Avatar-The Mandate of Heaven

In the expansive sea of skulls, the red dragon languishes in weakened senility. Despite a long and mostly peaceful reign, the frailty of its spine becomes evident, struggling to support the scales that have grown burdensome over the passing years. His vibrant fire, once a spectacle of color and boldness, now flickers as a mere simmering flame, burning its final cinders.

Even the most benevolent rulers find perfection elusive. Like a towering tree felled in minutes, their mighty legacy can crumble swiftly.

Nestled in its infirm sanctuary, the red dragon's feeble instincts fail to discern the approach of its azure kin, slithering through the ocean of skulls with calculated stealth. The crafty azure serpent inches closer, hissing as it invades the slumbering beast's lair. Its whispered enticements, urging the red dragon into a deep sleep, coinciding with the shifting hues of the throne's flames from a warm red to a deceptive blue.

The red dragon succumbs, closing tired eyes, too fatigued to act or even contemplate. As its breath weakens, exhaling perhaps its final fire, the azure dragon bared its fangs to deliver the bite of senicide. In the ephemerality akin to the changing seasons, youthful shortsightedness can shroud even the most glorious eras in ruin.

Yet, this regicidal act will not go unchallenged.

The fires surrounding the throne flare back to life in a vibrant red. The azure dragon recoils, eyes widening in fear as a creature with two formidable claws strides into their presence.

A fiery avian unleashes a furious screech, its wings expanding with each step, shattering skulls beneath its mighty feet. This is no ordinary bird challenging the cunning azure dragon. Every feather ablaze with an unyielding fire, its potency surpassing the serpentine beings. Judging by its vengeful gaze, it has no intention of a timely rescue.

The phoenix, proud and powerful, spreads its wings wide, engulfing both dragons in an agonizing embrace. The fire it commands is so potent that it overwhelms both serpentines, subjecting them to an endless torment.

Yet, the phoenix does not claim the vacant throne. Its fiery aura extinguishes, leaving the ground beneath drenched in blood, covering the countless skulls and the now-cold throne in a chilling aftermath.

...

He awoke from slumber, startled by the enigmatic dream that had gripped him. Gratefully, the sight of his peacefully sleeping wife managed to quell his rapid breaths. Finding comfort in the knowledge that he hadn't disturbed her serene rest beneath the moon's gentle glow, he carefully crawled out of their bed and sought out the spark rocks to light a small, calming candle.

As the flickering flame danced to life, he retreated in trepidation, hands trembling at the sight of the modest fire. Even the mere gaze at it proved challenging, as the rising nervousness threatened to overwhelm him. It was disheartening that such a mundane task couldn't be accomplished without proximity to an element inherently perilous in its natural state.

With the soft glow casting light across the room, he approached a blue mirror, a finely crafted item acquired from Agna Qel'a. Its outline is made from the same type of stone used for Northern Water Tribe betrothal necklaces. A thoughtful gift for his spouse's previous birthday, it evoked pleasant memories but also stirred contrary emotions. His gaze lingered on the reflective surface, narrowing at the third eye etched onto the forehead. Though not real, the implications were enough to intimidate even the most knowledgeable individuals. For him, it served as a stark reminder of the unfortunate curse he bore, a mark of shame and unfilial dishonor.

Running his hand over the tattoo, he tried to push aside memories of the last time he had been compelled to display such a frightening ability. May there never be another situation that demands him to confront this uncontrollable power.

After tying a dark headband over the forehead and completing his topknot, he left their home, stepping onto the porch under the night's cold breeze. Surveying the fields of crops beneath the starry skies, he contemplated the meaning behind the haunting dream. While the profusion of flames instilled terror, it wasn't the sole fear that lingered within him.

He is but a humble soldier, not a shaman skilled in interpreting mysterious dreams. Even the most devout sages and abbots often found themselves at odds, grappling with the elusive nature of destiny. How much is dictated by spirits and how much could be harnessed by mortal hands?

His gaze gradually shifted towards the small stable nestled in their yard. Beneath the wooden shelter, only one creature resided. A scarlet ostrich horse, comfortably nestled in a large straw nest. Some stablemasters went so far as to assert that this particular steed is a rare descendant of the legendary heavenly mounts, believed to trace their origins to a long-lost civilization near the Si Wong Desert. These creatures held such significance in ancient times, an Earth King marched Ba Sing Se's army to procure thousands of these majestic animals. Such was the importance attached to these steeds that their legacy endured through generations, improving the cavalry of the sedentary people to the point of winning their first conflict against the ancient steppe nomads.

