Chapter 11: Cast
Cast your hopes to the river,
Cast your heart to your kin,
Place your trust in the gamble,
And pray that you’ll win.
She was in motion when her cell door opened, quick steps running lithely across the floor to leap off from the wall. But the instant she heard the hinges creak, she directed her feet towards the pallet that was her bed. And so it was that he found her, eyes downcast in a scowl directed at the nearest corner of her cell, her greasy hair framing her heart-shaped face.
“Lady Mai.”
Here in this hellhole, a door opening didn’t mean much - it was probably just another guard coming to order her around, to call her prisoner in that sneering voice of theirs. But the title was enough to jerk her head up, and she found herself staring into the smiling eyes of a vaguely familiar face.
How long has it been?
He was dressed simply and readily; light armour covered his vitals, almost melding to his body over his deep red tunic. His helmet swung loosely in his hand, freeing his up face to her perusal. Whoever he was, he had the graceful lines of a noble-born, but also the hardness of a soldier. Those two attributes might have been enough to dismiss him in her eyes as nondescript - there were many such people in the Fire Nation. And yet there was something about his half-smile, the inclination of his head that meant more than it should have. Despite the hard reality of his body, the lines on his youthful face carved by duty and responsibility, he looked as though he might soar away at any moment. And locked in a prison of her own making, Mai wanted to reach out and grasp that freedom for herself.
She swallowed hoarsely. “Who are you?”
He pushed the door open fully and rested a foot against it before looking back at her. “Prince Zuko sent me for you and Miss Ty Lee,” he replied, the lightness in his voice somehow making him seem more than just the delivery boy. His eyes locked gently into hers. “It’s time that you were free.”
But the last words were lost to her. “Zuko?” the word stuck in her throat, and she was suddenly on her feet. “Zuko sent you?”
“That’s right,” he nodded. “Prince Zuko’s coronation is at midday, and since we learnt where you were held less than a day ago, he wanted you to attend.”
She blinked, disbelieving. He’d found out that she was in prison, and he was freeing her just so she could attend his coronation? She managed to tamp down her bitterness, but not before the last sting of hurt rippled through her. Why did he take so long? Why didn’t he come? Anger suddenly flared in her chest. “And what if I don’t want to?” she lifted her chin up proudly. “What if I decided to tell him where to stick his coronation?”
It was his turn to blink. “Oh! My apologies, Lady Mai. I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that. Prince Zuko’s first thoughts were to free you, but the timing simply meant that our arrival would coincide neatly with the ceremony,” he hesitated, gave her a measured glance, and then continued. “I’m sure it would mean something to him for you to be present.”
She gave him her blank, stone-like stare, the one that usually had servants tumbling over her feet. But to her surprise, the formality in him suddenly dropped away and he straightened, a question in his eyes. “And it wouldn’t it mean something to you as well?”
The pain was like a thrust in her heart, and it was all the more agonising because it was self-inflicted. “If you’re asking whether we’re still together, we’re not,” she turned her gaze away from him, somehow managing to make her tonelessness scathing at the same time. And yet, even as it hurt, the pain seemed to clear away the fog in her mind. Free. He said that it was time we were free. The thought was enough to brush away her inner turmoil for later, and she turned back to him like a queen. “Ty Lee?” she demanded.
She expected him to blink, to stumble and to race before he caught up with her. Instead, he glanced at her briefly like he was reading something from her face. “Safe. One of my men is escorting her from her cell at this moment. We shall see her in a few minutes if we leave now.”
She watched as his eyes shifted, and he looked around the bare walls of the prison cell - the stone bench and the coarsely padded mattress that had been her constant companion. “Unless, that is, you want anything else from this place?”
The lightly coloured sarcasm in his voice was surprisingly refreshing, and she knew that she would have looked down on him if he’d said it any other way. Nevertheless, Mai was about to snort a rather unladylike reply when she felt the material of her prison uniform rub stickily against her skin. “Actually, yes,” she cleared her throat dryly. “I want a shower.”
He paused, his hand on the door once again, and she could almost see him thinking against that closed yet open face. “Of course,” he replied, and then offered her another half-smile. She decided that she liked that expression on him the best of all, right next to his perplexed one. “I was actually going to take you to the Palace first, but I see the wisdom of your course.”
His gaze lingered on her for a moment, thoughtfully, before he turned to hold the door open for her. She tried to ignore him and walk through, but then he spoke again. “Just as well I brought you and Miss Ty Lee suitable raiment.”
