Behind the Flames .:H2OVanoss:.

.:Chapter 9:.

          Jonathan's hands trembled. He knew not if it were from fear, adrenaline, or the quickly chilling air. His tunic was drenched, suctioned to his skin, pooling off the edges with a never-ending stream of fresh water. Tyler slowly rose to his feet behind him, still urging Jon to not interfere.
          "I'm fine! I can handle it without someone getting in the way!" He persisted, placing a cold hand over his stomach in attempt to soothe the scarlet burn.
          "I'll believe that when you aren't trying to keep blood from spilling out of your gut." Jonathan hissed. His gaze never left the enemy's in the helmet as his opponent's amber orbs stared back at him, unreadable.
Then he snapped out of his trance, whipping his hands fiercely towards the two, sending blast after blast of bright, scorching energy. Jonathan fluently dragged his arms around him, guiding the swift water to block any close encounter. As the attacks continued, Jonathan took the battle a few feet away from Tyler by stepping back into the deeper part of the creek.
The enemy began to advance, tossing flames with greater vigor and speed, taking wide steps after each throw. Soon enough, Jon had to throw an arm upwards to block a fist from above. The other man's body pushed forcefully against his own, but Jonathan managed to hold his ground Despite his shaky limbs.
He felt the man's other arm come down and jab him painfully in the side. Jonathan retaliated by kicking him hard in the calf, offsetting his balance. The adversary grunted, but didn't move away. Next, Jon had only a moment to decide if he was going to block the fiery fist from the left, or the metal knee from below. He braced himself for the knee. Another kick to the stomach, another blocked punch in front of his face. Soon enough, Jonathan lost all of his conscious thoughts. He just went with his instinct and allowed his body to do what it pleased. Dodging, avoiding, running, unable to get the upper hand of attack.
Until all of a sudden, an unforeseen explosion of heat and stones had both men in a new defensive mode. In sync, they shielded their eyes from the flying debris with legs bent in order to push against the oncoming wave of smoke. As it cleared, bodies of the soldiers, birds, lizards, and unfortunately, a few of their own, were littered around, never to move again.
"Captain! We need reinforceme-" a fire nation soldier's cry was crushed into silence as a large stone smashed his head. The captain jolted his gaze in the direction of his soldiers and snarled a curse when his last three men raised their arms in defeat, surrounded by seven rebels.
While he looked away, Jon took the opportunity to thrust a wave of water over the captain's feet and up to his knees, freezing him into the ground. The captain immediately alit his hands and aimed for the ice beneath him, but Jonathan was quicker to react. He sloshed another wave over his hands, smoldering the flames. Another flick of his arm and another wave froze his hands, slowly bringing him to the ground.
The man continued to struggle aggressively. He yanked hard, cracking the ice, but failed to escape again when another wave was frozen up his thighs and over his back. His upper torso thrashed for a moment, but slowly and angrily, he lifted his head to glare furiously at him.
Jonathan heard a low growl as someone approached from behind. Tyler limped up to the captain and grabbed the top of his helmet.
He began to squeeze abnormally tight, nearly bending the metal, and proceeded to whisper dangerously, "I hope you know that by the end of the day, Hell's fire will be the only fire you ever come in contact with again."
He could have sworn the man actually chuckled at Tyler's threat. The man lifted his armored head, connecting the devilish gaze with his enemy's.
"Who am I to deny a man of such a magnificent experience? I'll be glad to escort you down there myself." The man hissed with an unseen grin. Everything that could have gone wrong happened in less than a second- the captain obliterated the ice surrounding his hands, detonating it into shards and rocketing them in all directions. He then raised his red, steaming arms and slammed his fists into the ground, blowing fire from his feet and launching them from the ice. For a moment he stood in a handstand, then came back down with power so great, it knocked both opposing men back by an invisible heat wave.
Jonathan landed painfully on the stones of the shore. He clenched his teeth as pain rippled through his chest and stomach. Propping an arm carefully under him, he turned his body onto its side and watched horrifically as the captain, steaming with boiling water and almost glowing red from the heat, approached Tyler as he lay a good ten feet from him.
"T-Tyler! Get up!" Jonathan cried. He watched his friend shift while emitting a stressed groan. He barely managed to sit up when the captain slammed his foot into Tyler's shoulder. The earth bender rolled away, landing on his stomach halfway into the creek and remaining still as a stone.
"Leave him alone!" A familiar feeling of helplessness rushed into him. A flashback of years ago, one he had pressured himself to forget, flooded his mind as quick as he inhaled. Fire and lightning flashed in the darkness as he blinked.
