It hadn't been that long since they had split off from Iroh and Toph, yet to the Imperial Guards it felt like an eternity: the riverbank they were running through had been emptied of water, but they couldn't seem to catch up to the man responsible for that particular crime against nature. The longer they went without reaching him, the less likely it would be that they'd succeed at stopping his newest plan…
"He must be traveling through the river itself!" Rui Shi exclaimed, running beside the captain of the squad. The man flinched upon being addressed by the odd one out amongst his group "He's changing the river's course and using the water to speed himself further away…"
"Upriver?! That sounds like madness!" replied the captain "He cannot possibly be that powerful…!"
"If he weren't, he wouldn't have gotten so far ahead of us!" Rui Shi said, gritting his teeth as they continued onwards: there was still no sign of the Stingray, even after they had rounded the last trees in the area.
The first of a set of hills loomed ahead, just beyond the trees: from the looks of it, the river's source was somewhere within those mountains, judging by the empty, moist soil and the polished rocks in the river's basin, all across the hills' slopes.
"He can't be far…" said the captain, attempting to masquerade his obvious nervousness with determination as he glared at the exposed river basin: the place they had slowed at might have been a waterfall merely an hour ago.
As much as the second squad's captain didn't wish to admit it, it seemed Rui Shi's assessment about the enemy's power might be accurate: if he had the strength to climb a running waterfall, and moreover, steal away its water for his purposes… oh, but it was pointless to worry: he was only a waterbender, only a savage. There was no way a squad of Imperial Firebenders would fail to defeat him.
"Press on! We will see to finishing off this enemy of our nation!" the captain declared, and as pompous as his words sounded, he spoke them as earnestly as possible.
"Captain! Sir, I can hear the rush of water!" exclaimed one of the guards.
He raised a hand towards the source of the sound. It was beyond the hill, past the mountains that blocked their path: in the factory's direction.
"We'll go around this hill!" the captain exclaimed, unable to mask the anxiety in his voice anymore "If this waterbender is readying an attack on the factory, we must stop him before he can unleash it!"
"Yeah, why climb that steep a mountain if the target's the factory…?" agreed another guard.
Their brief break to assess the situation offered them a short chance to catch their breaths: they were on their way again moments later, rushing past the foot of the mountain, once again entering the thicket of trees while hugging the mounds' edge as best as they could. Rui Shi followed the rest of the group, glancing about himself warily in case the Stingray reappeared, but a chance glance at the mountain beside them, once they had already rounded a fair amount of it, offered a sudden revelation for him… just as another guard in the group caught sight of the factory, further down the plain where they were running right now.
Water was rushing, at full speed, down the mountain and towards the factory, not even a full kilometer away from where they stood. There was no basin this time: nothing could stop the rushing water as it splashed its way across the plain on the forest's outskirts, guided forward by a man who, much as Rui Shi had anticipated it, was submerged to the waist in the flowing water, waving his arms to direct the chaotic river's movements.
"No… no!" exclaimed the captain, stepping forward to give chase.
"Wait!" Rui Shi cried out, but the man ignored him, as did all the other guards "You won't have it any easier to defeat him by…!"
By attacking head-on and nothing more, is what he had meant to say, but the rest of his group had already rushed forward, hoping to reach the waterbender before his waterbending-powered river crushed the factory and everyone within.
Yet Rui Shi had noticed something else within the mountain, something the others had ignored before charging into battle. He gritted his teeth and turned towards the tall hills, on his way to the ice blockade he'd caught a glimpse of: the Stingray had used a fair amount of the river's water to create a massive barrier of ice. The sturdy obstacle caused the rushing water to change course. Therefore, instead of flowing through its proper basin, now it was charging in the entire opposite direction, crushing everything in its wake.
If he could take down that ice blockade, as large as it might be, Rui Shi would successfully divert some of the enemy's water supply, as it would return to its natural course. It wouldn't be possible to stop the massacre the enemy was hoping to unleash, altogether… but if the torrent was rerouted anew, the Stingray's water supply would run out eventually.
Betting everything on his new strategy, Rui Shi took to trudging through the wilderness, right next to a chaotic, rushing river that crashed into the vegetation, tearing trees out of the ground: they would roll down the hill, joining the rushing river. He tried his best to focus on reaching that barrier, but he would be too late at this rate… well, if he kept going on foot, that was.
Rui Shi raised his hands for impulse before slamming them down at either side of his thighs and unleashing an inferno of power with his feet and hands: the propulsion shot him upwards, and he succeeded at aiming up his flight towards the ice barrier. Once he was close enough, he eased his bending until he could trot up to the barrier safely: the water's rushing roar was deafening just beside the rushing river's unnatural obstacle, and it splashed Rui Shi with a spray of cold water, resulting from the collision of the falling water and the ice blockade. Just beyond the barrier, a muddy, drying basin waited for the water to return to it…
"So be it" Rui Shi whispered, raising his hands before tearing down the massive ice barrier.
Rui Shi's flames poured out of his fists with determination: even so, regardless of how much work he put into this bending feat, the firebender knew he wouldn't be able to prevent the worst of the water's impact against the factory.
The Imperial Guards had given chase to the Stingray, but they could tell it would be to no avail: the water was far faster than their feet could hope to be. It was aided by the waterbender who wouldn't stop swaying his arms in perfect, circular motions, encouraging the water to continue rushing down the plain under his guidance.
The rolling, thunderous sound of the water rushing in their direction reached the Domestic Forces' soldiers when they had only just gathered the injured in the factory's hangar. The situation was already urgent, and the ominous noise did nothing to ease their rising anxiety.
"What the hell's that?" the group's captain said, glancing out of the hangar's wide opening: it offered a clear view of the mountain in the distance.
"What…? What now?" asked his second-in-command, his voice whiny "Haven't we had enough already? We have so many injured…!"
The captain raised his hand to silence him, fear and dread tearing through him as that rumbling sound seemed to come closer. He stepped towards the very end of the hangar, chills tingling in his body…
The incoming wave of water finally became visible in the distance.
"What on earth…?" he asked, his voice trembling as he failed to give the situation credit.
Water, that was certainly water, and it was coming towards them… water that was meant to wash out the factory, to kill as many of the soldiers as it could with the force of the most unstoppable tidal wave. Paralyzing fear overwhelmed the soldier: what could they do? Head into the underground tunnel the reinforcements had come from? What for? It would be flooded by the incoming water, just as everything else would be, unless an earthbender could seal it successfully, and the only earthbenders nearby right now were enemies. And that thought froze him yet again: they had restrained and captured the foes who had been defeated by now, they were completely helpless to defend themselves against this massive water attack just as the soldiers were. Was that waterbender so unconcerned with the fate of his allies that he'd gladly sacrifice them for his cause…?
For it went without saying that this was the waterbender's doing: he was visible in the crest of the rushing water, the proud artificer of this liquid avalanche they had no defense against. What could they do? Was there any hope left? The Fire Nation's proud soldiers, killed in action by the power of water… it was, of course, the worst possible scenario to imagine, a scenario the Fire Lord would never accept, yet it was also inevitable, as far as the Domestic Forces' captain could tell. There was nothing to be done anymore: they couldn't possibly climb onto the inactive hot-air balloons and hope they would offer them any protection, let alone when no one knew how to use them: they were about to die. They truly were…
"Y-you guys… turn around. Don't look outside!" he exclaimed, rushing towards the rest of his men. The fear in his voice, and his countenance, was quickly contagious.
"What's going on?!" exclaimed one of the uninjured soldiers.
"Are we… not going to make it?" asked a wounded man, whose arm and leg had earthen spikes protruding through them. His pained face betrayed he was struggling to stay conscious.
"Don't think about that" said the captain, gritting his teeth as he extended his arms, as though to embrace his fellow soldiers "Don't… don't think about it at all"
There was no escape. Running wouldn't help. They had too many wounded soldiers to leave the factory anymore. Even if the airship arrived just now, just as the gladiator had promised, it would be impossible to load all the injured onto its deck before the water reached them. It was the end of the line… just as it had been for so many other soldiers before. So many who had given their lives to their duty of defending the Fire Nation. It was, he knew, an honorable death… at least, that was how everyone would see it. He hoped he had enough time to convince himself of that before the water arrived.
The sounds were louder yet, as though a waterfall was rushing in on them. The earth trembled, as did the metallic flooring of the hangar, and they thought they heard the voice of a man, laughing without restraint as the unleashed river loomed closer, threatening to claim their lives in a matter of moments…
It was impossible to discern, amidst all that noise, the loud, rushing footsteps right outside the building, footsteps that stopped right past the hangar. Yet the sudden roar of a female voice did break through the loud sounds of water and the laughter of the artificer of this catastrophe…
She clenched her fists, her muscles bulging with the power she was infusing into each of her movements. Her feet were planted firmly on the solid, dry ground underneath her: she felt every inch of earth and she would use all of it, if that was what it took to defend her position and protect this building against the madman who was trying to destroy it.
A new rumbling sound, accompanied by a much stronger trembling of the earth, took the soldiers by surprise: the earthquake was so powerful some of the metal flooring underneath grew them unstable. Yet that noise had been the herald of sudden, unthinkable salvation:
A massive earthen wall was rising violently, suddenly, before all their eyes. A collective gasp ran through the group as the earthquake continued, while the wall continued to rise before them… until their eyes finally found the source of the unthinkable earthbending feat: the same girl who had carved the tunnels with which the reinforcements had arrived.
