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BOOK ONE:

LIFE

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

THE FORTRESS

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"Take a look around - you'll find no second-rate weapons at Baolan's."

The middle-aged man called out to the person who entered his shop without looking away from his work at the anvil, as he'd done countless times before. What he didn't yet know was that his new prospective customer was the exiled prince of the Fire Nation.

After the rather… unorthodox trial that King Bumi put Zuko through, the impression that people of Omashu held of him and his uncle softened. Doubly so when more travellers and merchants trickled through the city gates with tales of a fledgling rebellion against the Fire Nation just due west.

So it went that as Zuko once again trudged his way up the paths towards the palace, he did so under looks of approval rather than disdain from the citizenry. Not that it lessened the prince's irritation at what he was made to do.

"Ah, our honoured guest returns!" King Bumi had the nerve to jovially exclaim as Zuko stomped back into the throne room. Iroh stood back with a wry smile while his nephew levelled the king with a mean glare.

"I hope you don't test all your 'honoured guests' this way."

"Oh don't you worry, wonder boy!" Bumi replied, unaffected. "I have a whole 'nother test ready for the next time someone important comes around!"

The three of them went on to decide the important next step now that Bumi believed Zuko's story - a formal endorsement of the rebellion by Omashu addressed to one General Fong, a high-ranking officer and leader of much of the Earth Kingdom's forces in the region. Regarded as an aggressive strategist, from his fortress on the west coast, they could easily mobilise reinforcements and supplies to support the rebels located south of the Great Divide, definitively reclaiming the land from the Fire Nation occupiers. They discussed potential strategies on how to move forward from here, including what information to share with General Fong for him to start working on the plan on his end. The next day, Iroh and Bumi sequestered themselves to a meeting room to hammer out the details and logistics, including how to update Lieutenant Jee back at Song's village. Hence why Zuko was able to wander around the city for a while until he came across this smithy.

'General Fong…' Zuko turned the name over in his mind as he idly examined the various swords and spears on display, mounted on racks on the walls of the blacksmith's shop. 'Sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.'

He couldn't tell whether or not he recognised the name from his past life - maybe from another campfire story with the Avatar's friends - or his current one, during his year of seafaring. But if he's as competent as he's been led to believe, then things were truly about to change for his rebellion.

"Ah." Zuko was brought out of his thoughts after he found what he came into this blacksmith's for: a pair of dual sabres. He was in need of a new set after a certain someone had stolen his ship. After lifting it from its mount on the wall, he unsheathed the swords and checked their point of balance by placing the spine of the blades on his finger.

"You've got a good eye."

Zuko looked up to see the smith, presumably Baolan, looking back at him - taking a break from the work he was doing to appraise the boy who entered his store. In one fluid motion, Zuko returned the twin dao swords to their scabbard.

"It's a good weapon," he said.

"It's a great weapon," corrected the smith. "Most of the display pieces were done by my apprentice. Lucky you, you picked out one forged by me."

"How much?" Zuko asked as they both went to the counter. Baolan rolled out a scroll, a ledger, and looked at the prince once more.

"Say, aren't you that guy who crashed a mail cart through the city yesterday?"

"Let's not bring that up."

"Heh," Baolan smirked. "For you, I'll give a good price. To go against your own nation, your own people… I know I couldn't do it."

The smith couldn't see the conflicted frown form on Zuko's face as he brought out his quill and inkwell.


"Rhododendron, three-six!" Bumi shouted while dramatically slamming a tile on the table, before crossing his arms in smug satisfaction.

Iroh contemplated the board for a moment. "Very interesting, but would Knotweed four-four not be the more advantageous play?"

"Tut tut tut," the king waggled his index finger. "Don't forget, old friend: a good move for you…"

"...Is a good move for your opponent," Iroh scratched his beard. "I see!"

"Ugh. Can't you two just talk normally?"

When Zuko returned to the palace, he found the two old men hunched over a Pai Sho board. He waited as patiently as he could, which was not long, before he couldn't help but show his exasperation. All this secret language mumbo jumbo was really not his thing.

"Nephew," Iroh looked tiredly at his ward. "If you want to join the Order of the White Lotus, you have to at least pretend to like Pai Sho."

