Silence reigned in the guards' barracks. Four men waited in that building, kept under watch by soldiers of lower rank, both those who watched them from the walls and who stood around the building's perimeter, assigned to these duties by General Shaofeng himself: they were the prospects for the next promotion into Imperial Guards, handpicked by the General, meant to replace the third squad that would soon be dissembled entirely.
Ten of these Imperial Guard prospects stood steadfast at the building's entrance. Others, presumably, were scattered across the area, ensuring no one would come in or leave the building. None of them, not even the General himself, were aware of the absence of half the third squad's members: all that had mattered to Shaofeng was ensuring that Rui Shi was stuck, powerless, within the building.
One of the third squad's members, however, was on his way to the barracks at that very moment. His sudden arrival caused the whole group of guards to tense up, raising their fists in the guard's direction: Fei Li raised his own hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Seriously?" he exclaimed "A guy can't even go mope in his room in peace now after finishing his worst shift ever?!"
"Y-you… the captain of the third squad?" asked the apparent leader of this group, the one who stood at the very door. Fei Li huffed, shaking his head.
"I know we're getting demoted soon, doesn't mean we should stand for this disrespect!" he shouted again, unnecessarily loudly.
"Quiet down! We'll let you in, just shut up…" groaned another guard, walking to the building's door with a key in hand.
"B-but… wait. Is it a good idea?" asked the leader, frowning "Maybe it'd be wiser for us to keep him away from the rest of the group…"
"Why? We'd have to split up and watch him someplace else, wouldn't we?" said the other guard, already turning the key and unlocking the front door "We weren't given any orders of the sort, so there's no need for…"
He was silenced immediately by a sudden strike to his throat.
The source of the attack had been lurking right behind the door, waiting for Fei Li's arrival to take action: four Imperial Guards dashed out of the building at lightning speed. And as the guards assigned to keep them in place were startled by the sudden breakout, Fei Li had the perfect opportunity to attack as well.
It was a noisy pandemonium: they couldn't take down every opponent without being noticed, but they had no time to devise a more thorough strategy than this one. Fei Li's return would represent their best opportunity to stage an escape, and the sooner they got out, the likelier they were to survive long enough to help Azula and Sokka.
So they fought, ganging up together on the guard prospects that were struggling to articulate a proper defense against them: after almost a decade of working together, there was very little a full squad of less trained guards could do against the synergy of the five Imperial Guards. Rui Shi and Haoren fought together deftly, taking turns to defeat each enemy by taking advantages of the openings the other drew out with his attacks. Qiang and Han worked with Fei Li, raining fire powerfully upon their foes until any of them had a chance to knock the enemies unconscious.
They couldn't knock out all of them: some escaped, no doubt rushing off to find backup, and the ones at the walls raised an alarm immediately. It was clear the guards would have no time to waste once they had shrugged off the bulk of the resistance against them.
"Follow me!" Rui Shi shouted at his allies, rushing towards the Palace building. The others were startled by his order, especially when it seemed he was but guiding them straight into the beast's den… but they followed anyway. When it came to Rui Shi, they always did.
The servants shrieked and jumped out of the way. The patrolling guards tried to stop them, only to wind up at the receiving end of an inferno for their troubles. They kept running as fast as they could, towards the Palace's South Wing… and then Rui Shi yanked his allies towards the hidden passageway, and to the basement, once more.
"Should we block the entrance?!" Fei Li asked, urgently "There's furniture down there, maybe we could…!"
"No time. No point, there's other ways into the basement if they figure out that's where we went" Rui Shi said, frowning as he continued downwards.
"Where to now?" Haoren asked, breathing heavily: he wasn't anywhere close to exhausted, but adrenaline rushed in his body hastily after all the action they'd been drawn into in a matter of minutes.
"The tunnels" Rui Shi said, promptly, as the five made their way down the stairs "The likelihood is the General won't find out we've escaped yet… but we have to leave as quickly and quietly as possible from this point on, nonetheless"
The guards voiced soft, affirmative responses as Rui Shi led them to the same tunnels he'd taken on his way back from the port, on the night he'd last seen Song. His chest ached terribly whenever he thought of her… but he hoped, deeply, that she'd be proud of what he was doing, that she'd approve of his hard work to save their friends as he fought back against Shaofeng's oppressive control.
He knew the way through the underground network, expertly guiding the four other soldiers at a reckless, running pace once they were within the tunnels. No time should be wasted: there was no telling how long they'd have left to act, how long that execution would last, or how much time they'd have to interrupt it, either. No matter how drained any of them might feel after so many sleepless nights, after their souls were completely overcome by an unhealthy mix of misery and stress, they had to keep running as fast as possible.
Rui Shi knew he'd seldom pushed his body to these extremes, but he barely felt the strain as he finally reached the right tunnel: he pushed the trapdoor open violently, jumping out into the street after warily casting glances across the mostly empty area. The others followed, climbing after him and then following him through that very familiar house's fence… through the broken door, and through the floorboards covered in dry blood.
He had been determined to go all the way to his destination, but Rui Shi froze in place as his heart and mind were overcome by sorrow, by flashes of the sounds of Sokka's agony in the next room, by the tears Song had shed on his uniform that dark night. This safe place, this beautiful home… it hurt far more than expected to think he'd likely never set foot in it again. He'd have to reflect on that later, though: he couldn't continue to dawdle, especially if he was merely feeling sorry for himself.
"The balloon should be outside" he said, guiding the guards into the house they'd never set foot inside before.
"Let's get to it, then" said Fei Li, breathing deeply, though his eyes showed remorse just as well – he'd removed his helmet, much like the other four weren't wearing theirs anymore "Say… we should probably pick up everything we can, right? Gather things that could be useful, or meaningful, here…"
Rui Shi frowned, gazing at Fei Li with uncertainty. He shrugged as the other three guards casted wary glances between them… until the no-nonsense voice of Haoren cut through the silence.
"You both can take care of finding anything of value worth taking with us" he said, placing one hand on either captain's shoulder "Me and the others can get the balloon running"
Rui Shi swallowed hard, but even that couldn't do away with the knot in his throat. He nodded appreciatively at both Fei Li and Haoren, and the five guards split up for their respective duties.
Rui Shi made for the second floor immediately, his chest tightening as he entered Song's room: she'd left many things behind, despite having enough time to make a few bags before taking off. He sighed, stepping towards her dresser, tugging a cabinet open gently to find her hair ornaments: he'd seen her wearing those at the Ball two years earlier, and then at Ty Lee's wedding. She would, surely, have intended to find a new one for their own wedding…
He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes as tears surged in them, before fishing out the ornamental combs and holding them close to his chest. No, perhaps it wasn't much… perhaps it was silly to take this with him, but it was Song's. It was one way to remember not only the woman he loved… but the promises they had made, promises he had never wanted to break. Perhaps one day, still, they could be fulfilled… but the darker this situation became, the less likely that possibility felt. He had certainly failed his precepts as a Royal and Imperial Guard: so much for not experiencing emotional attachment that might get in the way of his work…
"Oh! Rui Shi, there's…! There's a bird here!"
Fei Li's voice startled Rui Shi. His eyes widened, and he tucked the combs in his pockets before making his way downstairs once more. Fei Li stood in one of the scarcely used rooms downstairs, with Hawky perched on his gloved arm.
"He… has a message, I guess" said Fei Li, grimacing "I suppose it's… meant for him?"
"No" Rui Shi whispered, lowering his gaze "It's… it's meant for her. For Song"
Fei Li's eyes widened: Rui Shi ignored his reaction as he reached for the hawk, releasing the letter from its cylinder. It was meant for Song… but sending Hawky to Song's current location would be ill advised. If the bird were intercepted on its way to its destination, her hiding place would be revealed immediately… he breathed deeply, frowning with determination.
"I… I'll see to sending her this message, eventually. I'll make sure it reaches her, one way or another" he decided "Not yet, but… one day. For now, though…"
For now, Myeung needed to know the truth. She needed to know her daughter was in danger… and that she wouldn't be able to talk with her for some time.
