Kali Yuga

Our tale is coming to the moment of destiny, young prince. The great clash of Fire against Ice raging, with the devious Colonel Zhao standing at the fulcrum. The Fire Lord had poured all the Nation's might, the newest and most terrible instruments of war, into a great gamble. Seldom are wars won or lost in a single night. But Zhao would wage, by force or guile, eternal war against the Heavens themselves to bring greatness to his name.

Sokka had no responsibilities, formal or informal. As a guest, he would not be expected to take up arms in defense of the city. When he and Suki came to the palace marshalling yeard, clad in the full raiment of war anyway, the palace castellan insisted that they be dismissed. They would not stoop so low, he'd said, to let a guest and a foreigner woman fight their battles for them.

So the soldiers mustered out, leaving Sokka behind. Helmet tucked under an arm, hand resting on the hilt at his hip, he seethed with impotent rage. He strained against the too tight armor, like a leash holding him back. "Hard to believe I came this far, only to be told to sit this one out," he said.

Suki watched the sun dipping to the horizon. She fidgeted, popping the habaki on her katana in and out of the scabbard. "Well it's going to be a long night of waiting anyway. Night attacks and firebenders don't mix."

"I can't stand sitting and doing nothing."

"You know better than that. We strike at the opportune moment."

"Which is now. Those airships were bigger than the ones Azula told us about. They've got to be up to no good." Sokka glanced back at Suki, arching an eyebrow. "After all, I am a guest. Couldn't hurt anything to go take a look."

Suki raised an eyebrow as well. "I suppose we could. We wouldn't technically be fighting."

"Just reconnoitering."

"And what they do with the intelligence, that's up to the Chief."

"And should we meet opposition, naturally we'd have to defend ourselves."

"Naturally."

A third voice interjected, "Oh, I do love a good scheme."

Suki jumped out of her skin, finding Yue grinning behind her. "Oh…princess! We were just talking about hypotheticals."

Sokka made a great show of rubbing his head. "Oh yeah, we're all hat and no yak over here, you know how it is."

Yue patted his shoulder. "Well, if we're talking hypotheticals, what if a certain princess wanted to come along?"

Suki wrinkled her nose. "Don't even kid about that."

Yue's eyebrows furrowed as she clenched her fists. "I could always tell my father about your 'hypotheticals'."

Sokka threw his hands up. "Great, so we get to choose between your father killing us now or killing us later."

"You're not cut out for this, princess," said Suki.

As the princess's hackles raised, the snow around her swirled, rising into a halo of razor sharp ice. "I can't stand by and do nothing!" shouted Yue. Aware suddenly of her own strength, the icy dervish around her halted, ice daggers hanging in the air. "I don't know how to explain it. But the sea is calling to me. A terrible calamity is coming and all I know is I have to do something. Or everything is lost."

Her voice had become small, like a child's. It reminded Sokka of the helpless boy he once was: a boy who cried and screamed for any spirit who could hear him to give him the strength to never be helpless again. "Okay," he said with a sigh. "I don't like it. I don't approve of it. But I understand."

"Sokka, you can't be serious," said Suki.

"It's her life, Suki. Who am I to say she can't use it to protect the people she loves?"

Suki glanced between Yue and Sokka. "Yue, what's the quickest route up the western glacier?"

Yue's ice storm scattered into puffs of snow. She smoothed the pleats of her dress. "Thank you, Sokka, Suki. THere's a hidden passage behind the old barracks. I think I know the way through. Follow me."

It was not hard to slip away. This troubled Sokka greatly. Even with the chaos of the mustering troops and fleeing civilians sheltering behind the palace battlements, it should not have been so easy for a princess to slip away. As he walked behind Yue, sword drawn, he worried they might be treated like abductors.

The winding ice passage led up the glacier wall in switchbacks. Once Yue cleared the hidden entrance of ice, they emerged fifty yards from the cliff edge, in the midpoint of the glacier wall.

A gentle wind blew seaward. The last pale glow rose from behind the horizon. The the once placid Spirit Aurora swirled in frenzies of green, red and blue. The ill omen chilled his blood. He'd only seen it like this once before, one night when he was barely three. His mouth ran dry, the smalls hairs on his neck stood on end. His hand gripping the tsurugi sword trembled.