"Why do we need to do this anyway?" Zuko asked. "No one's in this whole wing but us."

"Well, it's a fun game," Bumi chimed in. "Not that you'd know anything about fun."

Zuko deadpanned. "Are we ready to move or not?"

"Yeah yeah, got your endorsement right here… Think fast!" Bumi suddenly chucked a scroll out of one of his sleeves right at Zuko, who just barely caught it.

"Hey!"

"HAHA!" Bumi guffawed. "Could you imagine if you dropped it?"

Iroh stretched his arms and stood, then made his way across the room towards the prince.

"I've already sent a messenger hawk to Lieutenant Jee, it shouldn't take long to reach him. He is to meet us at General Fong's fortress."

"Well then, what're we waiting for? Let's get-" Zuko turned to leave, but got nudged hard in the side by his uncle, who gestured his head toward the king of Omashu. Zuko sighed.

"Thank you, King Bumi," he tried to say genially, with an emphasis on tried. "For your, uhh, unique brand of hospitality."

Iroh rolled his eyes at his nephew's impudence, but the widening grin on the mad king's face showed that he didn't seem to mind.

"Any time, wonder boy. If you ever wanna try beating my record, I'll ask 'em to clear the delivery chutes for ya."


"Lieutenant, it's good to see you again."

"Likewise," Jee greeted in response as Iroh and Zuko got off their ostrich horses, along with a small contingent of Omashu troops that were sent to escort them, "it's good you arrived when you did."

The royal duo didn't miss the slight stress in his voice, and it wasn't difficult to figure out the cause. Without the letter from King Bumi, the rebels that accompanied Jee here - meaning Zuko's original crew from his ship and a few dozen others - were all being kept under close watch by the soldiers stationed here, outside the gates of the fortress. Needless to say, they were getting tense.

It was a commanding structure to say the least. Deeply seated atop a small mountain, the circular wall towered imperiously over the surrounding landscape with weathered but well-maintained white stone. Even so, the central spire that housed the main hall was still visible from the outside, a testament to the fortress's strategic significance to the Earth Kingdom. It's no exaggeration to say that this base dwarfed many of the villages Zuko saw in this area, combined, several times over.

"Uh, right," Zuko awkwardly replied as he reached into the satchel affixed to the saddle of his mount, pulling out a scroll before. Walking up to the gatekeeper, he passed it along.

"...You're clear," the guardsman said after inspecting the document for a time, and the collective breath of relief was taken by the prince's motley crew.

"About time. We told you we were good," said one of the rebels, an aged man with a long white beard.

'Tyro?!'

Noticing Zuko's surprised gaze, the man smiled back at the prince and nodded. He's making good on his word.

"Not you." The gatekeeper replied curtly, before pointing at Jee, Zuko, and Iroh. "You, you, and you. Follow me."

Then came the collective groan. But the soldiers around them said nothing in response as they opened the gate.

"They don't talk much, do they?" Iroh whispered, leaning toward Jee and his nephew. The men from Omashu had no such quirk, chatting as they led the ostrich horses away, presumably to the stables of the fortress.

"We figured that one out pretty quick," Jee whispered back with exasperation his voice, "General Fong greeted us from the ramparts with a 'grant them nothing till I see the letter!' They took that as literally as possible. At least you can't fault them for their dedication…"

Once the gate was opened just wide enough for them to go through, the guard led them in.

'General Fong's men clearly respect him. A lot, by the looks of things.' Zuko mused as they walked across the courtyard of the fortress in a stiff silence toward the interior. 'I don't get how I could forget a person like that.'

It wasn't much longer till they reached a strategy room, wherein laid a large table with a recess that held a map of the region, yellowed and creased with age and use, pockmarked by the use of pins and pointers. On the other side of the table from them, an imposing figure with brown hair, a full beard, and calloused hands poured over the map with a look of consternation.

"General Fong, sir." Their escort called out to the man. "The Fire Nation rebels have arrived."

"Huh?" Fong looked up, as if noticing they were there for the first time. "Ah yes! I've been expecting you! We have a lot to discuss. Show me the letter."

