Azula had hardly spoken a word after the demonstration concluded. Despite this, her mind was in overdrive, attempting to piece together how best to propose the issue to her father. The Crown Princess knew he wouldn't be happy, but she could at least make him understand why she made such an agreement on his behalf. However, there was one thing that she found disconcerting above everything else: Nikolai had outplayed her at her own game. No one had ever outsmarted her, at least none who could get away with it. Yet, the elder Grand Duke had given her a false sense of security, making her believe she had the advantage. However, she also found she couldn't hold it against him no matter how much she tried. After all, if not for whatever it was he'd done when Azula first revealed her fire, the Fire Nation may have been at war with another great power. Regardless, once she and her men arrived back at their fort, she immediately dismissed herself, opting to rest before even attempting to write the letter to the Firelord. Thankfully, when Ty Lee and Mai had tried to talk to her upon arrival, Azula's glare was enough to tell them she wasn't in the mood to discuss what had transpired, allowing her to do what she'd longed to do since the debacle at the Ruskian Headquarters. She washed, changed, and lay in her bed. However, as she rested, her thoughts unconsciously turned to Ivan, and a small smile spread on her features.

After Azula left, Ivan returned to his men while the elder Grand Duke and the Generals went to the command tent and began their meeting. "Now, gentlemen, what are your thoughts?" he asked as he sat at the back of the table.

"Well, I, for one, found it to be an enlightening experience," said General Alexeev as he sat back. "Though I did find the reaction of our guests to be interesting, to say the least."

"I'm sure you did, as we are aware of how much you enjoy the sound of your guns," retorted General Orlovsky, the primary commander of the cavalry, as he took off his white-feather plumed hat and set it down on the table.

General Boskovsky sighed in response. "Gentlemen, please, this is no time for your petty squabbles!" he shouted at the two before turning to Nikolai as he realized he'd spoken out of turn. "Apologies, Grand Duke."

Nikolai shook his head as the others turned to see his response. "No, you are correct. Let us not dwell on details of little importance," he began. "General Bobrinsky, is there something you wish to add? I know you and Orlov don't speak the language."

The man shook his head. "No, Grand Duke, I don't have anything to add-" he paused as he realized he DID have a question. "Actually, how did she do that without magic?"

Nikolai's eyes lit up in response: Of course, he didn't understand her speech! "To be perfectly honest, I am not so sure myself, but it would seem this bending of hers is something the Lord intended," he began before translating what she'd said about the subject.

"Hm, interesting..." said General Orlovsky as he stroked his chin.

"I agree. It is most strange indeed," added General Bobrinsky. "But, if the Patriarch didn't find any corruption, then it would seem Deus intended it."

"Speaking of which..." began General Boskovsky, turning to Nikolai. "Are you certain there is any possibility we can capture Ba Sing Se with the forces we have, considering what we've heard this morning?"

Nikolai softly stroked his beard in thought. "No. Even with our superior weapons, they likely outnumber us 5-1 at the moment," he expressed. "Besides, we only have sixteen siege and ninety-six field guns at our disposal, and it's unlikely the Fire Nation will aid us in this endeavour, at least if we wish to achieve our objectives," he finished solemnly before sighing and turning to the man sitting at the newly placed telegraph. "Lieutenant?"

The man quickly stood up and snapped to attention. "Yes, Grand Duke?"

"Are we connected to Ruskia?" Nikolai asked.

"Yes, Grand Duke, the priests finished the gate while you were conducting the parade for the Princess."

"Good. Tell High Command I request urgent reinforcements, specifically any siege artillery not currently in use."

"Anything else?" asked the Lieutenant.

"Yes. I request another corps as well," Nikolai began. "They don't have to be regulars. I merely need more men. It would be best if they were from the far east or any region similar to the former Pogyin. In exchange, I will return the aviators."

"Of course, Grand Duke, I shall send the message," replied the young communications officer as he saluted before he sat down and began to press his emitter, filling the room with its incessant beeping as he rushed to transmit the Grand Duke's orders.

After taking leave of his father, Ivan returned to his unit headquarters to find Colonel Alexeev, Major Dimitirev, and Major Bolkvadze sitting down and having tea around a small circular table. "Ah, Ivan, there you are. Come, join us," said the Colonel, gesturing for him to sit down.

The young Grand Duke nodded his thanks, pulling up a vacant chair while Alexeev handed him a warm cup of tea. Upon taking a sip, he sighed in relief. "Ah... That's much better," he said as he slumped back in his chair, gazing idly at the roof of the large tent. He wasn't surprised at his reaction. After all, it'd been a long morning, and the taste of mint brought a great sense of calm.

"Well, it seems I haven't lost my touch," joked Alexeev with a small smile as he sipped his cup. "I must say, though, it was surreal to see you watching us. It reminded me of when your father first presented you to us all those years ago."

Ivan smiled at the memory. "How could I forget? It was the best birthday present my father ever gave me," he said, recalling how he'd seen his first review when he turned ten, and his father had even surprised him with a General's uniform in his size for the occasion. "You can't inspect a parade if you're out of uniform," his father had told him.

