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The Chong Sheng Trilogy: War by rachelthedemon

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The Chong Sheng Trilogy

PART I: War

Chapter 15: The Escape

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Zuko held his breath for that moment as the soldier advanced, trading apprehensive glances with Sokka and Katara while the three of them closed around Iroh defensively. He swallowed hard, military training kicking in as he assessed their surroundings. Mostly for possible escape routes for the other two.

Which was going to be a lot trickier as the man's friends stepped in behind him to investigate.

"Kai? You find something?"

He smirked, stepping aside to let his comrade in. A younger boy, still a teenager by the look of his smooth features. "Oh did I. How much you think their heads will fetch?"

His eyes widened, a hand shooting up to his mouth as it fell open.

Kai laughed, twirling the saber in his hand with unbridled smugness. "Yeah, I thought so, too."

Zuko felt Sokka's arm press into his as they backed up toward Iroh. His heart pounded against his ribs. "We can't leave him," he whispered.

"I know," he whispered back. "But we have to get out of here."

"Not all of us do," Katara murmured, backing in to close the shield, close enough for Zuko to feel her breath on his shoulder. "You two run for it. I'll hold them off until your uncle gets back to his body."

Zuko's stomach did a sickening flip, landing somewhere in his chest at the thought. "Are you crazy? You against a whole outpost?"

"What choice do we have?" she hissed.

None. He hated admitting it. Somebody would have to stay there with him, and there was no one better than a Waterbender to make sure he had a body to get back to. His stomach tightened at how she'd offered to help him long ago, after Azula had struck him with lightning. And how he'd declined her aid with a panicked fireblast.

He could afford to be foolish then. Not this time.

"You can't do that!" Sokka snapped, but still in a whisper.

"I can and I will," she growled. "Now get going. We don't have time!"

Zuko didn't see a point in wasting a second of it, grabbing Sokka's arm and yanking him away down the nearest passage despite the boy's best effots to wrench out of that grip. He finally succeeded once they were in the outer ring to the courtyard, whirling on him with his sword brandished. The same one he'd retrieved from the warship's crew.

"What the holy flying hell are you doing? We can't leave her like that!"

"We have to," he said. "Somebody needs to defend Uncle while the other two draw attention away fom them."

"But--"

"It's the only way," he cut him off. "Now come on!"

The whistle of a blade flew past his ear, as though to prove his point. They both turned in time to see the man called Kai down the passage, brandishing his saber as the man flanking him twirled a second and third knife between his fingers. All of them grinning dangerously.

"You really think I'm going let my reward money get away?"

Sokka scowled at him, then shifted his eyes back to Zuko. "Fine. You win this round, asshole."

Zuko found himself smirking, despite the insult. "Good. Now shut up and help me kick some."

Kai rushed them as Zuko drew his own broadswords, and Sokka barely managed to duck a fistful of thrown daggers. The clang of blades meeting each otherb under the moonlight bounced off the stone corridor with a sharp, fierce cadence between ducking and spinning out of each other's way. He found himself backed against the wall, narrowly avoiding the thrusts of Kai's weapon.

He edged along the wall in dodges, guiding the man's attacks until a narrow seam of the masonry rested at the back of his head. He held the position for those precious few seconds as Kai reared his arm back for a skull-piercing thrust right between his brows.

Zuko moved. Wrenched out of the way a hairsbreadth ahead of the steel.

The blade sank deep into the crack, slicing into the mortar with a loud skirr. Kai cursed as he yanked on the hilt, the grip of the masonry holding fast. Enough for Zuko to nail him in the side with flying kick. The man's own grip proved to be much weaker than the stone, for he went sprawling onto the cobbles with a grunt, turning halfway to give Zuko a poisonous glare, white moonlight glinting in his black eyes.

He was back up and swinging in less than three seconds. And his fist proved more difficult to dodge than his blade. Zuko ducked a swing that would've easily dislocated his jaw, using the opening to ram his elbow into the man's rib cage. Kai reeled, giving Zuko the opportunity to sweep his foot into a sidekick to the man's jaw. Again, he went tumbling to the ground. Only this time he didn't get up.

Zuko had less than a moment to appreciate the victory before Sokka's loud yelp made him look up. A good forty feet down the passage, the boy was pinned to the wall by his clothes with an impressive collection of knives, looking very much not pleased as Kai's buddy advanced on him with his saber. Zuko burst into a run, skidding the last few feet and nailing the unsuspecting soldier with a chop to the back of the neck. He joined Kai a moment later, prone on the cobbles and not moving.

He pulled the blades from Sokka's clothes, tossing them over his shoulder as the boy took up his weapon again. "Thanks, man. I owe you."

"Come on," Zuko snapped, though it came out a lot more gruff than he'd intended.

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head, biting his tongue for now. "Not yet."

****


She was beginning to wonder if this really was one of her not-so-great ideas. Certainly the soldiers whose spears and knives she was dodging made her think so, what with the way she had to imitate that circus freak to avoid getting a knife in the back. Her brother would've agreed, but then he was more apt to spazz and go on a ten-point dodging spree in the middle of a battle than anyone she'd known.

