The White Flame (An Avatar Story) Book 2: Warfare

by Aegis Whiteflame

The Rats and the Hornets are gone, but the streets of Citadel never change. Only its players. The Fire Nation's Siege of Ba Sing Se intensifies with every passing day, and the survivors of Citadel's latest turf war, now drafted into the Fire Nation, are on death row to see the worst of what war has to offer.

28. For Better of For Worse

Long Feng

The lower district of Ba Sing Se was on a knife's edge.

Granted, it had been since our soldiers had marched in and declared martial law, but for the last week since General Hondu had made it his personal mission to ensure nothing so 'offending' as a stray rock 'humiliated' his army, he had practically been begging for an altercation.

I couldn't say the same for his soldiers. Most of them, at least. Ba Sing Se was still their home, even if the lower district wasn't. So whether it was a matter of them not wanting to be used as a weapon on their own people, or perhaps having reached an understanding that they were outnumbered a thousand to one, they stayed their hands.

I couldn't say for sure if Hondu was trying to create an incident at this rate. He knew he could hardly just begin cracking down on the smallest activity without starting a war, and so he was relying on coercing those 'dissenters' within the lower district to make the first move for him. Whether this meant increasing guards, performing more 'random checks' at the gates, or even providing on-site housing for soldiers with recurring shifts, the overwatch of the lower district was beginning to resemble more of an occupation with each passing day.

It was the primary difference between the army and Dai Li. The army was accustomed to fighting in an open field, both combatants having shown their hands, deploying their forces, ready to test their competency in the form of a clash of arms, man against man. That, however, was precisely the opposite of the Dai Li, working from the shadows, ensuring that such conflict never saw the light of day. In that sense, Hondu and I had been deployed with the same purpose, to prevent a rebellion in the lower districts, but even so, we were antagonists to one another.

And it was exactly what Grand Secretariat Honang wanted, us at one another's throats. And it was working. Because while half of Ba Sing Se's military staff was divided between exterior and interior defense, the latter fighting a domestic turf war with the city's own secret police, Honang was whispering his sweet tune into Kuei's ear, encouraging him with each passing day to centralize his authority, rein in the Dai Li, the police lest they seek to enforce their "personal interests."

He was one to talk.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, wondering just how many reports I would force myself to go through before calling it a night, and this was after having already had Joo Dee sift through them to separate the important from the irrelevant. The pile of "important" had only grown larger with every day, and I had no doubt that before this war was done, I would need to hire another secretary in addition to Joo Dee whose sole purpose was to sift between that which was immediately vital and that which could wait perhaps an hour or two at the very least.

Near the top of my "important" pile was a dossier on notable public figures within Ba Sing Se's lower districts: agitators, local heroes, elected spokespeople, anybody who could have been behind the recent rise in protests against the King.

In truth, of course, nobody was more responsible than we ourselves. We'd known from the beginning what rationing would entail, especially when implemented as strictly as it was on the lower city. The people were now eating per day what once would have made up a single meal for them. When presented with the Fire Nation's blockade and razing of our farms and fields, nobody within the King's council, including the King himself, could come to an agreement on how to approach the situation.

Kuei had insisted that rationing be equal across the city, a ridiculous notion that was immediately dismissed by his Grand Secretariat. The military council of five had proposed that the military be given the lion's share in order to amplify defenses and be charged with distributing what was left. Honang's, the proposal to eventually succeed, was one of aristocratic distribution, seeing that those within the upper and middle districts would be most well-attended to, essential towards the city's stability, while the lower districts would be left to themselves. At the time, it was the solution I had supported, knowing the other two were far too infeasible to ever properly work, and I was paying for it now.

Whether it was Shemao, a local agitator in the Flower district who'd been organizing protests over the last year that'd just now grown more vocal following our martial law, Pamon, a local Jade District hero who had persuaded a passing caravan intended for the upper district to instead distribute their grain shipment to the people instead, or Chung Pusuwan, magistrate of the Summer District who had lately grown sympathetic to the plight of her people, there were no shortage of troublemakers my agents were keeping tabs on.

It was precisely that which made it all the more concerning however, that details from these reports were starting to intersect. My agents following key persons of interest would find them in the same place at the same time, too often and too recurring to be coincidental. There were meetings happening between notable figures whether they were simple innocent enough run ins at local taverns and public events, or disappearances underground that too much coincided with one another to be coincidence.

It was my job to notice such things, and to bring them to attention to Hondu as he who I was sharing custody of the lower districts with, but I had to wonder what the man would do with the information. Arrest the accused on the streets, seize them from their homes, execute them for conspiracy where all could bear witness? He would only martyr them. What was needed was a subtler touch. Arrest, perhaps, but nothing had been yet done that we knew of to justify capital punishment. They needed to be questioned, their connections exposed, tallied, accounted for. If we could have our eyes and ears on every stage of dissent within the lower districts, then no part of it would be out of our control.

The Dai Li was capable of handling this much on their own, but should it?

No. Doing so would only further antagonize Hondu. He would hear what needed to be said, but I'd already allowed him to turn the lower districts into a playground for his soldiers. This time around, I would be the one calling the shots on how to proceed. We would all burn in a hell of our own making otherwise.

"Joo Dee," I said out loud, calling my secretary's attention. "Do you know if General Hondu is still in his office at this hour?"

She stood in an instant, ready just like that that to serve. "I can go check," she said. "If he is, would you like for me to summon him to you?"

"No," I said, standing on my own. "I'll go to him." It would make him more amenable, I knew, and at this point, I was going to need every advantage that I could get. "Feel free to close up," I added to Joo Dee. "I can take things from here."

"You sure? There's still a lot more to sift through here."

"I'm sure," I said. Fihen, her husband, was home on shore leave for the next few weeks as patrols on the wall were being limited in the wake of the Fire Nation's defeat on the wall and unlikelihood to attack again until Winter was over. I wasn't going to keep her away from home more than I already had, especially only an hour prior to midnight.

She nodded, and I took that as confirmation enough that she'd do as I insisted. I should have stayed behind to see to it that she did, but I was in a rush to ensure that if Hondu was still present. It was another walk that'd take me through the empty halls of the Royal Earth Kingdom palace. But for a few guards ensuring no midnight visitors would be capable of putting a knife to our king's throat, the palace was otherwise a graveyard, giving me the notion that an attempt to visit Hondu at this hour would likely be in vain, but nonetheless, it was something that needed to be tried.

Where I could confidently say that at least one in every five guards roaming these hall had money in their pockets thanks to me and so accordingly could be bothered for a favor or two when the time came, past the doorway of the military wing of the palace, I could make no such claim. These men were, through and through, out of my reach, selected for their loyalty more than by their military merit, which I supposed was what befitted a personal guard as far from the frontlines as one could get. Such loyalty meant that if I wanted eyes and ears within the military wing, they had to be my own. It meant too that those same eyes within the wing all glared at me as I passed no shortage of armed guards, ensuring that even in the most dead hour of the night, there could be no breach of security, which I supposed included me as well.

I was stopped as soon as I entered the wing's lobby, empty but for myself and the guards whose spears barred my entry.

"State your identity and purpose," the guard to the right stated.

They knew who I was, but they wouldn't entertain me in such a light. I could have been in an entirely different kingdom right now; their intent was clear. I had no power here.

"Cultural Minister Long Feng," I answered. "I wish for a meeting with General Hondu. Is he in?"

The same guard who'd asked for my identity studied me for a moment before motioning for the other by his side to do…something. I'm sure the nonverbal communication between them was somewhat commonplace by now, as it was enough to prompt the left-sided soldier to leave into the same entrance he guarded, closing it shut behind him, leaving me alone with his compatriot. He had no interest in speaking; that much was plain enough, more content instead to man his post with the hopes that wherever news his comrade would return with would be one seeing me out of his sight, preferably back the way I'd come.

I didn't recognize the soldier as I did with a good deal of the others, their faces familiar enough that I knew a repeat when I saw one even if I couldn't put a name to it.

"Fresh off the front, soldier?" I asked.

The questioning glare shot back at me was immediate sign to not expect an answer, and so I could only liken myself to my guard in regard to stillness and stoicness until the time came that the door behind him opened once again with his companion bringing the news that, "General Hondu will see him now."

I knew better than to believe such permission to enter was a show of trust as I was immediately handed off to another pair of guards, each flanking either side of me as they led me down the hallway pas offices, strategy rooms, logistic centers, and no shortage of other administrative centers that determined the course of a war happening a few hundred miles away.

At the end of the hall would be the great terrace that served as the Council of Five's chief war room, but before then came Hondu's office off to the right, a glow still shining from within.

So he's up at this hour as well.

I was led inside, met face to face in Hondu's office once again.

"You wanted to see me?" he asked without bothering to look up from a stack of papers on his desk that rivaled even my own.

"I have information that may be of interest to you," I said. Still, Hindu did not bother to meet my eye to eye.

So it's going to be like that.

"It pertains to individuals I believe to be contributing to anti-royal activity in Ba Sing Se's lower districts."

"Unless you have specific identities as well as concrete actionable evidence, I have no interest in the theories you Dai Li are putting together."

"Names and leads," I answered. Not that you've ever needed anything concrete before to act. That got the general to look up to face me. I continued while I still had his attention. "My agents have been keeping tabs on numerous persons of interest for a few weeks now. They've been mostly isolated before as either singular notable individuals or agitators, but lately, their activities have been beginning to line up. Meetings, shared participation in protests, the like.

"And you're only telling me this now?" Hondu asked.

"There was nothing precise to work off of before, but now with my latest reports I can be certain that a good deal of these people are connected and likely have ties to larger networks that have been responsible for anti-royal activities."

I would have gladly added that Hondu, in his usual fashion, likely would have had the men arrested and their tongues cut out of their mouths for speaking ill of the king as things were in the old day before even the thought of a trial could cross his mind, but there was no point in angering him.

Hondu's eyes furrowed, despising the fact that even he could see that I was right in this case to have only been bringing this to his attention now.

"Very well," Hondu said, sneering. "I trust you have a detailed report at the ready then. Let's hear the identities of these malintents."