In response, Major Dimitriev nodded his head. "Indeed, I recall it was a highlight for me as well, though, at the time, I was only a Lieutenant," he said with a slight grimace and a shake of his head. "And to think, now I'm a Major..."

His words left a bad taste in the mouths of Ivan and his comrades, all silently acknowledging why he and Dimitriev had climbed the ranks so quickly. Two weeks ago, seven men were sitting under this same tent, drinking tea, talking, and laughing with one another. But now? Three of those men were lying face down in the fields of Drobin. The men quietly sipped their tea, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room as no one wished to acknowledge the deaths of their friends and brothers in arms.

But, unexpectedly, Colonel Alexeev, his eyes cloudy, placed down his tea and, without looking at the others, began to sing:

"Two brothers were going there,

Coming back from Akhvaz front,

Coming back from Akhvaz front at home.

As soon as we've crossed,

The Kordish border,

Kordish army has attacked us for three times."

Solemnly and slightly unwilling, the others joined in singing the verse as their eyes gazed downward, attempting to hide their expressions from one another.

"Attacked, attacked,

They have wounded my chest,

My wounds hurt.

One wound is gathering,

Another one is cursing,

The third one is fatal."

They attempted to sing with power, to gain strength, though, regardless of their efforts, their thoughts inevitably turned to their friends, torn and rended with shot and canister.

"But I have children at home,

My young wife,

She is waiting impatiently.

Dear sister,

Give me a list of paper,

I'll write a letter to my relatives."

By this point, tears stained their cheeks, yet they continued despite knowing what came next.

"My father will read it

But my mother doesn't know

That her son lost his right hand

Children will grow up

And will ask their mother

Where is our dear father?"

These men had known each other for quite some time, as each had grown up around the others in one way or another, only adding further heartache as the memories carried further back. They remembered the parties, the reviews, and the social gatherings with friends and family, never to be repeated.

"And mother will turn away

And will start crying:

"Your father was killed during the Russo-Akhvaz war,"

She is waiting,

Nobody cares,

They won't wait till I come. (I won't come home)

Only deep grave,

Will get me,

Surely will get me."

By the time they had finished, the tears still stained their faces, yet, for some reason, they felt better. Finally, with a trembling hand, Major Bolkvadze slowly raised his cup, pulling the others out of their melancholy. "Gentlemen, may we forever remember the sacrifices of Lt. Colonel Slavik Yaroslavich Sokolov, Major Sergei Segeivich Razninsky, and Major Vladimir Pyotrovich Lebedev. May they dwell in eternal glory with our Maker!" he shouted before downing the rest of his tea as the others followed him.

Following this, there was little said amongst the commanders of the Zlachny Life Guards, yet the atmosphere was significantly lighter than just a few moments ago. Soon enough, Ivan bid them farewell and proceeded to his tent, only to find someone waiting for him. He almost didn't recognize Pyotr as he stood outside his tent, with only his undershirt covering his torso and a simple fatigue cap on his head, though he'd left his uniform trousers and boots on. "Ah, there you are. I was looking all over for you," he said, the fatigue evident in his tone.

"Pyotr, what are you doing here?" he asked with a concerned gaze, only now realizing his shirt was soaked, likely to help him cool off.

"I just wanted to know how things were with the Princess?" he asked, a tired smile etching his face.

However, while not intended, Ivan's thoughts immediately carried him back to that moment, back to when Azula had first revealed her abilities. He remembered the fear, the fright, the terror. Yet, not for himself. Well, perhaps that wasn't true, and he didn't realize, but either way, it was Azula he had been most concerned for. Despite this, he did not know why he'd felt this way, seeing as if she'd proven dangerous, he wouldn't blame his compatriots for killing or capturing her. But even knowing that still didn't change the way he'd felt. Fortunately, it seemed the Lord had other plans. Of course, it's not like he would tell his friend that, not right now anyway. "Things were...interesting. However, I'm sure my father will inform everyone of what happened eventually," he began before yawning. "Now, if you'll excuse me," he pushed past Pyotr and entered his tent, with the man shaking his head and walking away as Ivan sat down and stripped himself of his uniform, feeling the sweat pouring down his brow and chest as he took out his canteen and took a large gulp of water. Afterwards, he wiped his mouth and screwed the lid back on before taking off his boots and footwraps and lying down in his cot.

It had proved a relatively quiet day for the staff officers of the Stavka as they ate and chatted with each other over lunch when a young communications officer burst through the door waving a telegram in his hand. "For you, Field Marshal, a message from Grand Duke Nikolai!" he shouted as he ran up to a man with graying hair, aged features, and sharp gray eyes.

"Thank you, I will call if I need you," he said as he took it.

"Of course, Field Marshal," replied the young man with a sharp salute before walking out of the room with the guards closing the door behind him.

The other men in the room turned to him as he began reading its contents, a frown slowly forming as he reached the bottom. "I see... So he thinks we didn't give him enough, eh?"

