Sargent Major Pavel Yaroslavich (Yaro-slav-ich) Osipov awoke early to find the sun had yet to rise. Rubbing his blurry eyes, he reached for his spectacles and put them on, clearing his vision. "Ah, that's better," he said as he took his canteen and trimmed his moustache, using his reflection for reference. Once satisfied, he brushed it before getting dressed and kissing the picture of his wife and four children. With that done, he began to read his scriptures as he waited for the assembly call that would inevitably play soon. After reading a chapter, he placed the holy book down and said a quick prayer, asking for safety and health for his family and himself, before thanking him for allowing him to be here and not in the meat grinder on the Dobrish front. Then, he took out a small wooden board and placed it on his lap before taking paper, an ink pot and a pen.
"To my Dearest Nonna, May 13th, 2019
My darling, I know I have not written to you for a week, but I wish to inform you that, despite my wounds, I have recovered. Bylowa was insanity, but now I am in a different world. Can you believe that!? We even marched before a foreign Princess and her delegation two days ago! I have seen Grand Duke Ivan with her several times now, as the two seem about the same age. There have been rumours from the officers and the men that his father wishes them to marry, though I don't know for sure. Regardless, I ask that you write to me as soon as possible, as I want to hear from you and the children. I love you, my darling, and once I go on leave, I will show you how much I do.
Signed: Your ever-faithful husband, Pasha."
After morning drills, breakfast, and formation inspection, the officers of the Zlachny Lifeguards returned to their quarters, as they considered it too hot for the standard afternoon operations. "Why does it have to be so hot!" complained Colonel Augustin Sergeievich (Ser-gay-e-vich) Alexeev as he returned to his tent, only to find someone he knew well blocking the entrance.
"And here I thought you would have enough courtesy to at least say hello to me," the man attired in the uniform of an artillery general said as he glared into eyes the same hue as his own. "How have the guards been treating you, brother?"
"And how have you been, Vasha? Still sitting back while your guns do the talking for you?" he asked sarcastically before attempting to push him out of the way to no avail.
"What is your problem?" the General replied as he grabbed his brother's arm and pushed him off. "Ever since you joined the Guards, you have sat on your high horse and acted as judge. I may be half-deaf, but my hearing is good enough to understand your petty insults."
"Perhaps I do, but you are still a disappointment! No matter how many medals you have, you are because you artillerists sit back while we fight the enemy for you! What happened to your wish to be a cavalry officer, Vassili?" Augustin asked as he pointed a finger to his chest.
The man smirked in response before shaking his head. "You and Papa are still on about that?" he asked as his brother nodded. "Well, here I was hoping to say hello, but if that is how you feel, then I shall take my leave," he said before turning and walking away.
"The nerve," Augustin said as he entered his tent and placed his kiwer on his desk before rubbing the sweat from his brow. "I shall never understand his choice to join the artillery," he grunted as he entered his tent before preparing the food for himself and his guest, Lieutenant Antonov, whom he requested join him for lunch.
Lieutenant Sergei Ivanovich Antonov had planned to rest in his tent, but after receiving an invitation from the Colonel, he was on his way to have lunch with him. When he arrived, he found the man sitting at his desk eating canned meat jelly and black rye bread with buckwheat and beef kasha. "Ah, glad to see you could join me. Come, sit," he said, gesturing to the seat opposite his desk.
"Thank you, Sir," Sergei replied as he sat down. He cut a slice of meat jelly and placed it on a piece of bread before biting it. "Hm, not bad."
In response, the Colonel smiled slightly. "Indeed, this is a good batch," he began as he continued eating.
Sergei paused. "Pardon me, Sir, but why did you call me here and not the other officers?" he asked, causing the Colonel to stop eating.
"I should think that would be obvious, seeing as you are the newest officer in the unit. I wanted to get to know you better since you aren't familiar with us," Avgustin began as he gave the Lieutenant a knowing look. "Now, tell me. Why do you think you are here?"
"Didn't you just explain that?" Sergei asked with a cocked brow.
The Colonel firmly shook his head. "No, I mean in this regiment. Why do you think you are here?" he asked again.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Sir," Sergei replied.
"Well, in that case, allow me to explain. You are here because you proved yourself on the field of battle. Of course, your father may have contacted me, but I only accepted you into the guards because you have shown great courage in the face of the enemy," he smiled as he placed a hand firmly on his shoulder before returning it. "All I can ask is that you display the same bravery you did in your old unit."
