Chapter 45

The sun hung directly in the middle of the sky, signalling that it was midday, and yet in the hours that had passed since the start of their attack the Fire Nation had barely made it halfway along the courtyard.

The only reason the Fire Nation had been able to move forward at all under the barrage of ice being thrown at them was because their dead had stacked up in such numbers that they formed makeshift barriers, providing enough cover for reinforcements to be sent to the front.

Not that they did much good, as the fresh influx of troops only allowed the front lines to push forward another dozen or so feet before being forced to halt under the pressure of the incoming attacks. Six hours and thousands of lives had bought Tanya about enough ground to build a row of houses on.

The amount of red-and-black armoured corpses littering the ground was frankly ridiculous, yet still more kept popping their heads up from behind the shield wall each second. Even with so many ships, Tanya must have been packing her soldiers in like sardines to fit so many.

"It says something about the discipline used by the Fire Nation military that after a morning spent watching their comrades' lives being thrown away, their soldiers still aren't showing any signs of deserting." Master Pakku mused grimmly. "They're like docile cattle allowing themselves to be led to the slaughterhouse."

"Indeed. That's what unnerves me about this whole invasion." Chief Arnook replied. "It's like they all don't care if they die."

Pakku let out a heavy sigh. "In all my years I have never seen a sight like this. We should be celebrating: we must be taking close to a hundred lives of their lives for every one that we lose. I don't believe there's ever been a battle that has been so decisively in our favour before. Something about it feels… unnerving."

"I agree. But in the end it matters little." Arnook countered. "Begin assembling the warriors behind the gates. If they're happy to sit there bleeding troops in front of us then so be it. The moment the moon rises we'll sweep what remains of them away in one big push, and that will be the end of it."

...

With the civilians staying sheltered at home and the soldiers focusing their attention on the invading army, Zuko found sneaking through the streets of Agna Qel'a no challenge at all.

Despite how often he'd been told growing up that a prince did not skulk around in the shadows like a common thief, Zuko couldn't deny that it felt somewhat liberating whenever he got to put his stealth skills to use. It was one of the few things he could honestly say that he was as talented as Azula at.

Figures that the only thing I can do right is something that father disapproves of.

His white winter gear blended in perfectly as he darted amidst buildings made of packed snow, crouching in the shadows whenever a patrol came close. He made swift, steady progress navigating his way through the backstreets and alleys, until eventually he found himself standing outside his destination.

He pressed his fingers against the ice wall, melting handholds he could use to pull himself up, then repeated the process to steadily scramble his way up.

The moment he was over the wall Zuko could feel a change in the very atmosphere. It was pleasantly warm here: not in a dry or humid sense, but like the pools of water that formed on top of the geysers in the volcanic regions of the Fire Nation.

Yet even that description felt like it was missing something. There was a palpable energy to this place; an almost magical spark to the air that called to mind the stories Uncle had told him about the spirit world.

Zuko stalked forward, silently crossing the small field of grass towards a bridge that led deeper into the sanctuary. He could hear voices up ahead, but they didn't have the deep timbre of fully grown adults that guards would have had.

As he drew close enough to make them out more clearly one of the voices caught his attention, and his face hardened into a dark scowl. He knew that voice! For the love of the spirits, please let it not be them!

But of course, like always, the spirits were not with him.

Two girls stood at the heart of the sanctuary: one with white hair that he didn't recognise, and one with black hair that he did. It was the southern water tribe peasant who trailed after The Avatar, and who he had to grudgingly admit had helped the last airbender outfox him a couple of times now. Katara. And if she was here…

Every muscle in Zuko's body tensed, like a bloodhound spotting a rabbit, as his eyes settled upon his destined prey. Sitting cross-legged beside the pool was The Avatar, eyes and tattoos glowing, but body relaxed as if asleep.

Typical! Just typical! He'd spent years of sleepless nights trying to find The Avatar, and the one time that he would have actually liked to avoid him for just a few minutes the universe dropped him right in front of him!

His eyes flickered to the sky. The sun was beginning its final descent, bathing the world in an orange glow at it prepared to dip beneath the horizon. His time was drawing inevitably closer. There was no time left for hesitation.

