Ashes of Devotion [ATLA - Azula x OC]

[Lucernello]

96 AG

The sky was already choked with ash when the first fireball landed. Jian flinched as the heat tore into the front line ahead of him, dirt and flame vomiting into the air, pieces of armor and bodies tossed about like broken toys.

His ears rang from the blast, and through the haze, he could hear the screaming, someone wailing, or the sound of someone else, coughing blood. He didn't know their names, he hadn't been here long enough to learn them.

A week ago, he'd been transporting supplies near Gaoling. Then came the draft orders. "We need spearmen at the front." the officer said. "Just hold the line, the benders will do the hard work."

Now he stood in a line of lancers, his palms slick on the wooden shaft of his spear. He hadn't even stabbed anything with it yet. Another fireball arced overhead and although it didn't land near him, he still flinched as if it had. Sweat and fire stung his cheek. A man beside him was curled into a ball, sobbing.

"Stand up, damn you!" the officer barked from behind. "The next one that breaks ranks will be buried!"

Jian forced himself to look in ahead. He shouldn't be here, he thought. In fact, none of them should; this wasn't a fair fight.

Another burst of flame illuminated his face, and he heard yells from the enemy soldiers. The Fire Nation army began charging them. A man ahead of him was hit square in the chest, and Jian saw him fly backward, crashing into the earth, flames still clinging to what remained of his uniform.

His stomach turned, and he dropped to one knee and vomited into the dirt. The stench of burned flesh mixed with bile in his nose.

"Get up, come on. Just get up." he muttered.

A horn sounded in the distance, signaling Earth Kingdom orders, their line had to move forward. Jian, still dizzy, pushed into the chaos. Fire Nation troops were ahead already engaged with earth benders, dressed in their blood-red armor, pushing through their defenses.

A soldier charged him with a short sword. Jian panicked, thrust his spear, and felt it strike something soft. The Fire Nation soldier's breath hitched; Jian's weapon had pierced clean through his chest.

The soldier crumpled and Jian stood over him, panting. Blood trickled down the shaft of the lance, warm on his knuckles, making his hands shake as his knees buckled.

"I… I killed him." he whispered.

The chaotic sounds of the battlefield dimmed as shock took hold of him, his hands were shaking, and for a moment he didn't have the strength to pull his spear out of the now-dead soldier. Once he managed he tried his best to focus, he needed to clear his mind if he wanted to survive.

The sounds slowly returned and screams and moans filled his head, the clashes of swords and armor as well.

A burst of light flashed to his right, he turned and dodged just in time. He searched for his attacker but instead was met with a confusing and terrifying sight.

A girl, barely older than his little sister, walked through the battlefield as if taking a stroll through a quiet courtyard. Her black armor gleamed, flecked with soot and blood. Both her arms were metal, with spikes on their sides. Her hair made her stand out, as if it had lost color somehow, a mixture between black, white and ashen color.

As she began her attack, her arms lit with fire and her metal limbs glowed red as she took down bender after bender in a terrifying display of power.

Her movements were clean, surgical, and without flair. She didn't throw wild arcs or dance like some of the other firebenders around her.

There were no unnecessary flames being thrown around. She tore through a group of earth benders, with precision and brutality.

With a low kick followed by a quick jab, she killed the closest one to her, the soldier falling to the ground with smoke rising from his body. Then, she followed it up with another burst of flame aimed at the head of the soldier beside his fallen comrade. Jian was only a witness to the carnage she was inflicting as she advanced. And she was getting closer.

Jian stared as she moved closer to him; she wasn't even breathing hard. Her face was unreadable. She wore prosthetics on her hands, smoke rising behind her as if her back was on fire.

"She´s a monster…" he whispered.

His commanding officer screamed for a charge. Jian clutched his spear, pointed it forward, and braced himself. As her gaze found him, fear struck his body like a boulder. For a moment, he thought he saw something human behind those golden eyes, but the moment passed quickly and he knew that she was coming for him as she moved.

Her metal arm swept out, catching his spear mid-thrust and shattering it like dry wood. Before Jian could even gasp, her leg shot upward in a flash of motion, striking his chest and throwing him backward. Pain took hold of him as he landed hard on his ass. As he looked up to plead for his life to the spirits he only saw her fist aimed at him.

A blinding white and yellow flash covered his view quickly followed by darkness. Then there was nothing.
​

---

The battlefield was quiet now, smoke curled lazily over broken stone and scorched grass. The fires still crackled, stubbornly clinging to whatever wood or cloth hadn't yet crumbled to ash. The sky remained overcast, streaked with trails of soot drifting up from the wreckage. Lin moved through it like a shadow, her steps steady and her breathing even.

A wounded Earth Kingdom soldier whimpered at her feet, one leg twisted under him, the other burnt black. He looked up at her and tried to speak, but his mouth trembled instead. She stared at him for a moment, then drew her arm back and punched downward. Fire flared and the body stilled, peace in death.

They didn't have the supplies to take prisoners and her orders were clear. She turned and walked on, steam rising faintly from the plating of her limbs. Her arms had gone red again after the continuous fights, glowing faintly near the joints. The heat vents along her spine hissed as she moved, but there was still more to do.

She found one of her own lying face down near a shattered stone outcrop. His armor had been torn open, and blood pooled beneath him. Lin didn't speak; she knew he was still alive. She knelt, slid one arm beneath his back, the other beneath his knees, and lifted him.

Her prosthetics bore the weight easily, even as the blood soaked into her sleeves. She moved without rush, stepping over corpses and shattered spears as she carried him toward the nearest triage tent. A medic looked up in surprise as she approached.

"He's still breathing." she said simply.

The medic nodded and gestured for the cot. Lin laid the soldier down, turned, and walked out without another word. There was no need to rest. The limbs didn't tire, and neither did she. By midday, the battlefield had been cleared of the wounded and the dying.

Most of her company had regrouped near the ridge, counting the dead. The commanding officer had not returned. She was standing alone when the courier arrived.

"Captain Sui was confirmed dead on the southern flank." the young soldier reported, bowing quickly. "You're the highest-ranking officer remaining in Red Company, First Lieutenant."

Lin's gaze didn't shift. "I understand. I will take command." she said.

The soldier hesitated. "Should I… inform the major of your status?"

"Do it."

He nodded and ran off. She stood a moment longer, glancing over the rows of tents, the scattered remains of the camp and the quiet of the aftermath. Then, she turned and walked to her new post.

In the officer's tent, she retrieved a clean scroll and brush from the corner of the desk and sat to write.

Father, I require a trainer. My command has been confirmed over Red Company. Although they were trained to intimidate, the current formation lacks coordination. Send someone efficient, experienced, and loyal. The Fire Nation deserves better soldiers than these.

She signed it with her name and family motto, then rolled the scroll tight and sealed it with wax. A young runner waited outside the tent. She handed him the message and told him where to send it. He bowed and ran without speaking, probably off to find a hawk master.

Lin watched him go, her golden eyes narrowed against the sun still obscured by smoke. She would need to reinforce the flanks tomorrow. Reassign scouts and test discipline levels in the second and third squads. Too many had broken formation under pressure.

She needed better weapons for them, ones that wouldn't melt in the first heat wave of firebending. The fact that her own soldiers couldn't deal with deserters should it come to that, bothered her. She catalogued everything in her mind. Every weakness as well as every opportunity.

When she returned to the center of camp, the soldiers of Red Company straightened as she passed. A few stared, some saluted, yet no one spoke. One of the newer ones, barely older than a recruit, whispered to another.

"That's our new captain? What happened to her hair?"

Lin paused, her eyes flicking toward them. The soldier paled and looked away, so she said nothing and kept walking. There was still so much to do.
​

---

Her promotion was a quiet affair. Lin, now captain of the Red Company, an expanded unit with 100 soldiers instead of the regular 80, had improved their chances in the following weeks after the attack. The reinforced company had a few recruits who needed molding.

The tutor sent by her father had shaped the company into an elite unit alright. She wanted to make it the best and deadliest company of the northern assault force, and she had requested a training period where her company wouldn't be assigned missions. It had naturally been approved. The last couple of months had been for grueling training and had given her plenty of time to familiarize herself with the men under her command.

Now they had been called to join the front lines again. She knew everyone was ready for the task. She had made sure to give them their best chances of survival. The briefing tent stank of sweat and burnt parchment.

Three companies had gathered under the command of Major Han, who stood at the center of the map table with his hands behind his back. His armor was polished, but the lacquer on the shoulders was cracked. His voice was clipped, but not calm.

Lin stood in silence at the edge of the room, her arms folded behind her. Her company stood farther back, still and silent. She didn't speak until spoken to.

"The enemy has encamped along the riverbed north of here." Han said, gesturing to a black ink circle on the map. "They've dug in with earthbenders at the front, but their supply lines remain vulnerable. We'll encircle them before noon and break through the southern barricade once the sun is highest."

Lin studied the plan and her first impression was that it looked like a textbook strategy, which would make it predictable for the enemy.

"Major." she said.

Han stopped mid-sentence and turned to her, one brow raised.

"If I may..." she continued, "A forward strike tonight would reduce their morale. A commander dead in his tent creates panic. I have soldiers trained for night operations. No bending or noise. It will give our men a complete advantage."

The other captains looked uneasy. Han's eyes narrowed.

"You would assassinate their leader before battle?" he asked.

"Yes." Lin said.

"And what glory is there in murdering a man while he sleeps?"

She said nothing, not really understanding what he meant. 'Isn't glory won by accomplishing victory?' she thought. Major Han scoffed, shaking his head as he looked back at the table.

"You have no honor, girl. Maybe that's how they train officers in the Renshi household, but here no one under my banner would take part in that. If you want to fight like a bandit, go alone."

Lin gave a single nod. "As you command, Major."

"I don't know what Renshi was thinking, not only making you look like a tool out of a forge but acting like one." Han waved her off with a mutter under his breath, and returned to the map.

She didn't care what he called her. Honor was a word men used when they had time to waste, when their own glory was praised above their own soldiers' lives. Besides, even if no one volunteered to go with her, she did not need help.

That night the moon hung thin and pale above the camp. The wind carried only the scent of smoldering trees and river mud. Lin and two others moved through the underbrush in silence, each step measured and deliberate. The armor over her limbs had been darkened with soot, the metal coated with a thin film of ash and cloth.

The two officers who followed refused to be left behind, and although the major had said to go alone, he hadn't specifically made the order for the rest of the officers to stand down. They just had to move through the camp in silence, doing their best not to grab the attention of the few sentries who would be actually paying attention.

To be honest, Lin knew it would be easy. The Earth Kingdom was used to regular tactics, they knew most Fire Nation officers loved to confront their enemies head on, and would not resort to a night attack unless there was no other choice.

She spotted two guards on the outer perimeter, their torches low. They weren't alert of course, they were just bored. She gave a command with a few hand signals, and they moved quickly.

The first fell without a sound, a strike to the throat, and a blade drawn across. Her officers were trained efficiently, and she could see why, no unnecessary movement from the lieutenant. The second turned just as she stepped behind him, but it was too late.

His mouth opened, but nothing came out before the dagger sliced his neck. Just a whisper of gurgling was heard, not enough to wake anyone. By the time they reached the commander's tent, she had counted three more guards and seven patrols, although it mattered little. They hadn't seen them, so there was no use killing them at all.

The flap was open, and the man inside was asleep. He looked younger than she expected, with his beard not fully grown and his armor beside the bed, unworn. She briefly wondered if he was just a noble posing as a Colonel, there were lots of those in the Fire Nation as well. Most of those never stayed long in field command, and moved to High command in a short time.

She approached without hesitation, her blade was quick. One strike to the neck. One to the chest. Once he was dead, she forced the blade deeper into the neck of the now corpse, with enough effort, the head rolled free. She caught it in one arm, still warm and threw it to one of her officers who smirked back at her.

"I know just what to do with this." He whispered.

By dawn, their work would be discovered, if not earlier. The head sat on a wooden stake in the center of the enemy camp, blood soaking the dirt beneath it.