Suki buttoned her parka, teeth rattling. She pointed skyward. "That doesn't look good. Even I can tell."

Unfettered by the cold winds despite wearing only her silk dress, Yue nodded. "It's worse than I feared."

Sokka scanned the frozen horizon, pushing past the sinking feeling in his belly. Agna Qel'a's formidable land defenses were barely visible several miles out. The ring of watch towers, strong points and ice palisade had been totally bypassed. The watchfires of a dozen armed camps now ringed the city, just out of sight of the defenders in the city. Men had died by the thousands trying crossing the ice desert atop the glacier in ages past, dying in vain before the impregnable fortress city. A fortress second only to the country-unto-itself that was Ba Sing Se.

Perhaps the garrisons would be recalled in time. But for now they were on their own, against an enemy preparing to enfilade the defenders of Agna Qel'a.

Suki spied the nearest airship tied down on the glacier ice some distance away. She handed the spyglass to Sokka. He counted only four torchlights at this one. No watchfires, no palisades. He might have missed it entirely in the dark had Suki not shown him. He bit his tongue. The others carried at least a company of troops.

"There's only four," said Suki. "No way that four men ran a ship that size. Where's the rest of them?"

"My thoughts exactly. There's a fissure, leads right up to that ship. We can use it to conceal our approach, at least to the last ten or so paces. Of all of them, this one troubles me the most."

Suki put a comforting hand on Yue's shoulder. "Princess, just stay behind me and it'll be alright."

Yue nodded. Tension coiled in her body, but she did not tremble.

Suki stepped to the front, volunteering to lead, til, Sokka grabbed her free hand. "Wait, Suki."

"Come now, Sokka, you can't be the one to play the hero all the time," teased Suki. But as she turned, and saw the grave look on Sokka's face.

"Suki. Don't die. I mean it."

Eyes misty, Suki crushed him in a hug until his ribs creaked. "I love you too, dummy."

The sunken rift was not so deep as Sokka had hoped. The white glacier ice created stark silhouettes even in the dim Aurora light. He supposed he'd grown too accustomed to to the bountiful camouflage and concealment opportunities in the sun lands. Returning to the world of his tribe was a splash of cold water.

Amarok, o' wise wolf, lord of the hunters, prayed Sokka, I ask only that you look after Yue, daughter of Arnook, for she is brave but still has much to learn. Sokka peered around the end of the fissure, at least getting a good view of the airship. The ruddy zeppelin rocked in the wind, hovering just above the ice. Black smoke belched from the twin stacks in its center. THe metallic clangs from inside its great hulk reminded Sokka of a blacksmith's shop.

A man emerged from the hulk, huffing, face black with soot. He joined his compatriots around a coal brazier. They thunder of distant catapults did not draw their attention. As far as Sokka could tell, their one and only concern right now was grumbling about the cold. "Four confirmed. Don't know how many are benders."

"Can we get any closer?" said Suki.

"No, not without a distraction."

A wolf howled over the next rise. The four soldiers turned to the sound, hands reaching for this swords.

Like that! Sokka leapt over the rift without a word, sword trailing behind. The man turned only just in time to see the cut fall on his neck, smashing through the aventail to draw hot red blood onto the ice.

Careless as they'd been, these men were not the green recruits he'd fought at Shuǐshān. The other three were on him in an instant, raining savage blows at him. Each parry ripple dup his arm. Suki had arrived just in time to peel off one, but soon they were herded back-to-back, fighting against three circling swordsmen who knew better than to give them any time to recover.

Sokka managed a lucky hit against one of them, feinting past his guard to strike at his head. But when the tip struck the soldier's conical helm, it broke off. He stumbled back, ear's ringing, but now Sokka was left with a whole foot less on his blade.

"Oh damn it, I was finally getting good with you, and now you betray me?" said Sokka.

"I don't think the sword can hear you," said Suki.

Now at a disadvantage, things were looking pretty dire. One of the soldiers got a good cut in on Suki's leg. They were losing by many little cuts.