"It's her mom?" Fei Li ventured a guess "You… you'll ask her to watch over the bird, I figure? I can't say I know where this whole mess will take any of us, so…"
"Indeed" Rui Shi said, closing his eyes "I'll… I'll write her a letter. It's a good idea, Fei Li"
"Right" said Fei Li, smiling weakly as Rui Shi breathed out, stepping outside the room to compose that message indeed.
Everything in the house would hurt Rui Shi, Fei Li suspected… he hadn't even brought up that he'd found a ton of food in the kitchen, all of which would come in handy if they took it to the Barge with them. Fei Li couldn't help but wonder if knowing he'd be able to taste Song's meals one last time might break his leader's heart. To think the man was working so hard for his Princess, when his own love had been taken from him as a consequence of this catastrophe… and yet he kept fighting. His strength was incredible, admirable, as far as Fei Li could tell… but if he ever felt it was failing him, Fei Li would be right there to pick up where Rui Shi left off. He never thought he'd be half the leader Rui Shi had proven to be… but today, he was more ready than ever to follow on his footsteps.
The balloon wouldn't be filled and ready for another ten minutes: by then, Rui Shi would have finished composing a hasty, trembling letter meant for Myeung, and Fei Li would have collected all the useful goods he could gather – he even gathered some of Sokka's belongings, in the hopeful, optimistic case that he might survive… and in the heartbreaking awareness that, if he didn't, the Princess might have very few things left to remember him by. Another shadow streaked across the city before the hot-air balloon did, though.
He hadn't been seen in the city for several days, adding to the strange, eerie atmosphere spreading across the Capital ever since the Gladiator League had been abolished unceremoniously. Perhaps the dragon's shape could have felt like a return to normalcy for the people whose eyes caught sight of it, the many onlookers who gasped in delight at the dragon's presence, but that unsettling sensation that had been permeating the city only seemed to increase because of its return.
"W-where… where is it going?" a man whispered, standing by the window of his study: was it moving in the direction of the Grand Royal Dome?
He hadn't been able to jot down a single word after his employment had ended abruptly, just as the League had. Haiyan had tried to encourage him: he already had made a name for himself, and many people found his writing to be valuable… but Yang's confusion, his anguish over whatever was happening at the Palace, in the throes of power, hadn't receded in the least, no matter if his professional life wasn't as bleak now as it had been long ago.
He wasn't the only suddenly unemployed man who found a mix of hope and confusion in the dragon's presence: Shoji gasped, rushing back inside the house to share what he'd seen with Ran, Ty Lee and Haru.
"Is Azula riding him?" Ty Lee asked, anxiously, as she ran to the backyard, where Shoji had glimpsed Xin Long "Shoji, can you see…?"
"N-no, he's too far away!" Shoji admitted, gritting his teeth as they stepped outside the building, gazing at the creature as he crossed the skies at a great distance from the ground "But… I don't know, I don't know where it's going, or what's it doing, I… I just saw it and thought I'd let you know!"
The end of the Gladiator League hadn't been quite so devastating for Ty Lee and Haru: his new job had moved along successfully so far, and their household's economy wouldn't have hinged on his gladiatorial battles alone anymore. Still, it had been too sudden, too unexpected… and upon attempting to visit Azula, Ty Lee had been quick to turn on her heels and return home after catching sight of Domestic Forces soldiers, berating and even beating up anyone who was caught anywhere within the Palace's vicinity, or the Grand Royal Dome's, without any permission to be there. She'd heard, shortly afterwards, that many people had been taken into custody for protesting against the Fire Lord's decision. She had heard, too, that the League was but collateral damage for something else brewing deep in the bowels of the nation's political core… but so far, no one seemed to know what it was.
Ty Lee, however, had an unsettling guess as to what it could have been. To this moment, she was too terrified by the possibility to do anything to confirm her suspicions.
But rumors were spreading nonetheless, whether wild, unreasonable or realistic: the city was abuzz with suspicion and fear. And as many people watched the dragon crossing the sky, most of them were caught off guard when the loud blasting noise of an explosion rocked the city anew.
An ominous cloud of dust and smoke rose in the distance… in the direction of the Grand Royal Dome.
That the League was at its end seemed to have encouraged the rather destructive combustion bender to blow up the stand-by room's golden gate. That his actions would startle and even scare others within the building hadn't bothered him in the slightest: the set of his shoulders, the fierceness of his stance, the cruelty in his glare, all spoke for themselves regarding how powerful his killer intent was.
None of which reassured Fire Lord Ozai in the least.
"That… that brute" he growled, his hand tightening over the golden banister of his balcony "Does he even remember he's not meant to kill the bastard?"
Deep down, Ozai knew it wouldn't matter who delivered the killing blow so long as someone did… but the willful disregarding of his orders wouldn't sit well with him, the outcome notwithstanding. If Zhao's damn gladiator decided to take his execution all the way, Ozai would ensure his likely return to his old line of duty as an assassin wouldn't go quite so smoothly, perhaps by having a certain other assassin do away with competition… it would be the least this Combustion Man would deserve for disobeying the Fire Lord's direct orders.
But then the grid at the other end of the building collapsed, too: it wasn't as violent or as destructive, but it was no less effective: Ozai's jaw clenched when the unbound, bruised and battered Blue Wolf stepped into the sand. A visceral, uncontrollable hatred surged within the Fire Lord's gut upon gazing at that armored fighter: he had been a fool to agree to Zhao's damn scheme, for sure. Why on earth had he? Even if Combustion Man would certainly defeat the bastard, it would give Ozai no peace of mind, no tranquility, to let anyone else even come close to murdering him. He should be the one to inflict death upon that gladiator, the one who had dishonored his daughter shamelessly. Even now, the scum attempted to face death with dignity he'd never had in the first place…
Why? He couldn't stop asking himself that question. Why would she ever develop any attachment, any feelings, for that fool? Why would she let her life lose its direction for him? Why was she so ready to risk anything and everything for someone so unworthy of her…?
He didn't understand, and he didn't intend to understand, either: once the Blue Wolf was close to the center of the ring, an impulsive, overpowering urge tore through Ozai's remaining rational thinking:
"BEGIN, NOW!"
His voice echoed across the building, and Sokka tensed up as soon as he heard it: his eyes narrowed with hatred, with the keen need to fight the man who'd spoken, rather than the one who was taking in a sharp breath right now.
He had to jump out of the way, he knew he did: but as nimble as he had once been, a body covered in wounds of varying magnitudes would never be as effective at responding as a fully healthy one.
When the very first explosion set off, his body was flung across the air, stumbling on the sand and rolling across it, his ears ringing, his chest short of breath.
"No…! No!" a voice accompanied by no shortage of whimpers and gasps wasn't strong enough to be heard down below in the wake of that explosion, but Azula couldn't even tell she was speaking aloud as she watched, in desperation, as the man she loved was unable to avoid the blast that had cast him in a parabolic flight across the Arena.
He landed close to the wall, but not close enough for the spikes to impale him this time. He'd received damage, there was no denying that… but at least, he should be able to retain his mobility, his ability to fight back, to some degree.
Azula found no relief, though, once he pushed himself back to his feet: he was trembling, breathing with difficulty, hardly in any position to retain his footing. He had been too wounded already, he was in the worst possible shape… and his enemy was already gearing up for yet another explosion.
"RUN!" Azula shrieked, and this time her voice did break through the explosion, through the distance… all the way to Sokka's ears.
What a beautiful voice it was, and how unbefitting was that tone of desperation in it. Sokka snarled: to think anyone had caused her that much strife, enough that she would scream that way… curse them all. Curse everyone who had any hand in bringing them here, today, to where they were.
