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.

40. Old Friends

Long Feng

"Absolutely unacceptable!" cried out Yun-Lee of the house Pak in answer to my suggestions. "The Spring Festival is a cornerstone of our culture, celebrated in our city for thousands of years, and you would suggest canceling it?!"

"Magistrate Yun-Lee, please," Grand Secretariat Honang spoke up, seemingly to my defense. "Allow Cultural Minister Long Feng to finish."

A thinly-veiled attempt to demonstrate impartiality, I knew. If the Grand Secretariat's views of me hadn't been clear before, then certainly after the Battle of the Outer Wall, they had been. It was me who had undermined his attempts to repurpose the army for domestic defense and royal security, me who had snuck all remains of the Earth Kingdom's Army to the frontline, and as far as he was concerned, me who may very well have secured the Earth Kingdom's fall.

But it was that, or let him do it first.

Still, I appreciated him allowing me the moment to speak, and had no reason to believe that, regardless of his private disdain of me, he would oppose my suggestions to indefinitely hold the Spring Festival celebrations.

"Thank you," I said, nodding towards the Grand Secretariat. "As I'm sure we all fondly remember, the Spring Festival is indeed a cornerstone of the Earth Kingdom's culture, marking a day by which we can celebrate the passing of another winter followed only by our continued prosperity and unity. While I can make no claims against the symbolic importance of such festivities, I ask that we put aside sentimentality and focus instead on the cold, hard truths with which we are presented–we do not have the resources, we do not have the food.

"What of our northern sea passage?" Xingke of House Ri, Magistrate of the Upper City's Dongcheng District asked. "I was under the impression that the Fire Navy had reduced their forces sufficient for our blockade runners to bring in food and supplies."

"They had," I said, "But only for a time, and not in sufficient enough quantity for us to bring in enough to sustain ourselves, simply to improve our stockpiles to last us a few days more, perhaps weeks at best with stricter rationing."

That sent a good chorus of grumbles through the audience seated in attendance of the council meeting: lesser landholders and politicians who still believed their presence here more important than the stability of the territory they represented. If there was one term they hated the sound of, it was 'stricter rationing' by the connotation alone, not even by merit of the fact that they themselves would be affected, but merely on account of the reality that they would need to find some new workaround, some new official to bribe to ensure that they and their households weren't affected by these measures.

And spirits forbid they work for what they had. And I wasn't even done with the actual bad news yet.

"But regardless," I continued, "This temporary lull has concluded. We'd predicted from the start that when the Fire Navy fleet pulled out its contingent a month and a half ago, it was to ferry in new reinforcements, and recent reports point at this being true. The fleet has returned to its original position and scouts report an influx to Fire Nation numbers; we-"

"You're straying from the point, Long Feng," Honang interrupted me.

The point? I thought, suppressing a bemused scoff. The point I was trying to make was that we had bigger concerns than another wasteful spectacle. That was my point.

But regardless, I changed angles. "What I am trying to say is that it is not in our material ability to sustainably support something such as this. Our attention should be placed on ensuring the middle and upper districts do not fall into a famine as the lower districts did. As long as we still find ourselves dealing with the threat of internal revolt and external invasion, all priorities should be on sustainability and survival. Thank you."

I turned to Kuei, and bowed, him still yet to have spoken, but the final decision eventually resting on him. He was attentive, eyes wide enough and scanning the room, waiting to see who next was to speak.

He understands the gravity of the situation at least, I thought to myself as I settled back into my seat. Even with that bear beside him. Even just a cub as it was, the damned thing was offputting, perhaps more by merit of the fact that it was a gift from Honang. How the hell could I have trusted a thing like that?

"Your grace," a voice came from the lesser landholders in attendance. "If I may speak?"

"The Earth King recognizes Kwon San, Magistrate of Nanshi," Honang said.

The man stood, aged, with a face that said nothing kind about him, nor him anything kind about the rest of us. He was the magistrate of a middle city district, which at least meant his loyalties had not yet necessarily been spoken for. Curious as to what he had to say, I listened, though intrigued as to why he had chosen to speak. He was not traditionally a vocal man, rather shy as a matter of fact, hardly versed in the ways of public speaking, much less in any way that could be convincing.

Still, I listened, and he began, making his way to the front of the crowd from where he'd been previously hidden, and spoke.

"I recognize the concerns of Cultural Minister Long Feng, and understand that in times of scarcity, we must be wise about the way we handle our limited resources. Long Feng used the words 'sustainability' and 'survival' to address what our priorities should be, but I ask all those in attendance what can possibly be more important to our nation right now than unity? Already, the lower districts have risen in revolt and we are now locked in a civil struggle with our own citizens, and growing dissent among the middle class points towards a grim future we may soon face if nothing is done. The Spring Festival, a great affair as it is, is not, as Long Feng put it, a 'wasteful spectacle,' but rather, if you were to ask me, a critical investment. Right now, it is essential that all citizens of the Earth Kingdom, of Ba Sing Se, feel unified behind a shared cause–that of our capital's prosperity. Our city is more than walls and armies. It is culture, it is people, and if now we begin to clamp down on that which defines us, how can we make the claim that we do so to save Ba Sing Se if we risk losing who we are as people in the process. It's not what I want, it's not what I believe any of us in attendance want, and I know it's not what my son would have wanted if he was still with me here today. Thank you."

There was a silence after that, one that lasted quite a good deal of time as a matter of fact. A good deal of it seemed to be on account of the fact that this man, known for his seclusion and diplomatic affairs through the proxies of others, had made such a statement as well-versed as this. As was I for that matter, enough so to a point that I recognized immediately what it was.

So while the silence slowly grew into an astonished applause and San returned to his place in the crowd as quietly as he had exited from it, I focused on one thing alone–whose words he had spoken, trying to ignore the effect they had earned, but that was impossible. Patriotic sentiment, community appeal, all senseless drivel, but that which people loved to hear.

The King included among those, it seemed. He wasn't quite on the edge of his seat, waiting for the next word to be spoken, but he was paying attention, more than could usually be said.

Now of all times, I thought with a grimace.

"Your grace," Honang spoke up. "We can continue to hear more perspective if-"

"That will not be necessary," Kuei spoke, the first time his voice had been heard throughout all of the day's affairs, hours of arguing, flattery, and debate all about to be determined with a single royal decree. "I have reached a decision."

Shortly after the king's decision had courtiers and the magistrates of the different districts began to flock back to from whence they came, especially seeing as how Kuei had returned to his quarters and so there was no need nor means to make oneself known to him.

So instead, regents, magistrates, and nobles all conducted their little choreographed dance that would take them away from the throne room to spirits' knew where, all eagerly chittering like racoon foxes about what outfits they would prepare for the Spring festival I had failed to prevent, while I, instead, searched for the man who'd made it possible.

"I suppose ordinarily I ought to congratulate you," I started, now having finally found Grand Secretariat Honang in the emptying royal chamber. I'd considered if confronting him was the right thing to do, but as I yet was unsure whether this truly was his handiwork, there was no harm in a probing attack, prodding him for weakness, seeing how he responded. "But given the circumstances, I fail to see how anyone, even you, benefits from this."

That was a lie. Between a foolish effort to reign in the middle class, a desire to have me waste my Dai Li and my time on security and celebratory logistics respectively, and simply put, attempting to make me look bad by presenting himself as more a paragon of Earth Kingdom traditions than the Cultural Minister himself, there were plenty of ways he stood to benefit.

"Long Feng," he addressed me. "As upset about the results of today as I am, it seems."

"Are you?" I smiled. "I wasn't aware that it was in your lap all matters of logistics regarding logistics for the Spring Festival were falling."

He smiled in return. "They're not, and though much as I love watching you struggle, even I have my limits, and seeing as many resources about to be wasted on this as they are, I can hardly yield any enjoyment from this."

What I would have given to have him seated in front of my truthsayer Lanuo, right now. He spoke well enough, sufficient to make me even doubt my own suspicions, but the man was in his position for a reason, and short of damn near every other courtier in this dwindling kingdom, Honing stood above them as the most likely to have stirred this pot in the first place.

"You were quick to endorse the king's decision."

"As was everyone else in the room, I recall. You know well as I that once his decision is made, it does no good to question it."

In front of open doors, perhaps not, but I never knew Honang as one to let sleeping birds lie unless he stood to benefit from their slumber.

"Then speak to him" I offered him the chance, not that he wouldn't have thought of it already had he any desire to do so. "You have his ear; you know the folly in this as I do. Do something about it."

"I can try," he said.

But he won't.

I didn't need him to; he'd neglect it entirely and simply have a letter sent to my office tomorrow stating he did all he could, but it was to no avail. The King's mind had been set. It matter not. I'd gotten what I came for. I knew enough to reason that Honang, if not responsible, was at the very least a beneficiary of what'd happened.

