Avatar The Last Airbender Fan Fiction ❯ Bad Blood ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Armies were made of noise. It was a fact that Nebi had no will to dispute, particularly because he knew it to be true. A footman of the 37th Infantry since seventeen, Nebi was no novice to the militarism of his homeland. Making camp was second nature to him. He just wished it was a bit quieter and not for the first time in his life, he also wished he were an Earthbender as he slung dirt away from the trench he dug. In this part of the East the rebel forces they fought were resourceful and clever and so each time the army moved, a new fortress had to be constructed. Nebi was almost always delegated to trench digging on account of his age and strength, while others were assigned tasks like assembling the palisades or organizing the innards of the encampment.

But not Nebi. Nebi dug trenches.

“They say the reason we've moved here is because the rebels are after the port.”

Nebi paid little attention to his workmate. The fellow had been with the company since Nebi had joined it and gossiped like a woman so far as Nebi could tell. His name was Liu and he had only one ear (the exact nature of how he was parted from the other was unknown) but despite the fact, Liu heard more than anyone else Nebi knew and he had long given up trying to discern who 'they' were.

“And if they get the port, they'll be at the mainland in no time. And mark my words, no good'll come of that.”

“Consider them marked,” Nebi said gruffly, a shovelful of dirt flying over his thick shoulder.

Liu shook his head and tossed his own dirt, “You never listen to the facts, Nebi. It's like you live in a cloud.”

“I don't think I'm the one ignoring facts,” Nebi offered.

He wasn't. He knew, generally, what the rebels wanted. Currently the ones who opposed the Fire Lord's rule were on the outskirts of the mainland, claiming first the small islands then the larger. The mainland was the prize to be kept or won. But the rebels were weak, no matter how clever they were. The numbers remained and Nebi's company alone boasted 1,200 without the auxiliary troops that camped with them. Other companies were scattered about the island and an even larger amount of men patrolled the gulf seas in great battleships of steel. There was no reason to think they would be overpowered and Nebi had considerable faith in his commanders, most particularly Lieutenant Bo.

He dug some more and he wasn't afraid.

He was, however, a bit homesick. This was in spite of the fact the rebellion and war had robbed him of his home in Shu Jing. Shu Jing was a distant village to the mainland and being so, it had been among the first to fall after the rebellion began. Piandao's castle burned to the ground and the sword master was murdered by the rebels as their first act of war on Lord Zuko and, inadvertently, the White Lotus. Nebi's family was counted among the war's displaced and so they found a temporary home in the capital's refugee district. It wasn't much, but it was enough – a little clay house with a good, thick roof and a bed for his mother and another for his wife and little daughter, Tahirah. Nebi's chest ached as he thought of the little girl he had been forced to leave behind three weeks prior when his time of leave ended. Ten months of duty, two months of leave. That was the life of a soldier and Nebi had ten months to wait until he saw his baby girl again.

Or her mother.

Nebi bit his lip and forced himself to focus on his work as images of Isid bombarded him from all corners of his mind. Isid as he met her surfaced, young with a ribbon in her hair and summer freckles on her face. Isid when they were a few years older, drunken on summerwine and curled in his arms, begging him to have her then and there. Isid thanking him the next day for simply taking her home when other boys might have been inclined to do exactly as she asked.

Nebi never told her how tempted he had been.

Beside him, Liu measured their stretch of the trench, judging it to meet requirements. “C'mon, Nebi. We're finished here.”

Nebi nodded and climbed from the trench, winding around the other diggers to enter through the newly erected palisades. The gate was only an open space in the wall, constantly guarded by sentries when camp was past the construction phase and fully functional once more. As they walked, men shot them dark looks from where they continued to work. Nebi ignored them. It was not his fault he and Liu were good at digging trenches. Filthy, the pair went to the tent where they would be quartered.

The 37th  was divided further from its 1,200 hands into six companies of two hundred, each two hundred broken into one, each one to fifty. The small groups of fifty were then parted into groups of ten, and those ten men were to share a tent and feed themselves if necessity called for it. That was how the camp worked. It was so common now for them that their superiors had little to nothing over which to fret each time the battalion moved. Wordlessly, Nebi and Liu ducked into their tent.