Until a barrage of ice daggers shot in, shattering off the Fire Nation soldier's armor. The soldiers swatted at the projectiles, snarling at the gleaming white haired princess. And failing to notice the tendril of water snaking down low, until it froze tight around a man's legs and hoisted him high.

Twirling her arms, Yue slammed the soldier back and forth until he let go of his sword and flicked blood with each slam. Finding her second wind, Suki stabbed through another soldier's guard, putting a shallow puncture in the man's belly.

The last found himself swept off the cliff by a torrent of water. His screams ended with an abrupt thud. "Oh…oh dear," said Yue. "I only wanted to knock him off his feet."

Suki glanced at Sokka, sharing a grimace. She hobbled over, putting a had on Yue's shoulder. "I know it's hard killing, but it was him or us, Yue."

"Oh, that's not it. I wanted him alive so we could interrogate him. Dead men can't talk."

Sokka laughed through the pain in his ribs. "Well, I'm glad you're taking it well. We can always search the airship. The ashmakers have a habit of writing important things down anyway."

The interior of the airship was painted in a dull anti-rust red. A low rumble travelled up Sokka's legs from the deck grates. He waited inside the entrance as Yue finished patching up Yue's wound. Once they followed him in, Sokka moved bow-ward, towards the glazed front that no doubt held the ship's bridge.

The winding corridors were lit by glowing overhead orbs. Azula had spoke of gas lamps in her homeland. Sokka had long wondered what powered them. The orbs were connected by metal pipes running along the ceiling. A chill ran through Sokka. It beat fumbling around a dark labyrinth, but Sokka certainly didn't want to spend any more time here than he had to.

The bridge was deserted, with only the occasional hiss of steam to greet them. The panorama of glass gave an excellent view forward and below, but visibility above was blocked by the main body of the airship, which contained the hot air that gave the craft buoyancy. Sokka filed that fact away for later use.

Some usual fixtures of modern steamships filled the bridge's stations: a wheel, speaking tubes, and a navigational chart. Others seemed peculiar to the functions of the airship. The navigational chart was covered with papers. Sokka began rifling through them.

Most were written in the Elder language in the formal hànzì characters, but others were written in the vulgar syllabary. Azula had taught him some of it, but he still found it difficult, especially when hand-written. Most of the maps and scrolls on the charts concerned Agna Qel'a. Judging from the dates, they were almost entirely pre-war and no doubt of dubious reliability.

Suki and Yue joined in. It didn't take long for a pattern to emerge. This ship's crew had been focused on infiltration into the city, searching for routes not unlike the ones Yue had led them up.

Yue suddenly turned pale. "Sokka! We have to go back. Now."

"Hold on, I think this one is getting me somewhere," said Sokka. "It's the captain's log, he keeps noting a special objective. There's a word he keeps using, sounding it out, I think it's 'Chandra', but I don't know what it means."

Suki perked up. "Chandra? Wait, Yue, what are you holding?"

Yue showed an ancient parchment scroll, faded from centuries of dry rot. The characters were older and more intricate than the modern standard. She recognized the names 'Tui' and 'La' in the first paragraph.

"Chandra," said Suki, her heart sinking, "Is the Fire Nation name for the Moon Spirit. Yue, you said there was something guarded behind the palace in the Spirit Oasis, but you were sworn to secrecy about it."

Yue swallowed hard. "They have an old fable about Tui and La, one that's older and more complete than any of the written ones i've seen before."

Sokka slammed the log down. "Tui and La…it's just a fable right. Yue, tell me it's just a fable." When Yue shook her head, "You mean they've been here the whole time? No…no they wouldn't. Not even them, how could they be so stupid?"

"Sokka dear, you're rambling," said Suki.

"We have to go. Now!"

Agna Qel'a was already burning. The pillars of smoke stabbed the night sky, glowing angry red from the infernos below. Beyond the haze and the raining ash, the wine-dark sea glittered with gaslight lanterns.

