(En-Route to Moat Cailin: 1/11/299) Chi-Ha I

(Fire Nation Colony: 93 A.G. (After Genocide))

"Do soldier have songs?" she asked innocently, flowery golden eyes, large and hopeful, glistened in the sun. The burning orb that gave their world life, still rested above the horizon, providing the colony with a warm orange glow. Drifting along the wind were the sounds of children playing in the town square.

"None that I have heard," Chi-Ha replied, looking to her little sister as she held a handful of sandy colored seeds in her chubby little hands. Both sat at the raised entrance of their small home near the outskirts of the town, bare feet dangling in the open air. She had been in her mother's former Academy uniform, a bit too small for her, but they could ill afford a new one. Kiyari had inherited her old clothes, just as she had their mother's, and they had been far too big. Her little body was a far cry from the filled out, muscular form she had at that age. Her sister's baggy clothing fluttered in the wind, alongside her raven curls.

"How sad," she looked down at her seeds clutched in hand. "Will they sing songs about you when you go to war?" a hopeful smile crossed her young face.

"I don't think so," she replied in earnest, before she felt her face soften. "But that would be great," Chi-Ha stoop up and sang, "Here comes Chi-Ha! Chi-HAAAAA! CHIIII-HAAAAAA!" she exclaimed in vain attempt to produce a simultaneously commanding and melodious voice.

Kiyari, giggled, "That's not a song. It's just you shouting."

"It is to me," Chi-Ha smiled, happy to be with the light of her world. "Can you think of one better?"

"No, but I'm only seven. Maybe we can plant these instead? To honor the ones who fight for our nation and those that have fallen?" Kiyari held her hand open for Chi-Ha to see. "Maybe when they grow big, it will mean the Fire Nation has finally won? The cherry blossoms will flutter in the air in celebration, and we can make jasmine tea and mother can make sweet cakes!"

Before she could speak, a series of excited shouts, a blaring horn, and the sounds of many thundering marching feet, sounded out from the village center.

"What's that?" Her little sister questioned, wide eyes staring out past their home.

"The army has come," she knew the trumpeting sounds for what they were, after having been informed by her parents several days before. "Summons from the Fire Lord for all graduates to leave for the front. The Dragon of the West is said to be marshalling troops in the east," Chi-Ha specified, a certain eagerness in her voice. 'This is what I was trained for. Perhaps I will even meet him again? Maybe even be in his Division?' her thoughts grew steely and confident, while a slight warmth spread along her cheeks. The memory of the Dragon's son, who had been nearing his own graduation when she had started her studies, and whose handsomeness had impressed her, had made her blush, and she could not help it. He had been kind, when the other children had looked down at her for her meager belongings and old clothing.

"I don't want you to go. Not yet. We still need to plant these!" Kiyari threw herself into her, and sniffled.

"Don't worry sis," Chi-Ha reassured her, hugging tightly to the tiny soft body snuggling closely to her. "I'll return once this war is done. I promise you," she pulled back from her sister and smoothed away a stray tear with her thumb. "It's an honor to serve, sis. I want to make our family and our nation proud."

Kiyari seemed unconvinced, but nodded silently anyways.

"Chi-Ha! The army is here!" her mother screeched out from within their home, almost in a panic.

"I know mother!" she replied, finding her mother's tone strange, before she released her sister. They both moved into their home, and she felt the ground begin to shake…

'This damn cold,' she idled, gripping at the reins of her steed as she continued ahead of her battalion, her annoyance growing with each passing moment spent traversing the frigid north. To others it was as a comfortable coolness, but she disliked any temperature lower than her own body heat. The march from White Harbor to Moat Cailin, to meet the princess and the rest of the Stark force nearing another six-thousand strong, had taken longer and had been more tedious than even she had anticipated. A journey having been made even more irritating by the constant ogling and suspicious stares the northern barbarians kept throwing in her and her battalion's direction. Turning back, she eyed her small group, 'I am reduced to a single veteran bender, eleven recent graduates, and a paltry five-hundred men. They are well-trained, I supposed. It is still a pitiful sight when compared to the old armies. How humiliating…' she muttered, before spinning her head to the four silently unnerving 'Repurposed' men riding alongside her. 'And you lot? I have seen many things that dishearten and sicken me, but I will admit that whatever madness spirals in Qyburn's head bring new meaning to word unnatural.' The desire to move further away from them had been a constant need, ever since they had set out from White Harbor and parted ways with Eddard Stark at the Dreadfort, but every time she moved even an inch away from them, they would close the distance. They followed no command of hers, for they only obeyed who the Fire Lord commanded them to obey, and that was the Fire Princess. 'The sooner we get to the Princess, the better,' she thought, followed by a slight sense of relief.

