《Folktales and Fables: A Collection of Short Side Stories》
Children of Fire
Azula goes from the deep sleep of strange dreams to full wakefulness in a disorienting instant. While firebenders are meant to rise with the sun, usually it is a gentle easing process as Agni''s call from the east grows gradually stronger. That is not the case today. Instead, the Sun Spirit is suddenly everywhere and calling with greater insistence than is typical even during a clear noonday sky.
It takes another moment for Azula to register the continuous roar of fire in the halls. Have invaders and traitors already come to attack them?
The girl hurries from her bed. She takes the time to quickly slip on shoes and clumsily tie her hair back. She will not fail in her mission to something as foolish as foot injury or untamed hair.
Father had been clear that she was to be Zuko''s last defense, should the guards fail, because Dum-Dum couldn''t be expected to successfully protect himself. If the attack just started -- and she can only hope it has not been going on for long while she slept -- then her brother should still be in his suite. Unfortunately, that means he is across a hall full of an unknown number of assailants and combative firebending from her current location.
Azula stands off to the side of her suite''s door, one hand holding a fistful of primed flames and the other preparing to throw open the final barrier separating her from the ongoing battle.
Her plan is simple and adaptable: cross the hall of assailants, collect her incompetent older brother, and reach the secret passage entrance at the end of the corridor with her charge in tow. From there, she and Zuko should be able to sneak up to the hall connected to Father''s rooms. Hopefully, no traitors have succeeded in breaching the second floor yet. If they have, she will instead have to guide Zuzu all the way through the palace''s secret passage network to an escape exit leading out into the southeastern section of Caldera. Getting to the guest rooms and Uncle Fuddy-Duddy would be easier than fleeing the palace entirely, but she can''t be sure that he isn''t the one who arranged this attack in the first place. She refuses to fail her mission from Father by trusting in an uncle with untried loyalties.
Azula takes a deep breath to prepare her initial attack, opens the door, and --
There are no assailants or traitors in the hall. Instead, a torrent of fire -- white, like Father''s -- streams past, rushing through the corridor and radiating Agni''s call so strongly she would have to be a nonbender to miss it.
The fire in her hand dissipates in her shock and she finds herself walking forward, drawn to the call like a hapless butter-moth.
One of her guards is folded in a full kowtow, mumbling old prayers under his breath. The other stares with disbelieving eyes at the white flames from his knees. Neither attempt to halt her approach.
Azula stops an arm''s length away from the torrent of flames and humbles herself before the nation''s patron deity in a perfect kowtow. The spirits have been distant for generations before her birth. She never expected to meet directly with the source of her firebending. Still, she is not so stubborn that she cannot acknowledge who and what is before her now. "Agni, Father of Fire and King of Flames," she addresses the spirit formally, "I am here."
A low chuckle, warm like the sunrise that slowly banishes the chill of the night, startles her. She had not heard that with her ears. The thunderous roar of the flames would have masked such a soft sound if she had. "Princess Azula of Second Fire," answers a voice that is not a voice, "I am pleased to see you well but there are matters that I must attend to now. We will speak another time. Do not fear the flames. They will not harm you." And then the voice is gone, slipping from her mind like so many unimportant thoughts.
Azula blinks and looks up at the flames continuing to flow past her. Some spirits are known to be tricksters, misleading fools through cleverly twisted words rather than lies, but Agni would not have been revered and worshipped by her ancestors if he were to regularly lead them astray. The princess pushes herself back to her feet.
A quick test confirms that she cannot alter the course of the flames rushing past. Not that she had ever expected that she would be able to pull fire away from the greatest of the fire spirits and the King of Flames. Still, Agni had promised they would not harm her...
Azula squares her shoulders, takes a breath, and gingerly dips a single finger of her off hand into the white flames.
One of the guards behind her makes a choked sound.
Hm. It is quite hot, but not enough to hurt.
The young princess withdraws her hand and examines it for any injuries or blemishes caused by the flames. She finds none.
Azula considers the situation she finds herself in, standing before a work of Agni with the Sun Spirit''s promise of protection from his fierce fire. She may never have another opportunity of its like in her life.
The girl steps into the flames and offers her own fire to Agni.
Zuko wakes with a gasp, panting hard. Trembling fingertips trace over unblemished skin but the visions of his nightmare continue to play out in his mind''s eye and an unfinished sentence taunts him with its possible conclusion.
But it was only a dream.
...Wasn''t it?
A quick, half-panicked glance around his room reveals no strange, green turtle-ducks with eye-faces.
He is alone.
"Princess!" someone yells from out in the hall.
Zuko springs out of bed and runs for the door, only now recognizing the crackling roar he hears as something more than a lingering shadow of his nightmare. He stumbles back when he discovers the living river of fire that has consumed the length of the corridor. White flames twist together as they rush past, and there, caught up in the center of the current is --
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"Azula!" he calls, fear like a vice in his chest.
Azula stills and glances back at him with a frown. The fire is clearly not her own bending, and yet it moves around her as harmlessly as ocean waves on a calm day, the flames lapping over and around her with not a burn to show for their touch. "Dum-Dum, I''m trying to concentrate," the girl says.
"But --"
Azula huffs, blowing short hair out of her face from where it has slipped free of her odd, messy ponytail. "Come along if you''re worried, but don''t distract me."
Zuko looks at the white flames. Father is nowhere to be seen and these flames move with an unnatural amount of control beyond even the masters'' skill, but Azula stands unfazed and unharmed at their center. Maybe...
His wrist is caught in a steel grasp before his shaking hand can reach into the white fire.