The group of Domestic Forces under Iroh's command gasped upon sighting the earthbender, astonished by the screams she released as she exerted all her power into building that wall… a wall that rose until it towered over the very factory. It was impossible to tell how thick it was from where they lingered in the hangar: even so, the soldiers had been utterly floored by the feat the young Beifong had been capable of, at such short notice.
Iroh hadn't lagged far behind his gladiator: he stopped beside her, chest heaving as he took in the large wall: he had seen the incoming water wave and he had suggested this course of action, as long as Toph could handle it. As it was, it seemed his young protégé was at the ends of her stamina, breathing with difficulty, as a drowning person might.
"Toph…!" Iroh called her, placing a hand upon her shoulder "I'm here, I'll stand by you…"
"I… know…" she coughed up, her arms trembling lightly "He's… he's coming, Iroh. We've got to…"
Her words were lost when the water crashed violently into the wall: the earth shook again, and Toph nearly broke her stance upon the impact, but Iroh's arms tightened around her, ensuring she would remain in place. The earthbender snarled, putting further power into her stance, stretching her arms out in the hopes of keeping the deadly water, and the objects it carried with it, at bay…
And the culprit for this onslaught of water now bent himself upwards with a whirlpool that served as a tower, snarling at the tall wall that had stopped him, at the very last moment, from claiming the victory he had longed for.
"Earthbenders?!" he said, casting a frantic glance about himself to track down whoever was responsible for this sabotage "Serving the Fire Nation?! Wherever you are, I will find you all, scum traitors! Scum traitors!"
He roared the last words repeatedly, keeping his prosthetic hand in a steady position while using the other to slam water into the wall, as a liquid battering ram. Each crash threatened to break through the wall, regardless of Toph's efforts to tighten the rocks. The Stingray was aided as well by the tree trunks his impromptu river had uprooted earlier, large solid projectiles that coursed fast and violently along with the water…
Finally, the Stingray's eyes focused on the two people who stood right behind the wall. The small girl was clearly the earthbender… and she appeared to be alone. Behind her stood an old man, and his features weren't all that unfamiliar… the old Crown Prince? The Stingray's face broke into a wild smirk, and he screeched in celebratory, sadistic glee. Just two targets, and one of them happened to be one of the men he had longed to destroy since his first incursion into Fire Nation lands…
"It was about time I finally killed one of you royals!" he exclaimed: Iroh raised his head, meeting the crazed eyes of the menacing waterbender, hovering above the wall's heights in his tower of swirling water.
"Toph…!" Iroh said, though he knew she was at her limit by now: she wouldn't be able to do anything else to protect them while the Stingray attacked.
Which meant their defense would fall to him.
Iroh released Toph from his grip just as the Stingray hoisted a potent water stream out of the river and thrusted it upon them. The Dragon of the West drew back his right arm, packing power within his muscles that he soon unleashed in the form of wide flames: the water that fell into his fire evaporated quickly, resulting in heated steam that rose towards the Stingray.
The waterbender snarled, abating Iroh anew, as though in a tantrum… though Iroh noticed the slow, methodical move of his natural hand contrasted strongly against the savage slaps he performed with the prosthetic one, slaps that the running river mimicked perfectly in time with his movements.
Any lesser bender, without enough experience, might have chalked the methodical movement to nothing, perhaps assuming it would be the means through which he held up his spinning water tower in place. Iroh, however, could already tell how insanely talented and powerful this waterbender could be: he glanced towards Toph and wasn't surprised, in the slightest, to find tendrils of water with ice tips had stretched over the wall, beyond Iroh's field of vision, sneaking dangerously towards his gladiator.
"Toph!" Iroh exclaimed, jumping towards her and outstretching both his arms as he stood behind her.
The fire engulfed the water and the ice at once: twin bolts of blazes rushed out of each of Iroh's hands, evaporating the water and melting the ice effectively, though it was clear the Stingray wouldn't relent even then.
"Iroh…!" Toph exclaimed, gritting her teeth. She could feel the heat of his flames, and as much as she had fought firebenders countless times by now, she couldn't feel all that comfortable in the midst of flames as a firebender might.
Yet she would have to endure it: the Stingray was deviously talented, shooting his icy tendrils at Toph from different angles, some so complicated that Iroh might just fail to protect her properly… until the old General surprised his enemy by swirling his arms in circular motions. A curtain of fire wrapped around them, blocking all the water and ice that might try to reach them for as long as Iroh might be able to bend.
"You can't hide forever, pathetic ashmaker!" shouted the Stingray "You'll die, all of you! Die, and pay for your nation's rotten sins! And all the traitors will die too! Traitors… where is he now, eh?! Where's that damn Blue Wolf?! I'll gut him myself!"
The whooshing sound of flames was strong enough that the earthbender's extraordinary hearing couldn't quite pick up the words of the enemy. She snarled, though, knowing there had to be something else to do. She was still holding the barrier in place while Iroh defended them… but it wasn't enough. What more could she possibly do? That madman wouldn't stop until everyone was dead, so it stood to reason that she had to get rid of his water somehow. Evaporating that much water through firebending would take ages: they needed more power than that. Something to do away with the liquid, altogether, something an earthbender could do…
The idea sprung into her head suddenly, as good as randomly, and she might have smiled for it if only she had strength enough to do so. But as it was, she'd have to exert whatever power she still had left in this final, chaotic attempt to protect the factory and the countless injured soldiers inside it.
She slammed a foot forward: with the power of her extraordinary bending, Toph crafted a massive crack just behind the wall she had erected. It broke across the plain, and to the Stingray's horror, more water than he could control rushed down the hole immediately. He screamed in outrage, bending as much of it away from the fissure as he could, but it wasn't long before his whirlpool tower had crashed, seeing him spiraling down behind the wall until he vanished from both Iroh and the soldiers' lines of sight.
Toph's labored breaths were far more desperate now, and Iroh lowered his arms, allowing the fire shield he'd weaved to vanish as he reached for his gladiator, ensuring she wouldn't fall to the ground.
"What… what did you do?" he asked her: the tall wall blocked away the proper view of Toph's strategic solution.
"Ripped open… the earth underneath the water" Toph explained, closing her eyes "Though I didn't get the bastard, but… not that much water anymore, right?"
"Right… right" Iroh said, smiling slowly.
She had torn the land asunder, then: Iroh could barely imagine to what depths the water would fall, considering how much power Toph had put into her latest defensive move. Around ten highly qualified earthbenders might have been capable of emulating the earthbending feat she had just performed, as far as Iroh could tell… and she had handled it all on her own, right after spending the better part of an hour digging through tunnels at her highest possible speed.
"You… you did well. Very well, Toph" Iroh smiled, rubbing her back as she slumped in his arms.
"I… I'm tired…" she groaned, closing her eyes "Sorry… can't really… think…"
"Don't worry anymore, Toph. Rest. I'll keep us safe, if it comes to that" Iroh said.
A foreboding feeling lingered in the air over what remained beyond the wall: while a large portion of the water had leaked underground, it wasn't all of it… and Toph had already known she hadn't defeated the enemy. The Stingray remained above ground, and even if he had lost most of his water, he was far from finished fighting.
"You won't… you won't take this from me!" he screeched, whipping his head back to seek further waterpower from his improvised river…
But there was no more water flowing in his direction.
The realization floored the Stingray, as he amassed as much of the water as he could, that which hadn't drained down the crack. What had happened with his river? The water he had redirected, turned towards the factory…
Had someone found his ice dam? Had they destroyed it? His blood boiled at the possibility and he snarled back at the mountain… just in time to spot a group of men in red robes, running towards him.
"Ashmakers… ASHMAKERS!" he roared, packing a powerful waterbending attack he cast towards the incoming Imperial Guards.
The guards spread out, ensuring the waterbender wouldn't have a chance to strike all of them. They hadn't known how to proceed, how to fight back against the Stingray at all, but when the water had drained underground, the way had been clear for them to reach the enemy. The captain had noticed the odd one out in their group had lagged behind, but it wasn't until the river vanished that he understood why: it appeared Rui Shi had reinstated the natural course of the river. As apprehensive as he was of the Princess's pet guard, he couldn't help feeling grateful for his decision to do away with the waterbender's elemental supply. He hadn't taken up the flashiest job, but he had done what was necessary… just as an Imperial Guard was expected to.
"Attack as one!" the captain roared, packing a powerful fire blast in his arms: he didn't bother checking whether his companions had followed his command or not, trusting them fully.
The sizable water stream coming their way could be evaporated: the Stingray's attack was impulsive, even if no less threatening. The five bolts of fire crashed into the stream, defusing its power and changing into steam that charged the air with water particles.
The Imperial Guards resumed their stride towards the now defenseless Stingray… yet, for a defenseless man, he seemed awfully pleased with himself, smiling wildly. Was he that eager to welcome death?
Unbeknownst to the guards, a mischievous idea had crossed the Stingray's mind after they had done away with his attacks: he glanced into the breach on the ground, reaching out his natural hand towards it. He could feel it… amidst the heat, there it was: the very water the earthbender had attempted to do away with wasn't merely in free fall, pooling in the depths of the earth's core: the Fire Nation was a highly volcanic place. And so, just as his last attack had been transformed into a mere film of white steam, he could see similar steam rising from the depths of the crack, where the falling water had crashed directly into lava. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to reclaim all of it… but he could already feel some of the particles, rising into his bending range.
And the best part was that the Imperial Guards wouldn't know what had hit them until it was too late.