He moved a hand forward as though expecting me to immediately hand them over. I suppose, however, that by merit of me being here alone, one could come to such a conclusion that I was prepared to share. And I was, but not so simply.

I shook my head, and Hondu immediately punished himself for his brief moment of serenity as he resorted to anger once more. "What game are you playing at, Long Feng?"

"No game," I said matter-of-factly. "Only an assurance."

"And what assurance is that?"

"That you not make martyrs of these people, punish them to showcase your 'undisputed' control over the lower districts."

"What would you suggest instead? Let them roam free? Wait for them to strike?"

"No. Let me question them."

"Why?"

"Because right now we only know a fraction of what they do. Let the Dai Li take custody of them, question them, find out about their connections."

"I thought it was the purpose of the Dai Li to know all of these things about the people they follow."

"It is. That is why we question them. I needed to make my point clear, to make it understood beyond any shadow of a doubt that my way, as far as this was concerned at least, was the only way. I placed my hands on the general's desk, leaning forward as though to make my point all the more clear. "Allow the Dai Li to take custody of these men. I'm bringing this information to you so you know we're acting on this together, not me going behind your back."

General Hondu studied me, as though trying to look into me, see what ulterior motives I may have, if any. Though I was putting an honest foot forward, I was nonetheless thankful that truthseeing was not one of Hondu's earthbending skills. I was paranoid enough having men in my employ with such an ability. I hardly needed those on the opposite side of the interrogation table possessing that same edge.

"The people of the lower district are beginning to doubt our capabilities. If they're snatched without a mark in the middle of the night, there'll be no reason to discourage such future meetings and activities."

"Then make the arrests," I said. "No collateral, just clean arrests, then they can be handed off to me. You assert your position, I get my intelligence, and we both get closer to suppressing activities against his majesty in his city's lower districts. Is this arrangement acceptable to you?"

Another silence. The one that would determining everything here. My breath was held until finally, the general nodded. "You'll have your prisoners tomorrow."

From there, it was a simple matter of giving him the list. The list was not complete, of course. I wasn't about to play my entire hand, but he would have enough to work with, and as would I to start making more headway.

I extended a hand for him to shake, but could only watch as he sat back down. Have it your way, I thought to myself, turning to leave, wondering just how sealed the deal was.

I would need to give him the benefit of the doubt, for all of our sakes.

I left, meeting nowhere near the same resistance that I'd encountered on my way here. Frankly, the guards seemed more than happy to allow me to find my own way out, not wanting the slightest interaction with me to potentially slow my departure.

The walk back was somehow even quieter, the few minutes I'd spent with Hondu having made a difference in seeing the last of the grand place's nonessential workers finally taking their leave if they hadn't already. I would have expected, and would have liked, for that matter, for that to include Joo Dee, but when I saw the light of my office still glowing from beneath the door, I could only sigh as I opened the door to my office to see her still there, head shooting up at me the moment I entered.

"I thought I told you to go home," I said through a false groan. My words aside, there was no lying to myself. It was always good to see her, even when I had expressly asked not to.

"You did," she smiled. "But I couldn't leave just yet. You have a visitor. It's Captain Heli again."

Already? Was there news on the targets this soon? I was already in the midst of wondering if I would need to make a repeat visit back to Hondu to add to his list of targets. "Did he say what for?" I asked.

"Said it was something to do with recruitment. Finally getting the men you asked for?"

"Something like that," I answered, wondering if the news I was about to get was on the positive or negative side of things. I supposed I would find out in mere minutes. "I'll lock up," I added. "Get yourself home."

She nodded, her first act to gather together a number of papers on her desk, reports, files, and the like, planning on taking them home it seemed.

"And leave your work here," I insisted. "Get some rest."

It must have been second instinct to her. She hadn't even realized she was holding half of her desk's contents beneath her armpit before her eyes suddenly flashed in realization, and she set them back down. "Sorry," she chuckled. "Long day."

That it was. She needed her sleep.

She made for the door, stopping at the threshold with one hand on it to spin on her heel and say to me in a way that she could have convinced me to do anything in that moment, "Get some rest too when you can, mhm?"

I smiled, half tempted to leave out the entrance with her right now, but there was work still to be done. "I will," I assured her.

With that, she smiled and left, leaving me with what would, hopefully, be my last meeting of the day.

I didn't need to turn to know that Heli was already here, watching.

"I'm vaguely certain my secretary told you to wait in my office?"

There was a reason Heli was the captain of my Dai Li. He was everything one should be: quiet, resourceful, cunning, and loyal. To anybody else, I immediately would have called my guards in at the slightest notion that I wasn't alone, but when I knew the man in question was him, I only knew that I was more safe with him lurking in the shadows than without.

"She did," he said, stepping out of those very same shadows. "Do you trust her?"

"Is that why you hide in the darkest corner of my lobby?" I asked, still not looking his way, but instead walking towards the window where, against the dark of the outside, I could see the captain's reflection behind me. "Worried she would put a dagger to my throat?"

"I ask because you seem to trust her with a good deal of information," he clarified.

"She's my secretary. She wouldn't be much use to me if I couldn't."

There was a silence from the captain; I tried to decipher just what his concern seemed to be. I had to turn around to be able to better make out that look of unhidden uncertainty. The silence persisted, him refusing to elaborate. I was growing frustrated. He was impossible to read but for what he wanted me to be able to read. I should've been a damned truthseer.

"What?" I finally asked, tired of waiting for him to explain himself.

"How much does she know?"

"She's not a breach in security," I asserted.

"It's my job to safeguard security of our operations," Captain Heli said, as though needing to remind me of the position I'd given him. "What does she know about lake Laogai?"

"Spirits, Heli. Is that what this is about?"

"When you told me to spearhead the Lake Laogai operation, you made sure I wouldn't allow knowledge of it to be revealed to the public. I'm sorry to ask, sir, but I need to be clear on what she knows to ensure that there's nothing that can be revealed through her."

"She knows that it's an offsite base of operations for the Dai Li," I said. "No different than what anybody else knows. Barracks, planning center, interrogation facility, nothing more than that."

That was all Heli needed to hear. He said nothing more, and I couldn't help but scoff. "I'm not sure whether to fire you or give you a raise for this," I said.

"Just doing my job, sir."

That he was, and I had to give him credit where it was due.

"Joo Dee mentioned you had news about our recruitment measures," I said, wanting to return the conversation to why we were here in the first place. "You have news then on them?"

"We did, minister, yes. As you expected, prolonged care isn't in the military budget. They cut off their injured like they were nothing."

"They don't have the funds to pay for non-fielded personnel," I noted, taking a seat behind Joo Dee's desk, needing somewhere to rest my legs after a day of walking back and forth between the various rooms and stations of the royal palace. "So has recruiting from their ranks worked as we hoped?"

"Better," the captain said. "We emphasized the continued opportunity they would be given to serve their King. Most jumped at the opportunity, some even felt embittered enough towards the army to join just to stick it to them, but many still distrust the Dai Li."

I scoffed, my mind tracing to Joo Dee's husband, the picture perfect example of a military-man, attitude and biases alike. "Old habits die hard."

"Not hard enough. We recruited forty-seven of our fifty-six prospective earthbenders."

"And all of them capable of recovering from their wounds?"

"They wouldn't have been recruited otherwise. "

Just like that, nearly fifty earthbending agents, ready to be at my disposal within a month, or two at most. I couldn't get my men from the King, from the man whispering into his ear, or consensually from the army, but if they were to be discarded anyway, then it was on;y fair what was left be handed to those who could make something of it.

"Our first batch of combat-ready recruits arrive to Lake Laogai for training by the end of the week," Captain Heli continued. "Would you like to see them?"

Would I like to see my new batch of agents? I smiled to myself at the thought. Fifty soon to be extraordinarily trained agents soon to be at my disposal, unknown to the King, the secretariat, the army, anybody but myself, Heli, and the agents themselves. Yes, I would have very much liked to see them. But not yet.

"Yes," I said, "but not yet. It wasn't time yet. Fifty agents, that was a damn good start, but it wasn't enough. Not to save Ba Sing Se. Not by a long shot. There was still a lot to be done.

"I have a job for you first, Captain."

He nodded, ready to hear it.

"I have given the names of several notable individuals resisting Earth Kingdom activities in the lower districts to General Hondu. He will be performing arrests as soon as possible, likely as early as tomorrow morning. I want you to be present, keep your men on all person of interest, and ensure the arrests proceed as planned. There will be no corporal punishment, no mock trials, no executions."

"Do I have permission to intervene if necessary?"

"You do, as well as to carry out the arrests yourself if need be. Should Hondu hold to his end of the bargain, the prisoners will be ours by the end of tomorrow, but if he doesn't, ensure that they still are. Understood?"

The Captain nodded, and it was clear. Whether General Hondu was going to play along or not, I would have what I wanted. And nothing in or out of this city could change a thing about that.

Colonel Lu Ten

It'd been a while since the Division command had been gathered this same way. The last time I could think of had been in the days immediately preceding our attack on the wall. After that, well, we hadn't needed a committee gathered to tell us how greatly we had failed, nor that we needed time to regain our bearings, recover, give ourselves a fighting chance of holding out throughout the Winter.

And Winter was in fact here, bearing down on us to the point that I'd required a guide just to help me find my way to my father's tent, the velvet carpet of it now more white than red as a result of the snow that'd fallen off my shoulders as well as those of the other brigade commanders who gathered around now, hoping that maybe today, finally, we could take the first steps in putting ourselves back together, and finishing what we'd started.

Shamefully enough, I'd been the last to arrive, and ensured that I stayed kneeling far longer than the others likely had in the hopes that it may in part cleanse me of that shame. I knew none would hold it against me. Such were the perks of being the son of not only the Siege's general, but that of our Nation's crown prince. Notwithstanding, the same still was mine, and so I rose only a few seconds after my father spoke and commanded me to do so.

"I'm glad to see you've all managed to find your way here," Iroh said, smiling as he often enough did, eliciting a small chuckle from across the room from the other colonels whose journeys had likely been no easier than mine. "With any luck, our enemies may similarly get lost in the snow and forget where their outer wall is. Another room-wide chuckle. And like that, the atmosphere of the room was whole again, and we could begin.

