Zhao

It was an instinctual reaction. I didn't even have time to consider what I was doing before I dug through my bad, fingers scanning for it, finally pulling out the flare gun, making sure it was loaded, and sending a lit flare above me to the sky ahead. When I looked up to allow my eyes to follow it, searching for that reassurance that my call for help would be seen, I then realized that there was no sky down here. Only above me, was a thick canopy of greenery above me, so dense that the flare was extinguished upon contact before it could even hope to escape to cry for help.

"Damn it!" I cursed to myself, that option now out the window.

"Hello?!" I tried calling out, a sick part of me hoping I hadn't been. That despite my efforts, somebody else had met the same fate as me and been dragged here, just so I wouldn't have been so utterly lost and alone down here. "Anyone?!"

No reply came.

I calmed myself. I'd trained in the past for situations exactly like this. Separated from your teammates, lost in hostile territory, it was a textbook scenario. It wasn't anything I should've been so overwhelmed by. Come on, Zhao. Control yourself. Control your fear. I forced myself to take a breath, letting my eyes come to a close, and not focusing on the world around me. I forced myself, for just a moment, to consider Jeong Jeong's words. To not let the fear, the anger, control me. But I stopped myself then. No. These were the words of a traitor. Of a man who DID become controlled by fear, by anger, and so abandoned everything he once knew. I opened my eyes, still somewhat taken aback by the strange world around me.

He was the last person in the world whose words I'd follow in this moment. I didn't need the words of a traitor. Of a man who abandoned his country. The words that mattered to me most now where the same phrases I'd have beaten into my head day after day in training. The words that prepared me for something exactly like this. Not the words of a man who betrayed all he'd ever know.

"First," I said to myself, trying to recollect the same way that my instructor has put it, in his stereotypical gruff voice, only forcing aside the accent to improve clarity. "Assess your surroundings. Are you in immediate danger?"

I looked around me, seeing that I enclosed by greenery on all sides of me, no access to the open sky, completely shadowed in the mist of the swamp outskirts. I was vulnerable, sure, but in any danger, I couldn't say so. Not for the moment.

"Second," I repeated to myself, slightly more reassured at the fact that I wasn't in any immediate threat. "Grab your bearings. Re-orient yourself, attempting to establish cardinal directions in relation to your position. If possible, begin putting together a map, marking landmarks such as bodies of water." I looked around me now, knowing that I had one of the easiest landmarks available-the mountain to my back. I turned, and through some thin layers of trees, I could see where the earth turned up, slowly becoming the incline of the mountain to my back that, somehow, I'd survived the descent down. So that was west. I prayed I still had my map on me, and luckily, such was the case. We'd marked the area believed to encompass the entirety of the swamp, along with where we expected the world/"mother" tree to be located, at the epicenter of the swamp. We ascended these mountains, so assuming that the landslide took me straight down, I should be right here, I thought to myself, placing my finger right by the base of the mountain's representation on the map, then the world tree should be due northeast. Good. I knew where I was, on the outskirts of the swamp at the moment. And, when am I? I assumed morning judging by the light, but not knowing where the sun was, it was impossible to know for sure. All the same, I had daylight. That's what mattered at the moment.

Then came the tricky part. "Third," I nearly sighed to myself, remembering what it entailed. "Re-establish contact with your unit." I remembered the flare, and the pathetic yell I'd let out, praying for a response that never came. Then came the next bit, the part that mattered, "If contact cannot be re-established, proceed to a preset rendezvous point, and await your team there. If your unit fails to appear, refer to orders of mission vitality and crew expendability." We had agreed on what the rendezvous was. And it was in the exact center of the swamp. So that's where I was headed, and if no others had survived, I would finish my mission. I knew what had to, and by the spirits, whether they liked it or not, I was going to do it. I shrugged my pack back onto my shoulders, keeping the map in hand, readjusting my armor, and I found northeast, and so, stepping into the shadow of the swamp, beyond the outskirts I found myself in, resuming the mission that meant my future.

It was interesting to note that, as I headed further away from the outskirts of the swamp, smaller trees, clearings, general woodlands, slowly devolved further and further into the dark abyss that was the swamp. Somehow, the trees became taller, taller than they already were, denser. The air around me was no longer as crisp as it had been moments ago. The grass beneath my feet slowly devolved into a sludge, soon, the grass itself disappearing in favor of a shallow puddle that had no end in sight. How much deeper will it get? I wondered to myself, not doubting that a swamp of this magnitude likely got as deep as the Nip did in certain points.