"Prince Zuko," one of his room''s regular guards -- He thinks her name might be Yuri? -- says tersely with stress-pinched features, "Never touch a flame you fear. And especially not if they are generated by a spirit as these are. Spirits can be unpredictable. Their works can pass harmlessly over one mortal only to strike down the next." Having given her warning, she releases her grip on his wrist.
Azula scoffs. "What sort of firebender fears Agni?" she asks with a sneer, but then she stops as a thought comes to her. His sister smiles, sharp and vicious, as she taunts, "Well, I suppose Agni did only promise that his fire wouldn''t harm me. He didn''t say anything about you, Zuzu."
"Agni?" Zuko questions in disbelief, "You spoke to Agni, too? Like Father did?"
His little sister rolls her eyes and gestures to the white flames surrounding her. At his blank stare, she sighs. "What time is it, Dum-Dum?" she asks.
"What does that --"
"Zuko," she says, "check the time."
The prince frowns and... and that''s strange. His sun-sense is pulling in what feels like every direction but it is particularly strong right in front of him and -- "Oh."
"Yes, ''oh,''" Azula mocks before dismissing him, "Join me or don''t. I''m going back to practice."
Azula turns around and begins to bend, moving in the same direction as the rushing flames around her. Splashes of blue are quickly whisked away by the greater fire''s current, brightening until they too become white, indistinguishable from the rest of the twisting flames.
Zuko frowns. Agni has spoken to Father, and now to Azula, but he''s never spoken with the great spirit. He''s the heir! Shouldn''t Agni have come to meet him before Azula? Does this mean that Agni prefers Azula, like Father does?
His hands shake. He wants to join Azula in Agni''s fire, but he''s afraid. Visions of Father''s fire turned against him continue to crowd his mind and he can still hear his own scream as he watched himself burn and...
And what Fire Lord can afford to fear fire? Zuko curls trembling fingers into fists. He follows Azula down the hall, just... walking to the side of Agni''s flames. It''s what he can do. For now. One day he''ll figure out how to catch up to his prodigy sister. One day, but probably not today, so he''ll watch instead and see if he can learn what it is he''s doing wrong.
Azula moves through a simple kata again, and again, and again in a loop. It''s one of the very first katas taught to firebenders that actively uses flames rather than being limited to movements and breath control. Zuko isn''t sure when it starts, but slowly Azula''s movements go from the sharp chopping motions of standard Sozin''s Form firebending to something more fluid that ends in quick snaps and blooms of blue flame. It almost looks like...
"Are you dancing?" Zuko blurts the question out before he can think better of it.
Azula freezes in place before whirling on him with a clearly insulted expression. "It''s not dancing," she denies, "I''m training with Agni to perfect the blue flame! These movements are proving to be more efficient in the flow of chi and thus producing a more consistent result."
Zuko crosses his arms even as he feels an embarrassed flush steal up his neck. "It looks like dancing," he grumbles.
"Well, it''s not," Azula asserts with a huff, "If you can''t tell the difference between firebending and dancing, then it''s no wonder you''re terrible at both."
"Hey!"
Azula ignores him and returns to her training. Zuko trails after her.
Her first few moves are stiff with the lingering indignation -- It''s not embarrassment! -- from her ignorant brother''s accusation of dancing. This, her current training pursuit, is clearly a firebending style that she is either inventing or perhaps rediscovering through Agni''s guidance. She''d scoff if she wasn''t focussing on her bending. ''Dancing.'' Really, Dum-Dum?
She settles back into her previous rhythm and pace, the smoother build followed by a sharp, precise stop that allows her fire to continue beyond her limbs as it carries through the motion for her body.
...This style of firebending might, just a little bit, resemble some of the old dances she and Zuko had been forced to learn for the increasingly uncommon political events that still demand such frivolities. And Agni behaves perhaps a small amount like a dance partner might. The white flames are too touchy but they are not restrictive, and no matter how she moves the flames shift to ensure her head remains free to the open air. It''s very considerate of a fire spirit to keep his flames from smothering her.
...Fine. Fine! If it will banish Zuko''s stupid idea from her head, she''ll try ''dancing'' with Agni.
Azula abandons her kata and focusses on one of the twisting, twining ropes of fire that make up the rushing river of flames surrounding her. A false start, two, as she fails to anticipate how the fire will shift and change course in response to her own movements, and then...
It works! Oh, there is an irritating stumble here and there as she is forced to improvise her footwork, but she has always learned quickly and she can tell there is a pattern just beyond her. She only needs to tease it out of the movements she is already being guided through with Agni as her example.
Azula exits Agni''s flames in her mother''s favored garden, the white fire spiralling upward toward a small sun being built in the sky directly over the palace. She''d giggle wildly if firebending didn''t require strong breath control. She dances through her new kata past trees and the turtle-duck pond, blue flaring to life past her fingertips even outside of Agni''s direct touch. Her chi flows easily through her body''s chi lines and then beyond them, unhindered to a degree she never realized was possible before. It''s exhilarating!
Azula is halfway through a lap around the garden when she spots Zuko standing near the skyward bend of Agni''s fire. She''d grin if she weren''t already doing so.
The princess bursts through the white flames and pushes her brother down onto the grass.
"Azula!"
She ignores the objection and flops on top of him, too giddy to care about the impropriety of the act.
"Oof!" Zuko pushes himself onto his elbows but can''t right himself any further with a younger sister sprawled across his belly. He glares at her, but she ignores that as she kicks her feet through the air and summons another cobalt flame into her cupped hands. Now that she has achieved consistency, the next step will be to refine her precision. How small and controlled can she keep a blue flame? "Azula, what are you --"
"I did it, Zuzu!" she interrupts, "The first in generations to master the blue flame! And the youngest ever recorded!"