The captain was packing a new charged attack, aiming it at the waterbender, when the Stingray raised his hand, tightening his fingers into a fist before reeling it towards himself, violently. The captain unleashed his attack, ignoring him outright: what water did he have left for his devious purposes? He was merely trying to break his focus, it was obvious that that was all he…
An ice spike broke through his armored shoulder: if not for his movements as he ran, it would have pierced through his heart instead.
"Captain!" screamed one of the soldiers, and his shout was followed by the mad laughter of the wild waterbender: he was back to bending as he pleased, raising steam out of the earthbending crack and shifting its nature to liquid and ice as he saw fit.
The enemy's unpredictability and resourcefulness floored the rest of the Imperial Guards: one of them reached for the captain, but the Stingray blocked his path with a barrage of hot water, splashing in between the two men. He still managed to raise more water, wielding it as a shield once the first guards were within range, turning it into a weapon anew as soon as the guards' offensive had let down.
What had appeared an attainable victory for moments was clearly not so simple anymore: the Stingray cackled on, raising as much water as he could from the depths of the earth, using the steam to permeate the guards' clothing, without their awareness… and they continued to fight as best as they could, their fire clashing against the Stingray's liquid shields, until the waterbender clenched his fist again, crystalizing the droplets of water on the enemy's bodies.
One by one, the guards faltered, their fire fading, their strength waning: the temperature clash was too strong. Try as though they might, no matter how deeply they dared breathe, their power had weakened considerably, for the Stingray was expertly weaving frostbite into their bodies at will.
"Pathetic ashmakers! Your foolish flames can't even compare to what I can do!" he laughed "It's time for payback! For all the years I was left to rot in a cage…! I will fulfill my mission! I will kill all of you, and then the Fire Lord! The Fire Lord!"
The last standing guard, barely capable of moving anymore, still attempted to bend at the Stingray, only to see his fire blast extinguished by the gas water the Stingray would bend expertly around his weakened fire. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to destroy the factory quite as he had intended… but he would kill many soldiers now, just as he had killed plenty earlier. That had to count for something.
"Where's that scum traitor now, eh?!" he laughed, smirking as he continued to freeze the guards "I'm killing your buddies, Blue Wolf brat! I'm killing your precious smokebreathers! Why aren't you fighting me like a man this time?! Coward! Scum traitor! Where are you?!"
Once the frost that clung to their uniforms seemed to freeze every guard as intended, the Stingray turned towards the wall behind him again: the remaining enemies were hiding back there, weren't they? All he had to do was break through that wall, whether by bringing it down with his bending somehow or using the bending to boost himself atop it… and then he'd find him. He'd find the Blue Wolf, and he'd make him pay for his treachery, for his bootlicking, for his shamelessness…
Gradually, the waterbender amassed his again element, drawing it from the moist ground, the rising steam, even the trees nearest to the battlefield. He didn't stop ranting as he worked, focused on gathering as large a water supply as possible… and he disregarded all caution and good sense, lowering his guard to whatever was happening behind him. Why would he still worry about the Imperial Guards now, when the threat they had posed was now minimal, meaningless, as they were frozen cold where he'd left them…?
And with his rambling covering for any sounds he might have paid attention to otherwise, the Stingray failed to realize he hadn't accounted for every single Imperial Guard who had given him chase earlier.
"I'm coming for you, boy!" exclaimed the Stingray: he had amassed a worrisome amount of water by now, perhaps enough to break through the wall indeed "Cower all you like, I'll stop at nothing to destroy you and pay you back a thousand times for what you did to me, Blue Wolf…!"
"You don't get the privilege of choosing your opponent today"
The Stingray turned around abruptly, attacking instinctively with a powerful whip of water with a rock-solid ice shard for a tip – his signature move. As the Imperial Guard in question averted the attack, jumping out of the whip's reach, the Stingray snarled upon finding this sneaky guard, whoever he was, had snuck up silently on him while he gathered the water: he had thawed the other Imperial Guards, though they remained in bad shape, especially their leader.
That he might have to fight alone didn't seem to deter his new opponent, though. As the firebender raised his hands in a defensive stance, the Stingray smirked.
"You're the one from earlier, aren't you? Sneaky bastard" he said "Were you too afraid to face me earlier, and you hid away so I wouldn't freeze you to death too? Because I'll just do the honors now, if that's how you want it!"
"Afraid?" Rui Shi repeated, smirking under his helmet "I was rather busy, actually. Breaking apart your ice dam, that is"
The words finally caused the crazed smile to disappear from the Stingray's face. The man suddenly snarled ferociously, screeching as he used the water he'd gathered to assault this enemy: it was his fault he had run out of water, then? Oh, he'd kill him now, never mind the Blue Wolf. This one would die, and then he'd track down the bootlicking gladiator and he'd maim him as badly as he'd been maimed… and then he'd kill everyone else slowly in front of him, one by one, until that damned southerner lost his mind to despair and begged for the end of his life too. It was no less than a traitor deserved…
But first, the Imperial Guard. This eyesore of an ashmaker wouldn't pester him any longer.
Rui Shi had been as efficient at destroying the ice dam as possible: he had melted the bottom of the massive ice structure, allowing the water to aid him in pushing against the ice, thawing it with the help of his flames. He hadn't waited around to see if the frozen structure would collapse completely, though: he had raced towards the factory once the river had returned to its natural course, following the same path his fellow guards had taken, but he had arrived shortly after their attempt to fight against the Stingray had been foiled. Rui Shi had approached his allies stealthily, aiding them in regaining warmth, despite knowing the temperature shock they'd suffered wouldn't allow them to fight anymore, at least, not in the immediate future. The captain, of course, was the most worrisome one: if the ice in his wound melted, he might bleed to death just as he would if the spike were removed. Rui Shi needed to defeat the enemy, at haste, if he hoped to get him to safety… and that was exactly what he intended to do as he glared down at the approaching water whips with ice tips.
Packing a powerful kick, Rui Shi struck at the closest spikes, succeeding at melting the ice and evaporating some of the water. Yet the Stingray continued to attack as he pleased, striking away while cackling at Rui Shi's struggle.
"If you wanted to die so badly, you should've let me do it in the forest!" he laughed "All ashmakers must die, die, DIE!"
He swatted at Rui Shi with further water as he spoke, emphasizing his words with strikes. Rui Shi deflected and defended himself, knowing he wasn't in the best position to attack now. He had no back-up, no allies to help him, and the Stingray was focused only on him.
Yet… those tendrils of water were stretched out, as far as they could go. Perhaps he was wrong to assume as much… but it seemed as though the waterbender controlled the ends of his water branches. They behaved as fingers might, Rui Shi assumed: to move a finger, one couldn't simply move a knuckle without affecting the tip's direction. Perhaps, then, there was one sure way to finish this… a very dangerous one. It'd be a gamble… but one he had no choice but to take.
"So weak! And you call yourselves Imperial Guards?!" the Stingray shouted as he swatted away at Rui Shi, who could only weave fire defensively… and whose defense crumbled momentarily, giving the Stingray the perfect chance to strike away at him.
The ice shard nearly struck Rui Shi's jaw, but he turned his head just in time for the attack to slam into his helmet instead, flinging it off his head; the ice shard scratched at his cheek. It would hurt, he supposed, eventually… but for now, he had to move. He had given the Stingray a pyrrhic victory: it was time to take advantage of the waterbender's burst of confidence, for it might be Rui Shi's only opening to act.
"Pathetic!" laughed the Stingray "All you do is dance and hide and…!"
The man's taunt was barely halfway through when Rui Shi's hands moved to each flank of his body: he angled his body forward before unleashing an orange inferno from his arms and legs, propelling himself at full speed towards an enemy who, for all his apparent bending superiority, hadn't anticipated a move as unpredictable as that from the Imperial Guard.
It was but a variant of what he'd done earlier, a firebending-powered sprint instead of a flight, just as the ones he'd seen Azula doing in the past, and through whose example he and his fellow guards had learned to power their running and flights this way: he boosted his speed to the fullest, rushing at the enemy as a shooting star might. The unrestrained attack, so random and reckless, was slightly more reminiscent of the Princess's gladiator's behavior. Had the situation been slightly less dire, Rui Shi might have even smiled at the thought of how strongly those two had influenced him. To think the day had come when he would follow their example, rather than rebuking it… yet, hadn't he been following their example for years now? So far, he had only done it in regards of obeying his heart's mandate, just as they did. Yet now he chose to fight alone if he had to, just as Azula would in his stead, by using a technique he had borrowed from her. And he would do it in the most outlandish of ways, as Sokka surely would choose to strike down this enemy, too…
Thoughts of his friends only boosted his power… and the thought of the woman who was waiting for him, hiding in the tunnels underneath the Capital City, boosted his resolve just the same. He would return to Song today, regardless of the hellish waterbender's plans. He would hold her again, he would reassure her, explain what had happened and ease all her fears. Curses, he would gladly take her to Ba Sing Se and marry her right away, so that they both might live with no regrets. They had so much left to do, so many wonderful things to live through together…
And there was no way this accursed bastard would take away the future he wanted to share with the woman he loved.
Relying on the power of his legs alone for the final stretch of his firebending rush, Rui Shi raised his right hand, and a small but potent flame danced at the side of his fist: a fire dagger, Rui Shi's best gamble right now. And with the Stingray at less than three feet away, maybe it was better to think of it as his only gamble, instead.
So many thoughts had rushed through his mind in those last instants: it had taken him merely moments to reach the waterbender, who now struggled to reel back his water at haste, the spikes poised to reach Rui Shi's back…
But it would be too late. His water was too slow, and the ashmaker too fast…
And then the blade of fire slashed across his throat, ripping through it with flames so potent they could cut as a knife might.
