Luke

It took about 15 minutes to load enough into the Fire Nation patrol skiff to make the first journey with it. They had no idea if they would even find the coast, but it had to be worth it. We could have headed towards our own ship, supplied there, then headed to shore with a better understanding of where we were, but I could see it in Zek's eyes. He wanted to get to shore as quickly as possible.

And so, while he did that, alongside the old man's son to guide him, I'd be staying here, with said old man, ensuring what cargo was left would remain unmolested.

So Zek headed off, and I sat on the deck as the man kept the boat aligned to ensure we wouldn't face the waves to our side.

I didn't mind as much. The sea didn't bother me for some reason. At least not physically. In terms of mentality, I wasn't its biggest fan. Especially right here. Right now, with no land in sight. I'd sooner have opted to go to shore with Zek. But then that'd be 3 aboard the boat. Too much alongside the cargo.

Maybe I'd take over the next trip. Maybe.

"You don't talk much, do you?" the old man asked.

I considered taking the moody approach, not saying anything at all to keep up the act, but truth was, it'd been a while since I talked. Mostly because I had nothing to say, but right now, there were some things I wanted to know. Some things that were concerning me. So instead I said, "nope." And waited for him to continue the conversation as I knew he would.

And so, he did. "Yep. Figured as much. Not as talkative as your buddy."

He was an old man who seemingly only had his son for company the last few days. And from the looks of the kid, not great company it was. This man needed to talk, and more, he needed someone to reply. I'd indulge soon enough, once I got him in a position to spill more information.

"They should be getting back soon," he continued. "Yep. I know my stuff. Land's in that direction for sure. I can feel it in my bones."

"How big is your town?" I asked. Good time to start getting some actual information.

"Oh not too big. 33 people or possibly less given what just happened out here. Most of them my age or women. My son got lucky. Had to hide him away, yes. Make sure he didn't get drafted. He didn't like it, of course, the stubborn boy he is. Wanted to go off and fight the 'Fire Nation Invaders', but I would have none of it. Boy would be dead within weeks."

"War dissuade you too?"

"Oh yeah. I've seen it all. I mean look at me! Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, Earth Kingdom again, Fire Nation, even Water Tribe at one point. All the same stuff. Just people killing each other."

"So who are these pirates that were attacking you? Vets?"

"Maybe. Who knows?"

"They bend?"

"Not that I saw. We high tailed it out of there."

"And how'd you do that in a pile of tinder like this? Doesn't look like you sped your way out. Nor did you leave unscathed. So I'm assuming you bargained your way out, which wouldn't explain why you're worried about them returning, or you played dead, and drifted away while they killed the rest. And once they were away, chasing your buddies down, you made your retreat. And if that's the case, then it explains your anxiety and desire to high tail it out of here. So let me ask. How recently was this attack? Last night?"

The man smiled, then chuckled. "You're sharp, kid. Too sharp. And not last night. This morning. I sent my boy away for a reason."

"How many did you say there were?" I asked, now standing up, tensing. I had the feeling such was the case, but now I knew.

"There were 3 boats like the one you and your friend came in."

And if they were benders, we were standing on a pile of tinder.

And then the hum came. The same hum I was used to hearing but from much closer, inside the source of the noise. Except it wasn't ours.

I flexed my right arm and produced the flame, readying it. I could hear the man audibly scuffle along the floor when he realized. "You're a-"

"Yep. Please make sure we don't catch on fire."

I heard the hum of a second boat, coming from the opposite direction, farther away. So long as it's not at the same time, good. I hid my flame. Better to have the element of surprise, should they try to do things the easy way.

And they did. The Fire Nation defectors turned pirates, still appareled in their ragged uniforms with some unorderly alteration as the first boat stopped parallel to our, lowered the ramp to board with all due haste, and I fired.

The first man went down off the ramp with nary a shout, hitting the water, chest burnt through from what I saw of the first blast. I was now wishing I had brought along my sword, but I'd manage.

The soldier behind the first had recovered from the shock but was fumbling in his attempt to unsheathe his weapon. His mistake. I stepped aboard the ramp, knocked him backwards. Standing on the edge of the ramp, he fell backwards into his own vessel as I followed.

