Luke

The air smelled of burnt, no, burning flesh. Coming out of that now lit hole in the ground, orange and yellow with the flames of a long battle, the smell spread over the battlefield, now rich with corpses, both friend and foe. The worst part was, it smelled good. If I were to close my eyes, I may have imagined I was back in the Hive, cooking a large rat over a small flame, seated next to me would be Ladle, Trap, Riu, and all the others as we told stories or made grand extraneous plans of how we'd get through the inner walls and live a life as a real human, and not some slum rat. They wouldn't live that dream, but I would. And here I was, a normal person, damn near salivating over the smell over the smell of my handiwork burning dozens of unarmed men alive. What the fuck was wrong with me. Lu Ten gave me those orders: Head down that latter with my firebenders and burn them out of those holes.

I did just that. I went down there and followed orders. The godforsaken smell attested to that. I was just following orders. I did what I was sent to do. So why did I feel so terrible about it. I even, in some sick way, enjoyed it. What the hell is wrong with me? I was scared for my own life for so long and now, despite being years younger, I held the power in the palms of my hand. And I used that power. I used my powers to torment those weaker than me, sending them to a fiery grave. What in this damned earth is wrong with me? Why did I enjoy it? Was I just so sick of being inferior for so long? Was it because, for so long, I feared the smallest shadow in Citadel, knowing that, whether be it the smallest rat or a psychotic slum kid with a knife, it could kill me, and that I was so sick of that fear and that weakness that now that I had a way to not only fight back, but win, I enjoyed it despite the pain I inflicted?

It wasn't just me. No. Others too. I played a small role. But I played a role all the same. I was there. The flames came out of my hands as much as with any of the others there. I counted the people that died in the fires I started, and I remembered them. 27. Damnit. 27. I'm 12 years old for fuck's sake. I killed my first man, no, kid, when I was 11. Since then, I've killed 33 other people. What the hell is wrong with me. I had to move, or the smell was going to drive me insane. I stood up, backing away from the blazing hole that I had been staring at, as though I was seeing images in the flames. I wasn't. I was only hearing the screams and smelling their delicious burning flesh.

I walked past the aftermath of the battle as wounded were brought past on stretchers, south towards the Crimson Battalion's trucks, readying them for evac. Prisoners were rounded, some executed, for the smallest offenses like standing out of line or not kneeling quick enough. The victors of the battle, us, were still recovering from the rush of adrenaline, the bloodlust still dominating our minds. Many more men would die before the day was over. If any of the prisoners survived until the morning, they would find a calmer foe that would sooner put them to excruciating work than killing them immediately. I wondered with they would prefer. I walked past an Earth kingdom soldier, a nonbender, missing his lower body, crawling through the mud, trying to escape from the Fire Nation, not aware he was half of his former self. My bloodlust had passed, and I didn't do it for the kill, I did it to put him out of his misery and the knowledge he was wasting air. I planted my sword in his back, straight through his chest, ending his suffering far quicker than it would have otherwise. I pulled my blade out, now bloodied once more, and wiped it against my undershirt as I walked trough the battlefield. 35 kills now. I had to remember that number. The day I forgot was the day I was not a man. Not even a soldier. Just a killer. I'm already a killer. The men I killed in that cave were unarmed. Defenseless. They were soldiers, yes, but they were unarmed. They didn't have to die. But I had orders. I did what I had to do.

"Luke!" I heard Lu Ten's voice call from my left. I didn't want to see him now. Not after what he made me do. I turned away and tried to pretend I hadn't heard him until a hand on my shoulder pulled me around to face him directly, blood splattered across his face, a semi-deep cut across his forehead, and more than a fair share of ash on his person. "You okay?" He asked. "You injured?"

"I'm fine. I did it."

"I saw. Good work."

Good work? I didn't want to talk about any more, but I wouldn't let what I had done come across as "Good work."

"They were unarmed." I stated. "Only 2 of them were soldiers and I killed them first. The rest. They were just doing logistics. Running numbers and I burned them. They're still burning for Raava's sake and I can still hear their screaming underneath the ground!"

His eyes softened, but he retained his statement. "You did what you had to do to win the battle and save Fire Nation lives."

"I didn't! They would have surrendered. I could see that. I saw the fear in their eyes when I went down there, just another flamethrower wearing a faceless mask!"

I threw my helmet to the ground, letting it sink into the mud and tried to retreat when Lu Ten grabbed me again, this time not turning me around, but saying "You did do what you had to do. Every man fears death when they stare it in the eyes, but they would have killed you the first chance they got. They would have run for the spears of the men still on ground level before surrendering themselves. And what if they retreated? Through the tunnels. I got the accounts from the other soldiers who went down with you. Those tunnels connect with Ba Sing Se. If you hadn't done what you did, and collapsed those tunnels and eliminated the threat, we wouldn't be talking right now. We would be facing the brunt of the Earth Bender army, and we would have lost. This is war and you were given a choice. A choice between the lives of your comrades, or the lives of the enemy and you made the right choice. We're alive because you did what you had to do down there. I know it wasn't pretty, but this is War and tough choices have to be made."

He let go of my arm and reached down to the Earth to grab my helmet, the white face plate stained with ash, blood, and mud. He didn't bother wiping it off, but handed it to me as it was, scarred and bloody, just like the man wearing it. I hadn't thought about what I did in that way. I was just a soldier, wasn't I? My duty was to defend the lives of my comrades and defeat my enemy. I did that, didn't I? And I did it well, right?

I accepted the helmet from him and looked it in the eyes as though I were looking at my own face. Was there a difference? Does a good soldier have a face, or does he abandon that to become the honed weapon of whomever he fights for?

"Thank you." I said, looking up to Lu Ten, a true soldier if there ever was one. One who could stand to look death in the eye and let death see his face without a shield shrouding his identity. Not me though. I turned the helmet around and put it over my head, limiting my vision only to what was directly ahead of me and nowhere else. I was a soldier.