Mai glanced up at him. “Thank you,” she said, startled. And then she realised they were far too close, the narrow confines of the doorway pushing them together, and she stepped through properly and slowly enough to convince herself she wasn’t fleeing. There was a pause behind her, and then he released his grip. The sound of the hinges creaking and the door to her cell slamming shut had never sounded so good in her life.
Mai let herself smile, slightly, the cool wind against her cheek giving her a sudden rush of joy. For a moment, she could have laughed at the irony. She’d always worked hard to keep herself a little dead inside, just so she couldn’t feel the gnawing hunger of loneliness and disappointment. But prison had changed that. Prison had caged her within herself for so long that the dam had cracked, Zuko and then her own betrayal tossing endless questions and needles of hurt at her that she could not avoid. And it had hurt. Perhaps you could have at least looked me in the eye when you ripped out my heart was a tad exaggerated, but the pain had been so real after years of not feeling anything.
Her mouth lifted even more. Yes, that was ironic. Something little to thank Zuko for, she supposed, but then she shoved that thought aside for now, just letting herself enjoy the freedom rushing through her, and marveling at the flipside of allowing herself to feel.
She had forgotten how good joy tasted.
“Lady Mai?”
The strains of freedom rushing through her slowed, but then they collected around her heart and gave her enough energy to jolt her back into moving again. The layers of the prison skimmed away as she walked quickly to the shower block, anticipating the feel of water against her skin. The youth walked steadily to her shoulder, his boots touching lightly against the floor, and Mai suddenly realised that throughout it all, he had never really responded to her first question.
Mai paused, and turned to pin him with her gaze. “Who are you?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.
His eyes were opaque, barely reflective, and so it was that she couldn’t see what he saw. The guard captain watched as underneath the shapeless red shift, her body settled down defensively, her toes angling slightly outward. Even worn down by weeks of prison, she was like a sharply honed blade, glittering, sure and deadly. And to another, perhaps that was all she was. But he saw feeling behind the paleness of her cold beauty, and when he looked into her eyes he found something there, something tangible that mesmerised him with its promise.
“Shen Li,” he finally answered. “My name’s Shen Li.”
8 8 8
Even in the hard stone confines of the prison, the cascades of water made her feel human again. Still, it was the red and black pile of clothing and the neatly lacquered box on top that made her spirit lift when she got out. Mai stepped into her old clothes again, a genuine smile gracing her face as she felt the familiar silk and cotton against her skin. Her fingers skimmed across the tunic, wondering whether he’d gone to her house or whether Zuko had ordered someone to make up a new set. Not that it mattered. She was out of the shapeless red bag every prisoner at the Boiling Rock wore. That was enough to make everything settle back into place when she looked into the mirror.
Rust-coloured pants against a black, red and white over-tunic with enough spaces and folds to secrete at least twenty daggers. She smiled at herself in the mirror, a smile without warmth or pity.
She was Mai.
Lady Mai.
She was about to turn from the mirror when she saw her eyes. And then she dropped her arms in shock and pressed her nose to the glass. A more unobservant person might have missed it entirely, but now as she looked at herself again, spent longer seconds staring into unfamiliar irises that seemed to carry more weight, a flood of uncertainty prickled her skin. She was Lady Mai, yes. But whatever that title meant now, she wasn’t sure. After all, she was no longer the Fire Princess’ friend, Azula’s puppet or even the Fire Prince’s girlfriend. The question gnawed at her for long seconds, until Mai finally turned away from the mirror to face the box she’d left abandoned on the stone seat. Eager to rid herself of the uncomfortable stirring of unsurety, she flipped the casing open without even glancing at the lock. But then when she saw what was inside, laying sharp and sleek against the blood-red cushioning, it felt like time had spun backwards and she was just a child at Flamerule Fest all over again.
“Thank you,” she found herself saying again when she was outside.
“You’re welcome,” he said honestly, no fetters in his gaze. “Are you ready?”
It was funny how such a simple question could let her slip back into the old games again. Mai rolled her eyes. “Of course,” she said dryly. “Let’s get on with it.”
He chuckled, turned, and then they were off to the gondolas. And Mai was glad all over again for her foresight when Ty Lee came running, once again dressed in her irrepressible pink outfit and with her ecstatic smile shining through the grime. Not that that stopped Mai from hugging her back, or from sitting as close as she possibly could to her childhood friend on the way back. Shen Li had brought a small fleet of three air balloons, and yet even they were cramped with the other prisoners he’d been requested to bring back. Mai turned away from the glares of a Water tribe woman in the corner and spent most of the time listening to Ty Lee (it’ll be all better now! Even though I don’t really know where to go yet, at least we’re free!) and quizzing the intriguing guard captain on the events they’d missed in the past few weeks. The hours ticked past surprisingly quickly with those two pastimes, and so it was that the rush of apprehension caught her by surprise when the helmsman announced they were landing.