They returned before morning drums sounded. While the other two officers went to clean themselves and their armor, Lin didn't bother. She wanted Major Han to think it was just her, she didn't want to risk the lieutenants receiving punishment.

As she made her way to the command tent, the soldiers guarding it were shocked to see the small girl covered in dirt and blood. She liked that look on them.
​

---

The smell of coffee was the first thing that greeted him when Han woke up, the bitter scent mingling with damp canvas and the lingering smoke from last night's fires. But also something else lingered between those scents, something foul.

His joints ached as he pushed himself up, the cold seeping through his armor as he had fallen asleep with it on accidentally and now he was dreading giving the order to attack today. His eyes were still gritty from restless sleep.

He blinked and saw her there, standing by the tent entrance, silent, hands clasped behind her back, armor still dark with soot and stained with dried blood. Her hair caught a beam of pale dawn light, the scorched white strands stark against the black steel, and her golden eyes watching him without a hint of impatience.

For a moment, he didn't know what to say; she shouldn't have been here this early. He had given her the impossible task of going alone to the enemy camp at night. Surely, evenly if she was successful she would be gone for the morning. It seemed the day gave no such mercies.

Captain Lin stepped forward, saluted him, then set a table in front of him. There she placed a steaming cup of coffee, the liquid rippling from the slight tremor in her metal fingers as she released it. She stepped back without a word, standing straight, waiting.

Han reached for the cup, his eyes never leaving her, taking a slow sip, letting the heat wake him fully before he finally spoke.

"You're here early."

"Yes, Major." she answered, her voice as calm as always.

She didn't elaborate, so he set the cup down, the silence stretching, the sounds of the waking camp outside filling the gaps between them, the clash of weapons, the bark of orders and the shuffle of feet in mud. Finally, she spoke, breaking the silence, her words measured and clear.

"The head of the enemy commander was placed in the center of their camp, their soldiers woke to see it. Scout reports say some fled during the first few sunrays, others were in disarray, their lines will be weakened when you move against them at noon, sir."

Han's hand froze halfway to the cup, his mind catching up with her words, a cold weight settling in his stomach, as he paused to focus on her. Finally, he could identify the foul smell from before to what his eyes were looking at. A bitter metallic scent hung around her, it smelled like copper and something riper, like old sweat soaked into metal.

The blood on her chest plate had dried into a flaking crust, but the smell hadn't faded. It clung to her, a scent of rust, leather, and a faint whiff of butchered meat left too long in the sun. Han had been in a few battlefields already, he knew what that smelled like.

"You… did it."

"Yes."

"Alone." he added.

She didn't correct him, but she didn't confirm it either. He remained silent, watching for a flicker of expression, but there was nothing, only the soft hiss of her breath through the vents in her back, which always unnerved him. With a grim thought, he wondered how a family could experiment with their own child like that?

Han's jaw tightened, he looked down at the table, the black circle on the map where the enemy had camped now meant nothing, it would be red soon, their lines shattered, and it was because of her, because she did what he could never ask of any soldier, something for which he had mocked her for suggesting.

His stomach turned with the memory of his words yesterday, the way he had dismissed her, the way he had accused her of having no honor. His own close officers after she was gone had warned him about doing such a thing again, as there was a rumour that her brother was a highly skilled assassin who was used recently to kill off an entire noble family that had spoken against the firelord's new invasion policies and it all had been made to look like an accident.

If those rumours had reached the front, then they were probably half-truths, but he now had a new fear worse than dying on the battlefield. Dishonored and killed by his own allies was far worse after all.

As he looked at her standing there, the dawn light catching the steam rising from her limbs, he saw the truth of it, she didn't care about honor, and she was both merciless and ruthless towards anyone she considered an enemy. He didn't want to become one of them, even though in appearance she was no more than a weird-looking teenager.

"Good job. Dismissed." he said, voice low, almost a whisper, but she heard him clearly, nodded once, turned sharply and left the tent without a word.

Han sat down heavily, his hands gripping the edges of the table, staring at the map, the ink lines, the small figurines marking positions that no longer mattered. Outside, the camp stirred as soldiers prepared to move, the banners of the Fire Nation catching the morning breeze, red against the gray sky.

He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the rough stubble on his chin, the exhaustion sinking deeper into his bones as he thought about the reports he would have to submit.

"She's just a girl." he muttered to himself, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn't true.

She was clearly built as a weapon for the Fire Nation, shaped with steel, fire, and discipline, something terrifying. As he stood, he paused, looking at the corner of the tent where the dawn light had already faded, remembering the way she had looked standing there, silently waiting without making a sound.

He hadn't stopped to think now how long she had been staring at him through the night. A chill ran down his spine as he imagined going through the same fate as the enemy she had killed.

"I need to add this to my report to the general. I'm sure he will inform the Fire Lord about it."

The problem was that there was a chance high command would want to reward her instead of making sure she didn't retain command at all. A terrifying notion if she were given more praise instead.

There were already too many officers in the Fire Nation army who were monsters, and the Fire Lord seemed invested in giving them more chances of promotion, like what happened with Captain Zhao after assaulting Jasmine Island. He received a promotion for attacking a neutral island that held no economic value anymore as almost all trade had already halted in the region already and praise for his ruthless methods.

He would have to tread carefully with what he reported.​

 

[Lucernello]

96 AG

The wind had quieted, but the stench of scorched fabric, charred wood, and blood clung stubbornly to the air. Lin walked across the battlefield with measured steps, her boots sinking into a mixture of ash and upturned soil, surrounded by the low murmur of soldiers moving debris, lifting the wounded, and stabilizing the perimeter.

The work continued as it always did once the fires died down, a pattern rehearsed too many times already, though each repetition still tested the limits of patience. Medics moved swiftly around her, guided by discipline and routine, though more than once she caught glimpses of them tending not to their own, but to men clad in green.

Earth Kingdom soldiers, faces drawn with pain and ash, were being offered water, pressure bandages, and what little salve remained from their supply carts. Lin stopped beside one of them. He was an older man, slumped against a shattered boulder, one eye swollen shut, his ribs shifting with each shallow breath, and she watched without comment as a Fire Nation healer gently examined a gash running from shoulder to hip.

She didn't interrupt, nor did she speak to the medic. She decided to voice her disapproval with complete silence, carefully buried beneath a still expression. These were enemy soldiers who had stood on the other side of the line not two hours ago, launching rock volleys, setting ambushes, and cutting down Fire Nation lives without hesitation.

And now, by Han's orders, they were to be preserved and healed. The major had ordered them to be taken as prisoners and to have them secured. The wounded, regardless of allegiance, were to be treated with the same urgency as their own.

Lin understood orders well enough, and she followed them outwardly because doing otherwise would defy the chain of command and by transitivity the Fire Nation. But the logic behind them grated at her sense of utility.

Every minute spent on enemy survivors was a minute lost in tending to the equipment, replenishing ammunition, or even tending to their own men and preparing for the next inevitable skirmish.

Every ration consumed by an Earth Kingdom prisoner was a meal denied to a loyal soldier still standing. It wasn't sentimentality that irritated her, of course; it was the waste of limited resources. The Fire Nation did not bleed its way through half a continent only to chain itself with unnecessary mercy.

She moved on without further pause, letting her presence drift through the ranks as she made her way to the center of the clearing where her company had already begun erecting tents and reinforcing their position without waiting for instruction.

The Red Company rarely needed spoken orders anymore. They followed her rhythm well, and they had been trained to move with a precision born of discipline and loyalty. Delegating to her lieutenants proved to be quite effective; they already knew what her response would be, and if they needed clarification, they would often ask. Something that was becoming less of an occurrence as the company gained experience in battle.

Beyond the ridge to the east, the landscape still smoldered where Zigan's outposts had crumbled beneath coordinated firebomb strikes. Blackened watchtowers stood like broken teeth along the riverbank, and the faint lines of collapsed walls painted the valley with the memory of the enemy's last stand.

Major Han had stood with her earlier, speaking in measured tones about the campaign's next phase, explaining how Zigan would serve as a central hub for the Fire Nation's new strategy. No longer content to hold the western shores, they would now push eastward in full, forming colonies as they advanced and leaving behind small garrisons to maintain supply lines and secure the countryside.

Lin had said little in response, though her thoughts had been far from still. In theory, the plan appeared sound. Establishing footholds, cutting the land into manageable districts could potentially in the long term produce more resources, but in practice, it meant spreading their forces thin across a vast and volatile region.

Each garrison left behind would be another crack in the armor, another opportunity for rebellion to take root. The Earth Kingdom was not broken yet, even after a hundred years, it had been scattered, but not yet crushed. The true powers of the enemy, Omashu to the south and Ba Sing Se to the east, still stood untouched. They still held an organized army and a capable resistance force.

If they truly meant to win the war, or at least force peace talks, then it was not these scattered villages that demanded their attention but the great bastions that continued to hold the heart of the continent. Han spoke of consolidation and permanence, but Lin saw only delay, the slow grind of bureaucracy pushing forward with the illusion of progress.

She would rather burn straight through to the core, cut the head from the beast before it could learn to grow new limbs. Once these cities fell, the rest of the kingdom would surely surrender to Fire Nation rule, maybe through puppet governments, but they could be slowly brought to fire nation standards.

As she reached the crest of the ridge, she allowed her gaze to drift over the remains of the battlefield. The ground below looked like a canvas of ruin, blackened furrows where fire had swept across formations, shattered weapons half-buried in earth and bodies locked in their final positions. The colors had blurred now, for red and green had long since stopped mattering in death.

From behind her, cutting through the low murmur of the cleanup crews, came a sudden, sharp cry of pain, raw, unmistakably human and far too near. Sighing, she turned without hesitation, already altering her course to move toward the sound.

If they were an enemy soldier, she would put him out of his misery but if it was an ally, she had a duty to try and keep them alive or, at the very least, assure them that their deaths were not in vain and that she would carry their last words to their family members.
​

---

She found him near the shattered edge of a supply cart, his blood smeared across the wood in streaks that had begun to dry. His uniform was soaked through at the side, the fabric clinging dark and heavy to a wound that pulsed with each ragged breath.

His hand trembled as he tried to press against it, fingers slipping each time he applied pressure, the pain leaving his face pale beneath streaks of ash. It was one of her soldiers in the end, and although they were trained to endure she could see his wound was severe.

Lin knelt beside him, brushing aside the broken plank that pinned his leg. His eyes met hers for only a moment before closing again, the tension in his jaw clear even as his voice came low, and cracked.

"It's no use… Captain… J-just end it… please. Let me die without…suffering."

She didn't answer as her fingers worked quickly, unfastening the buckles of his armor and peeling it away with care, revealing the torn flesh underneath. The gash ran deep, just beneath the ribs where an earthbender's stone had torn through the plating. It was a kill wound if left alone, but he wasn't dead yet.

"You will not die here, corporal." she said flatly, not as reassurance, but as instruction. "You will return to duty in time, and you will recover to fight another battle. Your name will be recorded in the campaign archives, and your children will say it aloud when they're taught how this war was won."

He only grunted in response, seemingly disappointed that his suffering wouldn't end quickly, perhaps he didn't believe her. It mattered little to her. She was never someone to waste more words explaining. She was convinced her soldier was going to live through this as much as she was convinced the Fire Nation would triumph.

She cut a piece of his cloth armor and bundled it together on one of her hands, with practiced control, she focused her chi, drawing it down into her other metal hand until it burned hot white, illuminating the wound in flickering light. She closed said hand and a fire blade spurred. She moved quickly and secured his body with her knees. The soldier stirred, then tensed as realization dawned.

"Bite on this." she said simply.

"Captain…wai-" the soldier was cut off as the bundle of cloth was placed in his mouth.

She then pressed the fire blade to the wound in a single, decisive motion while holding his shoulder with her other hand. His body arched as the pain flooded through him, the scream caught somewhere in his throat before dissolving into unconsciousness. The wound turned from red to purple to black, quickly cauterizing the wound and stopping the bleeding.