"Come on! Pick up the pace, you bastards! The Fire Lord wishes us to be at Cailin by week's end," she heard her second, growl, after he lifted his visor and revealed his half-burned face. He trotted along the formation, clad in black plate armor similar in likeness to the rest of the Flameguard. The only difference between he and the rest of the Dragonstone guard, was his helmet, which was an unholy combination of the man's former dog helm and a Fire Nation skull faceplate with blood-like smears marring the left side of it. She recalled that more than a few within the Dragonstone council had taken a liking to the nickname, 'Hellhound,' a name she had not found it particularly clever, all things considered, but it seemed to have stuck.

"Sir, yes, sir!" The battalion of soldiers composed of Dragonstone Flameguard and Academy benders, at her back, replied in unison, increasing speed at the Sandor's orders.

She shared a look with him, nodding her approval with a faint smile, while receiving a lopsided one in turn. Closing his visor shut, he returned to the rear of the formation, which was ahead of the Rambton and Sunglass foot, commanded by Ser Hubard Rambton and Lord Guncer Sunglass. In the distance, she spied their blazons of arms, a white ram's head with golden horns on red, and one composed of seven golden seven-pointed stars in a ring on white. The only two Narrow sea houses to have been sent by the Fire Lord, while the others, save house Velaryon, had been dispatched to the Stormlands with the Fire Lord's son. The fleet of the Silver Seahorse maintained watch over King's Landing, while their knights and footmen kept order within the streets alongside a Dragonstone contingent. As she continued on in silence, the former Lieutenant instructor turned Lieutenant-General, reached into a small satchel strapped to her side with her right hand. Her left hand retained a tight grip on to the leather reins of her steed as she felt around for a small cherry blossom seed hidden within the rawhide container. 'There you are,' she clicked her tongue, finally retrieving the sturdy little thing and palming it in her hand. Holding it tight, a soft smile lined her lips as she felt around its coarse surface. 'How was it that I was always patient with you Kiyari? How is it that a conversation with a seven-year-old was more interesting than a conversation with an adult?' Chi-Ha asked herself, as she fiddled with the seed in her hand, running it over and in-between her rough fingers. She brought the seed to her lips and gave it a soft kiss, unconcerned by how it would seem to onlookers who did not know her.

Hearing the clopping of hooves, she turned forward and spied Ser Justin nearing her position, undoubtedly armed with a question she was sure to be annoyed by. The handsome man with the pink cheeks, and blue eyes, had been adequate as a soldier, though Chi-Ha had found his gregarious nature leaving much to be desired. "Still ruminating on the days of your service to your old country?" he said upon approach, his words simultaneously piercing and grating.

"And there it is," she snorted. "You wouldn't understand, Massey. The Fire Nation was the greatest force ever fielded within the history of my world. Had it come through with us, to this wretched place, Westeros would have fallen within the week. Let alone something as insignificant as the Westerlands. The ranks of the old army were filled to overflowing with benders, and soldiers of all stripes. Hundreds of Divisions of thousands had been standard practice in the Fire Nation. I had even had the honor of commanding one, when I had been but twenty."

"Oh, this is new!" he exclaimed, the surprise evident within his aggravating voice. "How did you manage such a thing?"

"You mean as a woman?" she sneered, her grip tightening ever more upon her reins.

"My lady," he raised a placating hand, "I have seen enough of your Fire Lord to know thinking in such ways is unhealthy," he smirked with a grin nearly as infectious as the Silver-Tongue's own.

"Hmph," Chi-Ha tensed at the man's wearyingly intrusive nature. "In the old world, I had my first taste of battle. So eager to prove myself to the ghost of the man who had saved me and avenge my family, and my little sister, most of all…"

(Fire Nation Colony: 94 A.G.)

