Today is different.
She can feel it in their bones.
It has been a long time; nearly thirty five years since their last discussion about death and mortality. Wan's hair has turned completely gray, and his body is now a shadow of its former glory, his skill and ability to bend all four elements the only things keeping him alive on the battlefields lately.
She wishes he would just stop; stop fighting the unending battles, stop halting inevitable wars, stop resisting his own body's aching protests and take a long, well-deserved rest, because his promise has been kept – he's done his best, but there's no way the world can be changed in only one lifetime – except he wouldn't listen anyway.
That promise of his is the only thing keeping him going, most days.
Like today.
They had long ago abandoned the careless practice of simply wearing whatever clothing they happened to be carrying; his body couldn't take hard hits like it used to, so they now wears lightweight armor that provides some protection yet still allows him to fight at full flexibility.
The fighting has already begun by the time they arrive; she can't recall who it is that's gotten hostile to each other this time, but judging by the giant earthen disks flying through the air and fireballs shooting across the ground, she supposes it is safe to assume the Earth Armies have gotten mixed up with the new Fire Nation. (They'd briefly met the new Firelord; he was a decent enough man, aside from being a bit power-hungry.) She could only hope this was a misunderstanding that could be fixed quickly.
No dice.
Wan leaps forward, creating a tidal wave of earth for him to ride on into the outskirts of the battle to search for the general's battalion (he's finally taking her advice; he no longer heads into the middle like all those years ago).
Of course, the fighters notice a giant wall of rock heading towards them.
Wan is still incredibly agile for an elder from what Raava can tell, but even he couldn't handle an onslaught of both Earth and Firebenders alike turning on him attacking.
Dodging proves futile when a swath of flame comes from your left while a gigantic earth disk is sent whizzing past your right.
Wan punches through the rock as it were old clay and lands a kick into one soldiers face, smoothly taking him and his partner out with deadly precision (he is no longer the naïve boy he once was, and she regrets every second of it because it is her fault, no matter what anyone said).
They move onward, taking out one attacker after another, weaving through the arrows and fire and earth as flawlessly as an Airbender while attacking with all of the ferocity of a Firebender.
It feels like only seconds (hours) later when it happens.
Some little punk (a rank amateur, really) decides that the old man currently slaughtering his comrades is not worthy of fair combat and pops out of the soil just behind them, startling Wan and making Raava hiss in fury (she should have known he was there, damn it) and manages a single strike.
One strike is enough.
The boulder smashes into Wan's ribs with an echoing crack! that surely the whole world could hear, because it was the only thing Raava could hear; that, and Wan's shriek of pain.
(He's too old for this, he shouldn't be here, he should have gotten out while he still could-)
The old bones splinter like toothpicks, the organs inside punctured by the fragments and smashing into each other unceremoniously, setting the entire area into a fire of agony and pain and oh spirits it hurts-
They black out.
Or at least, he does.
She takes a single moment to survey the damage done to his body – too old, too young, he's hers and he's broken and that is not okay – before rounding on this little coward with fiery white light in their shared eyes and a snarl in their voice.
"Shall I break you as well?"
A/N: Well, I'm dying on the inside.
~Persephone