The Stingray stumbled, his hold on his element collapsing as his body failed to respond. He attempted to draw a breath by impulse… but the air wouldn't reach his lungs anymore.
Even so, he tried. With his very last strength, he tried to reach for that ashmaker with his wooden hand, hoping to hurt him somehow… only to be met by a potent, new fire blast. One that Rui Shi had charged in his hands after he had stopped his firebending-powered sprint, an attack into which he had infused all his strength when he had decided that he couldn't take chances with an enemy like the Stingray: small, explosive forms of firebending weren't his area of expertise, and he was far from used to working with them in real combat… but he wouldn't hold back, even so.
And that was the only rational thought he could evoke before the charged attack tore through the waterbender's ribcage, the high speed and precision of the attack offering the firebender enough strength to break through his enemy's bones… and to detonate his small-scale bomb right in the Stingray's heart.
The blast was strong enough for the wall behind them to shake, for they had been mere inches away from it. The noise of it was startling for the soldiers at either side of the barrier… yet the conscious Imperial Guards had the chance to watch as Rui Shi was flung into the air over the backlash of his attack. He fell on the ground after hovering briefly, rolling and tumbling dangerously towards the edge of the rift that had been torn into the earth…
A hand clasped his ankle, then another reached for his arm, reeling him back into safety. As strong as him momentum had been, the Imperial Guards wouldn't allow their comrade to fall to his death after successfully destroying their foe.
Rui Shi gasped, breathing heavily: his ears were buzzing, and his right hand was trembling violently. One glance at it revealed his glove's fabric was gone, burned off by the power of his charged attack, and his fingers were covered in red… the Stingray's blood.
"Hey, now… can you hear us? Are you okay…?" asked one of the Imperial Guards who had saved him, tapping Rui Shi's cheek gently. He blinked himself back to his senses, tearing his eyes away from his hand.
"I… I'm a bit… disoriented" Rui Shi admitted, shaking his head quickly as though to clear his head "But he's… is he…?"
"You killed him. No one could've survived that kind of blow, but if you want to confirm…" said the guard, pointing at the wall.
Rui Shi flinched: the unstable wall wasn't crumbling yet, but it was stained black by the aftermath of the deadly explosion he had dealt the Stingray… whose remains laid, charred and still burning, right against that wall.
"You did it… you did" said the guard, patting his shoulder before handing him his helmet "It's over now. We… we've won"
Rui Shi breathed out slowly, but nodded in agreement and approval. It hadn't been easy, and goodness, he sure had hoped and wished it could have been a lot less dangerous and chaotic… but they had won indeed. The Stingray lay dead, as did several of his allies, and the survivors of their group had been taken captive. They had taken casualties and injuries as well… but the factory still stood. If nothing else, the Princess would likely rejoice upon hearing they had stopped the enemy from dealing irreparable damage to her father's military pet project.
Rui Shi and the Imperial Guards who had helped him had a perfect view of a massive aircraft descending slowly towards the factory's hangar: the scouts were here at last, to rescue the injured… to rescue everyone, Rui Shi expected. He gritted his teeth and rose to his feet, rushing to help the rest of the Imperial Guards anew, especially the badly injured captain: they needed to board that airship too and, hopefully, see to it that the squad's leader would be healed at haste.
Just as the Imperial Guards were pondering how to round the massive earthbent wall, it began to shrink slowly but smoothly: by the time it was back underground, they spotted the female earthbender from earlier, as well as three others who had arrived with the scouting group, lowering their arms gradually. The young woman appeared exhausted, but General Iroh stood beside her, smiling approvingly at her before turning to the firebenders.
"You did it, then?" he asked, though his eyes soon found the Stingray's charred corpse, confirming the truth without needing anyone else to explain it "Oh…"
"It wasn't like… like he gave me much of a choice" Rui Shi said, breathing slowly as the Imperial Guards continued forward, to board the airship as fast as they could with their injured leader "I can't see any reason to regret his fate"
Iroh pursed his lips but nodded. He could tell the former captain wasn't as trigger-happy as many other soldiers in the Fire Nation's army. As much as Iroh wasn't one to support the Fire Nation over other nations, this hadn't been a matter of nations at all, as far as he could tell…
"General Iroh! Will you stay to keep watch in the factory, or…?" asked the relieved, yet still nervous, captain of the Domestic Forces' group, stepping towards the Dragon of the West. Iroh glanced at Toph, who stood exhausted against him, and smiled.
"I think we're in no shape to stay here. Keep a group posted at the factory, just in case anything else happens, but… I think it's over" Iroh said, with a relieved sigh.
Was it, though? Rui Shi frowned as he followed the old general into the airship: their battle certainly appeared to be over… but they weren't the only ones who had been fighting deadly enemies today. Had Azula's group dealt with the Kinslayer and his Bloodlust Spear, if it truly was that? The likelihood was that she had, Rui Shi knew. Perhaps she would be impatient by now, scowling at them as they arrived in the Palace on their airship, ready to scold them for being so late. Yet there was a slim chance that things hadn't gone so smoothly…
A slim chance that appeared much larger, once Rui Shi realized that Sokka was nowhere in sight.
Where he had been on the verge of relaxing moments ago, Rui Shi's anxiety spiked upon realizing the non-bender wasn't floating on a hot-air balloon near the airship, nor was he riding the airship itself…
"Ah! You're one of the Imperial Guards, you should head for the physicians…!" Captain Zhen exclaimed upon glimpsing Rui Shi, Toph and Iroh on the airship's main deck "And you two as well, General Iroh and General Iroh's gladiator…! Goodness, you all must have been through so much…"
"Way too much. Gotta go take a nap now" Toph announced, closing her eyes after finding a crate upon which she could sit down and relax.
"Oh, well, you can do that too, but you should have the physicians see you once you can" Zhen said, but Toph waved a hand in his direction.
"There's a bunch of people in worse shape than us. I'm just tired" she said.
Iroh smiled sadly at his gladiator, but Rui Shi stepped forward, gazing at Zhen, his helmet still in his trembling hands. The airship's captain was taken aback by the intensity in those amber eyes:
"Sokka reached out to you, didn't he?" he asked. Zhen's eyes widened.
"He… yes. He told us to come here to offer relief, and we did, but…"
"But he didn't come back with you" Rui Shi finished. Zhen gritted his teeth, and that gesture was enough to stir more turmoil in Rui Shi's tightened heart.
"Is something wrong?" Iroh asked, and Captain Zhen clenched his fists.
Rui Shi took a deep breath, forgetting all about the blood coating his hand, the exhaustion that clung to his bones, the need to close his eyes and open them again to find everything had been but an ill-conceived nightmare…
If Sokka hadn't chosen to return, it meant he had rushed someplace else. And it wasn't difficult to guess what that place might be… let alone why he would feel the need to take off in a rush at all.
Dreading he wouldn't want to hear its answer, Rui Shi leveled Zhen with a fearful stare before asking his next question:
"What happened to Princess Azula?"
The explosion left an unpleasant, acrid stench clinging to the air, and the burning pile where the hot-air balloon had crashed only seemed to burn hotter by the second. If Rhone had been caught in the explosion, he would certainly be dead by now… yet Azula could tell, through her bond with Xin Long, that the Spear had wrestled its way out of her dragon's hold and returned to Rhone. Had it protected him again? Had it jerked him out of a fatal path…?
Althoguh she had no time to truly process everything that had happened, Azula knew she had heard Sokka's voice, shouting Rhone's name with wrath she had never heard from him before. Sokka… he had come for her, hadn't he? Oh, he would scold her for sure, he'd told her not to send him away and she hadn't listened… but he'd come for her anyways. Unruly, rebellious, brave gladiator…
Footsteps approached her, sinking in the sand with unrecognizable despair. That same voice from earlier was now a string of heavy breaths and panting, with the occasional gasps of disbelief… she surely looked like a wreck, didn't she? What pathetic way to present herself before the man she loved…
"Azula…!" he called, and she listened, trying her best to open her eyes at the sound of his voice "Azula!"
Hands found her body, raising her torso from the ground. The situation hadn't changed that much just yet… but she no longer felt as desperate, as fearful, as before: Sokka had come for her.
She opened her eyes at last, finding his own were of the beautiful blue color she had ever grown to love… even when riddled with tears of disbelieving desperation and powerful panic. He held her carefully, assessing her state, and she could feel the arms that held her were shivering more violently by the minute.
"Sokka…" she whispered, and her broken voice did nothing to reassure him "I… told you to… leave this to me, didn't I…?"
She had wanted to speak playfully, to ease his concerns… yet her remorse for not having listened to him seeped into her words. Sokka gritted his teeth, taking her face in one of his hands.
"What did he do to you? You're hurt, love, you're…" he said, and it seemed his heart would stop once he focused on the sizable crack in her golden armor… in the blood that streaked it, that dripped from her fingers "Y-you need to get out of this armor, right now. I'll help you…"
"Sokka…" she said, tightening her eyes closed as he began working on the buckles he had learned by heart over the past years.
She cringed: as delicate as Sokka was, the metal would brush against her wound, and a pulsating pain was finally translated by her body. She couldn't contain a few whimpers as he pushed the golden armor off her shoulders, past her head, before setting it aside carelessly, letting it sink in the sand.
"Better?" Sokka asked Azula. Despite she wasn't sure there was much of an improvement, she nodded weakly.