Iroh's mood hardened, only slightly. Not enough to be a stark contrast from his previous jovial mood, but enough at least to remind us that we were here to work, not to play. "Were it so easy," he said. "We do not need to discuss our failures as I'm sure we've already tormented ourselves enough over them."

That was putting it lightly. It was a blow to not only the command, but to the very men who'd caught a glimpse of victory only to had it plucked away from them at the last moment. Not because the enemy was better, not because they were stronger. That, we all could have accepted, and used to fuel ourselves to prepare in this time for our next attempt. But it hadn't been that. We'd lost because of the mistakes of our own, because of a gloryhound who'd put the title of "wall-breaker" or "conqueror" above his men, above his nation, above victory, and so had snatched it away from us.

"Instead," general Iroh continued, "We are here to ensure that it does not happen again, and that when this Winter is over, we may finally finish what we started. I take it by now that we have all more than assessed our manpower. Your reports?"

Physically closest to him, Iroh looked to Colonel Arok of the 217th Brigade, awaiting his report. He cleared his throat, and spoke. "The 217th Brigade is at eighty-three percent fighting strength. Our armored units sustained the greatest casualties, the 22nd and 84th below fighting capacity, the 31st and 156th just above."

"As for you infantry?" the general asked.

"Only a very limited number of casualties were sustained from rocket fire. Our armored didn't make it far enough for us to deploy our ground troops."

General Iroh nodded, then turned to the next colonel, Nuzao, to ask the same questions, and so the report continued, with roughly similar reports throughout the ranks. Armored will have taken the brunt of casualties with infantry taking a few scrapes and bruises, though with nothing altogether too severe. Frankly, it was fortunate how relatively unscathed they'd been, especially compared to the near total annihilation that the 64th Division has sustained.

That went for those colonels, however. I was already dreading when my turn came. It was general common knowledge that the 91st Brigade, my brigade, had taken more of a hit than the others, but still, that didn't make me any more eager to say the numbers out loud.

But I couldn't put it off forever. Soon enough, all eyes were on me expectantly, last but certainly not least, my father, General Iroh, the Dragon of the West, asking, "Colonel Lu Ten?"

There was no point hesitating. I just had to get it over with, not beat around the bush, and accept responsibility for what'd happened.

"The 91st Brigade is at sixty-three percent fighting strength." Those numbers equated to not being combat ready, below two thirds fighting capacity. "The 212th Armored Company is at forty-three percent fighting strength, the 501st at forty-two percent, 44th at sixty-three, and 327th at fifty-one. Our infantry battalions were hit hard as well, the 117th at eighty-five percent, 93rd at sixty-seven, 21st at seventy-one, and 119th at seventy-eight."

The eyes of the command tent were on me. It didn't take a mathematician to realize just how much of a blow that really was. It was bad. Almost as bad as it could get.

The tent was quiet, reflecting, none daring to speak first in response to how the Fire Nation prince had failed. The silence must've only been seconds, but they could've stretched for hours as far as I could feel it.

It would finally be broken when my father would speak.

"Your brigade made it furthest, did it not?"

It had. The top of the wall in fact. Our tanks had seen the other side before falling right back to the earth or being forced to retreat on my order when we'd learned the battle was lost.

I nodded.

"Your tanks made it furthest, closest to a breakthrough, and so you had deployed your infantry to battle Earth Kingdom forces below the wall, unlike the other commanders. You followed your orders, and excelled, nearing victory, and when you knew the battle was lost, you pulled them back to prevent more from falling. There is no shame in what happened, my son."

Tell that to the dead, I murmured to myself, not knowing if any of the others had heard it. Perhaps I had gotten away with it, and they hadn't, but they'd certainly felt it.

"What happened before will not happen again," said the general. "We will be sure of it."

Colonel Arok cleared his throat. "With all due respect, general, how do we make sure of that? We've seen our casualty numbers, and while none here can have the blame put on them, the fact stands that we are sorely undermanned."

"We will fill the gaps in our ranks."

"How?" colonel Nuazo asked. "Impose a raised levy on surrounding occupied territories? We cannot put the fate of the invasion in the hands of conscripted serfs from the Earth Kingdom."

"There are always the colonies," colonel Ozero suggested.

I shook my head. "Colonial levies would be undertrained and underequipped, and take too long to mobilize. To march them from the colonies to here alone would take a month at the very least. Through winter, it could take until early Spring. And that's simply to get them here. To rain them…" I didn't bother finishing the sentence. It was no use. The other commanders could see that.

"So, what other choice is there?" asked Nuzao.

"My father offered me a near division's worth of men when the siege began," my father, General Iroh, spoke up, referring of course to the Fire Lord himself, Azulon. "I declined, believing it better that I recruit from neighboring territories. This was my mistake, but I have no doubt that my father's offer still stands."

Of course it does, I felt, suddenly feeling a good deal relieved. My grandfather was capable of a good many things. He had been capable of expanding the Fire Nation by twice the extend as its borders had been before his reign, more than even Fire Lord Sozin my great grandfather had. He had been capable of bringing the Southern Water Tribe to the brink of total annihilation, and the war to the Earth King's doorstep. Treating his children equally, however, that never was something that my grandfather had been very good at.

There was no questioning that his elder son, a soldier who'd risen through the Fire Nation's ranks, fought his nation's wars, killed the last dragon, and had the initiative to succeed, was the preferred choice over my uncle, sorry as I was to admit it from time to time, feeling pity for the man who I bore no ill will.

My father continued. "These men are trained, battle-ready, and eager to serve. They can be across the eastern sea in half a month's time to replace and supplement our fallen."

"Even so," Arok continued, "Not to the same extent as that which we had before. Our lines are more stretched, and the Earth Kingdom has had time to fortify. They know our attack can only come from one direction now, and even with men to replace our ranks, it will take time to receive the armored units needed to make the same breakthrough."

"Which is why we will not make the same breakthrough," my father asserted. "We cannot rely on misdirection as we intended to last time. We must learn from our enemy, adapt. We must match our strength against theirs, and we must prevail."

Already, this was beginning to sound like one of my father's insightful lectures. The commanders of this room had been subjected to them more than enough times, and I as Iroh's son, more than any of them put together.

And something I'd learned in all these times was that my father was never wrong.

We'd tried to fight the Earth Kingdom the way our nation taught us to—the Fire Nation way. Light on our feet, fast, aggressive, and our speed had betrayed us when we'd hit the Earth Kingdom's great wall of Ba Sing Se. We wouldn't win.

"With their time to prepare?" Nuzao questioned. "We'd be running face first into a brick wall."

We wouldn't win if we fought as firebenders did. We needed to think the way our enemy did—stubborn, resolute, unflinching, grounded, unbreakable.

"We need to stand our ground and whittle them down," I said. "Poke at their defenses, extend their ranks as thin as possible, and seize the first gap we can find to breakthrough at lightning speed."

General Iroh turned to look towards me. "How do you plan to do this?"

I hadn't thought it completely through and, in fact, was making up a good deal of it on the spot, but I was sure that planning longer would not have filled the gaps that were already there now. There was no harm in getting the idea out to either discard or improve upon it, and so I spoke.

"We can use our artillery. We brough enough batteries to level the actual city to the ground once we reached the inner gate. We put them to use now, batter their walls, clear their defenses atop, and barrage the inner ring."

"A single artillery campaign?" Ozero asked, perplexed. "Naturally they will never bring down the walls, but even to clear them long enough, that will not do the trick."

"I'm not suggesting a single artillery campaign. I'm suggesting constant fire, day and night, beginning now until the day we strike."

It was bold, very bold. Ridiculous even, to suggest such a thing, but that was the idea I had. The start of one at least. Such a campaign would weaken their walls. The continual strike would ensure their men would not be able to constantly man the walls, and to end shells over the wall as well would ensure they can't habitate anywhere near them. The walls would be undefended until the shells were to stop falling, when we would attack. It would give us time, reduce the Earth Kingdom's defenses to only that which they could muster in mere minutes of time. It was a chance, and the others were beginning to see the same.

"We have nowhere near the ammunition needed for a prolonged barrage, especially one that would last months as you are suggesting."

"The ammunition can be sourced," my father said. "The navy isn't using theirs. They will provide."

With the navy's gun and ammunition, it is indeed possible. There was a slight flutter in my chest. This was going somewhere.

"I imagine your intent with such artillery fire is to also weaken enemy morale?" Colonel Arok. "Would not our own men suffer the same fate, kept awake day and night by artillery?"

"We can place our guns at the front of the line, far enough our men will be undisturbed."

"At that rank, our guns will be vulnerable to Earth Kingdom counter-artillery. The moment we stop firing is the moment they fire back."

"Which is why we do not stop firing," my father said, smiling at me. I knew that look in his eyes. He saw. Saw that I understood. The look was short lived, but it meant everything right then. He turned back to his colonels. "We match the stubbornness of their impenetrable city with our own stubbornness, and we prevail. We give the enemy no time to prepare, to respond. We rain fire upon them until our time comes, and when it does, they shall have but seconds to response. We will perfect this plan in the coming months, perfect our plan of attack, and bear down upon our enemy until there is nothing left of them to defend their kingdom with.

"I will make a request to Fire Lord Azulon for the troops he had offered me before. Morale will be shaken by the men to see their fallen replaced. See to your men, all of you, remind them that victory is coming. We will prevail."

We will, I smiled. I'd believed it when we first arrived to this city a year ago, but every day since then had put that same faith to question, but not now. We had men, we had resolve, we had what it took. We had tasted victory before, but now that we had tasted it, we wanted more. We wanted the bite. We wanted this city. We wanted the world. And we would take it. We have to.

Fluke

Just put one foot in front of the other, and lean forward. It wasn't complicated. It shouldn't have been complicated at least. It was one of the simplest things in the world, an art I'd mastered since I was two years of age and hadn't stopped doing since–walking.

So why was it so damn hard now?

