Fire Nation Junior Lieutenant Zhao

Only half of us went into the desert. The other half would stay behind with the Hami on the basis that, with many of their own fighters leading to guide us, the village would need protection in the meantime. They had seen our train of thought. Perhaps too well. I had the feeling that both of us were very aware of what was really going on. Insurance. In case the half of us that went into the desert didn't make it back. Fire Nation armor, weapons, and supplies were valuable, especially if sold to the right buyers. Needed to discourage any funny business some way or another, and sadly, words alone would not be enough to assure good will. "Deals in the desert" after all, I mused.

2 sand skiffs had departed, 4 Fire Nation soldiers on each, accompanied by 6 sandbenders, each vehicle holding 10, though not comfortably. While Shilo, the Hami in charge, had taken it upon himself as his duty to help us in our mission, he was no idiot. He didn't want to commit any more resources to this than he had to. Almost reminded me of Harzek in that way, though I had the feeling that Shilo's precaution came from something rather than cynicism.

Even from where I was sitting, clinging on to the side of the sailer for dear life as we spend across an endless sea of fluctuating sand dunes, I was able to notice the tension apparent in our driver's body, the way that the sandbenders would double take before each added burst of energy they added to their whirlwinds of sand, pushing the sailer along.

Shilo was in front of both me and Harzek, and his apprehension was no less visible than it was for the others.

"Expecting company?!" I yelled over the wind, or at least, tried to.

Somehow or other, he managed to hear me though, not turning from where he was, simply saying over his shoulder, "Humans aren't the only things one has to look out for in the desert. Cruel conditions breed cruel survivors."

"What do you mean?!"

"Let's hope we don't find out!"

Harzek was seated behind me on the skiff. It seemed as though the nervousness was contagious by the way his head was darting around, though not scanning the horizon as the tribals were, rather, looking between the tribals themselves. After losing 3 men the way he did just yesterday, it was no small wonder he was on guard.

The Hami had proven themselves to be the accommodating hosts. They'd sheltered and housed our men at Shilo's request, some even expressing a degree of gratitude in our assistance battling the Maojiawa. They'd dressed the wounds of our injured and wrapped the bodies of our fallen. The surviving merchants were paid for what merchandise had survived the conflict and had been hastily returned to Misty Palms, leaving only me, Harzek, and our men as the sole outsiders in their village. Yet despite that, there had been no ill will shone to us. It wasn't too surprising all things considered. The desert was one of the few places that the war hadn't touched. If anything, the war had made the desert that much more valuable for smuggling goods across the continent for people who'd naturally rather avoid Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation by going through the desert rather than around.

Notwithstanding, if there was one thing I could rely on Harzek for, it was consistency. His priority throughout everything had been the survival of his men. For that, despite the pain and grief it had caused me, I could respect him.

The ride carried on, and the hours drew on at a snail's pace. Or maybe it had only been minutes. I wasn't the only one growing impatient. I was sharing the sailer with, in addition to Harzek, Krezk and Zaik. I had no doubt that, after last time, Zaik had already experienced his fill of the desert. He didn't give off the impression hating the inhabitants themselves, but the overall environment on the other hand. Needless to say, his discomfort was apparent, though he endeavored to keep his mouth shut. Krezk had monitored his behavior less effectively, however, to the point that he, in his infinite brilliance, thinking it would allow the time to pass quicker, stood up to walk around the skiff, nearly falling overboard as the sailer passed over a dune, having to be saved by a combined effort from Zaik and two other sandbenders, whom he promptly shoved away.

"Should've let him fall" Zaik quipped to the other sandbenders, hoping to ease the tension, but was only met with a growl and prompt, "Fuck off, Zaik" prompting Harzek to step in and order them to "cut the chatter."

Both obeyed.

I was forced to stifle a chuckle as I watched it occur from a distance.

Save that brief moment of levity however, the rest of the ride was passed without much incident in relative silence, until I noticed however that our speed was falling.