Her palms flattened wide as she lunged to the side and swung her arm, sweeping the water in a razor-thin, lightning-fast whip that would've severed a limb were her assailant a second too slow. Fortunately for him he was quick enough to save his arm, but not so much as to escape entirely. He cried out, staggering and dropping his sword to reach a hand over to clutch the top of his shoulder, blood starting to trail over his uniform where she'd sliced right through his two-layered armor.

The man's companion stared her down, eyes narrowing. "Fast little hussy, ain't she?"

She backed closer to Iroh, parting her feet in a wider stance and flexing her hands in anticipation. Besides the two in front of her, she heard the steps of another pair to her left flank, just beyond the alcove wall.

"No shit," the injured one growled. "How about we up the ante a bit? See how fast she is with more targets, huh?"

His partner grinned. "Sounds like a plan. Whaddya say, boys? We give her something to play with?"

She shifted her eyes in a sidelong glance at the sound of boots scraping on stone. The two that were hiding on her flank emerged, one chuckling and drawing his own saber while his comrade twirled a pair of butterfly knives between skilled fingers. "Count me in. She looks a little bored."

The man with the knives chuckled. "Don't worry, little lady. Give us a good time, and we'll return the favor."

The feeling in her stomach at those words was decidedly...icky. Yet her feet eased back into a more stable, defensive stance, eyes darting around at each one of them and waiting with racing heart and still breath for someone to make a move.

The one with the injured shoulder struck first, rushing her from the side. She sidestepped it rather than blocked, letting his momentum carry him while she called up a handy ice shield to deflect one of his companion's butterfly blades. The third man leapt into a sharp downward strike, in hopes of dodging an attack and getting the figurative and literal drop on her.

She heard the whistle of the blade long before she saw him, skidding to the side of his landing and meeting him with an ice-whip that made the blade itself shudder in his hands, and charged it with an instant arctic chill. He dropped it with a curse and a clatter, and she brought whip around to knock a trio of knives off a course straight for her back.

The first man dug his heels in to stop himself, turning to face her. "The game's getting a little stale, don't you think?"

She flexed her hands, the water whip moving slowly in front of her as though anticipating her oppoenents' next move. "It's only just begun."

"Quit the riddle-talk and fight." He smirked. "Or are you too afraid to play with real men?"

Her hands tensed. "Boys don't scare me."

The man scowled, bringing his sword out, moonlight glinting menacingly on the blade's edge, and merely growling his answer before he struck. She whirled the water to knock his blade aside, narrowly avoiding another handful of knives, one grazing her ear with a light sting. The second saber whistled past her hip as its wielder rushed her, and she heard the rip as blade's point caught the sleeve of her robe, slamming her wrist against the stone.

She tried to pull her arm away from the wall, only to find it held fast and tight by the fabric, the sword sunk well into the mortar between the stones. Heart pounding with the knowledge that this was about to turn very bad if she couldn't do something, she reached with her other hand to try and free herself.

Another blade flew in to join the first. One of the butterfly daggers, pinning her other wrist to the stone in a similar fashion. She looked up, swallowing hard as the remaining three of them advanced on her. One twirling his saber, another handling a knife, and the third licking the blade of his remaining butterfly dagger.

"Awww, looks like we're scaring her now, ain't we?"

She stared them down solidly, despite the quiver in her knees, straining against the pinning blades. But she had no leverage and even less luck, held down so fast she couldn't even move her hips.

The one looming over her licked his lips. "So, sweetheart... How's it feel to play with the big boys...?"

She was about to retort when a blast of fire shattered the inky night gloom behind him, the heat and roar and sudden brightness of it making her wince. Though she couldn't turn around to look, she didn't need to.

"Where are your manners, handling a lady so roughly?"

The soldier growled, turning in the direction of the voice. "Get outta here, old man!"

She couldn't help the grin. Or the shudder of relief. Finally!

"Old man?" Iroh chuckled. "If you treat your elders as harshly as you treat women, you really should be ashamed of yourselves." His tone hardened. "Now I suggest you unhand her. I would prefer not to incinerate you where you stand."

The man's hand trembled on his sword in anger. "You asked for it, geezer! Get him!"

But much to his consternation, the three of them stood still as the stone itself.

"I gave you an order!"

The one with the butterfly knife spoke up first. "You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you? That's the Dragon of the freakin' West! Are you crazy?"

He trained his snarl on the three of them instead. "Cowards, the lot of you. If you're not gonna take him, I will!" He pulled his sword free of the stone, whirling on a heel to rush Iroh.

She took the opportunity for all it was worth, pulling out the butterfly knife with her freed hand and hurling a speedy water whip in a wide arc toward her remaining assailants. They tried to scramble out of its way, but proved to be not quite fast enough on their feet, meeting the far wall face-first instead.