Lin snuffed the blade, shocking the heat from her hand to cool it off. The corporal passing out was not ideal, but she supposed losing a lot of blood and adding more pain to it could do that to any man.

With no hesitation, she pulled him over her shoulders, rising with the full weight of his body across her back. Her boots shifted slightly as she adjusted, then she carried him toward the medical tent without a word.
​

---

The scent of sulfur still clung to the valley, even as the winds shifted and carried most of the smoke toward the river. Major Han stood near the command post, reviewing the charcoal-streaked maps spread across the crate that now served as a planning table.

A courier stood nearby, waiting silently, still catching his breath from the sprint between hills. The message he carried confirmed the scattered reports they had received since midday an Earth Kingdom battalion had been spotted falling back toward the eastern cliffs, pushing through the forest in what appeared to be a disorganized retreat. They had not expected such a large group to remain unaccounted for after the last skirmish.

Han dismissed the runner with a nod and took a long breath through his nose, eyes scanning the map once more. The report changed their posture entirely. If those remnants made it across the narrow divide between the northwestern corridor and the interior provinces, the Fire Nation would be forced to fight for this ground all over again in a matter of months.

It wasn't a full army anymore, but it was large enough to reinforce one of the deeper bastions or worse, disappear into the forests and harass their supply lines for the next year. The river crossing had to be cut off before they regrouped.

He turned his gaze toward the Red Company encampment below the ridge. They had moved quickly after the last push, setting up a proper perimeter with the sort of order most field units lacked after such heavy fighting.

Their discipline was not the product of traditional schooling or noble bloodlines, but rather that of the raising Renshi family. It was then forged under the command of the young captain, who now moved steadily across the clearing, a wounded soldier slung across her back, her posture rigid even under the strain.

Han watched her for a moment longer before stepping away from the map and descending the slope toward her camp. By the time he reached the outer tents, she was already returning from the medical line, her hands blackened with soot, and cloth tied around one wrist where blood had soaked through.

"Major." she said, acknowledging his presence with a nod but little else. He had grown used to that.

"You'll be moving east." Han said, not wasting time with preamble.

"Intelligence confirms two broken enemy companies pushing through the woods near the basin. They're trying to reach the river and link up with reinforcements headed for the territories close to Ba Sing Se, and we cannot allow that to happen."

She said nothing, merely shifted her weight to her back leg, with arms behind her.

"You'll move within the hour, track their retreat path, and harass them constantly. Disrupt their movement, deny them water, bleed them out if possible, but don't engage in a full push until you've cut off their retreat. We'll dispatch reinforcements from the western flank once they've resupplied. Until then, your mission is to hold them there so that they don't escape."

The expected reaction of either bravado, irritation, or even complaint at the mission did not come. There was just silent acknowledgement, her eyes already calculating what needed to be done and which way to do it best. Han knew that she had likely already decided how she would execute the mission before he finished speaking.

It was that clarity that made her so effective. And yet, there was something in her that left him unsettled. He had commanded ruthless men before, driven, merciless, even cruel. But Lin was something different altogether.

Her methods were not fueled by ambition or bloodlust, and he could not accuse her of recklessness. She was deliberate in every step, sharp in her planning, and unwavering in execution. It was almost as if you stripped a person of all feeling or empathy, but left everything else untouched.

She did not celebrate victories, nor mourn casualties. She treated prisoners as dead weight and saw honor as a luxury that held no value on a battlefield. And yet, her loyalty to the Fire Nation was undeniable, carved into her with the same precision she expected from her company.

"Understood." She gave him a sharp salute and moved on.

As she turned to carry out his orders, Han caught himself watching her with the same analytical gaze he had once reserved for enemy commanders. He had come to respect her of course, after the few months of constant battles around her, but part of him wondered if she was human at all.

Maybe Agni had a hand in her making; the spirits were famous for not caring about humans at all. Or maybe she was a spirit in disguise, one of those that cared little for lives but craved combat, but that wouldn't explain her loyalty at all.

He was certain that, at the very least, she was half something else, no human could show so little emotion.
​

---

The ground vibrated with every impact as another volley of earth crashed against the defensive line, the rock walls fracturing and folding inward like brittle paper, as the firebenders worked tirelessly to repel the flying rocks with their own volley. Zhou ducked instinctively, raising his bracer and lowering his stance; the motion fluid from repetition.

One of the fragments ricocheted close enough to scorch his cheek, but he barely flinched. His focus was ahead, watching the captain. She had not moved in several breaths, standing tall behind the shield wall where the frontline firebenders rotated in tight formation.

Each team lasted barely a minute under the pressure, pushing out waves of flame to counter the rock volleys before retreating to recover their breath and chi. The bombardment from the Earth Kingdom had become rhythmic now, a cycle of precision and exhaustion, and Zhou could feel the tremor of fatigue rippling through their ranks.

At the same time, they had another dedicated team that was in charge of pressing the attack even under constant enemy assaults. The amount of flames and heat around drenched everyone in sweat. As volleys of rock hit their formations, fireballs roared in return to the other side.

Yet the captain remained unshaken, her presence alone anchoring the entire rotation. She was making sure each soldier committed to their assigned task, like a symbol of unyielding and inextinguishable flame.

Zhou had never seen an Earth Kingdom defense this desperate before. The remaining defenders had been backed into a narrow ridge with nowhere left to flee, and it had made them wild with determination.

There was no thought of surrender in them, no signal of retreat or parley. Only the raw certainty that this would be the place they died and that desperation made them dangerous. Their strikes, although uncoordinated and desperate in nature, were fierce and powerful. The type of attack from an army that feared no consequences anymore.

The Red company had matched them volley for volley, but it had been very exhausting. A few steps behind the rotation line, the specialized squad worked tirelessly to intercept incoming boulders, cutting them down with controlled flame jets or redirecting them mid-air with bursts of fire walls. That buffer kept them alive so far.

Zhou wiped the sweat from his brow, his arm trembling slightly from overuse. His squad had already cycled through three times, and he could feel the heavy drag of depleted reserves building behind his ribs. The captain, on the other hand, looked as though she hadn't yet begun.

He turned just in time to see her step forward. He recognized that this was an attack that only she saw, an opportunity on the enemy line that she wanted to exploit. She broke her own lines and pressed forward without giving an order to the rest of the company. Zhou surged after her, fire already sparking at his fingertips.

The captain's flames burst forward in a searing arc, so hot and forceful that the first row of enemy cover dissolved on impact. Wooden barricades melted into smoldering embers, and the stunned Earth Kingdom soldiers behind them had only seconds to react before the second wave of fire swept through.

She did not relent the attack, and flame after flame, the opposition was being dismantled in front of his very eyes. The defenses that the earth kingdom forces had laid out were turning scorching black. Her fire was turning from the usual orange and red to a bright yellow, and her arms had a faint glow of red from the heat.

Zhou had trained under many commanders in his years of service, but none quite like her. She had cunning and a strategic mind that would rival most generals, but at the same time the strength to brute force her way into battle in a deliberate and merciless way. She didn't have the emotional fervor or hatred that fueled most fire nation officers, but she still thrusted into battle without fear and with the same ferocity.

He reached her side just as she switched angles, redirecting her flames to the left flank, where the enemy had begun to regroup. They were trying to rotate in fresh fighters from behind the barricades, still clinging to old tactics and trying to turn back the tide with the same stubbornness that had already doomed them.

The moment the wall cracked under the pressure, she paused and looked back.

"Chaaaaarge!" she screamed, turning around and rushing the enemy, her voice carrying over the din of flame and falling stone. Zhou did not need to hear it twice.

The line surged forward as one. What had been a disciplined formation seconds earlier became a tide of roaring flame and voices, every soldier screaming as they rushed in behind her. Zhou pushed through the collapsing barricades, striking with precision, his chi flaring with renewed fury. Around him, the defenders faltered, some broke into the river, which was easy pickings for later, others threw themselves into a final, hopeless stand.

The captain reached the center of the enemy formation first, cutting through a trio of defenders in a single sweeping motion, her metal gauntlets alight with flame. She moved with the grace of a duelist and the weight of a siege weapon, untouchable and absolute in the chaos. Zhou followed closely, shielding her flank without being told, trusting in her movements completely.

By the time the last earthbender fell, the ridge was silent except for the hiss of settling flames and the wheezing breath of soldiers pulling off their helmets. Some even chanted and cheered for their victory.

Zhou looked back and saw the remnants of the battlefield trailing behind them like the wake of a firestorm. Smoke curled from the broken wood, and the air was thick with ash and heat. He caught the captain's eye for a brief moment.

She gave no nod of recognition, no smile of pride or comment at all. She simply turned away and began the routine inspection of the battlefield, clearing downed enemies, killing the ones that had made a desperate retreat into the water or tending to wounded soldiers.

Zhou, despite the ache in his limbs and the blood on his cheek, followed without hesitation.

​

---

The fire was still dying behind them when the orders came. Messengers reached the Red Company not long after the ridge was cleared, bearing the final directive from command. Gaipan still held. The town had been bypassed during the push through the valley, and reports now confirmed that a detachment of Earth Kingdom fighters remained entrenched behind its walls.

The company that had been defeated days earlier had not included Gaipan's full strength. What remained was not enough to mount a major counteroffensive, but it was enough to be a thorn in their side. If the Fire Nation wanted complete domination of the region, taking the city was a must.

Lin received the message and contemplated the implications of urban warfare and how to mount an attack. A defensive position with walls was difficult to target and this one was surely well aware that they were next in line for conquest.

She took a moment to read the commander's seal and scanned the updated map the courier carried, committing the route and terrain to memory before sending the runner back with a nod.

She didn't want to lose any more of her fighting force. Training new recruits would decrease their time at the ready and introduce inexperienced fighters to battle if they couldn't keep up with the following orders.

Her company had been shaped through months of attrition and survival, and every soldier left standing had endured enough trials to be counted among the elite. They were not expendable, no matter what others in command assumed.

Gaipan was well-defended. It had three main gates and high walls. A direct assault would drain them, even if it succeeded. The main gates were still intact, and scouts reported makeshift barricades being reinforced with stone and timber, something which the town had in abundance due to its main trade being that of loggers and woodsmen.

Lin walked the perimeter of their new position in silence, passing between campfires and sentries, noting every supply crate, every resting soldier, and every wounded man who had returned to his feet.

The rain from the night before had darkened the soil, and the air was heavy with moisture. She stopped near the edge of the camp and narrowed her eyes toward the west, where mountain runoff fed into a thick tributary that curved around the base of the hill.

She traced its path mentally, following the slope and terrain until she saw her golden egg. Just past the trees, concealed behind a natural rise, a wooden dam stood at the edge of the ravine. Its structure was broad and weatherworn but intact, built generations ago for farming and now repurposed by the Earth Kingdom to control the water flow around their remaining strongholds.

There was no hesitation in her thoughts. The plan revealed itself fully formed, as though it had been waiting for her to notice it. She would not storm Gaipan; she would threaten to drown it. If they took the dam quickly, then they could send a missive to the town to surrender or everyone would die.

The previous rains made it a very believable threat as well. The defenders would have no choice but to take it seriously or brave the water if they didn't comply. The water could soften the entire town for them, destroying its fortifications and defenses. The old dam was mostly made of timber, and no structure like it could withstand focused firebending. The moment it broke, the water would do the rest.

She returned to the command tent and spread the map out again, adjusting markers and drawing a line toward the slope with a piece of charcoal. Her lieutenants gathered without being summoned, watching quietly as she finalized the placements.

She assigned one unit to move along the ridgeline to intercept any retreat from the city. Another would move into the forest to secure a perimeter around the dam itself. She would take a small detachment with her to deliver the strike if necessary.

There would be a call for parlay and a surrender term or there would be death to the entire town. The objective was to remove the last Earth Kingdom presence in the region with the least risk to her company, and this was the cleanest way to do it.

Once the preparations were underway, she returned to the edge of the camp. The sun had begun to set behind the mountains, casting long shadows through the trees and igniting the clouds in soft orange and red.

