Chapter 1: Welcome to IcePoint
Chapter Text
Yue
The Southern air was cold and crisp, and had a lingering smell of fish and smoke. The sky was somewhere between gray and white and blue and the sea below the ship was blue in a way that Yue could not quite describe.
It did not look like home.
She pulled her parka closer to her body, but it was merely an unconscious gesture. She had Tribal blood, she could stand the freezing temperatures of the south pole, as different as it might be. Her mother had once told her that the people of the North and South had ancestors that had been carved from ice. When others shied away from the cold, they embraced it. It was as natural to them as the earth and the sky. Withstanding the cold came as naturally as breathing.
Her ship eased closer to the dock, nestled easily between the carrier and military ships of the southernmost nation. They were formidable ships, not as ornate as those from her homeland but perfectly aligned with the rugged atmosphere of the land in which she would live for the next year. From her position at the bow, Yue saw a cluster of blue and violet standing on the platform, awaiting the arrival of the northerner. She squinted at the group, trying to discern features. Five of the eight people were soldiers, she could tell that from the spears strapped to their backs and their posture. One of the others was a girl, she was smaller and wore a skirt under her parka. A long braid was draped over her shoulder.
The metal ramp at the prow of the began to descend towards the platform and Yue gripped the railing, feeling the cold metal through her gloves. She wondered if she should feel excited, being in the south for the first time in her life, but no such emotion came. Her father had told her it was to become more in touch with their sister nation, it was necessary and a proper princess would take such a task with pride. Yue was not so foolish to believe him. That was part of it, yes, but she was sixteen, nearly a woman grown, and a proper Northern princess was not complete without a husband.
Yue would’ve preferred to be in the North, but she was a demure, dutiful, daughter and such daughters would not complain.
“Are you ready, Princess?" A voice over her shoulder caught her attention and Yue nodded without looking up. She could recognize the scratchy throat of old age even in her sleep. Yugoda, her nurse and confidant. The old woman had been at Yue's side since she was baby and Yue couldn't imagine being without the woman. "I know this seems unfair, but it's for our tribe. And you've never been a weak woman, Yue. Remember you have the spirit blood in you."
Yue turned to face Yugoda, seeing the elderly woman's face crease into a sad smile. When she was younger, Yue had loved hearing the story of her birth, as selfish as it seemed. She had been born with a patron spirit, Tui, the Koi fish that was her family's symbol. It had spared her life when she had been born still and breathless, touching her with its immense power and stirring life into her. Contact with the spirit had dyed her hair permanently white as a baby, causing her people to name her the Winter Princess. "Yes, Yue said, "I'm ready."
Yugoda took Yue's hand and the northern guards that accompanied them moved to their side. The old woman guided Yue down the ramp to the platform, towards the southerners that awaited them. As she placed her foot on the platform , Yue tugged her hand away. A true princess of the ice did not show uncertainty.
Two men and the girl broke away from the group and approached. The older man was tall and well-built, with dark skin and brown braids adorned with warrior beads. The other was perhaps a year younger than Yue and shared the same handsome looks with the older man- his father, though he had yet to grow in to them. The last of the trio was the girl. She seemed to be on the cusp of womanhood, her eyes large with an unusual combination of both curiosity and suspicion. Yue wondered if she and the girl would get along, if southern girls were like those in her homeland. She wondered if this girl would make her life in the south worse than it would already be.
"Princess Yue," The man addressed her and put his forearm across his chest in a salute to her. The clasp of his parka was carved in the shape of a Polar Bear Dog, the family symbol. "Welcome to our tribe. I am Chief Hakoda," he gestured to the younger boy, "This is my son, Sokka, and my daughter, Katara."
The chief's children seemed to study her, as unsure as she felt. Sokka, the son, was the first to soften his features and smile. His sister stared at Yue with scrutiny before grinning, as if deciding that this strange princess was welcome in her land. Yue's shoulders relaxed in relief.
Hakoda looked beyond her, at the sea, and Yue noted that he and Katara had the same eyes. "The guard will ensure that your possessions arrive to your rooms in the palace. You'll have to walk, the south doesn't have the luxury of canals to carry us everywhere in the city." Yue thought she heard something sharper in his voice, something like disdain and mockery but she wasn'tsure. She looked at the chief's children again and saw no signs of malice in their features. Perhaps, Yue thought, this year in the south would not be so bad. She prayed it would pass quickly all the same.
The chieftain's guards surrounded them as they moved off the platform and onto the hard-packed snow. Yue looked towards Yugoda, who smiled encouragingly. The northern princess stepped
closer to the southerners. Sokka looked at her. "You're welcome here," he said, "just wait until the evening feast, you'll see."
Katara nodded in affirmation. "Our dad told us you were coming a while ago," she said, "but we're not for much fanfare. But I suppose you already knew that."
Yue listened to the crunch of the snow and ice under her boots. The sharp smell of fish and meat was not so apparent anymore and Yue figured that perhaps they had left its source behind or her nose had simply gotten use to the scent. They walked for what felt like hours to her unaccustomed feet, but it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. It might’ve passed quicker on a sled or litter, but she refused to show any sign of discomfort.