The table I was using for support rolled forward, faster than I could keep up with it, trying as I might have to keep my weight put atop it. All the same, it slipped forward, and so I fell, pulling it down with me to the ground with a violent clatter that was sure to not go unnoticed.

I had the misfortune of landing right on my right arm, the one that'd already been broken and, at this rate, was certain to shatter once again.

It hurt like hell, that much was true, but at the very least, it didn't quite seem like anything had wounded itself more than it already was. That was the one plus side in having a cast around my arm thicker than the hull of a Fire Nation tank.

That didn't mean it hadn't hurt like hell, however.

Soon enough, my nurse, whose name I now knew to be Sheru, arrived just in time to drag me off the ground, no amount of struggle I made capable of allowing me to rise on my own and place myself back into my own bed and try to pretend that none of this had happened.

Instead, I would need to suffer through the same lecture that I'd heard five days ago when I'd tried to cut my cast free from the ceiling support that kept my right arm suspended three days ago when I had the brilliant idea of trying to bend with my right hand in spite of the fact I, for all intents and purposes, did not have a right hand, resulting in severe spasms that even I couldn't ignore and had to shout for painkillers to ease, and yesterday when I'd made my first attempt to leave, managing to pass it off simply as having fallen out of my bed.

I wouldn't be able to make that same excuse today. I'd made it a whole five yards away. And I didn't have the time to come up with an excuse, not that I needed to. Sheru had already put the pieces together by the time he was propping me up from beneath my left shoulder, walking me one quarter step at a time back to my cot.

"How many times do I need to tell you?" he asked. I decided it was a rhetorical question, the answer certainly less than thrive if I was already on my fourth escape attempt, and, knowing myself, certainly likely to be somewhere much further after this lecture. "You can't keep acting out like this. You're only going to further injure yourself. You need to give your body time to heal."

He set me down on my bed, the mere effort of sitting on my ass sending a flurry of relief through my muscles, no longer needing to bear my own weight. What the hell had happened to me? I wondered. Just weeks ago, I was a soldier, a fighter, a killer, capable of putting down an earthbender twice my size, having done so more than once. Now I was a damned empty husk, barely able to even lift my own helmet to try and remember what I once was.

"You call this 'healing?'" I asked, lifting my right arm as though I needed to show him the cast to remind him of what I was here for, and the state I'd been left in.

"Yes," the nurse replied. "It's a miracle you can even lift your arm after what it's been through. You should have lost it weeks ago."

"Because this is much better?"

"You tell me. You're the one who nearly burned our camp down to keep it."

And why had I? I wondered. I supposed back then, my hopes for recovery had been somewhat greater. I hadn't yet needed to endure weeks of confinement in the same empty medical tent where all others had either already died or been discharged. I was the 'lucky' exception, the anomaly that should have been counted among those too far that I would have been better off killing myself rather than draining Fire Nation resources, but instead was still alive, but still no soldier. Nowhere close. But the longer I stayed here, a leech, away from where I belonged-the field, the longer that would be the case.

"I'm dying here," I said.

"No, you're not," Sheru said, forcing me to lie back down. "You only feel that way. You're recovering, whether you see it or not. But if you keep on acting as irresponsibly as this, you'll only delay your progress. Stop acting recklessly, stop getting yourself hurt, and you'll be fine."

"When?"

"In time for you to enjoy victory when it comes. Now, rest."

Sheru seemed to believe that such an answer was meant to relieve me, that it was what I wanted to hear. He seemed to believe that what I wanted was to be whole by the time this war was done, to reap the benefits, to not live my life as a cripple. As though I hadn't made it clear enough by now. This wasn't about my arm, this wasn't about being whole of body by the time this war was over and victory came to us. I didn't want to be around for victory to come. I wanted to, needed to bring that victory. I needed to be out there, fighting, no different than any of the others. Anything less, and how could I call myself a soldier? How could I look myself in the eye?

But in a way, I couldn't help but confess that Sheru was right. Not about me recovering here. Not about me needing to be patient. Not about any of that bullshit. I needed to be smart it I was ever going to get out of here. It was my own fault, I supposed, for trying to use something with wheels, for letting myself be heard, for stopping too soon.

I didn't make that same mistake the time after, nor the time after that when it had failed too.

To keep track of how many times I had tried and failed to regain possession of my faculties was more difficult than to remember the certainly forgotten number of how many lives I'd taken as a soldier, but as I was in the field, I was persistent in this as well.

I grew better at keeping my failures to myself lest I draw the unwanted attention of the good doctor who would continue to deliver the same lecture in the days that followed. But I began to take more of his words to heart. I was patient. I learned when he was around, when he wasn't. I walked in circles around the tent when he was not around, let the muscles build in my legs again before they could be lost for good. I started walking in little more than my nightclothes, using the walls and bolted down furnishings and equipment for support. Soon, I no longer needed them to move. Some days after, I began wearing my equipment as I did my laps around the tent as well, wearing my uniform, armor, and kit on me at all times, all thirty-five pounds of them. I would do this in whatever spare time there was, whether it was the half hour that we was gone to requisition and bring me meals me from logistics, in the hour I gave myself before sleeping and after waking, cutting my sleep by two hours, but for a cause that was worth it, and any other chance than that I could find.

I was committed. I was tired of being kept a hostage, a prisoner not by Sheru, but by my own body, decaying with every minute I wasn't putting it to use. He meant well, I was sure, but I'd lived in Citadel long enough to understand that the world didn't wait for you to rest and recover. Gangs didn't stop fighting, and those around you didn't stop assessing every minute whether you were worth the food you ate or not. I had no trouble remembering the time I'd been out of commission thanks to a caravan guard's spear. I still had the scar on my left shoulder to prove it, a nasty bite.

That'd been one thing, the wound itself. The infection, becoming an empty husk after that, that was another. The Hornets should have left me for dead on that street and it would have been the economical choice. It was only because of Danev that I'd lived through that, but the call was close.

Even if the Fire Nation wouldn't quite leave me for dead in the same way, there was no discounting that I would be discarded in their own way, 'honorably discharged' as they called it, send back home to Citadel which for me in this state, after everything, was about as close to a death sentence as the Fire Nation would give me to the point I'd have preferred a firing squad. At least that would be more humane and quicker. It was no different, if not worse. The world would not wait for me to recover, the war would pass me by, and I would be right back where I'd started–a dead man. I couldn't blame Sheru for not knowing. He wouldn't get it. How could he? He thought he was doing the right thing, and I almost envied that ignorance of his, but as for me, I didn't have such a luxury of innocence. I knew what was waiting for me if I stayed here.

As such, I had to get out. Of course, saying was an entirely different thing from doing, but I'd been preparing.

My laps had grown faster, more confident. I could now completely make the inner perimeter of the tent in only two minutes, which, granted, was quite pathetic when compared to an average person who would have been able to do double the length in half the time, but I hardly needed to outrun anybody, prevail in some grand chase. I needed to get out in the time available to me, and get as far away as possible.

I'd debated for a time where to go. I knew, of course, what my first thought was, but I'd tried to put it aside, more out of spite than out of logic. I'd considered trying to find the colonel, Lu Ten, but such a man was too far above me. It wasn't to say I was embarrassed so much as that such a thing was no doubt below him, and that to waste his time, it was unbecoming. For a time I'd considered just finding my way to a logistics and personnel unit as quickly as possible to find out about my transfer, and had even pried Sheru for a time, wondering if he may know anything, asking if I'd been reassigned somewhere that I should report to.

"Likely not yet," the nurse had answered while changing the bandages around my cast. From what I hear, orders have just now been dispersed to the brigades to start expecting reinforcements. Looks like they'll be doing a whole personnel shakeup. Your name'll probably be put somewhere, but we'll sort it out, make sure they're not accidentally waiting for a one-armed vegetable to fill their ranks."

I don't need two to kill you. I'd kept the fleeting thought to myself, of course, limited to just flexing the fingers of my good hand to see if I could still feel the heat rising there. I could. Good.

Insulting, indeliberately or otherwise though it was, it'd told me that I couldn't hope for a reassignment. Not yet. It would have been plain stupidity to try and hide out somewhere for weeks to come until that day would arrive, which had all led me back to the first and most obvious choice.

I couldn't say for sure why it was that I still held on to such a resentfulness for Danev.

If it was for leaving me, then it would have made no sense. I'd realized it then, and understood it just as well now. It was the smart decision, the right decision for he and his men. If it was that he had let people I cared about, people like Mykezia die under his care, then it was idiotic. If there was anybody I knew that would do everything in their power to protect those they had a responsibility to protect, it was Danev. If it was for him only choosing to visit me over a week after my injury, for not coming in sooner, then maybe I was still a kid. But I wasn't. Not after everything. There was no comprehensible reason for why I felt the way I did, but irrationality didn't rely on logic and reason. But pushing past it did.

It helped that there was no other viable option. It was that push I needed, that drive, that destination that would allow me to finally leave, to begin to make things, to be the soldier I needed to be.

At the end of it all, it was near insulting how easy it was. It occurred to me as I took those simple steps outside, stomach full from my evening meal, uniformed and all with but a casted arm to give me away into the cold night air that it hadn't been Sheru keeping me there. It hadn't been my circumstances, my overseers, my nurse, my army's bureaucracy that'd kept me in that bed far longer than I should have. As I let myself breath in the cool night air, it occurred to me that the sole blame fell to myself, but I was done with that. Done with it all. Done with holding myself back. The choice was mine now, and so I had made my decision as I took those first steps towards the direction of the 114th's new camp, back where it had all started.

I chose to fight.

Danev

Spirits, it felt good to be back.

Never would I have imagined that I would have felt so relieved to be back here. Whenever I pictured it, I thought that it would have to be with iron shackles bound around each of my limbs and my torso, dragging me behind a herd of ostrich horses just to get me to even approach the 64th's positions once again.

But here I was, unable to help but feeling a sense of being at home as I stared at nothing more than the tightly-pressed earthen walls that Mano had spent the last new two weeks patching together to prevent a cave-in and the small nailed up sign that read "Jiāyuán."