It wasn't long before night came. I guess I woke up far later in the day than I had expected. I wondered where the others were at this point. Much more, I wondered how many of us were even less. Last I'd seen of the camp, we were in total disarray, absolutely no idea we were doing, all of us on the verge of being blown off of the cliffside. Despite the regard they'd held me in, I couldn't help but hope that they'd survived through that all. They may not have respected me, and I could easily say the same for them, but they were Fire Nation, my countrymen.

It kept on making my way through the swamp until I found what seemed to be a good place to set up camp for the moment, some higher ground that appeared dry, at least relative to everything else around me. I'd realized that I hadn't actually checked my supplies since I'd gone down the mountain and decided that now seemed a good time to do so. Naturally, I'd lost my tent and sleeping bag. It was a miracle I'd even managed to grab my bag when I did. I opened it up, removing the contents one by one. It was the flare gun I found first, having used it most recently. It was fine at the very least. Still in working order. Next was the compass. Broken. Figures. I set it aside. I then searched for the actual supplies I'd need-food and water. Within my bag, I found, no. I counted in my head again. No this couldn't be right. I only had 3 MREs on me, and 2 days' worth of water. Where the hell did the rest go? I thought to myself, looking through the bag until some light shone through. I flipped the bag over, the content already distributed on the floor, and found the gaping wound in my bag, out of which my essential supplies had departed. "Damn it," I muttered under my breath. "Fine." I'd done this before, knew how to ration. I wouldn't be eating tonight, and I only had leave to drink 2 caps worth of water today. I poured 2 caps of the day's flask for myself, drinking them, savoring them as much as I could. If it came to it, I'd boil swamp water, but something about the concept wasn't desirable.

I looked around me, taking the time to consider the viability of where I was now choosing to spend the night. It seemed safe enough, enclosed within dense walls of wood and vines, but one never knew where peering eyes lied. I had nobody to watch me as I slept, but I had to sleep. I wouldn't be able to function otherwise. The wood around me was too wet to start a fire. I could start one on my own, keep it by me long enough for me to fall asleep, but it'd likely burn out within the first hour, but I supposed whatever safety it could offer was worth something.

I made the decision to collect some wood, grabbing the serrated knife that somehow was still within its sheath on my belt, despite everything that had transpired over the last 24 hours. It didn't take long for the notion of gathering wood to become something far different than from what I'd imagined it would. At the mere touch of my hand on the lowest branch, it felt as though the world around me shook, as though Earth herself had understood my intention to deliver pain. The trees shook, water rippled behind me, wind blew between the trees, throwing the vines in my direction like arms desperately begging for me to stop, but my needs surpassed those of the swamp in this moment, so I made the cut, and the Earth screamed.

I'd be lying if I said my heart hadn't jumped, but the illusions of this sludge hole around me wouldn't be enough for me to surrender myself. Yet I'd be lying if I didn't cut faster, grabbing for the nearest branches by the handful, speeding up the rate at which I sawed through them, begging that the cries of the earth would cease, and finally, I'd collected the last of which I desired for myself, immediately stepping back away from the forest wall as the screams continued, dropping the branches near my camp site to allow my hands to retreat to my ears to protect myself from the hellish howl. In time, however, the cries of the swamp silenced, the arms of the vines went limp, the water calmed, and the earth stood still, the quietest it had been since I woke here. Not a tree shook, not an insect buzzed, not a cricket chirped, and somehow, I found myself put at more unease by the silence than by the screeches of the world.

I stood still, my heart in my throat, my right-hand tensing, almost expecting the entire planet to turn on me in that moment, readying myself to make a fool's errand of a final stand in that moment. Soon enough, however, a cricket chirped, a leaf rustled, a fly buzzed, and slowly but surely, life returned to the graveyard, yet it took me longer to return to the state I'd found myself in before, at any sense of ease, a serenity I was beginning to become sure would evade me so long as I stood within the bounds of this swamp. All the more reason to stick to the mission and get this done. So I can get out of here all the sooner.