From atop the bluff, Azula counted the armada, staring stone-faced as the catapults lobbed their incendiaries onto the city. Seventy-five, she thought, and that's just in the bay. Father…how long have you been planning this? She glanced up at the full moon. Madness. Complete madness. Beginning an attack of this scale at night; what am I not seeing?

"It's a shame," said Yana. The young warrior stroked his patchy beard. "No chance for our own glory. Or to test your loyalties, Una."

"Call me a traitor again, Yana, and I'll drag you down to the sea naked."

Lanaq interrupted before there could be another retort. "Battle's not over until it's over. Simmer down, young brothers."

Azula could see the Water Tribe fleet amassing behind the Great Gate. Long ships, hewn from fine timber and clad in burnished copper, with ranks of stout oars jutting from the sides. Catapults littered the deck, manned by teeming masses of blue armored warriors. Even from up here, she could see the consummate perfection of their drill, the perfect clockwork synchronicity of men at war.

The waters surged as the gates opened, and the Water Tribe fleet filed out. They moved swiftly towards the Fire Navy battle line, still holding perfect drill. The Fire Navy ironclads steamed their circuit, slowly shifting their fire to the advancing column. The first barrage of incendiaries and fire lances splashed ahead of the lead longship. When the next salvo came, a great tidal wave rose at the longship's bow, the barrage disappearing in puffs of steam against it. The wave accelerated, overturning one ironclad cruiser as it smashed through the Fire Navy fleet.

Yana whooped and cheered. The other young lodge brothers joined him. Katara glanced at Azula, sharing her uncertainty. Something was off, Azula could feel it. It was too good to be true. What Admiral would be so daft to fight a night action in the frozen north?

The fleets clashed together, like a battering ram into a castle wall. The steamships maneuvered to avoid the rams, but under the full moon the Water Tribe ships were at their swiftest, faster and more nimble than the ironclads.

Over the coming minutes, the long Fire Navy line-of-battle bowed outward in the center. The half-moon bay turned into a circle, ringed on the outside by a thinning circuit of Fire Navy ships. The Water Tribe ships circled in the center like whirlpools ringed with blades of ice. At this moment of triumph, Azula realized where it all went wrong.

Whether it was premonition or extra-sensory perception, she couldn't say. It hurt her in alternating waves of boiling fire and freezing ice. She fell to her knees, heart pounding. A scream filled the space between her ears. Then fear, older than the mountains, a nameless dread. The color drained from the horizon, as the world plunged into midnight.

The cheers stopped. The men glanced around, unmoored in the sepia-toned night. "Where's the moon?" they chattered, "What sorcery is this?"

The only splotches of color came from the few fires still burning in the city, and the battle in the bay. Something burning touched Azula's shoulder–the feeling passed, and she realized it was Katara's hand. "I feel it too," she said, "What's going on?"

"They did it. They finally, really did it." Azula snarled, biting back the venom. The glacier groaned and cracked beneath them. Echoes of distant thunder followed, crunching ice no longer supported by the tide.

The fear rose in Katara. "What did they do?"

Azula stumbled to her feet, head still swimming with vertigo. "Folly. Madness. Sacrilege. A crime against civilization."

"You're not making sense, Una," said Lanaq. "What sort of trick is the Fire Nation playing?"

The waters in the distant bay went dreadfully still. The proud ships of the Water Tribe slowed to a crawl. The fire continued to rain down on them, no shields ice rose in their defense. Pinched between the two wings of the Fire Navy fleet, now maneuvering only with oars, calamity descended. The longships began colliding with one another as order collapsed. Ships turned to rout, shearing their brother's oars off in flight.

Their flight was intercepted by the faster Fire Navy ironclads, the wings turning in to close off retreat. But the envelopment was purely notional; the once orderly squadrons of the Water Tribe rammed and jostled into one another, fires spreading across their decks.

"The Spirit Sanctuary; what's in it?" cried Azula.

The captain shook his head. "I am forbidden to tell anyone who hasn't completed initiation."

Lanaq set a hand on his shoulder. "The Sanctuary holds the vessels of the Great Spirits Tui and La. Their union is the source of all Waterbending." Lanaq looked up at the empty sky. He opened his mouth but no words came.