Mai got to her feet warily, hanging back as the other guards escorted the Earth and Water prisoners to the courtyard. But then she felt Ty Lee snatch her hand, and she was dragged off the air balloon and onto the soil of the Fire Nation capitol before she could blink. And she was free, she was truly free of the stupid prison with its stupid chains...
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shen Li speaking to one of his guards, and then Ty Lee gave her another hard hug that almost cracked her ribs and bounced off to have her own shower. That left Mai with the guard captain, and he shaded his eyes as he tracked the sun against the sky. The golden globe was close to its zenith, and he judged that they had about twenty-five minutes to go before Prince Zuko stepped out into the courtyard.
The girl next to him shifted, and he turned to see caution suddenly veiling her eyes. “Now what?” she asked dryly. “I suppose we go off to watch Zuko’s coronation?”
Shen Li caught the inflection in her voice, and shook his head inwardly. Even if she was denying it, he could tell that there was still something between her and the Fire Prince, something that they would both need to sort out. He remembered the look in Zuko’s face when he’d mentioned her name, and he glanced at the sun one last time before turning back to her. “Actually, I believe Prince Zuko will have finished with most of his preparations. We have enough time to see him briefly now... if you’d like.”
For a moment her eyes widened, and they opened his gaze long enough to see that he was right. But as quickly as the window had come, they closed again, and she scowled, her shield of boredom falling across her face once more.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”
She swept away before he could answer, as imperiously as any princess.And Shen Li let a corner of his mouth lift before he followed . As you wish.
The remainder of their walk up to the palace was silent. Mai was lost in her thoughts, the turmoil she’d pushed away coming back with a vengeance, and Shen Li was content to let stillness lie where he found it. She didn’t complain; it gave her time to think. Despite what she’d said, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to face Zuko again. The last time she’d seen him had been painful enough, when she’d turned long enough during her betrayal to glance over her shoulder and see him gazing back at her. Their eyes had locked with such finality it had hurt, the silent pain and promise she’d tossed over their connection met only by the blank hopelessness of a useless apology. Mai’s jaw tightened. Even though it had been weeks, weeks locked away with only the shadows of her own company, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for a repeat.
“Lady Mai?”
She started. They were in an arching golden corridor, soft red carpet at their feet, and she stared at the flame-stitched curtain in front of them for a moment before remembering. “He’s here?”
“He’s here,” Shen Li nodded in confirmation. “Not only that, there’s only a few minutes left until he’s due to go out, so he should be alone.” He gestured at the hanging with his hand and stepped back. “Here, I’ll stay outside. You’ll have some privacy.”
Mai looked at him askance. “We’ve never had privacy.”
He looked surprised. “Really?”
She was about to retort when the memory hit her. The first night after Azula’s conquering of Ba Sing Se. She remembered ignoring Azula’s snidely encouraging laugh as she traversed the corridors, her feet unerringly pointed towards his room in the maze of green. And she hated green. And when she’d found him...
They’d been alone that night. That night when it all began...
Mai snarled inwardly at herself and then faced the curtain head-on. How fitting it should end as it began, she thought. And then she soundlessly stepped through.
The first thing she saw was a tall figure silhouetted against the far left window. He looked so different for a moment that she didn’t recognise him. His hands were clasped loosely at his front, draping the royal ceremonial robes sharply around his shoulders, and he looked so much like a Lord that her eyes moved to the other figure in the room second, expecting to see Zuko’s scarred face staring back at her.
But she didn’t.
It took Mai a second to process what she was seeing. Directly ahead of her was the fire-insignia curtain leading out to the courtyard where the people were waiting. To her left, Zuko stood facing the window to the ocean, his back to her. And then to her right, a man crouched in the shadows, holding something sharp and glinting...
“Zuko!” she shouted, and he whipped around, his scarred eye widening in what seemed like slow motion. But then after that, it was over frighteningly quickly. Mai hurled her newly regained senbon with a speed and an accuracy born of pure instinct and desperation, and the man was pinned to the wall before he could shout. But the blade had already left his fingers. Her eyes tracked it as it sped towards its target, and she saw Zuko’s pale face even as she knew she couldn’t stop it...