"It's alright, I will not harm you, I am Colonel Lu Ten," Chi-Ha remembered a warm voice and calloused hand reaching for her own as she huddled beneath the rubble of her collapsed home. The crushing weight of her shingled roof bearing down on her bloodied back, where droplets of salty red sweat trickled down her arms and legs. 'There would be scars,' she knew. Her appendages quivered as they remained firmly planted into the dirt and rock like stone pillars. She lifted her gaze from the small pot of water, which had miraculously been close enough to allow her small sips of its meager contents during her ordeal, and turned to face the newcomer. Her eyes had been temporarily blinded by the sudden light, before they adjusted and she saw him. A young man with a strong chin and handsome features appeared as a spirit of light to her. For the briefest of moments, she believed she had perished beneath the rubble of her destroyed home, and he had appeared to guide her to her ancestors. However, it had not been so, for the gusts of outside air, wafting in from the narrow opening the man had revealed, had dissuaded her of that illusion and brought her back to her harsh reality. A sour festering smell, that her nose had grown accustomed to in the darkness, had come full force with the outside breeze. She looked to where her sister had shouted before the collapse and found naught but bloated remains and small head wedged unnaturally between two wooden beams. A maggot infested mouth and dead grey eyes looked to her, and she cried.

(En-Route to Moat Cailin: 1/11/299) Chi-Ha I

"I managed it well enough," she lied, lowering her head just a slight as the memories threatened to emerge. 'Kiyari,' a wetness began forming in her eyes and she quickly blinked them away, refusing to remember what happened after. 'Not now.' She peered down to the seed in her palm, 'There are no songs for soldiers,' she told herself before returning the seed its leather receptacle. 'I got them back for you, little sis, but I never did get Fong…' Quickly realizing her change, she narrowed her eyes and took on her ironclad visage. "They were the Forty-First," her face grew hard, just as it had during the taking of the capital. The same stiffness crawled up her face, as the ill memories of the massacre her division had endured against the Earth Kingdom barbarians, turned the fire within her chest into a blazing inferno.

"And how did it go?" the man pressed.

"About as well as can be expected in war," she whispered, "And leave it at that. Do not press me on this, Ser Justin. Stick with your own people. I hear Hubard and Guncer do not like communing with me and mine. Hyah!" she spurred her mount ahead, leaving the man in the dust. Chi-Ha recalled all of their faces, in grim quiet of their march. 'All of them young and fresh, just as hopeful and eager as me. They had been nothing much to look at,' she admitted, 'all had been fresh out of the academy, most barely eighteen.' She shook her head, trying to dismiss the memories of those same young men and women, crushed beneath tons of rock. Others had been buried alive with only the faintest of helpless screams echoing from beneath the dirt. She looked at her hands as they grasped at the reigns of her steed, a flash of blood-soaked fingers and torn nails greeted her sight. She would never forget when she had desperately attempted to claw at the stone and damp red earth, trying to free her troops. Most had died, while others had been crippled beyond recovery. She stared at her hands once more, and found them immaculate and clean, albeit rough and calloused. Her anticipation was growing with each passing day, the need to destroy the enemies of her Fire Lord. The enemies of her savior's blood. She had been denied proper vengeance upon the Earth Benders, but she would not be denied vengeance against the lions, and the ice creatures besides. The beast she straddled, clopped along, making snorting noises as it briefly paused to sniff at some grass before continuing on. Recently promoted to Lieutenant-General, she knew what to do when she arrived. The princess would be waiting for her and she was to guide and teach the Fire Lord's daughter what she knew of war. Though in truth, even she doubted that the young princess needed it, for Ursa had bested the most avid strategists and combatants on Dragonstone when she had been only seven. 'Princess Ursa was born for war. Like the rest of her family,' Chi-Ha knew. 'It's just as well,' she thought. 'The Fire Nation does not follow fools nor cowards.' Wishing to distract herself, she brushed her feelings aside, and found her more hideously scarred bedmate returning from the rear of their small host. She led her mount nearest to him. "Major Clegane!" her voice rumbled in the wind as she pulled up at his side.

"What is it?" was his brusque reply, which came out as more of a bark than anything else.

'How fitting' she thought, before correcting him. "Yes, Lieutenant-General? Or ma'am. Or sir."

"Or…," he began to mutter under his breath, before she cut him off.

"I would recommend you do not finish that word, Major. It might force me put you on your arse," she shot back, her painful ruminations having given her the urge for a fight, but having grown familiar with his sharp and somewhat perverse tongue, she knew he meant no offense. "And I definitely wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of the men, again."

The large man scowled at her then mumbled, "Apologies. Yes, Lieutenant-General?"

"That's better," she replied.

"What do you make of these northerners, Major?" she whispered, looking ahead at the long line of men several paces ahead, all clad in chainmail, and boiled leathers that seemed too loose in areas. All the primitives ahead lacked the uniformity of Dragonstone forces, where every soldier was outfitted according to their roles. All the knights and men-at-arms trained to Academy standards, bore full plate in the colors of house Baratheon of Dragonstone, while the benders were clad in standard Fire Nation uniforms. Their crossbowmen and archers, though both nowhere near as deadly as the Yuyan archers of the old world, were issued simple cone helmets with leather neck guards. A combination of shoulder pads and an armored collar protected their upper bodies, while leathern, sleeveless robes, and heavy boots covered everything else.