The fire started, and I could already see that it wouldn't last, but I took the time to revel in the life it provided, just for the moment. It was hard to fall asleep that night. In all honesty, a good part of me was frightened, but that was the swamp's strength, wasn't it? It wasn't trees, vines, water that killed anybody, no. It was the fear. The terror. And I was stronger than that. Strong enough to know fact from fiction. And I would not be defeated by fear of all things. And so I slept, using my pack as a pillow, lying on solid ground, at the very least warm in thanks to my being chosen by the world to be a bender, a firebender at that. I had no excuses.

When my eyes opened, it was as thought nothing had changed at all. I would have thought I'd only been asleep for a manner of seconds if the fire to my side hadn't already been rendered a useless pile of wood, burned over once, the fires extinguished by the seemingly never ending rain in this place. I must have only been out for a couple of hours. Three at most. The light hasn't changed at all. It's still night. Yet when I tried to fall asleep again, I felt no urge to do so. Come on, Zhao. Sleep, damnit. After 15 minutes, however, then 30, then 45, perhaps even an hour of lying there, it was clear to me that I would be getting no more sleep, that I'd lost an hour of my day, and one last thing, "I have no idea what time it is," I revealed to myself as I lay on my back, lucking at the steel thick canopy of vines, tree, and leaves above me, concealing any and all light from reaching the swamp floor. It could be midnight, noon, anything for all I knew.

It was then that I decided to pack up camp, what little it was. I drank two more caps of water and decided that I would eat half of one MRE tonight. I was looking forward to it. I was just rising when I heard the voice behind me, "You a defector?"

"What?" I asked, like an idiot, not fully hearing what he said the first time, but lucky for me, the man was nervous. I could hear it in his voice. If worst came to worst, I knew I would be fine, but I wanted to get a sense for how he looked, if I could take him in a fight, but then another voice came out and said, "Don't turn around, hands on the back of your head where we can see them."

Damnit. This one was older, smarter. "We'll ask again. You a defector?"

There was one obvious answer. "Yes."

But of course, he didn't believe me. The young one would have, but not him. "Where does the moon rise?"

My eyes went to my pack on the ground. If I had to run,…no. I wasn't running. I could take them. I dropped down to a knee, pivoting on it, turning my waist to face them, and shot a burst of fire, but it was stopped in its tracks by a spout of water rising from the swampy floor, absorbing and dissipating the blast of fire, catching him off guard at the very least, giving me time to now face in fighting posture, but not time it was. The second assailant, another waterbender who, from what now appeared to be a small river behind him, that wasn't there before, bent a whip of water, directing it straight towards me. I rolled out of the way, now using my hands to support my weight on the ground to send an arching kick of fire towards him, creating a diagonal arc of fire that would be sure to hit him until, all of a sudden, he became enclosed in a wall of vines, bent from the overhanging trees absorbing the blast.

I turned, now witnessing a third assailant, a man donning hardly any clothing whatsoever save for a leafy undergarment. The tribal, in a second motion, redirecting the vines towards me, sending them crashing to the ground like missiles. I managed to evade the first two, the third striking down, catching me in the shoulder, forcing me to the ground. Viewing me as incapacitated, the vines joined together, ready for one final blow, and as I watched them steam towards me, I managed to let the anger overcome the pain in my right shoulder, and I shot a blast of fire directly to the epicenter of the vine cluster, the ball of flame breaching through, blowing apart the vines from the inside, sending water and charred bits of organic matter all around us, but the fight wasn't near over.

The first waterbender, the older, more experienced one, sent a series of ice spikes, rising from the water towards me, ready to impale me where I still lay on the ground. Launching off the ground with my hands, I leapt to the side, sending an additional sweeping kick of fire towards the ice, melting it before the waterbender could change its course back towards me. Upon landing, I directed and additional blast of fire at the less experienced waterbender, believing him to be the easily target, but unfortunately for me, the swampbender had his back once again, and my aim was rendered useless by a ball of mud that encompassed my hand, dissipating the flame in my hand before it could become ready to fire, giving the lesser waterbender time to freeze the water around my feet where I was standing, but still possessing one free arm, my left, albeit it less practiced, I was able to break his concentration, giving me leave to relocate and now shift my attention to shards of ice headed in my general direction compliments of the waterbender vet.