From somewhere deep inside her, a volcanic eruption of flame enveloped her core. A distant, silent cry ripped from her heart, and then Mai felt the wild rush of vengeance seize her limbs. It moved her across ten meters of floor in a breath, and she fell on the assassin like a deadly puma-leopard, spearing his throat with her hands and sharply cracking her elbow against his face. There was a dull snap! as his head jerked back against the wall, and then he crumpled. She kicked a last dart into his unconscious body viciously, pinning his clothing irrevocably to the wall. And then she turned, readying herself to see Zuko on the floor, to see blood...
Instead, she saw wires.
Shen Li crouched low on the floor, his two hands extended and his fingers plucking the air. The assassin’s blade hung frozen in space, centimeters from Zuko’s heart, before clattering to the ground. The guard captain wound his wires back, and the weapon skittered across the floor back to him, leaving an oily trail of poison in his wake. He bent to pick it up, an unreadable expression crossing his face. And when he looked up, he was instantly caught; trapped in the cross-gazes of the Prince and his former lady as they stared at each other, at him, and then at the unconscious assassin hanging from the wall.
It was as if time had separated from its dimension and frozen them all in their place. In the background, the crash of the gong sounded to signal the Fire Prince. But none of them moved. Mai felt the currents of an ocean shift inside her, and then the words came rushing out from old memories like a newborn spring, clearing away the shadows in her mind. “You,” Mai whispered, lowering her knives as she locked gazes with the boy in front of her. “You were the boy with the wires.”
Shen Li didn’t move, his amber eyes drawn hopelessly back into hers. “I...”
Zuko turned to glance at both of them, sharply. “You two know each other? How?”
The words seemed to start the guard captain back to his senses. “I... We don’t have time, Zuko. The gong’s already sounded. You should be out there.”
Mai swallowed, shaken, and that in itself was shocking. “That man was trying to kill you,” she said numbly, and the nightmarish images leapt into her mind yet again. Pictures of Zuko collapsed on the floor, a marionette with its strings cut. And red, so much red... “What if there’s someone else?” she demanded abruptly. “They sent one assassin, there could be another one out in the crowd.”
Shen Li didn’t hesitate before he shook his head. “Chances are that there aren’t,” he responded crisply, looping his wires into his hands and then tucking them back into his sleeves. “Whoever planned this didn’t expect us to interrupt. But even if there is, I think I’ve enough time to get to the audience if I need to. I’ll stay in the shadows...”
“Not alone,” she felt her breath slowly creep back to her, her control reasserting itself again as she overrode him. “I’ll come with you. That way there’ll be two pairs of eyes and we’ll be more likely to get to any would-be traitor in time...”
Shen Li tightened his jaw. There are thousands of people out there who hate him. Two still won’t be enough. “Fine. We’ll have to be fast, though, and...”
“Hey!” Zuko interjected, eyes flashing. “I’m still in the room you know. You don’t have to go anywhere, I’ll be fine.”
“But Prince Zuko...”
He clenched his fists underneath his sleeves, ignoring his security guard to focus on her. “We need to talk,” he said desperately. “Mai, I’m so sorry, I...”
She glared at him, and the ferocity of it pinned him to the floor. “Are you insane?” she rasped. “Shen Li’s right. You need to be out there. Now.”
The gong sounded again, a little desperately, and Zuko wished he could scream. “Fine,” he said in a hard voice. “But we’re talking later. We’re not finished here.”
His gaze were as rough as his voice, but they were somehow pleading as well, and Mai said nothing as she tilted her head and studied him, studied the length of his pale neck and the dreams and determination in his eyes that she had always dismissed until now. “No,” she agreed calmly. “But we will be.”
How the blazes could he answer that? Zuko clenched his fists, ready to fight her, ready to fight for her like he should have, but then the unending reverberations of the gong shook him to his senses and he dropped his arms to his sides like hot coals. A sudden emptiness opened up in his stomach, a bottomless pit that he couldn’t control. What was he thinking? He wasn’t just the Fire Prince any more. He was about to become Fire Lord, and he saw that knowledge already settled in the eyes of his guard captain and his former girlfriend.
So act like it, they seemed to say, and Zuko set his shoulders in response.
“Follow me,” he asked suddenly, curtly. It hung in the air, not so much an order as it was a question, and yet neither of them hesitated.
“Always,” they replied in unison, surprise colouring their features as they glanced each at each other a moment later. Mai was the first to look away, her hand moving up to touch the raspy hint of tears in her throat. But then Zuko spoke, and she had to look back into his shining eyes, full of regrets and acknowledgment.
“Thank you,” he said, honestly, and then he turned swiftly away to stride out to the waiting masses. And Shen Li and Mai didn’t pause as they gathered themselves to do as they promised.
Follow him.