"They are hardy, stubborn, and willing to get into a good fight, but…" Major Clegane traced his eyes over the northmen ahead. "Most of them are tired old men and green boys, Lord Stark kept most of the better warriors, out of fear for those damned Others," her scarred compatriot grunted. "But other than that, who cares, as long as they can hold a sword? They will not be marching into war alone. I'm sure Stark's boy has fitter men awaiting us at Cailin, perhaps not the best, but better than these." Sandor answered simply, his eyes returning back to the path ahead.

"Hmph. One can only hope Lord Stark has not issued his first born the dredges of northern troops," she shrugged at his terseness, before placing a wary eye at the northerners marching at the head of the formation. "So an army of six-thousand old men and green boys? How very useful," Chi-Ha stated, letting the sarcasm drip into her words. "Well, I suppose it couldn't be helped," she frowned. "The Fire Lord anticipated such a reaction from Stark after the revelation in the caverns."

"Revelation?" the Major stopped his horse and turned to her with a baffled expression. "You make it seem like it was planned, the bloody thing broke out and nearly killed everyone! Myself included!"

"But it didn't," Chi-Ha pointed out, "because the Fire Lord broke the creature with her bare hands."

"Not before it murdered the Overseer," the fury shone in the scarred man's eyes, and she knew he had meant no offense, for like she, he had developed a mutual sort of understanding and respect for the Lady Mai.

"Yes, I know," her voice quieted. "But through her sacrifice, no one, not you, not Lord Stark, not Prince Oberyn, nor all of those who bore witness to that deed, will ever forget the Fire Lord's power."

"Bah! Hers was a life that should never have been sacrificed," he growled, and shook his head in exasperation, before continuing on. "You fire people are all mad."

"I would say the same of you Westerosi, were it not for Lords Stannis and Stark," she retorted. "To quote the Dragon of the West, "'There is a fine line between insanity and genius. '" Chi-Ha recalled her teachings from long ago. Back when she had been but a student at the Imperial Academy. Back when she had another life on another world. Before he could sputter a reply, she withdrew and headed away from the small Dragonstone detachment. "I'm going to go check on the Flayed Men, Major. Remain here. I will return."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, seemingly off put by her abrupt response.

Chi-Ha spurred her horse forward, as her eyes quickly scanned the northern detachment for her quarry. At the far left-center of the formation she spotted the only one of the Northern lords that had a different reaction to her and her Dragonstone detachment. One that held no suspicion nor fear, but a disquieting inquisitiveness and an unsurprising amount of fearful respect.. 'Bolton,' she mouthed. The pale-eyed Lord of the Dreadfort, had taken to the habit of silently scanning the recent graduates within her division, though more specifically the females, and even more specifically the glowering dragonseed girl, Syrah. The daughter of Sergeant Jiong-Yu and a dragonseed peasant woman named Jaslin, was petulant and held an increasingly high confidence in herself. Frequently seen by the side of Commander Chang's son, Syrah's bending skill was better than most and easily ranked within the top ten of the Academy, holding even more potential than her Fire Nation father. A man whom had reached his zenith long ago. Her general studies had also yielded a sharp and callous mind. 'A popular girl, not lacking in wits, skill, nor beauty, but with a fire to match. A fine, if somewhat hellish, catch,' she supposed. 'Especially for a Westerosi.' Following her was an entourage consisting of the boy Haruto, and the two girls Saede and Helna, the last of which were half-sisters born from Major Ri-Long and two peasant women who lacked the dragon's seed. The girl's school-companion, Takkar, son of Chang, had been separated from her and dispatched to Storm's End under the command of Zha-Leng and Prince Steffon. The remaining seven graduates lingered at the rear of the formation, and all of them wore red.

Noticing her glances and approach, the Leech Lord tilted his head. "My lady," he addressed her simply, ignoring the ranks of Fire Nation military as he was out of her chain of command.

"Find something interesting, Lord Bolton?" she came up beside him, and he pursed his thin lips in thought. Prior to leaving the capital, the Fire Lord had informed her of certain promises made to the brooding Northern Lord, and judging by his looks towards the dragonseed, she could only guess at what those promises had been. 'A marriage alliance, perhaps?' she suspected after remembering having met the man's son when they had passed through the Dreadfort. Catching the Leech Lord's eyes as she thought on the subject, they both nodded and returned to staring out at the path ahead.

