Survival Is Not Easy
"Come on!" It was less a scream, and more a battle cry as you looked to your fellows and your band of brothers as the sappers prepared another lighting strike through the breach, to stop the food supplies from being delivered to Ba Sing Sa. It was a raid like any other.
Your father had finally promised victory to the Firelord. To Grandfather and all the others. There would be a great victory for the Fire nation, for the world. There would finally be peace. Balance.
Order.
And then, as the rocks tumbled down the wall, and Eaeth Kingdom soldiers charged at your men.
You smiled. You would be doing your part to secure the Fire Nation's Glory.
A fire blast left your hands, and then another, and another, before a spearman, undeterred and not frightened by your flames, thrust his polearm to your side.
It missed, and you rolled, once to get away from the spear, and again to avoid a boulder that nearly crushed you.
Around you, you could see the others fall, or try to complete the objective of the raid, to destroy the supply convoy.
You needed to follow them. To help them.
You cried out in pain as an arrow struck your side, but you ran forward again, blasting another fireball at your enemy.
And you took another arrow and felt your arm go numb from pain, launching a fireblast to stop a bolder coming your way. "Come on! We can do this!" His words seemed hollow, as more of the men under his command began to flee, or fall. Courage was not going to carry the day. They were fighting an enemy that was far more powerful than whatever they saw.
You breathed out a breath of fire, scaring all the soldiers that followed you
And pain finally overtook you, with the last image that you saw… was your father charging in.
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You arose from your slumber feeling tired still, yawning as if the sun was rising over the world. Yet it was You groaned, feeling pain rise from your side as you tried to move, to feel anything. There was no control in your hands, and all you could feel was… nothing. Nothing but pain, your heart beating on your chest as you tried to look around.
The redness of the tent that you were in was almost a serenade of blood you had seen, the uncomfortable sensation of wood on your back made into a color that was too much for your eyes.
"My prince… we were worried you would not wake." The words from the surgeon seemed broken and lost within your mind, muted and confusing as your eyes darted around the tent, looking for the one person that mattered.
The only person that mattered. "Uh." words died in your throat as you tried to speak. You wanted to move, to find out where Fat- The General was. You needed to be sure that he was okay!
You turned to see a red banner draped over a table. Bloody bandages strewed the yellow grass, with what little blood remained within the body and on the wood dripping down to the ground, staining the grass red like a white canvas with a master's brush.
You rolled off the table and began to crawl away from the doctor. "My Prince, please stop!"
You crawled across the ground, not caring that the pain was unbearable, and you saw blood leave your side, as you reopened your wounds.
And then the tarp fell, and all you could do was scream in anguish.
The Dragon of the West, the Fire Lord's greatest general. The man who had nearly broken Ba Sing Se… was dead.
The siege had no hope. No chance of victory.
And you had nothing anymore. Your father was dead.
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The Battle of Ba Sing Se, besides the emotional distraught that losing your father gave you… was the surface of the wounds that you suffered.
(Choose 3)
[]A Missing Arm: Being a Sapper was one of the most dangerous jobs of the Seige, and you would have never let your men face the danger without you leading the charge. It detonated too early, and the healers could not save it, well you lost most of your left arm, at least the hand prosthetic was serviceable, but you couldn't bring yourself to use one of the new metal arms. It felt too alien and relied too much on parts that would keep you in the Fire Nation capital.
[]A Crippled Leg: Your leg was broken in over 25 places. The medics were afraid to amputate, fearing reprisal from your father that would never come. Now it was too late to remove it safely, even if you wanted it removed, the possibility of you dying was too much to risk. You had a cane, and you had to use it for the rest of your days. With luck, maybe you can get used to walking a short distance without it, but…you'd never walk as you once had again.
[]A Scarred Face: War always carries scars. Yours only marks your face. Now no one can even look at you without wincing in pain, in disgust, and fear.
[]Blinded (One Eye): You don't know what happened. One moment you could see out of your left side… then there was nothing. A piece of rock finding its way through your helmet. You didn't notice it when the bandages were on, and you thought it was nothing… but once they were removed. It was hard to miss.
[]Deafened: You can't hear out of your left ear anymore. An explosion that went off too soon, when you were not prepared, not expecting it. You remembered that it blew a hole in the Outer Wall, the foothold… the possibility of final victory at hand… now only a distant reminder.
[]Trauma: Every night you dream of falling rocks, of your friends screaming. Of fire and explosions, and a falling wall that just keeps bleeding red. There were so many… so many. And you can't sleep at night anymore. The nightmares can't hurt you while you are still awake.
[]A Ruined Reputation (The Common citizens): Your Father was the Hero. The jovial, and respected Dragon of the West. He had been in this war in its longest years, masterminded its greatest victories, and brought the Outer Wall down. Now he's dead a Martyr for his nation… the blame for the failure was not placed on the honored dead… but on the still, crippled living. How could you hope to succeed him? But they saw you not as the Dragons successor. But his shame and shadow. Defeat only brought shame, and you lost your honor on the outer walls of Ba Sing Se. if not in deed, then in spirit.
[]A Ruined Reputation (The Army): The Army had followed your father into hell, and you along with it. They'd paid for their glory in blood, sweat, and tears. They were brothers and sisters in arms you loved as your own, your father loved them all; and by ordering that retreat on the eve of something to make that loss worth it. It stained your legacy. You were no Iroh.. You were the coward who begged to save their lives from a meatgrinder without end and your own. And they never forgave you.
[]A Ruined Reputation (Birthright): Your Father was always the popular one. He was Azulon's favorite. He was the one who was to succeed. Ozai always viewed you as a threat, always being vocal… or not, about his desire for the throne, how he could win the war that your father could not. Your status is now questioned and even Azulon thinks you are not fit for the throne despite your sacrifices and dedication.
AN: I blame my friends for giving me this idea, letting it grow, commenting on it... and finally loving it enough to pay to actually do this.
Yes someone paid me to do this.
So as a pre christmas treat.
Here is an AU that will be very interesting. I hope.
And this will be a surprise, but I will not roll the dice here. No Magoose Dice. Nothing like that.
Only the choices you make, and the consequences of those choices.