8 8 8
The first thing that struck him was just how many people there were. Zuko was glad suddenly for the heavy, draping robes - they hid his tremors as he walked, made him graceful as he passed the Fire Sages and their narrowed eyes and strode into the burn of the sun. In front of him, the great cascade of stairs tumbled down into the great courtyard filled with what looked to be thousands of people. For a moment, he was overwhelmed by the sea of crimsons, golds and blacks, but then as he focused her saw the small circle of greens and blues to his left, looking weak and yet inconceivably strong in their loneliness. And he swallowed at their faces, which blurred into the features of so many others staring at him with hate, with fear and distrust.
Agni help me.
Zuko had never imagined that his coronation would be like this. When he was younger, he’d just pictured hordes of his people cheering in the streets as the crown was placed on top of his head. And then as he’d gotten older, he’d envisaged more - the Fire sages proclaiming him as Ozai’s beloved son before they crowned him. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut briefly for a moment. There had also been a time, that black, dark time when he’d almost given up entirely...
But that certainly wasn’t the case now. The crown was his for the taking - he could see it glittering in the hands of a Fire Sage just to his right. But the people spread out in front of him were not cheering. They had become silent at his entrance, and somehow that was more foreboding than anything else could have been. He’d never thought he would take the throne with his people hating him even when I did it all for them, it was always for them, can’t they see that? And he remembered with a start one of the oldest history lessons he’d taken as a child. The ones about failed Fire Lords, about riots in the street and the collective power of the people’s hatred.
Zuko swallowed again. The evidence was spread out before him, in mutinous, shadowed faces and distrusting eyes. He was the traitor prince, and someone had just tried to kill him. His blood went cold under the burning of the sun, and Zuko suddenly wanted to turn tail and flee back into the golden cage of the palace. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. He could fight against Azula, he could fight against himself, but he couldn’t fight against ten thousand people who hated him, not when he loved them, when he loved his country. And he couldn’t see any other way to combat it. Public opinion was stubborn, he knew that. Blue eyes suddenly flashed in his memory, and he remembered how hard that had been, the weeks of living with the snide remarks and the hateful glances, even when he’d deserved every one of them.
Zuko looked at his people, and inwardly he quailed. He wasn’t sure he could do that for the rest of his life, however long it would be. Especially not when this time, he’d done it for them. He’d always done it for them. Yet the hatred and ignorance shining back at him gave him a glimpse of his future, and Zuko was suddenly sure he couldn’t do it.
Oh Uncle, I’m sorry, I can’t. I don’t have what it takes, I don’t. I’m just Zuko, I’m just the traitor, banished, exiled prince, and I...
I never give up without a fight.
He could have laughed or sobbed as the thought rose up in his mind. No, he never gave up without a fight, but this was one that he’d never dreamt of, an uphill battle without an end in sight against his own people. And even if by some miracle he won that, what then? The group of blues and greens stared back at him accusingly as the question flitted across his face. The whole world hated the Fire Nation now, he’d seen evidence of that with his own eyes. His gaze drew itself to the sea he’d been staring at to calm himself. Somewhere across its waters, Aang was either battling or about to battle the Earth Kingdom men intent on slaughtering his soldiers.
He wasn’t sure he could blame them.
Zuko looked at the sea, looked at his people, looked at the foreign prisoners, and then looked at his hands. And then he cleared his throat, and the crowd, which had already fallen silent, quieted further. In the stillness, he heard two pairs of footsteps come to a halt behind him, wow, did everything really just occur to me in only a few seconds? and the sound of them gave him an absurd sense of courage. Everything was in place now, ready for him even if he wasn’t sure if he was ready for it, and so he took a moment to focus again on the pocket of blues and greens. They stood so solidly against the crowd of Fire Nation people, and he smiled at their strength. Three years ago, he had ventured out thinking that the Fire Nation deserved to rule the world. Now, he only hoped that he would live to see equal, balanced lines of the four elements one day, perhaps even in this very courtyard. And as if to remind him of the possibilities, he suddenly saw Azula’s bier out of the corner of his eye, shining unbearably, simply, and beautifully in the light of the sun.
Zuko set his shoulders again. He could not fail.
He turned to his people first, spreading out his arms in an opening gesture, “People of the Fire Nation,” he called, and his voice rolled over the massive sea of crimson and touched the tiny group of greens and blues. “People of the World.”
There was a restless murmur, but he did not wait for it to quiet. “We stand before each other today at the brink of a new era. For almost a century, we have been turned against each other by men seeking what they shouldn’t. We have been taught hatred, fed lies, and instructed to fear.”