I ducked beneath the first shard, hearing as it clattered against the tree behind me, now allowing me to realize I had been losing ground, retreating. They'd already stepped onto the ground where I'd bee sleeping only minutes ago. No. I had to regain ground. I dodged the next shard to the right, taking a step towards him. I punched the next shard with a blast of fire out of the air, finding the delay between his attacks, using the time to create a wave of fire between his projectile offenses, melting them just as he sent them towards me, lacking sufficient time to build up a proper defense, the blast of fire sending him to the ground. I went for the killing blow, a flip followed by a vertical spiral of fire meant to cut the man in half, but the younger waterbender managed to sever the attack, but it didn't matter. I had secured the offense. I sent a blast of fire towards the younger bender, once again, having it being blocked by the tribal, distracting them both, giving me time to pivot back towards the veteran who was now attempting to rise on his hands and knees, but one upwards kick, sending an arc of fire directly into his stomach, was enough to sever right through half of his torso, killing the man, spilling his charred guts onto the ground.

The brutality of the onslaught was enough to temporarily distract the two other belligerents, the younger of which seemed so terrified that he actually nearly tripped over himself back into the water. I knew how to seize the opportunity when I could. I feigned a first blast directly at the swampbender, switching up my order. When the tribal moved to defend himself, I sent my real attack, a well concentrated bolt of fire directly into the heart of the newbie, striking directly into his chest, dropping him to the ground, dead.

It was at this point that the tribal realized his odds has significantly worsened, and so he, before I could think to stop him, still reveling off of my two most recent kills, put his hands to his mouth, and whistled out a tone of one long high note, and two short low ones. I attempted to send a sweeping kick of fire at his neck, but he had been quicker than I was, bending himself a sinkhole into the mud, disappearing from sight. "Damnit!" I cursed, but I was thankful to have been alive, and still high on the adrenaline of my victory. I moved over to the body of the first man I'd kill, hoping I could find something of some value. He was better equipped than the swampbender had been, wearing what appeared to be some modified Southern Water Tribe armor. It had been painted green, the fur abandoned, and, interestingly enough, the hide, normally taken from seals or other native wildlife, replaced with scales, seemingly those of a catgator. Was the South branching out? Trying to incorporate the swamp tribes? Or was this the work of the North even? Seemed more their style. Or perhaps just outcasts, trying to launch a guerilla war from the swamp. A smart place to do so. I went through the soldier's knapsack, thankful it had been him I'd killed rather than the swampbender. Wouldn't find much in that man's pockets, unless…I pushed the thought aside, now finding a small whistle in the knapsack, a bone dagger, a small child's toy, all useless. I kept the whistle, however. Might need to distract any reinforcements.

I began wondering what the tribal had been doing here. As far as we knew, the Foggy Swamp Tribe was neutral in this war, but I supposed that the kinship of waterbending went deep, which was nothing good. Having enemies in an environment like this, it was an endless guerilla war in the making. I was also moved to wonder where the hell the stream had come from. The only thing I could assume was that the swampbenders moved the fines around them when travelling, shrouding their movements by bending the vines back in place, hiding their tracks. It's smart, but hop-I heard something movie, the splashing of water towards the open waterway. Damn it. They were following the whistle. And as though the horrors of last night had returned, the Earth howled, and I saw as the vines made way, the trees seemingly bending so as to create a new waterway, a heavy fog in its place, the wind blowing through this tunnel in a haunting howl. Then, I saw them, 3 boats, piloted by 3 swampbenders moving the water around the boats so as to propel themselves forward, but aboard each of these boats, two more armored warriors. I wasn't going to beat them. Not alone. I had to run. I sent a blast of fire towards them, hoping to draw their attention away from my retreat, and I sprinted in the opposite direction, not even knowing where I was going-north, south, east west-it didn't matter. I grabbed my pack where it lay on the ground, could hear the flow of water behind me as their readied their assaults. I heard a variety of splashes, snaps, and the shattering of ice behind me, crashing where I stood only moments before diving into the mist of the swamp.

I sprinted through the swamp, trying not to allow my feet to become stuck in the mood, trying as hard as I could to stay light on my feet, weaving between the trees, hearing them behind me, bending the trees around them, moving faster than I could ever hope to do as though they were gliding on the water itself. And for all I knew, they were. I changed directions, attempting to run perpendicular to the route they were approaching me on, but it would do no good, they were hot on my tail. I saw the vines move in front of me so as to block my advance. I barely had enough time to react, to burn through the vines in front of me, pushing through the cinders that clearly gave away where I had been. Damn it. I stupidly threw a blast of fire behind me at my feet, hoping to create a flame big enough to delay their advance, but the flames dissipated upon touching the water of the swamp floor. It was going to accomplish nothing.