"Yeah," Zuko sighs, falling back, "Guess so."
"Don''t stare at Agni''s new sun, Dum-Dum," she cautions absently, working to compact the flame in her hands smaller and finer, "You''ll burn your eyes."
Zuko stiffens for a moment, but then he groans and throws an arm over his eyes to protect them from the pre-dawn sun being built overhead. That''s better.
There''s a few breaths spent continuing her work as Zuko pouts under her, and then...
"You did well, Azula," her brother admits, still hiding behind his arm and pinned down by her weight, "Father will be proud." Quieter, he adds, "I am."
"I''m aware," she says, feeling quite pleased with herself.
If she feels a flutter of warmth at the soft-spoken but open appreciation and approval of her skills from her older brother, well, Zuzu doesn''t need to know that.
Lotus Petals, Part One
Piandao skims over the transcribed letter from Blooming Lotus Iroh a third time. Copies will have been made and disseminated at some point between Iroh''s sending of the report and this version making its way into his possession. Considering the usual circuitous routes reports make through the White Lotus'' network, and the origin point of this missive being Caldera, the sword master estimates that the last of his fellow Grand Lotuses -- likely Pakku, isolated from the rest of the world behind the Northern Water Tribe''s great wall -- will receive word in three days'' time.
The contents of the report itself are fantastical, but they line up disconcertingly well with the latest rumors and decrees from the capital. Even as far removed as Shu Jing is, they have heard the rumblings of change from Caldera. What''s more, Iroh''s report contains many theories and notes of his research into the Fire Lord''s new status as Agni''s Herald, which means he had chosen to wait and watch the situation before informing the Lotus. Iroh''s position as a high ranking official living within the Fire Lord''s palace is as valuable as it is risky. It could be that the man had judged it best not to send out a report with limited and possibly inaccurate information. Sending the Lotus reports too regularly would be a sure way to attract unwanted attention and could lead to dire consequences for them all. Waiting to confirm what he had witnessed -- along with any other facts surrounding events that he may have initially missed -- would have been a reasonable decision. And yet...
It is difficult to tell through a single letter, but Iroh seems to be tentatively hopeful about the sudden and drastic changes in Fire Lord Ozai. Is it the hope of a clear-eyed man seeking a path to usher in peace for a war-torn world, or is it the hope of a grieving man clinging to the tattered remains of his family?
Piandao sets the report down and glances across his desk at the missive that had arrived yesterday, for all that it had been sent from Caldera more recently. Perhaps he should reconsider the sender''s request and travel to the capital, after all. The offer is certainly intriguing on its own, as is the added mystery of ''other matters to discuss in person, at your desire as a master swordsmith and swordsman,'' and he is the only Grand Lotus in a position to verify any part of Blooming Lotus Iroh''s claims.
Beyond that, he had been the one to second Blooming Lotus Akira''s proposal to induct Iroh fully into the order and he knows the man best out of the current Grand Lotuses. As a result, Iroh is in some ways his responsibility.
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Decision made, Piandao reaches for a fresh scroll to begin drafting his response to Fire Lord Ozai.
Bumi is surprised. Even more irregular an occurrence, he is not tickled by the increasingly rare feeling of an unexpected discovery. The mad king scowls down at the unrolled parchment spilling over his desk. He has read and reread the report five times now. As intriguing as the main report is with its talk of long dormant spirit gods and reforged heralds, it is the seemingly unrelated addendum at the end meant solely for his own copy of Blooming Lotus Iroh''s letter that has him perplexed.
It would not shock him if, after the genocide, the Fire Nation had taken the Air Nomad birth and trainging records to aid in their hunt of the survivors. It would not leave him filled with disbelief if some over-ambitious child of fire had been able to uncover the connections he used to have with a few different airbenders, though his friendship with Aang had undoubtedly been the strongest.
If that were all there was to it, he''d cackle and dismiss this as the century-gone nonsense that it should be. Maybe he''d find some way to tweak the nose of whoever had thought themselves so clever as to set Iroh chasing ghosts. The entire addendum is a single sentence long and, oddly enough, it contains no mention of the lost civilization, only a matching pair of names that he has not heard in almost a hundred years. And that is the detail that gets to him, because...
"How in the iron mine did they learn Appa''s name?" Bumi asks the empty room as he scratches at his patchy hair.
Jeong Jeong forces himself not to burn the letter as he crushes it in one clenched fist. Wrinkles and creases can be smoothed away when he has regained control of his flaring temper. Fire''s effects tend to be more permanent.
What new game is the Fire Lord playing? Is the previous crown prince being pulled in by Ozai''s machinations? Or does the Dragon of the West dance willingly to the tune of the Fire Lord? Was it a mistake to trust the man and bring him into the Order of the White Lotus? Will it be their downfall?
There are too many unanswered questions, too many unknowns he has not yet thought to question. Of one thing he is certain. It is fire''s nature to consume all that is in its path.
All Fire Lords inevitably fall to the seduction of power and flame, leaving everything within their reach scorched. It is a matter of ''when,'' not ''if.'' And they already have two years of proof that Fire Lord Ozai follows closely in his father''s footsteps, much as Azulon had followed after his father before him. This call for peace is nothing more than a sham. There is a trap somewhere. If they do not discover what it is in time, they will all be as so much kindling for the fire.
Lotus Petals, Part Two
Pakku frowns down at the letter he has just finished reading. Specifically, he frowns at the date in the corner. If Blooming Lotus Iroh has accurately described events, and if Pakku himself has correctly calculated the time difference between Agna Qel''a and the Fire Nation capital, then the Fire Lord''s initial encounter with Agni matches the same time frame as the princess''s plunge into the city''s canal system.