As rebellious as he ever had been, he abided by Azula's counsel: he used as much power as he could muster to push himself to a sprint, running to the side, just before another ruthless explosion blasted behind him: was the man's power that potent from the get-go? Had his explosions felt this massive, this brutal, when he'd fought Toph? Perhaps they had, perhaps his perception of the battle and his opponent's skills were skewed now that he was in the ring along with him…
Up in the sponsors' balcony, though, Zhao frowned with uncertainty: no, Combustion Man didn't attack this way on every fight. He did it today because he was liberated from having to fight with caution so as to not cause Zhao trouble by blowing up the stands and killing thousands in the process… and also because he was facing the only opponent he'd ever acknowledged as a hazard in the entire League.
Such was the viciousness of his attacks that, instead of escaping through the Blue Wolf's much safer stand-by room, Shaofeng snuck carefully, cautiously, towards the collapsed hallway the combustion bender had left in his wake. If he was careful, the massive bender wouldn't be likely to attack him if he slipped past him, would he?
Combustion Man turned his sharp glare upon him after the second of his explosions had detonated and failed to reach its mark. Shaofeng flinched, fearful that the third eye would aim its next attack towards him… but the lack of sharp intakes of breath suggested the man was giving him a silent warning: leave now or be obliterated.
For a man who prized his life and ambitions as much as the General of the Guards did, there was no choice to be made.
By the time he had scurried away, dodging crumbling debris and leaping over that which had already tumbled to the ground, Sokka had managed to stay on his feet, breathing heavily as he reached for his boomerang. Combustion Man's head turned towards him once again mere instants before Sokka launched the weapon rapidly: another intake of breath, and Sokka ran to the left… only to change directions quickly once the man released his breath and blew up the location Sokka had feinted he'd be moving towards.
The boomerang soared at full speed towards the tall gladiator: he raised his right hand, however, protecting his face with the steel obstacle no boomerang would cut through. Sokka snarled, dashing forth to snatch up the weapon that fell on the sand before the next explosion came after him.
Combustion Man allowed him no quarter, no chances to breathe, to ease up, to slow down and unravel a better plan other than the impulsive ideas that were constantly saving his life so far: close combat, Sokka knew, would be his better choice, but how to even come close when the opponent shot explosion after explosion in his direction? Even when he always managed to jump out of the way, the external flames of the explosions still reached him, scorching his waistcloth, batting against his armor until he'd put enough distance between himself and the area of the ring Combustion Man had just blasted. Such a shame, though, that Shaofeng had gotten away, Sokka thought… if only he could've finished off that bastard for Azula, he would've already felt this damn battle had been worth it.
But perhaps there would yet be other ways to succeed at that: Sokka's eyes narrowed as a plan, akin to that of his very first battle in the Ember Crater, came to mind.
He dashed to the right, away from the sponsors' balcony – if only the royal one weren't right above that one, he'd be delighted to use this new plan to do away with Ozai as well. He refused to put Azula in risk, though… so instead, he dashed in the opposite direction, uncertain of where Shaofeng would be right now, but willing to wreak enough havoc through Combustion Man to either cause the General plenty of strife or, hopefully, kill him altogether.
The next explosion nearly caught Sokka, but he leapt at the last moment, rolling across the sand as the blast hit the spiked wall… and the stands beyond it, too. It was yet another highly destructive explosion that would have cost even more money to amend than the still broken ceiling that wouldn't see any repairs anymore. Sokka jumped back on his feet, doing his best to ignore the burning feeling of his old injuries, as well as the dull ache of his bruises whenever his skin brushed against his own armor. Where he had found himself in perfect comfort inside that breastplate in the past, now every movement was a chore, every attempt to hinder and exhaust his opponent only seemed to be in detriment of his own stamina and strength. He could only hope his latest efforts had had resulted in more debris collapsing and damaging the accursed General he despised so deeply.
While he ran recklessly, tirelessly, Combustion Man scarcely moved, unsurprisingly: Sokka lacked the power Toph had in spades to destabilize the grounds underneath the enemy's feet. His long-range attacks would struggle to reach the man, too. So far, this was less than a cat-and-mouse chase, and the winner would be the one who surrendered first… as willful and determined as Sokka might be, he wasn't sure he'd be resilient enough to withstand this assault of combustive explosions for longer than Combustion Man could sustain it.
But he wasn't completely out of options just yet. It was only a matter of unraveling how to best make use of his weapons… and how to take advantage of Combustion Man's obvious superiority, turning his confidence against him when he least expected it.
Sokka breathed out before casting his boomerang one more time: he raced in the opposite direction as the weapon, reaching for another one within his clothes to attack Combustion Man…
Only for the man to blast the boomerang out of its trajectory, and then turn his head to do the same to Sokka.
He only had a moment to raise and pull at the disperser's valve before being blasted off violently with one more explosion.
"SOKKA!"
Zhao had to seize Azula's shoulder when he feared she'd leap off the balcony: the Princess slapped his hand away forcefully, not even willing to cast him a furious glare as she stared at the ball of fire that receded slowly, far too slowly…
To reveal Sokka had dropped on the sand, still breathing heavily, his helmet blasted off his head, his limbs twitching and almost unmoving.
"Sokka…!" Azula repeated, gritting her teeth as the tears she could no longer contain streamed down her face.
Oh, the world was spinning for the gladiator, and the only thing he could feel was the sand underneath him, and the fire upon him. It took him a moment to realize he wasn't truly on fire, not anymore… but the flames had certainly done a number on him, burning the bandages of his forearms, and more of his waistcloth, even some of the leather fastenings that kept his forearm guards in place. Again, his brain seemed to be buzzing, and he couldn't get ahold of himself any longer… curses, he'd die that simply, that easily, without even knowing if he'd achieved a damn thing to help Azula. Any moment now, Combustion Man would strike, a final attack to do away with him completely…
Or perhaps Ozai would come down to the ring, to finish Sokka himself.
That, he thought, would be a good idea. Yes… he would be pleased if that happened. For he knew, as soon as he saw that man's face, he'd find the strength he needed to draw out his sword and run him through, just as he had with Rhone…
Hopes of killing the Fire Lord who had caused so much damage to the world, who had proven himself completely willing to destroy his daughter to punish her disobedience, sufficed for Sokka to stir, to snarl, to find strength he had lacked and rise to a sitting position. He'd stand in a moment, yes, as soon as possible, and even if it took his very last breath, he'd set Azula free…
The lack of a final blow by Combustion Man only struck him as odd when too much time passed without its arrival. His unfocused eyes found the man's large shape after a moment, and his brow drew together in confusion: he was crouched in place, shaking his head violently, hissing, slapping his own face.
A sharp intake of breath… and the man only invoked a sputter of sparks that died out, mere moments after he called for them.
The disperser had worked.
Azula nearly yelped in the balcony upon confirming the new weapon Sokka had devised had paid off: Combustion Man had to be struggling with the same groggy feeling she'd experienced in the Northern Air Temple, that strange, vague vacancy that rendered her unable to control even her facial expressions. Combustion Man, though, seemed to be strong enough to overcome that part of the disperser's effect: he was too large. He was at least twice Azula's height, and the Princess suspected he hadn't inhaled the whole thing. Still… it was a chance. Perhaps the only chance Sokka would get.
"SOKKA!" she roared, with a certainty, an intensity of purpose that had been absent in her previous screams "DO IT AGAIN!"
Her voice echoed through his mind, calling for him, a beacon that he could only reach for intuitively. She was his salvation, had been for a long time… and his heart soared to hear her again, however many times he might still hear her voice in what would be the last of his days.
Do it again, though… she meant he had to spray another disperser at the man. Perhaps, if he did, he'd be able to take him down.
If he succeeded, he would still defend Azula's pride and honor, and together, they might just be able to fight back against Ozai's designs.
"Yes… yes, my Princess…" he said, with a small smile he hadn't known he had any strength to evoke anymore.
He rose to his feet as Combustion Man roared, far from him: the man threw forward his left fist, evoking a very light flame, one Sokka might be able to do away with if he used just another disperser, once he was ready to make his move. Then, his sword would finish the man, and then he'd go through anyone who might yet try to stand between him and Azula… that is, if she didn't do away with them first.
"You…" he said, putting forth as much power as he could so his voice could go further, as far as it could… "You said you'd never drop me!"
