop the enemy from pouring into the village…
The soldiers continued to power towards them, their running unstable, perhaps revealing a few had sustained injuries or were simply too exhausted to fight properly. Yet it didn't keep one of them from roaring and bending a blast of fire directly towards the women standing within the walls…
Suki screamed back, leaping forward to sweep away the flames with her fans. The soldiers were only startled for a brief instant, but not badly enough to stop in their charge towards the walls: now they attacked anew, but their fire no longer aimed for the women that stood at the village walls… but towards the walls themselves.
The sentry women screamed, startled when the flames ate into the walls with ease: some of them lost their footing as the wall crumbled, and only a handful managed to toss their boomerangs, though none did it particularly effectively. Suki held back from rushing to check on the likely injured women: if she didn't focus on repealing the enemy, their situation would take a turn for the worse.
As trained as they were, most the women weren't quite ready to face the reality of war in the most direct, physical of manners. Suki, however, had been ready since childhood.
Spreading her fans open, Suki sprinted towards the soldiers: the next fire blasts were aimed at her, but her carefully timed movements saw her sidestepping each burst of flames. She no longer owned katanas, the blades she had true expertise with, but she had been given a set of whalebone knives of her own, and she didn't hesitate before stabbing through the flank of the man leading the group of soldiers.
He screamed and she roared ferally before yanking out the knife and carrying forward: she had never wanted to kill gladiators, back in the day… she had avoided doing so, until that final match had left her with no other choice. Yet on the actual battlefield… when her family and home were threatened, she held nothing back. She would see each of those twelve bastards fall, and she would never let them set foot within the village if she could help it.
Two more attacked her next, as their leader fell in a heap on the snow. Suki had no choice but to jump back, still ready to defend herself from the fire with her fans, and to deliver as much damage as she could with both the blade and the fans themselves. She had fought against far fiercer enemies… she could do this.
Another woman's battle cries reached her: the one who had spoken with her earlier joined her in attacking the firebenders before they could continue melting their walls. Along with her, five more women poured out of the Tribe, ready to fight even if fear gripped their hearts tightly. What they fought for, however, far outdid their fear. A battle not only for their survival, but that of those they loved, could see them setting aside every hesitation to defend their people fiercely. They knew the Fire Nation wouldn't hold back… they were prepared for it, and they would respond in kind.
Suki continued to fend off the attackers, blocking as much of their firebending as she could with her fans, deflecting it into the snow, preventing it from reaching the new warriors who stood beside her. She had to protect them too, even if they would fight to their best: no one left in the village's premises was as experienced a fighter as she was. She slammed an elbow into the helmet of one of the nearest soldiers and the mask snapped out of place, breaking the man's nose with the potent impact of her blow.
By then, Suki had reduced two fighters and the other women had taken down one. She deflected another burst of flames, hissing when the fire scorched the tips of the furs on her coat, but she didn't let it faze her: she leapt forward and kneed the next soldier in the groin. He screamed, and she took her chances to stab his nearest ally's arm just as he was conjuring another fire attack…
Then, a spearpoint nearly jabbed straight into her head, and Suki inched back just in time for it to miss her. As much as the firebenders had been the ones to attack so far, the small group of enemies that had swarmed them wasn't comprised exclusively by firebenders.
Suki, however, wasn't exclusively trained to fight against firebenders either.
She spun around quickly, yanking her knife out of the soldier's arm before spreading her fan open to catch the next jab of the spear. The non-bending soldier gasped when he found his weapon stuck in the golden fan, as Suki snapped it closed and yanked it forward, pulling him in for yet another debilitating kick to the groin. When the man attempted to reach for another of his weapons, Suki's knife swung straight towards the small, exposed area between his armor and his helmet.
Five down, six counting the one her fellow warriors had reduced earlier. The women around her, courageous as they were, couldn't shake off their fear over the attacks of the enemy. Suki attempted to help those to her left… but the ones to the right were vulnerable because of that, and they screamed as the soldiers shot fire directly at them, kicking them down before marching into the village.
"No… NO!" Suki exclaimed, but the three men who had overcome their defenses rushed forward without opposition at first… then, when a young teenager tried to attack them, dashing out from the side of an igloo, he received a fistful of flames in response.