The relief was not only my own. It permeated throughout the 114th's trench line, and there was no questioning that we were in the best state we had been since our failure at the wall.

We all still bore the marks of that failed endeavor, of course, some more physically than others, but back here where we belonged, it seemed as though the chance could be given to us to do just that.

Already, we were on the road to recovery. Shozi was back with us, only a small deal worse for wear, as were our other wounded. Our casualties would be limited to only those that'd been sustained during the battle, but even that, that cost itself was not a low one. And it was a cost that stuck with us.

It was impossible not to notice that Mykezia's bunk where it once was, across the width of Dragon Platoon's subterranean barracks, was left empty. As was Mahung's, Cheree's, and those of many others we'd lost there.

It won't happen again, I told myself. We couldn't let it.

I pushed myself out of my bunk. It was approaching dinnertime and I wanted to check in with our new logistics officer, Tokai, not quite so eccentric as our old one, Zurom, but certainly having a few screws loose himself. New additions to the 91st as the 114th company was, even if for a year now, it hardly matched the year of history that the man would have had with all the rest. While ordinarily it would have been Rulaan's job to secure good relations with logistics, which he most certainly was doing too, I figured there was no harm in seeing about getting in good with the man myself. Showing I had my attention put on the right things.

I was careful not to shake my bunk too much as I pushed myself out of it lest I disturb a dormant Shozi sleeping above. I'd let him catch his rest while he would, sure as hell needing it since the beating he took on the wall. I figured I'd wake him up when dinner was ready, but for now, I did everything I could to keep the man sleeping as I slid my way out.

A few others in the barracks were sleeping as well, namely Penar and Rinu. In one corner of the barracks, Aosore and Murao were caught in a quiet game of pai sho, careful not to disturb any of the others, a stark contrast from what the general atmosphere was of things outside the underground sleeping chamber.

There, things still were well and alive, all troops of the 114th well mixed amongst one another whether they were half-attentive at their posts while dedicating the other half of their focus to casual chatter, or others who were playing a variety of games such as cards, a few playing "I-spy" in no man's land, and a few others even playing tag with one another.

It was hard to remember from time to time that in spite of being soldiers, sent to fight the post pivotal campaign of a near hundred year long war, we were all just kids who, from our youngest memories, had been struggling to find a semblance of youth just as much as we would struggle to find a meal for a day.

We'd never had what those within the interior had possessed, what those in the Fire Nation had been given, what those within the very walls we besieged now had always had–a childhood. They had memories of what life was like before a war was at their footsteps. They could bring back fond memories, no doubt, of when the biggest concern of the day had been if every one of their friends would make it for afternoon earth ball or whatever the hell it was I heard they played inside the earth kingdom.

And we were bringing an end to that.

It wasn't an easy fact to come to terms with. Justifying it by saying we ourselves had never had the same luxuries as kids could only take me so far. The true and unalienable fact was that with every day we put their city under siege, barraged their walls, their lives became all that bit worse. I couldn't pretend to know what was going on in there, of course. None of us could. Their earth wall may as well have been an iron dome as far as anybody was concerned, nobody going in nor out but for elusive arms dealers who sought to make a profit off of this war, off the killing, off of children losing what was left of their fleeting youth.

Because just as the starvation, the echo of cannon fire, the conscription in the army was stripping them of all they had, it was doing the same to us. Looking around, I could see it now. I could see as Chejuh stood at his post, hand cannon slung over his shoulder, mid conversation with Rinu and Tosa, the latter of whom was in the midst of telling some tall tale, he was looking back over the trench line every few seconds, never knowing if and/or when the Earth Kingdom may use the quietest moment to rain down death upon us with artillery, an infantry charge, or anything else they could muster.

I could see as Zihe allowed a small flame to dance between his hands as though in a small juggling act meant for himself and only himself, he was staring off past the dancing lights towards a blank wall, acting on muscle memory more than anything else as his mind wandered to somewhere only he and the spirits knew, his stare spanning a thousand yards, but going nowhere at the same time.

And I could see as those who had been the best among us were slowly being reduced to shadows of who they once were, no choice but to harden their shells and become the soldiers they would need to be if they were ever to survive this all.

"Try that shit again and I'll bite your fucking fingers off," I could heard a voice come from around the bend of the trench as I walked through. Had I not known any better, I would have thought it was Mykezia, but obviously, that couldn't be the case.

It came as much of a shock to me as to those she'd been threatening when I turned to corner to see that it was Ele, staring down Raza and Homun from her platoon-Bat.

"Didn't mean anything by it," Raza said. "Just was trying to adjust your-"

"I know exactly what the fuck you were doing, and I will cut your cock off if you-"

"Raza" I said, interrupting Ele before her threats could go any further, especially considering the fact that she was already reaching for her dagger. "Homun. Is there a problem here?"

"No, sir!" Homun said, saluting me even in spite of the fact that I wasn't their platoon commander, but more as a sign of respect that I supposed I'd earned for myself in one way or another over the last few months. "Private Ele's utility belt was coming loose and-"

"Oh don't you even try that shit," Ele exclaimed, now turning to me. "Fuckers were trying to cop a feel."

"I swear we weren't," Raza said, raising his hands in his defense.

They would have had to be pretty damned stupid to try such a thing, especially in Bat Platoon's section of our trench surrounded by dozens of others who would have beat them to a pulp if they really had tried such a thing. Even now, the small debacle had caught the attention of a good few others, half trying to figure out what was happening, and another half already prepared to jump to Ele's defense whenever the need arose, having already made their choice in who to believe.

They weren't necessarily wrong to do so either. There was no doubt that Ele had been an object of desire between some soldiers of the company before and with Mykezia gone, options had grown rather limited, but notwithstanding, the two did seem sincere. There was no way to tell for sure who was telling the truth at this moment, but I wasn't about to let blood be spilled over it either way.

"Get the fuck out of here," I said to the two of them, who proceeded to immediately nod, salute, and run off. Whether they were guilty or not, I'd find the time let Bat's lieutenant, Cheno, know what'd happened. From what I was hearing, this incident wasn't an isolated not. Not attempted groping, however, but Ele's growing hostility.

"You alright?" I turned now to ask her.

"Fine," she said simply, already on her way out now that the crisis seemed so suddenly over. I wasn't letting her off that easily, however. Not after that whole scene.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" I asked, headed after her.

"Nothing," she said, clearly putting her all into dismissing me. Such accusation weren't 'nothing,' however, and if anything, were all the more reason to ask questions. Bureaucratically, the responsibility should have been left to Bat's lieutenant, Cheno, but he wasn't here right now. I was.

I knew that this wasn't the first incident of something like this, and so it only felt right to look into things, make sure that within our own ranks, we didn't have people trying to take advantage of other soldiers in such a fashion. "If there's something going on that shouldn't, then please, do yourself a favor and say something. You can't-"

She finally turned now, though not with the disposition of one beginning to cooperate. Quite the opposite in fact. "I'm fucking fine, Danev," she snarled. "And if I wasn't, it wouldn't concern you, yeah? Can handle myself! Sure as hell don't need you getting involved."

There was something stressed about 'you' in the way she said this that I couldn't help but now think there was something personal about it all. I know that hardly should have been my priority-wondering how this possibly involved me, but nonetheless, it was on my mind, even as she stared me down.

"Ele," I tried to say.

"Not your platoon anyway," she retorted before I could get a true word in edgewise, taking another step away as she did so. "Just worry about keeping the rest of yours in one piece."

There was nothing more to say. She, at least, seemed to think that, done with the conversation and walking off as she was.

Damnit, I thought to myself as I watched her leave, somebody who hardly resembled the same Ele that'd been with us at Citadel and even here on the frontlines before our attack on the wall. Gone was the timid sharpshooter too shy to even grab a drink with the rest of us, and here instead was somebody even I would hesitate to approach.

I knew it had something, if not everything to do with the battle, with losing Myezkia, the one she could always rely on for protection and support before. I supposed that, with her gone, there was little choice but to grow, adapt, become whatever the hell this was if it meant her own survival. I saw the sense in it, sure, but it didn't change the fact that it hurt to watch, knowing there was little I could do about it, instead just standing put, watching the empty trench corridor left empty but for myself by her departure.

I was thankful then when there'd be another voice to break the silence and approach.

"Guess I'm too late then, hm?" Captain Rulaan asked, approaching from behind me.

I nodded. "So you heard?"

Next to me now, Rulaan nodded as well. "Homun and Raza came to me. Told me what happened."

"To clear their name before you could hear it from anyone else?"

"No," Rulaan said. "They seem worried, to be honest."

"Hell; who can blame them? Hardly the same Ele we had before. More like Mykezia than anything hrm?" I tried to smile. I couldn't.

Rulaan sighed, and turned to look at me. It didn't take a genius to identify the fact that events were hitting him hard as well, but I suppose in much the same way as me, he was putting it aside, as best as he could at least, in order to do his job. "You were headed somewhere? Figure you didn't come all the more from Dragon just to get in the middle of a platoon squabble."

"Off to see Tokai," I answered. "Get the boys their evening snack before the others so they ain't left waiting."

"Good luck with that," Rulaan chuckled. "Not nearly the same teddy bear as Zurom. And this one hates people trying to go out of term." His voice quieted. "Hell, I think he just hates 'bout everyone."

I chuckled at the remark, remembering the good ol' Zurom all too well, nice enough if you played by his stringent regimen. "I can be persuasive," I said, trying to put on the same winning smile that'd doubtless ensure I had my way.

It wasn't very convincing. Especially not for Rulaan, who knew I still had the incident with Ele on my mind.

"Sure you can," Rulaan responded. "Want some company?"

Do I? In all truth, much as I would have ordinarily been happy for a man like him around, I wasn't sure just how beneficial it would be, especially with his own head in not too a different place as mine. Time with him, I had a feeling things would loop around to both of us mulling over our failures, nothing productive sure to come from it.

If there was anybody I needed to be with, it would have to be somebody who wouldn't just let me sink deeper into whatever this was. And seeing as how those options were pretty lacking right then, I figured going alone was the better choice.

"Thanks," I said, "but I shouldn't keep you."