Where his words had, at first, seemed to be posed as a threat against Combustion Man, their connotation became clear at once. In the royal balcony, Ozai snarled fiercely: right below him, the tears in Azula's eyes, gaining a hint of hope, couldn't help but run down her cheeks at the sound of his voice.
"And I…! I will always catch you!" Sokka roared, with far more power than before.
"SILENCE!" Ozai shouted, ferociously "Don't speak another word, you filthy savage…!"
"I will always fight for you!" Sokka continued, willfully disregarding Ozai's vitriolic shouting, which only worsened after his new words: but Sokka's eyes finally could focus on the aghast expression across the most beautiful face he had ever seen in his life. Trembling in anticipation and dread alike, he poured his heart out, disregarding the Fire Lord's savage screaming: "Until my last breath… I live for you, Azula!"
"YOU WILL DIE, DISHONORABLE SCUM! YOU WON'T LIVE A DAY LONGER!" Ozai roared: whether he understood any of Sokka's words underneath his own shouting, it was unclear for everyone "YOU ARE UNWORTHY OF YOUR VERY EXISTENCE! DESTROY HIM, NOW!"
Suddenly, his determination to have Sokka killed by his own hand had gone missing, replaced by an irrational fury that overcame every restraint the Fire Lord might have ever abided by. No doubt, that Sokka seemed no more daunted by his furious words than by being blown to smithereens by Combustion Man didn't appease Ozai's wrath in the least: it was as though the gladiator had closed his heart and mind to anything but the woman he gazed at right now, whose every shout to her gladiator had seen Ozai snarling in fury…
He hissed, storming towards the entrance of his balcony: the guards in place there tensed up immediately.
"Tell those fools downstairs to contain Azula! At once!" he hissed "She won't speak another word to that savage in my presence, or she will face dire consequences for it!"
That there was no worse punishment to his daughter than the current circumstances didn't seem to matter to Ozai at all: he'd think of something when the time came, of course he would. Perhaps this was, indeed, the worst he could do to her… but he didn't intend to ease up on punishing her, no matter how heartbroken she would be once the accursed fool who claimed to live for her was nothing but a pile of charred bones and ashes.
Said accursed fool, however, had his own ideas on how this battle would turn out. He raised a hand towards the sword that hung on his back, and the other yanked out another of the dispersers: Combustion Man was still attempting to bend, and Sokka had no intentions of giving him a chance to do so successfully.
He started with a weak walk, that soon morphed into a powerful stride. Once he was close enough, once he reached him…!
Sokka raised the disperser, aiming it at Combustion Man's face, only for the opponent to take a deep breath. Sokka snarled as he reached to release the valve anew…
Only for the metal hand he'd cut off once to slap the weapon off his hands.
Sokka stumbled at the sudden, obvious counter against his new move… but he was close enough. Just one slice across the man's gut would be…
A weak, firebending-powered punch struck him square in the face. Sokka gasped, pulling away from the tight fist just as Combustion Man raised his right foot, slamming it upon the disperser Sokka had failed to unleash on him. The non-bender snarled: he needed to be more careful, otherwise…
Combustion Man marched up towards him, his dark eyes glowing with killer intent.
Sokka jumped, pulling away as hastily as he dared, but Combustion Man appeared to have decided the best way to fight off the chi-blocking was by continuing to exercise his strength. Weakened as he was, the effect of the block was fading… and it meant he would soon be able to set off massive explosions against Sokka again.
The Blue Wolf snarled, unwilling to let this devolve into yet another chase where he was a helpless victim. He turned mid-sprint, swinging his black sword towards the enemy, but Combustion Man had already faced Space Sword before – he knew better than to allow the edge to reach him. As Sokka attempted to attack him, to take the initiative now, Combustion Man leveled another sharp glare at him, and he took in a deep breath.
The momentum was too strong with the latest of Sokka's lunges: the explosion was small, but it still went off powerfully enough to force Sokka back. The Blue Wolf gasped: strands of hair fell upon his vision, as his wolf's tail was slowly unraveling, as a consequence of Combustion Man's violent fighting style. That new explosion had been unexpected, worrisome: he needed to make proper use of his last disperser. Only then would he be able to defeat Combustion Man… otherwise, the only way the man would be defeated would be if Sokka somehow dragged him to the next life with him.
He tried to dash quickly, erratically, to surprise the firebender and force him to launch attacks in the wrong directions. Again, he considered guiding Combustion Man into attacking the whole building, tearing everything apart… he'd have done it so much more willfully if only Azula weren't in that balcony. Her presence was both a blessing and a curse, distracting and helping him focus on equal measure: this was the culmination of a partnership that had lasted almost half a decade. Whatever mistakes he'd made so far, he refused to make more of them today. He owed it to her… he owed it to her.
As Combustion Man fell for Sokka's feints, the Blue Wolf had the chance to set in motion another plan: when he tossed one projectile at Combustion Man, the enemy blasted it mercilessly… unleashing a storm of stench and smoke across the sand.
Sokka breathed deeply before the cloud from his smoke bomb affected him. He dashed around it at first, before plunging inside it once he was far enough from Combustion Man: he would either still be within the thick cloud, swatting the stench away, or he would be attempting to make a run for it. One way or another, Sokka should be able to catch him before he was the wiser, and by then…
Another sudden explosion flung Sokka off his feet.
The impact against the sand caused him to lose his breath once more, and he wound up inhaling the unpleasant smoke he was usually so resilient against: his head swum, his bile rose to his throat, and his empty stomach threatened to upend over that dreadful concoction he'd stirred himself, long ago.
He rolled onto his stomach, crawling away from it: he'd wasted that chance, but another should come. He still had two more smoke bombs left and, bereft of that…
He cringed as he realized he'd frequently fallen on the red bombs across the fight, whenever he landed on his back. It was fortunate he'd chosen to keep them hidden… but if they set off over any of Combustion Man's sparks, he'd likely burn alive, and alone, by his own weapons' doing. He needed to avoid this… to continue facing the fire directly, and never allow it to hit his back. It was entirely possible that the Mechanist had built a perfectly safe sphere model… but he would be better off not testing that resilience right now.
He had to take down Combustion Man, it was what things boiled down to, and he still had two bombs left to achieve that.
With far more strength than he knew he had left, he rose to his feet and drew out another bomb: Combustion Man was already outside the cloud, struggling to catch his breath. Yes, this would do well as a solution too: didn't Azula say that breathing was essential for a firebender's power? The less Combustion Man could breathe, the better Sokka's odds would be. If it backfired on him in some ways, he'd endure it… as long as he could reduce the risk Combustion Man embodied, he'd do anything… including filling the entire Arena with unbearable stench.
He flung the bomb towards Combustion Man as powerfully as he could: the man breathed and attacked it as it remained in mid-air… but the smoke wouldn't simply linger suspended in midair, as much as he hoped otherwise. It fell upon him before long, and once again, he had no choice but to run for cover, for fresh air, rushing anywhere but the area where the product of those bombs lingered.
There was no doubt Combustion Man still had the better odds… but no one had expected Sokka's weapons would keep the murderous bender on his toes, not even Sokka himself. He had always intended to fight at his best… he had thought it wouldn't be enough. That it might be, though, fueled his fire and urged him to keep fighting, no matter how Ozai continued to yell at Combustion Man to finish the job, to tear him to shreds or whatever he was saying now. Sokka was tempted to collect his boomerang solely to toss it at him, but a whim like that wouldn't help him win this battle. He could ponder how to attack Ozai after this fight was done, surely, if he managed to finish it successfully…
He ran towards Combustion Man, his last disperser in hand again. The large man was struggling to get out of the smoke cloud, still shaking off the effects of the chemical chi-blocking, and now fighting against air itself, it seemed. He was furious: how difficult could it be to kill a single non-bender? Why was he making it so difficult when the outcome was inevitable? Why would he fight as though he had any chance for victory when his life had been forfeit from the moment he had displeased the Fire Lord?
