Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

The Southern Army

The Iron Dragon, a colossal behemoth of steel and billowing smoke, cleaved through the turquoise waves, finally anchoring off the rugged shores of the Southern Earth Kingdom. Dust devils swirled in the distance, dancing around the jagged mountain peaks that framed the horizon. Khan Rokkun, his chest swelled with triumph, strode down the swaying gangplank, flanked by his steadfast lieutenants, Oghuz and Taijuk.

Beside them walked Princess Azula, her golden eyes scanning the landscape with a mix of boredom and sharp curiosity.
The sight before them was a vivid departure from the scarred battlefields they knew. A vast encampment sprawled across the valley, a thriving mosaic of life amid the Nomads' ceaseless campaigns. Women with sun-kissed faces tended to modest crops in terraced fields, children laughed as they chased glowing fireflies among the tents, and weary Nomad warriors embraced their families with quiet relief.

This was no mere outpost—it was a sanctuary, a self-sustaining haven forged from conquest.

Rokkun spread his arms wide, his long copper hair catching the breeze, his amber eyes gleaming with pride. "Welcome to Xanadu," he declared, his voice booming with that signature cocky charm. "My stronghold, my heart. Built on the bones of the old world, rising stronger than ever."

Azula arched an eyebrow, unaccustomed to such domestic warmth in a warrior's domain. "Women and children?" she remarked, her tone laced with faint disdain. "An unusual sight for a raider's camp."

Rokkun chuckled, a low, magnetic sound. "They're the fire that fuels us, Princess. They keep our spirits burning bright, our blades sharp."

A young woman approached, her eyes alight with genuine joy. She threw her arms around Rokkun in a warm embrace. "Brother! You're back!"

"Zenah," Rokkun replied, his stern features softening as he returned the hug. He turned to Azula. "Princess Azula, this is my sister, Zenah. You met briefly at the gathering in Bin-er."

Azula, intrigued by another woman her age in this rugged world, offered a polite nod. "A pleasure, Zenah."

"The pleasure's mine, Princess," Zenah said, her smile warm and inviting. "You must be weary from the voyage. Let me show you to your quarters."

With a nod of thanks, Azula followed Zenah, leaving Rokkun to confer with his men. He gestured toward a nearby command tent. "Come, let's plan our next strike."

Inside the tent, the air hung heavy with the scent of incense and strategy maps. Rokkun settled onto a rough-hewn bench, his amber gaze fixed on the parchment spread before them. "The Coalition is fractured," he stated firmly. "Now's the time to press our advantage. We prepare for the invasion of the Fire Nation."

Oghuz nodded, his broad frame casting a shadow. "And King Xuo? His defeat at Bin-er should erode his ties to Zuko."
Rokkun scoffed. "Xuo's a survivor, but a coward at heart. He'll scramble to protect his throne. Still, we can't dismiss him lightly."

Taijuk's eyes burned with intensity as he leaned in. "Why not eliminate him? Burn his city and be done with it."

Rokkun shook his head. "That would only unite the remnants against us. No—we need precision. And remember..." A grim smile tugged at his lips. "...Zuko will call on the Avatar for help."

Taijuk slammed a fist on the table, rattling the tea cups. "That airbender pest! He always meddles when we least need it."

Rokkun leaned back, thoughtful. "If the Avatar comes, I'll face him. I've bested greater foes."

Oghuz cautioned, "Don't underestimate him, Khan. His power is vast."

Rokkun waved it off. "We'll fortify Xanadu, train relentlessly. When he arrives, he'll learn the true might of the Nomads."
A heavy silence settled, broken only by the distant crackle of campfires.

After hours of deliberation, a plan emerged: continued raids in the southern territories to consolidate power and gather intelligence, all while secretly amassing resources for the Fire Nation assault.

As Zenah led Azula through the encampment, the path wound upward toward a grand structure perched on a rocky outcrop—a palace of dark stone and intricate carvings, its towers etched with dragon motifs. The air grew cooler, scented with wild herbs from the surrounding hills.

"This way, Princess," Zenah said, guiding her along a stone pathway. "Your quarters are in the palace. It once belonged to Rokkun's father, General Shoka—a relic of his old campaigns, now our heart in Xanadu."

Azula glanced at the imposing facade, noting the faded Fire Nation banners intertwined with Nomad symbols. "Impressive. Though it lacks the... refinement of the royal palace in the capital."

Zenah laughed lightly, a sound free of malice. "It's not meant for luxury. It's a fortress, built for strength. Come, let's get you settled."

They entered a spacious chamber overlooking the valley, furnished with simple yet sturdy pieces—woven rugs, a low table, and a bed draped in furs. As Azula surveyed the room, Zenah poured tea from a nearby kettle, offering a cup.

"You're Rokkun's sister," Azula said, accepting the tea and taking a seat. "Yet you don't share his full fire. Half-sister?"

Zenah nodded, sitting across from her, her expression open. "Yes. My mother was the leader of an Earth Kingdom village—strong, unyielding, like the mountains themselves. The Nomads... destroyed it during one of their early raids. I was young, spared only because Rokkun saw something in me. Our father, Shoka, had taken my mother as a consort after the conquest. When she died in the flames, Rokkun claimed me as kin."

Azula's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "And you joined them? The people who razed your home?"

Zenah sipped her tea, her gaze steady. "At first, it was survival. But over time, I saw the truth in their ways. The world is cruel, Princess—nations rise and fall on strength alone. The Nomads don't hide behind walls or treaties; they embrace the chaos, forge unity from it. Rokkun taught me that power isn't in bloodlines or thrones—it's in the will to conquer, to protect what's yours. I could have hated him, but instead, I chose to build something new. The spirits favor the bold, not the broken."

Azula tilted her head, a spark of respect flickering in her eyes.
"A pragmatic philosophy. I can admire that. The Fire Nation's old ways were rigid, brittle. Perhaps your brother's vision has merit."

Zenah smiled faintly. "He's more than a conqueror. He's family. And now, so are you, if you'll have it."

The two women shared a moment of quiet understanding, the camp's distant sounds filtering through the windows.

As the sun dipped below the peaks, casting Xanadu in a fiery glow, the Nomads gathered for a hearty feast. Laughter echoed among the soldiers, mingling with the crackle of bonfires, a brief respite from the wars ahead. Yet beneath it all burned a fierce resolve—a hunger for victory that would propel them toward the Fire Nation's heart.