Zhao

I don't know how, but I actually found myself missing the swamp.

I was already through my self-appointed daily water-ration. I could, theoretically, indulge in tomorrow's, but I was smart enough to know would be rather unwise. At least in the swamp, thirst wasn't nearly as much of an issue. Here, however, I found myself praying for sweat. It was the dryness that was tearing me apart. My skin was crumbling, my lips were cracking, and even with the sun goggles over my eyes, I had to keep them closed half the time to avoid being blinded.

"You're lucky," said one of the merchants, though I couldn't tell who on account of not being able to even open my eyes. "It's a cloudy day today. It's normally much worse."

I didn't even want to begin what "much worse" could entail. At the very least, we were mounted, not having to do the walking for ourselves. Riding atop the back of the sizeable rhinoceros beetles was an interesting experience to say the least, them actually, to my surprise, riding rather smoothly despite the multi-leg tromping that, from a distance, always came off as harsh and erratic.

Our camelephants were keeping at a comfortable distance behind the beetles, an instinctual animosity between the two beings that was only kept at bay by the merit of human intervention. Left unchecked, I had no doubt that these beetles would make short work of our mounts, tearing through them with little to no difficulty.

Luckily, such wasn't the case, and we were enabled to travel at a rather comfortable pace. We had pitched camp that night atop a sand dune, and it was only when the sun had set that I found myself able to look at the desert in its might for the first time since entering it that morning. It was a sea of sand, stationary waves spanning across the entire Earth as far as anyone standing where I was could be concerned. I no direction I looked did the sight change shift. A navy man, I was used to the feeling, but at least at sea, I was in my element. I was in control. Here, however, I felt miniscule, an ant on a dining room table just waiting to be squashed.

I knew as I stared into the horizon that there was only one thing keeping me going right now, and that was the knowledge of what was out there. As I scanned the horizon, to and fro, for what must have been the 20th time, still seeing nothing, I found my resolve in no way shaken. It's out there. I know it. And I'll find it. Nothing else mattered anymore. The key to victory in the Nip Sea, the key to fighting the waterbenders, the key to securing Victory for the Fire Nation, the key to my rise, it was all out there, just waiting for me, and I would find it.

My eyes were more adjusted when the following day came, though that wasn't saying much. Even with the goggles, I still found myself having my eyes squinted throughout nearly the entire journey, hardly even taking a moment to observe the world around me. Soon enough, I learned just how foolish a mistake that had been.

I had heard little more than a monetary yelp before it felt as though I was being showered with shards of broken glass running across the entire span of my body, the force from the blast enough to immediately knock me from where I had been seated on the mount. The rhinoceros beetle let out a horrifying shriek as it no doubt encountered the same sensation as I had, though it larger size absorbing far more pain than I had, no dangling from my straps behind it, out of momentary harm's way. It was clear enough now, my eyes were wide open.

"Sand Benders!" I heard yelled in the last second before, as though a storm had rolled in from the sky out of thin air, the space around me became enveloped in a brown midst. It was a sandstorm, and we were under attack.

I created a flame dagger, cutting through the strap connecting me to the beast, falling the last foot to the ground, next to the motionless beast, it was already dead, still standing on its own feet, its midcenter having collapsed to the ground, lifeless, gone.

I took cover behind it, trying to look around me for any sight of, well, anyone. There was none. My world was, in that moment, confined to the 5-foot radius around me, the only thing sparing me being the flesh shield I had my back to. I could feel the pain in my body, and upon inspection, it was easy enough to tell that the exposed parts of my skin, namely my hands, were covered in blood and sand, the force of the artificial sandstorm so powerful to quite nearly tear the skin right off. I grimaced, turning away, trying not to focus on that right now.

It was only a few more seconds until the storm ended, and when it did, I did not find myself being any more reassured by the sight around me. The sight of seeing a good amount of our own men alive, Harzek included, was enough to send a wave a relief through me, but then the ground began to clear some more, and I could see the dead bodies scattering the field, most of the merchants, and even one of our own. I wondered who it was, but the casualty was not, by a long shot, our primary concern.

In a circle gathered around us were nearly an entire platoon's worth of sandbenders, 4 sand skiffs accompanying them. It was an ambush. Meant for us or otherwise, we were caught damn straight in the middle of it. We were in for a fight for our lives.