Never before had he faced a gladiator who would cling to life so powerfully – no, not desperately, desperation was something he had seen many times as it was, but power… that was a whole other matter. That this gladiator would roar fiercely as he raised his accursed weapon anew, angling it towards Combustion Man, showed he was determined to win, not just to survive, but to win, when it should have been impossible for the likes of him… when Combustion Man had been certain that it would be impossible indeed, if they ever fought one-on-one properly. No one, not even that clever earthbender, had caused him serious trouble before. But this gladiator, even without the firebending sword he'd wielded in the past, had so many resources under his sleeve it was uncanny. It was almost a shame that he'd have to die that day… almost.
Combustion Man's hand reached out to seize Sokka's own. The Blue Wolf whimpered as the man's powerful grip tightened around his wrist… then, he took to slamming his metal prosthetic into the breastplate, all be it to force the condemned man to loosen his grip on the very weapon he had been about to trigger. Sokka flinched as his armor became a hindrance: it squeezed his battered body, it crashed against his wounds… he gritted his teeth, trying to bear with it, knowing he wouldn't be strong enough to hold that disperser longer… but perhaps he didn't need to hold it. Perhaps all he needed to do was let go…
One more blow, and he couldn't hold on any longer: his hand released the weapon… but only enough so his fingers could tighten on the valve instead, and he tugged it loose.
The components of the chi-blocking composite rained upon them both.
Sokka did his best not to inhale them, but his body was too weakened, his strength faltering even before he walked out into this battle: a small, impulsive intake was all it took for his body to feel numb.
Fortunately, Combustion Man was far less practiced with holding his breath than Sokka was: he released him immediately, but when he attempted to kick at the Blue Wolf, his metal foot didn't respond: he couldn't raise his knee, try as though he might. He coughed, trying to do away with the substance, but it seemed to be everywhere, and his body wouldn't move easily…
And neither would his opponent.
Sokka fell to his knees, struggling to crawl away from the substance before daring breathe again. Combustion Man was in no better shape than him, which was good news for now… but only for now. He was down to no dispersers, to a single smoke bomb… and to the last six secret weapons he'd do best not to showcase yet. Most his other weapons weren't much use against a fighter he could scarcely ever get close to, a thought that brought him to crawl, purposefully, towards the stench-afflicted area his boomerang had fallen at. He breathed that nauseous smell with difficulty, but he welcomed that disgusting odor over the weakening of his body. If that concoction had been enough to break Combustion Man for a moment, it was certainly strong enough to bring him down too, badly wounded and with faded strength as he was.
That Sokka would be able to keep their fight in a stalemate was certainly not what anyone had braced themselves for: Zhao watched in disbelief as his gladiator remained perched in place, unable to walk away from the overpowering substance in that bomb, as well as the chi-blocking one in the disperser. He impulsively wanted to ask what was in it, how on earth had Sokka managed to craft a weapon that powerful… only to reel back the impulse at the sight of the Princess's desperate, tear-streaked face. She would answer no questions… she would answer to no one, not even the guards who had just stopped by to warn her she shouldn't speak to her gladiator at all. She hadn't even heard them, Zhao suspected.
Now the battle's outcome, it seemed, would be determined by whoever overcame the chi-blocking faster. Sokka had managed to reach his boomerang at last, sheathing it for now as he breathed with difficulty, crawling on the heated sand, his face close to that grainy terrain he had resented so much. He'd fought in it so many times over the years… he'd endured so much pain and chagrin in the Amateur Arena, ever hoping for death, for any kind of release from that hell. And he'd gained that release… he had been given a new life to make with whatever he wished. He had no longer needed to kill for a living… and he had felt so liberated once that nightmare seemed to be behind him.
He could have felt as though he was back in square one now, but the truth was that he didn't. This was exactly where he needed to be this time. He no longer saw his position as a gladiator as a mere insult to a true warrior… he no longer found it lacking in honor, as he had when his journey had begun. Honor… he had talked about it with Piandao, long ago, not knowing what his old master was referring to, not understanding what he was trying to convey through their conversations about the matter. As far as he could tell back then, being a gladiator was demeaning… as far as he had understood it before, he had been fighting on the whims of a young woman who, as fascinating as she could be, was dangerous, unpredictable and impossible to trust.
As he grew to understand her, to care for her, to love her, his stance on his title, on his role in her life, changed without his awareness. From wanting nothing but to see his life as a gladiator ending as soon as possible, whether with his death or any other release from the dreary business, he had become so fiercely passionate about defending Azula he had fought tooth and nail to stay by her side, even defeating superior fighters just to stay with her, for as long as possible. From thinking of going home, even in fear of what his people might say if they saw him again, he had grown to believe he had a place in this world… and that place was right beside her.
That was what it meant to be a gladiator. Where he had started fighting only for himself, he had taken to fighting for Azula, to putting his whole heart, body, mind and soul into defeating every foe she couldn't fight herself. There was no shame to be found in his duty to her, he knew, as he lay on that warm sand, with tears pouring from his eyes. Even if his life ended now, even if he failed to defeat Combustion Man – and he had no intentions of allowing that to happen without dragging him with him –, with every new day he'd spent by Azula's side he had come to understand his purpose, to embrace it fully. He was at peace with that truth… he was devoted to defending it, too: he chose to give her his everything, and he had lived by that vow indeed, for even longer than he'd realized he did.
He struggled, but he tightened a fist and pushed himself to sit up: the sand was stained with his tears, just as his clothes were covered in scorch marks. He steeled himself with one breath, then another, then another…
And then he raised his gaze to the sponsors' balcony.
She stood there, desperate, gazing at him with such pure affection his heart broke just to see her. His face offered her a mild, sad smile, as Azula's shoulders shook with her sobs.
"Y-you have… to come back to me…!" she said, and only a shred of her voice could reach him right then and there "You swore…! Sokka…!"
The guards behind her attempted to warn her into silence again… only for Zhao to grunt menacingly, raising a hand to tell them to stand down.
"B-but the Fire Lord…"
"The Fire Lord will get what he wants. Leave her be" Zhao hissed: he could say that with conviction if he pleased, but truthfully, he wasn't all that sure that a man who had reduced his gladiator to a trembling heap of impotent wrath would be so easily defeated, let alone killed…
Azula shivered, gazing at Sokka through misty eyes: he was in one of the worst shapes she'd ever seen him in, no matter how many times she had nursed him to health. His skin sported so many burns and bruises that his natural skin tone was hidden away underneath them. He looked so tired, so broken… but she knew he wasn't, not truly. His eyes, no matter how tearful they might be as well, were ever a window of determination, of that rebelliousness she had once chided him for, but that she had eternally admired in him, even without her awareness.
That man, who had been willing to do anything for his people, now was willing to do anything for her. She had earned his loyalty… she had earned his love. And she'd be damned if she'd let both of them go to waste when she treasured him as deeply as she did.
Sokka raised a hand slowly, so very slowly, in her direction: the same gesture he'd done after his fight against Toph, reaching for her, no matter if she was too far away. Connecting their hearts, their souls, making their bond so real, so tangible, that even if he was down below, and she was high above, it was as though they were meeting in the middle once Azula raised her own hand towards him, desperate, longing to reach for him.
"I… I will always be with you," he said, softly. Azula's tears ran down her cheeks faster yet, more than anything because she hadn't heard his words this time.
"Sokka…!" she gasped, her desperation to reach for him was tinged with a horrifying guilt she couldn't shake off: all those wounds, all this misery… her recklessness had led them here, and yet he almost seemed grateful for it. He seemed to believe it was only right to face all this anguish directly, to fight for their love even if it might cost him his very life, his many promises, everything that had ever mattered to them…
If this was the last she'd ever see of him, she would never be able to continue living with the knowledge of having failed him.
A sudden blast startled the gladiator: Sokka winced, lowering his hand and using it to push himself up to his feet. His eyes, blurry as they were, sought Combustion Man, to find he was triggering small explosions, within close range, much smaller than before. But he had risen to his feet, and going by that ferocious fury in his expression, he was out for blood.