"Thank you…" she said "B-but… he's not… he's not dead yet, Sokka…"
"I… I crashed the hot-air balloon on him" Sokka said, but Azula shook her head weakly before the pain caused her to cringe again.
"He… has that Spear… it bails him out of danger… all the time" she explained, clutching at Sokka's armor with her right hand "I think it… it did it again…"
"The Spear…" Sokka repeated, gritting his teeth "Did it do this to you? Or was it…?"
"I'd be dead already… if it'd been the Spear" Azula admitted. The words didn't reassure Sokka… but reassurances would come later, not now, when they still had two foes to defeat, in all likelihood "Rhone jumped at me… from behind, or so… I don't really know…"
"That fucking son of a bitch…" Sokka snarled, gritting his teeth as he held her closer "You… you need help. You and Xin Long should leave, and I'll deal with…"
"No… no. You can't fight… you can't fight them alone…" Azula refused, but Sokka snarled.
"And you can't fight at all, Azula!" he said "You need help, right away…!"
"I can't let them… kill you" Azula said, and Sokka huffed.
"Just as I can't let them kill you" he said. She grinned.
"Then… why don't we protect each other?" she asked "Isn't that what… what we always do?"
"Azula, you're… you're in no shape for it" Sokka said, the tears rolling down his cheeks "You need to be safe, not to fight any further…!"
"I can do it now…" Azula said, shaking her head once more "I can fight again. Because… I saw your face again, I… I can do this"
"You… what?" Sokka blinked in confusion at the Princess's words. Yet she smiled, and now her right hand rose to his cheek.
"My gold fire…" she whispered, caressing his face "My inner flame… my gladiator"
Her words seemed disjointed, disconnected with the reality of the danger they faced… but they rang true in Sokka's heart so powerfully he nearly succumbed to tears outright. He found a different, better outlet for his rampant emotions by hoisting his lover's body carefully towards him, pressing his lips to hers softly… and Azula reciprocated, her right hand clinging to his armor, keeping him close by, finding further strength in the extraordinary bond that linked them together.
Sokka breathed against her, frowning heavily as his arms, trembling as they were, tightened around her frame. He rose to his feet, bringing her with him until they stood side by side… and what an unseemly, confusing sight they had to be: as anxious as he was, Sokka still looked virtually untouched, while Azula had never been in worse shape, her armor discarded, her left arm virtually unusable, wounded and bloodied, her hair in chaotic disarray. Yet she could stand: she was strong enough, even now. The world was a blur… but it was still there. He was still there. And that counted for everything.
"I won't let him get to you. Never again" Sokka said. His words were a promise… a deadly one, Azula knew. And how she had longed to spare him from the pain of killing anyone else anew, let alone someone who had meant much to him, once… but she was in no position to stop him anymore. So she nodded weakly, letting him know she trusted him, completely.
"Xin… has handled the Spear so far" Azula said "I'll help him. And once we're done… we'll help you, too"
"Maybe it'll be me helping you guys instead" Sokka suggested. Azula smiled, and she might have shrugged if the pain hadn't stopped her from doing so.
"Can't say it's not possible" she whispered "Thank you… for coming for me"
"Here I thought you'd be mad I'd disobeyed your orders" Sokka said, and he finally grinned too, even if just a little. Azula let out a single laugh, pressing her head to his shoulder.
"You've never been one to obey… you do as you wish. I never said it enough, but… I love that side of you" she whispered, feeling his lips kissing the top of her head "I love all of you, Sokka…"
"And I love all of you, Azula" Sokka replied, embracing her delicately one more time, his tears dripping down his cheeks once more.
He would win against Rhone, immediately. And then they'd destroy that Spear, however they could… then he'd take her home and see to it that she'd recover from that wound as fast as possible. This wasn't the end for them. He refused to see their journey end here: their bright future would not be stolen by Rhone, or by that mad weapon of his.
It came as no surprise that a humanoid shape would be walking out of the sea by then, aided by a guandao that served as a staff for him to lean on. The Spear had successfully protected Rhone from the worst of the danger by rushing away from the explosion and taking him into the water… but there were burn marks on his armor and what little of his skin was exposed. Even full portions of his hair had burned off his charred scalp. Yet those murderous, clear eyes remained as bright as ever, glaring at them ferociously.
Sokka snarled in Rhone's direction… in the Spear's direction, too. He stepped forward, protectively placing his body before Azula's, drawing his sword and boomerang anew. He couldn't begin to imagine how the battle between Rhone and Azula's group had developed… but what little he knew had sealed his resolve to send Rhone straight to hell today.
"You're… late" Rhone spat out at Sokka, raising the Spear in his direction "Not that it matters… you'll be dead in no time"
"You already are" Sokka retorted, his brow furrowed heavily, shadowing his eyes "I could waste our time asking why you're doing this… but I'd rather slice your head off than hear your fucking voice again!"
Azula gasped behind him, but Sokka had already dashed off, his weapons at the ready. Rhone snarled before launching his Spear at the gladiator…
Only for the willful weapon to be tackled, yet again, by the dragon who had finally recovered enough to join the fight again. Sokka only slowed for a moment, casting a quick glance at Xin Long before lunging forth again. Rhone drew his dadao, but the confidence with which he had spoken earlier was nowhere to be found this time: he knew, firsthand, what killer intent looked and felt like… for he had experienced it in his own flesh and blood, a thousand times over.
Now, he found that killer intent in the wrathful snarl of his childhood friend.
Sokka slammed Space Sword into the dadao, powerfully enough to leave a large crack in the weapon. Rhone growled, attempting to push Sokka away, but the gladiator kicked at his former friend violently, his heavy boot finding Rhone's chest with enough power to send him flying back into the sea. Ankle deep in the water, Sokka's fury would not be sated anytime soon: he cast one more glance at Azula, ensuring she was fine still… finding she was watching him, anxiously. With a quick grin, that he hoped she would find encouraging, he turned again to chase down Rhone.
Azula breathed heavily, hardly knowing where the strength to stand on her own two feet had come from. Yet her dragon and her gladiator continued to fight fiercely… and she knew, without a shred of a doubt, that it was up to her to put an end to this pointless, painful battle.
Though, as much as standing was possible, it didn't seem quick movements would work quite so well. She gritted her teeth after nearly losing her balance upon taking a step forward: this wouldn't do. She wanted to fight back, to defend herself… but unlike Sokka, who had grown used to fighting after taking serious wounds, she wasn't quite so ready to do the same thing. She seldom saw this kind of violent action… she seldom failed to protect herself against the harm anyone else tried to bring upon her.
Yet there was no point in dawdling: if she took down that Spear now, she would liberate Sokka from the burden of an unbearably long fight against Rhone: by merely summoning his weapon, Rhone would have a chance to slip out of Sokka's reach at any given moment if he thought he was in danger.
Still, she had no intentions of sacrificing herself needlessly. Closing her eyes briefly, Azula allowed her chest to be infused by the powerful emotions Sokka evoked in her… emotions that had flourished all the more right now, for even if the worst were to happen, she wasn't alone. At the very end of the world, facing a deadly, supernatural threat, he had rushed to her side, helping her fight as best as he could. She could still remember the loneliness she had felt so long ago, the default in her life, before Sokka was in it… that same loneliness that had plagued her after she had kissed him and failed to convey her true feelings him, that had permeated her entire being once she sent Lo and Li away and they hadn't even fought to stay beside her.
She hadn't sent Sokka away on a whim this time: she had done it for his sake, and because she had been certain that, if this Spear could be defeated, it would be by her hand. She had hoped he would successfully lead the other group… what on earth had happened to them? Seeing as Sokka wasn't injured and had arrived on a random hot-air balloon, Azula guessed things hadn't gone so badly, though she couldn't waste brainpower trying to figure out what he'd been through. For now, she had to focus on the fact that he'd come to her… when she had sent him away, he had clawed his way back, fighting through enemies as deadly as the Stingray to do so, and now even striking ferociously at Rhone in the water, slamming his sword against his, driving Rhone further into the sea as though hoping the man's injuries and new weaknesses wouldn't allow him to defend himself anymore once he was waist deep in the water…
She had wanted to protect him, but he had chosen to fight for her anyhow. As ever, they had done everything for each other's sake… as ever, the bond between them was so strong that, weakened as she was, Azula had no doubts their chi was as attuned now as it ever had been. She smiled to herself as she raised her right hand, the one that bore the scar of their secret wedding ceremony: a small golden flame danced right above the mark of their love. Both elements combined seemed to promise her, reassuringly, that she would still be able to draw this power from the depths of her soul, no matter how wounded she was.
Azula breathed out slowly before clenching the flame into a fist, stifling it quickly. Her gold, calculating, determined eyes rose to take in the fights again: Xin Long was still struggling to keep the Spear in check, though it was hard to tell whether the weapon wanted to return to Rhone's hands or shoot off at Azula instead… and as dangerous as it might be, the Princess would rather have the second thing happening right now.
Her right hand reached up to her wounded left shoulder. She winced as she touched her bleeding wound, holding her hand against the blood-stained ripped tunic and shirt for as long as needed… and then her voice, frail and unstable as it was, broke through the bay:
"Xin!"
The dragon was startled by his rider's voice, though instead of turning towards her, he merely reached out with his mind. Azula wasted no time sharing her plan… a plan that left her partner apprehensive and wary: he shot a glance at her from the corner of his eyes as he tried to hold the Spear down against the sand, and upon finding such fierce determination in his rider's semblance, Xin Long could only relent: maybe it would be better if, as wounded as Azula was, they fought this damned menace together.