"And should you fail-"

"Then I'm afraid you'll have a full plate on your hands."

Not just mine.

"You are aware that the realm, simply put, does not have the food or money for this."

"As you've made abundantly clear, but should worse come to worst, you're the cultural minister; you'll find a way."

'Finding a way' was precisely what I'd been trying to do before you involved yourself.

There was no point speaking it, no point complaining. I'd worked myself and my Kingdom out of worse things before, and I would do so again. Such was my resolution as Honang walked off to go about whatever it was he had in mind for the rest of the day, my attention now placed on a hundred other matters than him.

For now.

I was lucky enough that I wasn't alone in all of this. Had that been the case, I doubt I, much less Ba Sing Se, would have made it to the second month of this siege. Every day she became more of an asset, and every day I found myself wondering just what I'd do without her. And that was a problem.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up," Jo Dee said from behind her desk, smiling up at me.

She looked good. Of course she did; she always looked good, and I was positive she'd continue to look good even when she started to show.

With her husband's child, I had to remind myself.

"Had matters to attend to," I said. "Cleanup after the disaster that was today."

"Mmm, I'd heard. "Though you have to admit; it was a good speech."

"Exactly why I know there was somebody else pulling the strings," I answered, taking a seat on one of the chairs that sat in front of her desk, usually reserved for those waiting to see me, though now often visited by me myself just to give me somewhere to set myself down as I found any excuse I could to talk with Joo-Dee. Not that such opportunities were hard to come by given the current state of affairs.

"You have an idea who?" She asked. "Honang, maybe?"

"That's my best guess, but I can't figure out as to why. Operating from the shadows as he is, he knows he'll get none of the credit from King or populace alike by seeing this thing through in my stead."

"Then it's likely just his way of distracting your attention."

"Likely," I agreed. "But he has hundreds of ways of doing so that don't involve wasting the last of the King's coffers and goodwill on this frivolous expenditure."

"So…"

"So for now I play his game until I figure out what he stands to gain from it, and what I and this city stand to lose."

"Well, from what you've told me, Ba Sing Se stands to lose a great deal if the situation is as you've said. If this celebration really would put our people at risk of starvation, I'm sure in the long run, it would be understood."

"If they don't understand now," I said. "When will they? The risk of this frivolous ceremony is only a symptom of a larger cancer–I do not believe this city, even with the strictest of rationing we impose, can sustain itself any longer."

And if the severity hadn't dawned on Joo Dee before, it certainly had by now. It wasn't often her first suggestion was that of the Dai Li, but now, that changed. "I can arrange a meeting with Heli if you'd like," Joo Dee offered.

But it was too early for that. For now, at least, it was.

"No," I said. "I'll need to speak with Qun. It's bad enough he wasn't present today, but one should get the treasurer's take on this before we act too rashly."

"I can try and arrange a meeting with him, but you know he hasn't been right for a few months now?"

I knew all too well. I'd been resenting him for it all throughout today, his fault or otherwise.

"I know," I confirmed. "Just reach his desk and let them know I'll be stopping by this evening. Say it's important."

"Of course," she nodded.

I nodded back, and with that, stood to make my way back to my office. It was going to be a busy evening.

Aegis

I saw its shadow strafe across the ground before I heard it, just the slightest ripple of the wind from above–an Earth Kingdom boulder hurled from a catapult opposite the river, a massive overshoot, not aimed for us, but four our own artillery that now returned the favor.

For the last month, we'd lived in the shade of artillery, the exchange of boulders, shells, and missiles the only means left of combative exchange available to us now that a river whose width spanned a quarter of a mile, any attempts from either side to gain a foothold on the other side having only resulted in more bodies to feed the fish.

And so, the 44th armored company was on the frontline once more, our task no different from what it had been just over a month ago on the perimeter of the burning forest–to catch all those who weren't where they belonged.

"You see where that one was headed?" Boss asked in regard to the passing barrage, emerging from the logistics tent with a sack of rice over his shoulder. "Anywhere near us?"

I shook my head. "Trying to zero in on our artillery, I think."

Boss scoffed. "Heh; have fun with that then."

I doubted the Earth Kingdom would. With a month of shooting at one another nonstop, sooner or later, you're bound to hit the right target, so long as the target is stationary that is.

Ours was anything but. Moving about twice a week or following any volley they delivered, our artillery took up a new spot within our riverside front line, shifting through the ranks of each battalion like a lost wolf separated from its pack looking for from where it could best howl at the moon.

We could only assume the Earth Kingdom was doing the same with theirs, elsewise I would have liked to think they'd have run out of catapults to shoot at us with long ago. So as to have less a chance of being found and meeting such a fate, our own artillery preferred to fire only under 2 conditions–when it was night, or when the enemy was firing too so as to allow the trails of our artillery to be lost amongst theirs.

We'd assumed the Earth Kingdom had adopted a similar strategy, but right now was proving otherwise.

"In the middle of the day too," Boss said with a click of his tongue. "They're getting desperate."

"Or they already plan to move theirs too," I proposed as I picked up the two buckets of water I'd set down for the moment, and prepared to walk. "Either way, going to be a fun day."

I would be right about that much. If it wasn't going to be time for our artillery to make their bi-weekly shift already, then it certainly was now. There was no way that during the hours of constant bombardment that were to come that we wouldn't have one way or another of finding out where one another was firing from.

But at the very least, none of the artillery seemed to pose a direct threat to us, the nearest an Earth Kingdom boulder struck a watchtower over a dozen yards away that happened to be abandoned at the time anyway amidst a guard change.

Even with that having been our closest touch with danger from the enemy, something about Boss had seemed distracted, pausing every now and again, looking off towards the way the enemy bombardment was headed.

Another such pause came, and I set my buckets of water down on the ground lest I force myself to bear their weight without progress and direction. It didn't take a truthsayer to know what was on his mind, and just what it was that had him concerned as he was.

"You worried about Gordez?" I asked, knowing that the 44th's mechanics, alongside those of the other armored companies, had been

Boss didn't answer right away, still looking off into the distance, but eventually did so through a shrug. "He's been through this kinda thing more than once," he finally said. "He knows how to handle himself."

"Still not a 'no,'" I said.

Boss chuckled. "Yeah, I didn't. Old habits die hard, I guess."

The discussion could have easily considered itself concluded there and we could've moved along our way, but I wasn't quite ready and willing to go back to hauling these buckets again just yet. "How you two know each other anyway?" I chose to ask, not simply by merit of wanting to stall, but also from genuine curiosity. I'd seen enough of the two in the past to know they were friends, but one being a mechanic and one a tanker wasn't quite usually the makings of a bond as close as what they had.

Another volley of Earth Kingdom boulders went flying overhead. A year ago, such a thing may have terrified me, sent me huddling for the nearest foxhole or shelter, but such was just the kind of thing that one was forced to grow used to and treat as part of their day when on the front.

It seemed Boss was calming down as well now, preferring to chat about Gordez rather than worrying sick about him, and so was facing me now as I continued, asking, "Know you were in the Navy before. Guess he was too? Knew each other from there?"

"That's 'bout it," Boss said. "Served together for a couple of years, transferred to the army when the Dragon of the West began recruiting for his campaign. Long time overdue as it was."

"Why's that?"

Boss looked at me as though ready to answer, but then, right when about to do so, stopped himself, and smiled. "You're stalling for time to avoid work, aren't you?"

"Maybe," I said, putting on a smile, hiding the horror I'd felt upon being caught and knowing there was at least another quarter of a smile between us and the Shanzi's campsite.

Boss grinned in turn, and within the minute, we were moving again, all while the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation continued to exchange fire.

The walk between the 44th armored's encampment and the 91st Brigade's logistics unit hadn't always been as much of an endeavor as it was now, but quite a good deal had changed in the last month, namely, the Dragon of the West now had far more men under his command than he had prior.

I imagined that the news of the fall of Ba Sing Se's wall had indeed swelled the patriotism of the Fire Nation people as well as strengthened Fire Lord Azulon's resolve to support his son through to the end of this campaign. As such, his numbers had been bolstered, be them by troops sent by Azulon front other theaters, veterans come out of retirement for one last glorious battle alongside the man who would end this war, and even mercenaries. Hell, there was hearsay that the Rough Rhinos were coming for a piece of Ba Sing Se soon enough, a sight to behold, I was sure, at least based on what I've heard of their reputation in the last few weeks since the rumors had begun to spread.

But either way, every few days, our camp seemed to grow larger, some new units being formed while others would simply have their forces augmented. It seemed that the 91st Brigade fell under the latter if the sight we saw now was any indication.