They marched forward, and Suki couldn't stop them. She couldn't do anything yet, not until she saved the women she'd tried to help… she snarled and rushed forth, kicking at the first soldier's legs, breaking his stance just before he could use his spear to deliver further damage: one of the women had fallen on the snow, screaming as blood rushed down her flank.
The others had rolled on the snow to muffle the flames, but they were in no shape to keep fighting. Three more fighters within the village succeeded at hindering one of the soldiers from rushing to the center of the village, but the other two powered on, unopposed…
Suki snarled, kicking the non-bending soldier again, knocking him to the ground before shouting at the nearby women:
"Kill him!"
The women were startled by her order, albeit they knew to expect it. They still had two more soldiers to defeat, but one less enemy would make matters easier…
Only a handful of foes remained on their feet: Suki turned to the village and rushed down the small paths between the igloos, after the soldiers that seemed ready to set fire to the Tribe, if they could get away with it. They shot flames to the nearest igloos, scorching the huts… and, unsurprisingly, they went for the largest igloo in the village, no doubt pinpointing it as an important location.
Suki had just raced past the soldier the women were restraining when she glimpsed the last two soldiers by the igloo's door. She screamed, raising her wrecked fan and tossing it ferociously, closed, at one of the men: the weapon bounced off his armor, but it succeeded at reclaiming his attention…
Only his, however.
The other soldier set the wooden door on fire.
"NO!"
The screams within Hakoda's igloo drove Suki's heart up to her throat: she roared as she rushed towards them, willing to stop at nothing to kill the soldiers: the fire would spread through the furs lining the walls, had they known as much? Had they chosen any other igloo, any empty homes, the damage would have been minimal… but they picked Hakoda's, the strongest, sturdiest of igloos… and now the damned firebender marched down the steps to the burning door, just as the other one turned towards Suki, ready to fight her and keep her from reaching the igloo.
Suki didn't slow down to prepare her new offensive: her movements were most likely predictable, and the firebender cast flames that she received directly on her parka…
Whatever damage those flames might inflict upon her, it was meaningless compared to the possibility of losing her children.
She raised the knife again just as the soldier crafted a new fire attack, aimed towards her chest: the flames charred her parka, burning the fur dangerously as the blade sank into his skin.
The soldier at the igloo door scowled: something wasn't right. They knew enough about the Water Tribe's way of living to know their ice should melt under their fire, their pelts should be aflame, their wooden floors as well… yet upon kicking the door down – and it gave out easily, seeing how damaged it already was –, he found smoke… but no flames.
Many scared screams and cries within the igloo suited the soldier's intent well enough: within the darkness of the igloo, he spotted children with large pots, no doubt previously filled with water, with which they had kept the fire from spreading further. They were quite prepared, then… but not prepared enough. Elderly women and men, and lots of children… it would suffice. He could use them as shields, hold them hostage, ensure the Gladiator sacrificed himself to save them, and then the Fire Lord's orders would finally be fulfilled…
"Not a single move, any of you!" the soldier roared, fiercely, summoning a burst of fire in his hand, menacingly. "I will set this shack of yours on fire again if you so much as dare disobey me: you are to be prisoners of the Fire Nation from this moment onwards! You will be…!"
Movement at the front of the group silenced him when his eyes fell upon a child of pale complexion and auburn hair… auburn? A rare enough color, but even more so in the Water Tribe, of all places…
Was it the effect of his fire, though, or were her eyes closer to amber than they were to blue?
"Stay put, child," he snapped, and the girl flinched. "Or else I will…!"
"MARI! ZI!"
The child gasped, her eyes widening as she heard that voice, so familiar and unusually strained with fear and anxiety.
"Mommy!" the child cried out: the soldier scowled, glancing back at the woman who had led the others, the one who had attacked them most fiercely. Of course, their hair matched, why hadn't he realized that until…?
His momentary distraction prevented him from anticipating the blow that destroyed his intentions to hold the group hostage: upon turning towards the child again, he was met with a burst of fire… launched from the child's fist.