"Of course, Sir. I won't let you down," he replied with a smile as the two men returned to their meal.
Once finished, Sergei cleared his throat, as there was something he had wished to ask him for the past few days. "Sir, may I speak freely?"
The Colonel chuckled as he nodded. "But of course, my good man. What about?"
"Well, I am not sure this is my place to ask, but..." he leaned in to make it so none could hear him save Alexeev. "Are the rumours true? Does the Grand Duke truly wish for his son to marry the Fire Nation Princess?"
The Colonel's eyes widened for a moment before he took a thoughtful posture, which he assumed for the next minute in absolute silence. Then, at last, he spoke. "To be honest, I have no idea. However, I don't see why not? After all, she is a handsome little thing, to be sure. But considering what I know of people, there's something strange about her, but I'm not entirely certain," he began before turning to him and glaring. "But that is between her and the Grand Duke, so I wish to hear no more of these rumours, understood?"
"Of course, Sir," Sergei said with a nod.
The Colonel smirked in response. "Good. You may go."
Sergei took his cap, and the two stood up. "Thank you, Sir. It was a pleasure," the men shook hands before the junior officer turned and departed for his tent.
After the morning drills, Konstantin Pyotrvich Dimitriev returned to his tent and began on paperwork, only to feel light-headed as he read the names of every man under his command. The purpose: in the case of death, he could send the belongings to the affected families. Of course, he had already done this many times once he assumed the post of Major shortly after the events of Bylowa. But this was only the second time he checked the register after the losses suffered and their replacements. Among these were a fair number of officers, though this was hardly surprising, as it was expected of Ruskian officers to fight alongside their men. There were also rumours that severalMajor Generalsperished at Bylowa while leading assaults on the Kordish fortifications. Of course, he knew these rumours to be likely, as he had witnessed such acts of reckless bravery by high-ranking officers regularly. As this thought came up, Konstantin felt the pain in his head spike, and he grunted as he held it. "Ugh, my head..." The next thing he knew, his vision went dark, and he fell face-first into the stack on his desk as he began snoring.
Captain Konstantin Dimitriev quietly hummed along to the band playing behind him as his company advanced toward the artificial ridge ahead. The ground behind them pockmarked with shell holes, as the artillery had relentlessly pounded the field for the past several days where the enemy's first line of defence once lay, now used as the starting point for future attacks. Suddenly, the distant echo of cannon fire interrupted their performance, signalled by large puffs of smoke from the earthen bastion in the distance. The next thing he knew, grapeshot slammed into the ranks of his unit, leaving many mangled without arms, legs, or even heads, with blood spurting onto the uniforms of their fellows. However, where some units might allow such things to disrupt their formation, these were Ruskia's elite. So, they merely continued marching, leaving the wounded and dead for the medics while they closed the gaps left by the fallen. If one were to look on at the pitiful scene, one would likely rebuke the soldiers for their callousness in leaving the wounded begging for succour yet providing none. But this was war, and in war, there was no time for such luxuries. Or at least, that is what he told himself as he kept his eyes forward, avoiding looking upon the blood sullying his uniform or the man attempting to grasp at his feet.
Soon, the Ruskian artillery answered back, with a volley of shells slamming into the barrier hastily created to prevent the projectiles from landing on top of the bastion. However, after blocking five, the sixth smashed through the magic shield like glass, shattering it as it plunged into the escarpment before exploding. Seeing their chance, the Major signalled for them to increase their pace, only to receive a hail of gunfire from the earthen fort. Again, cries and screams broke out as men fell to the ground, their bodies convulsing as the enchanted bullets of the Kordish buried themselves in their flesh and began to burn them alive. Ahead of him, Konstantin watched in horror as the Major was struck several times before collapsing forward as he dropped his sword. Turning to his right, he watched as the young Grand Duke Ivan continued urging his men forward, blood coating his face and his eyes narrowed in rage. Never had Konstantin seen the young teen angry, and it truly frightened him to see one so young adapt to such a horrid circumstance. Taking inspiration from the young Lieutenant, he turned and shouted at the top of his lungs. "FORWARD SOLDIERS! FOR THE TSAR!"