His gaze swept down to the people of the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes. “The war has taken us away from our families. The war has taken families away from us. The war has stolen us, beaten us, and imprisoned us. And although it is over, the hatred and fear it bred is not. They live within us, and if we let them, they will continue to destroy us.”
It was a contingent. That was the first thing Katara saw as she crested the bend in the river. A contingent of fully armoured, trained Fire Nation soldiers systematically tearing the small village down even as their leader stood tall on a pile of broken things and spat out words of hate and fury. And yet their numbers didn’t even make her pause. She felt strong in purple cloth and gauze, absurdly powerful in her element. She rushed down the river almost silently, any noise of her passage cloaked by the rushing of the river, and so it was that the villagers saw her, but the leader of the insurgents didn’t. She caught his last few words just before she rained down water on the burning houses and drenched everyone in sight...
... “We will not back down for the Avatar’s lackey! We will never bow to the traitor Prince!”
And the bile sliced through the air, rammed down her throat, and Katara smirked painfully just before she slammed her next wave into his back.
He had never thought of himself as a great speaker. Hi, Zuko here. And yet, he could see the effect of his words now, rolling across the crowd with a dreadful simplicity, and they gave him the courage to steel himself for the next leap, the plunge that would seal his fate whichever way his people turned. For a moment, he didn’t think he could do it. He had always pushed it away from him, hidden the hurt under layers of anger and misdirected hatred. But then his mind leapt back to a night three days ago, when he’d met with a young waterbender who’d once been his enemy, and she’d looked up into his eyes.
You’ll make a good Fire Lord. I believe in you.
Zuko breathed, in, and out. And then the words came like lava, hot and blackened against his tongue. “Four years ago, I was burned in this courtyard for daring to speak out against the needless sacrifice of our soldiers.”
He didn’t need to have ears to hear the gasp. Stories has abounded of just what had caused the Fire Prince’s banishment. When Zuko had returned, the old official statements of ‘a training accident’ had circulated, but even by then not many people had believed it. No training accident could be that controlled, that precise, and leave the eye intact. Not when it was the Fire Prince.
“And then, when I was banished and dishonoured, I was sent to find the Avatar. The last perceived threat to the Fire Nation.”
There was almost a collective sigh, a hissing between the teeth of the blood-coloured crowd. Yes, the Avatar. For a moment, Zuko idly wondered how many of them had seen the horror of the Ember Island Players, but then he dismissed it. There was enough other propaganda swirling around the Fire Nation to choke a herd of ostrich-horses. “Yes, the Avatar. The last perceived threat to the Fire Nation, but as I learnt, the last hope to the world.”
Aang had known it would be bad. But he hadn’t thought it would be like this. The Earth Kingdom smoked and crumbled beneath them as Appa sank lower, and the Avatar looked at the ruins before him, saw where the Fire Nation soldiers had barricaded themselves behind fallen wood. He heard the shrilling cries of the desperate, the dying, and the chilling silence of the dead as civilians and soldiers alike, armed with whatever they could find, laid into red-coloured armour and flesh. He saw where the ground was darker, realised with horror that it was the stain of blood...
Toph swallowed beside him, her little hands clutching the side of Appa’s saddle. He looked at them, briefly. The fingers were stubborn and hard, the fingernails cracked and dirty as they tightened. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Aang did not answer. But a terrible cry sounded in his throat as he leapt off Appa’s back into the fray.
“The Avatar brings balance. He is balance. Balance between the four nations, the way things were meant to be,” he shook his head hopelessly. “The Fire Nation was never meant to take over the world. We were lied to,” his voice shook. “We were taught, we, the loyal sons and daughters of the Fire Nation were taught that we were bringing the greatness of the Fire Nation to the world. But we weren’t. We were bringing death and despair, and back home, death and despair were sowed when good Fire Nation soldiers died for the greed and power-hunger of others.”
Zuko smiled grimly. “Four years ago, I was burned for valuing lives over misguided victory, valuing my people, the Fire Nation’s honour over its war. Three days ago, I watched my sister descend into madness because of that same mentality,” he paused and spread his arms out, each second trembling past in the wind. “This war has scarred both the Fire Nation and the world. All of us have lost loved ones - daughters, sons, some soldiers, some innocents,” his breath hitched a little and he went on. “We have lost mothers and fathers, grandparents, brothers and sisters. And in their place, the war has made us gain hatred and loathing, fear and disdain.”