"Of a sort," he replied, before turning his head and facing ahead with twinkling ghostly-grey eyes. "Your Fire Lord wastes no time in securing alliances."

"She is not one to be idle in times of war, or peace," she answered back. 'Men like him were a silver a dozen in Ozai's court,' she studied him, recalling the cutthroat circles within the Fire Nation capital, and all the ambitious men therein. Men who feared the Fire Lord far too much to let their ambition manifest in his presence. "How are your men?"

"In good spirits, I suppose. Many of them wish to see battle," the man continued, his face having never shifted from its calculatingly stony guise. "Moat Cailin is three full-days away. Are we to march the following day after our arrival?"

"That is the plan. The Fire Lord requests no delays in the march," she said to him, taking in whatever small bits of body language she could gleam off him, and finding herself even more perplexed as they continued on.

"The butcher is eager to lop off the head of the lion, isn't she?"

"In a manner of speaking," Chi-Ha answered, before idly looking into the sky.

"If you don't mind my asking, my lady, but how was it in the capital? I've heard rumors," he seeming to lean into his words.

"I'll admit to reminiscing, more than once, on the fighting that had occurred at the capital during Cersei's attempted coup," she felt a grim smile played upon her lips as she spoke. "When she sent her thugs to arrest the Fire Lord's followers, they did not find helpless babes, but soldiers and nothing but slaughter. The white knight, Moron Trunt, barged in with the Queen's lackeys, all of them wearing smiles and grins, seemingly expecting an easy victory. Eager to not disappoint them, I had gladly obliged, and before long those same smiles had turned to looks of fear." She remembered the fire in her blood as it took hold of her body, fueling her strength and power as she dispatched the ill-trained brutes and tossed the grubby-faced man out of the teashop with her bare hands. "Unbeknownst to either of us, the Grandmaster had been waiting outside in ambush, for he had a look of surprise splashed upon his face, at the sight of me and my men before we converged on what remained of the Lannister dogs."

(King's Landing: 11/12/298 AC)

"What in the spirit world are you doing here? You're supposed to be protecting the manor!" Xai had bellowed to her once the spineless white-cloaked knight had fled.

"I was, but the cowards gave up after thirty of their number were roasted by the statue," she had told him. "Besides, I left the majority of my men behind to ensure the safety of those within the manor. I only intended to check and see if the teashop was secured as well. And it is, so now I can return."

(En-Route to Moat Cailin: 1/11/299) Chi-Ha I

"The sudden chaos of street fighting had not been expected by anyone, save perhaps the Grandmaster. But even then, I'm not certain," she patted her steed. "However, once the fighting had started, it had been as good as over. News had spread quickly, after the attacks on Dragonstone Manor and the Opal Dragon. Hordes of the Fire Lord's red spies had scattered out from the shadows and commenced small raids against the treacherous gold cloaks and ambitious lions. I remembered spotting dozens of small swirling black and white pillars rising above the rooftops, no doubt from fellow benders having retaliated against their red and gold armored foes."

"I imagine it to have been quite the sight," he said, in a low voice. "Perhaps if you would indulge me for a moment?"

"Yes?"

"Can this power of yours be inherited?" he questioned finally, dropping all pretense, as he glanced back towards the Syrah girl.

"It can," she followed his gaze, and frowned.

"And how is the strength of your flames discerned? Blood? Training?" Bolton continued, turning back to face her.

"A bit of both, I would say," she nodded towards the girl. "Her mother is a dragonseed peasant, and her father is a soldier of low-rank whose flames are nowhere near as strong as hers."

"Hmm, how interesting," he lingered on his words. "Would her father happen to be predisposed to have her wed to someone?"

"I imagine he would be, if he wasn't scared of her," she smirked, loathing the girl's arrogant attitude but proud that she would not let herself be treated as a marriage token, at least not by someone inferior. The man raised a brow as she spoke, almost surprised at the notion of a daughter making demands of their father.

"Perhaps I should wait and see how she does in battle first?" he frowned, though the twinkle in his dead eyes had not left since they had begun their conversation.

"If it interests you so, assuming she declines. An Agni Kai can settle it," she suggested, realizing now that it truly had been a marriage pact the Fire Lord had promised, or at the very least alluded to, during their last meeting. "Perhaps not one declared by her father, but the Fire Lord herself if she deemed it necessary."

"We shall see. For now, we much reach Moat Cailin in all due haste," he answered humbly, then rode off towards the front of his men, while the flayed man banner fluttered in the cold wind.