At the center were the cots, all neatly rolled, and their ten man team's packs and equipment. So well oiled was the machine of the Fire Nation infantry that the bulk of the army could be away at one task while the rest set the camp in order and all the proper equipment found its way to the tent where it belonged despite the owner being somewhere else entirely. A man's only responsibility for his things after a task was assigned him was making sure his pack made it to his designated drop off point. Nebi took his pack and cot and claimed a spot of ground for himself, Liu doing the same, and as they settled, Liu gossiped some more. Nebi was disinclined to listen and instead he stripped off his sweaty tunic and removed his boots and socks, stretching out on his cot pretending to give ear.

His mind drifted back to his family. How big would Tahirah be the next time he saw her? She was nearly three years old now, but at the end of his term she would be much closer to four. And Isid... Nebi closed his eyes, remembering how she writhed beneath him his last night at home. He missed her so much already; would he be able to make it ten months?

“Nebi?” Liu called uncertainly.

Nebi, having made himself very unhappy, rolled over and ignored him.

Liu seemed to accept the fact that Nebi would listen no more and Nebi heard the vague sounds of the man busying himself with his pack. Finally, the noise died and Liu nestled on his own cot and the two men spent a time lounging and resting, preparing for the missions they would undoubtedly run the next day. Others of their ten man cell wandered in as their work was completed. A haggard looking man who carried sketches of a beautiful woman and two handsome children in his breast pocket that, if asked, would admit to creating the artwork himself came first. He was followed by a pair of brothers so identical Nebi referred to them simply as One and Two. As the newcomers assembled their things the cell's only female member entered, a stout woman Nebi knew to be a particularly ruthless Firebender. She snatched her things from the center pile and retreated to the far end of the tent away from the others and Nebi made note to himself not to cross her.

“The trench isn't finished,” One said to Nebi as he unrolled his cot nearby. Like Nebi, the brothers One and Two were often assigned trench duty. “If it isn't done by nightfall they're going to call out all the diggers again for a night dig.”

Nebi could have groaned. Night digs, while not a difficult task, had a tendency to make the day that followed excruciating. On the chance that the trenches were not dug in to an acceptable level before darkness fell, lanterns and torches were lit and by the dim light the task was worked until it was completed. It didn't matter how late the men worked, however, they were still to be awake and preparing for whatever new tasks needed doing at five the next morning. Nebi's mood grew bleak as he recalled the last night dig he had participated in some weeks before his leave. They had been in the trenches until four and he had barely managed thirty minutes rest before having to get a move on again. He cursed.

“Why can't they just call us out to dig again now, while there's still light?” he asked, fully exasperated with the situation even though it had not even happened.

One shrugged, “No idea. If it makes sense command doesn't do it. You know that.”

Nebi silenced. He didn't like the off-handed way that One had insulted their commanding officers, but he let it go. Probably One was just as disenchanted with the looming night dig as he was and One could be forgiven for that. Nearby Liu and the artist were discussing the night dig as well, while Two seemed to be trying to sleep right then to make up for the sleep he would certainly lose later. Nebi was just beginning to contemplate sleep himself when a man in the regalia of a major ducked his head inside of the tent.

“We're under attack. All hands are needed. Defend the wall.”

He was gone in an instant and Nebi was on his feet even faster, yanking his boots on and still pulling his tunic over his head as he and the other members of his cell ran from the tent to the wall. He had just managed to fit his arms through the sleeves when the first blow hit him, a small puff of flame that burned through the fabric at his thigh but failed to harm the scar tissue that was already there. He had been burned worse in his life and the sting at his side was more of a tickle than a pain.

Beside Nebi, Two ducked and Nebi followed suit without question. A jet of fire Nebi had not seen sailed over them and Nebi was glad to have Two's eyes then in addition to his own. They scrambled up a solid-looking portion of the palisades and Two peered over the edge briefly before ducking back down out of the rebels' view.

“There are some men dead in the trenches,” Two said flatly, his controlled battle tone taking precedence over whatever emotion he felt. “I'd judge there to be forty, maybe fifty rebel benders hiding out towards the woods.”

More curses left Nebi's lips. “How long have they been there, watching us work?”

“No idea,” Two shrugged. “But I don't think this is going to be a sustained attack.”

Nebi nodded in agreement. If the rebels had been posted on the edge of their encampment the whole day, they had to have seen the bulk of the army at work and know they were fully out numbered. It was folly to stage an attack on the makeshift base. They had to know that a surplus of nine hundred Firebenders and trained soldiers were waiting to pour out from the wall at any moment. Unless, of course, the attack wasn't meant to be a battle.

Perhaps it was a warning. We are on this island, and you will never see us coming.

