Luke

There was no way of telling what time it was when I awoke. It was late. I knew that much. Funny thing, I was finally comfortable, yet now was when I was having trouble catching sleep. The world was dark around me, I imagine somewhere in the early AMs. I was in an actual bed, in a slightly furnished room, lights out, the moon shining in. Yet I couldn't sleep.

I had grown accustomed to that of late. A lack of sleep, that is. It had been keeping up with me, for what? The last 2, 3 months now? How long since Ba Sing Se? I could hardly remember anymore. Long ago. That was the only answer that held any truth in it. Long, long ago.

I had slept better back then. Be it on the hard earth ground, feeling vibrations of distant battles rock through the earth. Be it the cool hard steel of a tank, its vibrations knocking my head against a resting spot every 5 seconds. Or be it the soft, cold, wet mud of our trenches after we had passed the outer wall. The way it sought to soak into my uniform, giving it markings I knew I'd never lose. Those stains came out easily enough though. It was blood that came out less well.

I looked over to where my uniform was hanging in the closet. We had found some clothes hangers in the Raider Outpost. We divvied them up appropriately. Hell. I was just happy to have a room. I shared a floor with Danev, no, Boss and Zek. Why Danev? He's dead, Luke.

I shook my head, pushing out the misinformation, rubbing the sweat from my brow. My hair was wet too, not aided by the fact it had been months since I cut it. Short hair is dangerous. I heard that in Citadel once. Maybe it was just as a joke, since right afterwards a few fellow street urchins had shaved me near bald, saying the look "suited me."

I wasn't sure whether to smile or cringe at the sudden memory. On one hand, all those I had known had been alive back then. I may not have known them, but all the same, they were alive. One the other hand though, I was trapped in there, destined to die there, the causes getting worse as I got older. The older you got, the more you got experienced to, the more there was to kill you. That's how life worked.

I looked at the ceiling now, noting the ways the iron plating screwed into each other. It was a sturdy ship. I knew that much. Who would be awake right now? Maybe Gordez. He didn't sleep up here with us anyway. He preferred to keep his quarters down in the engine bay. Boss offered otherwise, but he declined. Felt that he belonged there. Memories of his old experiences in the Navy, no doubt. He was an engineer. That's where he belonged. Or, that's how he saw it at least.

I turned back onto my side, facing to the right, the empty wall that I shared with Zek. He slept in the room to my right, Boss even further right, in the captain's quarters. Well deserved. I wasn't complaining. I had what I wanted. An actual double bed. I would have settled for a bed. Hell, a pile of straw. This, this was the best thing I've slept in for years. How long since Citadel? Since the academy? A year yet? I wasn't sure. I think I was around 12 when I left. How old am I now? Still 12? I could've sworn I always told myself I got older around late winter or early spring. March? April?

I shook my head. It was unimportant. I closed my eyes, but, obviously, no sleep came. The same results were faced with my left side. Damnit.

I opened my eyes and spotted the dagger lying on my desk. Hadn't had the chance to really use the desk yet. Just got it in that raid, which, while a few weeks ago, was still rather recent. We were at sea now, drifting, letting the current take us. Where, we weren't sure, but we had Gordez and Boss doing course corrections, so I wasn't worried about it.

I leaned over, the blanket shifting over me, and reached for the dagger on the desk, grabbing it by its hilt, and sinking back into the bed, propping myself up slightly into a mid-sit, mid-lie position.

I held the knife in my right hand, producing a small light of a flame in my left. The room suddenly came alive as the spirals of the flame twisted and turned, letting its light glimmer off of the blade. It was one hell of a knife. Emphasis on was. It had gone through hell. I expected no less from a knife that had travelled with Danev for so long.

The leather that bound the hilt had been nigh completely singed off, revealing the woodwork underneath that would need replacing sooner or later. Not a simple task, but one I'd do in time. I thumbed the hilt, flipping the blade over, revealing where there had used to be an inscription. I had no way of knowing what it read. The wear and tear of its adventures had disguised that unique aspect of it. All you could tell from looking at it was that it had once said nothing. Now though, it was just a reminder of the past.

The blade itself was in good condition. I flipped it over, reviewing my handiwork. I sharpened it every day, and all the better for it. I thumbed the side, sliding it across ever so slightly, pulling back a finer newly bloodied. Good. The sting came a few seconds later, and I set the blade down back onto the desk before clenching my fists over the thumb, stopping the flow of blood.

It would stop in a minute or two.

I sighed out, the flame in my left hand slowly dying. I paid it small mind, letting it grow once more into a sizeable reading light. There was nothing to read, however, so I looked into the flames, watching as hands would reach out, grab the air, and pull it back inside, feeding its heart and soul. It was something to watch.

I remembered back to what Jeong Jeong had told me. He was right. Fire was unlike the other elements. Air travelled, water flowed, earth stood its ground, but fire. Fire was alive. Fire was born, fire died, fire inhaled, it exhaled. The Fire Nation sought to control fire, but that was there mistake. You could never control fire just as you could never control a wild beast. It had a mind of its own. You can only learn to not fear fire. And once you do, it's no longer the threat that it is. To you at least.

I've seen enough of what fire does to those who are its victims. Much of it by my hands. Did I envy them? No. Did I pity them? Yes. Did I regret what I'd done? No, save the one event. The rest, I'd done because I had to. It was a war. I was still in that war. I would continue to fight and use the resources at my disposal.

My train of thought was broken, and I let the fire dissipate as I felt the liquid beneath my head. Raising my hand up to my brow, I felt the sweat once more. Many people would call them dreams, nightmares, but they weren't. They were just memories. Maybe for some that would be a comfort. Dreams of a lost love, a happy moment, but I just saw those I'd kill. Faces I thought I'd forgotten. Insignificant soldiers I'd faced in the field. I saw their faces again now and remembered them. People I had even forgotten I'd killed.

I sighed. I wasn't sleeping tonight. I knew that much now.

I raised the blanket over me, moving into a sitting position, feet dangling off the bed. I shifted forward and winced as they touched the cold steel of the floor, the shock passing through my body to my shoulders which soon shuck in tandem.

It was fine though. I always had preferred the cold, for one reason or another.

I stood up, my nightclothes consisting of looted clothing from the raiders we had killed. We had washed them with whatever we could find, soaked them, dried them, but there was still that feeling there. I guess it was just the knowledge that these belonged to a dead man. A man I'd killed.

I shrugged it off, twisting the wheel to my room, unlocking it, dislodging it, and soon enough, opening it. It was 2-inch-thick steel. A strong door for a strong ship.

I'd expected worse when we set out to sea. Much worse. I'd never been at sea before, but for some reason, it felt familiar. Un-foreign. I had no sickness, no issues acclimatizing. I've already come to rely on the steady flow of the waves beneath me as I slept. It was my new life. And so far, I had no arguments.

I exited into the hallway, softly closing the door behind me, checking the hall to see the other doors were closed. I guess it was Gordez that would be awake at this time. Maybe I'd run into him.

I didn't it.

I climbed the ladder to the bridge, Gordez near the front, on the bridge platform, overlooking the sea. Couldn't blame him. I was up for a similar enough reason. I left the bridge through the back door, stepping onto the platform that encompassed the bridge. I came out immediately facing the forward smoke funnel. We were producing a reasonable amount at the moment. The older models were more energy efficient, the kind we were using now. The newer ships focused on sheer strength, but from what I've overheard, these were the real deal.

So I sat on the bridge deck, overlooking the sea as it escaped behind us, no land in sight, just the deep black sea as the cold wind passed overhead, and a slight snow fell around me. But finally, I managed to fall asleep.