She stood alone for several moments, arms behind her back, her gaze steady on the hidden dam in the distance. The forest surrounding the town was quiet, only the hush of wind through the leaves and the distant hiss of campfires burning low.

She loved when plans just fell on her lap. Lin returned to work with a rare smile on her face.
​

---

AN: Hello! It is a slow-burn of a story so if you enjoy long stories this is your jam. I'll try to post every Friday or every two at least. I'm open to receiving corrections and critics, my first language is not english so there will be probably a few mistakes here and there, you are welcomed to give me a hand if you want to. Enjoy!

 

[MightyMorphinTurtleMilker]

Naah don't like the character design. The whole emotionless thing isn't cool, its just dull. Also the angsty cripple is not a good look.

 

[Lucernello]

Naah don't like the character design. The whole emotionless thing isn't cool, its just dull. Also the angsty cripple is not a good look.

Click to shrink...

That's totally fine, each person likes different things. I hope you find a story that you do like out there, friend

 

[krahe]

Honestly rather nice. Always liked undoubtedly loyal broken people, and oh boy, she's a broken one. And I doubt Azula, a fellow broken one, will attempt to fix her

 

[Lucernello]

96 AG

The fire hawk arrived at dawn, its plumage streaked with ash, and heat shimmer rising from its wings as it landed atop the blackened post outside the command tent. The seal it carried bore the emblem of the capital.

Han removed the message and unfurled the scroll with a practiced hand, his brow creasing slightly as he read the formal commendation. There were lines of congratulation from higher command, mentions of honor, strategy, and the swift subjugation of the northwestern region.

The town of Gaipan had surrendered without a single Fire Nation life lost in the final operation. To the court, it was a decisive, clean victory. To Han, it was far more complicated. He rolled the scroll back into its case and placed it on the edge of the table before settling onto the stool beside it.

The inside of the tent was already warm from the morning sun, and the scent of fresh parchment mingled with the lingering bitterness of last night's fire. He reached for the pot of bitterleaf tea, left steaming nearby and poured himself a small cup, taking a slow sip without looking at anything in particular.

He knew it had been the right decision. A flood would have devastated the valley, wiped Gaipan off the map, and drowned not only the remaining defenders but also every civilian sheltering behind those walls.

The threat had been enough. Lin had calculated it with terrifying accuracy, from the amount of rain in the area to how quickly they could potentially take the dam out. Luckily it was not needed as the reaction of a cornered garrison was almost immediate; the surrender came swiftly after her warning was delivered, and with it, the last resistance in the northwest fell quiet.

Still, something about it left a sour taste in his mouth. He had given the order, that much was true, and he had trusted her to come up with a plan to take the town. It had been his campaign, his sector, and his responsibility.

The Red Company had carried out the mission flawlessly, but the method, the threat, the coldness of it all felt wrong for him. From the academy days, he had been taught to value honor, and to respect the enemy and the battlefield.

Han had seen men burned alive, watched comrades crushed by stone, and had once held the broken pieces of a commander's helm after an ambush shattered their line. None of that had made him feel this way, but for some reason, the lack of emotion in the young Captain managed to disturb him in the end.

Throughout the campaign, he felt that he could rely on her to follow his orders. She was one of the few officers under his command who needed no supervision, who anticipated terrain, logistics, morale, and tactics with the ease of someone born to command.

But there were times, brief and unwelcome, when he found himself wondering whether she was really a human or something artificially made, even spirits were less disturbing. The teacup had gone cold in his hand. He set it aside and moved to the front of the tent, pulling aside the flap to look across the camp.

The soldiers of the Red Company had settled into a new rhythm, no longer under constant attack, no longer forced into night marches through hostile terrain. For the first time in weeks, there was a stillness to their work. The wounded had been tended to, new supplies had arrived, and they were once again focused on their training and the polishing of their battle tactics.

The new orders he had just received though, would mean that there would be no more battles for a while. His orders were now to consolidate and build. High command had been informed of her progress and that of her company, and they had deemed her a resource far too valuable to keep out of combat.

So, with his new orders, he was finally parting away from having them close by, and he could now focus on more administrative tasks, probably keeping the peace and ensuring that the region would serve as a foundation for colonial development.

Small Fire Nation villages would be seeded throughout the cleared territory, their progress guided by bureaucrats and overseen by military officers like himself. Engineers would arrive next, along with surveyors and cartographers. Fortified roads would be cut through the land, connecting the colonies to ports along the western coast.

It was work that demanded patience more than strength, and Han welcomed it. He had no desire to keep the Red Company under his command, nor to test himself against the unease that always followed when Captain Lin returned from a mission with blood on her hands and not a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

He could spend the next few weeks attending to infrastructure, ensuring the new colonies were secure and putting his thoughts in order. He could go days without hearing reports of burned barricades or flooded garrisons.

Han let the flap fall closed and returned to his maps, already adjusting the lines to reflect the new priorities. He would mark the future townships, assign construction detachments, and draft a new patrol schedule for the border roads. It was work that grounded him, even if he knew it would not last.

Captain Lin, on the other hand, had other orders to go south under someone else's command. And perhaps, if fortune was kind, she would be someone else's problem for a whole while.
​

---

The briefing arrived as the camp settled into dusk, carried not by courier, but by an officer whose eyes flicked with unspoken urgency. Lin accepted the sealed scroll and broke the emblematic wax with a gentle press of her thumb.

The brazier at her side hissed as she adjusted the coals, casting flickering shadows against the canvas walls. She unrolled the message and read in silence, her eyes tracing each line without a visible reaction.

The next assignment was clear. The Red Company was no longer under Major Han's direct command. They were to redeploy to the southern front and join Colonel Mongke of the Rough Rhinos in preparing an assault on Chin Village, a major settlement perched atop the cliffs of the southern coast.

The report detailed that an initial offensive had already failed spectacularly. The colonel's troops had been repelled and forced into retreat, and unless reinforced, another attempt would not be possible for months.

Her transfer orders indicated that, due to limited naval availability, their departure would be delayed. Fire Nation supply lines to the southern front were stretched thin, with the war effort still consolidating gains across several fronts. It would take nearly a month before the transports assigned to her company were redirected north to collect them.

Lin folded the scroll carefully and set it aside, then spread regional maps across the desk, anchoring them with stacked gauntlets and loose ingots. Her fingertips traced the path westward, until she paused at Pohuai Stronghold, marked firmly just ahead of their march.

The fortress, once known as Pohuai Depot, had grown into a Fire Nation military hub under Colonel Shinu's command, housing supplies, troops, and notably, the Yuyan Archers. She leaned back, shadows dancing across her calm expression, as she considered what this meant.

The stronghold was not merely a depot; it also acted as a prison and had railroads to reinforce their forces with Fire Nation weapons and armor. That it hosted the Yuyan Archers was also praised, as they were renowned for their stealth, precision, and unerring focus.

Even if they were not benders, they were still trained killers, shaped by discipline, capable of erasing targets before they were seen. Their methods had long set them apart from typical Fire Nation tactics.

Their strength lay in subtlety and speed, in positioning, discipline, and accuracy. Lin had read field reports describing their precision and success in eliminating high-valuable targets when they were called upon.

The Earth Kingdom hadn't yet widely used ambush and long-range engagement tactics, but training her soldiers against such opponents would sharpen their instincts in ways no drill formation could.

If you could evade their arrows, you could train your instincts to react faster to incoming volleys. If you could strike a Yuyan before being struck yourself, then even a sudden ambush in enemy territory would hold no fear. She began listing exercises in her mind.

Daylight maneuvering drills, silent approach formations, squad rotations under live fire, and even rapid recovery under terrain pressure. She would need to adjust their rations slightly and recalibrate their marching schedule, but the benefits were undeniable.

A full month of structured movement and resistance training, followed by real-time adaptation drills under Yuyan supervision, would elevate the company's survivability on every front.

Lin reached for her side drawer, pulled out a clean scroll, dipped her brush in ink and began to write the orders she would circulate at dawn. No soldier in her company would remain idle, and the task would prepare them to march as soon as possible to the west and to Pohuai Stronghold. By the time the ships arrived, the Red Company would be sharper than ever.

She set the brush aside, stood, and stepped outside the tent into the crisp night air. The camp had quieted. Most of the fires had burned low, and the guards kept their distance, giving her a wide berth out of habit. She looked towards the horizon, at the forests they would soon leave behind and the long trail that would take them to their destination.

Her soldiers would train until they could react without thought, until instinct overrode doubt. The next time they were sent to fight, there would be no margin for error. She would prove to the Fire Nation how a truly elite force should operate, and where others failed, they would succeed.
​

---

The march west to Pohuai Stronghold began under a grey morning sky, the clouds low and threatening rain, their silence echoed by the measured pace of the Red Company as they departed the camp swiftly.

Lin had issued the route and formation orders the night before, designating lead scouts, rotating supply units, and adjusting pace schedules for optimal load management. By the time the sun rose, the company had already moved several kilometers into the dense woodlands, their footsteps muffled by damp soil and moss-covered roots.

They advanced in three columns, tight enough for control but spaced to allow maneuvering. She walked at the front, not out of pride or ego, but because it was the only way to maintain the tempo she desired.

She could feel the condition of the path in her knees and ankles, and when the ground turned soft, she adjusted the pace long before anyone behind her needed to ask. Her officers took note, as they always did.

The rain came lightly, then steadily, but no one stopped to draw up their hoods or complain. Their cloaks grew heavier, their boots darker, yet the march continued unbroken for six days and five nights.

By the time the stronghold came into view beyond the final slope, the company had shed whatever tension remained from their previous campaign. They arrived not as victors seeking rest, as the garrison was expecting, but as a force ready to deploy immediately.

The towers of Pohuai rose without flourish, utilitarian and reinforced with black stone that glistened under the weight of clouded light. Narrow rail lines entered through the lower gates, and steam hissed rhythmically from the freight terminals as supply wagons moved in and out of storage vaults.

Lin observed the flow of motion before giving the signal to begin establishing their external camp. They would not quarter inside to avoid friction or unnecessary confrontations. Even if ordered to do so, Colonel Shinu was not rumored to be an accommodating officer.

The stronghold had changed over the years. What had once served as a depot and border outpost now functioned as a critical node in the Fire Nation's northern infrastructure. Under Colonel Shinu's command, it had become a distribution hub for weapons, armor, fuel cells, and logistical personnel.

She spent the afternoon finalizing the exercise schedule, cross-referencing terrain charts and rewriting patrol rotations to accommodate the new purpose. Her company would not conduct drills in rank and file. They would be split into small units, given maps and parameters, and deployed into the forested slope west of the stronghold.

She briefly wondered if they could handle an exercise against them using stealth as well, keeping torches and bending to a minimum. Their objective would be to move silently through designated paths for a set duration while remaining undetected. The archers, would be granted full freedom of movement, would track and mark them. Hits would be delivered with blunt, chalk-dipped arrows and documented at the end of each session.

A squad of them returned to Pohuai three days after the Red Company's arrival, their presence marked only by nothing more than the sudden appearance of masked figures moving through the southern checkpoint without a word.

Lin watched from the stone overlook as the archers passed through the open yard, their steps unnaturally quiet on gravel and tile, their movements free of hesitation. Each bore a longbow crafted from black wood, curved blades at their hips, and quivers designed for rapid switching between arrow types.

Colonel Shinu had accepted their proposal for a joint training once that squad returned ensuring they wouldn't lack personnel at any time. Once the exercises started, she joined in as well, there was a lot of expectation going forward, she even sensed excitement among the archers , who had never faced their own troops.

As expected, the first trial went poorly for her company. Although many never got hit, losing more than 50% of their force was always considered too great a loss. Half the company returned before the halfway mark, red streaks smeared across their backs, shoulders, and arms.

Some were tagged within minutes of departure. Others believed they had made the full circuit, only to be revealed by hidden marks applied without their noticing. Although this first exercise was a failure, she remained confident her men would adjust quickly.

