97 AG
The night was quiet within the capital; no celebrations were expected any time soon. With the crown prince in exile, everyone remained guarded and cautious. Agent Iku sat alone inside his office, the lacquered paper catching the dim orange light of a single candle lamp.
The political upheaval had left him buried in paperwork. His report was already several pages long, yet he still found himself pausing, uncertain of how much he should write and how much the Fire Lord wished to know.
He had been ordered to gather intelligence on Captain Lin Renshi, a name that had begun to circulate among field officers like a storm whispered at sea. Stories spread of a young commander whose company had become infamous, even among their enemies, for soldiers who would march through mud without hesitation.
The Fire Lord's interest had been brief but unmistakable, a single remark delivered to his team: "Verify her loyalty." That had been enough to set the intelligence division in motion. Iku began his report with what could be verified.
'The Renshi family,' he wrote, 'remains one of the oldest noble lines tied to the unification of the Fire Islands. Their influence does not rely on politics but on industry and knowledge. For centuries, their forges have supplied the army with everything they needed. Their lineage traces back to the inventors of several early armor prototypes and ignition mechanisms, suggesting a link to the Ministry of Technology long before its formal creation. They also produced weapons of every kind.'
He paused, letting the ink dry, and reached for the next sheet.
'Historical records also suggest that the family once shared the secret of lightning generation with the royal line during the reign of Xu Ping An. Though current law now restricts the technique to the royalty, stolen scrolls imply that the Renshi bloodline still guards that knowledge. No member of the family, however, has been seen using it publicly in over two hundred years.'
Iku leaned back slightly, rubbing his temple. He had interviewed enough engineers to know that pride, loyalty and commitment were the common currency of the Renshi forge. Their machines were as much legend as weapons, and their research even aided the discovery of steam engines before the beginning of the war.
The family aided Nyn Chei in developing the first defensive patrol ships. Vessels that would evolve into the Fire Nation's first steam-powered cruiser, igniting the rise of the greatest navy the world had ever seen. In official reports, the family's innovations were described with careful restraint, avoiding any hint of independence. Their loyalty couldn't even be questioned.
He continued writing.
'The family's current head, Lord Renshi Kaien, is best known for his role as an inventor and metallurgist, his sharp mind now turned toward business. His son, Raizo, once trained for the military, left that education aside after an accident involving experimental firebending techniques. He is now believed to work as a bounty hunter for high-ranking nobles, utilizing a rare form of firebending known as compression control, colloquially referred to as combustion bending. The art involves channeling concentrated chi through the forehead as a conduit, creating explosive ignition points at distance. It is highly unstable and lethal to the untrained.'
He hesitated before continuing.
'Both the son and daughter were injured during early experiments with this firebending technique. Raizo now relies on prosthetics for an arm and a leg, while the daughter, Lin, survived with extensive mechanical replacements on all limbs, even on her hip and spine, reportedly powered through internal chi conduits and mechanical support. The precision of these constructs suggests access to restricted schematics, likely provided by the Ministry of War in exchange for the family's benefits.'
He set the brush down for a moment and studied the lines already written. None of it was false, yet none of it revealed what Ozai truly wanted. The Fire Lord was not asking for history or rumor. He wanted to know if Captain Lin Renshi was an asset or a threat.
He resumed writing.
'Lin Renshi enlisted at fourteen, bypassing the traditional academy track. Her father privately financed her education through contracted tutors, many of them former officers. Within two years she attained the rank of captain and assumed command of a specialized company composed entirely of handpicked veterans and academy rejects deemed too unstable for conventional units. After she assumed command, the Renshi family supplied instructors to refine the company's training and sharpen its experience. Under her leadership, their combat efficiency has consistently surpassed expectations, though their methods remain unorthodox and often brutal.'
Iku dipped his brush once more, bringing the paragraph to a close.
'There is no record of insubordination or deviation from command directives. However, her obedience appears conditioned by the rules of war dictated by the nation. Not once she has deviated from our laws, yet the young captain cares little for tradition. Her behavior patterns suggest an absence of ego or recklessness, qualities rare among officers. She values merit above all else, even above bending, which could be exploited by our enemies to infiltrate the company.'