The sight of his trusted feathery steed almost convinced him that the dream held genuine significance, a message from the spirits. Swiftly, he dismissed such whimsical thoughts, understanding that the connections could be easily brushed off as mere coincidences. After all, the world is filled with countless ostrich horses adorned with red feathers, why should this one be any different? The only notable feature of his particular steed would be the uniqueness of the red color, which can be easily mistook as blood.

A quiet yawn echoed from the bedroom, followed by the emergence of a woman dressed in a warm blue fur coat, shielding herself from the night's chill. Observing her, the man felt compelled to respond.

"Apologies for disturbing your slumber," he said.

Despite the tranquil setting of their home, a serious demeanor was ever-present. He warmly held the woman's fingerless hands. Both of them carried sorrowful reminders of their past, yet here, in their safe haven, solace is found.

"You shouldn't overexert yourself, Sedna," he advised. "The physician emphasized the importance of rest."

Sedna nodded in a slightly sleepy manner, gently rubbing her stomach protectively. Yet, despite her nod, a hint of stubbornness lingered, insisting on accompanying him during this early hour.

"The cold doesn't bother me much. Unlike you, I'm accustomed to more freezing weathers." She reassured with him with rather logical arguments. Ba Sing Se's climate, fair and temperate, is a far cry from the freezing tundra of the North Pole. This place is an ideal environment, bridging the gap between their disparate homelands. "But what about you, Jang? Do you not feel the cold?"

He shook his head, concealing his body's shivers. Despite the ease with which he could conjure a warming flame, he refrained. Having spent numerous tranquil years together, Sedna easily sensed his troubled mood.

"Bad dreams?" she correctly deduced.

Jang nodded, opting for honesty. He recounted the peculiar dream. A dying red dragon on the brink of being devoured by another dragon shrouded in blue. He described the unexpected arrival of the phoenix, spreading its wings wide to boldly illuminate the scene, outshining the two dragons.

"Who are the dragons?" Sedna inquired. "And who is the phoenix?"

Jang patiently explained, recognizing that those outside the Fire Nation might not be familiar with the symbolism.

The dragon, a powerful and prestigious beast, stands as one of the original benders. Its might and grandeur naturally draw comparisons to the prominent regality of the Fire Lord. To strengthen this association, those deemed worthy enough to tame and ride a dragon usually hail from the Fire Nation's royal family, particularly the Fire Lords themselves.

As for the phoenix, it is an auspicious creature embodying virtue and grace. It appears only in times of good fortune, flaunting its reverence. However, in all honesty, Jang isn't too knowledgeable about this potentially mythical creature. From his perspective, no one, past or present, seems to have actually seen such an avian beast to confirm its existence.

"I know that," Sedna said. "So let me ask you again. Who are the dragons? And who is the phoenix?"

Jang stood confused, assuming that Sedna might have misunderstood his explanation. However, before he could reiterate the symbolism of the two legendary beasts, he froze, realizing that his wife was hinting at a more perilous prospect. Despite local farmers in the agrarian zone perceiving this woman as just an ordinary housewife from the North Pole, mundane appearances can be deceiving. Choosing a peaceful and settled life does not erase the knowledge and experiences gained in youth. After all, the one thing connecting the four nations is the ocean, a conduit for the transfer of knowledge itself.

If the dragon symbolizes the Fire Lord, then what does the dream mean when it depicts the phoenix extinguishing the fire around the throne? Though obscure, the sequences of Jang's vision somewhat convey a message of dynastic change, a violent and regicidal one. It's not uncommon to discover written records of past rulers before their usurpation. Many warlords or ambitious generals who have amassed significant power are often plagued by strange dreams, presumably from spirits or other heavenly deities, urging them to rebel against the reigning monarch. But then again, even the Mandate of Heaven itself is just a game of legitimacy, a perilous and precarious one where the players can easily lose their grip.

"My lady, entertaining such insane ambition is simply erroneous!" Jang grasped Sedna's hand, fearful of why she would even suggest such a thing. "I am loyal to my homeland, and I would never wish to see it harmed."

Naturally, even the most virtuous rebellions would disrupt the lives of the common people. Furthermore, he has no reason to engage in sedition against the Fire Nation when Lord Zuko has ushered them into a prolonged era of peace. Unless the spirits are playing a trick on him, why would he receive such a bizarre dream?