As one, the soldiers climbed through the gaps created by the artillery, and he found himself amid a melee, with bayonets, swords and rifles used as clubs with the occasional shot fired into the crowd. Soon after, Konstantin lost sight of the Grand Duke as he hacked through great-coat-clad Kordish infantry and the gunners in their distinctive blue. At the same time, he used his revolver whenever the opportunity presented itself. Konstantin quickly used all six rounds and had to rely only on his spadroon, which was poorly suited to such close quarters, with men on every side restricting his movement. But the minutes dragged on, and only after one of his men cut down a Kordish officer after smashing his head open did their morale brake, and the enemy began to surrender in mass or attempt to flee. Konstantin's appearance could not have been more dishevelled than it was, as blood covered him from his face to his feet while also losing his kiwer in the fighting. Miraculously, he had made it through completely unscathed, and for that, he couldn't have been more thankful.
Only after returning to camp when his battalion was relieved by a unit of conscripts did he learn of the Grand Duke's injury, and he rushed to see him. Upon entering the tent, he was suddenly transported to a field of dead flowers, staring in horror at the form of Grand Duke Ivan slowly falling backward. Konstantin felt himself go through a loop as he realized he was holding the smoking gun; his thumb cocked the hammer while someone cackled behind him. He tried to stop himself, but for some reason, he couldn't, and he fired a second time despite his futile protests.
Konstantin awoke with a cold sweat, his hands trembling as he looked at them to ensure he wasn't holding his revolver, only to sigh in relief. "Uh, just a daydream," he said as he shook his head before folding his arms and praying for comfort. When he finished, he felt better, and Konstantin took a swig of his water can to cool his headache. "Ah, that's better. Now, back to work," he said with a sigh as he started fixing his desk. Upon finding the picture of his wife and children, he kissed it before returning to the registry.
It was a fine summer day, and Lieutenant General Baron Jan Haller smiled as he listened to his soldiers sing on their way to the train station in Włocłabin (Votswabin) as he rode ahead on his proud white steed. As he entered the town, people cheered and threw flowers at him, his staff and the column of marching men following behind them. Smiles adorned their faces as they waved the crimson flag of Dobrin, adorned as always with the white eagle as the soldiers marched past to the sound of drums.
"Nie nosim wyłogów i szary nasz strój,
Nie noszą ni srebra, ni złota,
Lecz w pierwszym szeregu podąża na bój
Piechota, ta szara piechota."
"Maszerują strzelcy, maszerują,
Karabiny błyszczą, szary strój,
A przed nimi drzewa salutują,
Bo za naszą Dobskę idą w bój!"
The soldiers sang solemnly while the people believed they were off to the front. In truth, they were on their way to Ruskia to link up with the 1st Magyar division and the 1st Bulgariyan division. The reason was to reinforce Grand Duke Nikolai in some far-flung world, as spelled out in the message the General received that morning. Of course, as one would imagine, Jan Haller was none too pleased about this, but he was in no position to remand the order, as the Dobrish, like many of the allied nations, relied almost solely on Ruskia for equipment. So, Jan would bite his pride, at least, for now. However, that did not mean he had to hide his displeasure from the Grand Duke once he arrived. "At least we don't have to walk, right Sir?" whispered one of his commanders sarcastically as the others shook their heads. Haller acknowledged that this was true, as the other divisions would have to march for two days at least before they could reach a train. But, thankfully, since Ruskia's main offensive required them to push through Dobrin, they had built-up the rail network far more swiftly than on the other fronts.
Soon they arrived at the plain, open-air station, where they found a pair of fresh trains, each consisting of two dozen cars, crowded by disembarking Ruskians, hauling horses and ammunition out of the cars as the officers and conductors attempted to clear the platforms as quickly as possible. However, with the sheer number of them, Jan understood it would likely be some time before he could embark. He checked the time on his watch. "Two-thirty," he began with a sigh as he stowed it back in his uniform. "Well, at least we were on time."
"Messieurs !" (Sirs!) shouted a man in Ruskian accented Vusonian as he rushed up to them. "Mes excuses pour le retard, mais je vous assure que nous aurons les trains prêts pour le départ dans une demi-heure au plus tard !" (My apologies for the delay, but I assure you that we will have the trains ready for departure in half an hour at the latest!) He said as he came to a halt before them and caught his breath.
Considering his tailored black, yellow piped uniform and wide cap, Jan knew this man to be a man of the Ruskian rail and telegraph service. "Compris. Je te remercie," (Understood. Thank you) he replied with a wave of his hand.
"Bien sur monsieur. Dois-je aller chercher quelqu'un pour prendre vos chevaux ?" (Of course, Sir. Should I go get someone to take your horses?) He asked politely.
Jan nodded his head. "Oui s'il te plaît," (Yes, please) he said as the man saluted him before swiftly heading back the way he came. "Well, at least we shouldn't have to wait much longer," he whispered as his column continued toward the train station.