A few of the benders in their party tried. No matter how they wailed or cursed, the snows would not move. "It's over!" cried one. Another tore at his hair, weeping bitter tears. The old captain dropped his pack and fell to the ground.

"Stop your whinging!" shouted Azula. "Are you warriors or are you children?"

Katara's legs shook, but she stood resolute at Azula's side. "There's a battle down there. We are needed. You can cry later."

One of the young men said, "How can we? Our Covenant is broken. We've failed. How can we face the Ashmakers without the Gift?"

"You sound like you've already given up," said Azula, unsheathing her machete. "Your sisters, your mothers, your children: they're down there and they need you now more than ever."

"I agree, but have some grace with the boys," said Lanaq.

"What hope do we have?" asked Yutu.

Azula was already marching to the trailhead. "Then we'll live without hope. There's always vengeance."

Katara chided the men as she followed after. "What? Are you really going to let some girls do the job of men?"

"You'll die!" shouted Yutu.

"We've all got to someday," was all Azula answered.

Some of the men followed after. Perhaps more stragglers would join. At any rate, Katara soon caught up with Azula's stride, grabbing the princess's hand. "Don't take this the wrong way," said Katara, "But you're more intense than usual."

Azula tutted. For once in her life, her silver tongue had escaped her. The meaning of her actions, what she'd felt when the Moon died, had all gone beyond human reason. She knew what she had to do, deep in her bones. She didn't know why. Perhaps this was what faith was. "I felt a part of me die. When Tui died, I–I heard her screams. All I know is that whoever did this cannot be allowed to live."

Perhaps this was how the story of Azula, the traitor princess, would end. For the first time, she felt her mortality. A falling star in the pitch-black night, charging into a hopeless battle. How terrified Katara must be, jogging beside her, hand-in-hand. "I want to apologize, Katara."

"For what?"

"For dragging you along in what most would call a suicide mission. Without-without your bending."

"If there really is no hope for us, then there's nothing left to be afraid of. What was it you said about my mother? That she didn't think her sacrifice was a vain or empty gesture?"

"More or less."

"I think part of finding something to live for is finding what's worth dying for."

"I suppose."

"Damn girl, you are thick sometimes."

"Hey!"

"Azula, I'm trying to tell you that I love you, work with me here."

"Oh. I love you too."

"That's better. Wish I could've said it under better circumstances. If only we had more time."

"We're not finished yet."

"That's the Azula I know."

Sokka had spied the company of Imperial Firebenders encamped around the Spirit Sanctuary just in time to watch the color drain from the world. Yue cried out and fell onto the ice. Her cries had alerted the enemy picket. Fire washed over the ice they huddled behind. Steam sizzled as Suki cradled Yue's unconscious body.

Men barked orders. No doubt they'd soon swing around and finish them. More bolts of fire blasted overhead. Suki slapped Yue's cheek. "Yue, speak to me. Speak to me."

"They slipped in just like we slipped out. Damn it, if only we'd stayed, we might have," said Sokka.

"Save it. We can't stay here, this ice won't last forever against their firepower."

Sokka peered out between blasts. He saw men huddling up by the mouth of the sanctuary. "If they don't enfilade us first." He pulled his boomerang from his belt. "Okay, don't fail me now. Suki, get ready to run."

"Gotcha."

Sokka counted the seconds, ducking under fire blasts, waiting for the enemy to make their move. Arm coiled like a spring, he waited, until at last one of the firebenders blew his horn, and three men emerged from their palisades. He flung the boomerang with all his might. "Now!"

Fire bolts shot after them, but none noticed the boomerang arcing its way to destiny. It clanged off an officer's helmet, knocking him over into his men, each spooling up a fire bolt. Shouting followed after, then a deafening boom. Bits of armor and ice sailed overhead.

"Hah!" shouted Sokka, "Next time be more careful with your blasting jelly!"

They ran and ran, Sokka holding up the rear by chucking ice chunks, rocks, and even his broke sword at their few pursuers, until they at last made it to the relative safety of the palace grounds and few bewildered guards left to hold the rear gate.

Bent over on his knees panting, Sokka laughed out loud. "Haha, you should've seen the look on their faces, Suki."