Fists clenched, he strode out across the bridge, ready for a fight.

...

The moment the sun touched the horizon and the moon began to rise in its place, the warriors of the north could feel the tides of spiritual power around them changing. Strength welled up inside them: the light of the full moon charging them with celestial might. With it came an itch to use that power, to smite the invaders who dared trespass upon their homes.

A collective shudder rippled across the army assembled behind the gates of Agna Qel'a as each and every waterbender felt the strength of two men flow through their veins. Now they were invincible. On a night like this they could slay dragons, split oceans, and challenge the very spirits themselves.

So then why couldn't he shake this feeling of doom?

Pakku was not a young man. The great wealth of age was the wisdom born from experience, and he was among the wisest men in the world. Yet one lesson he'd never fully learned was when to trust his head, and when to follow his gut.

His head told him that this was the moment of victory. The Fire Nation had been foolish: so assured in their own superiority that they'd attacked during the zenith of their enemy's strength. Every history book ever written supported the theory that on the night of a full moon the water tribes could never lose. The very laws of nature favoured them at this moment.

Yet his gut counselled him otherwise. Life was hard and unforgiving, and it was often the solutions that seemed the easiest that reaped the heaviest toll. Even the most optimistic warrior could not have hoped this invasion would have gone so well for the water tribes, and yet it had.

The Fire Nation had brought an army nearly five times their size and yet had failed to even touch their city. At this rate the siege of the north would be known as the greatest military blunder in history, despite being devised by the most ruthless strategic mind the Fire Nation had this generation.

"Master Pakku, the full moon has risen." A warrior standing beside him stated. Idiot. He was old, not blind. "Shouldn't we attack?"

Logically speaking yes, they should. Yet Pakku found his gut just wouldn't let him. He couldn't quite put his finger on why exactly, but neither could he dismiss the lingering spectre of doom that prevented him from giving the order.

What harm was there in staying safe and secure behind their fortifications after all? At the rate they were going the Fire Nation was bound to run out of troops any minute now and would be forced to surrender.

"No, we won't." He sighed, waiving a hand dismissively. "Send the warriors back to their posts. We can-..."

"It's her! The devil!"

It was one of the lookouts who'd cried out, and all eyes snapped in the direction of his outstretched arm to see the light that was rising up above the outer gate like a malevolent star. Despite her short stature and the distance between them, her golden hair stood out like a torch among shadows.

The Devil of the South Sea was looking down on them.

Pakku was an old man. His blood no longer ran hot and fierce as it did with the youths of this generation. Yet that did not make him immune to the call of anger. A temper as cold as the fiercest blizzard broiled within his stomach, clouding out the warnings of his instincts in a haze of red mist.

The girl who has slain one of his oldest and dearest friends waited beyond the wall, sneering down upon him and the people that he had dedicated his life to protecting. She had murdered Jeong Jeong, and now sacrificed her own countrymen in her own vain quest for glory.

"Open the gates!" He barked, his eyes narrowing like a hawk focusing upon its prey. Behind him the warriors of the north snarled, hands gripping tightly around spears as they embraced the vigour of the moon. Forget instincts! Forget caution! A devil stood at the precipice of their city, and there was only one wise thing to do when you met a devil.

Slaughter it!

With a heavy thud the icy gates of Agna Qel'a opened, and the warriors of the north roared forwards like a flood released from a dam.

They had suffered the indignity of the Fire Nation trespassing upon their homeland while the sun shined, but with the rising of the moon it was time for the tide to rush back in a sweep the filth away from their shores.

The mere sight of their frenzied charge shattered the Fire Nation's morale, and with panicked cries their soldiers turned tail and fled back to the safety of their ships.

Yet the sight of fleeing prey only egged the water tribe warriors on even more. They swept across the icy courtyards, racing across the piles of fallen Fire Nation soldiers as they chased down their quarry.

Not for a moment did Pakku eye's leave the golden-haired demon that hovered in the distance, even as the ice and water beneath his feet twisted and churned at his passing.

That brat deserved everything coming to her and more! What hubris she had, to think that after everything she'd done, all the pain she'd caused, she could so casually show her face before them! It was almost like she was- ... she was ...

… provoking us?

...

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