These were not tests of pride or obedience. They were assessments of perception, pressure, and adaptation, skills at which they were already proficient. She spent the evening reviewing field notes, modifying the exercise paths, and rotating squad members to prevent pattern dependency.

The following day, roles were reversed. Her soldiers became the hunters, instructed to locate and approach static archer positions within a limited timeframe, still without using firebending. The likelihood of success remained low, but against all odds, when on the offensive, her company fared much better.

Each iteration stripped away comfort and replaced it with attentiveness. When her soldiers stumbled, they began to crouch sooner. When they lost sight of a path, they scanned for trails instead of pressing forward blindly.

Some began listening for the silence of birds or the subtle shift of weight in leaves. Others noticed that the archers never left footprints when they moved across packed earth, and tried to mimic their patterns with limited success.

Lin took note of everything she could from her usual observation point. She recorded who adjusted fastest, who remained stiff, and who needed to be reassigned or retrained. She compiled the data nightly; it wouldn't change squad leaders or promotions, but some arrangements to the whole composition were necessary.

The people she had chosen as her lieutenants had proven themselves deserving of that promotion already, and they continued to excel in the exercises. Those who adapted slowly were pulled into accelerated cycles, without exception.

Her logistics staff, support runners, and even the engineers responsible for maintaining their weapons and occasionally constructing bridges and support defenses were cycled through shorter observer rounds to experience the tension firsthand.

By the end of the second week, the Red Company already appeared seasoned and experienced. Conversations dropped to whispers by default. Footfalls fell closer to tree roots and stone edges than to the center paths. Eyes followed ridge lines rather than resting on the road ahead.

Lin stood one evening at the edge of the high watchpoint, arms behind her back, as the last of the training parties returned from the far woods. Her soldiers walked with quieter steps by default, without being ordered to, and were highly aware of their surroundings.

A smile found its place on Lin's face as the sky above the stronghold had begun to clear.
​

---

Zhou had never underestimated the Yuyan Archers. He had read the same reports as everyone else and listened to the same stories shared quietly over mess tables and in barracks bunks. They could strike from distances too great to see, their arrows never missing, and their presence on a battlefield meant someone had already been marked for death.

But knowing something in theory was never the same as standing in the woods and realizing that an ally standing right beside you had just been killed without even seeing who had fired. When he returned to camp with the rest of his squad, still glancing over his shoulder as if the archer might be waiting to correct the shot, he remained silent for a long time.

The training began with controlled objectives, simple paths, simulated patrols, and no firebending allowed. But simplicity was only ever the shape of the problem, not its substance. The Yuyan operated with stealth as their primary focus, then obviously precision and speed.

Zhou prided himself on his spatial awareness, his ability to read enemy movements and position his squad to respond accordingly. But in this environment, his instincts felt blunted, and although he adapted to it quickly and managed to only get hit once during the whole two weeks, he lost more squad members than he could count by hand, and his squad was only 20 members.

At the beginning, they had tried to track them down, but the archers cleared their path and left no traces to follow. Staying alert all the time was exhausting. Someone would inevitably make the mistake of getting comfortable, and that is when the archers strike. It was both humbling, and infuriating.

The company as a whole adapted quickly, thanks to the captain's influence. Her presence alone demanded improvement and the squad that she led and those close to her performed better. She never shouted, never corrected anyone publicly, but her advice was always received with open ears and her orders carried out without question.

From the moment they arrived at Pohuai, she reshaped the rhythm of their training. Where others might have settled into the routines or slacked off a bit to rest for their next campaign, Captain Lin pressed them into battle focus, making them more aware of terrain, posture, and breath control.

Zhou had always admired her control, but this was something else entirely. Even during breaks, she sat near the edge of the training field, analyzing what could be improved, her gaze occasionally flicking toward an officer, calling them to her. She offered advice and shared her opinion on what she thought would work best for next time.

Even when she wasn't nearby, Zhou found himself correcting his strategy and remembering her advice to analyze further. His squad had begun mirroring the same habits, some more consciously than others.

It had been nearly three weeks since their arrival, and to say he was tired would be an understatement. That fatigue that settled in the muscles of the shoulders and legs, where tension accumulated without flaring into pain, compounded by the stress of having to be alert almost every hour of the day.

On the morning of their final training rotation with the archers, Zhou awoke earlier than usual. The camp remained dark, though a pale glow hinted at the coming dawn beyond the eastern ridge. He dressed quickly, rolled up his bedding with practiced efficiency, and stepped into the cool air, with the familiar weight of anticipation tightening across his chest.

Today's exercise was a cooperative simulation. Firebenders and Yuyan would operate together in mixed squads, moving through a simulated assault scenario within the deeper ravines west of the stronghold. It would be the first time in weeks that they were permitted to use bending in an active engagement, and even then, it was to be tightly regulated to prevent them from hurting each other or the forest resources.

Zhou welcomed the restriction. It reminded him of the early days at the academy, when instructors emphasized precision before strength, forcing cadets to strike candles without disturbing the surrounding air.

He was assigned to a five-person team, two archers, two firebenders, and himself as squad leader. They received their map with brief instructions. They would coordinate with two other squads to eliminate a designated target structure and exfiltrate without being detected by rotating patrols planted across the hills.

Zhou memorized the map in case it was lost, and adjusted their initial route silently. The archers observed him without comment, and he appreciated their discipline. As the exercise began, they moved low, taking advantage of natural depressions in the ground and shaded cover beneath the tree canopy.

He sent the archers ahead in intervals, as scouts. When they returned, they would communicate by hand signals rather than words, indicating guard positions and obstacle placements. Zhou communicated with one of his firebenders by light taps on the shoulder, redirecting their pace each time new information arrived.

The mission proceeded smoothly. They reached the target structure without incident. It was a reinforced signal tower constructed for the simulation out of wood, and they disabled it efficiently, as Zhou lit one of the arrows from one of the archers and they just had to watch as it sailed to the target from a distance once they knew no one was looking directly at their position.

Once they confirmed it was down, the squad pulled back in two arcs, avoiding detection by the decoy guards, and they reached the extraction zone ahead of schedule. When the signal was given and the exercise concluded, Zhou exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours.

He returned to camp late in the afternoon, muscles stiff but steady, breathing low and controlled. The other squads had returned as well, some successful, others clearly marked and withdrawn from the exercise before reaching their targets. Lin stood near the central stone platform, hands behind her back, speaking quietly to the training overseer, her eyes half-focused on the returning units.

Zhou did not expect praise; their captain would often either give you advice if she thought there was something obvious to improve or a promotion directly to lead one of the squads. But this time, she merely nodded in his direction and continued speaking with the overseer.

It felt like one of his biggest achievements to date. Elated, he then moved toward the supply tent to begin preparing his gear. Their departure was imminent as the ships had already been signaled to anchor the following day.

He was pleased with his performance, and, if the spirits were favorable enough, he would be able to rest aboard the ship on their way south.
​

---

AN: I personally do not like using flashbacks, so I'm doing some lore-building for the first few chapters and show the whole characters before the juicy parts show up, for those like me who like that. I hope you enjoy them, do let me know what you think so far.

 

[Lucernello]

96 AG

The rhythm of the waves against the hull was steady, low and even, barely felt beneath the deck, yet present enough to keep time with the company's movements. Lieutenant Aiku stood by the forward railing of the top deck, his posture relaxed, though his eyes quietly tracking the flow of the drills taking place behind him.

He didn't need to face the exercise to follow its progression. The rise of controlled fire, the subtle shifts in breath, and the placement of each step gave him everything he needed to gauge its course.

Aiku had been one of the Lieutenants when their last captain was still alive. He was content to keep his rank after the promotions and demotions that the new captain imposed. Since taking over the young girl had forged an elite unit of trained and experienced soldiers, where leadership had to be won on merit alone. She was one of the few officers in the army he knew who would never promote someone that wasn't worthy of it.

Aiku had served long enough to know that most companies rarely had such a thing. Elite units were uncommon too, some followed orders well enough, others fought hard when pressed, but few developed the kind of cohesion that turned every soldier into a thinking part of a larger machine. As the war continued through the years, less trained units were thrown to the front lines in hopes of keeping the tides to the Fire Nation's favor.

That kind of structure usually arose from years of consistent leadership, steady campaigns, and bitter experience. Captain Lin had imposed it in less time that he thought was humanly possible, driving those changes through constant refinement, relentless exercise, and a total unwillingness to accept even minor inefficiencies. She was truly an inspiring officer, one with the strength to back her claims.

He allowed himself a slow breath as he finally turned to observe the fire game in progress. The captain had introduced it only a few days earlier as a form of agility conditioning, though no one had ever gotten a clear answer about which sport it was supposedly based on.

Aiku suspected it didn't matter, since the concept was simple enough. One soldier stood in the center of a loose circle, while the others passed a small, stable fireball between themselves. The goal was to strike the center player without ever aiming directly at them, forcing misdirection, anticipation, and control.

The person in the center earned points for each successful dodge. Whoever landed a hit switched roles, and if anyone passed the flame too hard to be caught, they were eliminated. The result was a constant interplay between coordination and restraint, prediction and deception. Keeping the flame alive with fire control also added a level of concentration that required keen attention.

At present, the four platoon sergeants and five of the company's designated specialists were locked in a match against their captain; it was not going well for them. Lin remained in the center, alert and focused, her body poised with a precision that made her resemble a predator sizing up its prey.

Her eyes tracked her opponents every move and she had dodged every pass so far. Every time the flame came close, she shifted with the smallest possible movement. Sometimes pivoting on a heel, sometimes adjusting the arc of her spine or twisting slightly at the hip, wasting no motion at all. The fireball never touched her, not once.

One of the sergeants attempted a harder throw to create an opening, curving the flame wide before angling it back toward a specialist across the circle. The idea, though clever, demanded perfect execution; without the receiver knowing what to expect, the catch failed, and the flame slipped past the receiver's grip.

Another player was eliminated. The others readjusted quickly, never breaking the circle. No one questioned or complained the failure. A few groaned, realizing they couldn't yet win against the captain, but they kept playing all the same.

Aiku folded his arms behind his back and watched for a few more rotations. He had come to understand that Lin never introduced drills like these for entertainment or to break tension, but it was helping with morale all the same, a less stressful way of training her men.

She was shaping bodies, sharpening their reaction speeds, and refining their decision-making under movement, all without making it feel like it was training at all. Every action carried a teaching purpose. Even the posture each player adopted while waiting for the flame held implications.

Too stiff, and they were slow to pass. Too loose, and their throws lacked control. The central target, meanwhile, had to read peripheral movement and recognize patterns before they emerged.

Even after twelve rounds without being hit, there was no pride, or smugness in Lin´s posture. She dodged without comment and returned to stillness without acknowledgment. She wasn't demonstrating anything to prove a point; She was simply participating in a structure she had imposed, maintaining its integrity by committing to it fully.

It reminded him faintly of a master swordsman he had observed long before the war expanded beyond the northern ridgelines. His exercises were simple and he would often say comment to other teachers: If you want them to move like you, then let them see you move.

At the time, Aiku had thought it an overstatement. Now, watching Lin shift her weight to avoid another flicker of firelight with less motion than it took most soldiers to blink, he reconsidered. The company had grown stronger, more efficient, and less volatile under her command.

Part of that was because her presence made them unwilling to disappoint her, even when she spoke no words. She simply made effort seem logical, without demanding anything. There was this strange allure in trying to do right by her.

Aiku turned his gaze toward the southern horizon, where the thin line of morning light began to separate the sky from the distant curve of the sea. Their course held steady. The naval officers had reported no irregularities, and they were scheduled to reach a coal-loading station near a mining village by nightfall.

If all went well, the stop would last less than a day.
​

---

The ship creaked faintly as it shifted across the waves, the sound of wood flexing under weight layered beneath the distant rhythm of water slapping against the hull. Lin sat cross-legged on the floor of her cabin, arms resting loosely on her knees, back pressed against the exposed support beam, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

The candlelight wavered slightly in the stale air of the enclosed room, casting long shadows across the steel seams along her prosthetic forearms and the dark lacquered wall behind her. She had not spoken since the door closed; the silence was peaceful yet she felt conflicted.