"Yeah," Rulaan sighed, probably now considering the great many things he himself needed to get done without distracting himself. "Should check in with Cheno. Make sure his men aren't antagonizing Ele or, doing anything to make her think they're antagonizing her."

"She's had it rough," I said.

"We all have, but we need to keep on going, yeah? We stay like this, thinking about what could have been, we never get out of it."

He was right, both he and I knew. But saying one thing was very different from doing it. He would leave me on that note, however, off to see Bat platoon's lieutenant and try to get things sorted however much he could.

I, however, would finally find the exit of our trench line on a side street that led off of Jiāyuán, and so set my heading west, towards where the 91st brigade's logistics department would be set up.

The entire brigade had moved since the Dragon's Host had been successful in reclaiming the territory lost by the 64th. What that meant for the enemy was that once again, they were encircled. They had the Fire Nation navy to the North and East, and the army to the South and West. What that meant for us however was that we were stretched thin, essentially trying to cover 2 divisions' worth of territory with one.

It was far from an optimal arrangement, but one could hardly say that there were any other options, especially ones that wouldn't allow the enemy to bypass our siege and restore their stocks after we'd done a damn fine job of trying to starve them for the last year.

That was the one positive thing about being the besiegers, I noted. While some many things were the same on our side as theirs, remaining trapped, under constant threat of attack, barraged by artillery, etc., the one thing that really stood as the difference between us was the passage of supplies.

While I could hardly make the claim that the supply train between us and core Fire Nation territory was the quickest and most efficiency, the fact of the matter was that we rarely needed to wait more than a month to receive what was needed, be it from the homeland itself, or its proxy colonies. Food, supplies, weapons, if we asked for it, and it was approved, it would get here.

As such, to approach our logistics unit and ask for food now, it was an entirely different game from having to negotiate with Ladle for an extra spoonful of street stew. Even the second in command of the Hornets as I was, Ladle's kitchen was his temple and anything beyond complimenting his cooking was an insult. And an insult to the master of a temple was an insult to the spirits himself.

Fire Nation logisticians would try to give that same impression, but the indisputable truth was that between Ladle and one of them, be it Zurom, Tokai, or any other, I most gladly would have picked a fight with one of the latter rather than a Citadel slum cook where food was a matter of life and death.

It was that boldness granted to me that would allow me to actually put up an argument with Zurom when, of course, he immediately denied my request for the 114th Company to come in early to get their evening provisions.

"All I'm saying is that it makes more sense for those who have night duty to eat later and those who don't to go first. Later ones can have a full stomach while they keep watch."

I wasn't sure how effective the argument was, especially as Tokai stared me down, arms crossed, brows furrowing with nearly every word I said, but I wasn't about to stop, even if, perhaps, I should have.

"So what you're suggesting I do then is give preference to those who have it easier, get an earlier night, and don't have a full night ahead of them."

"It's not about preference," I asserted. "It's about logical assignment. A later meal to those who have night shift and they'll last a longer time. Early breakfast too, priority before the others. They get their grub and sleep through the day while the rest get theirs."

"Unit meal queue preference is an established order, lieutenant," the logistician growled.

"What I'm suggesting is that it doesn't need to be. Consult with personnel and have the two work in tandem with one another. The results will be worth it, I assure you."

"Now you're telling me how to do my job?!"

"I'm delivering helpful feedback from my own unit that I believe could be beneficial to you if you choose to lis-"

"Look, lieutenant. You're new to the brigade, so I'm going to be nice. Stay in your fucking lane, stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and remember your place. I've been working logistics for the 91st since the siege began, and if you don't think I've tried everything to make things run earlier, then-SIR!"

All at once, the man stiffened, saluting. The hell? The change was sudden, nonsensical, but it sure as hell beat the way he was addressing me earlier.

"Well that's more like it," I said, placing my hands on my hips, having believed the battle won. I should have noticed the signs earlier: the fact that Tokai was still mid-salute, the fact that he wasn't even looking at me, but I was caught up in the slightest shift of the conversation, thinking I might finally be enabled to get my way. I should've stopped, but I was riding the victory, and so like the idiot I was, continued. "Now as I was saying-"

Fortunately for him, myself, and the man behind me, I supposed, that statement would be cut off by a pronounced clearing of the throat behind me, and it occurred to me then that I wasn't alone.

I was almost afraid to turn as whoever it was, they held rank over the logistician. And that could mean only two things, and neither one reflected rather well on me. And so I turned, slowly, hesitantly, awaiting the unveiling of whether it was Lu Ten behind me, or his father, the Dragon of the West himself.

To my fortune, however, or at least, to my delayed misfortune, it was the former, Lu Ten, speaking now to Tokai as he asked with a smirk on his face, "Is this man bothering you?"

"Lieutenant of the 114th here is trying to argue that his company should get their meal before all the others."

Lu Ten's smile only grew at that blatantly exaggerative statement. "Is that right, lieutenant?"

"It's-," I stammered, all confidence I had suddenly now put to question when face to face with the colonel himself. "It's not just that," I finally managed to say. "I was…proposing, perhaps, a new way of distributing meals. One tied more to…troop allocation."

"Oh?" Lu Ten said, crossing his arms. "Elaborate."

Fuck me, I thought to myself. This was far from a desirable position to be in, arguing my case to a real audience now rather than just trying to find an excuse to move my troops up the queue.

"Well," I said. "My thought was that we tie meal distribution to troop stations. For instance, companies with a night shift should eat earlier, I mean, later, so that they can have a full stomach to last through the night, but, of course, get breakfast earlier too so they can sleep on one. It's…I'm explaining it poorly, but-"

"No no. You make a point. Tell you what. I'll consult with personnel, and if they agree with your suggestion, we'll see what we can do. That work with you, Tokai?"

I turned back to look at the logistician who wore a smug smile and said confidently, "I can work with that."

"Good," Lu Ten said. "Now be a dear and get the 114th an early spot in the queue today. Reward for all his hard thinking."

There was no mistaking that the comment was a sarcastic one. At least that pertaining to 'hard thinking.' Because Tokai's expression in response to the early queue order was in fact one of annoyance, and nothing was feigned about it.

"Fine," Tokai said. "Whatever you say, sir." Another salute, this one far more casual, but as far as Lu Ten was concerned, still passing.

"That's the spirit," Lu Ten said with a smile.

So…did that actually just work? Somehow?

Lu Ten turned towards me now to say, "Come on. Get out of here before he changes his mind just by looking at you." He placed a hand on my shoulder, now steering me away, back towards my company's own position back east. He let go once our path was set, saying nothing.

The silence grew with each second to the point that it seemed half of an entire minute had passed, leaving ample opportunity for me to finally say, "Thanks, colonel. Appreciate the help there."

"Well don't expect it to be a recurring thing. I'm not here for long, and besides, even I'm a bit wary of crossing Tokai."

That raised another question, however.

"So what are you doing here then?" I asked.

"Aside from saving you from Tokai?" Lu Ten asked. "Well, I was on the way to your battalion as a matter of fact. Got some news to share."

"News?" I asked. What kind of news? Obviously, from the way I'd asked it, it was clear I was looking for greater explanation.

"Oh so you don't want to wait to hear with all the others?"

"I didn't need to answer for Lu Ten to know that I wasn't one much for waiting. Was anyone, really?

Lu Ten chuckled. "Fine then. New orders from command. Stuff I can only really share with your captain, but, I can tell you that you'll be having some new men coming in soon."

"New men?" I asked.

"Replacements. Greenies from the mainland and colonies to refill your ranks. Spirits know we got hit hard. We need everyone we can get to replace them, but I assure you, they're well-trained."

"Replacements," I echoed.

I'd never thought about it, in truth, but it only made sense. The 114th needed new men, especially after everything, but something about it…it felt wrong. I'd seen it happen to no shortage of other battalions and units around us, having new men come in to replace the fallen, but at no time had I ever considered the fact that with our casualties, we would suffer a similar fate.

It didn't feel right. I wondered just why it didn't: if it had something to do with the fact that they weren't slumkids like the rest of us, or the fact that, simply, they weren't us. They weren't Mykezia, they weren't Mahung. They were names I hadn't yet learned. Names I didn't know if I could bring myself to learn when it came to it.

"So that's it then? I lose my people, and just like that, in less than a month, you have new people already coming in to replace them? Just like that."

"We need more people to come in," Lu Ten said matter-of-factly, as though it was really as simple as that. "Without them, we won't have the numbers to take this city, end this damned war."

I knew he was right. I'd have to have been an idiot not to see that, but where logically, I could come to certain fundamental truthful rationalization, I could not say the same emotionally. Instead, I couldn't say anything, just walking alongside the colonel in silence.

Lu Ten eventually would be the one to break the silence, and so would sigh before saying, "I'm sorry about your men, Danev. I know that…you lost a lot of people close to you. I'm sorry things happened the way they did."

"Don't be," I said. "It's not like it's your fault." That responsibility fell to the man who saw her get cut down alongside a half dozen others, to the man who could have done things differently, stationed his men some other way, given different orders.

"So why do you insist on believing it's yours, then?" he asked.

"Because it was me who gave them their orders for the attack. It was me who was responsible for the platoon."

"And me who was responsible for your entire battalion," Rulaan countered. "Including your company, your platoon, Dragon, and all others."

I scoffed, and turned to face him. "So you rather I blame you then?" I didn't mean it, of course. Rulaan was capable of seeing that much and so took no offense, offering a smile of his own.

"Maybe," he said. "Or blame Shazo, or my father, or hell, my grandfather who got this war kicked off in the first place. You get nowhere by spending time trying to find out who's responsible for what. Leave that for the historians a hundred years from now.

If we're not still fighting this war then, I thought to myself. I appreciated Lu Ten for what he was trying to do, framing things as the objective reality that it was. This was a war. In war, you lost people. I needed that rationality now. Hell, it was the reason I'd denied Rulaan's company, as he was in the same state as me. That didn't mean, however, that I wasn't. There was no easy way to break out of it, not when I'd lost people I cared about, people I'd spent my time imagining a world with after this war was over–a reality that no longer was possible, gone to all time like tears in the rain.