Azula's voice had startled Sokka too, who had his back turned to the fight against the Spear. He was tempted to glance back, and with that moment's hesitation, Rhone slashed as though to hack Sokka's head off. The gladiator jumped back expertly, snarling as he acknowledged, despite himself, that there was no chance to be distracted with an enemy like Rhone…
Though when Rhone started to pack a new attack, he suddenly froze in place, glancing in confused disbelief at what was happening in the bay. Despite knowing it could be some childish trap to take him off guard, Sokka still turned his head quickly towards Azula, fear flaring in his chest…
Fear that turned into outright panic, once he saw the woman he loved holding out a bloodstained hand to summon the Spear to herself.
"Azula…?! Azula, NO!" he shouted, forgetting about Rhone immediately as he started on his way back to the Princess…
But even if he drew his boomerang at tossed it at the Spear, even if he ran with all his strength, he wouldn't be able to reach the Princess on time: Xin Long released the Spear, just as Azula had asked him to… and the bloodlust of the corrupt weapon had naturally drawn it towards the Princess, seeking the lifeforce that was being offered so freely.
Azula didn't wait too long before lowering her hand: that damned Spear was fast enough to give chase to Xin Long, so she had to be ready to fight back immediately, as it traversed the space between her and her dragon.
With a fierce snarl, and a war cry she had unknowingly learned from the man who now raced towards her, oblivious to being chased by his enemy across the water, Azula gathered all her strength, all the power she could evoke…
A cloud of gold fire burst from her fingers, so powerful it floored Sokka and Rhone, freezing them on their tracks: she could still produce fire of that caliber, when wounded to such an extent?
The Spear, however, rushed towards the source of the gold fire at haste: that was where the blood was. That was what it had to chase…
But when the gold fire enveloped it, the Spear slowed in its movements. The backlash of the fire was surprisingly powerful, despite it wasn't even condensed: Azula's scream, the pain on her shoulder, the frantic beating of her desperate heart… all of it combined to create the strongest possible flame she could offer this battle, a golden flame that kept the Bloodlust Spear at bay, countering the corruption with the purest fire to be summoned by a firebender…
"N-no… NO!" Rhone shouted, attempting to run past Sokka, his hand reaching for his boomerang.
A violent impact against his flank sent Rhone rolling back into the water: Sokka had rammed his armored shoulder into the enemy, and now he reached for the water, his hand finding Rhone's throat, squeezing it as hard as he could. Maybe he couldn't help Azula when it came to holding back the Spear, but if he could keep Rhone underwater, he wouldn't be able to stop Azula from casting her powerful flames against the wretched murderous weapon…
Xin Long rose to his feet again, gathering his power as he trotted weakly towards Azula: with his head reared, Xin Long packed a powerful stream of blue flames that he poured into the Spear… and it blended with Azula's own golden fire, crafting that mix of colors they had discovered together. The mixed fire turned into a powerful cage, one that the Spear wouldn't possibly be able to escape from without his partner's help… and as long as Sokka held him down, he wouldn't possibly receive that help at all.
The Spear twitched uneasily inside the fire that bathed it: just as it had been with Seethus, the power of the combined flames seemed to thwart it even further. Yet, as effective as it had been so far, Azula could tell it wouldn't be enough: they couldn't hold the multicolor flame cage forever, and once they couldn't hold it anymore, the Spear would break out, regain its corrupt power before long and begin a new assault… and as effective as her feelings had been in evoking gold flames right now, Azula knew she wouldn't be able to sustain this for much longer…
There was but one choice, one possible way to finish off the Spear before it could hurt another soul ever again…
"Sokka!" her long war cry morphed into his name, startling him out of focus as he struggled with holding down Rhone. His head whipped up towards her, and he tried to ignore the way his former friend's nails clawed at the skin of his arms, as his legs attempted to kick him off…
What did she want? What did she need? His heart clenched as he realized that, if he ran to help her now, he'd have to release Rhone. Wouldn't their efforts go to waste if Rhone could fight anew? Yet a certainty rang powerfully in Azula's voice, and even in the distance, her eyes found his.
"Space… Space Sword! Now!" she said, begging him to help her: it was now or never.
He could have, presumably, raced towards the Spear himself… but would there be enough time for that? He wasn't fast enough to cover that distance in seconds. Azula needed the weapon immediately… so she wanted something rather obvious, even if it wasn't Sokka's first instinctive understanding of her words.
Still, they had done this before: they could do it again now. The gladiator clenched his teeth before pushing Rhone further into the water before releasing him: he ran closer to the shore, but not in hopes of reaching Azula. Instead, he drew his sword and tossed it, powerfully, in an arch that he hoped would find it falling right into Azula's functional hand.
It was fortunate he had become so proficient with his accuracy, Azula thought, with a weak smile as she watched the black blade spinning gradually as it coursed the distance between them. Otherwise, this might not work at all…
She only had one brief moment: a window in which to act before the Spear could replenish its corrupt powers in full, powers that had been chased away temporarily by the purifying fire. A window that would begin as soon as she stopped unleashing her fire to catch the sword.
Sokka watched with wide eyes, desperate, confused but hopeful, so anxious he paid no mind to the sound of the water splashing and the violent coughing of the man he had nearly drowned just now. Whatever Azula meant to do, it needed to work. It simply had to…
The gold flames stopped pouring from the Princess's right hand, but the effect of the multicolor flames would last for a little longer thanks to Xin Long's own flames: still, the cage was broken. The Spear, twirling clumsily, now had the freedom to attack the very target of its initial assault…
A target whose hand had just wrapped around the hilt of a sword slightly too large for her to handle comfortably.
The blue flames weren't enough to muffle the Spear's slowly reawakening corruption: powered by its longing for blood, the Spear shot off towards the Princess anew…
And Azula leapt to the side just in time for the Bloodlust Spear to pass her by.
She swung the sword horizontally, slashing perfectly through the weapon's blade and shaft.
On that very instant, a black, putrid substance exploded from the torn weapon, pouring out into the air, into the sea, into the sand… it was as violent, as sudden as the crashing hot-air balloon had been, and every onlooker gazed at it in utter disbelief as the corruption leaked out in a frenzy, as an explosion of ink and smoke…
"No… NO!" Rhone shouted, rushing towards the destroyed weapon, his grand ally in the utter annihilation of the Fire Nation…
Sokka's hand reached out to clasp Rhone's arm, roaring too as he exerted all his strength in grabbing the man by the wrist and swinging him around completely: the strength Rhone was trying to use to reach Azula had been deflected, and he wasn't strong enough to avoid being launched powerfully into the sea anew… only, this time the Spear wouldn't come to help him. It was gone. His best hope, his strongest hand, was gone…
Sokka ran with haste towards the shore, dread building inside him: the strange, inky smoke that had poured out of the shattered Spear had now dissipated almost completely… and now he could see Azula again.
She laid on the sand, unmoving.
"AZULA!"
He screamed, not knowing if she would hear him. Not knowing if she even could hear him. But he would reach her, he had to reach her… his nightmare wouldn't come true. He had come too damn far, he had fought by her side, he couldn't let her die…!
But by the time he reached the Princess he found her pale, and disturbingly still. He gasped, his trembling hands touching her cheeks, beckoning her to respond, to give him any signs that she was still here, with him…
But she wasn't.
For she was in another age. In a world much like theirs… but much different, just as well.
A man kneeling, with blades protruding all over his body. He was dying, bleeding to death, and he was furious. Betrayed by his closest allies, on the eve of a battle he had meant to win for them… He had drawn out one of the blades that protruded from his body: a guandao. In one last breath, he had screamed, clasping the weapon powerfully, infusing it with his soul's resentment… with his darkness.
The blood that oozed out of him had blackened, flowing into the weapon, rotting it to its core with the fury of a man who would see himself avenged, no matter the cost.
And avenged he had been, once the Bloodlust Spear launched off into savage carnage, killing every warrior and bender in that campsite until there was no one left. Sated, it had waited in place for a new wielder, one with a heart as rotten, with a soul as dark, as the one that had become the corruption inside the indestructible weapon, corruption that would destroy everything in its path, sapping all living beings from their vital energy.
Instead, a child, many years later, had found it: the warmth of his hand had awakened the dormant Spear and it had torn through him before doing away with his family. Then it rushed onwards to the next enemy, until it had found enough blood to indulge in, after slaying an entire town that decayed as the Spear's greed had finally been sated.
Then, a warmonger happened upon the Spear by chance: his heart was dark, though not as dark as the first man's. The Spear shot off out of his hand, helping him devastate the enemies of his people. The armies of opposing factions, of other benders, had been torn to shreds: they had no choice but to flee, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the weapon, even sailing across the sea…
And as satisfied as it had been for a time, it wasn't long before it hungered, again. Its own wielder fell, next.
An ambitious, cruel general next: he had torn through other armies, all for the sake of more power. But power wasn't as dark as revenge: even he fell to the Spear, right by the tall, centennial walls of the massive city he had hoped to take for himself, and all his troops had followed.
Then, a group of bald men had arrived: they had been summoned to seal the Spear. Their ability to manipulate air allowed them to transport the Spear without waking it with their warmth, carrying it safely to the Temple, where they stashed it in a room built into the depths of a tall mountain, amidst other treasures of their culture.
Untouched, undiscovered, centuries passed by, and it seemed no one would ever find it anew. There was no warmth to awaken it… no soul corrupt enough to wield it.