There were many of them, and that was her downfall. Katara had barely enough time to recapture her water when the fireballs streaked at her, screaming against the wind. She dodged them, threw up waves to catch them, but there were so many of them that it was just within her to keep out of their way. But then there was a cry, and her eyes strayed automatically to one of the villagers and she recognised his beaten face, Lee! And the distraction was enough to make her pause, make the Painted Lady hover still in the air and then fly backwards with a cry when the force of a narrowly deflected flame strike toppled her backwards against unyielding stone. Through a daze, she heard the leader walk to the edge of the pier and felt him stare downwards, trying to see past the woven straw and the gauze. His voice was mocking and cruel as his gaze swept over the rest of her. “And who are you, little girl?”
“The war may be over, but the hatred and fear continues. People have suffered, suffered terribly, and the easiest path for suffering is to hate. And yet we cannot let this happen.”
Zuko sucked in a breath, a little unsteadily, and then plunged ahead. “And that is why we are all gathered here today. Fire, Water, Earth.” The last one hung in the air unspoken, and he bared his face proudly to the sky even as he felt his heart crack a little inside. “All of us have been scarred by the war, and so all of us must now work together to heal. Peace can come, if we fight for it together. Because although the Air Nomads and their wisdom is gone, the last Airbender is still with us, and we can learn compassion and forgiveness from him. Because the Avatar is in the Earth Kingdom right now, protecting our soldiers and our people from hate.”
Toph had fought at Earth Rumbles. Toph had fought the Dai Li. But these were civilians, crazed by hatred and grief, and so she blocked off blows and trapped limbs in stone. But they just kept coming.
Most of the soldiers, bound by their orders, did not fire back. With their superior battle skill, they ran, they evaded, they blocked. And when they were overrun, they died. But some struck back, fear overcoming discipline and honour. And Toph felt the blood of both sides spill into the earth, felt a hundred hammering heartbeats of hatred, and wanted to cry.
But she didn’t. She firmed her little feet and she sunk low in her stance, just like she’d taught herself and taught him, and she somehow felt his heartbeat through it all. That little, unique fluttering that called to her as she smashed rocks and heaved earth. She felt Aang stand tall, powerful sweeps of air driving the combatants apart. And although she couldn’t see it, she knew that he wasn’t going to back down either.
The ripples spread like water across the crowd, too quick to see with the naked eye. The Avatar? The Avatar is fighting for us? And a pained smile crossed Zuko’s face as he nodded.
“With the help of all four nations, the Avatar has brought the war to an end. And now, with the Avatar’s help, we can set our world back on the right path.”
The promise hung in the air, and the crowd did not stir, frozen in expectation as if a spell had been cast over them. Zuko felt the burn of thousands of eyes on his skin, and he set his shoulders. It was time.
The Fire Prince gave a short, sharp nod, and then to his right the Fire Sages ignited Azula’s bier. The fire instantly caught, drawn to the girl as deadly and beautiful as the flames she’d controlled. There was a sudden, collective intake of breath, and then the crowd bowed their heads as one, and Zuko lowered his too. But his somewhat elevated position still allowed him to see the flames, and Zuko watched transfixed as they danced higher and higher into the air, the beautifully lacquered wood of her coffin falling away under its touch. And as his eyes were drawn into the intense pulse of the fire, he thought he saw the shadows of two small children, playing on the beach.
She was your sister, Katara had said, and all of a sudden the reality came crashing down on him again, crushing his heart and stealing his breath. Azula. Azula, Azula. Azula the prodigy. Azula his nemesis. Azula his sister.
Oh Agni. And the tears burned at the very back of his eyes, ready to fall when he let them later. Because in the end, he’d known that she’d been as much a victim of the war and their father as anyone else. And with that memory something else stirred in the back of his mind, and he gazed at the bier as if gazing into the past.
Once, long ago, I knelt here as someone burned, he remembered distantly, and then his jaw tightened as he remembered the years that had followed.
This time, it will be different.
The roar of the flames filled the air, smoke carrying on the wind and sending fine ash soaring freely into the sky. Swift journey, Azula. May the Spirit World be kinder to you than ours. And Zuko stood up abruptly, centering all attention back to him as he spoke once more.
“Three days ago, I promised my uncle that I would restore the honour of the Fire Nation. And in front of you now, I promise you that I will fight and struggle until the last drop of my blood.”
Because Zuko never gives up. Not without a fight. And now, I don’t need to always remember who I am. I know.
“But I will need your help,” the words rung out clear and commanding, strong even as he bared his weakness in front of him. “It will take all of us to make the world whole. Not just the Fire Nation, not just the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes, but all of us. The war has divided us into nations, but the scars it has inflicted has also brought us together as people. People who have known suffering. But with the return of Aang, the Last Airbender, we have hope.”