I heard their voices, calling, yelling. "What in Raava's name do you think you were doing?" I didn't take a moment to consider why they were asking what they did. I only kept on running, and running. I now started a small flame on a tree trunk next to me as I changed directions, hoping that the smoke would shroud my path change for at least a small moment. But they were still right behind me. I could hear the voices. "Don't speak out of line, Lieutenant!" What? I kept on running. This was some kind of trick. They were trying to pretend to be a superior. To get me to stop. No. I didn't stop running. "You can't have the freedom to assume command and not be found accountable for your actions. Can't have it both ways, lieutenant." General Shu? "I swear to you. I wouldn't betray my nation. I'm sorry, just please. Don't kill me!" That was the voice of Zain. I could see him. Right in front of me, for the firing squad, and the blasts of fire shooting through his body, executing him on the spot. And I felt the whip at my back, not cutting through the army, but completely tearing my bag in half. Damn it. I didn't have time to turn around. I made another turn, a shard of ice crashing against a tree that I'd stood in front of not half a second ago. And I was running on the hull of a ship, the steel clanging beneath my feet. None of it made no sense, but I kept on running, down the deck, but I was approaching the edge. I couldn't turn around, and the sea was approaching. I had to jump.

The water surrounded me, and I found myself sinking to the bottom, the blue sea working its way into the nooks of my armor, grasping at me, pulling me down, drowning me. I slipped off my bag, letting it fall to the ocean floor, but I was still being dragged down. Dragged, drowned, murdered by my earthly tethers. I slid off my leg plates, my arm plates, my chest piece, cutting through the straps, letting them fall, finally allowing myself to rise, to reach the water's surface, to breath, to take in new life.

The shore was in front of me. I could see it through squinted eyes, and I reached my hands forward, scrambling for dear life, and I felt the sand in my fingers, warm, hot, life, and I pulled myself up, crawling out of the water, through the desert. The water was a distant memory within a manner of seconds, disappeared, myself dry, the heat bearing down on me. It gave me strength, and so I rose, planting my knees in the burning sand, using that leverage to allow me to rise to my feet. The desert, an ocean in itself, spanned endlessly around me, rolling hills of sand coming to no end. Where the hell am I? What the hell is happening? I looked around me. There was nobody else. I was alone. But I had to move on. No matter how little things made sense, there was that single, driving voice, that told me to push on. And so I did, choosing a direction, and marching forth.

Where the hell was I? How did I get here? These questions faded, replaced by a single desire to walk. Where? It was impossible to know. The wind was rising once more. The sand no longer remained bound to the shape of the Earth, but it rose, flew, travelled, blowing against me, yet I refused to go with the wind, to alter directions. I stood my ground, and further travelled forward, no matter how much the world tried to tell me otherwise, but the wind and the sand had no end, beating at me, tearing into my skin, I fell to my knees, but refused to surrender, rising to my feet once again, putting increasing intent into each and every step I took.

It was hours until the sandstorm subsided, and the relief I felt in that moment, to allow myself then to fall to my knees, to close my eyes for but a moment. Then I heard footsteps, the shuffling of sand, and it was when I opened my eyes that I saw them, the tracks in the sand, smaller than those of a man. My eyes glazed over them, lazily tracking where they led, until I saw the small fox, walking along the sand, not a concern in the world. I was speechless, just watching it, my eyes fixated on it, wondering what it was, where it led. It turned to me then, a sealed scroll in its jaws. It made no noise, but merely stared at me, a blank gaze, then it turned away from me, and ran, continuing on its journey. My eyes followed it, and where it led, and having appeared out of nowhere, a grand structure appeared, carved of white marble, sporting numerous spires, domes, with one final spired dome towering above all else, piercing into the sky. The building was larger than life itself, easily overpowering the likes of the Fire Nation's Royal Palace.