The waterbending master had not been there to witness the accident himself, but apparently the girl had taken a particularly unfortunate misstep when crossing from the ice sidewalks of the city to the awaiting canoe and instead slipped through the space between them. Nearby benders had rushed to rescue the princess, of course, but the canal''s water had fought them, refusing to respond to the push and pull of the men''s chi. When that failed, one brave soul had attempted to jump in after the drowning girl. That attempt ended with a shattered ankle as the warrior in question landed on an unexpected and very thick shelf of ice that had quickly grown to cover a third of the entire canal system. The iced-over canals Pakku had seen first-hand, but he had not known of their full significance at the time.
All told, the princess spent almost two minutes under the ice. No one was expecting to see the girl alive again when the ice melted as quickly as it had formed and the princess resurfaced, perched upon a tiny iceberg carved out of the canal''s floor. And while a child of the moon''s pale radiance had fallen beneath the waters, a girl dark as the ocean''s depths had been returned to them.
From what he has been told, Princess Yue''s first words upon her return from the freezing waters were, "I met La. She said she would give me words." And then the girl had fainted and slept through most of the evening following her unplanned dip in the canal. Even now, Yagoda is closely monitoring the princess''s condition, though it appears to be stable, despite the striking difference in the girl''s hair and eyes.
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And that incident was only the beginning. Ever since, La has made use of Yue as a mouthpiece to pass along commands. In that same time, the princess has also started to refer to herself a ''herald,'' perhaps at the ocean spirit''s prompting. Either way, there can be little doubt that it is in fact La that the princess is in contact with, and, on occasion, Tui.
(Many points support the conclusion. First, the koi fish in the oasis, the two spirits'' mortal forms, have vanished. Second, dismissal of the princess''s claims shortly after her near drowning had resulted in two giant waves cracking through the sea wall and sending a large chunk of it crashing into the ocean below, one wave of rebuke from La for each denial before they realized the two things were connected in a very real manner. And third, perhaps the most damning of all, Princess Yue''s new ability to waterbend is the strongest he has ever witnessed, in anyone. If anything, the princess has difficulty moving a sensibly small amount of water. With the smallest wave of her hand come violent waves and miniature avalanches. It is a frightening and awe-inspiring power to be housed in one so young.)
The master''s frown deepens. The situation in the North is tumultuous as it is, and now Iroh sends him news like this from the heart of the Fire Nation.
La and Agni.
The two are the greatest and most powerful among the spirits of water and fire, respectively, and they each have made seemingly simultaneous and mirroring moves. Pakku doesn''t like it. The last thing they need is for the spirits to awaken while they are in the midst of a protracted global war. War is messy enough by itself, but spirits are often catastrophic. Pakku can think of few things that could cause more damage than if the ocean and sun have decided to wage war across the mortal plane.
No, Pakku doesn''t like at all what this new development might imply.
Brave Soldier Boy, Comes Marching Home
They say Crown Prince Iroh''s siege of Ba Sing Se ended in broken earth and searing fire, but the city was not captured and the Fire Nation Army retreated. The whispers of soldiers present that day tell of white flames that had erupted to guard the breach in the city''s formerly impenetrable wall. A few rattled souls even claim to have seen dragons within the fires. They say the wall of white fire had grown ever wider as its intense heat continually crumbled the stone of its improvised hearth. For two days, the flames burned as casualties were evacuated from the battlefield, the Fire Nation''s own Prince Lu Ten being the last among them to be carried away from the devastation. No one knows quite what happened to the young prince during the final push of the siege, only that he was the cause for its end.
Zuko stares at the white fire held by a hand of the wrong shape.
"I thought I might find you out here!" Iroh calls, trying to hide his worry behind false cheer. Even he can tell he is doing a poor job of it, but the last eight days have worn on him as the days following his wife''s passing had. That Lu Ten yet breathes is a mercy, unexplained and miraculous, but a cloud hangs over the young man and refuses to disperse regardless of the distance put between them and the warfront. His worry only spikes higher as he draws close enough to see more than his son''s back. "You shouldn''t be bending," he chides gently, folding Lu Ten''s hand in both of his own and snuffing the blasphemous white flames that have replaced his boy''s healthy yellow fire.
"I''m fine," he grumbles and withdraws from Iroh''s hold.
"The doctor urged restraint until your chi has a chance to recover," Iroh insists, "You maintained a curtain of flame without break for more than seven-hundred-and-twenty degrees, to say nothing of the following three days that you slept through."
Lu Ten scowls and looks away, hunching into his cloak like a taciturn child. It would be less concerning if his son had ever been a taciturn child, or teenager, or man before this last campaign.
"I''ve already recovered!" Lu Ten argues.
"No, you have not!" Iroh snaps back, fear reaching a breaking point inside him. Lu Ten looks at him with wide, startled eyes as he continues, "These last three days you have been sullen and angry, restless in a manner I have never known you to be." He cups his son''s face. "I cannot imagine what must have happened at the front for it to affect you so! Whatever it was, I am willing to help you come to terms with it, but the fact remains that you have not been yourself, Son. You need rest!"
Lu Ten flinches and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment. And then, "I, I''m sorry." The younger prince pulls away, one hand brushing over the horrific wounds-turned-scars hidden by his shirt in what seems to be a wholly subconscious movement.
Iroh has been trying not to think too deeply about what too-swiftly healed injuries might point to, particularly as the new scars are a collection of matching cauterizations, front-to-back. Lu Ten''s missing cuirass had been found in one the most fatal areas of the last battle, still skewered through on spears of earthbent stone.