Suki was pale as a ghost, stumbling forward as she held Yue in princess carry. "Sokka…catch her before I drop her."

He caught them both as they fell. His hand fell on a wet patch on Suki's back, still hot to the touch. She screamed in agony. He pulled his hand away to find it red with blood. Flecks of charred cloth and skin had clung to his hand.

The world narrowed, everything but Suki fading to black. His ears rang, the world muffled like his head was under water. He could only cradle her head in his arms. Someone called his name, but he could barely hear it through the ringing.

"Sokka!" He turned to find Yue conscious again. She held a torn strip of her dress. "Sokka, let me."

He could only watch as Yue cleaned and dressed Suki's wound. The princess had Suki chew roots as she applied a poultice from her pouch to the burn. She wrapped the wound with a long bolt from her dress.

"We have to get her inside where it's war. You'll have to carry her for me. Sokka! Stay with me. I am counting on you. Can you do it."

Trembling, ready to hurl at any moment, Sokka nodded.

"She's going to be alright. Even without…without the Gift."

Fire Nation troops had already landed in force by the time Azula made it to the mustering point. Amidst the gray morning twilight, their battalions were assembling in the docklands. Azula could only spare a moment to watch the ships disgorging great machines of war that belched black smoke and spat steam. Without Waterbending to fight, the battlements of the first wall were ordered abandoned under the withering firepower of the enemy.

The first wall itself had been assembled just in time for the lunar…eclipse. Azula did not want to think about what had been done. It was so far beyond the pale. Who would dare to kill a god? What arrogance, what vanity? The tides rose and retreated on the shores of the Fire Nation too.

Who would dare? Only one name came to mind. She laughed bitterly. Zhao, ever the ambitious social-climbing parasite, would be the exact sort of man to burn the world just to rule the ashes.

"What's so funny?" Katara asked, following Azula down another winding staircase.

"I was just thinking, the man who would have been bold enough to do this was probably the same man in charge of my attempted assassination."

"If he is, he's collecting affronts to the gods like most men collect sea shells."

"He won't be escaping Saṃsāra if I have anything to say about it."

The war machines were chugging a low metallic beat now, like drums. Water Tribe soldiers amassed behind the wall, trembling with fear. Azula and Katara attempted to join the ranks, only to be pulled aside by a runner. The young man, tall and aristocratic, was just old enough to grow peach fuzz. He said, "Avatar. Tarqan Nunuk said to bring you straight to him."

Azula turned to Katara. "Is that a general's rank? I'm afraid my education on the North is somewhat out of date."

"Yeah," said Katara, matching the herald's brisk strides. "Like a major general, in command of a host of multiple clans. His loyalty is to the High Chief, not to any of the clans."

The cataclysm had denuded the Water Tribe of most of their artillery. A few mechanical trebuchets and other catapults continued to hurl ice boulders over the wall, but their weight paled compared to the burning missiles from the Fire Navy. They'd been forced to dodge several en route to headquarters.

The Tarqan was a man in his fifties, well seasoned, with a prominent dueling scar on his cheek. His tripped sash indicated he was a nonbender. If the weight of the present circumstances affected him, he did not let on. "Avatar," he said coolly, "I admit I am surprised you returned."

His staff glared at Azula with unconcealed hostility. She replied, "Despise me all you like, we're in the same boat."

"Your presence has brought nothing but calamity. Another ill-omen following the starcrossed princess. Perhaps if I hand you over, they will accept my terms."

"Tell me, Tarqan, were the circumstances reversed; and you were besieging the Caldera under a sunless sky, the gift of fire drowned by your stratagems, would you accept my father's offer of a white peace?"

Though the Tarqan said nothing, Azula could see that the temptation remained nonetheless.

"As I thought. You hear that rumbling, like war drums? Those are war drills. They're boring through your wall. Once they breach, soldiers will come straight through, protected by an inch of cold-rolled steel."

Another runner arrived, handing a scroll to the Tarqan. Browsing it, he said, "And what would the Fire Nation traitor's expert advice be?"