A Fire Nation truck passed by us, strapped to the bed it hauled behind, a river landing craft, our new solution, it seemed, to the problem whose answer had evaded us for the last month–just how the hell to get to the other side. Without losing a half-hundred men every time we tried, that is.

Behind them followed another truck, this one hauling troops rather than material, and quite a rowdy bunch at that too, cheering so as to hail their arrival while waving behind them tri-pointed, black-bordered crimson flags bearing the emblem of a curled sea raven.

"More reinforcements," I observed, wondering why the hell we hadn't just taken a book out of their book and moved our supplies with a vehicle, like the very same fucking tank we were bringing our food and water to.

"Mhm," Boss confirmed. "Marines."

"Marines?"

"Soldiers stationed on ships to provide ground support for land invasions."

"Navy then," I said, watching as a group of soldiers from the back of the truck seemed to be pointed and talking about something. And by the look of where their finger was pointed, us? "Recognize 'em?" I asked.

Boss afforded the group a brief glance as they passed by us, then simply shook his head in a silent 'no.'

But that much seemed to be deceptive as now, from the back of the truck, a pair of marines had descended, and were making their way towards us, myself just barely able to make out their distant cry of "Oh hey, Boss!"

"Well," I said, a smile growing on my face as I sensed another opportunity to set down my water buckets for a moment. "They seem to recognize you."

"Get the fuck out of here," A marine said as he approached and I set down my water buckets, a stubborn boss still hauling the rice sack over his shoulder, seemingly not yet willing to acquiesce and give in to conversation right now. "Is that our ol' cap', I see?"

"Sure fuckin' looks like it!" The other responded, now closing the gap between Boss and himself, clasping his on the shoulder. "Spirits, really is a small fuckin' world."

"Looks like it."

"Zaso," Boss said, nodding towards the first, then "Ikeem" towards the others. "You two're looking well."

"You as well, I see," the first, Zaso, said. "Back in command I take it if you have this pipsqueak going 'round hauling your supplies." He was looking at me now. "How fuckin' old are you, anyway? Can't be more than half my age."

"And still double whatever the hell you've accomplished, I bet," I retorted with a grin, something telling me such a response was what the marine was looking for.

And that it was.

The marine smiled, and laughed. "Oh, and he's got spunk too! That's Navy attitude right there! Hell are you doing letting yourself be wasted on the army?!"

"Protecting his ass as his gunner," I said, nodding towards Boss, with which I earned another laugh.

"Armored then!" Zaso exclaimed. "Should've figured you'd trade out just one ship for another. Can't teach an old dog new tricks."

I smiled at that. I like these guys.

Boss, not seeming quite nearly as amused, and rather appearing to wish to cut to the chase and get pleasantries out of the way so we could continue on our way, said, "Well, we'd love to catch up more, but we should be getting this back, so-"

"And miss out a chance to catch up after so long?" Zaso said, plucking the rice sack from Boss's shoulder and setting it over his own while Ikeem, in turn, picked up my water buckets from the ground. "You're not getting away that easily."

"Tell you what," Ikeem added, both buckets of water now having been picked up by him, ready for us to lead the way. "Brigade command's putting us to work already with a river patrol. Got some empty room onboard; what say we dust off your sea legs some and join us aboard? Your kickass gunner's invited too."

Well, so long as they're willing to carry the water back to camp for me, I thought, leaning my head to look at Boss who seemed caught somewhere between a rock and a hard place, a barely-hidden grim expression on his face, in a desperate mental search for some excuse, for some way out, but he wouldn't be quick enough.

"Ah, of course he can," Zaso said, clasping my tank commander on his now unburdened shoulder. "Sure he wants to catch up, hear 'bout all he missed in the last two years."

And Boss's fate was sealed there, the two marines having already begun in step to follow the path we'd been walking along earlier, clearly expecting us to follow and soon take the lead back to our encampment. I fell into step quick enough, turning to see Boss finally following behind me. It was odd, I would have thought for comrades in arms who'd used to serve together, the reunion would've been something a tad more…warm, but looking behind at Boss, his reception was anything but.

And I intended to find out why. This was my commander now, and I deserved to know just what had driven this invisible wedge between him and those who had once served under him, lest I soon find myself met with a similar fate.

Danev

Under any other circumstance, I don't think that I, in good conscience, could have allowed the blatant misuse of Fire Nation resources.

But then I considered the factor at play: We hadn't had any direct combat engagements with the enemy for other a month, we had an entire river between us and them, we were sitting on top of at least 2 months' worth of spare ammunition, and all of Dragon Platoon was eager to see the results of the rematch between Shozi and Asaih.

And so far, it was a match for the ages.

Asaih's matchlock fired, catching perfectly the Earth Kingdom helmet sitting stationary on the bale of hay we'd set up near the rear of the 114th's campsite, out of the way enough to ensure no danger to friendly forces, but just close enough to make sure the other platoons would be pestered by the noise of the gunfire and our chatter, the latter somehow the more distracting between the two.

A chorus of celebration went up at Asaih's bullseye hit, not only striking the helmet, but perfectly too the metal rhombus stud that ornamented the front of it, as perfect as perfect could be.

And right where Shozi had managed to hit too, the two sharpshooters having now collided bullets for the 3rd time in a row. They were evenly matched as evenly matched could get, and Dragon Company had now been brought to the point of trying to find ways to up the difficulty, to find some definitive conclusion to bring this match of marksmanship to.

But that was easier said than done.

Already we'd moved down from a regulation target to an earthbender's chest plate, then to his helmet and now specifically the front stud alone.

Asaih stepped down, and surrendered the field to Shozi, whose turn now came, stepping up with matchlock in hand

They were using their own rifle, some invisible connection existing between the marksman and his tool of choice similar to what one may find between a cavalry ostrich-horse and its rider.

I didn't question it, but only had Shozi's prior assertions to base my understanding on: that no one rifle is the same in spite of coming off of the same assembly line. That the way one treats his rifle is akin to how one may treat a woman.

When I'd asked him to elaborate on that last point, he had stopped himself short, perhaps considering on account of Ele's proximity, listening in on us, that he may have been near to making a critical mistake.

He did, however, continue in claiming that the weapon still required love and affection, a proper regiment in care, and a specific way of firing it that ensured a lack of gradual decay. By said point, he had already been talking to me about the subject for near on an hour, and so I hadn't pressed him for more elaboration, instead just looking for whatever way out I could get.

I anticipated that should he come out on top today, soon after would come a platoon-wide lecture about proper marksmanship and gun-handling–a potential future I wasn't particularly looking forward to just as little as I look forward to the bitching and moaning that may come from his defeat.

So, needless to say, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place on who to put my hopes on.

Shozi approached the line on the ground where all shooters were to stand behind and loaded his rifle. I recalled from his past tyrades that the man also preferred to steer away from using the recommended amount of blasting jelly on account of too much having a tendency to leak past the charge and begin clinging onto the bullet, slowing its acceleration out of the barrel.

I hated that I remembered all of that.

When he was done loading the jelly, charge, and shot, Shozi aimed, and Dragon platoon, in all of their professional courtesy, quieted themselves.

He told me the key was to breathe normally, to not stiffen yourself, to not act in any way that betrayed how you would normally hold yourself, normally breathe as if doing anything else. It was part luck as much as it was skill, waiting for the perfect moment to take your shot to line up with your breath right when your lungs were about half full, and then-

Shozi fired.

Another bullseye.

A cheer went up in the crowd while a few groans did as well, mixed between Asaih, his fellow newcomers if even they could be called that anymore, and those who'd bet against Shozi.

Coppers and silvers were exchanged in response to the outcome, money changing hands in a way that, to a regular Fire Nation officer would have been considered a breath in the military code of conduct, but on the front where all such rules went out the window anyway, was just part of how we passed the time.

I wasn't betting anything on this game. It was partially by merit of my previous statements of feeling stuck between a rock and its adjacent hard place, but also in that while I wasn't one to crack down on 'illicit behavior,' it did little good to actively partake.

At least, that was what Rulaan had said, and if there was any respect I had in the chain of command, it was for Rulaan.

Well, him and the Dragon of the West. And Lu Ten of course.

I wasn't about to deny the two of them that much.

Money had mostly finished exchanging hands across those present by now, and so it was Asaih's turn up at the stand.

Asaih, he was a matter in it of itself. It was no longer fair to say that he was a replacement, a greenie, or anything along those lines. He wasn't. He'd been up the wall with us, cleared the auxiliary trench with us, weathered the last month with us in a cold war against the enemy on the other side of the river.

There was hardly much of a gap now in terms of battle-handedness, but there still was the simple divide of culture. We were Taisho slum-dogs, and they were colonials.