She had just been informed of updates regarding the war, and the plans for her company once they can secure a foothold on the southern peninsula of the continent. Suffice to say, they were garbage and strategic command had no clue what they were doing. No wonder the war kept going even after almost a hundred years.

Her lips parted slowly, her voice low and tight as though forcing its way past a layer of restraint held too long.

"This world is so backwards it makes my head ache." she muttered, each word clipped by fatigue more than anger, although both were clearly present. "We are being shipped across the world for a war that hasn't stopped for almost a century as if it were the next great thing. Then they expect us to just throw ourselves into the enemies walls and win somehow."

She was tired of coming up with strategies herself that would give them victory.

"Seriously what is wrong with this nation. They think just because they throw fire from their hands, that alone is supposed to work. Almost all firebenders throw fire at the same speed like mindless brutes. Just raw bending, flung in arcs, with no thought behind it whatsoever."

She stood abruptly, pacing from one side of the room to the other, the reinforced floor groaning faintly beneath the weight of her metal steps. Her arms flexed at the elbows, heat venting softly from the seams of her shoulders where the plating had begun to warm.

She knew she shouldn't have let herself get this agitated, but the spiral had begun hours ago, and her mood had only worsened with each passing thought.

"There are no inventive solutions. With the amount of energy each firebender possesses, we could have made better weapons. I miss rifles; I miss artillery. There are almost no siege weapons! We could have something that could combine three or four firebenders to produce more destruction. All research is focus in the next wonder of transportation but not on the next weapon each soldier can use. Nothing but sabers, spears, arrows and bending. The latter is treated as if it were some divine solution to every military problem as if it were even remotely efficient. They fight like it's still the age of castles."

Her voice had risen, not quite a shout, but far louder than usual. The candles around the perimeter of the cabin flickered in response, the flames reacting unconsciously to the heat spike in the room.

She stopped near her desk and leaned over it, both palms planted on the surface as her breath deepened, not ragged, but forceful and restrained by willpower alone. Her knuckles tightened, and the faint glow beneath the surface of her arms brightened.

"And coal." she hissed, the word thick with disdain, "They run ships off coal. Not only it's highly inefficient, it's like marching into battle with a bomb in our backs. Steam engines… against people who could control the water inside of them… ugh, we are lucky the Water tribes are useless."

She closed her eyes, forcing a long, controlled exhale through her nose. The room did not cool, but her posture began to return to composure. The flames steadied slowly, no longer dancing in their holders with each fluctuation of her frustration. Her jaw tightened as she rolled her shoulders back and straightened fully.

"I miss you, brother." she said quietly, the words slipping past her defenses in a tone that carried more fatigue than sadness. "You'd be laughing yourself breathless in a place like this."

The admission surprised her even as she said it, but the room offered no judgment. She sat back down, hands pressed together in her lap, staring at the line of candlelight cast across the metal plate of her right thigh.

It was still strange to remember how quiet everything could become when there were no circuits to monitor, no alerts pinging in the background, no soft hum of filtered ventilation through alloy ducts. The world she had been forced into was silent in many ways, as slow and old as it was.

Her breathing slowed gradually as she tried to center herself, finding the patterns that had once grounded her through hours of internal recalibration. She no longer relied on external meditative forms; those had been meaningless even in her previous life, but she had refined something similar, a stillness made of repetition and balance, a mental posture.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the edge of her thigh, a quiet rhythm repeating with perfect spacing as she focused on silencing the last of her spiraling thoughts. Of course, that was precisely the moment the knock came.

Three sharp taps, spaced evenly, a code that meant they were not urgent news, implemented by her to offer officers the freedom to accept the interruption or not. But the timing broke her internal calm. Her brow tensed, her fingers taps halted, and the room's temperature rose perceptibly in an instant.

She stood slowly, letting the silence thicken behind her steps as she reached the door, opening it with the controlled lethality of someone prepared to deliver a very brief conversation. The officer standing on the other side, a young logistics aide, froze mid-sentence as soon as he met her eyes. Any words he had prepared withered before they reached his mouth.

"C-Captain." he stammered, posture snapping upright so quickly it nearly made him stumble, "we're… we're approaching the mining village. Orders said to, ah, to notify you once we were within sight of the coastline."

Lin said nothing. He offered a strangled bow, stepped backward with a visible tremor in his shoulders, nearly colliding into the wall as he tried to retreat without breaking into a run. She shut the door behind him with a low click, the gesture calm, controlled, and expressionless.

She returned to her place in the room, adjusted a candle that had burned slightly unevenly from the earlier spike, and muttered under her breath with no audience to hear her.

"Damn this world."

There was no anger in the words, only resignation. The moment passed, and with it the room cooled. Her posture reset to its usual precision, and the next hour returned to the silence she preferred.
​

---

The first signs that something was wrong appeared as soon as the ship anchored just offshore from the designated stop point. Zhou stood near the bow, reviewing the approach markers with a midship officer, and noticed the conspicuous absence of any visible supply party waiting on the beach.

No signal flags, no coal runners, not even the usual cart trails etched into the sand. A garrison depot this size, tied to a mining village, should have shown signs of recent activity, yet the shoreline looked abandoned, as if the people who were supposed to receive them had either forgotten or simply never been informed that they were coming.

By the time the small boat team rowed them ashore, the details only worsened. The village was intact and showed no signs of recent attack, but the atmosphere felt brittle and thin. Smoke rose from a few scattered chimneys, but many houses showed signs of disuse. Their clotheslines untied, their tools left rusting near front steps, and their windows dark even in daylight.

The villagers who did appear carried themselves with a blend of suspicion and weariness, glancing at the Red Company insignias with an almost visible calculation, as if weighing how much to reveal before it could be held against them.

Zhou disembarked with a group of non-commissioned officers and a pair of supply handlers. They were met not by the local garrison commander, as protocol dictated, but by a junior infantry corporal who introduced himself quickly, offered no salute, and led them to a cluttered storehouse, where the few remaining coal sacks had been piled into one corner like an afterthought.

When Zhou pressed for inventory records, the corporal fumbled through a half-burned logbook, gesturing vaguely toward the western ridge where the mines lay.

"The shipment's gone." the corporal finally admitted, his voice barely above a mutter. "Loaded and sent eastward to a shipping rig last week. Took most of the able workers, too. Anyone who could earth-bend was sent as forced labor."

Zhou processed the information in silence, turning it over in his mind as if inspecting the seams of a fractured structure. The mining village had been listed on their itinerary as a coal resupply point, a confirmed source of energy to fuel the final leg of the naval journey toward Chin Village.

The timing had been calculated down to the day. That the fuel had been relocated without updating the shipment schedule, and without sufficient reserves in place, meant someone, somewhere, had made a decision without regard for downstream consequences.

It also meant they were stuck for the time being. Zhou looked around the interior of the storehouse and noted the complete absence of loading crews, drivers, or even spare tools. The village, it seemed, had been drained dry to support operations far beyond its limits.

The few remaining civilians were either overaged or underfed, barely capable of sustaining daily routines, let alone hauling carts of raw ore to a military dock. There was no chance they could deliver the required volume of coal within a single day. Without intervention, the delay could extend into multiple days, possibly a full week.

Zhou stepped back into the open air, motioned for the nearest sergeant, and gave the order to convene an officer's meeting at the village square. Within minutes, the lieutenants and platoon sergeants had gathered in a tight arc beneath the old arch tree at the center of the main road, their formation practiced and orderly even in the absence of their captain.

"We've got a logistics failure here." Zhou began without a preamble. "The coal is gone, sent to an offshore rig. The garrison command failed to update the central deployment schedule, and the records here are either incomplete or falsified. The fuel needed to complete the journey south is no longer at this location."

Murmurs passed among the officers, but none were surprised. Zhou delivered the news with the same steady tone he used during patrol reports, and they followed his example with silent nods. Emotion held no value here.

"The ship can't make it to Chin Village with what's in its hold. We have two options: wait here for a resupply reroute, or head to the rig in the opposite direction, which will take at least five days, or gather and haul enough ore to keep the boilers running at reduced speed and recover time en route."

Lieutenant Aiku, who had just arrived from speaking to the quartermaster, joined the circle and gave a slight nod. "There's a side shaft near the ridge that hasn't collapsed. The mine's structurally sound, and the tools are intact. What's missing are the workers."

Zhou nodded once. "Then we become the workers."

He issued a series of instructions to divide labor. Half the company would assist the remaining villagers with repairs and civilian logistics, while the other half would begin hauling operations immediately.

Runners were dispatched to the docked ship to retrieve reinforced gloves, support carts, and spare ration packs. Firebenders were tasked with using small bursts to soften stubborn coal seams, and engineers were ordered to begin testing the structure of the tunnels to ensure they wouldn't collapse on them. No one questioned the assignments, which spoke volumes about their recently acquired discipline.

Only after the first wave of soldiers had been dispatched to the mine and the square emptied did Zhou take a quiet breath, checking the sun´s position and calculating the remaining work window. The day was already slipping into its latter half. He would need to relay the situation to the captain soon.

He looked up toward the path leading to the dock, where the ship sat motionless in the bay, then back toward the ridge where dust now rose faintly from the reactivated mine entrance. This was not what they had planned.

But, as always, they would make the best of it.
​

---

The sun had passed its peak by the time Lin arrived at the mine entrance, its light filtered through the dust rising from the trail and the faint haze of coal drifting down from the ridge. Her arrival caused an initial disruption, but as soon as she ordered them back to work, the flow continued.

The soldiers of the Red Company were already deep in labor, stripped down to their base uniforms, backs bent under the weight of reinforced hauling baskets, sleeves and boots smeared with soot. She did not speak as she passed the first relay point.

A platoon sergeant gave her a quick nod and returned to coordinating a firebender's controlled blast at a stubborn section of seam. Lin moved past them, stepping over a half-cleared rail and into the shade of the mine itself, the interior flickering with reflected torchlight and the quiet hiss of breath behind cloth masks.

The heat was building steadily. Not just from the summer air or the depth of the shaft, but from the sheer volume of effort being poured into extraction. Her boots echoed differently in the tunnels than those of her soldiers.

Their steps were soft with fatigue, carried by muscle and discipline. Hers fell heavier, her limbs compensating with internal bursts of chi to maintain smooth articulation. The metal groaned faintly in the confined space, steam venting in low, sharp exhalations from the seams in her backplate to keep her body from overheating.

She passed teams in rotation, carrying baskets toward the entrance, where coal would be loaded into carts and wheeled down toward the shore. She paused briefly at the edge of one loading site, studying the wall being worked on and noting the stress fractures already forming along the upper section of the tunnel. The work was efficient but not ideal; She didn't offer corrections though.

Instead, she removed her outer coat and draped it over a rusted support beam, the fabric streaked with fine powder where it had settled. The black undershirt beneath clung to her frame, streaked in places by the steam that radiated through the heat-conductive plating over her shoulders.

She adjusted the clasps of her gloves, checked the pressure of her palm vents, and stepped up beside the two soldiers currently digging. Neither asked what she was doing; the captain was known for stepping in to handle most jobs herself if needed.

One of them instinctively shifted position to give her room. Lin planted her hand against the rock wall, closed her eyes, and channeled her fire through the gauntlet until it began to glow, slowly shifting from dull orange to white-hot.

The stone hissed and cracked, dark lines forming through the coal like veins of ink. With a steady, grounded exhale, she punched through the softened section and pulled back, leaving behind a fractured core that could now be cleared by hand.

The younger of the two soldiers reached for a pry bar, pausing only when she gave him the faintest nod.

They worked for another hour before she finally stepped back. Her gloves were blackened, the vents at her shoulders releasing thicker bursts as her core temperature edged higher. A few of the runners began glancing toward her at intervals, more out of concern than curiosity.

On her way out of the mine, she paused near the command team which had been keeping count of load weights and calculating how much more they were going to need. With the now clear picture, he issued three clear instructions.