Ignoring his pique, Azula said, "Attack. You've already lost the top of the walls. You need to retake them before they can use it to enfilade your troops."

"I will be sure to note that." The Tarqan turned to his aide-de-camp. "Our chief has ordered us back to the third level. The second level was not fully erected, and he wishes to avoid another encirclement. Like the one the supposed Avatar would have us walk into." He snapped his fingers, and four sergeants came forth, pulling ropes from their belts. "Truly sorry about this, princess."

"No, you're not."

"I will hear no more from the provocateur. So good of you to come to me though."

Bound, gagged and chained together, Azula was carried back up the terraced city. When matters turned sufficiently dire, her captors summarily dropped her on the edge of a terrace, and ran for cover. She could only watch and seethe as the ill-fated attempt to avoid another encirclement turned into a rout.

The leadership of the North had grown arthritic with the war frozen in place. Eighty years of phony war had sapped them of strength. Generals grew accustomed to easy peacetime obedience.

Struggling with her bindings, Azula mused. Who knows, reroll the dice and it might have worked. But with morale already shattered, and further pummeled by another retreat in the face of the enemy, the poisonous brew of dread reached full froth. When the Fire Nation advanced faster than anticipated, striking at the heels of the retreating soldiers, the untested men damned to rear guard actions broke and ran, crashing into the retreating columns. Choke points were jammed by the ensuing human crush, while veteran Fire Nation soldiers set upon them like ravening wolves.

A familiar voice pierced the din of battle. "Azula! Katara!" cried Yue, "I've found you! Oh, La's blessings."

It was rather difficult to thank Yue with a dirty rag in her mouth, but Azula supposed she knew what the muffled babble meant. After pulling the gag out, Yue kissed her forehead.

"Tui. They-they've–" stammered Yue.

"I know. I know." As soon as the bindings came loose, Azula scooped Yue into a hug. "We're not finished yet. I swear to you."

Yue's white hair held its ethereal glow. Her skin and clothing were the only blot of color in the desaturated world. The halo of tears in her eyes had put runs in her kohl. Something unspoken waited on Yue's trembling lips.

Katara noticed too as she sloughed off the ropes. Azula knew. She knew what was to come next. What was given had to be returned.

"Yue, don't even think about it," said Katara.

"I have to. But I can't do it alone."

"There must be another way."

"If there is," Azula whispered, "I'll find it. But we can't afford to tarry any longer."

Yue clutched her necklace. "Father–he's led his personal guard down to the third ring!"

Arnook gripped his ivory pommeled sword tighter. Yue was missing. His capital besieged. His armies routed. The Lifegiving Moon slain. The weight of his failure crushed down on his shoulders. A failure as a father, a leader, and a general.

His men still followed, chanting their funeral dirges in the old tongue. He'd expected to hear this song while laying in his canoe, many years from now. So he shouted the song until he was hoarse, to let his ancestors know he was coming, that they would make a feast for him and his host in the Tranquil Deep, to welcome Arnook, son of Nanuk, one last time.

It was nearly impossible to tell friend from foe in the twilight charnel. Only the terrible fires of the Ashmakers brought color to this dying land. He clapped his sword against his shield and charged into the melee.

"To the chief!" shouted one of the bannermen, "Rally to the chief!"

Arnook had never been a great fighter. As a young man, he'd been painfully average, making up for his shortcomings with patience and temperance. He'd cultivated other talents as heir-presumptive, and thus his succession faced no serious challenge in the Kurultai.

But tonight, as he hacked and slashed his way through the Imperial Firebenders at the vanguard, dodging sword and fire by inches, he wondered if his guiding spirit had been saving all his strength, all the fight in him, for this one day when it would matter most.

Another brave young man met his end trying to claim Arnook's head. The boy bled out, gurgling bloody spittle, while his fae-touched and fire spitting brothers trampled over his body to take their turn. Arnook rained a blow down on a sergeant's helm, rippling pain up his arm, crushing the steel in a wet thud.

He continued like this, back-to-back with old friends and bitter rivals, armor and parka running red with drawn blood. Until an arrow pierced his mail, knocking the breath from his lungs. Stunned, his guard slipped, allowing a sword to stick into his belly.

