Behind the Flames .:H2OVanoss:.

.:Chapter 20:.

"Come now, is this really the way you wish to die Katame? You could lead the world's most powerful military one day! Don't throw it to the dust like a fool!" The captain sheathed his sword with a scowl.
Luke stepped forward. When Jonathan finally got a closer look at his old friend, he dragged his hand over his mouth to conceal a gasp. His right eye was scarred over with a marking of an 'X'. The eye itself had no color, only a ghostly gray and pink hue. "The only armies I wish to lead will be the ones shoving spears through your throat."
The captain stared into Luke's eyes unmoving. The wind briefly stopped rustling the icy trees. Not even the dragon made any noise, but watched with curious eyes.
"..I am very disappointed in you. I suppose the others were right, though- islanders are not worth our time to have been trained, you are all too soft and unreasonable! At any moment you would betray us because you have no honor or loyalty to anyone! The world could do with less of your kind, dispose of them!" With a wave of his arm, many soldiers sprung into action.
Luke and Craig stood side by side, overflowing with fury and determination. The flames dancing on their fingers began to grow, fueled by the boiling anger in their hearts. This was the last straw, there is nothing more dishonorable than killing a dragon, in fact, there was no honor in anything that the Fire Nation had done!
Evan's head thrummed with exhilaration. He looked towards Tyler and opened his mouth to insist they helped, but the words never made it out as their leader sprang from the brush. Just as the first synchronized blasts of fire were about to engulf their friends, a thick slab of stone broke through the ground, blocking the attack and sending fire in all directions.
"What the hell is that?!" The captain cried. Craig and Luke looked around in confusion as well.
"Well, it's attack now or be burned alive!" Brian rolled from his spot and leapt into the air, landing with a crushing blow to the ground and kicking stones larger than his torso at the first line of soldiers. Brock soon after led the rest of the squad onto the battlefield.
Tyler launched himself high above the others, landing directly in front of the other leader. His earthly green eyes bore down with hatred on the smaller man.
"W-who the hell are you?! Stay back!" He raised his flaming fists in defense. Tyler raised an eyebrow, crouched, spun, and knocked his opponent's feet out from under him. Once he was on the ground, Tyler stood once more, stomped his foot into the earth, and catapulted the man into the forest.

Meanwhile, Craig and Luke were frozen in their places. Craig looked up at the man who quickly approached and urged them to their feet. He met the familiar ambers of the person who swore to return for them, Marcel.
          "Marcel! You came back!!" He felt his eyes water with relief.
          "Of course I did, I made a promise all those months ago. I'm going to get you guys out of here, I swear it." He smiled and embraced the lad briefly, then pulled back and handed him his crooked glasses. "We'll fix them later, but we need your help to fight and to free that dragon!"
          Craig smiled brightly. "Right! Let's do it!" He grabbed his glasses and bounded forward.
          Luke took Marcel's hand and pulled him into a hug, repeating words of gratitude over and over. "We can catch up later, Marcel, but for now let's kick some ass."
          "I couldn't have said it any better myself, bud."

          Fire and smoke soon became the sight of everything around them. Spontaneously soldiers would stumble across them and quickly get slaughtered by the rebels. It felt like they downed at least a hundred men, but never got any closer to defeating the enemy.
          "How many are left?! They just keep coming!" Brock shielded his eyes from a gust of smoke, back to back with Brian and Jonathan.
          "Just keep fighting! Don't let your guard down!" Brian barely coughed out a reply. Their eyes stung and their lungs cried for clean air.
          Through the smoke, Jon witnessed something suspicious through the thick haze. A group of six or seven Fire Nation soldiers exited the cave behind the dragon, and approached it with swords drawn and glistening with blood. Two of them carried large circular objects in their hands.
           They're gonna try to kill the dragon!!" He didn't care if the others saw or heard, he only sprinted to the men with whips of water trailing his fingers. "Get away from it!!"
          Unfazed, they brought up their swords and pointed them towards him. The large objects in two of the mens' hands were oval shaped and decorated with shades of red colors. Strange golden designs were laced over the casing in beautiful patterns. They almost looked like... eggs! Perhaps these were Dragon eggs!
          "If those are what I think they are, you'd better put them back right now or you'll never be able to feel anything but the fires of hell for the rest of eternity!" Jonathan threatened, but they only laughed. He could sense the eyes of the mother dragon piercing the hide of his tunic. She watched her children with worry and desperation, growling lowly with fumes exhaling from her nostrils.
          "Oh come on now, this doesn't seem like a very safe thing to do; giving little babies to a scary masked man. Who knows what he'll do with them!" They laughed at him. The self conscious feelings itched at his heart for the first time since he got used to his mask.
          Pushing the feelings aside, he lashed out with his sword of water and ice. It collided with one of the mens' head, slicing into his face a good few inches, and left him to bleed out. They immediately stopped laughing and went into defensive mode. The two clutched the eggs harder, but the man in front grinned devilishly.
          "If you want these eggs, come and get them, boy." He stepped back and ordered the last three soldiers not holding anything to attack. They surrounded Jon and thrust their fire-soaked weapons at him. Pulling his water to his arms, he barely dodged the sword to his stomach, grabbed ahold of it with the water, and wrenched it out of the man's hand so forcefully that it tore the whole hand out of its place. He heard the crack of bone and the shrill screams of his pain.
          The next man swung his sword out of Jon's reach, then back around again towards his arm. Jonathan tried to move away, but the sword met his arm just barely, and sliced a thin cut all the way from his elbow to wrist. It burned like hell, but he didn't cry out until he slipped on a loose stone and landed on it. The fall forced a dangerous amount of blood to ooze out, soaking his clothes until they dripped with the scarlet liquid.
          Whilst feeling very light headed, he still fought on. He swung his streams out once more, dragging some of his blood out with it, and pierced the torso of the closest person. He fell dead at their feet and the last man took the opportunity to leap on top of Jon, arm forced to his neck, and his sword ready to stab him through the heart. His lungs screamed and his throat felt as if it were collapsing under the pressure. He squirmed and tried to call for help, but no sound would leave his mouth.