They had to shift two teams to the northeast vein, where the ore was shallower, rotate out anyone past the two-hour threshold, and begin sorting coal grades into three piles for more efficient burn planning. The engines of the ships were a delicate machine after all. The officers acknowledged her at once, some already turning to deliver orders as she exited.

Outside, the light struck her harder than expected. Dust had thickened with activity, and her outer layer remained draped where she had left it, untouched except for a slight wrinkle where someone had carefully moved it aside to clear a path. She retrieved it, shook the coal dust from its surface, and slung it over her shoulder without ceremony.

Rather than returning to the ship, she descended toward the village itself. Word had reached her during the mining rotation of problems on the civilian side, a suggestion that the local garrison had interpreted the arrival of the Red Company as an opportunity for reprisal rather than relief.

The village's energy was different now. Children no longer lingered near the soldiers distributing rations and elderly men and women remained inside their homes even as supplies were being organized in the square. She could clearly see the signs of abuse of power on full display.

She passed a merchant stall recently visited by one of their sergeants, who had purchased dried fruit for the squads resting near the dock. Civilians offered nods but spoke little. At the end of the main road, beyond a narrow bend, she heard raised voices.

They did not belong to her men. A woman's protest echoed sharply against the wall of one of the houses, followed by the deeper bark of a soldier's threat. When Lin rounded the corner, she assessed the scene with a single glance.

A garrison officer, broad-shouldered and heavyset, held a fireball in one hand while shouting into the face of a civilian woman while two other soldiers restrained a younger man who was struggling against their grip. Bystanders froze at the edges, no doubt wanting to intervene but fearing the worst if they did.

She approached without raising her voice.

"You will step away from her, soldier." she said, tone flat, eyes focused on the firebender with the lit palm, "And you will offer your apology immediately."

The officer turned, irritated more than startled, and giving her a half-snarl of dismissal before barking out his reply. "Who the hell do you think you are? This doesn't concern-"

He apparently realized who he was talking to late, with her coat on her shoulders, he could see now her insignia displaying her rank. As his mouth remained partly opened, she could see the surprise slowly turn to fear on his face.

Lieutenant Zhou arrived at the corner just in time to hear the words. His eyes widened in silence. Lin thought this was the perfect opportunity; she was confident this firebender was a weak excuse for a man. Her voice came again, quieter now, almost formal.

"You have insulted and threatened a superior officer, corporal." The fireball in the man's hand wavered.​

 

[Rotceh]

wow for now i love it, i love long and good crate stories, I can't wait any longer

 

[Sir_Swagalot]

I'm curious about what's going on with her body. How come our protag is walking around like some some kinda steampunk cyborg.

 

[Rotceh]

I'm curious about what's going on with her body. How come our protag is walking around like some some kinda steampunk cyborg.

Click to shrink...

They've called her a puppet several times, it's possible they're cyborg arms, but maybe she has arms "blessed" by a spirit and the metal arms function as a seal.

 

[Lucernello]

I'm curious about what's going on with her body. How come our protag is walking around like some some kinda steampunk cyborg.

Click to shrink...

All in due time, heh. Also there is another character in the show that has similar ones, used that as inspiration and then turned it up a notch.

 

[Sanguine]

Just going by her appearance, mentality and augments she sounds like the terrifying child of Edward Elric and Tanya von Degurechaff and I am all for that.

 

[Lucernello]

AN: I just realized that yesterday I notified all of you by replying this small comment, sorry about that, should have waited until today. I'm relatively new so please forgive me. Anyway enjoy!

96 AG

The tension in the village square had grown quickly and sharply. Zhou stood just behind his captain, flanked by two sergeants who had arrived moments later, their expressions tight with confusion.

The scene ahead still held its shape, a woman shielding her son, the two garrison troopers who had restrained him now standing uncertainly, and the firebender officer at the center, his flame finally extinguished.

Captain Lin had not raised her voice once; her words were clear, giving no room for debate or argument.

"You have insulted a superior officer, corporal." she repeated. "Under Fire Nation military doctrine the superior officer can issue the punishment as they see fit. You may accept an Agni Kai or die where you stand."

Zhou knew the garrison officer hadn't recognized her. He had probably seen a young woman in worn clothes and thought nothing of it. In the hierarchy of military perception, she had not looked the part. Her most distinguishable trait, her metal limbs, were not really visible as they were covered in coal.

The man's stance faltered as her words settled over him like frost. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Lin had already stepped forward ordering the other two soldiers to step away. The Red Company soldiers who had begun to gather understood what was happening right away.

Zhou exhaled slowly, arms folded behind his back, watching the crowd thicken. He did not like this; Internal duels within the army, whether sanctioned or spontaneous, always felt like wasted strength to him.

Men and women, trained for war, pitted against each other over honor or protocol or wounded pride. Yet, there was no room for him to question here. The offense had been clear, and the challenge had been issued. The law was on her side, and Zhou was sure the captain would not be bested.

Even if he wanted to argue restraint, he would be overstepping her authority, the rules of their institution sanctioned violence as a form of justice.

Still, Zhou felt a bitter taste at the back of his tongue as the square cleared in response to Lin's quiet order. The duel would take place beyond the village perimeter, near a patch of hard-packed earth beyond the last crop terrace.

He gave the instructions himself to avoid delay, guiding the formation outward as the garrison troops fell back, wide-eyed and suddenly unsure of what authority still remained theirs. The villagers, sensing that something larger was happening, slipped into their homes or gathered along fence lines to watch from a distance.

By the time they reached the open field, the circle had already begun to form. Officers and enlisted soldiers of the Red Company stood in silent arcs, their uniforms dark against the afternoon sky, their eyes staring at the captain

Zhou took his place just outside the ring and turned toward the garrison officer, who was now removing his boots with a kind of numb obedience.

Captain Lin stood still and then, without ceremony, she removed her stained clothes. She folded them smoothly alongside her coat, and placed them in the arms of a nearby aide. Her undershirt was sleeveless, black, and simple, clinging lightly to her frame from heat and exertion.

She then took off her boots and for the first time in front of the Lieutenant, her modified body was fully visible. No longer obscured by high collars or pauldron-mounted seals, her metal arms and legs gleamed with use.

The metal vents at her back hissed faintly, shimmering in the afternoon light. Augmented plates ran down the length of her spine and across her shoulder blades, shaped like machine-linked musculature.

The garrison officer visibly flinched at the sight, and Zhou couldn't blame him. Rumors had always circulated among the crew. They said the captain used her chi not just to fight but simply to exist.

They said that every movement she made required the use of her inner flame, that her limbs could run hotter than most metals, and that her control over that fire was so complete it had become an extension of her body.

Now, seeing her like this, it was quite believable that many parts of her body could only function with chi. The officer hesitated. His hands moved slowly, clumsily, as he unstrapped the plates across his chest and the bindings along his arms.

He removed them with the reluctance of someone who had accepted a challenge only because he had no choice. His eyes flicked across the circle of soldiers, looking for reprieve or a signal that this could still be undone, yet he found none.

They bowed to each other, then she drew her right foot back into a stance, her weight shifting, her knees soft and chin slightly lowered. It was a stance different from usual fire techniques. The captain was infamous for using the most effective kata combinations, without any of the flare or showmanship.

The garrison officer swallowed hard, then bent to unfasten his greaves. It took him longer than it should have. When he finally straightened, his hands trembled faintly at his sides.

Zhou watched it all in silence.

He knew how this would end. The soldiers knew. Perhaps even the villagers watching from the rise knew. Still, the formality would be respected. He turned to face the ring, lifting his voice just enough for the front row to hear.

"Begin."

With that word, the final moment before violence passed like a breath through dry grass.
​

---

The field chosen for the duel lay just beyond the village's last row of houses, a patch of hardened earth, scarred from old carts and unused for planting. It was far enough to avoid damaging homes, wide enough for movement, and quiet enough to hear the crackle of flames.

By the time the Red Company had assembled, the perimeter was already marked out by two corporals dragging bootheels in a wide circle. The other garrison officers were also present, although they looked uncomfortable and miserable.

Lieutenant Kaida stood with the other officers just beyond the edge. The village children had been sent away, while the adults remained hidden behind doorways and shuttered windows. The soldiers stood in full formation, four platoons circled tightly, their armor dull with coal dust.

Captain Lin stood without her usual outfitted armor and clothes. She could see that Lin's black undershirt was custom-made to fit her body modifications; her boots were caked from the shaft floor, and the metal lines running along her spine still emitted the occasional venting hiss as they regulated her internal temperature.

Her shoulders were squared, her stance relaxed yet firm, and not a single ounce of tension radiated from her limbs. Her face remained expressionless, with no smugness or cruel smirk present. She moved quietly to the center of the circle and waited.

Kaida watched closely, eyes narrowing at the way Lin shifted her weight slightly over her left foot, a precise angle that allowed for an immediate pivot or lunge if needed. Her stance was one she recognized from having fought by her side.

It was a stance better suited for fighting, one that allowed a quick switch to offense while avoiding boulders at the same time. She had trained them in it, as it was better suited to fight the Earth Kingdom benders with, focused on close combat.

The man across from her did not mirror her clarity. His hands twitched once, then again, as if unsure where to rest. He adjusted his footing twice over the span of a few breaths. His expression, now devoid of the bluster he had shown earlier in the village, revealed that the realization that he was not going to survive this had not yet entered his mind, but Kaida knew better.

She glanced at her fellow officers, seeing the same understanding reflected in most of their eyes. Some stood with arms crossed, others with hands clasped behind their backs. All of them had trained under Lin for months.

They had witnessed her control in drills, her speed in close-quarters exercises and her ability to analyze their flaws and exploit their weaknesses. Kaida had seen death before, of course, but she just hoped this wouldn't turn into a mere execution.

What lingered at the edges of her thoughts now was not the brutality of what was coming, but the sheer contrast. That a girl younger than most of the company's senior officers could stand in the center of a silent circle, surrounded by soldiers and smoke, ready to kill without hesitation just to teach a lesson.

When Zhou raised his arm to give the signal, Kaida's hands settled gently on her belt. Captain Lin moved first; the ground beneath her boots did not scatter with the usual stomp of a firebender preparing to launch. Instead, she surged forward with no warning flame, closing the space between them faster than the man could prepare for.

Her arm swept upward, intercepting his initial spark before it left his hand. The heat burst into the air, uncontrolled and unfocused, and her palm struck his chest with enough force to knock him a full step backward.

He attempted to recover, launching a wall of flame that veered too far. She stepped through the edge of it, absorbing the heat with barely a twitch, then drove her shoulder into his midsection, knocking the breath from his lungs.

Kaida tracked every motion, focused on learning from this duel. She was sure she wouldn't make a mistake that could ever lead to a duel with their Captain, but one could never be so sure. Besides, learning was always encouraged from her either way.

Lin's posture flowed with each strike, her footing never shifting without purpose. The man flailed once, attempting a high arc of fire toward her head, but she ducked beneath it and responded with a straight punch to the center of his torso, her metal knuckles glowing faintly from residual heat.

He stumbled, coughing while his arms were already faltering. But Lin didn't press further. She waited for him to lift his gaze. When he did, she advanced again, this time with flames on her hands.

The final blow landed as he bent instinctively to protect his core from the flames. Her leg swept up in a tight arc, the steel-plated limb connecting with his temple. He collapsed immediately, knocked unconscious, his limbs slack and unmoving.

For a few seconds, silence reigned. Lin stood above the body, her breathing controlled, her frame motionless. Then she formed a ball of compressed fire on her left hand. She kept feeding chi to it until her hand glowed orange, then released it at the downed garrison officer.

The sound of flames exploding outwards was deafening, like a roar of thunder. If dragons weren't extinct, Kaida imagined, they would sound just like that. It muted any sound for that moment. When she was finished, only a charred black figure remained.

Kaida exhaled through her nose, barely audible, then shifted her gaze to the soldiers around her. Some nodded in quiet recognition, while others averted their gaze. Some of the garrison officers had emptied their stomachs right there, and there were no cheers.