It was at that moment that the driver began driving away in a haste to leave me behind, unaware that I was already aboard.

I kicked the deserter who fell first in the face, knocking him to the ground as he dropped his now unsheathed sword. I picked it up, turning to the driver, driving it into his chest as he attempted to turn, but not quickly enough. He slumped forward as I took the controls, turning the boat to face the second as I sent a stream of flame into the soldier on the ground, roasting him in place.

Maybe I did have some reservations about killing Fire Nation soldiers, but the way I saw this, they weren't soldiers anymore. They were worse. They were just killers without a cause save their own gain.

I turned the skiff around to meet the second which was now perpendicular to the old man's boat. 2 soldiers had already started jumped offboard into the boat, grabbing the man. I didn't have much time. I turned my skiff to ram into the other, sending it barreling backwards as one of the boarding troops fell off into the sea, sinking beneath the waves as his armor weighed him down to the murky depths.

The collision had sent me to the ground, but I was up now, and sent a bolt of fire at the other soldier aboard the remains of the old man's boat, taking him in the shoulder, sending him to the ground, attempting to rise until I sent another at him, striking his neck, sending him down for good. I stepped onto the bow of the metal skiff, ready to check up on the old man until I was made aware of the third soldier's presence, a fire bender, by the blast of fire that shot past my face from the deck of the other skiff I had just rammed into.

I ducked to the front of the bow, crouching low as a second blast shot overhead. Once it was past, I rose to my feet, jumping over the roof of the boat into the rear deck, taking cover in the cockpit area as the 3rd blast struck the side of the boat.

I left cover, firing a return blast as he sought similar cover in his own vessel. I took advantage of our proximity, and took his temporary retreat to close the gap, hopping back onto the bow of my boat and jumping into his.

He left cover, startled by our newfound proximity, but recovered quick, firing a blast. I raised my arms and focused on something I never had before.

I let time slow then, and felt as the temperature around me rose, as I could feel the individual fingers of his flame reach out to take their picks, but I didn't let them. I grabbed them, turned them to my will, and once they were in my possession, I broke them apart. And the flame he sent toward me dissipated into nothingness, vanishing into the thin air.

And from that, he didn't recover. With two hands, I recovered what little I could of his flame, added my own to the mix, and sent it into his stomach. It sheared through his armor, clothing, and skin alike. He fell to the ground, dead on impact, alive and well one second, dead the next.

And it was over. My vision cleared, and the exhaustion took over.

I nearly fell over, only managing to steady myself on the side of the boat, waiting a few moments as my vision went black, came back, went black, and came back one last time. I was still alive. I was still alive.

And I hopped back onto the old man's boat, small flames here and there that I quickly quenched with the motion of a hand, directing their flames elsewhere into the afternoon sky.

And when I found where the man was, lying on the ground, I noticed the blood that splattered the deck around him, the bloodied sword of the deserter I'd killed, and the hole in the man's stomach.

I was alive.

But he hadn't been so lucky.

Zek and the son returned an hour later. There were no tears to be shed. I wasn't surprised. We buried the old man at sea. No final words were said.

We loaded the rest of the food aboard our skiff, making one final trip to the town Zek now knew the guidance to. If the kids weren't silent before, he was now.

We got to the town, but it was a somber greeting, not comparable to last time. I didn't blame them. They'd gained nothing. They'd lost tens of their people and only received a portion of the bounty they'd hoped for, but they showed their thanks all the same.

But before we left, there was one final matter to attend to. So as we left, the boy who had had just lost his father sat on the edge of our skiff and spoke for the first time.

"I have nothing left now. Nowhere to go."

And there was only one answer we could give, and Zek gave it.

"You can come with us."

And so he did.

30 minutes later, we found our ship, right where it had been before, hardly having moved an inch.

We stepped aboard, offloaded the water first, dozens of gallons of it, then soon after, I proceeded to unload the food we had hidden from the villagers. They needed food, but so did we.

And the boy who's name we still didn't know gave us a look that I couldn't interpret as either suspicion or understanding, but there was only one thing to be said, which I did, "We gotta survive too."