Back safely on the flagship headed directly for Caldera, Lu Ten meets his gaze and finds entirely new ways to terrify him. "I am, but the son you knew died at Ba Sing Se and I can''t be who you want me to be," Lu Ten tells him, "And... I''m sorry for what will happen when we get home."
The breath freezes in his lungs. "Lu Ten?" His son had been confused and disoriented when he''d woken from his prolonged sleep. The eyes that stare back at him today are not the eyes of a confused man, but Iroh finds it does little to comfort him.
Lu Ten shakes his head as his lips thin. "I''m sorry," he repeats. "I need to train."
"Lu Ten!" Iroh snaps, but his son ignores him, bowing over the sign of the flame before shrugging out of his cloak and striding away.
"Clear the deck!" Lu Ten bellows without sparing a glance for the men scrambling to obey.
He firebends at every opportunity, but the bubbling, restless energy persists no matter how hard he trains in an attempt to burn through the excess chi. The men are unfailingly quick to clear the center of the deck for him, but there are always some who linger along the edges of the bow and superstructure to watch him practice.
"We''ve reached port, sir. The men are ready to disembark," Colonel Ichiro reports, ostensibly to Iroh, as the general in charge of the campaign -- failed or not -- and ranking army officer on the vessel, but neither man is unaware of Lu Ten''s place standing at Iroh shoulder, rather than with his men as a captain.
"Proceed, Colonel," Iroh orders.
He doesn''t miss how Ichiro''s eyes slide to Lu Ten, nor Lu Ten''s confirming nod before the man spins on his heel and presents the order at volume to the assembled troops to begin disembarking.
It''s been an ongoing problem with the troops since the end of the siege. More and more of the men are looking to Lu Ten to lead rather than Iroh. It''s caused no shortage of squabbles among the lower ranks and Iroh would do more to fix the issue if he were not so occupied fretting over Lu Ten''s persistently odd behavior. Ironically enough, Lu Ten himself appears to be the only man aboard who remains oblivious to the informal shift in the brigade''s authority structure.
The breakdown in clear hierarchy has been more or less manageable here on the ship, especially as Lu Ten has been in consistent agreement with Iroh''s orders, but the implications for the nation are troubling. Iroh is not deaf to the scuttlebutt running up and down the ship, claims of Agni''s will expressed through flames of a rare color and ferocity. If trained soldiers are so quick to alter their allegiances, it can only be assumed that the citizenry will do so that much faster, and Azulon has never suffered a threat to his title or power for long.
If Lu Ten is careless, he could unwittingly catch the Fire Lord''s ire -- whether or not a civil war erupts under him as suddenly as his fire had brought a halt to the siege.
"Please, Son, do not flaunt your flames in front of the Fire Lord or at court," he begs once the sound of marching boots on steel will mask his words from listening ears.
Lu Ten frowns at him, and for a moment Iroh thinks he has been misunderstood. "I''m not a coward," his son tells him in irritation, proving he is less oblivious to his situation than Iroh had assumed from his behavior.
"Exercising discretion in your actions in accordance with fealty to the Fire Lord is not cowardice," Iroh argues desperately.
His son scoffs. "It is if the Fire Lord does not rule under Agni''s blessing."
"Watch your tongue!" Iroh snaps, nerves fraying, "Words like those spark wars!"
Lu Ten shakes his head and says, "I''m not going to involve the men. They''ve had a long deployment and deserve to go home to their families."
This is not the reassurance Lu Ten seems to believe it is.
He''s not sure what face he makes upon seeing Grandfather and Mother waiting on the pier to greet Iroh and him, but he gets the feeling it''s the wrong one.
Azula isn''t able to readily identify what the expression on Cousin Lu Ten''s face is meant to be, but it is none of the ones she had been expecting. It is not relief to be home. It is not shame for returning from a failed campaign. It is not anger at being denied the glory of conquest. It certainly isn''t that sappy joy for family that he and Uncle Iroh usually persist in. Well, for the family members they deign to consider worthy of liking, anyway. Mostly that amounts to just Mother and Zuzu these days, with a healthy deference for Fire Lord Azulon.
Then Lu Ten''s gaze lands on her and something else flits behind his eyes too quickly to be named but he doesn''t look away. Azula blinks back at him slowly and waits. It isn''t often that her older cousin remembers her existence.
Iroh and Lu Ten''s arrival at the end of the gangplank marks the end of her staring competition with Cousin Lu Ten. Both men bow to Grandfather and greet, "Fire Lord Azulon."
"Crown Prince Iroh, Prince Lu Ten," the old man returns as Mother, Zuzu, and Azula bow to the two higher ranked royals, "You''re looking better than the reports led me to believe, Grandson."
Another odd expression passes over Lu Ten''s face before he says, "I''m sure the doctors'' initial examinations were dire --"
"An understatement," Uncle Iroh mutters lowly.
Lu Ten''s expression tightens but he continues as if he hadn''t heard his father''s amendment, "-- but I''ve felt well enough over the last few days."
"Curious," Azulon says as he strokes his long whiskers, "I am looking forward to your debriefing."
"Right..." Lu Ten says, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "I''ll be back to give my report before dinner," he tells the Fire Lord as if he is the one who gets to dictate the time of the meeting.
Grandfather stares at the willful prince in shock.
"Lu Ten!" Iroh hisses but is once more ignored.
"I have some errands I need to do first," Lu Ten goes on before glancing over at where Zuzu and she are standing off to Mother''s side, "Would you like to come with me?"
"Where are we going?" Dum-Dum asks eagerly, without so much as a thought given to weighing the options in front of him.