Sokka huffed, taking his last smoke bomb and nodding in Combustion Man's direction, a menacing taunt he knew the man would rise to.
"Come and get it" he growled, his eyes aglow with resolve.
Combustion Man raced towards Sokka far more clumsily than expected: his metal foot helped him keep his bearing, while the other wobbled awkwardly, still shaking off the chi-blocking for the second time. Sokka roared once the man was close enough, and he tossed the latest smoke bomb: again, it was met by an explosion, and this time Sokka breathed deeply before shielding his face from the blast.
Smoke poured everywhere, and the two gladiators were quick to put distance between themselves and that rising, dark cloud. It gave them both the chances, the strength, to regain their mobility – or as much of it as they could reclaim, in Sokka's case. Once again, they stood close to the entrances of their respective stand-by rooms: somehow, Sokka knew neither of them would leave through either the collapsed passageway or the torn grid on that day. This was the very last moment he had left… the very last chance to fight back before the worst could come to pass.
Combustion Man breathed deeply once, twice, and then after the third breath, he took off through the smoke. Sokka gritted his teeth, bracing himself to jump away from the upcoming explosion… but it didn't arrive.
Instead, a powerful fist coated in flames came his way. Combustion Man, unwilling to trust his own explosions anymore, had elected a more direct approach instead.
Where he'd held back for years, refraining from using the full, destructive power of Space Sword, there was no point in containing himself today: the black blade swung towards Combustion Man's fist… and cleaved it in half.
Combustion Man's voice was seldom heard… but this time, the cry had poured out of him as soon as the burst of pain shook his body. He had never expected to lose further limbs in battle, after his accidents in his youth… but before he could jump away from the Blue Wolf, Sokka had roared along with the man's desperate screams, slicing across the upper arm: the limb fell heavily, sloppily, in a bloody heap upon the ground.
Sokka gritted his teeth, unwilling to look at the carnage he'd weaved, when Combustion Man, in a fit of fury, released a powerful, short-range explosion anew: Sokka couldn't brace himself, he could barely cling to his sword as he flew off towards that stand-by room…
He hit the wall right above it, fortunately devoid of spikes… unfortunately, so solid his head might have snapped off his neck violently if his armor hadn't kept it in place as it slammed into the solid wall. He lost his breath, his strength, his thoughts, even his eyesight turned fully black as he dropped on the sand anew, letting go of his sword as the world lost focus…
"SOKKA!"
That voice… that voice kept calling for him. He couldn't lose now, not now, not when he was so close…
"GET UP! SOKKA, PLEASE…!"
"SILENCE YOURSELF, AZULA!"
"SOKKA! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, PLEASE…!"
He twitched, managing to tighten his grip on his sword before he heard Combustion Man breathing again. Sokka gritted his teeth and rolled across the sand: the explosion still caught him, flinging him now to the left, to land against the length of a spike, then the next one saw him slammed against the wall anew, and as much as he tried to shrink in place, to let his armor take the brunt of the fire, he could barely hold on any longer.
"SOKKA!"
No, no, no. He had to… he had to keep going, for her. Not for himself, for her. Everything had always been for her. No matter if he was the smoking husk of a walking corpse… he had to keep going. He had to defeat Combustion Man, no matter the cost.
Blood leaked from his injuries, the one he'd received from his fight against Toph had broken open again. The slamming against the walls had done nothing for his health either, and his scalp was no doubt covered in blood by now after his head had crashed into solid rock so many times. Everything was so unfocused… everything but that voice:
"SOKKA!"
He rose to his feet with strength he hadn't known he had in him, still clinging to his sword… but no longer intending to use it. To everyone's utter confusion, he sheathed it instead, with slow, clumsy movements as he struggled to even stand where he was… he had proven most fortunate, of course, that the furious Combustion Man was losing his own battle against his sudden, serious injury: the behemoth breathed with difficulty, stumbling, certainly afflicted by the massive loss of blood through his newly severed limb.
There was no way… there was no way Sokka would let that man live for another day. No way he'd allow him to continue serving Ozai through Zhao… no way he'd let his purposeless violence to reign supreme anymore. He had found the man so unpleasant when he had first seen him fight… that sensation hadn't dwindled at all, to this day. He still despised Combustion Man… and he'd never had a stronger reason to do away with him than he did today.
Even at the cost of his own life.
To think of all he'd managed to achieve… to think of the heights he'd reached. To think he had friends who appreciated him, who cherished him for who he was. To think there were people who admired him, utter strangers who barely knew him, but who chose to believe he was worth looking up to anyway. To think he'd gone toe to toe with royalty and never backed down, to think he'd earned the respect of many who had never intended to offer any of it to him. To think his family had wanted him home, despite his mistakes. To think he had ever earned the genuine love of an extraordinary woman who saw in him far more value and worth than he'd ever believed he had…
It had been a grand life. A far better one than he had ever dared dream he'd live. Perhaps he had failed to topple the Fire Lord's rule by his own hand… perhaps he had broken many promises he'd never wanted to shatter. Perhaps he had made mistakes he never should have… but it had been a journey he could only cherish fully right now, closing his eyes as he allowed the faces of all his loved ones to cross his mind… above all, of one very special loved one, the only one who could see him now, at his last moments.
He swallowed hard, letting the tears tumble down his burned, bruised, blood-soaked face before slipping his hands towards his back…
Another bomb? Azula gazed at him desperately, unsure that would be enough, not when Combustion Man was in such a wrathful frenzy, however heavily injured he might be. But when she noticed that Sokka had pulled out more than one bomb, her entire body froze over.
Her heart seemed to stop: the bombs' containers were red.
"NO! SOKKA, DON'T DO IT! SOKKA, DON'T! SOKKA!" she screamed: this time, her alarming shouts didn't result in simply a furious rebuke from her father, or a compassionate acceptance of Zhao's: this time both men frowned at her sudden, different kind of urgency… at whatever it might have suggested her gladiator was about to do.
That urgency reached the mind of a creature, high above in the sky: Xin Long had positioned himself above the Grand Royal Dome carefully, following the events through his rider's mind rather than by what little he could see from a distance. It even reached the hot-air balloon that hovered uncharacteristically close to the Grand Royal Dome, scouring it from above: Rui Shi's eyes widened as he and Fei Li maneuvered the vehicle towards the building, a sense of dread rising quickly within his gut upon hearing the distant echo of his charge's scream.
They'd only just managed to hover all the way here, uncertain of how they'd be of any help, but knowing they'd have to do something, even if just distract the combustion bender and give Sokka a chance to survive and escape. They finally caught sight of what was happening within the building when the dragon took to one of his remarkably fast dives: Xin Long sent a message to Azula's mind, an urgent one that he feared she might ignore, and if she did, it would cost all their lives rather than just Sokka's…
At that warning, the Princess's sudden desperation was paralyzed. Just so, her lover, as distant from her as he was in the sand pit, gazed in her direction with a heartfelt, weakened smile when the wrathful, fierce Combustion Man readied himself to attack him anew…
He mouthed three words to her. Or perhaps he spoke them, but so far away as he was, Azula couldn't hear his voice, even if she knew them by heart:
"I love you"
He cast the six bombs, at the same time.
Combustion Man fired at them, as he ever did.
A large, dark shape dove down just in front of the sponsors' balcony: without thinking twice of it, with zero regard for Zhao or the guards around her, Azula jumped.
Xin Long could have miscalculated, and she would have fallen into nothingness instead… though, if this failed, she would have no problem with having leapt to her death.
But she fell into the saddle indeed, her whole body aching for the violence of her straddling of the creature. And then Xin Long dove down faster still, angling his body towards where Sokka had stood…
Just as an inferno of a magnitude the Fire Nation had never witnessed before was unleashed within the Arena.
The air itself was on fire. The combustion attack had set off two bombs: they had been consumed quickly by the fire, but their trajectory had continued to bring them closer to Combustion Man. The flames spread across the air, catching the other bombs, burning off their containers, and then even more of the compressed gas released into the open…
The very spot where Combustion Man had stood was now nothing but a burst of fire that the man attempted to fight, to kick off and muffle with his only bending limb, his left leg… and it didn't work. Try as though he might, the fire was scorching past his clothes, and then his skin… then it reached down into his muscles, and his blood vessels seemed to burst on fire just as well.
