A/N: Sorry about the delay on this one. First, I had it on my USB for months before remembering to post it to my dA account- and again, it was months before I remembered to update it over here ^^;

Retreat

The General stood alone at the top of the hill.

Behind him lay an expanse of ruined walls. Ahead of him, still too far away to be seen, were the inner walls of the city that still refused to surrender. His face, turned toward that city, was marked by the deep wrinkles recent grief had carved. But he had only himself to blame for this pain.

The vision still seemed so close; as real as the day he'd first seen it. Had he been misled? He tried to summon his anger, to hate the Spirits for what they had shown him, but he could not. In his darkest hour, he had cursed the Spirits for their revelation; but now, he could only blame himself. It was he who had set out on this mission. It was he who had pre-empted what the Spirits had showed him; despite warnings. And in the aftermath of the last battle, as the smoke and dirt cleared from the fields, he had discovered what the price of his actions would be.

Looking outside of his tent as the wounded were brought in, counting the cost of the latest skirmish. His vague sense of unease that escalated when he saw four soldiers carrying one body into the camp; the grief and panic, the glances towards him. Feeling himself moving towards the burden they carried. Sensing the people moving out of his way; sympathetic voices. A wail of grief from Natsuko, who had insisted on following her fiancé to war.

Oh Agni, NO!

Falling to his knees next to the broken body of his only son. Running hands over his crushed face, broken arms. Down his twisted torso. The blood pooling below his body.

The screams someone let loose as he wept.

In that split second, he'd aged thirty years. His bones complained whenever he moved. His eyes not focusing on the numerous reports brought to him. His mind sluggish, refusing to take in the numbers. But he saw.

So many deaths. The costs of war, paid in blood. In the pain of its innocents. In the tears of mothers that would never again hold their children.

And he was so tired. Tired of fighting a war he could no longer believe in. It had taken the Spirits' intervention and the loss of his son to make him see what he must do.

It was time for him to end it.

For this was no mere General: he was the Crown Prince of his Nation, marked as such by the royal artifact he wore. His duty was to his people: it was long past time that he did it.

A voice floated through his mind: "You will never rule this nation that you love so well."

He still didn't understand: was Ozai planning something, then? Or was he destined to fall before he could assume the throne? He sighed. Perhaps that would be better. To end the pain once and for all. But no- he still had to try.

He turned his attention to the sound of footsteps as someone approached. The faint scent of tiger lilies drifted on the breeze; he smiled, thinking of the one nod to gender of his aide. Still trying to prove that neither family rank nor gender had anything to do with her position.

"Come to enjoy the view, Akane?" The woman came no closer.

"General, the council is waiting for you at the meeting tent. They've come up with a plan to turn this battle in our favour."

"No need for that, my dear. I already know what I'm going to do."

He bowed his head- a gesture of respect- and farewell- to the city in the distance. He turned to Akane, secure in the knowledge that this was the right thing to do. The only real choice to be made. If it was possible, her already military bearing seemed to become even stiffer as he spoke.

"Akane, notify the Lieutenant. Alert the camp. I believe it's time we returned home."

Leaves from the vine
Falling so slow
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam
Little soldier boy
Come marching home
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home