"We slowing down for a reason?" Harzek asked, having no reason to yell, the wind now much quieter given our slower pace.

"See that mesa straight ahead?" Shilo pointed out. I turned at the same time Harzek did, and it was a miracle we hadn't seen it up until now. The thing was a massive formation of stone just sitting in the middle of an otherwise untouched sea of sand. "Not the only one in these deserts. Things are hives buzzard wasps. We're not small enough to eb their prey, but you stir the nest, and those things come after you, their venom will be more than enough to render you dead in just a few excruciating hours."

"So shouldn't we be going as fast as we can away from it rather than sitting here?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"These rock formations aren't just used as hives. Well, they are, but not for wasps. Some are cleared out. Turned into residencies for other tribes in the area. Mostly the larger ones that could spare the manpower to take and clear these things." He turned away from us now, to one of his fellow tribals, who we now noticed was peering through a looking glass at the rock formation. "See anything, Hulon?"

There was no response for a while as the man supposedly named Hulon kept his eye trained through the scope, eventually saying while still holding it to his eye, "Can't be sure, but I think I can make out some sailers."

"Can you tell which tribe?"

"Too far to see any insignias. Sailer make looks to be She'wani, though."

"We'll keep our distance then." Shilo turned to the driver. "Keep a wide berth. They may be waiting in ambush. I don't want us taking any chances!" He was met with a nod of affirmation.

"Expecting trouble?" Harzek asked.

"Can never be too sure. I know the She'wani's leader, respectable sort, but I also know he's losing control over his tribe. Too weak-willed. Younger upstarts challenging his authority and acting on their own whims." He turned to the driver once again, yelling loud enough to also be heard by the adjacent skiff which had also stopped when we did. "Get the sailers moving. Make for 300 degrees. Let's not give them any reason to-"

He was interrupted by the sudden boom of a burst of sand rising from the desert floor, and the sickening crack of the sailer to our side being torn apart by the sheer force of the sudden torrent of sand that had emerged as though from midair. It was there one moment, gone the next, only a slight disruption in the sand left in its wake. It had been pulled into the earth, beneath the sand. We're next.

"Ambush ambush!"

We could all feel the way the world shifted around us, as though we were suddenly floating on air, the sand beneath our sailer shifting to unveil a gaping hole leading straight beneath ground. There was no pause, no hesitation in the minds of the sandbenders, Shilo included, as they dropped all else they were doing, reporting to respective sides of the vessel, counteracting the rotation of the sinkhole that threatened to consume us. "Gani, get us out of here!" Cried Shilo, prompting the man who I could only assume to be Gani to drop his effort in assisting the counter-rotation, instead funneling a stream of sand to the sail, despite the tension in his body, managing in a fluid movement to create a tornado of sand, generating enough of a current to get the sail flapping, but the suction of the whirlpool was not easily overcome.

There was nothing we could do. Harzek, Zaik, Krezk, and I were all severely out of our elements, literally.

"Shilo, help me out over here!" Gani cried.

Shilo now, still putting all of his energy into counteracting the sinkhole's pull, sweat beading down his aged skin as just barely visible behind the wrappings around his head, shifted one hand from the wall of sand enveloping us to the tornado that Gani was generating. It noticeably had grown in strength now, and a very real struggle was being fought between us and whoever was responsible for this sinkhole, because by no means was it a natural cause.

We were rising back to the night, the sinkhole being slowed, and the artificial wind being granted to our sail allowing us to take a vertical ascent out of our destined tomb. The sandbenders had dug their feet into the vessel, essentially using the sand scattered across the sailer as a glue, bracing them in place. Meanwhile, those of us without their same gifts were clinging onto the vessel for dear life, reduced to simply praying, watching the light slowly approaching further, praying it didn't die.

"One last push!" Shilo cried. "On 3! 1…2…3!"