There is the slightest hesitation before Lu Ten traps her idiot brother in a familiar headlock. Zuzu squawks and puts up a pretense of struggle but his laughter undercuts his arguments to be set free. "You''ll find out as we go," Lu Ten answers the youngest prince. He holds a hand out to her and simply asks, "Azula?"
She hadn''t been expecting the invitation to extend to her, given how her cousin typically looks through her as if she is invisible. Or, perhaps, simply that he wishes she was.
Grandfather doesn''t look happy, but neither does he appear dangerously unhappy, his shrewd eyes considering as they reevaluate the errant prince. Uncle looks caught between fear and resignation. How long has Cousin Lu Ten been acting counter to all of the most important court lessons?
Mother''s expression betrays her unease.
Azula makes her decision with more spite than is probably wise.
She accepts Lu Ten''s offered hand.
They''re so young. And tiny. And Azula''s surprise at being included, being wanted, makes him itch to raze the palace to the ground before he restrains the irrational desire.
Zuko watches wide-eyed as Lu Ten''s very proper and light grasp of Azula''s hand transforms into a very improper swoop and toss, complete with two separate shrieks from Azula (The first had been from surprise, but the second was a sound of pure outrage.) that ends with his terrifying little sister sitting perched on his older cousin''s shoulder. Lu Ten only laughs as Azula digs pointy fingernails into the bracer covering the arm secured over her thighs.
Lu Ten is even braver than Zuko had thought. He can''t imagine any Earth Kingdom soldier could be scarier than an angry Azula.
"Alright, that''s settled," Lu Ten declares, throwing his free arm around Zuko''s shoulder with an unrestrained grin that Zuko can''t help but match, "Let''s go."
Zuko falls into step with his cousin easily, only a bit shorter than the other prince despite their age gap. Lu Ten''s arm remains warm around him as the returned royal wordlessly guides him toward their undisclosed destination.
"I hate you," Azula hisses as soon as there is some distance between them and the older members of their family. The unearned height of her location allows her to loom over both of them like an irate pygmy puma.
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Lu Ten rolls the shoulder she''s sitting on and smirks up at her. "That''s alright, Zula."
"That is not my name."
Lu Ten ignores her objection. "I love you either way."
Zuko doesn''t think he''s ever seen that expression on his sister''s face before. He''s not entirely sure what it is.
"You''re as idiodic as my brother," Azula finally huffs.
"Hey!" Zuko yells, not sure if he''s more insulted for himself or for their cousin.
Lu Ten, for his part, stumbles and then laughs again.
"Don''t you dare drop me!"
He doesn''t know what to feel when, after a trip to the capital temple and then back into the city proper to buy street food for lunch, the children tell him why Ozai hadn''t been at the pier to welcome the two princes upon their homecoming.
"Father''s fire attacked him," Zuzu whispers in unease and Azula is once again forced to lower her opinion of her foolish older brother. She elbows him roughly in the ribs to shut him up before he says anything else that shouldn''t be discussed outside of the palace. Or inside of it, for that matter. "Hey!"
"Shut up, Dum-Dum!" Azula hisses back, reaching up to readjust the hood of his borrowed apprentice sage cloak before it can fall completely off his head and expose their identities to the peasants surrounding them. The cloaks are not a particularly good disguise -- far too much fabric hanging off of too small frames -- but no one has questioned them yet.
Lu Ten guides both of them down the street a ways and then into a vacant alley. "We''re going up," the elder prince announces, tossing his empty meat skewer aside and then offering interlocked hands as a foothold to boost the siblings up to the roof of the building behind him.
"That''s littering," Azula observes, just to be difficult, before flicking her own skewer in the same direction. The peasant cow-chicken had tasted better than she wants to admit. She calculates the distance between the presented launching point and the edge of the target roof before pushing past her dithering brother in a sprint.
"Hey!"
She doesn''t land as gracefully as she might have preferred. Zuko lands beside her a few seconds later and handles himself better than she would have thought he might, given her own performance. Almost suspiciously so, in fact. They both watch as Lu Ten attempts some kind of double-wall kick that he clearly knows better in theory than in practice, but he successfully joins them on the roof. For a given level of success. He manages to catch the eave and pulls himself up the rest of the way, at any rate.
Lu Ten rolls a wrist and flexes his fingers a few times with a light frown and then looks up at them. "What do you mean Ozai''s fire attacked him?"
Azula slaps a hand over his brother''s mouth and ignores his indignant struggles. She glances around them, but sees no one. Of course, they are up on the roofline now. How many people should she expect to see? There are probably fewer listening ears here than in the palace walls. Probably.
She keeps her voice quiet as she says, "Father''s firebending turns on him whenever he attempts to use it." She releases her brother but her eyes are trained intently on her cousin. "The healers haven''t been able to find the problem. Father has been on bedrest for thirteen days."
"Thirteen? That''s --" Lu Ten cuts himself short. Again, Azula finds she has difficulty reading his expression. It''s a troubled one, but beyond that she can''t tell what emotions are underpinning it.
"That''s what?" Zuko asks, thankfully clever enough to pick up on the fact that he should keep his volume low, "Lu Ten?"
Lu Ten sighs and says, "I may as well tell you now. Everyone will know soon enough." He pauses briefly. "Thirteen days ago, Agni made himself known to me. I''m to deliver a message to the Fire Lord."
Azula looks up at her cousin in skepticism and crosses her arms. Does he really think she''s naive enough to be put off with spirit tales?
"What''s the message?" her older brother, who apparently is that naive, asks immediately.
Azula rolls her eyes and is about to inform Zuko that he is being stupid again when Lu Ten lifts a hand between them and summons a flame. A white flame.