He stopped, staring at the final line. There was no safe way to phrase that. Calling someone dangerous in a report for the Fire Lord was to invite scrutiny, and scrutiny often led to removal. Yet omitting it entirely would be dishonest. He softened the line; Iku didn't believe it was a flaw at all.
'Her focus on merit alone may prove either a strength or a vulnerability, depending on the intentions of those she commands.'
Satisfied, he blotted the ink dry. The paper rustled softly as he rolled the pages and tied them with a thin cord. Outside the window, the capital lay under the quiet hum of burning fires and the constant sound of fire spitting from Ozai's statue in the middle square.
He placed the report in a black envelope stamped with the Fire Lord's seal. By tomorrow, a courier would deliver it directly to the palace. Yet he knew the report was incomplete. It contained data and lineage, but not the whole picture of the young captain herself.
The question lingering between every line was the same one that haunted him now: What kind of soldier did experiments and tragedy create? Was she stable enough? What about her upbringing? Were her values reinforced by her family? There were rumours that the Fire Lord wanted her to mentor the crown princess. They needed to be certain she wouldn't take advantage of the position.
He dimmed the lamp, letting darkness swallow the room, and decided that tomorrow he would visit the Renshi estate himself. If he could speak to the family's head, perhaps he would see a bigger picture.
----0000----
The Renshi estate stood on the outskirts of Caldera, far enough from the palace for the sea winds to carry the faint smell of salt through its open courtyards. Its iron-framed gates bore the sigil of their lineage, a stylized flame encircling a gear. It was an old symbol, more mechanical than spiritual, befitting for a family whose devotion lay in craft rather than ceremony.
Iku adjusted his uniform and approached with the measured posture of an officer on official business. Two servants led him through a garden of black-stone lanterns and flowering trees to a shaded veranda where Lady Shyno awaited him, Lord Kaien was absent at the time which was unlucky.
She was not what he expected. Her bearing was refined yet distant, regal without flamboyance, graceful without warmth. The years had softened her features but not her composure. A low brazier smoldered nearby, its smoke curling lazily in the air, and a small teapot rested beside it. She rose only slightly as he bowed.
"Lady Shyno." he began, "I appreciate your time. I have been sent by the army's administrative division to verify records concerning your daughter, Captain Lin. Her name has been raised for a commendation and potential promotion. I require more background documentation to complete the formal process in case someone decides to take a closer look."
She inclined her head in calm acknowledgment. "The military seldom concerns itself with the upbringing of soldiers. I imagine this is an exception."
"It is." Iku said. "Her case is unusual, as we have no records before she enlisted. She did not attend the Fire Nation Academy."
"She did not need to." Shyno replied. "Lin was educated at home, privately. The Academy would have been a waste of her time."
She said it with a conviction that bordered on arrogance. Iku sat as she gestured for him to take tea. The porcelain was dark red, etched with lines of gold that caught the morning light. He accepted it politely and waited for her to continue.
"From what age did her training begin?" he asked.
Shyno poured herself a cup before answering. "That is an uncommon first question…"
"Earlier than most, I would say. She showed signs of an unusual degree of focus for someone so young, even before she began speaking. We worried at first that she was mute. The healers said nothing was wrong with her, yet she would not cry, not even as an infant. When she finally spoke, it was as if she had always known how. There was no confusion in her use of terms, no struggle to form words. She suddenly began speaking in complete phrases at age two."
Her voice carried the memory with no sentiment attached. Iku found it oddly disquieting, the way she spoke of her child as though recalling an object rather than a person growing. Although that was not necessarily uncommon in nobility.
"She showed early signs of being a prodigy." Shyno continued. "Too clever for her own good. We had to begin her education early to keep her occupied.Her lessons included reading, numbers, tactics, metallurgy and bending. Her father taught her the principles of firebending before she could even pronounce his name properly the year after."
"At three years old?!" Iku asked, unable to conceal his surprise.