The boisterous greeting was a sharp contrast to the decorum of the guard, who went over to pass the General the scroll. It became immediately obvious that however he earned the loyalty of his soldiers, it wasn't through fear.

"Alright! Looks good to me." General Fong exclaimed as he rolled the scroll shut, "Go ahead and let the rest of Prince Zuko's men in."

With a "Sir!", the guard headed back to do just that.

"It's that easy?" Zuko questioned, which Iroh and Jee eyed him for. "What?"

"You want it to be harder?" Fong raised his eyebrow at them. Zuko raised his hands placatingly. "Heh, I can understand your surprise I suppose, but it's not like King Bumi's intel is the first I've heard of you. I like to keep my ear to the ground around here."

"I'll be honest," Zuko said, "I'm just glad I don't have to do another day explaining to a bunch of angry people that we're actually on their side."

"It was getting to be a little tiresome." Iroh agreed sheepishly.

"Hah!" Fong guffawed. "I can see why King Bumi likes you. First, let me apologise for not greeting you in the main hall, Prince Zuko. This was all very last minute, and unexpected to say the least."

"I'm not the type to get hung up about that." Zuko affirmed. He's slept on the ground outside countless times before as a fugitive after all. "Let's just get started."

"We're going to get along just fine." Fong smirked before rewearing a serious expression. "Truth is, we've been trying to get a solid hold of this region for a while now." He gestured to the map on the table of the southwestern coast of the Earth Kingdom continent. "But with Fire Nation soldiers present even deep into the mainland, the states couldn't spare much in the way of manpower. I don't have the luxury of refusing your help if it means victory."

"That makes things simple then. Lieutenant Jee, Fire Nation Navy," the man introduced himself to the General before glancing at the royal duo as well. "We were told you all have a plan. Me and my men are all anxious to hear what the next step is."

"Our advantage is that this region is not the current focus of the Fire Nation - the rebellion getting this far makes that clear," Iroh addressed Jee. "It is when they inevitably turn their eyes here that it becomes a problem. After all of our movement in recent weeks, it will be sooner rather than later."

"So 'Navy' is exactly why you're here." Fong grinned. "It's no secret the Fire Nation easily has the most advanced navy in the world. We're going to need your knowledge and your numbers to ensure we can secure the coastline. When we take back these lands, we're going to keep them."

"Not a very complicated plan after all," Zuko chimed in. "Just have to defend against the reinforcements once the Caldera decides they can't ignore our rebellion anymore."

"Which makes it perfect for our two disparate forces, no?" Fong clapped his hands. "The complications come from the fact that green and red are working together in the first place."

The lieutenant nodded in understanding, already retreating into his mind to think of how to relay this to the rebels outside. Meanwhile, Fong turned to the prince and his uncle.

"Speaking of numbers, we're going to need more. If we're going to fight, we're going to make sure we win. And while the support of the locals is necessary, they're not warriors either."

"Yeah, we know." Zuko sighed. While he and his uncle were able enough, and the Freedom Fighters were skilled allies to have, their rebellion mostly consisted of non-combatants and aged men, with some Fire Nation soldier turncoats they've convinced along the way. They no doubt had the spirit and determination, but against an actual attacking force… "Did you find any candidates in the end?"

"I have. There are two settlements relatively close to us geographically. They've had the privilege of choosing neutrality by being just enough out of the way." General Fong couldn't completely mask his disdain for such a concept as he pushed two wooden tokens onto the relevant locations on the map. "Here's hoping you're the unknown variable we need to finally push them over the edge. As the faces of this operation, it'll be up to you to convince them."

"And the officers you'll send with us, General?" Iroh asked.

Fong nodded to the Dragon of the West in acknowledgement. "I'm not one for delicate diplomacy myself, and besides, someone has to keep things running around here. But of course, I'll send my most trusted earthbenders with you to help smooth things over. They've liaised with these territories before, you'll be granted entry with minimal issues."

But Zuko didn't hear what the two men were saying. His eyes were widened. His pulse quickened. On the parchment, the places where the tokens lay rang in his ears.

Kyoshi Island. Gaoling.