And in one unified motion, the sandbenders focused on the sinkhole, himself included, retracted their arms, pulling sand from the walls enveloping us to the sides of the vessel, then in just as combined a maneuver, pushed back out with a force that sent our sailer not just out of the sinkhole, but into the air, propelling like an artillery shell out of a rifled barrel.

We hung in the air for but a few seconds before gliding back down to the surface, the landing softened by the sail and attentiveness of the benders. The moment we touched solid ground, Harzek immediately stood up from where he'd been clinging onto the skiff, first accounting for Krezk and Zaik who still both appeared to be present. He immediately looked off to the side of the sailer where, more or less, the other vessel had been just seconds ago, now gone to the sands. "Wh-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence before, out of the sand, emerged figures: 2, 4, 8, 16, exponentially growing in their numerical strength.

"Get us out of here, now!" Shilo ordered, already joining the effort of creating a second whirlwind to get us moving, but before we could even begin to shift from where we were lying, no shortage of tentacle-like constructs of sand emerged from the desert surface, clinging to the sides of our vessel, holding us in place, ripe for the kill.

I hadn't been able to act now, but I could now. I shot up from where I'd been seated, sending an arc of fire towards the tentacles clinging onto our port side, slicing through them like a hot knife through butter, the base of the tentacles remaining intact, but the sand that had been clinging onto our vessel, now longer under the bender's control, withering away, scattered grains retreating back into an ocean of clones.

The other Hami were already getting to work countering the starboard tentacles before I rushed over to them as well, similarly severing the ties holding us down, but just as I'd done so, we were being clung back onto on our port, bow, and stern. We didn't have enough people. We'd had a firebender, Zaphri, on the other vessel, but I had the cutting feeling that he and the others were out of the picture now. Damnit. This was a fight we weren't escaping from.

There was no denying that as the first wave of sandbenders approached. "They're here to steal the skiff!" somebody yelled, stating what, for me, hadn't been obvious, but not explained the effort they went through in capturing us beneath the desert ocean rather than simply tearing us apart in a moment's notice. They'd try and get close, not wanting to risk their prize with too aggressive of a forward assault. Instead, they would try boarding.

Digging their feet into the sand, hardening the grains around them, and sliding forward as though using ice skates on a frozen lake, they approached, using the sand encompassing their feet to launch them the last few feet onto the skiff. They sought to take us with surprise, but they'd staked this ambush on catching us in the sinkhole rather than facing us in a close-combat battle. They may have had the numbers, but we had the preparation, and such became clear as the first She'wani to board our vessel was promptly impaled through the chest by Zaik's spear, the second cut from shoulder to stomach by Krezk's sword. That covered the first group on the starboard. On the port side however, where Harzek and I were preparing for battle, we faced stiffer opposition, likely having seen a firebender present here, figuring it best to remove me from the picture first. It didn't go their way.

I managed to catch a She'wani in the leg with a particularly powerful blast as he zipped through the sand towards us, tearing his leg in half at the knee, sending him toppling to the sand, verifiably out of the picture. I'd stayed watching him, wondering if any of his compatriots would come to his aid, rendering themselves easy targets for me as well. In watching him as he bled out, however, I'd left my flanks vulnerable. I'd only caught sight of the sandbender directly to my right with the periphery of my vision, turning to face him as he raised a first covered in hardened sand, recoiled, ready to strike, until a wave of brown mist engulfed his face, directed by Shilo. It had all occurred in a blur, but when the mist faded, the skin on his face had been torn to ribbons, the mist that had killed him composed of hundreds of individual grains sent at high speed, burrowing themselves into the pores, scraping through the topmost layers akin to how one grates cheese, leaving his head a mangled mess as he toppled over backwards over the side of the skiff.