He yelped, falling back, tripping on the igloo's steps… just in time for Suki to sort past the one in whose neck she'd left her knife: she clasped the other soldier's neck with far more strength than she remembered having, clawing into his skin and flinging him violently, powerfully, towards the burnt down fireplace at the center of the village.
He crashed into the charred bones of the last feast, his chest empty of air once he landed flatly on the icy ground. Suki released an anxious breath before rushing to her previous foe: she yanked out the knife, and blood poured from the man's lethal injury as she made her way to the other one.
A war cry powered with the fury of two decades of outrage, of losing far too much to the mindless goons of a power-hungry tyrant with no remorse, no true strength, with nothing but greed and cruelty to fuel his every choice, left Suki's throat as she stabbed the soldier through the chest repeatedly, tearing through his armor fiercely until finally she cleaved the weapon in the enemy's heart.
She knelt above the soldier, clothes charred and stained with blood. Her hair had fallen out of its half-knot, and her breaths shivered as they left her lips. Seeing red as she had been, her world seemed to fall into shape again now… to find that the third soldier had managed to overcome the women who had attempted to stop him.
He rushed towards her, no doubt intending to continue what his two comrades had started. Suki snarled, raising the knife anew…
A burst of firebending from above caught the man by surprise. An instant later, the soldier's head was lopped off by twin dao swords.
The blur with which Zuko had landed right in front of the shattered fireplace barely registered in Suki's mind: the blood-soaked swords couldn't have belonged to anyone but her husband, yet her heart jolted and raced as though she still had to fear for his fate. The knife she'd held failed to ground her until Zuko finally turned around, his anxious, horrified expression finding a perfect mirror in her own.
"Suki!"
"Zuko!"
They spoke each other's names in unison, and the firebender rushed to his wife immediately, gripped by fear he scarcely knew what to do with: she had been burned, she had been hurt, and he had nearly been too late…
But he hadn't been, in the end. She was alive, she was in his arms, and tears of relief, fury and passion ran down her cheeks as she clasped his face urgently, studying his features, seeking to confirm he was no mirage: he had survived and he was truly here, with her…
Suki had no time to recognize Appa until now: the creature soared past their position… and another man leapt off the bison's neck, a black sword in tow.
Sokka didn't land as safely as he could have – his legs threatened to give way upon impact, but he forced them to keep working as he rushed forth, to the soldiers just barreling through the village's entrance, after defeating the women who had bravely attempted to stop them.
Fear froze them before they could continue terrorizing the village: Sokka's sword cut across their weapons, rendering them helpless… yet not so much that they would back down. One attempted to punch him: his reward was a stab through the chest, and the sword slid through cleanly, as though there were no armor protecting him. The other tried to flee, hoping to use one of the injured women he'd left outside the village as a shield, much like the other soldier intended to use those hidden within the igloo…
The answer to his flight was the sharpest edge of a boomerang, launched quickly and lodged perfectly into the back of his neck.
The soldier convulsed as he fell on the snow. Sokka released a heavy breath as Appa roared again, landing by the village's outskirts. The bison appeared to protect the village fiercely with his large girth, and Sokka could only be grateful for that as he rushed outside the walls, as best he could, ignoring the injuries on his legs.
"Are you alright?!" he called to the hurt women: two appeared to have received flesh wounds, but the other… he snarled, leaning down upon reaching her to find a dangerous spearpoint was lodged under her collarbone.
"I… I…!" she whimpered, tears streaming down her face. Sokka's sharp eyes studied the injury quickly, glancing back to check on the others nearby as well. Several injured… it could have been worse, but it was bad enough as it was.
"Help me," Sokka said, to the other two. "Gather the injured, help me carry them inside. My grandmother… she can help while I get my sister. Alright?"
"No, you go get Katara now," said the oldest of the women, grimacing as she struggled to hoist the badly injured woman. "If she can come already, then please…! The sooner she's here, the better!"
Sokka nodded, rising to his feet with energy he wasn't sure where he was drawing from. He approached Appa, but instead of following the woman's suggestion immediately, he lowered the two wounded warriors onto the snow, first.