She was awed by the sheer power she commanded. Their captain was truly deserving of her position. Kaida hoped she could reach her level someday. Months ago, she thought she had no chance of being in this position, but Lin had promoted her in the end. Now she wanted to have that power to command, to demand respect.

Kaida's thoughts drifted only briefly before settling again on the woman who now turned from the center of the circle, retrieving her clothes but not yet dressing, then faced the circle of soldiers.

"Back to work people, I need two men to clean this up; the rest of you focus on loading the ship. Move it!"

Kaida stepped forward to begin organizing the dispersal, while their Captain walked towards the other garrison officers. She was certain no one would be foolish enough to disrespect her again.
​

---

Lieutenant Aiku remained at the edge of the dispersing formation, arms folded across his chest, eyes fixed on the smoking ruin at the center of the dueling ring. The scent of scorched flesh still clung faintly to the air, layered atop the acrid undertones of coal and the ever-present haze of the southern wind.

The body, or what remained of it, had already begun to cool, the fire having done its work quickly and without elegance.

He did not flinch at the violence; there was nothing in it that surprised him. If anything, it confirmed once more what he already knew: their captain was precisely the kind of leader this company required.

Uncompromising. On top of that, she had not made a spectacle of it. There had been no flourish in her movements, no pause for theatrics or unnecessary drama. No words were exchanged and she delivered judgment swiftly and mercilessly. Aiku respected that more than he could ever express.

Captain Lin did not operate within the soft expectations that plagued so much of the Fire Nation's senior command. She demanded performance, discipline, and absolute unity. And when challenged, even indirectly, she responded with clarity and force.

He had seen too many officers fall into posturing and half-measures. Too many were hesitant to act, fearful of the paperwork or the whispers that would follow a decisive command. But Lin… Lin never hesitated or shied away from doing additional work for the sake of eliminating a problem, rooting out future conflicts.

From the moment the garrison officer stepped into the ring, Aiku knew he was not leaving it out alive unless she wanted him to. The man had no strength, discipline or training that could match hers.

Aiku's gaze drifted across the soldiers still standing nearby. A few looked a bit shaken but nothing they hadn't seen before. The junior ranks, particularly those who had joined only in the past three months, were still adjusting to what it meant to serve in Red Company.

"They will learn eventually." he said to no one in particular.

Zhou approached from the left, arms folded and his expression unreadable. He said nothing at first and Aiku waited.

"I don't like it." Zhou said quietly. "I never have."

Aiku's gaze didn't leave the field. "Then you should be glad it's over quickly."

Zhou shifted his weight, boots grinding lightly on the dust-hardened road. "Doesn't change the fact that we have an officer down. Even if he was trash, he still knew the logistics of this village better than anyone else here."

"He also threatened a civilian with open flame." Aiku replied. "Insulted our captain in front of our entire company."

"Then strip him of rank. Send him back to the mainland."

Aiku glanced at him. "That would've made him resentful, probably worse in the future if he was let go. You know how these frontier garrisons operate. Half of them only respect strength, and the other half lie in wait for weakness."

Zhou frowned. "It's still a waste."

"I see it more as a lesson." Aiku said. "And it won't need to be repeated, if the look on those officers says anything."

Zhou said nothing for a while. Behind them, a pair of corporals lifted a broken cart wheel and began moving it toward the supply tent. One of Kaida's aides crossed toward the officers with a manifest sheet, but seeing them mid-conversation, veered away silently.

"She's too young to be this feared." Zhou muttered at last.

"Young? Certainly, but she is not only feared." Aiku said. "Some look at her in awe and admiration."

Zhou's jaw tightened. "Fear isn't always control, and awe can make people cruel and merciless."

"Yes, you are right. But she also has the discipline to always act within the laws and rules of our Nation. She wouldn't allow any one to go beyond her command, for cruelty's sake."

Zhou looked toward the blackened spot where the officer had fallen. "Ugh, I will have to write a report about this."

"I hate paperwork too. But you won't even have to lie on it, so that's nice." Aiku said. "The man violated rank protocol, disrespected and threatened both a superior officer and civilians under Fire Nation protection. The duel was legal, there were many witnesses, and there is no need to hide anything."

"Certainly." Zhou answered flatly.

"And she made it as clean as it could be." Aiku allowed.

Zhou gave a low breath through his nose. "I just hope this doesn't turn into a regular sight."

Aiku looked him over. "Well… I don't know about that, but I wouldn't worry about it too much. The captain will be made infamous soon enough and no one would dare to repeat that in front of her."

Kaida passed nearby, her eyes sweeping the formation. She gave them both a quick glance and the faintest nod before returning to her task, shouting for the third platoon to pick up the pace on the upper cartloads.

"She believes in her, at least." Aiku said, watching Kaida.

"She does." Zhou replied. "Captain Lin gave her rank and a place when others wouldn't."

"Gave us all a place."

Zhou didn't argue. He simply looked back toward the trail leading down to the village, where Lin had walked alone only minutes ago.

"I just don't like the waste. I hope we don't see many more of these." he repeated.

"You don't need to." Aiku said. "You just need to follow her orders, like the rest of us."

Zhou didn't reply, concern shadowing his face, but Aiku was sure he would eventually come to terms with it.
​

---

The village air still carried the taste of burned coal and dry wind. Lin's boots pressed into the loose dust of the main road as she made her way back from the dueling ground, a line of sweat drying beneath her shoulder seams, the venting plates along her back silent for now.

She had not redressed in full armor, only slipping her boots back on. Her black sleeveless undershirt, streaked faintly with dust from the duel, clung to her form as she moved with unhurried purpose down the hill.

She headed to the house of the woman she had defended earlier. Said woman stood just outside the doorway, her son a step behind her, clinging to the edge of the frame. She looked up as Lin approached, her expression guarded but composed.

"I owe you an apology. As the highest ranking officer in the village I should have maintained discipline better. I'm sorry." Lin said quietly.

The woman blinked. "This was happening all the time, it was nothing new. You're the one who stopped him."

"Still, I should've stopped him sooner." Lin replied. "He has been removed though, and won't be a threat to you anymore."

The woman's gaze flickered toward the ridge. "He's… gone, then?"

"Yes."

The silence stretched only a moment before the woman gave a slow nod. "I'm glad, he was quite awful, and might have turned insufferable if left unchecked."

She placed a hand on the child's shoulder, and the boy straightened slightly, though his eyes never left Lin's arms. His gaze tracked the metal seams that ran from her wrist to her elbow, lingering on the faint scars along the edge of her shoulder plate.

Surprisingly, there was no fear in his expression. Only the natural curiosity of a kid. Lin bent slightly at the waist, just enough to meet the boy's eyes.

"Protecting your mother was very noble, kid." she said.

"Hey! I'm not a kid anymore, I'm twelve already." he huffed.

She chuckled lightly. "I'm sure your mom will appreciate it if you stay out of danger though, so get stronger first before doing that again."

The boy nodded once, tightly. His voice was soft but steady. "Thank you for stopping them."

Lin gave a short, silent incline of her head before straightening again. She turned back to the woman.

"The garrison commander relocated most of your male population and most miners to an offshore rig." she said. "But not all of them are essential to operations. I'll be visiting the platform on our return route and see if I can return some of them."

The woman looked at her sharply. "You'll bring them back?"

"I'll negotiate their return. Enough to help restore village functions, establish a cooperative system, and stabilize the coal yield without overreliance on forced labor of your elders."

The woman's face tightened, then softened, her fingers brushing absently over her son's hair.

"My husband was taken from us."

"I see." Lin said. "Taking care of a shop and your son must be exhausting. I will see if he can be returned specifically to you. I will of course have to go over the rest of the villagers to see who to prioritize but I will try my best, you have my word. Have a good day."

She turned without waiting for acknowledgement. As she moved through the square, she caught the edge of a few whispered voices from villagers watching from doorways. She would need time to talk to everyone but it would have to be taken care of.

What mattered was that they were no longer afraid of the wrong uniforms.

A runner intercepted her near the village entrance, offering a scroll bearing the updated logistics reports. Lin scanned it quickly, her eyes trailing over the numbers, weight loads, and redistribution orders.

"Good job, carry on." She said while passing the scroll back and continued walking.

The village was alive again. Red Company soldiers moved between carts, shoveling and hauling with efficient pace. Kaida's voice echoed down the rows, coordinating and keeping pace as they loaded the cargo onto the ship.

Lin took her time speaking with most villagers and made notes to give priority to those that needed the help immediately. Then, heading back, she handed said notes to Lieutenant Kaida.

Lin caught sight of Zhou near the back ranks, his expression still unreadable. He didn't approach her, but that was fine. She knew that he didn't approve of the duel, so he probably would give her the silent treatment for some time.

She returned to the forward encampment just before sundown, the sky painted in slow strokes of red and gold. Lieutenant Aiku waited nearby.

"Preparations are complete." he said. "We can depart within the hour."

"Delay departure by one more hour." Lin replied. "I want the villagers to witness our departure and the orders we will give the garrison that remains behind. They need to know we will come back soon."

Aiku gave a short nod. As he turned away, Lin glanced once more toward the horizon.

If the focus, after almost ten decades, was finally on installing colonies and improving infrastructure then they needed the people living in said colonies to progress, not the other way around. She would have to make changes to how occupation was handled.

The problem was her rank was just that of a captain and she didn't know if she would have the authority to make said changes.

"Problem for the future." she said with a sigh.
​

---

Haru hadn't seen the duel, only heard what the other villagers said. The officer who had tormented them for the last year was now gone, burned so completely there was nothing left but smoke and ash.

It was rumored that the Fire Nation soldiers hadn't cheered, which was something that struck him. They hadn't shouted or raised their fists in celebration of their commander. They had just… moved on, as if it hadn't even happened.

He glanced toward the road, where the metal-armed girl had gone. Her presence pressed down like a full stormfront, quiet and heavy and impossible to ignore. It reminded him more of Earth-benders, like a wall of stone on the move.

Haru had grown up believing the Fire Nation only knew cruelty and oppression. But now one of their soldiers had defended his mother, spoken to them without judgement, and promised to bring their people back.

There was the problem of her having literally cooked someone to death in true Fire Nation cruel fashion which made him unsure whether he believed her. But he wanted to, which was odd for him.

He looked down at his hands, still callused from carrying buckets, and curled one into a fist. He would train harder and become stronger just as she had said. Earthbending had been his father's gift, and one day, he'd make it strong enough to protect his family.

Even against people like her.​

 

[Rotceh]

AN: I just realized that yesterday I notified all of you by replying this small comment, sorry about that, should have waited until today. I'm relatively new so please forgive me. Anyway enjoy!

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Don't worry, commenting is perfectly fine, as long as you don't mark it as info or extra, it will only appear as a message, not as a new chapter.

Wow, Lin not only has limbs but also internal modifications, right? I wonder what she's hiding inside her body.

 

[BanzEye]

Wow, Lin not only has limbs but also internal modifications, right? I wonder what she's hiding inside her body.

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*Sips tea* Lewd.

 

[Lucernello]

*Sips tea* Lewd.

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Hahaha, omg.

Don't worry, commenting is perfectly fine, as long as you don't mark it as info or extra, it will only appear as a message, not as a new chapter.

Wow, Lin not only has limbs but also internal modifications, right? I wonder what she's hiding inside her body.

Click to shrink...

Oh got it, cool!

I cannot unsee this now... Also yes, she does, I'm already working on a future chapter where you will know more details

 

[DarkinSage]

Fix your formatting. From chapter 2 onward, there's an excessive amount of double spaces between words, sucks to read.

 

[Lucernello]

Fix your formatting. From chapter 2 onward, there's an excessive amount of double spaces between words, sucks to read.

Click to shrink...

Hello! What you meant is the alignment, DarkinSage. It's on Justify text, it doesn't add double spaces, It creates more spacing to fill the entire row whenever possible. I just didn't realize my first chapter didn't have it, now it does, I find it more pleasing. I don't know why it bothers you so, but I won't change it.​