It was only when he was down that I heard the gurgled choke behind me, turning to see a masked sandbender, blood soaking his head coverings around the exit point of a steel blade that emerged from where his mouth would be beneath the coverings. The blade retracted, and the She'wani collapsed to his knees, revealing Harzek, and behind him, another sandbender who, at my quick intervention in pushing Harzek aside and sending a burst of fire into the man's face, his head coverings melting along with half of his head, would be unable to finish his attack. A small nod to one another was all it took for Harzek and me to acknowledge one another's deeds in assisting one another, knowing there was no time for celebrations as the skirmish still was being fought.

Somewhere along the fight, the air had around us had grown progressively shrouded, a brown mist covering the world around us, limiting our lines of sight. Whether it was to shroud their movements, hide incoming reinforcements, or something else, I couldn't know, but what I did know was that we were in by no means a pleasant position.

In turning back to the starboard side, I saw that the fight was intensifying there as well, my split-second glance only enough to tell me that Zaik was injured, Krezk stood over them, blade lodged in the heart of a She'wani, a Hami bender, Gani by the looks of him, was creating a wall of sand, warding off the attackers.

My glimpse wasn't long, but enough to have me praying that their numbers didn't go much higher or this fight wouldn't last long for us. I sent another blast of fire at an approaching She'wani, missing unfortunately, but the radius of the fireball and its impact enough to make him stumble on his trajectory towards us, buying some time.

Shilo had bent the sand off to our side, creating a trench of sorts, tripping two approaching She'wani, immediately prompting Shilo to reclose the trench he made, trapping one of the benders beneath the sand, the other just barely managing to escape, recovering his footing and sending a solidified pike of sand towards the man, catching him in the shoulder. I was unsure if the pike merely grazed him or struck him, but notwithstanding, he was down. There was no time to worry about him as I countered with a fire stream, ensuring I caught him in the line of fire as he attempted to re-engage in his sand-skiing. He didn't escape.

Harzek was already checking on Shilo when I turned. The man seemed to be alive, the shard only tearing some flesh at the edge of his shoulder. He was already rising back to his feet. He'd be fine. Assuming any of us lived, that is. "Shilo!" I yelled. "We need to go! Now!"

He nodded, turning to the starboard side. "Hulon! At the helm! Gani! Get us out of here!"

I turned to momentarily face his gaze. Hulon was down, on the ground, his condition grim. Our starboard was being hit. Hard. Shilo didn't waste any time, already forming a sand spout into existence by the sail. The She'wani were too occupied in boarding us to have had their attention shifted on holding us down. We began moving.

I finished burning a She'wani on the starboard just as Harzek's blade cleaved halfway through an enemy's midsection when those still on the surface began noticing we were moving once again, all those present dropping whatever they were doing, sending sand funnels to hold us down, others turning the sand beneath our vessel into a near liquid state, quicksand, sinking us into the earth.

Oh I don't think so. I quickly burned through the funnels holding our port side, the living Hami on the starboard unmaking the ones holding us down there. I approached the stern of the vessel, planting my feet, clasping onto whatever handhold I could find with my left hand. "Hold on!" I yelled to nobody in particular, not giving them much time however as time was something we didn't have much to spare. If we stayed here, we'd die. If we stayed here, we'd be overrun, captured or killed. We'd never find the library. We'd never learn how to win the war. The Fire Nation's advance would grind to a halt. I'd die disgraced, my last career move disobeying direct orders and overriding a superior's command, my potential blown to shreds, my destined future lost. It was that fear, that anger, that dedication to create my own fate, my own destiny, that fueled the energy that I channeled within me into my right arm, creating a powerful stream of fire that shot out, the sheer force of the blast propelling us forward, sending the entire vessel shooting out of the quicksand, speeding on forward ahead.

Blasts of sand chased behind us, but none came close, be them shooting off course or being warded off by our benders. We were away from the immediate fighting.

The wall of sand before us grew. We were drawing close. None of us knew what to expect on the other side, be it reinforcements, empty desert, or maybe even those buzzard wasps Shilo had warned us about. But whatever it was, we had to believe it was better than saying here.

We reached the wall of sand, bracing ourselves for the transition ahead, and readying for what lay on the other side.