He had no control over what was happening. He tried to fight back, but had no means to do so. The inferno was all-consuming, overwhelming, devouring his flesh, destroying everything in its path… immolating the strongest gladiator of the League through an uncontrollable expansion of his own fire.
Zhao had gasped when Azula had jumped: he had tried to reach for her… but now the Princess went well and truly forgotten as he watched the storm of flames that had seemed to take root where his gladiator stood. The fire rose, spread, branching out even before Zhao could tell for certain whether Hakkai lived or not…
His survival instincts didn't take long to kick in once the fire started to expand, shifting closer to his position.
"GET OUT! GET OUT, ALL OF YOU!" he shouted at the guards: half of them were already past the door, and Zhao crashed into them as he raced to the stairs, running at haste to the next floor: few guards lingered there… but he knew Ozai might not to have left just yet: "OZAI! OZAI, GET OUT OF THERE!"
The Fire Lord stood, frozen, staring at that unexpected, sudden inferno worthy of the most potent bender under the effects of Sozin's Comet. It was almost entrancing to watch the flames rising and surging, spreading across the building so quickly, consuming everything in their wake…
"OZAI, YOU FOOL!"
Zhao's voice didn't register in the Fire Lord's head: he only snapped back to his senses when his friend grabbed his shoulder, yanking him towards himself, pulling him away from the royal balcony.
"N-no…! What did he…?! NO!" Ozai exclaimed: it seemed the bewitching effect of the fire had somehow done away with his awareness, his understanding, of what had been happening within the building.
"My lord, you must get out, now!" a guard called him, urging both Ozai and Zhao to run down the stairs: the fire was already spreading inside the building, as highlights of orange and gold, as well as rising heat, kept bursting through the walls and corridors.
The building had been occupied by guards most of all: the first and second squads of Imperial Guards raced out of their stations, towards the vestibule, encouraging their Fire Lord to do the same. Their leader, Shaofeng, was among them, sporting a few wounds and still looking rather shaken, without his helmet, after his earlier fall, as well as the building's corridors had almost collapsed over him earlier. His befuddlement only grew as he slowly grew to notice the wild inferno that had been unleashed in the building he'd escorted the Crown Princess to.
"OUT! EVERYONE, GET OUT!" Zhao roared, forcing each of the men to leave the building's premises.
Even from the outside, the inferno was apparent: countless onlookers, frightened, watched as what could have been a simple, common day suddenly gained a rather dark connotation: the smoke released by the fire was coloring the sky with ashes and cinder, sparks flying dangerously in all directions as the uncontrollable fire gained further strength… so much that the hot-air balloon hovering nearby had to be steered away from the fire, for safety's sake.
"W-what just happened?!" Fei Li exclaimed, clinging to the border of the hot-air balloon desperately "Rui Shi…!"
"I don't know! I…! T-the dragon… he dove down! He did!" Rui Shi said, his chest heaving as he maneuvered with the balloon's steering wheel "He… he might have saved them! That has to be why he…!"
But the fire had spread so far, so fast, consuming a whole building in a matter of minutes: had the dragon somehow broken out of the fire at the other end of the column that spiraled upwards? Was he simply hidden from view? Or…
Or had all three of them died in that inferno?
He had known the fire would grow wild, of course he had. He hadn't known how fast the process would be, but it certainly had felt alarmingly fast: one second Combustion Man had detonated the two bombs closest to him, the next he was already half-aflame, with the remaining bombs setting off just as well.
It made an unnerving but beautiful spectacle, yet Sokka's eyes only wanted to focus on Azula. When the fire was so potent it hid her away from sight, he evoked her image in his mind, her most beautiful golden eyes, that teasing, intelligent smirk he had ever been drawn to…
Only for a sudden shadow to startle him out of his thoughts: a dragon's shape would be difficult to mistake for anything else, especially for a man who had ridden one for as long as Sokka had. Prepared as he was to die right then and there, he was suddenly broken out of focus… for the woman in his thoughts was suddenly so much closer than she had ever been while he stood in the sand pit.
"Az-…?" he couldn't even finish calling her name.
"SOKKA!" she shrieked one more time: her right arm was stretched out towards him, just as before.
It was second-nature for Sokka to reach for it, even if his heart was simultaneously troubled and overjoyed over Azula's sudden descent. Wouldn't she burn as well? Was she choosing to die with him? Or did she hope to outrun the flames instead…?
Whatever her plans were, one more chance to see her, to touch her, was a temptation too overwhelming to resist.
Their hands met, just as they had when they made their deal, in what seemed like another lifetime.
But this time, Azula pulled him towards her, with far more strength than she had realized she had reclaimed. She yanked him powerfully as Xin Long landed briefly, lowering his body enough that she could pull her lover into her arms…
And once he was locked in Azula's embrace, the dragon shot upwards anew.
Flames licked at his claws, at his tail: protectively, Xin Long turned in midair to hide Azula and Sokka from the inferno, angling them away from it as the Princess's legs clung to him tightly, as Azula held her gladiator with all her strength, heavily draped across her lap as he was. The pain of her shoulder flared violently but went ignored, and she disregarded his countless wounds for that very instant, for there would be no wounds to worry about if they couldn't get out. The fire spread so fast it caressed Xin Long's abdomen: could gold fire have kept it at bay? She doubted it, but even if it could, she wasn't strong or calm enough to wield it. Her chaotic mind, full of fear and anguish, couldn't have brought her anywhere close to the right mindset to use her gold fire even if she'd had no other way to save them…
"Xin…!" Azula whimpered, squeezing her dragon tight with her aching legs: they were almost there. The roof was caught in the fire that spread across it now, but they were almost there…
She crouched over Sokka's body protectively as they broke like a cannon ball across the surging mantle of flames.
The saddle was on fire: Azula struggled to muffle it, to do away with the spurts of fire that danced upon her clothes and even her dragon's hair. Sokka's boots and clothes were half-burned by then, both over this fire and the impact of too many explosions. All his exposed skin was reddened, and while the amount of blood leaking from his scalp might not have been an indicator of the severity of the wound, Azula's desperate heart was too overwhelmed by anguish to think rationally about how heavily head wounds tended to bleed.
"Sokka… Sokka, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice frail as she called his name "Love, please, just… just answer me…"
"A… Azula…" he gasped: just how many times had she feared she'd lose him? How many times had he woken speaking her name, as though all that mattered was her? Her chest ached, and the knot in her throat came undone with a spree of sobs as she hugged him tightly "Azula… I'm… w-what did… w-what did you do…?"
"You're safe…" she sobbed softly, holding him closely "Y-you're alive. You're safe. You… you'll be okay. I'll see to it, Sokka, I… I'll take care of you now…"
"You… you saved me…?" Sokka whispered "You always save me… you always… Azula…"
She couldn't speak any longer, holding him as she was, overtaken by sobs of relief, of desperation, of anguish: she would have died in that inferno with him, without even imagining there could be a way out until her dragon called for her. He had been ready to help, fearing the situation wouldn't allow it… but escaping in the middle of that unnatural disaster proved the one chance he'd find to snatch both his riders and fly off with them without being chased or attacked immediately by the Fire Lord's troops.
"Xin Long… it's Xin Long who… who did it…" Azula said, sobbing as she gazed at her dragon: he glanced at her, offering her his most confident draconian smile "Thank you, Xin. You… you saved us both…"
He huffed and nodded promptly, flying deliberately away from the Royal Dome, rising further in the sky: the fire was completely out of control, consuming the glorious, luxurious building as a plague decimated a weakened population, destroying everything in its wake. Azula shuddered: had her father gotten away? Her heart, fool that she was, seemed torn between hoping he had, and hoping for the opposite. After everything he'd put them through, he didn't deserve the slightest hint of mercy… but he was still her father, no matter how deeply she might resent him.