It stood as a beacon of light in the endless wastes, the sun reflecting off of its perfectly polished surface, a beacon, calling me, beckoning me to come closer. As a moth chases light, I approached that great temple, following the fox where it ran, and saw as the grand doors opened for him. I wondered if they would do the same for me, but when I did finally reach the grand structures, its doors, as though welcoming its master, opened ever so slowly, welcoming me within. And it was when I entered the structure that I learned it not to be a temple, but in judging by the scrolls, manifestos, chronicles, and manuscripts lining the walls, I discerned it to rather be a great library. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of documents must have existed within this structure, if not numbering in the millions, the collections of all human knowledge. It would have been such an easy task to become lost within the building, but I knew where to go, and my steps guided me accordingly, through one hall, up one flight to the next. I knew where I was heading, and as I set down one final corridor, I walked, further, and further, and further into the light.

The eyes of the Fire Lords tracked my movements throughout the hall as I approached the throne room of the Fire Lord's palace. The doors in front of me opened, and the brilliant light of red, orange, and yellow greeted me, the silhouette of Azulon, no, our new lord, Ozai, sitting behind those flames, seated in place, the eternal figure of power that he was. My knees bent to the ground, and I tucked my head in fealty to the Fire Lord, to the Fire Nation, to everything that I fought for, for when I stood once more, it was not to kneel, but in front of endless legions of soldiers, and the next, at the helm of a grand fleet, all I had strived for, and in the sky, a red glow, the glow of victory, and the next, nothing, but mere darkness. There was no way of knowing how, but I knew that, in that moment, the darkness had meant victory, and so I stood, victor, conqueror, hero. But beneath, beneath the fleet, a lone white fish swam in the endless sea, and it faced me in that moment, and its eyes shone, and the sea glowed blue, and it came. My heart stood still, the world disappeared before my eyes, and they opened, and the vines lunged at me once more.

There had hardly been any time to react. I dived out of the way, a crash of water and earth behind me, but I was focused, back in the present, a new sense of purpose within me, and I kicked at the arm of vines, severing them with a slice of fire, disabling what now appeared to be a massive humanoid figure composed of vines, donning a mask for a face, its eyes stared directly at me as, from the depths of the swamp floor, it regenerated its arms, the vines slithering back into place like a colony of beesnakes, and it short its arms towards me once more. I stood my ground, determined, resolute, shooting a blast of fire directly between the vines of the arms, blowing it apart from the inside, but I resumed my onslaught, firing multiple rejuvenated blasts at the monster's torso, striking holes through the beast that seemed to recover as fast as I could inflict the damages. The frustration had distracted me from the trap of vines it had conjured up from the ground, hurtling me into a nearby by tree, wrapping around me. I attempted to free myself, breathing out an enraged breath of fire before the vines surrounded my face as well. No. Not when I was so close. Yet, the next moment, I fell to the ground, falling to my hands and knees, looking up to observe the fresh hole burnt into the side of the beast as it stood there, arm missing, just as confused as I had been, then another blast came, then another, and 2, no, 4, no, 8, no, 17 Fire Nation soldiers emerged from between the trees, some bending fire, some throwing spears, but all now involved in this fight, distracting the beasts attention, tearing it apart piece by piece. They were alive. Almost all of them were alive. I was actually elated to see them all in that moment, but the joy would have to wait. The creature turned, revealing the extent of damage it had sustained to its rear, and I could almost see, between the vines, the outline of, a man? I coordinated my next blast to perfectly cut through the weak point in the monstrosity's back, and hopefully through the man itself, and I threw my next kick, a perfect diagonal arc, and it hit directly where I intended, and the creatures back completely destroyed, matched with the blasts of the firebenders to its front, the creature collapsed in on itself, and a man knelt where the beast had stood just moments ago.

I rejoined my squad just as they had surrounded the man, Harzek, first raised to deliver a blow of fire directly into the old man's head, shouted, "Why did you attack us? We did nothing to provoke us."

"My-" he coughed. "I protect this swamp from folks who like to hurt it, like all of you."

"It wasn't our intention to damage this swamp!" Harzek shouted. "It was you who sent your people to attack us, to kill us."

"My-. No, not my people. I do not interfere with those who call this swamp their home, so long as they do not threaten its existence as you have in your short stay here."

"The Fire Nation has avoided this swamp, allowed you dirty savages to live in peace, and this is how you repay us? By getting involved in this war?"

"Some in this swamp have chosen war, others haven't, much like myself. My only allegiance in this world is to this swamp, and to oppose those who threatened its existence."