I imagine the divides would have been a lot more prevalent had they been Islanders, but still, it wasn't uncommon for us to make mention of some Citadel-street occurrence that evaded the likes of Asaih, Demee, or the others or for them to sing some colonial ballad or folk song whose lyrics they knew like the back of their hand that may as well have been spoken in a different tongue for us Taisho-borns.

But even still, there was a new shared culture that had emerged, that of the Fire Nation military, but more importantly, that of the 114th: unorthodox, informal, but loyal to one another to a fault. And by fault, I meant creating a spirit of competition as ripe as that which I was watching now.

Asaih took the stage, rifle in hand to a chorus of cheers and jeers alike from those who had their stakes set on the match.

The smile on his face, however, told me he was taking it in good faith, however, and so I felt no inclination to intervene, at least, not in regards to the platoon's attitude. In regard to ensuring this competition was going to last us to nightfall, however-

"Alright!" I said, getting the platoon's attention. "New, and final, target! You will now be aiming for the pike at the top of the helmet!"

A 3-segmented piece at the top of the Earth Kingdom soldier's helmet, the pike was no easy target, a small, but somewhat wider cylindrical base, topped by a sphere, and at the very top, and upwards-facing pike, all totalling to a height of what couldn't have been more than-

"That's hardly even 4 inches!" Shozi exclaimed. "You kidding?!"

"Oh, now you're saying 4 inches is small?" came a voice from the crowd, likely Tosa.

The platoon laughed, I smiled, and Shozi shut up.

Asaih remained quiet, studying his new target, seemingly unperturbed by the change in target or by the cacophony of noise emitting from the crowd.

He loaded his matchlock, and as soon as the time came to take aim, all voices were silenced. They would afford the competitor, their side or theirs, that much courtesy at least.

Matchlock aimed, fuse lit, Asaih breathed in, then with a pull of a trigger, the blasting jelly ignited, and fired, a single pting all that ensued.

But when we turned to look, the sight that awaited us told a different story. In the place of a solid impact was instead a streak of paint stripped from the central sphere, Asaih's shot not that of a direct hit, but of the nearest graze.

There was silence.

Asaih hadn't missed, but nor had he hit either, leaving the way open for a conclusion after what couldn't have been less than an hour and a half of the two shooters proving their worth.

But only, of course, if Shozi could make his shot.

Asaih took the near miss with grace, stepping away from the shooting area, but a grim look on his face beneath his spectacles which he now adjusted with measured apprehension, his fate now hanging in the balance.

No money exchanged hands here, the transactions to occur following Shozi's own followup act, which could have been anything by this point, but such with a target that even Asaih had missed, there was no telling which way the wind would blow.

And Shozi seemed to understand that just as well, eyeing his target for a good two minutes before even considering loading his matchlock.

His actions slow and measured, rushing not a single action from how he readied his blasting jelly, loaded his charge, and prepared his bullet, to how long he allowed himself to be stood, matchlock raised, just waiting for that perfect moment to fire.

The crowd waiting, all thinking they would know that moment right before it came, but still taking us all by surprise when, finally, the gun went off, and a metallic clank sounded across the field.

All heads turned towards the helmet and its pike only to find it suddenly removed, Shozi's bullet having hit dead-on with such strength and accuracy that the entire damned thing had been severed from the helmet wholly.

Shozi had won.

With a breath of relief and a smile on his face, he lowered his matchlock as a crowd went up through the ranks of Dragon platoon, money changing hands while a good deal of his supporters rushed the field to take him into their arms, likely more satisfied that he had won them their money back with some return rather than the simple fact that he'd won.

Asaih took his failure with dignity, surrendering, I noticed, a few silver pieces of his own that'd been placed on himself, and shook Shozi's hands to shake it, now surrendering the title of best marksman that Asaih had stolen from him over a month.

Such was the excitement of Dragon Platoon's ranks that I'd taken no notice of Rulaan who, for an indeterminate amount of time, had been stood right next to me, only now announcing his presence with a simple question of, "So who won?"

Jumping to attention, I readied to salute before Rulaan could catch my wrist before it could be raised to my forehead and simply said, "That's not necessary. Save the formality for command."

"Command?" I asked.

He nodded. "Mhm; Brigade's calling for a company-wide war meeting."

Brigade, I thought to myself. So called by Lu Ten, but, company-wide, that shouldn't include me as I'm-

"I'm not a captain," I said.

"Lu Ten wants us bringing seconds," he said. "I don't need to tell you what that means."

No, I realized. He doesn't. If command's bringings seconds, then it's to spread orders wider, ensure continuity of leadership in case anything goes wrong, meaning that our wait is coming to an end. We're attacking soon, and it's expected to be bloody.

I stopped myself from gulping, and simply nodded at Lu Ten, the whole of our conversation between one another shrouded by the celebration that was Shozi's victory lap, one of his supporters having recovered the severed Earth Kingdom pike and now presenting it to the shooter as a trophy of sorts.

"When?" I asked.

"Now."

In contrast to our prior camps since scaling the wall, the one we occupied now had been more permanent, more out of necessity than by personal choice. A half-mile from the river, we waited with the enemy across, waiting just the same, pounding one another with artillery as we still did now, not knowing when truly the time would come for either side to act.

And it seemed that would be us, then.

A more permanent encampment as it was, the command division had been more strategically located, not set up for temporary housing only to be disassembled the following day, but rather, located near the epicenter of the brigade's site, surrounded by fortifications, watch towers, and enough trenches bringing water from the river to put out any fire that would happen to be started by a well-placed Earth Kingdom bombardment, not that one was like to reach so far.

Fire Nation officers were still filing in everywhere between lieutenant colonels and simple lieutenants such as myself, standing at the ready knowing their place here was only to be ready to assume command should their captain fall. It was a grim position to be standing in, but, I supposed, a necessary one.

As such, upon entering, the brigade command tent was expectedly cramped, Rulaan and myself just barely finding a position near the rear wall of the tent about two rows away from the center map table.

I was lucky enough for the height, or at the very least, the lack of the Fire Nation officers in front of me's height, as it allowed me to get at least some partial view of the map table and of the upper command, who, I just now noticed, was lacking their colonel's presence.

Odd to call a meeting and not be present to attend, I thought to myself.

Cocking my head towards Rullan, I asked, "Where's Lu Ten? Think he ought to be here by now, no?"

"He's coming," Rulaan assured me.

I nodded my head and chose to focus on other matters, figuring I may as well try counting the officer presence in the tent, but I lost focus as soon as I'd reached the seventh dozen. Needless to say, we were in good company.

It was in that time, however, that I noticed Lu Ten's wasn't the only absence. So too did I notice a distinct lack of Zerik, Captain of the 44th armored company, or hell, any of the armored commanders for that matter.

Late? I wondered. Or deliberately excluded?

People were still flocking into the tent, however, and so I considered the possibility that they simply hadn't arrived yet.

I would have considered giving counting a second attempt too as soon as the rest of the presently absent officers had arrived, but as soon as I'd started, the atmosphere of the command tent suddenly shifted.

"At attention for your colonel and crown prince, Lu Ten!"

And as though it was Dragon with Shozi's latest performance of marksmanship, all eyes turned instantly towards the entrance of the tent, and a hundred bodies, including my own, suddenly straightened and rose to attention as our commander, the prince apparent of the Fire Nation, entered.

The attentive forms of over a hundred officers stood between him and his position at the head of the table, but like metal shards when met with a magnet of like charge, they somehow found room in the clutter of the tent to move aside and make way for their prince's unhindered journey through the tent to his spot.

His eyes scanned over each and every one of us as he walked, some longer on others, myself even among those he made eye contact with. I wondered if he remembered me. I liked to believe so, but at this moment, he looked at us all as one and the same–servants of the Fire Nation, no different than himself, now standing at the head of his table, hands planted on it, flanked by two tricloptic Royal guards, facing the lot of us.

"Thank you all for being here upon short notice," Lu Ten began. "As I'm sure you all have gathered, there is a lot to discuss. First thing's first, I am sure that it is of no surprise that, in light of our reinforcements and time spent in preparation, the time has finally come to end this stalemate with the Earth Kingdom and press forward."

A measured cheer went up, somehow the excitement of over a hundred officers in a tent just barely enough to contain us hardly even matching half the euphoria of Dragon Platoon alone just earlier today.

I didn't fault them too much for it. The circumstances and company present were rather different, but still, I allowed myself a small moment to clap and stomp my feet as the others were doing until Lu Ten had raised a hand to bid us to quiet, his sermon having only just begun.

"I've summoned all commanders down to the company level to be present as our coming offensive will succeed with one word alone-flexibility."