"You misunderstood me," Sedna clarified. "I am more than content with what we have now. That's why if something unexpected does happen in the future, I don't want you to do anything rash. Look around you, this life we've built for ourselves, it's all that truly matters."

It was her way of dissuading Jang from becoming one of those prominent usurpers in history. As ludicrous as it may sound now, many slayers of monarchs came from humble backgrounds, some succeeded, and others failed. While he may be an ordinary soldier in Ba Sing Se, there is no guarantee of what will happen in the future. Destiny is unpredictable, which is why Sedna hopes that he will not perceive their current life as anything lesser than pursuing dynastic ambitions.

Jang grew increasingly worried, hastening to reassure Sedna.

"Sedna, my loyalty to the royal house of the Fire Nation is absolute. Why would I even consider such pointless and seditious goals?" Jang reasoned earnestly. "I was once a royal guard, sworn to protect His Majesty. It's impossible for me to turn my back on him."

Yet, Sedna's concern lingered. "You were a royal guard," she gently reminded him. "But could you truly say that proudly in the future?"

Jang's firm gaze faltered. History is replete with tales of rebellious generals who broke their oaths to their lieges. Even the most loyal individuals are not immune to the allure of forging their own dynasty. Whether driven by dishonor or personal motives, the desire to topple a reigning monarch is as abundant as the sands of the Si Wong desert.

"Please, don't do anything that might destroy everything we have now," Sedna implored, her tone soft with worry. "Every time you step onto the battlefield, I fear that you might not return."

What they possessed may not be grand or opulent, but it was more than they could ever dream of. A modest wooden house amidst a crop field might mean little to the affluent, yet to them, it is an idyllic sanctuary where their troubled pasts felt like nothing but distant memories.

They had no reason to fret about the future. Those 'prophetic dreams' recounted by past throne usurpers were likely embellishments added later to legitimize otherwise treasonous rebellions. It is all superstition of the masses. Even the simplest mind would understand that branding a rebellion as divinely sanctioned is preferable to admitting its true nature, which is a single person's greedy ambition. While beliefs like the Mandate of Heaven or divine favor granted by spirits held sway, they are often exploited gleefully by the more cunning figures in history.

"Perhaps we are both thinking too deeply about this," Jang suggested, lowering the stakes of their conversation. "It's just a weird dream and nothing more. Even if the spirits are trying to warn me about an impending fate, I am more likely to be tasked with the duty of protecting the royal family from future danger. Whatever it is, we don't need to worry about it now. Besides, I promised to one day bring you to the Fire Nation to do some sightseeing around my homeland. I prefer not to have that disrupted by some wasteful gimmick conjured by playful spirits." He glanced at the position of the moon. "Let's head back to bed, there are a few hours before the sun shows itself."

As they turned toward the doorway, the galloping noise of multiple steeds alerted Jang. He quickly shielded Sedna, but his fear soon dissipated when a familiar face appeared amongst the arriving entourage.

At the head of the group stood a bearded man clad in a suit of lamellar. Distinguished by a helmet adorned with twin eagle feathers, his rugged features and the composite bow slung at his waist further emphasized his nomadic roots. It was common for various nomadic peoples to find opportunities among the more meritocratic sedentary armies, serving as skilled cavalrymen and rising through the ranks with their experience gained from living in harsher environments.

Accompanying him was another rider wearing a distinct spangenhelm and completely enveloped in a suit of grey chainmail that obscured most of his features, save for two holes for the eyes to see through. Holding an exotic-looking mace and adorned his steed with similar chainmail, not much could be discerned about the man's identity, shrouded as he was by his armor.

As their respective bodyguards trailed behind, they arrived at the front entrance of the house. Jang stepped forward to greet them, a sense of urgency already prickling at his senses.

"Qibi Heli, Peroz," Jang addressed the two leading figures based on their ranks in the army. "What news do you bring?"

The nomad soldier summarized the situation succinctly. A massive battle had just erupted in the region of Xue Di, not too far from the garrison on this sector of the outer wall. Streams of refugees are flooding across the border, necessitating intervention from soldiers of either Jian Xin or Xiao Zhong.

"I doubt the poor lads from the patrols would be sufficient to handle it," Qibi Heli mused. "Let's hope that the reckless nephew of that Xiao Zhong warlord doesn't do anything rash. We've already received word that he was present at yesterday's battle."