"You two," Harzek called to two of his nearby men, one of which was the man I had saved, Zaik, unscathed save some dried blood on his face. "Guard the prisoner." The two moved forward, and Zaik's eyes caught mine as he seemed surprised in the moment to see I was alive, but promptly nodded. A nod that I returned.

Harzek approached me then, saying, "So. Still alive, I see. That's good news, I suppose. Zaik told me what you did. Why you did it? I have no idea, but it doesn't matter to me. Thank you, but I'm afraid that your mission is on standby. This swamp is housing a partisan cell of Waterbenders we've been tracking for a while now. They're assisting the Earth Kingdom and the Separatists in the Nip Sea region, and we must return to the fleet immediately to inform them of this change in development now that we know where they're located. I'm sure you understand." He turned to leave.

I understood, but what Harzek's sense of duty to his nation failed to account for was the years of endless guerilla fighting that would ensue. That, and something else. "Sir, I disagree."

"And?" he asked, turning to face me. "Why's that?"

"Because I believe I have a lead on our real mission."

Harzek paused. "You what?"

"I believe I have a lead on how to defeat the spirits, but I need to ask the prisoner a question."

"Fine, do what you will. You have 5 minutes, but remember. He's my prisoner."

"Thank you, sir."

I stepped towards the prisoner as Harzek rejoined his men, shouting orders, organizing them, and I knelt down to face the man, nodding at Zaik and the other man to leave for the moment, and so they did, leaving me alone with the, despite his aged appearance, gray hair, short beard, and chubby stature, formidable swampbender. And I figured that, this time, it would be best to make an ally than an enemy.

"I'm sorry for the damage I inflicted upon your swamp. My squad and I had no intention of arriving here in such a manner, but unforeseen circumstances made conditions more dire for us. I assure you, however, that it is not our intention to harm your swamp."

"But you seek to bring war to it, to root at those you consider your enemies."

"No. On the contrary. We have come seeking knowledge, and I believe I have received that knowledge. I saw things, as I moved throughout the swamp. Images. I was put in new places, an ocean, a desert, a library. I wish to know what it all means."

"I will tell you," he said, "But you must give me you assurance that you will not attack this swamp. I do not fear of losing it, but I fear of the blood that will be shed here, more of them your Firebenders than waterbenders. The blood spilt will serve none, and only harm the purity of this swamp."

I was ready to say all that I had to in order to accomplish my mission. "I promise," I said, "That I will not attack this swamp."

He nodded. "Very well. This swamp," he said, "despite what you may believe, is all one big tree, spanning for miles and miles, connecting everything, including the entire world. This swamp can show people images of the world, of all transpiring within it."

"But I saw, heard, experienced images of the past, events that had already occurred, and events I didn't recognize."

"Time is but an illusion. The will of the universe does not believe in the linear nature that man has set for time."

"So, I saw the future then?"

"You would know better than I would."

I nodded. "Thank you." I rose, turning to Harzek, saying, "He's free to go."

"What?!" He nearly shouted.

"He was entirely cooperative with us. Told us everything we needed to know. We know where to go now."

"Fuck it. Fine." He turned to the swampbender. "You can go.", then muttering, "Fuck this place," under his breath.

I turned back to the mysterious swampbender then and added, "Oh by the way. What you mentioned about bringing the war to the swamp, it was the Water Tribe soldiers who brought it here, not us."

"Then they, much like yourselves, have outstayed your welcome. Now please, leave my swamp."

I nodded, and turned to join the rest of the soldiers who were now in march, towards the Southwest judging by the sun in the sky that we could now see, beautifully lighting the center of the swamp. I joined in step next to Harzek, who asked, "What happened to your pack and armor?"

"I lost it while I was being pursued by waterbenders."

Harzek nodded to the nearest two soldiers, both of whom handed me 2 ration packs and a day's worth of water. I nodded to them in thanks, holding on to them, nowhere in particular to store it, just thankful I had them on me.

"Now," Harzek continued. "Want to tell me what the fuck that all was about?"

"I gained a lead. I know where we're headed now."

"Oh yeah?" he almost chuckled, clearly amused at the notion that our spirit hunt could actually be leading somewhere, and I couldn't blame him. I could hardly believe it myself. But it was the truth, and finally, I knew what to do, so when he asked, "And where's that?", I knew how to respond.

"The Si Wong Desert"