"Yes." Shyno said simply. "It came naturally to her. The flame bent to her hand with a control so precise we believed she would be our greatest achievement right there. We chose not to report it to the royal registrars, we knew she would be recorded as the youngest firebender ever if we did. But the Renshi family has never relied on royal favor to earn its standing. Our honor comes from our own merit. We thought she would, with time, demonstrate her gift to the world."
Iku noted that line carefully in his mind. A family that didn't enjoy nepotism was rare, but surprisingly not for the Renshi household. "And her brother?" he asked. "Raizo. There are records of his service, but nothing beyond that. We have records of an accident but not the details."
He already knew about what happened obviously but he wanted to assess the family's reaction.
Shyno's eyes lowered briefly, a faint shadow crossing her expression. "They trained together. He was nine years her senior and already proficient in advanced techniques. Their father encouraged experimentation with their talents. Raizo discovered what the scholars now call combustion bending. It was reckless, but genius often is. The result was catastrophic."
She paused only to refill his cup before continuing. "Both were gravely injured. Raizo lost part of his arm and leg. Lin lost almost everything else. Her lungs, her limbs, her spine, were all damaged. The healers saved her life but told us she would not live long. They were luckily wrong."
Her tone did not waver, and Iku could not decide whether it was strength or denial that steadied it.
"For a time, my husband was devastated to have lost such a prodigious daughter, and our dreams of seeing her wield her full power as a weapon that would help win the war were shattered. Against all odds, they are at full strength now."
"And how did she recover?" he asked.
"Through her sheer will and the brilliant minds of our allies." Shyno replied. "A connection within the War Ministry introduced us to a specialist, an artificer who, with the help of our best engineers, developed a means of sustaining her body by channeling chi as energy flow through mechanical conduits. It was experimental and at first quite dangerous. The process was costly, painful, and imperfect. But it worked. A Fire Sage had to teach her how to keep herself alive."
"The spirits granted a miracle..." answered Iku.
"Quite."
"Does she resent what happened to her?" he asked quietly.
"No. At first we were worried that she would grow distant, or give up. But she never did. She doesn't even hold a grudge against her brother." Iku was surprised to hear that but didn't say anything, letting her continue.
"She endured it, only complaining when she felt too much pain." Shyno said. "Once she could stand again, she was back to training with her new circumstance. At first her progress was slow, and much of her previous progress had to be relearned. Her movements were heavy and her balance unstable. But she learned how to adjust quite quickly. Over time her strength exceeded even her brother's. Her mind never lost her sharpness and her strategic mind found ways to exceed our expectations, time and time again."
There was something almost reverent in her tone, though so different from how he was raised. There seemed to be no love for her daughter in her eyes, just greed and admiration. Iku realized this family revered achievement as others revered faith. It explained much about Lin's reputation, and he felt a bit sorry for her upbringing.
"And her education?" he asked, keeping his voice steady.
"I oversaw it myself. We hired tutors in mathematics, history, engineering and strategy. She finished their entire curriculum by fourteen. I have every exam, every progress record, all stored in a ledger. You may take copies for the army's archive."
Iku nodded gratefully. "That is helpful, thank you. When she enlisted it was mentioned that she would have a few medical operations that might take her off the fields in the future, which have already been scheduled ahead of time."
"Yes." Shyno said. "As she grows, the prosthetics must be adjusted, otherwise her body could be crushed or deformed. The machinery needs cleaning and new plating, some parts need to be replaced, like the cooling channels. The process will continue until her body stops growing and then it would just be maintenance, nothing more."
Her phrasing carried an unnerving calmness, as if nothing could go wrong, but those procedures sounded risky and painful to him. Iku thought Lin had it quite rough, but he could also see how she ended up being that reserved, cold and detached individual.
Her family was clearly aloof to how bad Lin had it, and the only tragedy they saw was that her progress was hindered. When Lady Shyno spoke of her daughter, she described a weapon more than a loved one, prideful of her achievements yes, though not because they were her own, rather how they served the family as a whole.
"She has always performed with conviction and determination and she will serve the Fire Nation with the will of a dragon. We are very proud of what we have achieved, given the circumstances."
"I see…" he said after a long silence. "The Fire Nation owes your family much. I will ensure these records are properly documented."