When the appointed time arrived, team avatar quickly set to work putting their plan into action. First, Sokka snuck into the servant's quarters and, already prepared with his disguise, got to work with the other servants serving the vast quantities of food. Then, Aang, Katara, and Toph set out after getting dressed in the most fashionable attire they had on hand, which was surprisingly up to standard, as the house Ju Dee provided them with already came stocked with high fashion for all of them.
Once they arrived, Toph and Katara told the guards their cover story while Aang acted as their crazy grandpa, and an Earth Kingdom official helped them get inside. "Thank you so much for helping us," said Katara as formally as she could while the man walked ahead.
"Please, think nothing of it, Miss. Though I am afraid I must leave you," he replied before they lost him in the crowd of nobles.
"Okay, we're in. Now where's Sokka?" Katara whispered to the others as she took a glance around the room. In the center stood a large table, with a great big furry beast at the head of it surrounded by nobles, while bust-boys and female servants made their rounds serving the guests not at the table refreshments. Suddenly, she nearly jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned to see it was a disguised Sokka.
"Would you care for a sweet roll, my lady?" he asked exaggeratedly.
In response, Katara glared at her brother, and Aang quickly snatched one. "Why thank you, young man," he said with his mouth full.
Toph sighed as she delicately took one. "Any sign of the Earth King yet?" she whispered.
Sokka shook his head. "Not yet. But maybe we should split up?"
Toph was about to shake her head when she felt people beginning to gather at a certain point in the room. "Wait, I think something's going on."
"What do you-" Sokka paused as he turned and barely spotted the silhouette of a palanquin over the heads of the crowd. "There. It has to be the Earth King," he said as quietly as he could while the group quickly waded into the crowd. However, before they got any further, Aang and Katara felt someone pull on their sleeves, and they turned to find Ju Dee with a nervous look on her face.
"What are you doing here? It is forbidden," she warned as her eyes darted around and sweat started pooling down her face, all while she held her grin.
Turning to address her, Sokka prepared his retort while attempting to pull his friends free of her grasp. "We need to see the Earth King!" he shouted.
Suddenly, Ju Dee's grip failed as her face went pale, and Aang and Katara came free, only for the group to fall into the grasp of several men in dark green robes and conical hats topped with brass spikes and green tassels. They tried to struggle, only for the men to bind them with earthen hands and drag them through a hole in the wall. After an unknown period, the group felt themselves land unceremoniously on the floor and heard a door shut behind them as their bindings came loose. Getting up, they undid the blindfolds the men put on them and turned to find themselves in a small office lit by a green fireplace. "Welcome, Avatar. Please, have a seat," said a familiar voice, and they turned to see the same official that let them in sitting by the fireplace. He was average height, with blading black hair and beady green eyes with a thinly trimmed mustache and beard. They also noticed he wore a similar robe to those worn by the men who'd taken them. Only his was more elaborate.
"Why have you taken us?" Katara asked as the group sat across from him on a couch, and she helped Aang get on.
The man shook his head. "You have offended our customs. One does not simply walk into my city and demand to meet with the King," he said with an air of authority as he continued to glare.
Toph glared at him. "What do you mean: "My city?" she questioned.
"The Earth King is deeply involved with internal matters and keeping the peace, which I have fought to maintain. Yet you four have made every attempt to upend the delicate balance I have in place," he said, his face grim and his tone emotionless.
"You mean he's your puppet!" accused Katara as she pointed at him.
"No matter what, we will see the King!" bellowed Sokka as Aang rubbed his leg, aching from all the commotion.
Again, the official shook his head. "I am afraid that will not be possible. Now-"
"Wait," Aang interrupted as the official paused. "Do you know what happened two nights ago?" he asked.
The man adopted a thoughtful posture as he considered what the avatar had asked. "I am aware of your injury. But I don't quite know what happened. Would you care to enlighten me?"
Aang turned to his friends, who all shook their heads, but Aang sighed before again facing the man. "Okay, but first, who are you?"
In response, the man cocked a slight smirk. "Where are my manners? I am Long Feng, head of the Dai Li and Grand Secretariat of Ba Sing Se," he explained as he leaned forward in interest. "Now, what exactly happened?"
Hey everyone! I'm sorry for the delay. But I promise that this story will continue.
Thank you all so much for the support, as I see your favourites and follows, and this only encourages me to keep writing. Also, please don't forget to leave a review, as I always appreciate what my audience has to say!