Upon this invisible cue, one of Lu Ten's royal guards placed on the map table, believe it or not, a map, clearly that of the outer ring between the outer and inner walls, zoomed in on our positions, myself able to make out the details as grand as the river down to the individual companies of our brigade. As Lu Ten began to speak, so too did the royal guardsman begin securing the map to the table and placing tokens clearly meant to represent us and the enemy.

"To catch you all up to speed on our current arrangement, at present, we with the 91st brigade as well as the 217th brigade hold the river against the Earth Kingdom while the 27th and 163rd defend our flanks. Over the last month, while exchanging consistent artillery fire with the enemy, our numbers have been reinforced by new troops courtesy of our fleet.

"By merit of their additional numbers and the reconnaissance of the river shore that they've been conducting, the time has now come to end this stalemate and engage the enemy. As such," he continued, now referring to the map and placing down a token that resembled a cannon, "Operation Taiga is to begin in five days with an artillery bombardment across the river and a feint attack to the West as launched by the 163rd." With that, he moved the token on the map representing what I imagined to be the 163rd, moving westwards from the south of where the river bent westwards, following along its coast into enemy territory.

Now moving another token with a symbol resembling that of an anchor across the river, Lu Ten continued. "2 days following, as part of the Earth Kingdom forces are distracted by the 163rd, the 7th marines under Lieutenant Colonel He'zao," he nodded towards the man in question who returned his nod, "will begin landing operations on the other side of the river."

A voice sounded in the tent, belonging to...a commander whose name couldn't yet come to me. "Do we intend our marines to make a single landing?" he asked. "Or across multiple landing zones?"

"Multiple landing zones," Lu Ten clarified, not the least bit deterred by questioning of his orders as he was giving them. "Lest our marines face overwhelming resistance at a single sight." Looking towards He'Zao, Lu Ten said, "Your operations are not to secure breach-heads, but to maintain flexibility, divert enemy attention, and be ready to pull out and retreat at a moment's notice. You will be provided the locations of said landing zones once this meeting is concluded."

"Very good, your highness."

Turning back to his map, Lu Ten resumed. "These landing operations are to occur in the morning, 0600 exact, receiving artillery support while the 217th will be conducting similar operations at their river segment.

"While the Earth Kingdom is occupied repelling our marine landings, landing craft will be prepared for our infantry battalions, and so at 1200, with artillery support and smoke cover, infantry will cross the river, establish a beachhead, and engage the enemy trenchline."

And with that, 4 tokens pushed forward across the river, one for every infantry battalion, us one of them.

"Flexibility remains imperative here," Lu Ten resumed, now looking up from the map to scan across the tent, looking us all each in the eye, it seemed, to reinforce the imperativeness of what he now said. "When we attack, we will have the river to our backs, and retreat will not be an option. Should our line be breached, and the enemy allowed to pass through, they will doubtless cut off our access to the river, stranding us on their side with no means of escape, and we will all be subsequently killed.

That was a pleasant though.

"It is why I have called you down here to the company level and asked you to bring your trusted lieutenants. There are no specific orders to give but for me to cement into your minds that the success of this operations, and the survival of thousands of your comrades may very well come down to your ability to read your situation, to plug any gaps in the line, and ensure we not be encircled by the enemy."

So we really were preparing for the worst, for the case where a single mistake could wind up in an entire brigade meeting a violent end north of the river. Well, the whole brigade minus armored, who still had yet to be mentioned.

"We can begin discussing battalion specifics now if-"

"What of armored?" I asked, emboldened only by the other commander prior to me having spoken up before, but even then, boldly out of place. I was a lieutenant, a fact that many of the other commanders now turning to look at me seemed to recognize, a few snickers even rising throughout the tent.

The look Lu Ten afforded me, however, was nothing of that kind, his response simply, "A good question, lieutenant. I am sure a fair number of you by now will have noticed the lack of armored company command staff here, the reason for this being that the armored divisions of the 91st and 217th have been temporarily transferred to the 163rd and 37th respectively."

A new token on the map, that for our armored units.

"They will be little good during a river target, no more than sitting ducks, and so will instead find a place in our feint attack, blitzing a way through Earth Kingdom territory, sewing dissent within their rear and flanks, taking the pressure off of our main attack force. This make sense to all?"

The question was delivered to the whole of the tent, but I felt his focus on me, and so simply nodded, and he smiled, returning to his map, as to all of us.

"Very well, we have much yet to go over, so let us continue."

And so he did, for the next hour and a half until not a single man in this tent could say they didn't know what the week ahead had in store for them. By the time he had concluded, the sun had begun to go down, and so we approached the end of another day, and came one closer to that which had been foretold today–our advance at long last.

I parted ways with Rulaan as we left the tent, him off on his way to logistics to secure dinner for the company, and me back to Dragon, ready to relay to them as to the other platoons ,as Rulaan had asked me,, just what was in store–our attack to come, and one of the remaining nails left in the Earth Kingdom's coffin.

Long Feng

"I...I admit," Qun said, barely containing a cough from where he sat on the side of his bed, "That I am surprised to see you today. It has been some time since, since-" He took a moment to breath, needing to support himself against the corner of his desk.

I had heard the word of Qun's infirmity, and hadn't seen the man for quite some time, half on account of his secretary being near impossible to go through, and half in part of me not having desired to catch anything, but desperate times had arrived, and I was tired of acting through the animus of assistants and letters.

"Since…since we last saw one another face to face."

"Yes," I responded. "I've missed your company of late." That wasn't a total lie, though it was less his company I missed as much as somebody with enough of a hand in our realm's financials to properly advise his grace on the folly of his administration's actions. "There was a council meeting today," I said. "With quite the audience too. Your voice would have been welcomed there."

Qun coughed, and soon was left wheezing, struggling for air.

Consumption was a wrathful bitch, one I wished never to accompany me at my bedside. I silently thanked the spirits I'd been spared thus far while I awaited Qun's response.

"Oh?" he said. And there it was, leaving me still the one needing to elaborate.

"On the matter of the Spring Festival. His Grace is under the belief that now is a proper time for such an event."

"Oh."

"Oh?" I echoed, wondering if that truly was all the man had to say. "Surely you, as the king's treasurer, have more to say on the matter than simply, 'oh.'"

"I," he coughed. "I apologize, but the days have been blending into one another as of late for me. If the festival is approaching, then truly it is a time for celebration. It is within our stockpiles to manage."

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Really?" I asked with a not-at-all-disguised sarcastic sting. "Blockaded and besieged as we are, now is a time for such extravagance?"

"We-well," he coughed. "With the…unpleasantry in the lower districts, the responsibility of feeding their denizens no longer falls upon the crown which, which certainly…excuse me."

I nodded, allowing the ailing man to produce a shǒupà from from robe to cough into, releasing a good deal of phlegm too it seemed. He held up a finger to tell me to be patient, as though I had any intention of leaving before getting what I'd come here for.

After all, I'd come a long ways to get here, the man no longer accessible from his office, instead having been residing in his upper district home for the last month and a half, converted into one part bedroom, one part office, and last part quarantine chamber. The blinds of all windows were closed, scarcely a shred of the midday light shining through, only a couple of candles scattered here and there offering any sense of direction for me as I found a seat on the opposite side of the room, as far as I could from the man while still holding a conversation, if this could count as one.

Qun finally finished his episode, then attempted to resume, saying, "Needless to say, no longer needing to care about the demands of the people in the lower districts has certainly taken much weight off of the crown's expenditures."

"Yes, but even so, with our sea access severed and our outer ring a contested area, we still do not have enough food coming into Ba Sing Se to provide for the middle and upper districts."

"The northern outer ring yet remains free of fighting."

"For the time being perhaps," I said, standing once again out of frustration. The situation in the outer ring thus far hadn't been a good one for us. Following the fall of the wall, the Fire Nation had entered through the breach, secured much of the south, and was on a collision force straight for our wall, the Zaojuan river about the only thing stopping the Fire Nation in their tracks, and likely only for so long.

And that was all from reports now outdated by over half a fortnight. What has happened since then was a mystery to me. For all I knew the Fire Nation could have crossed and already begun laying siege to our outer wall with the only way of me knowing being a wall of smoke to the south.

Keep that from happening, Hondu, I thought to myself.

I regained my thoughts. "Even then," I continued. "It's not as though we have the means of getting food in from the north, reliably at least. The situation in the lower districts has only worsened, our only means of getting food to us through back channels, but most anyway is bound to wind up in the hands of criminals, anarchists, and warlords."

"I," he coughed. "I understand your concerns, and they are not without cause, but," he coughed again, more this time. "I assure you that our situation is stable."

As much as I wanted to scoff, so too did part of me want to believe. He was the treasurer after all, infirm as he was. Even he wouldn't make an assertion so baseless. "Well," I said. "Wonderful then. May I verify this claim? I trust you have reports, inventories, something you can provide me that will help me do my duties so I may know what I'm working with?"