Shyno inclined her head. "Agni himself surely watches her grow into a weapon of righteousness and strength for the Fire Nation."
He rose, thanked her, and left the veranda. He concluded that the Renshi family was very devoted to the nation. His report now was complete.
----0000----
The camp was quiet for the first time in weeks. Smoke still curled from the charred remains of barricades at the village perimeter, thin and gray against the pale morning sky. The smell of ash mixed with the faint sweetness of pine from the nearby forest.
Lin stood at the edge of the newly raised outpost, watching her soldiers dismantle what was left of the enemy fortifications and replace them with Fire Nation banners.
Two weeks of fighting had stripped the land of sound, leaving only the quiet rhythm of shovels and muted voices. The surviving citizens were compliant for now. Her company had performed well. The resistance had been fierce but scattered, and every objective had been taken according to plan.
Now the engineers were laying foundations for supply storage, and a few of the younger soldiers were daring to laugh again, believing this place secure. Lin did not share their ease, but mainly because she knew they would have to move out soon enough to attack Omashu, a city that had never fallen, even after decades of war.
Another problem was that winter was approaching. She could already feel it in the dryness of the wind and the stiffness of her prosthetics when the temperature dropped at night. In a month, the terrain would harden, the rivers would freeze, and movement across the region would slow.
High Command's plan was to use the season to fortify their position, stockpile coal, and wait for the thaw before launching the assault on Omashu. Three additional companies were expected to join by spring, forming a full battalion under Colonel Xin's command.
Lin had read the reports about him: an officer with a clean record, disciplined, and admired across battalions and among his comrades. His arrival would bring stability and structure to their growing force.
She was ready to serve under him and learn from him if needed. But it seemed that preparation was going to mean nothing in the end. That morning, two fire hawks descended over the camp, their shadows sweeping across the training field before landing on the wooden perch outside her tent.
The first hawk carried her family's seal, along with a brief message.
The Crown Prince has been banished. The political climate is unstable, remain vigilant. There might be moves that might hinder your career, do not anger ANYONE that might have a chance to slow your ascension.
She reread it twice before lowering the paper. The words felt unreal, and they were shocking news indeed. The Crown Prince was thirteen. Exile at that age was a death sentence without guidance or supplies.
For a brief moment, the memory of a different childhood surfaced in her mind. One filled with long nights and neglect, where hunger had been a constant companion and solitude had been the regular coin she had to trade with. She pushed it aside, focusing on the here and now, that life was a distant memory after all, there was no way to return to that life.
The second bird's message tube bore the black seal of the Fire Lord. Lin untied it carefully, unrolled the parchment, and read in silence.
Her new orders were entirely unexpected.
Captain Lin is to report to Caldera immediately. She is being reassigned from field command to the Royal Household as a personal instructor to Royal Crown Princess Azula in combat and strategic studies. It's advised to assign a temporary captain to replace her position.
The Fire Lord's awareness of her existence was, on itself, concerning. Her service had been efficient, yes, but brief. She wondered what she had done to merit such a spotlight.
For Ozai to pull her from the front lines suggested that he was getting reports on her specifically, to the point of deeming her capable of teaching the now Royal Crown Princess. It could also be a move to stop her from ascending the command ladder, but this early? She was only a captain yet, it made no sense.
She believed her company would do well either way, they had been trained relentlessly and cohesion and efficiency were as high as their morale after securing the village. The casualties had been minimal and they didn't need constant nagging to keep training or being prepared to move out.
She folded the parchment and sealed it in her satchel. The hawk tilted its head, waiting for her next order.
"Return." she said softly, attaching her acknowledgment. The bird took flight, wings glinting in the sun as it disappeared toward the north.
Lin stood for a while in silence, her eyes following the horizon where it met the sea. She did not fear reassignment; orders were orders, and obedience was her strength. Yet there was unease regarding the motives behind her reassignment.
Teaching the princess meant proximity to the Royal family, and proximity to them meant politics, something she wanted to avoid. Luckily, Lin's father would likely bear the heavier share of that burden as others would surely try to align themselves close to someone with proximity with the Royal family. Bureaucracy and manipulation were annoying to handle.