I wasn't sure whether or not to say anything about this all, or instead to hold my tongue. There was something about the colonel however that I couldn't put my finger on, and so whether I meant to or not, I found myself speaking, answering his questioning look. "I know," I said, " that, as their commander, all men I lose should hit me the same, but, even then, it feels worse for some than others. Is that wrong?"

"You're human," Lu Ten said.

"Never denied that," I scoffed.

Lu Ten returned the chuckle, but soon enough, was back to his honest answer. "You can't pretend that, when you feel a certain way, you simply don't. That gets you nowhere, but at the same time, you need to separate who you are as a person, and who you are as a commander. As a person, feel what you need to feel. Mourn, grieve, cry if you have to; there's no judgements here; we've all seen more than any of us should have. But you're their commander too. No life can mean more than any other, not even your own. You made hard decisions out there, and no doubt you regret them now, but you did what you had to, and you'll do it again when the time comes for you to do so again. You'll do whatever you can to finish your objective while also saving your men. Sometimes you'll succeed, but others, well, you can't always save everyone."

"I know that," I said.

"I know you do. You're a natural leader, you know?"

"I started early," I said.

"So I've heard. Read your file."

"I have a file?"

"Not a long one. Still, enough."

"Mind telling me what it says?"

"Only that you've seen more at your age than anyone should in a lifetime. Spirits, sometimes I forget how old you guys are. You shouldn't be out of school at your age, but still you're here, fighting a war."

"What other choice was there?"

"None. Lu Ten answered. Not for you at least. You inherited the war waged by a generation that's long dead now, and it's why we need to finish it. So those who come after us don't have to. So my family doesn't have to."

His family? Clearly he wasn't speaking about his father, but who then? "You have siblings?" I asked. I could have sworn he was a single child.

"No," Lu Ten chuckled. "Cousins though. A good bit younger than you, but still old enough that they'll be fighting this same war soon if we don't finish it."

How many prior generations had told themselves that same thing, I wondered. How many old men who'd seen hell and returned had hung up their uniform only for their sons to try it on for size before enlisting the next moment, winding up in a hole in the ground both in life as in death. I wouldn't say any of that of course. Not to Lun Ten. Not like this, at least, with family on the line for him.

Instead, I'd only say, "I didn't know you had cousins."

Lu Ten smiled. "Well, with my father only having the one, I guess my uncle thought having a couple of backups in case of my 'unfortunate demise' was a good idea."

I chuckled at that. There was no denying that the crown prince and heir alongside his son serving on the same front wasn't all too great in terms of a royal succession inheritance, but who was I to make any judgements?

"I would tell you more about 'em," Lu Ten said, referring back to his cousins, but seems we're out of time."

Sure enough, we had arrived to the 114th's trench line, now night. We ducked inside to find more commotion than there had been when I had left. My stomach immediately sank just at the notion of another fight having broken out, especially as close to Dragon Platoon's position as we were now. The last thing I needed now was Ele at the forefront of another confrontation.

Still, Lu Ten and I pushed forward towards the noise until a man nearer the edge of the crowd, one Sho, a good lad, turned on a heel upon me calling my name, and upon seeing the colonel by my side, instantly saluted, shouting, "Sir!"

"At ease," the colonel said.

Sho dropped the salute in time for me to ask, "What's going on, private?"

"We picked up a stray!" the boy proudly declared. "Think you're gonna want to see."

Lu Ten turned to look at me, a confused expression on his face as though waiting for me to elaborate on what that meant. I had no such answer for him, and so could only shrug and motion him to go ahead, first before me to see whatever indeed was going on.

The crowd wasn't a large one, only a few scattered men from Dragon, and so it hardly was much of a task to break through, especially with Lu Ten at the head, one soldier after another stiffening into a perfect salute to let us past, including even the boy who seemed the forefront of the platoon's attention.

There he was, I saw him now, tall and saluting where he was in Dragon Platoon's barracks, facing Lu Ten, though his eyes slowly drifting towards me.

Fluke.

He smiled, the recognition and understanding of the situation now mutual. "Hey, Danev," he said. "Miss me?"

Long Feng

I wasn't a pessimist. Pessimism had its uses, of course, at least when it came to preparing for every possible outcome, but oftentimes, it shrouded reality, clouded judgment, saw resources and planning wasted on even the most outlandish worst-case-scenario.

I hadn't considered General Hondu going back on his word to be a fiction created only by my pessimism and bias towards the man. I'd seen it as an inevitably more than anything, having made every contingency I knew of to prepare for the fact that he may not hand over the prisoners, that he may seek to enact some form of martial law justice, make a name for himself, for his authority, for his control, or at the very minimum, keep the prisoners to himself for his own department to interrogate and glean intelligence from.

Instead, however, none of those things had happened. Instead, early Monday morning, the Earth Kingdom military police had raided three separate locations, and taken five high priority targets. Instead, General Hondu had arrived perfectly on time for the desired prisoner swap, and so had handed them over without incident, without complaint.

My truthseers had spent an hour on each man, seeing if they had already been question, if they truly were who Hondu claimed they were, if any manner of deceit had been committed against us.

But it hadn't.

General Hondu had kept his word, and already, that was the highlight of the day in terms of impossibilities, meaning that, finally, I could do my job, and do it right.

The total count of captives that'd been seized came to 5, a good number, plentiful enough to ensure a variety of information, though sparse enough that we could keep them properly isolated from one another in the depths of Lake Laogai.

And best of all, I had my choice of interrogation to observe.

I suspected that the agitator and local hero, Shemao and Pamon respectively, would be easy enough to break. It was somebody else I wanted to observe–an official of the Earth King himself, or I supposed, former official of the Earth King after today, Chang Pusuwan, the magistrate of the Summer District, and in consideration of his recent activities, a traitor.

I wondered if the man had managed to figure out where he was. The last thing the man could properly remember most likely was having the door of his office kicked down followed by an armed contingent of Earth Kingdom soldiers barging in to take him into custody.

General Hondu had not taken any chances. The magistrate, as were most people in positions of power and wealth, was a bender. Accordingly, Hondu had come with his own benders, and a hell of a lot more too, certainly more than the magistrate's meager personal guard, well-trained though they were.

They'd been taken into custody as well, just as a precaution.

The entire process had been one precaution after another: a public arrest to ensure any attempt to escape was met with fugitive status and full consequence thereof, an armed transport to the inner ring accompanied by a sedative to put the man to sleep, and from there, a transport detail via iron cage and carriage to the outer ring, at which point he'd been thrown into a cell of his own, far enough separated from his fellow detainees that there would be no such knowledge even about the existence of the others.

They were isolated in every sense of the word, alone but for a soundproofed iron room, steel door, and the echo of their own voices as they screamed for answers and help. They would get none. Even if their voices could escape the room, they would get no answer nor any help at all. They were on my turf, and they weren't leaving until it was my decision to let them leave.

And they would have to wait. I gave Captain Heli and our truthseer, Lanuo, the time they would need to go through their first batch of captives while I'd allowed myself to catch up on sleep.

It was approximately three hours after midday I returned, able to swear that I could actually make out the magistrate's screams from beyond his room's steel door.

"Been at that for four hours," Captain Heli from where he stood beside me in front of the magistrate's cell.

"I thought these rooms were soundproof," I said.

"They should be," the captain responded. "He's persistent though."

That he is.

"Manage to get anything of much use from the others?" I asked.

"I'm putting together a report for you," Heli answered.

"A brief summary then, if you would," I responded, curious for whatever may have been acquired.

The captain nodded. "We confirmed that recent anti-royal activities in the outer ring have indeed been coordinated. Meetings between major players are common and recurring on a scheduled basis, none of which likely matters anymore."

"Likely not, no."

If there was a schedule with other parties, then that was out the window considering the fact that we'd just arrested a good fraction of their members. There would be adjustments. Nothing our captives would be aware of, obviously, and so the point was moot.

"What more?" I asked.

"We confirmed that Magistrate Pusuwan is indeed guilty of assisting in partisan activities, having offered the Summer District as a support base for other malcontents. They provide supplies, safe lodging, political support-"

"Manpower?" I asked.

"Uncertain," Captain Heli responded. An unfortunate thing not to know. Already, the mayor was beyond the line of treason regarding offering support to dissidents. Were he committing men as well to the cause, however, well, backroom support to a public revolt could very quickly become categorized as rebellion. I was praying such wasn't the case. Our job was to stop a rebellion before it happened. Not to allow one to form right beneath our noses.

"Is that all?" I asked.

"From our first sessions," the captain responded, "Yes. More time, however, and I believe we can get more out of them."

"No need for now. We have proper leads. Let's see what the magistrate has to say. Is Lanuo ready?"

"He is, sir. I can fetch him now."

"Do that, but do me a favor, captain. Instruct him to arrive in Dai Li uniform. I want him looking like nothing more than a guard."

"Reason being?"

"The magistrate has likely gathered by now who has him in custody. If he's smart, he'll be able to identify our truthsayer, and say just enough to not tell a lie while not giving us the truth either. If he thinks we're not monitoring such things, then a well-placed lie we know about can tell us far more than a half-truth."

The captain smiled, clearly approving. "Very good, minister. I'll fetch him now."

And so I myself would wait there for the next few minutes, observing in disbelief as the magistrate's cries for help somehow managed to bypass ten centimeter thick iron walls. I could hardly make out any words, of course, only able to tell through the muffled nature of his yells that he was in fact still screaming from the other side. One could very easily make the assumption that he was being subjected to constant torture over the last many hours, but such wasn't the Dai Li's way.

Torture was inefficient, more likely to produce a desperate lie than an honest truth. It lead nowhere, accomplished nothing, and more often than not set an investigation behind more than it pushed it ahead. We had better means, accurate, and reliable means, and here he was.

Lanuo was Dai Li, but not within the same rank structures as other agents, more similar to Joo Dee than one such as Captain Heli. Well, not in all ways, perhaps, but the fact remained that he worked for me, and would be the one to make a difference in how much of a success or failure today would be.