"Pardon, Marshal Rachen?" asked one of the others, a man in his mid-forties with light brown hair and blue eyes.

Dibrachen shook his head. "The Grand Duke requests another full corps and the strategic artillery reserve as reinforcements for his little project," he said with a sigh.

"Did he say why? I mean, he's not the type to make requests of this scale lightly," retorted a middle-aged man with brown eyes and a twirled mustache.

In response, the Marshal placed down the telegram and turned to him. "I'm afraid not. Though I understand your point, Marshal Markov, it is not like him to make such a seemingly ludicrous request like this," he said, leaning down and looking at the strategic map in the center of the vast table. He said he wanted soldiers related to the Pogyinese. Hmm. Dibrachen turned his gaze, examining the various pieces used to represent the positions of all formations within mainland Ruskia. His eyes travelled east on the map until he focused on one particular corps of recruits that had only recently finished mobilization and training. Perfect. "In that case, we shall send the 2nd Ugan corps to reinforce the Grand Duke."

"And what of the Artillery?" asked the blue-eyed man in concern.

"He said he will only require it for two weeks, which, while not ideal, won't be enough for our enemies to turn the tide against us, though I will not commit all of it," Marshal Rachen began as the man stared at him in disbelief. "However, Marshal Tchinsky, need I remind you that if the Grand Duke succeeds, we can use the territory he conquers to hide our industry."

In response, Tchinsky sighed. "Of course not. Though I still fear that this will be a waste of valuable resources. After all, it sounds like he wants to get us involved in another war, and after that, then what?"

The older man put a hand to his chin. "I will admit, you have a point. Besides, he already knows that even his current forces are temporary. However, I will trust his judgment on this. After all, I've known the Grand Duke for his entire career, and not once has he failed in accomplishing his objectives," he said before facing the others. "That said, I can only pray he will deliver us a swift victory for the sake of himself and the war effort. Now, is everyone in agreement?"

The others nodded, and with that, he stood up. "Good. Now let us get back to the matter of the liberation of Dobrin."

When Ivan awoke, he found it was already late into the evening, so he joined the other officers for dinner before a man rushed in and summoned him to the headquarters. When he arrived, the guards let him pass, and Ivan entered to find his father reading over a telegram.

He put it down and turned to him. "Ah, good," he began with a smile. "Come, sit."

"You wished to see me?" Ivan asked as he sat down.

"Yes, I did," said Nikolai, dropping his smile with a deep exhale. "My son, I realize we haven't had many opportunities to speak," he began with a concerned tone. "But I wished to know how things have been?"

Ivan lowered his head, understanding his father was correct: They hadn't spoken face-to-face since the war began, and even when he was wounded, his family was too far away to see him. "To be honest, I'm not so sure," this was partially true. But the young man knew that he was not well spiritually or mentally, not since Bylowa: Even thinking about that name brought immense unease as Ivan recalled all the horrors he'd seen that day. Above the rest stood the dead gunner and when he'd received his wounds. However, he did not wish to appear weak before his father, not when he'd earned recognition for his actions and certainly not when he'd seen so many of his friends' parish that day. "But I should be fine."

"If you say so," he said, his tone unreadable. "But please, if there is anything, I'm here for you," he concluded before he shifted back, seemingly more relaxed. "Now, about today, I hope the Princess didn't scare you too much. That was a little too close for my liking."

Ivan shook his head. "No, I wasn't, at least, not that I could tell," he said, keeping his true feelings to himself. It hurt, but he thought his father would look down upon him for showing more concern for a potential enemy than his countrymen.

In response, he sighed in relief. "Good to hear."

Ivan's eyes widened in response as he stared at his father in confusion. "Huh-" he blurted out before clearing his throat. "What I meant was, I don't understand. What does it matter?" he turned away and crossed his arms.

His father snorted in response before grinning at him knowingly. "Oh, no particular reason. Only that it would prove difficult for you to get to know one another if you were."

Ivan shook his head as he recognized his father's blatant attempt at pushing him and Azula together. "Papa, we already talked about this! I hardly know her!" he shouted despite his feelings for the girl.

In response, Nikolai let loose a hearty laugh. "And why do you think I say you need to get to know her better? Hmm?" he asked with a cocked brow.

Ivan shook his head and stood up, a blush visible on his face. "If this is all we're going to discuss, then I think I'll turn in for the night," he said as he turned and stormed out of the tent, though his father didn't push him any further.

When Azula woke up, she got dressed and stepped outside, only to find the sun barely peaking over the horizon as the soldiers began making their way to their tents. Normally, she would already be going to sleep now, but as soon as she had got up, her stomach had given her a loud reminder of the fact she'd not eaten since the morning. However, as she made her way to her field kitchen to order someone to prepare her something, she glanced at a particularly bright star in the heavens she'd not noticed before. Has that always been there? After pausing for a moment, she shrugged and continued on her way.

Okay, so I know I said the last chapter is the end of the first arch, but, in truth, THIS is the end. Also, please don't forget to leave a review!