"Help them too, please!" Sokka called: the women nodded in agreement, and once the two warriors were safe on the ground, the Gladiator hoisted himself on the bison's neck once more. Trails of his blood spilled down the creature's pristine fur… he'd have to offer to wash him up once this was over, he suspected.
A quick glance towards the village helped him confirm the immediate threat had been dealt with. Dead soldiers by the entrance of the village, and a trail of them all the way to the central fireplace… they had cost the Tribe far too much, far more than they ever should have, but they had lost. They hadn't been able to overcome the Water Tribe…
"Mommy… Daddy!"
Mari's voice pierced through the night: Sokka's heart clenched as he watched the child rushing into her parents' embrace, who welcomed her just as urgently as they'd embraced each other. The little girl cried, no doubt terrified, but she was safe still… she was alright. The trauma, the fear she had faced… they'd be at their strongest for now, but Sokka hoped the horror she had faced would fade over time. Scared as she might be, Mari hadn't lost either of her parents in a battle that had caused the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands, in the bay… she still could be held safely by them now. No one else would threaten to bring her, or the rest of the villagers, any harm.
He forced himself to turn around and speak Appa's flying command… Katara. He had to find her, to bring her here, to hope that Zuko and Suki could keep the tribe safe now that those soldiers had been defeated. The Fire Nation's catastrophic debacle in the harbor was a great triumph for the Water Tribe… but as much as that was an objective relief, Sokka snarled in unbridled fury: none of this should have happened. Zuko and Suki shouldn't have been in danger of losing their children or each other. His sister shouldn't have been forcing herself to the extreme to keep her father and every wounded member of the Tribe alive, or to craft the protections Sokka had asked of her: none of these mindless soldiers should have ever been forced to obey Ozai's despicable orders.
Sokka urged Appa to speed up, aware that settling this situation would take time: there were many injured, several prisoners, and their fastest means of travel was a sky bison. Perhaps he could have Katara carry the more heavily injured warriors, Hakoda included, back to the Tribe on Appa's back… which meant their chances to fish out further Fire Nation survivors would dwindle further. The best he could do would be to walk by the cliffs, hoping to spot any who might have successfully hauled themselves out of the water. For now, though… it seemed the Fire Nation fleet had been well and truly massacred. As far as he could tell, out of around fifteen hundred soldiers, and who knew how many sailors and engineers, only around twenty men had survived, if that much.
Perhaps it was for the best: too many prisoners meant far too many mouths to feed, after all. If he tried to be practical, this might be the best outcome…
Yet guilt and rage permeated his thoughts again: he'd never wanted this. He was sick of the violence, of killing, of the warfare the Fire Nation had started so long ago. How weren't they tired of fighting? How were they so ready to die, to discard their lives, when so many would claw at any possibility of drawing breath for one more day?
Ozai would have been just as capable of commanding this cruelty even if he hadn't learned the truth behind his relationship with Azula. He was always ready to sacrifice his own men… but he would always mean to take even more lives from the enemy nations. The Fire Nation forces had been defeated for now… but they'd intend to come back, over and over again, whether until Ozai was too tired of a pointless struggle to attack any further, or until he'd killed every last one of his soldiers…
Or perhaps he'd only stop when it was his own blood tarnishing his regal halls.
Sokka's furious glare finally found purchase on the burning ships anew: he and Appa had reached the bay. He could see the destruction, the chaos… he hated and resented it, resented himself deeply enough for having caused it, if just by directing Ozai's vengeance to the South Pole. None of the lives lost today had deserved to be wasted. None of the pain, none of the injuries, should have happened at all…
But there was only one way to ensure this would never happen again.
His father's words, those he'd spoken earlier that day, resounded as war drums inside his mind:
"I won't hold you back, my son. I won't demand you stay here… I won't expect you to live out your life alone, mourning what you've lost, when it isn't quite so lost just yet."
Fire, stronger than that which burned in the sinking ships below, than that which the benders had wielded to attack the Water Tribe, than the one that blazed fiercely in Zuko's fists, than the one behind which Sokka had revealed himself to the Fire Nation fleet, took hold of his heart, of his whole being. Fire similar to that which had coursed through his chi paths, through his veins, over his connection with Azula…
Fire that burned with purpose. With need. With the fierceness of a man who would no longer allow others, not even those he loved most dearly, to determine his destiny.