"I uh," he coughed. "Here?"

"Yes, treasurer. Here. Where the two of us are currently."

"I don't keep," he coughed. "I don't keep these documents here. They are kept in my office."

On the complete other side of the city in the royal palace?

"Do you," I started. "Often make a habit of sending critical documents to the complete other side of Ba Sing Se every time after you create, review, and sign them?"

"No, sir. These-" another cough. "These documents have not crossed my desk. As I-" more coughing. "As I am recovering, I have staff, assistants, tending to this work."

"Staff," I scoffed, a lot suddenly making a lot more sense, now finding myself pacing in a small semi-circle I'd constructed for myself across the mess of his floorplan. "So why in spirits' name am I speaking to you then if you're not even the one managing his grace's financials and logistics as your title ought to imply."

"I-I assure you, my lord, that all, most reports pass through here first for review and they speak positively of our situation."

"And you recall the details of these reports?"

"I-"

I didn't need to hear the rest.

"Forget it," I said, now closing the distance between the two of us regardless of whatever afflicted him. "I will go to your office, consult your staff, and handle this there. Draft up a letter permitting me access, provide your signature, and I will be on my way?"

"To," he coughed, this time seemingly more on account of his nerves than the consumption that rotted away his lungs. "To what end?"

"So I may have a better understanding of this city's supplies in order to fulfill his majesty's royal prerogative."

"But there…there are steps to take with this, a system, I…"

He droned on, and I understood. This was the last semblance of his authority and autonomy I was stripping away from him, the infirm husk in front of me still incapable of accepting that his life was slipping away, and even quicker was his role in our king's court. I didn't have time to battle his pride, even if his argument was, by a technicality, true. There was a system to this, a lengthy process of requesting access to a fellow counciler's domain. Unfortunately for all involved, however, I had little patience for bureaucracy. Now especially.

"Qun," I started. "It is by my good grace that this presently remains a matter between two counciler's of the king's court. It can just as quickly, however, become a matter of interest for the Dai Li."

And nothing good ever comes from an investigation by the Dai Li, guilty or otherwise.

Qun understood this, and already, the dying man somehow came closer, withering in his seat with every sentence I finished.

"Cooperate with me in this capacity, and there need be no reason for me to exercise my powers in obtaining what I want anyway with more collateral damage for those in the way."

And like that, I had won. Truly, sometimes, it was as simple as that.

"I…I see what you mean," Qun said. "Please, if you might-" he coughed. "Might provide me with paper and quill, I can-"

I had it on his lap before he could finish.

His calligraphy was shoddy, likely by merit of living death that ate away at his little remaining life, and perhaps partly too on account of nerves that I had stirred. However, his instructions were clear, and his signature legible–all that I needed.

"Is…is that all you would ask of me?" he asked, handing me the paper which I now rolled and stowed away.

"It is," I confirmed, stepping back, already having stood in his immediate vicinity for longer than I would have liked. "I will allow you to rest now. I wish you a speedy recovery and hope to see you sitting on his grace's council soon."

"I'm sure you do," Qun replied, and I couldn't tell if his voice had deliberately come out as a growl, or simply grown hoarse from the cough that soon proceeded.

Were he the man he was a half decade ago, I perhaps would have feared the repercussions of angering the man in charge of the realm's financials, but such was no longer the man sitting in front of me.

I left his home, and welcomed the fresh air that came upon shutting his door behind me and bidding his household attendants farewell, and enjoyed it still all throughout the walk that followed back to the royal palace.

If ever there was a wing of the royal palace in such a state of disarray so as to be indistinguishable from a lower district hospice, it was the treasurer's office, infested by cobwebs, prattling insects, and a secretary whos till found her place at her desk everyday perfectly on time lest there be cause for her to no longer get her pay every other week.

"Hi there!" she announced in a chipper voice upon seeing my approach, very likely the only person she'd seen on this side of the palace today. "Are you here to see Treasurer Qun? I can book an appointment for you if so."

So I can go back and visit him a mile and a half from the office behind you? I thought, forcing a smirk not to rise to my face. I did, however, take some pleasure in proving I knew more than she believed I did by saying, "He sent me here to collect a number of files necessary for a joint project."

I unfurled the paper he'd written and signed, and placed it on the secretary's desk for her to look over before gazing back up at me, a sense of shock seeming to come across her upon realizing she might actually need to do something with her job.

"I trust this is something you can assist me with?" I finished.

"I…" she scrambled for words, thinking of what there was to say, doubtless not actually having been approached with a matter requiring her attention for the month and a half that Qun had been bedridden if not longer when the first serious symptoms had begun to show. "I can," she said finally, rising to stand. "Yes. Please follow me."

Whereas the treasury reception had been an orderless mess, I would come to witness as his secretary unlocked and opened the door for us, that Qun's office was the very opposite in terms of not only organization, but sheer scale. A labyrinth of bookshelves, drawers, desks, and piles of papers, ledgers, and scrolls awaited. I had no doubt that to follow the room to its very rear would bring me to documents that preceded all of us who stood here, the war we presently fought, appearing as though it could have even been dating back to the first harmonic convergence had Ba Sing Se even been a concept in its founders' great ancestors' mind by then.

Near the front of the office, however, more recent documents, not yet shelved, but freshly stacked into dozens of piles.

"I apologize for the mess," the secretary said. "It's been some time since anybody has come to visit."

"Quite the contrary," I said. "It appears this office has had its fair share of visitors. Simply not the man who should be here."

"Yes, well, perhaps when he has recovered, Teo Qun will return."

"Hmm," I responded simply, letting my hand find the top of the nearest pile, eyes scanning over the visible characters, speaking of merely the exchanges of funds in a single hour timespan for the day. Thousands of documents to go through in search of an updated inventory, tens of thousands of exchanges to monitor.

"As you can imagine," the secretary butted in. "Teo Qun has many attendants in his employ to see to the proper filing and organization of these matters."

"And who's in charge?" I asked, turning towards her. "Qun aside, of course."

"Young boy, very bright."

"Is he here presently?" I asked, certainly curious to speak to one who actually seemed to have an active hand in the Earth Kingdom's economic affairs.

But alas, that would have been to easy.

"I'm afraid not," she said. "I believe he mentioned that tomorrow was his grandsire's name day and had requested an early dismissal."

Of course he had.

I sighed, raising a hand to wipe the sleep from my eyes as I took in the sight of the room in front of me–certainly a task in it of itself ahead.

"I will be sending for some of my personnel," I said to the secretary. "They will be here soon to transfer relevant documents to my office."

"Sir, is that-"

"As permitted by Qun," I said, ready to produce the very same document he'd signed and she'd already reviewed once again, but it seemed that voicing his name had been enough for her to resign.

"Of course," she said, nodding. "As is required."

I nodded, and smiled, that joy tempered, however, by the knowledge of what was to come, one hell of a busy night.

Aegis

Before we'd set out, Zaso and Ikeem's description of traveling the waters had been the stuff of wonders, endless blue expanse in every which way, the smell of salt as carried in the breeze of the sea enough to invigorate you even on the most dreary of days.

Well, I saw where the river ended to my left and to my right, and the last descriptor I was about to ascribe to the smell would be invigorating. Rather, 'nauseating' felt more befitting.

Or perhaps that was just the movements of the water.

I hadn't felt the need to mention prior to boarding that I'd never been on a boat before. Maybe I hadn't thought it important. That was silly to me now, of course, but thirty minutes ago, I was incapable of truly comprehending just what the difference between riding a tank on rugged terrain and riding a boat on a flowing stream would be.

How wrong I had been, I realized the moment we'd started moving and I immediately began to feel something shift in my stomach in a way I imagined it was not meant to.

I'd fallen to my feet the moment I stepped aboard, sending a good number of chuckles through my companion, including even Boss who, at least for the moment, didn't have the look on his face of one who'd rather be anywhere else.

Trying to stand hadn't gone much better, and still, nearly a half hour later as we'd finally gotten ourselves unmoored and properly on the water as though before hadn't been bad enough already, I was still seated on the ground with my back to the wall of the boat, trying my damndest to keep my stomach inside of me.

The sight of me had seemed to lose its novelty after about 30 minutes, which, lucky me, happened to also be when I was beginning to adjust and could just now begin to even consider rising to my feet to join the others who, by this point, had begun to entertain themselves instead by talking to one another rather than laugh at the sight of me.

However, when they saw me begin to rise, they reshifted their attention once again.

Maybe I should have just stayed down, I thought for a moment, but I wasn't going to let myself be remembered by these as one who spent the entire naval patrol glued to the floor.