He had them now. It was impossible, but there was no other way to describe the rapt attention, the shift in the air. For a moment, Zuko was struck with the irrepressible urge to lick his finger and turn it to the wind, just to feel it changing. But he instead swallowed down the tickle in his throat, the hoarseness that was beginning to develop.
I won’t let you down,
“The road ahead of us is challenging. A hundred years of fighting has left the world scarred and divided. But with the Avatar’s help, we can set it back on the right path.”
His voice roughened in his throat. “I won’t lie. It will be hard, Some might even think it impossible.” He thought of flashing, steel-blue eyes, and then the sudden swiftness of the hug, the sudden warmth of two hearts beating. He curled his fingers into a desperate fist, a prayer. “But we owe it to ourselves, and to the world, to try.”
There was a stunned, heady silence. In it, Zuko turned and walked like a statue, knelt before his captive audience and felt the footsteps of the Fire Sage behind him through his fingers on the carpet. The moment seemed to stretch out forever, and then the crown settled onto his head and with its weight came the crushing mantle of responsibility on his shoulders. Zuko almost fell as he rose slowly, his heart leaden in his chest and pumping out doubt around his bloodstream. I promised them honour. Me the banished, traitor prince. The exile. The one lucky to be born...
The enormity of all, the lives and the consequences now hanging around his neck like a millstone almost pulled him down to his knees again. But he struggled back to the stage front, each step an internal battle against doubt, fear, and despair because Zuko never gives up without a fight. And as he stared at the crowd, at his people, wondering what words of hatred were hidden in that silence, the burden finally bowed his head. Slowly, falteringly, slightly, Zuko lowered his neck down so little that one might have called it a mere inclination if they were ignorant of Fire Nation traditions. But the crowd saw it, his people saw it, and all of a sudden the words he had spoken coalesced from mere sentences into a tangible thing, a living dream that was as impossible as the fact that their Fire Lord was bowing to them and thus binding himself to them in service.
And so it was that as the red carpet at his feet blurred with tiredness and despair, Zuko heard someone cry out. And he jerked upwards in surprise, just in time to see the ocean of people and colours in front of him open their mouths and the tension that had bound them all suddenly erupt.
“FIRE LORD ZUKO! FIRE LORD ZUKO! HAIL! HAIL! FIRE LORD ZUKO!”
And far away Katara smiled and lifted her head, sipping a little on her own blood as she replied. “I am Katara of the Southern Water Tribes, daughter of Chief Hakoda and Kya!” and lifted her arms and brought them crashing down in time to the blood in his veins. And when he stumbled off the heap of broken things, his limbs nerveless under her grasp, she released him and pulled the water up around her. It danced to her song as she twisted her stance, the rope shawl fluttering against her shoulders, and then it arced out like tentacles, snatching Fire Nation insurgents into the air and tossing them into the river...
And even further away, Aang’s eyes glowed and Toph stepped back without seeing, without needing to know that his shouted “ENOUGH!” had brought everyone to a halt...
And the weight which had been crushing his soul suddenly lifted with the wave of awe and realisation, Agni, it’d worked. It’d worked! crescendoing in time with the crowd as they stamped their feet and roared their support to the sky. “FIRE LORD ZUKO! FIRE LORD ZUKO! HAIL! HAIL! FIRE LORD ZUKO!”
The chant reverberated in his ears and his body, working their way into the stone at his feet and the wind at his back. In response, Zuko stood fully, pulling himself up straight and setting his shoulders in a silent promise. I won’t let you down. And the people kept roaring, united briefly by the hope of something greater, something more whole than the hate they had glutted themselves on for so long, until the rivers winding through the Fire Nation themselves coursed to the thrum, the beat, the rhythm of the voices... even as further upstream Katara swept away the last insurgent and doused the flames of the village, and across the ocean Earth and Fire alike stilled to listen to the Avatar’s peace.
“FIRE LORD ZUKO! FIRE LORD ZUKO! HAIL! HAIL! FIRE LORD ZUKO!”
And although there was no way Zuko could possibly know either, and although there were surely still curses and screams of hatred mixed up in the overwhelming cry of the crowd, his sudden elation opened the floodgates and sent the song of his people rushing through his body in a giddy whirl of awe. And he could have laughed, he could have cried, but instead he stepped forwards, and then again and again as he walked from the shadow of overhanging palace roof into the light of Agni and his people, smiling like an idiot as hope burned into his heart.
And miles away in the heart of the Fire Nation, the rocky ground beneath the team of scouts sent to find a secret army suddenly reared up and swallowed them whole.