Perhaps he hadn't been born to do this… perhaps he shouldn't have dared rise against an army that was hellbent on destroying him. There were countless reasons that should have weighed him down, endless factors that surely would make his upcoming journey difficult, many hurdles he could scarcely anticipate… but he chose to undertake that journey, all the same.
His father had said he'd understand. He'd said he'd see him off proudly. If he had to walk this path alone, so be it… but perhaps he wouldn't need to do so.
His scowl gained strength, watching the flames snuffed out by the freezing waters that consumed them. Fire could burn powerfully, consuming everything in its wake… but it could be tempered and destroyed. When the tinder ran out, when the fuel was spent, only ashes and smoke would remain.
The Fire Nation was far from undefeatable. The Fire Lord had but one future, one destiny ahead of himself… a future he'd singlehandedly picked by antagonizing him. By turning Sokka into his greatest foe, into the one man he had meant to destroy… and by becoming exactly the same thing for the Gladiator whose blood sang with the overpowering urge to raise his sword anew, to bring true justice to this world by cutting down the man responsible for the suffering of so many nations, of every man, woman and child throughout their war-torn world.
He closed his eyes as the fire slowly faded when the ships sank into the water, as darkness spread across the world anew: in that darkness, a memory seemed to take form once again. The form in question was that of a dark cabin he had been so profoundly familiar with… and upon that bed, heartbroken and hopeless, the woman whose heart he owned, and to whom he'd granted his own, spoke words that had held him back until that day:
"You have to promise me you'll be patient. That you won't do anything stupid… that as hard as it may be, you'll learn to live with our shared sorrow, and wait until we can be together safely again."
Two months had passed, and the world had only grown worse for it. Patience? How to exercise it at all, when its price was as steep as to cost the lives of the thousands who had drowned in the harbor? How to be patient, when that would only give Ozai further chances to destroy the world in his mindless fury?
"Don't take unnecessary risks… there's no point in trying to return to me if it'll cost you your life to make the trip, is there?"
Doing nothing was just as much of a risk as not taking action, at this point. Every breath he took, every instant that passed, was another moment with his life on the line, not unlike how it had been in the Amateur Arena. He had been in danger, persistently, constantly, for so many years until she'd found him…
And now that was the case once more. Without her, he would be in danger for every day he had left to live unless he took down the true menace, unless he fought back against the enemy that held her in his clutches.
"I can live on, I told you so, if I know you still live, too. I can endure anything if you're safe."
How he hoped it was true that she would live on… how he hoped she would be strong enough to survive in a world without him, no matter how punishing and merciless it might be. But safety…?
Neither of them were safe anymore. She had to know as much by now. The chaotic battle today had proven it was so.
"Promise you'll wait. Even if it's all those decades… even if it winds up being our next lifetimes, as well. Just… promise that, and I'll be… I'll find peace far more easily if you do."
He had made that promise.
He had also promised to be her gladiator and nothing more.
He had promised he'd keep her safe, and that vow, just as everything else, had been broken.
His blue eyes grew colder than the ice… yet they burned, powerfully, mercilessly, the way her azure fire had once burned. The fire she had poured through his system, branding him connected to her in a thousand more ways than they had understood.
Their promise would go broken, then, much as so many others had been shattered and discarded. He could no longer stand by it… not when his resolve, his purpose, had built after so many years until this moment.
Once he had been a young boy, childishly clinging to the hopes and dreams that he might one day defeat the Fire Lord. Today, he was a man weary with war and carnage, who understood he had yet to see far more destruction if he hoped to put a stop to the man who sought to hunt him down.
Well, he was no prey to be hunted, that was for sure. And Ozai was no hunter, just as well: it was the other way around, instead.
What had once been a mindless, innocent dream, had become his purpose. This was the destiny he had chosen for himself.
The Fire Nation's army would be defeated.
The Hundred Year War would come to an end.
The Fire Lord would fall, and the Gladiator would be the one to deliver his doom.