She turned to Iroh, who had affected a similar treatment on the other soldier, for the man lay prone and still on the ground. "Did you get the message to him?"

He nodded. "Where are the boys?"

"They went to go get our ship ready while I stalled those goons."

"Then let's find them. We need to lweave before the rest of the temple knows we're here."

She followed him as they both took off down the passage, wondering for the first time if their efforts would even pay off. A ragtag group of less than ten against a full fleet of war balloons. The odds seemed like a no-brainer.

Never say that. The minute you start believing such things...

He was right. At the moment, hope was one of the few things they had.

****


"C'mon," Sokka panted. "We beached to the east. We have to exit this way!"

Zuko followed him, knowing better than to question a Water Tribesman's sense of direction. Especially after Iroh told him the story of the old master who navigated the two of them through rock-filled shallows in the middle of a great fog. Their feet pounded the stone like a child's drum as they ran, fast approaching the fork at the passage's end.

Zuko's eyes widened at the sound of an opposing rhythm, approaching from around the left corner, about as fast they were running, hitting the upbeat of their own. But the sound wasn't the same as the hard boots his military brethren with which the temple was crawling wore, rather the softer, scraping impact of moccasins.

He lunged forward, grabbing Sokka's wrist and pulling him back and hissing in his ear. "Stop! There's someone ahead of us!"

The boy opened his mouth to protest, but immediately thought better of it. "More soldiers?"

Zuko shook his head, pulling them both to flatten against the wall. "No. Wrong shoes." He hoped to high heavens it was their two remaining comrades, but he wasn't about to assume anything.

Sokka shivered, keeping his eyes trained on the end of the passage as well as the sound pounded closer. Right on top of them. About to round the corner. Zuko's heart jumped into his throat, feet turning and parting and readying themselves to jump into battle stance at a half-second's notice.

Two figures rounded the corner toward them, and his whole body would've collapsed in a sigh of relief had he not had the wall in back of him.

"Sis!"

"Uncle!"

They caught up to each other, Sokka sparing Katara a brief hug while Zuko smiled in gratitude he dared not voice, mostly for fear of jinxing it. "Boy are we glad to see you two."

"The feeling is mutual," Iroh agreed. "But we can save the celebrating for later. Right now, we need to get back to the ship."

Sokka nodded. "Follow me, then. Before those thugs wake up and alert their buddies."

****


Jin knelt by the fireside, holding her hands out to let it warm them, as she'd forgotten just how cold things were this far underground. Her ankle rested on the cradle of a folded blanket, and she was pleased to find the pain and swelling had diminished over the night. The kettle hung over the fire, and she sighed as she waited for it to boil.

The soft scuff of a hard sole on the rocky ground made her look up, smiling at Shen's towering form in the firelight. "Can't sleep, either?"

He nodded. "I don't know how the others do it some nights." He gestured to the empty space beside her. "May I?"

She chuckled. "I can't exactly drink a whole pot myself."

He cracked a nervous smile, easing down to join her. "And General Iroh would be horrified at the thought of wasted tea."

"That he would." She frowned. "Where do you plan to station the men?"

"We have a battallion of fifty-eight, which is enough to cover the entrances in the city's southeast quadrant with two men to a portal. One to spread the word, the other to direct refugees to the central camp. With any luck, some will actually listen to us. We'll be moving out to position in a few hours."

She nodded, turning to look up at him, the question on the tip of her tongue but stopped by the doubt of whether or not she should ask. It was none of her business and she knew it, but that did nothing to diminish her curiosity. "You said you deserted the military after the siege. Why?"

He stared into the flames, the glow of them making his eyes look misty and accentuating the lines on his face, making him appear older than she knew he was. "When you're in the trenches, there are times you must do things you should never be proud of, even if it's for the sake of others' lives. My men and I...we were tired of it. As tired as General Iroh himself." He sighed, letting his eyes close. "War is madness, Lady. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

She swallowed thickly, following his gaze into the heart of the swirling fire. "My father always said that war is little more than a vicious cycle of hatred. And when it goes on as long as this one has, the reason it even started is forgotten."

"Your father was a very wise man."

She smiled. "Yes. He was."

The whistle of the kettle brought her out of her thoughts, and she quickly took it off the hook, pouring the water into the teapot. "I hope chamomile's okay with you."

"Chamomile's perfect. I think all our nerves can use the calming." He took the cup from her, sipping it. "Thank you."

"Life must be...difficult...underground for a Firebender. What with the separation from the sun and all."

He nodded. "It is. But if there's anything my master taught me, it's that it isn't the sun itself that a Firebender draws power from, but the spirit of the sun. A spirit which we channel through our 'Inner Fire.'"

She quirked a brow. "Inner Fire?"

"Our own driving spirit. Our motivation, our goals, and the determination to see them reached. Even if we're separated from the sun, our strength will only wane if the Inner Fire does." He smiled, turning to her.

"Above all else, there are two things every Firebender needs to remember. We must never give up without a fight. And we must never forget who we are."


TO BE CONTINUED...


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