Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

The Great Army Approaches

The wind howled a mournful dirge, whipping the waves into a frenzy of whitecaps that clawed at the shores of the Fire Sages' monastery. Rain lashed against the ornate windows, blurring the meticulously crafted fire lilies etched into the glass. Inside, the air crackled with a tension thicker than the storm raging outside. The assembled Fire Sages, their faces etched with worry, huddled in the grand chamber, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows that mimicked the chaotic weather.

Thunder, a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the island, echoed across the sea. Each boom was punctuated by the sharp, blinding flash of lightning, illuminating the churning ocean in stark, momentary brilliance. It was in one of these flashes that the Great Sage, his brow furrowed with deep concern, saw it.

He moved closer to the window, his breath catching in his throat. Another flash of lightning illuminated the horizon, revealing a sight that made his blood run cold. A vast armada, a sea of dark hulls and crimson sails, was bearing down upon them. The sheer scale of it was breathtaking, terrifying. Hundreds of ships, their shapes barely discernible in the stormy twilight, stretched as far as the eye could see, a dark tide surging towards the Fire Nation's heart.

At the forefront of this imposing fleet, its silhouette cutting sharply against the tempestuous sky, was the flagship. Larger than any of the other vessels, its bow was adorned with a fearsome, metallic cannon, its gaping maw promising destruction.

The great sage turned away from the window, his face pale.

"The invasion comes," he announced, his voice barely a whisper above the roar of the storm. A collective gasp filled the chamber. The Sages exchanged fearful glances, the weight of the impending conflict pressing down on them.

"We must warn Fire Lord Zuko immediately!" the Great Sage declared, his voice regaining its authority.

An elderly Sage with a long, white beard stepped forward. "But the storm, Great Sage. No messenger could possibly navigate these waters tonight."

The Great Sage nodded grimly. "You are right. A sea like this would swallow a small messenger boat whole. We'll have to wait until morning. As soon as the storm breaks, even a little, we send word. A hawk, the fastest we have. It must reach the capital city with all haste."

He looked back out at the storm, at the endless line of ships illuminated by another flash of lightning. The Iron Dragon seemed to loom larger now, a symbol of the overwhelming force that was about to descend upon them. He knew that dawn, when it finally broke, would bring with it not the light of a new day, but the crimson tide of war.