"Ah, so he rises!" Zaso chuckled, attracting Ikeem's attention from the helm. "Grow your sealegs already?"

I had no idea what the hell that was, so even if I was capable of answering, I wouldn't have answered much more intelligibly than I ended up doing, muttering a simple grunt and groan as I rose to my feet.

Him and Ikeem chuckled, Boss less part of the fun now as he'd been initially. It seemed that whatever funk he was supposed to be in, he suddenly remembered, and so had retreated back into the silent husk he was so keen on being. His attention was placed more on the northern coast of the river than on me, which I supposed was of some benefit to me who was already struggling with Zaso's and Ikeem's eyes on me.

At least as I rose to my feet, a hand on the wall of the boat for support, I began to recover some dignity, managing to muster up enough humor to joke, "What're you talking about? Was just tired is all."

That ruse soon would be foiled, however, by a lap of a wave beneath us, spraying water on my hand, an unexpected startle that had me thinking that a killer shrimp or some other aquatic creature I'd heard of in my time in Taisho had gone for a bite.

I retracted my hand in a flash, inspecting it immediately for some form of bite or wound to the chorus of Zaso and Ikeem laughing.

Such was what proved to be the detriment of the riverboat the marines were using–it offered little in the way of privacy. That, and it was quick as hell, perhaps not the best for my first foray on the water. It didn't help either that Ikeem appeared to be pushing the boat to her limits, this more beginning to feel like a leisure ride than the patrol they had alleged to.

Finally able to secure some, putting Zaso's laughter temporarily to rest as he sought to be entertained by Ikeem instead, I found my way towards Boss whose eyes scanned the northern horizon.

"So," I said, trying to find some way to break his silence. "What exactly are we looking for on this patrol?"

Boss scoffed. "You still think that's what we're here for?"

"Well, if marines are under even half the scrutiny we are whenever we want to take Shanzi out, I imagine we gotta have some reason for being here other than a joy ride."

"Look north, Aegis. What do you see?"

I looked north, and, well, there wasn't much save for a river coast about a quarter of a mile away completely devastated by artillery shells, the occasional strewn corpse, and an earth torn apart by prior efforts by both sides to make a crossing.

I wondered for a moment if this was some kind of trick, but I figured quickly enough that it was simply Boss trying to make a point, so I humored him.

"Nothing," I said.

He nodded. "If brigade wants us here for anything, it's to keep the river that way. Send enough 'patrols' through, and the Earth Kingdom won't consider setting up nearby, so we won't need to waste shells on scaring them back to their line. Joy ride's 'bout the most accurate way to describe what we're doing here."

We hit another lap in the river, and the skiff bounced, sending me clutching for the wall again. Boss's smile shifted almost into a smile.

"First time on the water?"

"I figured that would've been obvious by now. But no, yeah; didn't have much in the way of water sports where I grew up."

Which also meant a lack of knowing how to swim-a grim reality considering where I was.

How durable are these boats again?

He chuckled. "Should've seen my first time. Was so scared shitless I refused to step on the boat. They had to hogtie me and have four crewmen carry me just to get me on the damned ship."

"Seriously?"

He said nothing, looked at me, his expression suddenly turning dead serious. "No; I'm just trying to make you feel better."

That got a laugh from me. If that was his plan, then it was at least facing some partial success.

His dismal expression remained, however, and he turned back to face the northern coast, quite grim for somebody allegedly seeing some old friends after quite the long hiatus. I had to ask, but with Zaso and Ikeem right nearby, found that rather difficult.

I considered merely whispering, but before I could get the question out, Zaso's patience with Ikeem had worn out, and he'd returned to us. I wondered if I would get my answer through other means.

"Gotta say, Boss, I'm impressed. Would've figured that with them putting you on land for as long as you've been, would've lost your sea legs yourself."

"Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Guess so, huh?"

"How long were you navy?" I asked, hoping to have my voice at least somewhat included in the conversation.

"Three years without them, three with, so six total."

"Two consecutive tours," Zaso said, mostly to himself. "Small wonder they put you in charge. Got to have been one of the better commanders the raiders ever saw?"

"Raiders?" I asked, not recognizing the unit name.

"Southern Raiders," Zaso clarified. "Specialized for operations in the southern theater of war against the water tribe."

"If operations are what you could call them," Boss interjected, his comment just as quickly shrugged off by Zaso.

That name, however, I recognized, though only vaguely, often more the subject of jokes thrown around Citadel whenever we needed some form of boogeyman to attribute random deaths, disappearances, and other happenings to.

Jelek died in the middle of the night? Southern Raiders. Thora decided to climb the inner wall, tripped, fell, and broke his skull on a brick? Southern Raiders. Riso shit himself in the middle of the night stinking up The Hive? Southern Raiders.

I'd asked about the joke before and most hadn't known either where the joke had begun or even who the Southern Raiders were. The closest I'd gotten to an answer was that it likely had been some joke passed down back from when Taisho had used to be Earth Kingdom and they'd required somebody to blame every ailment of the city on from missed supply shipments to sudden plagues appearing.

Zaso must have recognized some look of recognition on my face as he asked, "Oh, so you have heard of us."

"Only vaguely," I said, trying to stop myself from smiling, much more accidentally laughing.

I must have failed in part as Zaso chuckled and said, "Good times. Your Boss over there was our captain for quite a good part of my tour 'til he left seeking greener pastures." He turned to face the death and decay of the north. "If you can call this that."

Boss wasn't saying anything. A bad note had been struck somewhere in the conversation, and curious though I was, Zaso was far from finishing speaking, and me from being done listening.

"Shame he left when he did though. Starting to look like I'm gonna beat your service record. Well, assuming the Southern Raiders still exist a year from now."

Now that had Boss's attention. He stood up from where he was leaning against the wall of the boat to look at Zaso and ask, "What do you mean?"

Zaso's expression shifted too, a smile, almost sinister, rising to his face, and so he looked Boss dead in the eye to say, "We got her."

"Bullshit."

"Got who?" I asked.

"She's a myth," Boss continued.

"Then explain how we got her?"

"Got who?" I asked again.

"Nobody," Boss said.

But Zaso had a different answer. "The Southern Seductress, the Blood Witch, the Puppetmaster, she goes by many names."

"And she doesn't exist," Boss said. "She was a story made up by Fire Nation propagandists to keep sending us against water tribe villages to no end even after we'd already killed every last waterbender there."

"Not all of them," Zaso smiled. "Not until a few months ago that is. Had reports of one last waterbender, one that slipped between our fingers, right under our noses for years. Her."

"Like I said, bullshit."

"Then who else would it have been?" Zaso said. "One last waterbender in the whole of the watertribe, and it had to be her–the one who slipped away."

"So what? Capture her all over again? Even more chains and cages?"

"You kidding?" Zosa scoffed. "After the shitstorm of her escaping the first time and all the cautionary tales they told us because of her alone? Hell no. We opted for something more final."

"You killed her."

Zosa nodded and smiled. "Puppetmaster's finally dead, hiding in the last village in all of the Southern Water Tribe. Was one of the cleanest raids we've ever done. In and out, minimal casualties, and the softie in you will be glad to know it was only her we killed."

"Yeah, you really are heroes." Boss sighed. "So she put up a fight? After everything we heard, no way in hell she didn't."

Zaso scoffed. "That's the thing, not even. Guess something about the south that makes you go soft. First you, then her. Didn't even fight. Practically surrendered herself right to us for capture. And, well, you know Yon Rha, wasn't gonna have that. Torched her right in front of her daughter."

Boss's expression darkened, unspoken insults and curses flurrying towards Zaso. He did, eventually, however, speak to say, "And so you're taking it on faith that you got her."

"She confessed to being the waterbender we were after. Who fucking else?"

Boss said nothing, but only shook his head and turned back to face the coast."

Again, his opposite scoffed. "Spirits. You just don't want to admit that we were right, huh? That we had a reason for what we did? It was a war, Boss, and we won."

"What we were doing was anything but a war."

"They were our orders."

"It was a genocide!"

And silence reigned once again, until Zaso had had enough time to decide it unimportant. "They were still our orders. Orders that you, at every possible moment, tried to get in the way of."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We finished our missions," Boss said.

"Yeah," Zaso said through a scoff. Barely. You were too busy weaving our way around water tribe patrols and fishing fleets, dismissing rumors of benders, and steering us away from every potential settlement that we marked down to actually do the job Yon Rha and the firelord had given us. You ever think your actions just kept us in the south longer than if you'd just learned to suck it up and let us do our job!?"

And that was when Boss had finished with talking. I hadn't had time to see it coming, myself more focused on Zaso, his words, and to what extent I actually find myself agreeing with him over my own commander, but a hand flashed forward, and caught the man in the nose, knocking him back against the side of the boat, not enough to send him overboard, but just enough that he was clutching to the edge to stop that from happening.