Until the day had come when more bald men had rushed into the mountain's depths. They were afraid, speaking of protecting their culture, of staying safe until the danger had passed: they were the last bastion. The one temple no strangers had any access to. The only ones who would survive, if the worst came to pass.
And then another child, as innocent as the one to find it so many years after the first bloody massacre, had laid his hands upon the weapon in an act of sheer curiosity, of mischief with no ill intent. A soul so pure… so easily consumed by the darkness of a Spear that demanded for new blood after centuries of suppression.
It sparked to life immediately. The older monks had known what the Spear was, but the others had no warning before they were slashed, hacked to pieces, torn to shreds, drained of their chi and blood. Then, the Spear gave chase to those who had boldly attempted to escape: some had gone to the west. A handful, to the south. Most of them, to the east. The blood of the largest group summoned the Spear: it gave chase, tearing them down just before they could leave the mountain range… and it was only sated after the final one had succumbed. By then, it had fallen into the ground, quenched in its desire for blood, nailed perfectly on the ground, amidst bones and torn clothes that decayed further with time, as did all the life in that deep valley between tall peaks.
It seemed it would not be found anew. The quest for blood appeared to be over, even if the corruption had lingered…
Until a soul beckoned it. A dark soul capable of the harshest of cruelty, seeking a rotten purpose, a purpose that resonated so powerfully against the Spear that it had successfully summoned that man to itself through the roots and branches that could connect souls and spirits across the land: their purposes lined up. Their goals were one and the same. Together, they would bring as much death to the world as it warranted, fulfilling their need for revenge as one…
But now the rot dissipated. The powerful chains of revenge had been torn, no matter if the soul bound to the Spear had yet to be sated… it was released by the power of that fire, by the blade that had slashed across it and rendered it useless. The Bloodlust Spear's eternal quest for revenge would go unfulfilled and broken.
The images dissipated into darkness… and then light tore through again. Slow breaths became more labored, and an unbearable weakness now seemed to claw at her very soul.
Even so, Azula was alive.
She opened her eyes with difficulty, finding the man she loved was holding her against his chest anew, his overpowering despair turning gradually into hope as she came back to consciousness.
"… -ula… Azula, you… you can hear me, can't you? Just… just nod, if you can. Please, love…"
She struggled to find her voice. Her entire body felt heavy, unbearably so. She cringed, opening her dry mouth with unexpected difficulty…
"Sokka…" she gasped: she still hadn't found her voice, then. She cringed, closing her eyes as the sudden burning of empty pain clung to her shoulder… empty pain? What did that mean?
"Azula, you're… you're not okay. Your shoulder…" Sokka said, and his relief had turned to concern all over again. Azula cringed: her shoulder. Yes, something was wrong with it… but now it felt far worse than before. Why would it be any worse than it was, at this point?
"T-the Spear…" she managed to say breathily.
"It's gone" Sokka said, smiling sadly at her "You did away with it… you amazing, beautiful warrior. You've… you've done so well, Azula. Too well, if anything…"
Had it been so good? Truly? Somehow, even if she had defeated that corrupted spear, it didn't seem she had done as well as she should have, when she felt so broken too… but how to say such words to a man who gazed at her as though she were every valuable treasure in the world, contained in a single being?
"Sokka…" she called him again, and he nodded.
"You'll be okay. We'll get out of here, and then you'll be…"
"It's over…?" she asked. He nodded again.
"The Spear is gone. You did it, Azula, you… you managed to do it while wounded like this. You're just that extraordinary, aren't you? But… please don't be extraordinary anymore, if just for a bit. You need a physician, as soon as possible…"
"Do I…?" Azula said, smiling weakly "You'll… you'll look after me… again?"
"Always. Didn't I promise I would?" Sokka said. Azula sighed in relief.
"I'm… not alone" she said, and Sokka shook his head.
"You never will be again. Not while I draw breath" he said. She grinned again, in that fragile, weak way that tore his heart to shreds…
"You won't be either… my love" she whispered.
And it seemed about the right moment to let herself fall into a slumber… even if one she might never wake from again. But just as her eyes were threatening to close, there was a shadow… a dark shadow that gained form gradually: the very man, with the very sword that had cut through her shoulder earlier.
When Azula's relaxed face suddenly tensed up again, panic flaring in her beautiful gold eyes, Sokka frowned, turning instinctively… to find Rhone, dripping wet, wounded, the whites of his eyes streaked red, with dark stains around his neck, raising his sword in his direction.
The fury in those bloodshot eyes was unlike what he'd borne in them so far: had he finally understood the depth of their bond? Was that why he seemed so determined to kill them both in one attack?
Sokka's sword was back in its scabbard: he wouldn't reach it on time. That sword would swing down on them before he could do anything but raise his hand and…
Azula's weak, right hand found Sokka's shoulder.
In a sudden burst of power, the last she could seem to conjure, Azula cried out, infusing her power into Sokka's chi paths: it poured out as an orange flame that caught Rhone's chest, burning his face violently enough that he had to draw back, failing to give his eyes any credit before shutting them tight against the fire that threatened to burn them off…
It was a chance, an opening Azula had carved for Sokka… all of it, with the last ounces of strength she had in her. She gasped, the world spinning violently as Sokka called her name urgently again… but this time she lacked the strength to return to consciousness. She slumped in his arms, unmoving, barely breathing.
"Azula…! Azula, no, you can't…!" Sokka gasped, lowering his hand as he held her, trembling "Azula!"
Rhone shouted, stumbling back as he slapped the flames away. His voice was unwelcome… unwanted. Sokka snarled, shooting a quick glance at the man he had once called friend, finding he wasn't in combat condition just yet. Then his eyes drifted towards Xin Long: the dragon had been lightly affected by the explosion of rot from before, too. Still, he had enough strength to crawl to Azula's side, and that was exactly what he was doing right now.
"Keep her safe" Sokka said, his voice nearly breaking as he placed Azula on the sand. Xin Long groaned, breathing lightly against his rider's face…
And Sokka rose to his feet, drawing his sword anew. His face, contorted by another snarl, was the menacing sight that greeted Rhone once he opened his eyes again, clasping his sword with what strength he had left.
"You… you bastard…" Rhone said "You're… y-you're a fucking firebender now?! Is that how it is?! Is that what she… w-what she turned you into?!"
"Damn right it is!" Sokka shouted, finding it in him to speak with pride despite his heart was aching in a thousand ways.
"Fuck you… fuck you!" Rhone roared, raising his sword in Sokka's direction.
Sokka lashed forth, but Rhone was still fast enough to parry his blow, keeping his sword's sharpness at bay by dragging both weapons down.
"You fucking love a firebender, you've let them break you, just like they broke them! Just like they break everyone, and you don't regret it…?!" Rhone bellowed.
"I'd rather be broken than be anything like you!" Sokka snarled, again tackling Rhone, though this time his enemy didn't lose his balance "You piece of shit… I told you, didn't I?! I'd run you through before you could even touch her…!"
"Ha! Sure as fuck went as you wanted it, then! She's going to die, she deserves to die, and you couldn't do a damn thing to stop it!" Rhone announced, and his savage grin at the thought of Azula's inevitable fate twisted Sokka's innards until he lost control of himself right then and there "You failed, Sokka! The woman you loved… she's going to die, and so will you!"
Rhone rushed in, dragging his dadao over the ground before swinging it upwards at Sokka… expecting only another parry, rather than the lightning-fast slash that cut the dadao sword in half.
Rhone only had one moment to reason with the destruction of his second weapon. One brief moment of thinking perhaps his situation wasn't completely lost…
And then that sharp, black sword slid through his ribcage, cutting through skin, bones, organs and spine.
Rhone gagged even before the first spurt of blood rose in his throat. His head lolled back, and his arms hung limply, unresponsive, as his eyes opened wide… gazing at the sky. The open, blue sky above that cared nothing for their mundane affairs.
Sokka had been too late to kill him before he could hurt Azula at all. He would never stop regretting that.
But he had run him through all the same, driving Space Sword through Rhone's gut, all the way to the hilt.
Rhone stood in place for a moment, held upright by the sword, more than anything else. Sokka's body was close to his, so close that, if he could only clasp one of the knives in his belt, he would finally kill him too. He would drag him to hell with him, or maybe to a far more desired oblivion… but his arms wouldn't answer anymore. He was too broken… too tired. Too weak.
Sokka snarled, holding Rhone in place for only one more moment before drawing his sword back abruptly. Rhone crumbled to the ground as a poorly-built tower might, blood oozing out of his sizable wound as a torrent, coating the sand in red…
And Sokka stood there, towering over Rhone, his blue eyes finally losing some of the murderous intent from before… for he'd done it. He'd killed Rhone, as he had intended to. And what now? Would he mock him, threaten him, give him a faster death than bleeding to death? Would his old friend truly give him that sort of courtesy…?
The answer was, of course, a resounding, rotund 'no'. For Sokka turned quickly… turning his back on Rhone for the second time, running right back to the Princess once again. Right back to the woman who had spoken lovingly to him as she lay in his arms.
He had assumed it impossible. A Fire Nation Princess would never see a man like Sokka and think him worthy of her… and yet as Sokka knelt beside her, it was clear Rhone had been wrong. He hadn't understood all along… he didn't understand, even now. When had it begun? Had they always been hiding a deeper affection for each other than he had wanted to believe?
She had jumped in his defense, hadn't she? Just before Rhone could kill him on their first fight, she had glared him down so fiercely it seemed she truly would have killed him right then and there. Had that always been more than just a slaver, protecting her property? In retrospect… it surely was. It had to be.