“C'mon,” Nebi said, leading Two from the safety of their cache and back into the fray.

Above the noise Nebi heard the cries of Lieutenant Bo, urging his men out of the wall and to give chase to the rebels in the wood who were beginning to flee. Nebi accepted the call and Two followed him from the gate. He attacked the first rebel he saw with no restraint, fire flying from his palm and licking the face of the rebel who screamed in agony. Nebi felt nothing to see the man die. He fully understood that if their positions were reversed, if this rebel was killing a soldier, no mercy would be given and so Nebi would show no mercy himself. He attacked another, a woman, scorching her in such a way that when she fell to the ground the burned skin sloughed away on contact.

Beside him Two attacked in much the same manner.

The rebel army retreated fully and Nebi watched the survivors backs as they disappeared from view. They had given chase enough and his fingers burned from their own flames. Slowly his tired limbs fell to his side and he straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders slowly. The smoke that inevitably followed battle hung thickly about him along with the wretched odors of the dead that remained to permeate the air. Scents of blood, sweat, urine and charred flesh assaulted most violently but Nebi took little to no notice. Instead he sighed, the sound long and relaxed. The battle did not bother him and he took it with comfortable ease despite the gruesomeness of the affair. He simply chose not to think on it.

He had never given it thought; why would he spend time mulling it over now? Fire Lord Zuko's war was nearing its fifth birthday and Nebi had been a part of it since the beginning, but the politics of it were none of Nebi's concern. Nebi was a soldier, not a politician. Yes, he had his opinions about the succession just as every Fire Nation citizen did but Nebi kept them to himself. A soldier's place was to do not to sit back to talk and speculate, no matter what Liu seemed to think.

Nebi was a patriot. He loved the Fire Nation dearly and for all its faults, he was proud to call it his home. It was his duty to protect and preserve and those were the reason he had joined the army in the first place. After the Great War, the war which Avatar Aang had ended, Firebenders no longer had to serve mandatory years in the military, but Nebi had done so anyway. It had been a pivotal time in the outer islands when people declared either loyalty or opposition to the Fire Lord in mass, and Nebi had chosen loyalty in the extreme no matter what his mother had threatened trying to make him stay. Mai didn't want her only child fighting a war and Nebi understood that, but how could he have sat by and watched? Nebi was meant to defend and that was precisely what he did.

Besides, wasn't it Mai's opinion that the three princes weren't to blame that had helped form Nebi's own opinion? An opinion which was largely the same? There were two facts that upset the rebels. The first was that the three princes were, like their mother, Waterbenders. The second was that the eldest prince, Malik, would be Fire Lord. It was tradition that the crown pass father to son. Even small offices were passed through family lines, as were trades and business in the villages. But the resistance against the Waterbending prince had risen regardless, first in drunken slurs and whispers and then in direct attacks. Zuko would not listen to them, but the rebels were all proud people of Fire who refused to be governed by a Waterbender. They pointed to Zuko's failings with what were commonly called the abandoned colonies as evidence of a poor rule and a poor line. Others took the slander further, citing the Phoenix King Ozai's stolen power from the late Lord Iroh of the White Lotus as making Fire Lord Zuko's rule both null and void.

That was where Nebi stopped trying to follow the intrigue and began to follow orders. He swore an allegiance to Fire Lord Zuko and he would honor the vow until his death. That in mind, he turned and followed Two out of the carnage and back to camp.


Heng needed to shut up.

The general's account of the West was beginning to drawl and Prince Malik was utterly and completely bored with it. As the council of generals and advisers prolonged the meeting the eldest prince found himself increasingly agitated and restless. There were so many better, greater things that he could be doing yet instead he was stuck at his father's right side while General Heng recounted events that Malik had already memorized.

The trials and tribulations of a crown prince.

He examined his brothers, the lesser princes. There was Kanaan at his father's left, sixteen and four years Malik's junior. Both Malik and Kanaan had their father's look about them and were both powerfully built with muscle to spare. Kanaan was quite tall, taller than Malik by a half a head, while Malik was stocky and thick. Beside Kanaan sat the baby, Zubin. He was their mother's son, dark skinned and brown headed. The twelve year old's blue eyes were focused on the map before them, his lean body tense.

This was Zubin's first war council, or at least the first he had to sit upon. Malik recalled times before that Zubin had been present along the wall to listen and observe, but this was the first time Zubin was being allowed to sit with his brothers and father. Malik swelled with pride for the boy before turning his own attention to the map.