The Fire Army soldier grinned, flashing his crooked yellow teeth. Arnook snarled, finding grip on the blood-slick snow, and pushed himself closer to his killer. With a mighty howl, he brought his sword crashing down on the man's temple. The blade bit deep into his skull, lodging itself forever there. One last rage against the dying light and the strength left Arnook's legs. He fell into a heap, sword still stuck in him.

He coughed, trying to stand. But now his journey was at its end. How could any man resist such savagery? The Fire Nation wielded such consummate hatred, such single-minded zeal, that they made war on the heavens themselves. What next? Would they dry up the oceans and consume the land in fire, just to claim the ashes? So lamented Arnook, son of Nanuk, last of his line, king of the lost, lord of the ruins of Agna Qel'a, devotee of a dead god.

The battlelines shattered even as his companions surged to protect his body from desecration. His chancellor Onalik interposed his shield between a firebolt and Arnook. "Protect the chief!" shouted Onalik. As the battle lines continued to melt against the onslaught, he muttered, "For pity's sake, can no one hear my prayers? Is there nothing left to protect our people?"

Arnook's eyes grew heavy. The Lifegiving Moon was gone, and it seemed there was no power left in all the world with the strength to aid their dying cause. They had been the last line between the enemy and the civilians sheltering in the citadel. The war machines of the Fire Nation advanced on their clacking treads, invincible against all their weapons. Like a body drawing breath, the enemy ranks paused, summoning their strength for a concentrated attack. Their attacks combined into a tidal wave of burning death, surging towards him.

A blue wave rose to meet the red, and for an instant Arnook wondered if the Gift of Waterbending had been returned. But it was not blue water that sent the enemy's flames crashing back on their own lines. An azure jet roared after, brighter than the midday sun. More jets soared past, til a figure leapt over him. There was no mistaking Azula's immaculate topknot.

She fought fire with fire. Even the enemy's flames danced at her beck and call, flowing around her like water, turning from crimson to blue-white before being returned tenfold. Murmurs of "traitor" and "witch" came from the Fire Nation ranks, the impotent whinging of outmatched men helpless against a force of nature. Like the morning star, Azula heralded the end of the long night.

Spears of jagged rock broke through the snow, goring several men. Thunder rippled across Azula's mail armor. She shouted, "One of you has committed a great sacrilege." Lightning cracked the twilight, leaving a trail of smoking bodies stretching from her outstretched fingers. "All who stand with him will pay with their lives!"

The soldiers howled and hissed their vain curses. But no one could touch her. Her asura grin snuffed out the fire in them. "Scared?" she said with an aristocratic laugh, "There wasn't a man among you that could have stood against me even before I awakened the power of the Avatar."

The Ashmakers did not break so easily. But even with his eyes blurred by sweat and blood, Arnook could see the chill of the graving shaking their bones and rattling their teeth. Azula was an unfettered weapon. The men who opposed her had their lives cut short. She moved like the waters, flowing around the enemy before crashing down upon them in a typhoon of fire and rock. Katara joined her in battle, the moon to her sun, and soon the Water Tribe soldiers rallied to them. Their cinder, their morning star, turned back the enemy.

Soft hands lifted his heavy head. "Father," said Yue, tears streaming. She showed strength he never imagined in her, as she gritted her teeth and lifted him from under his arms. Over the fallen, Yue dragged Arnook, High Chief of the Water Tribe, to safety.

Notes: This is the second to the last chapter of Book One. In about a week or two, I will be uploading the final chapter, followed shortly after by the Epilogue to Book One. It's been quite a journey getting here, and I'd like to thank everyone who chipped in by commenting, or who even just read and left their kudos. This is the first long fic that I've completed in a very long time, most of them have run out of steam somewhere because they were character pieces without a defined ending, or because in the long course of writing them, I'd changed so much that the story I wanted to tell now was incompatible with the story I'd written.

This won't be the end of Cinder. But it's going to be a while before you see a Book Two. I need to recharge and refine my outline, because even as meticulously as I've plotted out the whole story, things have changed in the writing. But once again, thank you all for coming on this journey with me.