So now Sokka chose her. He chose her, just as he had chosen her every time since they'd met again. He turned his back on Rhone, and that was all he'd see for the last, prolonged moment of his existence…
A moment he had thought would arrive so much sooner. A moment he had believed already had arrived when the beast had attacked him in that cave.
He had woken in that world, bleak and colorful alike, with monsters and creatures on every corner. They had chased him, others had ignored him, he had received no help whatsoever. He had fallen, so many times, down hills, through massive gaps in the ground, through water that had threatened to drown him. Everything was out for the kill: he was but prey, a lost soul seeking relief… seeking salvation, and receiving nothing but torment and punishment for crimes he hadn't committed. And as yet another creature tore his soul to shreds, he barely had the time to ponder if this was what death would be, forevermore. Was this truly a fate he deserved…?
He had found himself in that cave anew when the light had fallen upon his features, once the warriors had dragged him out… but the damage was done. His mind, once whole, healthy and pure, had been utterly dismantled by that experience. Pain seemed to tear his soul apart… pain caused all those deadly creatures that had given him chase, whether those who had caught up with him or not.
He had locked himself away, knowing no one would understand. Knowing Sokka, as worried and guilty as he felt, wouldn't be able to handle the truth. He was better off not knowing what Rhone had understood. Then, perhaps, he'd live his life more freely than Rhone ever would…
But his parents, angry, reckless, desperate to fix him, had dragged him onto a boat and sailed north. Sokka had said goodbye… and Rhone hadn't responded as his friend cried bitterly, believing his fate was his fault. Was it? Even Rhone didn't know. Would things have been any different, had Sokka been the one chased by that creature? Would he have fought back…? Or was his soul worthy of a salvation that Rhone's wasn't…?
Nothing changed in the north. His parents, desperate, had claimed they would seek counsel in the Earth Kingdom when the waterbending healers failed to find a solution… and he had been left in the care of the tribe's chief, for a time.
Of all people, it seemed unlikely that the one person to break through his shell would be that young princess, with hair as white as snow, kind eyes as pure as the bluest of noon skies. She had guided him to that strange garden, where plants grew safely, unperturbed by the ice… and she had explained she had been touched by spirits, too. She had been brought back to life by one, to serve a purpose, she believed.
She understood what no one else could, for she had lived through it, too.
But if she had been brought back for a purpose, wasn't the same true for him? Had that savage creature meant to kill him, to eat him, but sent him back upon finding he had a purpose left to fulfill? What would that be? What could it be? And once he fulfilled it, would he only return to a world so hostile, so deadly, so cruel his young soul had constantly been woken in fretful fits at night, screaming for help he knew he would never find whenever those images returned to him?
He had believed that world cruel, considered it hell itself… until he had realized his own material world was no better. Until he had overheard his parents one night, discussing what they'd done. After seeing the Oasis, speaking with the Princess, deciding he still lived for a purpose, he had finally improved, he would finally speak, even if he wasn't the same as before… and now they felt guilty. Guilty… for their trip to the Earth Kingdom had been a lie. An excuse. They had traveled there only to send word to the Fire Nation about the last waterbender in the south. All of it for revenge, a rotten vendetta they should have never held against Hakoda's family. And now, because of his parents, Katara would die…
So, he killed them, too.
They deserved the punishment of that hellish world far more than Katara ever would.
He had been on the run ever since. His hatred for the Fire Nation had been strong in his childhood… but that they would kill Katara, that they would have sent that gentle girl to that spiritual hell, just for their thirst for conquest, had driven him to decide that Yue had been right: he had a purpose.
And it was to send as many Fire Nation people as could be to that damnable hell. That was why he had seen it and experienced it directly.
He had been punished in his first life with a hell he didn't deserve. And if that was all that awaited him in death, the very least he could do was become worthy of that punishment.
With each death he dealt, he was closer to deserving it. He was stronger, strong enough to fight back against the creatures that had longed to tear him to shreds. So that, when the day arrived, he would head into that hell again with his head held high, ready to make them pay for what they'd done to him. On that day, when Sokka had talked about what had happened to Rhone in that cave… when he had asked him if he believed there would be an afterlife, Rhone had earnestly answered he wouldn't change his behavior in the next world. Of course he wouldn't. He had lived all these years knowing that such an afterlife existed, and that it would punish them no matter what they'd done in life, for he had seen and experienced it himself…
And yet now, as he closed his eyes, gazing at that blue sky, so akin to that young princess's eyes, he now wondered if he had been wrong. If, perhaps, that afterlife wasn't meant for him… for the blue was fading to black. For he couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't think anymore. The blue skies hadn't been replaced by that unsettling world. It was all darkness.
He had failed. His purpose, the destruction of the Fire Nation, had gone unfulfilled. Maybe someone else would succeed… but it wasn't in his hands anymore. The burden of a self-imposed destiny had been lifted off him by the cut of that deadly sword.
So much would have been easier if he hadn't been saved from that cave. If Sokka hadn't found help at all, and Rhone had died that day, so long ago… as he was meant to. As he should have, if that accursed afterlife hadn't sent him back for no reason. All this pain… it seemed it had been in vain. His life truly had gone nowhere. And as darkness engulfed him, as the possibility of a world of oblivion, rather than an afterlife, arose in his dying mind, he wondered, for once, if everything had been a mistake. If he had misunderstood… if he had never been meant to see that world at all. If, perhaps, he'd had no purpose, unlike that northern princess. If, perhaps, he had never been meant for the fate he had attempted to reach for…
His eyes remained open, but his heart stopped beating. His last breath vanished into the air: the death he had both dreaded and longed for finally stole away his torn and broken soul.
No one watched as his last remnant of life slipped away. The only person who could have witnessed it happen had his attention fully focused on someone else… someone he was desperate to keep alive.
"Azula… no, Azula, please, come back to me…!" Sokka whimpered, searching for her pulse point in her throat. Xin Long groaned, nudging his rider with his snout, ever so slightly.
The pulse was so weak he could barely find it. Sokka gritted his teeth, letting his hand travel to her left breast instead, searching for her heart… its beats were slow, uneven. As he held up her fragile, pale body, despair clawing away at him as he tried to unravel what to do, his eyes drifted to the wound on her shoulder… to find it was no longer bleeding.
"What…?" he said, and for the second time since they'd known each other, he reached for her clothes to rip them open.
The gash over her skin reached her collarbone. And instead of crimson blood, a black substance stuck to it now. The web of veins underneath the wound was highlighted with a black color, too.
"No… no!" Was it the Spear's corruption? Had it clung to Azula somehow?
Xin Long, unlike Sokka, could tell that wasn't quite it: if the corruption as a whole had hit his rider during that explosion, her body would have decayed rapidly… yet it seemed some of the substance, if just a small amount, had clung to her skin, seeking her blood… seeking her lifeforce.
"What… what do I do? What do I do, Xin?!" Sokka asked, searching for an answer, anything that could help. Anything to save the life of the woman he loved most.
Weakened as he was, Xin Long would have gladly taken his rider on his back and carried her elsewhere… but where? To what avail? All healers were underground… how could they return in time to help her? And how on earth could he convey that reasonable logic to the gladiator, who had never seemed as close to losing his mind as he was now?
This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be. Sokka shook his head repeatedly, his chest aching with pain he had never experienced before: she couldn't die. He couldn't let her die. He was supposed to be the one fighting for her, in danger, facing deadly enemies for her sake… it wasn't supposed to be her at the gates of death, her body growing colder with every passing moment, her heartbeats slowing gradually. If one of them had to die, it was him, not her, never her… she was too valuable. She was important, whereas he…
"Y-you can't… you can't, Azula…" he sobbed, holding her closely, tears burning in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks before he could even realize what was happening "It should be me… I should be in your place…!"
He'd do anything, anything, to save her. He'd trade his life for hers in a heartbeat. He'd run across the world, outside it even, find the source of their universe if that was where he had to go to find a way to keep her alive… but there was no solution in sight. For the only solution to heal such an infection, such corruption, was the gold fire only Azula herself could produce. He gritted his teeth, shaking his head as his body trembled violently, as though rejecting this reality, rejecting the possibility of a world where the brightest, strongest, most beautiful flame of life out of them all could be snuffed out by this nightmare…
Panicked, despairing as he was, Sokka ignored the rushing, numerous footsteps that were approaching them across the beach. Xin Long raised his head, glancing at the new arrivals as Sokka trembled, embracing Azula in a hopeless bid to give her his warmth… as though his lifeforce could chase away what attempted to sap her own.
"Sokka?! Sokka!"
Fei Li's voice startled the gladiator at last, and he whipped his head towards the group of soldiers that rushed towards them… guided by Admiral Zhao, who froze on his footsteps upon spotting the wounded Princess, languishing helplessly in her gladiator's arms. The corpse of the man responsible for this chaos lay halfway towards the shore… and the shattered remains of that cursed Spear were barely a short distance away from the unresponsive young woman.
"Azula…?" Zhao said, heart-wrenching terror he had never thought he'd experience again tearing through his soul. It couldn't be. Azula couldn't be…
"Help…" Sokka's voice was broken, fragile, frantic: tears burned painfully down his cheeks, spilling onto Azula's body, which he held between his violently trembling hands: "Help me save Azula!"
A/N:
Double update next time! I'd say I hope you guys have enjoyed this arc and the latest chapters but I doubt the word applies... at any rate, see you next time with two chapters to hopefully compensate for the latest anguish!