Cousin Lu Ten commands Agni''s Flames.
Azula gapes.
Lu Ten offers them both a wry, humorless smile. "One he won''t want to hear, or anyone else at court, for that matter. The two of you should stay well away from the throne room when we return."
It''s time to face destiny. He really wishes he had a reason to believe this instance was going to be any less of a catastrophe than facing destiny usually ends up being for him.
Zuk-- Lu Ten climbs the palace steps with a too-young cousin on either side of him and three cloaks thrown over his shoulder to be returned to the sages. Upon passing through the grand doors of the main entrance, they find Mother and Uncle --
That is, Aunt Ursa and, and Father --
It hurts. It hurts that he''s taken his cousin''s place. He doesn''t deserve this. Iroh has been so worried, ever since that first moment, and he doesn''t know that Zuko is an imposter, and he killed Lu Ten, and it''s all a lie except that it''s real, and now --
"Peace, child mine," says the warm voice that no one else ever hears. It claims to be Agni. Zu-- Lu Ten believes the claim. Too many otherwise impossible things have happened for him not to believe it. "Lu Ten of Second Fire''s death preceded your placement in this time. You are not responsible for ending his life."
Lu Ten whispers under his breath, barely moving his lips as he argues, "Iroh deserves to mourn his loss! My cousin deserves to be mourned!"
"Iroh of Second Fire does mourn," Agni observes, "though it is fair to note that he does not understand all that he is mourning. As for your cousin, are you not grieving for his loss?"
"It isn''t right!" he insists.
"In an imperfect existence, ''not right'' is sometimes the best that can be achieved."
Lu Ten doesn''t agree but he lets the matter drop. Now isn''t the time for a prolonged argument about ethics with a great spirit.
"Zuko, Azula, come along," Ursa says, "Your uncle and cousin need to meet with the Fire Lord now."
Azula glances at him briefly before obeying. Zuko lingers longer, staring up at him with an uncertain frown until Lu Ten nudges him.
"Go on. Go teach Azula how to feed the turtle-ducks or something," Lu Ten says, hoping it sounds teasing and successfully hides his anxieties over his imminent meeting with the nation''s leader and destiny.
"I don''t need to be taught how to feed turtle-ducks!" Azula seethes.
Zuko looks at his little sister and then back at Lu Ten. The boy leans back and crosses his arms before stating, "I''m not letting Azula kill the turtle-ducks."
"Ugh! I don''t want anything to do with your stupid turtle-ducks!" Azula sneers. It is probably only her mother''s presence that keeps Azula from using fire to back up her contempt.
Princess Ursa claps her hands loudly twice. "Enough!" she commands in open displeasure, "The both of you are going to your rooms until you can speak nicely to each other."
Good, that means they''ll both be safely out of the way for the rest of the day.
The young prince and princess dutifully follow after their mother, making faces at each other behind her back.
Iroh waits to speak until after the three other royals have departed. "I hope your errands were successful," he says, pointedly glancing at the pile of cloaks draped over Lu Ten''s shoulder, "The Fire Lord has been waiting for our debriefing. Are you ready?" The words are a mild censure of his actions, all things considered. The stressed lines carving themselves ever deeper into the older man''s face are far more effective.
Lu Ten releases a slow breath and nods.
"Yes."
The sages meet them just outside of the throne room. One collects the borrowed robes with a too-deep bow before leaving. The remaining sages are quick to fall into formation behind him as they follow him to meet with the Fire Lord.
Putting off an audience with the Fire Lord only to bring an unannounced contingent of Fire Sages with him to the throne room is a foreboding start to their debriefing, particularly given some of the ominous things his son has said over the course of their return to Caldera. Iroh can''t imagine how his son could leave him feeling any more stressed than he is at this moment, and yet... He is undeniably waiting for the second boot to drop. Surely Lu Ten has not arranged this show with the sages only to stay silent. The tension in the room is unbearable. Whether from his son or the sages, something is coming.
The crown prince wonders if Lu Ten is purposefully fraying every nerve that he has.
"Prince Iroh, Prince Lu Ten," Azulon acknowledges in a cool, aloof tone. He does not acknowledge the uninvited sages bowing in ordered arcs behind the younger prince. "Please, give your report on the Ba Sing Se Siege."
"I carry a message from Agni," Lu Ten says, discarding the Fire Lord''s order and rising directly from his kowtow to stand alone amongst the kneeling figures in the room. Iroh has to resist the urge to yank the young man back down into a respectful posture. Lu Ten is not a child anymore and he has made it clear that he will not so easily yield to his father''s corrections as he once did. Twin fires of white bloom from Lu Ten''s upturned hands.
The curtain of fire flickers, likely from surprise if Iroh were to guess, but Azulon''s voice is strong as he says, "Then speak, Prince Lu Ten."
Iroh''s heart beats against his breast like a festival drum. Will he be forced to choose? It would not be a difficult choice. Azulon has always been a distant father while Iroh has instead chosen to love his son with his whole heart. No, the choice would be easy, but the aftermath of defying the Fire Lord could be disastrous for them both. Depending on what happens next, Iroh may not be able to save his son.
"You are to end the war immediately. Withdraw the troops and secure the territory lines as they stand. Agni is forbidding the expansion of the Fire Nation''s borders until such a time as a True Herald of Agni returns to the throne as Fire Lord."
Fire Lord Azulon''s voice is cold as he asks, "...Are you implying that I am not Agni''s Herald? Would you claim the title yourself, Prince Lu Ten?" The old man tisks. "By what trick do you produce those white flames?"
Iroh''s fingers itch to bend, to throw up a shield around his son, to grab the young man and run.