I wondered for a brief moment if Boss intended to follow through, push him right over the edge, and if I should intervene. Ikeem had turned around from the wheel, but was in no position to intervene, the shock on his face and in his body far greater than any readiness to stand in Boss's way.

But Boss had no need to go any further. Whatever point he'd intended to make, he'd made it, and the Zaso that only a few minutes ago had been doing whatever he could to drag Boss into the revelry he'd been before feeling was clearly gone now, wiping the blood from his nose as he eyed Boss down, and I found myself wondering if I need prepare for retaliation, or a very uncomfortable duration of the ride.

Fortunately, it would be neither, because as much as I didn't look forward to a ride under these circumstances, neither did Zaso or Ikeem by how it seemed.

We were let off on the riverbed, at the southern side, at least, not 5 minutes later. Really it'd been Boss more than myself who was being dismissed, but, as his subordinate, I figured nothing truly good would come from me deliberately abandoning him to make the trek back to our division alone. Whether I agreed with him or not.

Because even when I thought about it, I found myself struggling to reach a conclusion. He was a soldier, we all were, and he'd been given his orders, and if he'd blatantly disobeyed them, then what the hell was that supposed to mean. He was my commander, and I would have liked some reassurance in knowing that what I did was what I was meant to be doing rather than following one man's whims, guided by a moral compass though they may've been.

I suppose something of the look on my face had spoken to my thoughts as once the southern raider skiff had departed, Boss's attention had now turned to me so he might ask, "If you're going to look at me that way, you may as well have stayed with them."

"You disobeyed orders?" I found myself forced to ask.

Boss sighed, similar to how a parent may sigh when faced with a question from a child that they'd answered dozens of times before, disappointed with the fact that he needed to answer the question more than with anything else.

"I may as well have," he said.

"So you didn't," I said. "Not technically."

I should have realized my last question had been enough off of the proper target for Boss's taste that I ought to have, but maybe because I'd elected to be abandoned on the shoreline with him, or maybe because he viewed it as the only alternative to punching me too square in the mouth, he afforded me an answer.

"Like Zaso said, I diverted our patrols, distracted our intelligence, shortened our raids, I did whatever I could in a leadership capacity to give the water tribe breathing room."

"They were the enemy."

"They were a beaten dog! When I joined the southern raiders, the southern water tribe was estimated to have been down to no more than a half dozen waterbenders. In the last 2 years of my service, we suspected only one remaining, and so we spent 2 years raiding villages, capturing, interrogating, killing innocents, bringing their entire civilization to the brink of ruin. Our orders were the genocide of a people! Are those orders worth following?"

"I'm not saying they were, but the Water Tribe was the enemy. The North still is. If it ends the war, then like Zaso said, wouldn't it have been better to carry out your orders simply, find that last waterbender so the south could finally know peace once the resistance against them stopped?"

"You don't know the raiders like I do. What they did, it was never about war, it was a military unit comprised or murderers and rapists seeking a state-sanctioned means of getting their thrills. And even if it would help end the war-" he stopped himself, took a moment to collect himself, then continued. "If you were told that to go to the 114th, and kill everybody you used to know from Citadel would end the war, would you?"

The hell?

"That's different," I said. "The 114th is on our side."

"Forget about fucking sides for a second, Aegis. Assume they weren't. Assume they were all still Taisho kids, minding their own fucking business, starving and diseased with already almost no hope for a future. Would you?"

"It wouldn't make sense," I said, so keen on avoiding his question. "They would never be a threat to the Fire Nation."

"And so some frozen villages in the most isolated part of the world were? But these are your orders, Aegis, so answer."

"I…it's different. I joined the Fire Nation to protect these people."

"And I joined the Fire Nation to protect people do, not to babysit savages who wanted to get their rocks off on a dying race."

Any answer, any retort, any mental solution evaded me, and even in finding me lack for any proper counter-offensive against him, Boss showed no sign of being ready to gloat, to revel in this 'victory.'

He only turned west to face towards the direction of our camp, and said, "We have a long walk ahead of us. We should start now." And so he began to walk, and a knot in my stomach, I pushed the question out of my head, and followed.

Long Feng

The workload of the night came as no surprise to me. I had known immediately upon stepping into Qun's office that a proper dissection of his documentation, logs, inventories, and the like would see me without any sleep for a few days at the very least.

I had considered, for a time, allowing my Dai Li agents a hand at it. Spirits knew that more hands on deck would greatly had sped up the process, but I had little to no way of knowing what lay within the contents of his office, and so upon the completion of the transfer of his documents to my own office, had dismissed them, knowing that what lay within was best kept for my eyes alone. Well, mine, and those of another whose help I hadn't thought to ask for.

"Okay," Joo Dee had said once I had finally returned to an office space now cluttered with stacks and piles of scrolls, ledgers, inventories, everything that'd come from Qun's office. "Mind telling just what all of this is?"

I smirked, and said simply, "Paperwork. You are dismissed for now, Joo Dee. I have a busy night ahead of me."

"You intend on going through all of this yourself. I can bring in scribes for help if-"

"No, Joo Dee, but thank you. I don't know what's in here, and it's best that I limit the eyes that look over these to as few as possible."

"Does that include mine?"

I hadn't initially realized Joo Dee's statement for the self-invitation it was, not by the time she was already seated beside me at the 2nd hour of the night, a box of scrolls between her legs, already looking through them one at a time, and so it was only then that I realized what I had initially thought a curse lay upon me may not unfold quite so bad as I had anticipated.

The bun she'd tied her hair into had lost its fidelity over the day, and so every scroll she leaned over, loose strands hung, a curtain that just obscured part of her face so that those small fractions which went unobfuscated were that much more beautiful.

If I had been a younger man, perhaps things would have been different. Perhaps I would have used a moment like this to act, to voice maybe even a fraction of the suppressed emotions that tormented me in the moments she was around me and those she wasn't as well.

If I had been a younger man, perhaps I also would have been able to go the night without my age catching up to me, perhaps I would have been able to stay awake without falling asleep, head leaned back against the wall, an inventory transfer log placed firm in my lap, only about a quarter of the way through this five dozenth scanned document before falling into a slumber.

I hadn't known I had fallen asleep until I had been awakened by a familiar hand on my shoulder, and wondered for a moment if it was reality I was waking into, or a pleasant dream I would mourn the loss of upon waking.

But her hand was real, as was her smile as she looked at me, then down at something she held between her hands, and told me, "I think I found something."

But maybe reality wasn't so far from a good dream after all.

My eyes widened for a moment, looking at her, then at the documents she'd compiled, and I asked, "How long was I asleep."

"Not important. I think I found something important."

"What?"

"Just look," she affirmed, scooting aside to make room for me as I scooted across the floor by her side, her arm against the sleeve of my robe as I now looked over what it was that she had arranged in front of her, trying to ignore the beams of an early-morning sun that shone through a blinded window, telling of a far longer slumber than I had intended.

But I ignored it for the moment, and read. Read over the supply shipments listed, hailing from the lower districts to the middle, the middle to the upper, all of the same inventories, all on consecutive days. I read of shipment transfers within the upper district, and back to the middle, shipments split, halved, quartered, anything, scattered across numerous days in a manner that would have been unrecognizable had Joo Dee not found a pattern and marked connected shipments with colored ink. Because no matter the deception inherent in the documentation, the numbers were all lining up to sum up to the same original quantities of what'd been brought in from the lower districts, and I tracked the inventories listed, found their attached documents, and saw precisely what was so eloquently being brought from the lower city into our controlled districts and hidden in paperwork so as to be nearly undetectable.

"There's food coming into the city," I said, looking to Joo Dee now who nodded. I looked back to the documents. "From the lower city. But where the hell is it going? Did you find anything on how it's being distributed?" I asked. "Where it winds up? I see nothing here, so-"

"That," Joo Dee interrupted me. "Is the interesting part."

And with that, she passed to me another set of documents, properly marked with the same color scheme she'd used prior, now marking the final destinations of all the scattered shipments from prior. None were being distributed, brought to royal supply caches, but rather, put into private storage, and when I looked for the name of who such property was under, only one name came back to me. My own. Long Feng.

And my head turned to Joo Dee, a look on her face that begged for an answer to a question she couldn't on her own.

"So," she started. "What does this mean? Food comes in, goes to you, so…is this good?"

I looked back to the documents and no. No, it was very far from good.

"No," I said, a shake of my head as I let the papers down. "It's not. The food here, it's not too little to go under the radar, but not nearly enough to solve any of our problems save maybe a single wasteful spring celebration. But it is the perfect amount for something else?"

And that same look on her face. "So, for what then?"

"For framing me for corruption."