The man with the bird helmet glanced back at Jon, chuckled again, then kicked Tyler right in the face, as if he were taunting him. Jonathan was struggling to find balance on his weak knees, but could only watch pathetically as the man raised his blazing fist, aiming the death blow, finally ready to destroy his leader in a whirlpool of fire.
"TYLER!"
          "Get away from him!" Movement in the trees quickly caught the captain's attention. Riding atop their exhausted birds was a conjoined team of rebels; Brock and Marcel in the lead with ammo of stones and fiery fists.
          The Captain looked up with surprise, failing to react quick enough. The first bird flew past him, giving Brock the chance to club the man in the jaw with an earth-covered palm. He stumbled back, precisely aiming his hands to catch himself before impact with the ground. His body was impressively flexible- which he proved by sliding into a painful looking back bend, and kicked his feet into the air to flip himself away. How he managed to do this in armor, Jon could not fathom it.
          Next, Marcel approached rapidly. He leapt off his large fowl and attacked with many heated punches. The captain dodged them as if it were no problem, until he saw his chance and shouldered Marcel away with brutal force. He slid across the muddy bank while remaining on his feet, ready to charge again. As all was occurring, Jonathan acknowledged David as he approached at his side.
          The enemy raised his fists again, only this time he finally came to realization of the circumstances. Surrounded by Brock, Marcel, Jonathan, David, and Tyler, he kept his fighting stance and glared menacingly at each of them.
          "Give up! You are obviously outnumbered, and your force is completely wiped out!" Tyler threatened. The enemy's gaze shifted cautiously. No other part of his body moved, making it appear as if he were a stone himself. "I won't tell you again," Tyler's voice lowered into his well known 'danger tone'. "Give up, you lost."
          The man flicked his eyes in all directions as he searched for another way to turn the tables. He was unsuccessful, and proved it by lowering his hands. He kept his head high and fists clenched in damaged pride.
          "Finally." Tyler nodded at Brock, who nodded back and approached the captain. The two leaders kept the dreadful eye contact for as long as what seemed like eternity. "Maybe I'll send your head back to the Fire Lord on a spike. Of course, the old bastard doesn't give a shit about anyone, so he'll probably just dump it without a second glance."
          "The fate of one recognized and thrown aside at the hand of a King is far greater than that of a peasant by mere weakness." The captain narrowed his eyes.
          Tyler laughed, "I'm glad. I'll feel even better killing you and leaving your corpse to be eaten by crows." The dark words left Tyler's mouth like a plague, in which the captain just chuckled.
          "I look forward to the day the Fire Lord reigns hell on your miserable homeland."
          "The only thing he's 'lord' of are those gullible and conceited enough to follow his selfish laws. You all will suffer far greater than you think the day he dies at our hands." He spat on his foot and turned away, fuming.
          Jonathan watched him leave, pushing past Brock as he did, pausing only to answer Brock's whispering question. "Tyler, we can't kill him yet. We need as much information as we can get about-"
           "Don't get you're balls in a twist. I don't plan on killing him yet," He furrowed his brows and sneered. "-but I'm not afraid to get pretty damn close."
           Brock sighed as Tyler quickly fled the scene. He approached the captain and took the man's hands, pulling them harshly behind his back. After restraining them in his own, Brock slapped his foot into the ground, collecting a large stone in his grasp and morphing it into a strong bond to clasp the soldier's wrists together.
          At the last moment, something else caught Jonathan's eye. Steam was still rising from the captive's fingers, and upon closer inspection, a small light glowing in between his palms. Jonathan immediately knew that was going to happen.
          He sprang forward as Brock let go with one hand to grab the floating cuffs. As he did so, the man tore his arms away, kneeling down and twisting his body to uppercut Brock with a stream of russet flames.
          "LOOK OUT!" Jonathan arrived in the nick of time, sloshing a wave over the man's hands and swinging a speedy kick right into the side of the fire bender's head. A loud CLANG silenced everyone, only the sound of the helmet bouncing away cutting said silence. It rolled into the creek and began to drift in the gentle currents.
          "Are you ok, Brock?" Jonathan reached out to his traumatized friend. He nodded, awestruck, with nothing to be said.
          Marcel mumbled something behind him. Jonathan twisted around to see him take an uneasy step back, shivering like a leaf in a thunderstorm. "You have got to be fucking kidding me..."
          "Marcel, are you-?" His voice cut short as his eyes trailed right onto the captain. Again, his mind forced unwanted memories on him. He knew that spiky, pure black hair. He knew that darker, tanned skin. He knew those lively, determined amber-brown eyes. He knew.. him. He knew him. His mind wouldn't believe it, but his heart screamed out with recognition.