The news is troubling. Despite the ongoing twenty-year war between Jian Xin and Xiao Zhong, both warlords are acutely aware of the consequences should their mutual enemy manage to forge an alliance with the formidable city-state on their doorstep. If Ba Sing Se were to open its gates and unleash its armies, it could easily escalate the conflict to a new level. And so, a delicate balance is being maintained here, with both states striving to remain on cordial terms with Ba Sing Se by avoiding open confrontations. However, secret and accidental incursions still occurred occasionally, with some daring officers even ordering their soldiers to venture into Ba Sing Se's territory to prevent fleeing peasants from reaching the safety of its walls.

"And where is the general?" Jang demanded urgently.

"Out hunting," Qibi Heli revealed. "While we're here talking, he's already heading to where the action is."

The nomad warrior tossed an object to Jang, who caught and inspected it. It is a fish-shaped military tally, the physical symbol of the general's official authority over his army. Such items are never meant to leave the owner's possession unless under special circumstances, and even borrowing them would warrant an official investigation.

"I see that he's always one step ahead of me," Jang lamented inwardly, careful to conceal his emotions.

"All the men are preparing to march out," Qibi Heli informed him. "Don't worry, I've already told the lads from your camp. They should be ready when you meet them."

Observing Peroz's departure, likely to ride ahead and lead his part of the army, Jang hurried back into the house. He made his way to the dedicated armory, where an array of weapons and equipment awaited. In the center stood an empty suit of metallic armor composed of darkened scales, forged with steel imported from the fire islands and further protected by a sheet of dark lamellar wrapped around the neck, curving outward. It is a slight departure from the heavier cataphract armor typical of their unit, but its design promised agility and resilience on the battlefield.

Upon donning it, Jang observed Sedna meticulously inspecting the weapon soon to be wielded. It is a custom-made three-pointed lance from Jang's homeland, a relic passed down for generations. Sedna's expression betrayed her concern as he picked up the polearm.

"Stay safe," Sedna urged, her gaze wary. "Try to avoid as much fighting as possible."

Jang nodded, securing the helmet in place and proceeding to adorn his steed with black lamellar armor. However, Sedna's wise counsel proved easier said than done, for their general is not one to shy away from conflict.

After bidding his wife farewell, he set off with Qibi Heli, travelling across sprawling farmlands and small agrarian zone villages. As they approached the gate, soldiers assembled around them. A formidable procession of heavily armored infantry poured out of a massive circular earthen structure. Alongside them rode a contingent of mounted soldiers, with powerful war machines trailing not far behind.

As the colossal walls loomed into view, they ascended a hill where soldiers bearing the banners of Ba Sing Se awaited. From their vantage, the two officers surveyed the massive host assembled before them, many already illuminated by torchlight. A sea of steel enveloped both men and steeds, each unit organized into their respective cohorts. Polearms are all raised to the heavens, awaiting the command to advance.

Jang suppressed his apprehension at the sight of so many flames, mindful of the dim but calming light of the moon overhead.

"Three thousand Jian'er troops stand ready!" bellowed an armored officer to the senior commanders. "We await the general's orders!"

Jang hoisted the fish-shaped military standard aloft, ensuring all could see. It was a prudent gesture, providing an additional layer of reassurance to the soldiers, emphasizing that tonight's venture beyond the walls was sanctioned by the general himself.

All had assembled. The bulk of the army gripped their polearms and crossbows with eager anticipation. Cavalries brandished their lances, reins taut. And among their more formidable assets, two war beasts were summoned, poised to cleave through any who dares to oppose them.

"Open the gates!" Jang commanded, his voice carrying over the din.

Nearby, an officer waved his flag, signaling the wall sentries to act. Despite the immense size of the structure, they could discern figures in green brigandine armor executing precise Earthbending maneuvers. Slowly, the gates shifted apart, revealing the coarse, desolate sands beyond the city's protective walls.

With the blast of an oxen's horn from Qibi Heli, the entire army began its march. Men and beasts moved as one, a unified force.

Jang watched as the Jian'er troops poured forth from the bastion. He readied his steed, determined not to lag too far behind the true commander of this heavily armed contingent.

With a reassuring pat to his scarlet ostrich horse, he prepared to charge ahead.

"Let us ride, Bonghwang."