A lieutenant approached, saluting crisply. "Captain, shall we begin the midday drills?"
"Proceed without me." she said. "I have to prepare travel orders."
The lieutenant nodded and left. Lin turned back to her tent, the sound of distant training echoing faintly through the clearing. She gathered her armor and journals, recording the final entries of the campaign. Every plan, casualty and unit adjustment was documented in neat, precise handwriting. It was a routine that she carried over from her last life.
When the sun began to lower, she stepped outside once more. Her soldiers had begun to relax after training the whole day. She watched them with the quiet satisfaction of a commander whose duty was complete. Tomorrow, she would leave them in the care of others and sail back to the capital.
The thought of the prince still lingered. She tried not to dwell on it, yet she could not help but imagine a boy cast out alone. It was not pity that stirred within her, just recognition of that which she had lived herself, the feeling of being cast aside yet expected to survive.
Night settled over the camp. The fires burned low, the stars faint against the smoke-filled sky. Lin returned to her quarters, sat in silence for a long while.
"It seems no matter which world or circumstance you are in, every parent sucks."
----0000----
By sunrise, the outpost was already in motion. Crates were stacked along the road leading to the pier, and soldiers moved with the steady rhythm of routine, their breath visible in the cold air. Lin walked the camp's perimeter one last time, inspecting the defenses and the supply lines before departing.
Colonel Mongke approached her this time, without his rhino. "Captain."
"Colonel. It was an honour."
"I'm sure it was. I have to thank you, once more. I was going to head north when I was defeated the first time, but it seems you also have the north conquering to thank for. I will be supporting your unit until a better opportunity presents itself."
"I leave them in your care then, Colonel." she said with a small bow.
"Safe travels, Captain."
She watched him go at a steady pace back to the village, turned now into a Fire Nation stronghold, and had gone from ruin to order in less than a fortnight. At the small harbor they had built on the base of the cliff, Lieutenant Zhou waited beside her transport frigate, a smaller vessel bearing the Fire Lord's crest.
The wind carried the faint smell of metal and salt from the docks as dockworkers secured the ship. Lin handed him a sealed folder bearing her insignia.
"The command structure remains unchanged, you are my second in command, Lieutenant." she said. "Coordinate with the other companies if Colonel Xin arrives before my return. You have full authority to act if new orders come from high command."
Zhou accepted the documents, bowing slightly. "Understood, Captain. I'll see to it personally."
"You'll do well, I trust in you." she replied. "Keep the men focused through the winter."
He hesitated, then asked quietly, "Do you know why you were recalled?"
"I'm to be an instructor." Lin said. "Only that I am to serve the Royal Household."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then nodded. "It's a great honour. Good luck, Captain." he said, stepping back as she boarded.
She had arranged everything before departure; records updated, supplies counted and contingency plans had been handed out to her officers. The company would not falter without her, but it never hurt to be prepared.
The deckhands raised the ramp, and the ship began to drift from the dock with a low groan of timber. Lieutenant Zhou was still saluting her by the time the shoreline shrunk until the cliffside village became nothing more than a cluster of red banners flickering against the pale coast.
Inside her cabin, the hum of the lower engines blended with the creak of the waves. She unfastened her armor piece by piece, stacking it carefully beside her trunk. The journey to the mainland would take several days, long enough to review her father's reply when it arrived.
She had sent him a message through fire hawk the previous evening, requesting information on the royal family, especially Princess Azula. If she was to instruct her, she wanted sufficient details to anticipate potential issues that may arise.
The ship lurched slightly as it caught the current, and she steadied herself against the table. She disliked sea travel; the rolling motion disrupted her balance and forced her to regularly clean her prosthetics since salt water was highly corrosive. The only positive was that the sound was soothing.
She sat by the small window, the sea stretching endlessly, gray and vast beyond the glass. She missed planes, only traveling for a few hours at a time without wasting days at sea. Lin had considered dedicating her mind to developing new technologies, but she lacked the knowledge to understand how such technologies worked.
She hoped that technology wouldn't take decades to emerge in this world. Lin rested her hands over the cool metal of her knees and exhaled slowly.