The depiction of the Fire Nation was startling if one wasn't trained to read it. Islands were shaded in various colors, and markers indicating troops were placed here or there with a different set of markers representing the rebel armies. There was no key. One simply had to know that a red island remained imperial, that a yellow island was battle ground, that a black island was lost. The subtle differences between the markers, which indicated both the number and branch of troops stationed at that point, were harder to differentiate. Malik lifted his gaze back to Heng where the general appeared to be finishing his report.

"... they have ceased their efforts for the time being, my Lord, but we do not know what they are planning to do next," he finished. Unusually large even for a military man, General Heng had built his entire career on intimidation. The fact his ability as a tactician met no rival in all of the Fire Nation was not a negative attribute, either.

As the General's words settled, Malik watched as Zuko turned to Zubin. "And what do you suppose we should do, Zubin?"

To his credit, the boy looked neither startled nor alarmed to be addressed so suddenly. His brow furrowed slightly Malik noticed, but the older prince felt it inconsequential. Zubin thought a moment and responded well.

“If the rebels have ceased as the General says,” Zubin began carefully, “it stands to reason that they are in the process of regrouping and replenishing their means. A strategic strike at them now would decommission them.”

Zuko turned away from the young prince at his left and addressed the older at his right. "And what do you say, Malik?"

He examined the map again, looking for any sign that Zubin was off base then tore his eyes away to respond to his father. "I believe Zubin is generally correct, sir," Malik said respectfully.

"Generally?"

"Yes," Malik said. "Attacking now would be the best thing for our armies to do, but a single strike would be ineffective. The rebels are a guerilla type, and so I believe it would take a quick bout of many raids to have a chance at crippling them."

Zuko nodded, seemingly pleased with his son's analysis. “Good eye,” the Fire Lord said before shifting his attention back to the remaining generals who needed to give report. “General Guotin.”

A graying man stood and Heng sat. "My lord,” Guotin said, “things are not faring as well in the East as General Heng reports of the West..."

Malik didn't listen closely to Guotin as once again he had already read and memorized the reports of the East as he had the West. The westerners were gaining traction, laying claim to a few large island and setting their sights for the first time on major ports. While the potential takeovers were not a large concern to Malik – he understood that as an island nation, it was impossible for the rebels to ever form a complete blockade and cause damage to the mainland – his father was ever worried that the capture of ports would cause hardship for the cutoff islanders.

Guotin's report was concise in comparison to Heng's extensive speech, and quickly the council began to argue the point of whether or not to send aid. Men began to raise their voices and quite suddenly, the various fires within the room blazed with new life. Malik looked to his father as the source of this, unsurprisingly finding the Fire Lord's expression to have darkened, his bearded face seeming to grow long and mean. Malik shifted as the roaring flames caused the temperature to climb uncomfortably.

“Enough,” said Zuko, turning away from the quarreling council and fixing his attention on Malik. “General Guotin, you will meet with Prince Malik for deeper discussion and execute the orders he gives. Is this understood?”

There was a chorus of affirmation and the council continued, dropping the subject of the East completely as the final decision now rested on Prince Malik's shoulders. The responsibility was not a weight to the prince but rather he reveled in it. His father trusted him completely and he was often delegated the burden of executive choice. It was Zuko's way of showing his generals and his people that Malik was still the future and still being groomed to be Fire Lord despite the civil war rife among the islands.

Malik sat back as the discussion turned to the navy, and then to the abandoned colonies and the threat of King Kuei taking action against what remained of the Fire Nation's foreign soil. Zuko silenced the squabbling generals once more and dismissed the meeting on the spot. Malik knew the abandoned colonies were a hard subject to his father, one that caused grief between he and the Avatar over how to handle the issue. Avatar Aang supported Kuei's desire for the Fire Nation to leave the Earth Kingdom shores, but his father saw that the old colonies were too tied to the land to be forced out of their homes. Negotiations had been dead on the matter since Malik was a little boy and while both great nations had adopted a hands-off policy regarding the colonies to avoid war with one another, feelings were still bitter between the Earth King and the Fire Lord.

The crown prince left the stifling room, pulling at his high collared shirt and motioning that both Heng and Guotin follow. The generals trailed after him without question, recognizing the prince as their superior and not daring to disobey. Malik was quite aware that he was known for his temper, a rumor that he took no measures to dispel or perpetuate. He lead the two generals through the dark, flame lit inner halls out into the warmer courtyards of the palace and ended their walk by the small pond where his father kept turtle ducks. The generals shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, but Malik felt secure in the gardens. The familiar weight of his armor bore down on his strong shoulders and their bulk gave him the appearance of a larger stature.