"So I take it that the reason I'm dressed this way," he said, raising the dark olive sleeves of his uniform that fit poorly on his slim body, "is all part of your grand plan, Minister?"

"Something to that effect," I answered as Captain Heli returned to my side, ready to begin. "I'm going to ask you to keep tabs on every lie spoken by the magistrate. Do not let him know who you are. Allow him to lie if that is what he does. Am I understood?"

The truthseer nodded, and so I turned to Captain Heli to add, "I will be conducting this interrogation and ask you to wait in reserve for if you are needed."

"Of course, Minister," the captain nodded. And so the mutual affirmation held by all present meant that there was little left to do. We were ready to begin.

If the magistrate had been screaming for his life before, then at the first sight of movement from the doorknob to his one way in and one way out, he returned to complete and total silence, saying nothing, but only watching, waiting to see just who would come through that door.

He would see soon enough as Captain Heli and Lanuo entered, and I followed in after. The magistrate recognized me, of course. It would have been near impossible not to especially as I made no effort to disguise myself. By merit of the fact that the man was in custody in the first place, he could very easily have come to the conclusion that his activities were known. It made no difference if he was in army or Dai Li custody to him. He was screwed all the same, and he had no defense. I was in full legal jurisdiction. Still, in spite of this, he would still try to put up a fight, foolish and hopeless though it was.

"Long Feng!" he shouted from his chair at the far end of the wall where he'd been bound and tied for the last many hours, poor man. "What is the meaning of this!? Why are you holding me!? This is an outrage! The Earth Kingdom will hear of this!"

"Yes, magistrate," I said, taking a seat at my own chair across the table from him as my two companions took their positions beside the doorway out only after closing it. "He will. As soon as we're done speaking today, I will compile a report on all that we talked about that will be for the Earth King's eyes only."

It would likely take some more time than that, and it hardly would be for his alone. Granted, it may indeed be a single part of a larger report, but the essence of what I said remained factual enough.

Magistrate Pusuwan's eyes darted around the room, settling on Captain Heli for a few seconds, on Lanuo a few more, and then back on me. I knew precisely what he was searching for. And he hadn't found him. At least, he didn't believe he'd found him. As far as he knew, there was no truthseer here, but all the same, he was in our custody, and so the fear was still most certainly there. I needed to change that. I needed him bold.

"A report on what?!" he shouted. "Your thugs hardly explained anything to me as they barged into my office without warning! Where are my guards! I demand my personnel now to ensure safe conduct. And where the hell was your warrant when you came to arrest me?!"

"Your personnel are being put to better use than serving you," I said. That much, at least, was correct. Hondu's military forces had hardly paid the small detachment of a half dozen earthbenders any mind, but I had a purpose for them. Whether that purpose was keeping them away from their employer or perhaps serving something and someone greater, time would tell. For the moment, however, they were safe, a few stories beneath us in this very facility in fact, being made to see the error of their ways. "As for your warrant, all lower districts, including Summer, are under martial law as I'm sure you are aware. The military does not require a warrant to make arrests when there is plausible suspicion."

"Plausible suspicion!?" the magistrate shouted. "Suspicion of what?!"

"You tell us, governor," I said. "It's why we've brought you in. We want answers."

"So you've brought me in then! Without any charges whatsoever?!"

The subtle shift in his eyes, one of outright fear to now veiled confidence would have been apparent to very few people, but I was one of those. They were the same eyes he would wear before reading out flavorful recounts of his success in managing the summer district during formal functions, before insisting on a toast to the city's health and the glory of the King. They were the eyes he wore when he believed the room was his, and I welcomed that here. I wanted him to believe himself in control, but not too much. Too much, and he would suspect something was amiss. It was a tight balance I needed to walk, and so I would.

"Not quite, magistrate," I said. "You've been charged with abetting known Earth Kingdom dissidents within the lower districts, deliberately hindering the martial law mandate, and fomenting rebellion."

"Fomenting Re-? What proof is there of this?!"

"We've detained a number of your accomplices as well. Meshao, Pamon, among others. They implicate your role in support anti-Royal activity in the lower districts, offering the Summer district as a support base from where they may organize, rally, plan, and prepare."

"Lies! Listen to yourself! I've always been a loyal servant of the Earth King! When have I ever given reason for doubt before!?"

It was true, in a manner of speaking at least. Magistrate Pusuwan had always been sure that his voice was among the loudest and most passionate whenever there was cause to do so, be it at the smallest cross-district gatherings to the most flamboyantly excessive galas held in the royal palace. His self-proclaimed love for the Earth King had always been a talking point of his, but only so far as he stood to benefit. With the Fire Nation siege, that balance had shifted. It was no secret that the lower districts were being sidelined. Just as those living there were being given less food, afforded less of an opportunity, so too were the royal officials representing such districts being cast aside as well. While they were far from starving, there were less resources for them to skim off the top coming in, less chance to advance given the frozen state of our administration, less renown, less glory, just…less. But to cast his lot in with those shouting for change, a change he could seize upon, that was never out of the picture for a man such as him, and both he and I knew it.

"So you suggest these individuals are lying then? What reason would they have to do so?"

"They want a scapegoat!" the magistrate shouted. "Somebody to put the blame on, to save themselves!"

"We have more than simple testimonies," I said. "It's no secret that inbound food shipments from the outer ring see a significant loss of stock when passing through the Summer district."

"That's the case with every outer district! You need to appease the crowd, bride guards, disperse crowds! It's standard operating procedure!"

"Yet my agents tell me that there never are any such protests, crowds, demands for food from your passing caravans, yet somehow, caravans passing through your district always arrive to the inner districts with far smaller a portion of their original supply than any other caravan."

"What do you mean?"

Did he really need me to spell it out for him?

"You are deliberately hindering royal supply mandates in order to feed valuable resources to Earth Kingdom dissidents. Do you deny this claim?"

"Of course I deny-"

"We have witnesses, testimonies, and agent confirmation of your activities. Don't attempt to deny these charges. So repeat again, have you, or have you not been assisting local dissidents by interfering with Royal law?"

The magistrate's face hardened. "You seem to already have your answer, don't you? Fine then. You Dai Li always were careful with your numbers. I diverted supplies away from the inner ring. And who can blame you? King's running us dry like this. He's only asking for a revolt. You want to know why the Summer district's getting less revolts than the others? Because of me! I get them what they need, what's required for them to sustain themselves, and oh so surprisingly, unrest decreases. Who would've thought, huh?"

"Don't act as though your interests are those of our Majesty," I said. "Your activities go beyond supporting your district's population. You are actively providing material support to dissidents in other districts as well, are you not?"

"Damnit, fine! I am! They offer pay, and so I agree to sell to them. About the only trade that goes on in the lower districts these days, so can you blame me?!"

I could, as a matter of fact. I could blame him for a great many things more too, and so I would press him. Press him as far as I could.

"And have you been granting safe refuge to dissidents out of the sign of Royal forces?" I knew he did. He knew that I knew that much too, and so he wouldn't try to deny it.

"I don't discriminate against those who enter into the Summer district, no!"

"Did you knowingly and deliberately abet hostile entities within your territory?" Once again, a fact we both were well aware of.

"I sheltered those I knew were wanted for questioning, yes!"

"Did you supply material aid to said dissidents?" Once again, the same.

"I provided them with food, water, relief supplies, yes."

"And weapons?" I pressed.

"No. I didn't!"

I didn't quite believe him on that point, and even now, he seemed to be standing his ground, believing he could get away with lying now. So far his charges were minimal, nothing that would set him all too far back. But arming a rebellion, that was the beginning of true treason, and so he would naturally deny it.

"Did you assist dissident figures in planning actions contrary to the King's interests?"

"I helped in organizing nonviolent protests. Nothing more than that! I never helped in planning any form of insurrection activities!" A wise strategy of his. Confess to the small, deny the large. It was more believable than denying everything outright, but still, it wouldn't hold. Not with Lanuo present. Then again, I supposed it was worth considering that things hadn't gone that far. Time would tell.

"Did you actively commit your men towards dissident activity?!"

"Did I commit-No! I already told you! I wasn't helping them that way! Nothing close! I wasn't trying to provoke a war, alright! Nothing like that!" Frankly, I could believe that. Judging by his disposition now, the man hardly had the spine for such a thing, but still, it was important to cover all bases, and I wasn't done. Not yet.

"Have you actively been conspiring against the Earth kingdom in fomenting armed rebellion within the city of Ba Sing Se?!"

"No! Nothing like that! I swear to you, to the spirits, to our King that I would never try anything of that sort! I swear to you, Long Feng! You know this!" And amidst his tearful protests, I did know that, but I had a job to do. And by the looks of it, I had done just that. He was as close to wetting himself as a grown man could get, and so it appeared to me that we were done for today. That had done the trick.

"Very well," I said, backing off. "We're finished here for now."

The magistrate looked up at me, eyes wide, terrified, though also relieved. If he'd been confident before, that was gone now. He'd seen how far the questioning had gone, and hopefully what confidence he had indeed possessed before would have been just enough to catch him in a lie or two. Frankly, however, I believed we already had the majority of what was needed from him.

Thankfully, he would not resume his yelling once I had left his cell alongside Heli and Lanuo, leaving him there instead in petrified silence, all the better for his sanity as well as ours.

"Well," Captain Heli said through a sigh as soon as the cell door was shut and locked behind the three of us. "I'd say that was productive. Certainly more than the others."

"That remains to be seen," I said, stopping my captain before he could get ahead of himself.

I turned to our truthsayer. "Lanuo," I said, catching his attention. "What of it then? Catch anything?"

Lanuo was hesitant to look up at me, as though lost in his thoughts. When he finally did, however, there was an unmistakable look of concern plastered onto his face.

"He's lying," he said.

I knew it. I was proud of myself for catching it when I did. It was just a matter of how far? The military aid? The planning? Certainly not the latter two objects, of course, but I had to know what in particular had been the lie.

"About what?" I asked.

And now, Lanuo's eyes met mine, and I realized then that the answer I was going to get was far from the one any of us wanted to hear.

"Everything."