Lu Ten''s breaths take on the deeper rhythm of sustained bending. "No tricks," he answers the Fire Lord and continues, "Azulon, Iroh, and Ozai have all been judged by Agni and deemed unworthy. If I were to falter now, I would likewise be deemed unworthy."
"Enough. Cease these senseless claims and recant your lies before I remove you from succession!"
"These are not lies!" Lu Ten insists, "Please, Grandfather, accept Agni''s mercy! He will allow you and Iroh to sit the throne if you will only listen!"
"So, I am to be made the puppet-king of my own grandson? And Iroh after me?" Azulon asks. "I think not. No, Sozin sought to create a world under the banner of the Fire Nation''s greatness and ensure the prosperity of future generations. I''ll not let my father''s vision die because of treasonous claims made by a prince who has forgotten his place.
"Iroh! Escort your son to the palace physicians!" Fire Lord Azulon orders, "Perhaps they will find cause for this impudent behavior that the military doctors missed."
For the briefest of moments, Iroh is lightheaded with relief even as he scrambles to his feet to lead his son away. "Yes, Fire Lo--"
"Grandfather! Please, recon--"
"Silence!" Azulon roars, "You will speak no more of these blasphemous lies!"
Lu Ten''s fire flares and twines over itself, rushing through the room and consuming all the other fires and their fuel as it moves past them. Soon, the only remaining light in the throne room comes from a dragon entirely composed of white fire.
The fire-dragon''s long body fills the room, twisting around its other occupants and supporting a winded Prince Lu Ten with one well-placed coil. The dragon stares down the shaken Fire Lord and says in a rumbling voice that is felt as much as heard, "If you will not heed the words of my herald, then you will heed mine, Azulon of Second Fire."
Agni.
The dragon of white fire is Agni.
Iroh feels faint.
"Your unwillingness to listen has cost you," Agni intones, "Your reign is over, and with it Sozin''s War. Neither of your sons will inherit the throne. Instead Lu Ten the Reforged will be crowned as Fire Lord and Herald to see my will imparted upon my lands and people."
Azulon makes a choked noise of protest, or maybe it is shock, as one giant talon of fire sears through the old man''s topknot, unceremoniously relieving him of the Fire Lord''s headpiece. The stink of burning hair wafts through the room as the topknot is consumed by white fire to leave behind just the golden flame, free of blemish or sign of its previous owner. Agni pinches the ornament between two talons almost delicately and holds it before his chosen herald until Lu Ten raises his hands to catch the crown that it is literally dropped into his possession.
"I will allow you to keep your life, because it is the desire of my herald to offer you mercy," Agni says, "Do not make a nuisance of yourself in your retirement. I am displeased when I must revoke gifts to my heralds."
"Y-yes, Agni," Azulon croaks. The spirit''s warning is certainly clear enough.
And then the dragon rounds on Iroh.
One large claw moves toward his face and Lu Ten makes an attempt to intercede, "Wait --" His son is cut off from him by a loop of the dragon''s body. The claw of fire does not burn as it comes to rest on his forehead, but it is more than a little disconcerting to be suddenly face-to-face with his patron spirit, let alone in the context of all that he has just heard and witnessed.
"Iroh of Second Fire," Agni addresses him. Iroh suppresses a shudder as he realizes he hears the voice not with his ears now, but rather, his mind. "You have been found unworthy of my heraldship, but there is yet a task I have for you. Support Lu Ten the Reforged and live with an open heart. Do this for me and the familial ties you desire will come to you, one by one. You shall become father and cherished uncle to many young ones beyond the limits of shared blood. Though you will never take the throne yourself, you will guide the next generation. You will help raise leaders from children. See to it that the lessons they learn from you are just and honorable."
Iroh swallows past a dry throat. "Yes, Agni."
Agni does not offer any further words. The dragon of fire flies up to collide with the center of the roof, sparks raining down and extinguishing themselves above head-height.
"Un-- Father! Are you, are you well?" Lu Ten rushes to ask as soon as Agni is no longer keeping them separate from each other.
"I''m fine, Lu Ten, I''m fine!" Iroh assures, cupping his boy''s face, "Are you?"
"Yes."
"Good," Iroh sighs. He can''t help but cringe when he catches a glimpse of the crown still held by his son, reflective surface glinting in the fires held aloft by the sages who have remained as silent witnesses of the events that unfolded here. No one outside the throne room knows it yet, but the world has just changed drastically. "Go to the temple and arrange your coronation with the sages. I need to see to your grandfather." Hopefully, Azulon will let him provide assistance rather than fight him in pride and shame.
Lu Ten turns to look past the missing wall of flame to the shellshocked ex-Fire Lord. "But shouldn''t I --"
"Please, Lu Ten. For me."
"...Alright."
"Thank you."
His coronation is at sunrise the very next day. Azulon and Ozai do not attend, both confined to bedrest for an indefinite amount of time. Whispers and rumors spread like wildfires across the Fire Nation, and Earth Kingdom, and finally to the Water Tribes. No matter what stories he hears, they never manage to live up to the absurdities of the truth. In that way, some things haven''t changed between this life and his last.
They say Fire Lord Lu Ten usurped his grandfather''s throne, skipping over his father''s claim entirely in his ambition. The sages who bore witness to the fateful meeting between grandfather and grandson speak of white fire and great spirits to all willing to listen, but who trusts the words of men that would facilitate a coup? The only thing anyone can agree on, is that two weeks after Fire Lord Lu Ten took the throne, Fire Nation troops retreated and made no further advancements. The world spins on, but the people wait with bated breath for what will happen next.
A month following the unexplained retreat, the Fire Nation breaks its silence.