The building burned so brightly it put the sun to shame: Xin Long knew better than to linger near the area, for the smoke could be a hazard for both his riders. Yet before he could take off, despite scarcely knowing in which direction to move to, he growled softly at Azula: a hot-air balloon was rising towards them.
Azula's chest tightened, yet she was instinctively relieved when she recognized the familiar faces of Fei Li and Rui Shi, even at a distance. Yes… they had a plan. A plan to escape that was already halfway to completion. A plan that had nearly gone to waste… but they had managed to salvage Sokka from the Dome, and Azula was out of her father's reach too, for the first time in four days.
"Princess…!" Rui Shi called for her, breathing heavily "For a moment, we feared…! Is he…?"
"He's… he's alive. He'll… he'll be okay" Azula said, her voice weak, but still audible for the two guards adrift in the sky "We… we can go. We have to go. Are… are all the other guards on the Barge already?"
"No, some are back at the house" Rui Shi admitted, eyeing her with uncertainty, suspecting she wouldn't want to be reminded of yet another place tainted by the Fire Lord's wrath "I meant to use the balloon to collect you two, if the chance arose, but… but fortunately your dragon was faster"
"Yeah… yeah" Azula swallowed hard "Then… go find the rest of them, now, Rui Shi. T-the sooner we're out of reach…"
"The safer we'll be" Fei Li finished for her, nodding "Go… towards the Gates. The Barge should've crossed them by now, so continue towards Fire Fountain City… they should be somewhere around that area right now. We'll catch up as soon as possible"
"Be quick… and thank you" Azula said, gazing at them remorsefully. She held onto Sokka so firmly, protectively, knowing her love for the man she held now was the whole reason this entire catastrophe had taken place… knowing her men might just begrudge her for ruining all their lives over that sole man, even if privately.
Neither Fei Li nor Rui Shi gave away any signs of such resentment: they nodded and got to work with the hot-air balloon, angling it towards Sokka's house anew. Azula breathed deeply, gazing at her dragon.
"You… you heard them. Towards Fire Fountain City" she whispered to Xin Long.
"We're… w-where are we going…?" Sokka asked, softly.
Azula's chest tightened at that question. At its many implications, at its potential branches. At what it could mean for their future, at how Sokka might just disapprove of the one way forward Azula had concocted by herself, once she had pondered what could be done if he was saved at all.
But she certainly couldn't answer that question fully yet. Not until he had been tended to… until he had regained his health, until he had rested, eaten, recovered his strength. He had just left the scene of the most traumatic battle he'd ever waged, the last thing he needed was to worry about their uncertain, dark future.
"To safety" she answered, simply "Don't worry. Just… just relax, and rest now. You did… you did a brilliant job, as you always do. You're… you're the best gladiator there ever was, for sure…"
"I… I don't know if…"
"I do know. And I'd spend a lifetime convincing you of it, if I must" she whispered the words bittersweetly, hoping he wouldn't know she couldn't mean them, no matter how badly she wished she could.
"You… always say that kind of thing…" Sokka said… and to her utter surprise, and further heartbreak, he closed his eyes with a gentle smile.
"So do you…" she said, choked up "Just… j-just rest for now, okay? Everything else is… isn't important right now. We're alive… we're going to be okay. We're going to be okay"
Her words were empty, she knew as much, acutely, painfully. She spoke with tears in her eyes, tears that her beloved husband couldn't see, but her dragon could feel them with her, just as well. The pain that dwelled in her soul hurt worse than her shoulder ever could, for she had almost lost Sokka for good… she had nearly failed to protect him when it mattered most.
And she might have saved him now… but it didn't mean their future together would ever regain the brightness it had lost four days ago.
So many people had paid the price for their love: Song was out of anyone's reach, by Rui Shi's choice, and it was hard to say if any of them would ever see her again. The guards were likely waiting to climb aboard the hot-air balloon, ready to take off quickly into yet another uncertain future, where they intended to serve their Princess as best they could… as fugitives from Fire Lord Ozai's rule. Her many friends would, potentially, become her father's next focus… for he might demand answers from them, retaliation. And no doubt… no doubt, once everything calmed down, once he realized she had saved Sokka from that storm of fire, he would send all the available ships, perhaps even aircrafts, to find them. They had no time to waste, whatsoever, if they hoped to outrun them.
She had known, all along, that their lives would never be the same again. As she held the slumbering Sokka closely, breathing weakly as his broken body gave in to the need for rest after such a strenuous battle against mental, emotional and physical exhaustion, Azula's awareness of the horrors that lay ahead only strengthened further. Life, as she had known it, was poised to change forever… in truth, it already had. There was no going back from this. Her father, if he had gotten out of that fire safely at all, would give them no quarter, no mercy, especially after they had escaped his control as they had. He would stop at nothing to kill Sokka, more so now that the gladiator had survived his appointed execution…
She had to be prepared to do anything to stop him. Anything necessary to protect the man who meant the world to her.
She kept him safe, draped over her legs, resting against her uninjured shoulder, as they continued to fly towards the horizon. It was barely noon… but the smoke of the burning Arena had done a number in the sky, turning it darker, redder, hiding the sun behind a film of dust and ashes… the last remnants of the Gladiator League. It could have felt like a small price to pay for Sokka's life, one Azula would pay a thousand times over if need be… but she grieved its loss all the same. It was what had started everything for them, what had given her the power to make more of herself than the world wanted to allow her to be… and it had burned fast and overwhelmingly, leaving nothing in its wake. Would that fire spread beyond the Dome, burning more buildings within the city? Would the countless sponsors and gladiators who relished in the League ever accept the utter annihilation of their fighting arena, where they always wanted to measure their strength against each other? Would the many people who worked for the League, the chairman, Shoji, even Yang, move forward with their lives and find a new future after her actions had seen to the destruction of their livelihoods…?
There would be no forgiveness for what she'd done, Azula knew as much. The Fire Nation would regard her as nothing more than a traitor from this day forward, by her father's choice. She would be hated, reviled by countless people who had once seen her as a beacon of greatness, shining brightly as she ushered a new era for their nation. Just as she knew she deserved no forgiveness for stealing Sokka from his people… she knew she'd deserve none for the damage she'd done to the Fire Nation, to countless people she treasured, with her actions.
Because if that was what it took to save him, she'd do it. If that was how she'd keep him alive, she'd shatter everything else over and over, a thousand times over, perhaps more than that, until he could be safe. Just as he had destroyed his own soul by killing once again to save her and he had regretted none of it, she could regret none of this. She was that selfish… she was that desperate to keep this wonderful man alive, by her side, for as long as she could make it so.
Eventually, the skies cleared again. Within less than an hour, they had flown over Azulon's Great Gates. And within two more hours of continuous, fast flight, which Azula suspected was exhausting her dragon's strength by now, they finally spotted the familiar golden stern and prow of one of the largest vessels in the Fire Nation navy.
Azula breathed sharply, tightening her grip around Sokka protectively as Xin Long descended towards the ship that, Azula hoped, would become their salvation during the coming days. Whatever uncertain future awaited past the first objective she could think of, she knew the Barge would be their sole refuge until they reached that destination. She would see to it that Sokka was tended to, first of all, and then…
Then she would ask Tai Wei to set course for the South Pole.
A/N:
Well... here we are. Next update will be a double once more, I'll make sure to leave the necessary warnings for that as always. Beyond that, I guess I'll just let you guys know that all the artworks for this year's anniversary project video are available for my patrons over at P / A / T / R / E / O / N. It's a lot of material, featuring many hints regarding the upcoming direction of Gladiator in Part 3, so even if you can't make any pledges, feel free to check out the video itself if you're intrigued about what to expect in the future (of course, if you're averse to any manner of spoilers and you would rather experience everything freshly, never mind :'D).
Thanks for all your support so far. The events from this particular chapter were the initial first objective I set for Gladiator, and we've been building our way towards it across the past nine years... so it's really crazy that I finally released it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the final battle of the Gladiator League... and that you'll be waiting eagerly to see what's coming next.