He had stopped by the pond deliberately; he always preferred to hold his private talks near sources of water. It was a silent threat that they were near to Malik's element and if need be, the prince could give a demonstration of the incredible strength and agility he enjoyed. By the pond his presence was one that radiated intimidation and the cool, relaxed and deadly grace of an experienced Waterbender. Beside him the generals appeared clumsy but Malik either did not notice or did not care as he spoke quietly to them.

“I expect you to both to work together to solve the issue of the ports,” Malik said evenly, allowing no room for protest. “General Guotin, while you are a treasured and respected member of our council and I value you greatly, I feel that it is best to bring a fresh mind to the matter. I have selected General Heng.”

General Guotin kept his face impassive. “An excellent notion, Prince Malik.”

The prince nodded at the elder general. “I will send for you in the afternoon. Prepare a detailed report and analysis for myself and General Heng by then so that we all might make better decisions.”

“Yes, Prince Malik.”

“You are dismissed, General Guotin.”

The general nodded and left the courtyard swiftly while Malik turned his attention to General Heng. He fixed the second general with a weighty stare and Heng stood up straighter beneath the scrutiny. Malik knew that Heng must know what he would say next and when Heng ventured to make eye contact with the prince, Malik did not miss the slyness in the general's eye.

"You are my most trusted friend, General Heng," Malik said confidently.

The general remained silent and Malik remained as relaxed as ever. Malik was the sort of prince that would mature into a king that slouched on his throne. Heng swallowed hard and Malik continued.

"As my most trusted friend," Malik said, his eyes trained on a baby turtle duck and its mother, "you are also the first that comes to mind for carrying out my most private business."

At this Malik turned toward General Heng expectantly, and Heng instantly stood up straighter still. "Yes, Prince Malik."

Malik smiled, the appearance almost sinister in its mirror of the Fire Lord's grin. The prince and his father shared much in the way of looks, from the way their lips curled in a grin to the brooding expression that both seemed to default to without reason. Malik's face at that moment, however, was contorted into a look resembling pleasure at Heng's acceptance of his unspoken terms.

"Excellent,” the prince said. “In time I will begin to transfer responsibility for the East to you as I gave you the West. Prepare yourself, general, and be sure that you subdue the troops there swiftly. Am I clear?”

Heng nodded, “Yes, Prince Malik.”

The wicked smile lit the prince's face once more. “Thank you, General Heng. You are dismissed.”

The general turned on his heel and left the courtyard to begin his preparations just as Prince Malik had known he would. Heng was smart, a tactical genius, but so very, very easy to predict and control. He was greedy. Power-hungry. It was as simple as waving a promotion in front of him to ensure that he would behave appropriately and do as he was told. There had been rough spots, yes, such as shortly after he had orchestrated the man's promotion to general, but once Malik had made it abundantly clear that he could take away all that he had given, Heng had been no trouble at all. In fact the General had performed so admirably in taking care of the western regiments it only made sense to move him to the East where he could adequately recreate his success.

Malik sat down on the bank of the pond, absently bending the water into tiny whirlpools which devastated the peaceful turtle ducks. It was a simple equation. Heng had only one job to do and that was to place the bulk of the infantry in the position to be exterminated. They were only brainless footmen, anyway. Common folk with the only thing in the world he could possibly want; the ability to control and bend the flame. But they were an eerily loyal lot with lieutenants and majors who could not be easily swayed to join Malik's cause, and so they had to be swept out of the way.

Prince Malik already had the allegiance of the navy, and he had practically raised up the budding air army from the few airships left over from his grand father's offensive he had been given command of at sixteen to the powerful fleet it was now. The ground army was the issue and because they would not readily slaughter in Malik's name, they themselves needed butchering. Already Malik was purging the capital of his political rivals and with the ground army's impending annihilation, he would be able to cultivate a scenario to render his father indisposed of as well. He would then sweep in with his navy and air army to destroy the remaining resistance and solidify himself as the Fire Lord undisputed. It was ambitious, Malik knew, but also necessary. His father was so weak-willed.

And if Fire Lord Zuko wouldn't go to war with Earth King Kuei for the abandoned colonies, Fire Lord Malik would.

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