The ice road before her opened and Yue looked up. Before her was the south's citadel, carved from ice and stone, weathered by countless winters. Its domed roofs and towers rose high, almost as large as the palace back home. It was gray and white against the blue sky, a harsh contrast that did not quite become an eyesore. It seemed to fit, Yue thought, in a strange way. Everything here seemed to favor practicality over beauty.
"Welcome to IcePoint," Sokka said. "In all it's frigid glory."
"Katara, " Hakoda said and his daughter turned to him. "Why don't you show Yue and her nurse to their chambers? Your brother and I will attend to another matter."
The young tribal princess nodded and as the massive entrance of the citadel opened, she gestured for Yue and the old woman to follow her. They passed through the main courtyard and into the palatial main building. She led them inside, her boots moving over the gray stone floor. She shed her parka as she walked, throwing it over her shoulders. Yue did the same, instead draping her coat over her forearm. Did they not have servants?
"Your chambers are across the courtyard…not that courtyard. The smaller one.” Katara explained as she led them around a corner, running her fingers along the smooth walls. "They're facing the moonrise, I thought you might like that."
"Yes," Yue admitted and she decided that IcePoint was well enough. The palace had none of the elegance of her home, none of the extravagance that the North was known for. The palace in the North was tiered and beautiful, sparkling when the sunlight hit the ice. This place, and the city surrounding it, had been built for necessity. She followed the younger girl as she led her through the breezeway and across a narrow courtyard lined with ice statues of Polar bear dogs and wolves.
Katara stopped before a door and pressed her hand against it. 'This the entrance to your chamber," she said, "your nurse can stay across the hall." she pointed before opening the doorof Yue's suite.
The first room was small and plain, with only a low table to fill it. Katara stepped through it and guided Yue to her bedroom. It was much larger in comparison, and Yue found that someone had taken the time to elaborately design the room. The room was royal blue and violet, almost circular, with white Koi fish dancing along the walls. The single window, as wide as Yue was tall, faced the open land beyond the citadel, exposing the snow and far beyond that, the mountains that lay in the center of the continent. Yue ran her hands along the wall, feeling her breath hitch. "It's lovely."
Katara shrugged, "It was partly Sokka's idea, especially the Koi fish. After Dad told us you were coming, he said we should try to make you feel welcome. It must be weird, so far away from home."
"I've traveled around the world to get here." Yue said and Katara raised her eyebrows incredulously. "It wasn't terrible, though. I spent most of the time learning about healing from Yugoda.” She knew more about chi and tourniquets and splints than she cared to admit.
At that, Katara seemed to listen. "You're a bender? "She asked and it was only then that Yue noticed the leather pouch at her hip. "You can waterbend?"
"No," Yue replied and the southerner seemed to deflate. "I take it that you are?”
"Yes! The only one in my family.” Katara exclaimed with pride and smiled, "my father is letting me learn combat bending like the warriors alongside healing. I heard that girls aren't allowed to learn how to fight in the north. "Is that true?"
Yue nodded and Katara pulled a face. "That's not fair, "she huffed, "We're just as capable. I’m nearly a master.” She made a spiraling gesture with her wrist and the water from her leather pouch slithered out, hovering in the air just above her hands.
Part of Yue felt as though she was watching something forbidden. To even consider teaching a girl to fight was wrong in the north and Yue had never questioned it. It was simply the way things were. The way they had always been. Even if she had been born a bender, her father would have never allowed her to do such a thing, touched by the waterbending moon spirit or not.
Katara guided the water back into her pouch and sealed it. “What's the north like?" She asked and sat on Yue's bed, smoothing out the wrinkles around her.
Yue considered her answer for a moment. "It's different, "she began, "It's...pleasing to the eye and to the spirit. Everything is done with aesthetics in mind. We have a lot of rituals and festivals for the spirits, especially in winter and summer. It's home." She shrugged, "sure, the roles are more traditional, girls can't fight and most marriages are arranged but...it's home."
"My parents had an arranged marriage," Katara said, "kind of. My grandparents arranged for them to meet each other, because everyone knew they would fall in love." Her face seemed to fall. "According to what I've been told. My mother died when I was little.”
That explained why Yue had not seen the chief's wife. "I'm sorry," she said and wondered if Katara resembled her mother as much as she did her father, whoever she might have been.
Katara touched a leather choker at her neck, brushing the stone pendant. Yue figured that it had been her mother's. It was clearly a betrothal necklace, carved in the northern style. A northerner? "It's okay. There were a lot of women to take her place, like my grandmother and the other elders. We're Polar Bear Dogs, we're a pack, we stick together."
Yue reached for Katara's hand, taking note of the differing shades of brown. The undertone of her skin was warmer than the other girl’s, ocher compared to sepia. Her nails were long and carefully shaped, as opposed to the nonchalant filing on Katara's. "Care to show me around IcePoint?"
The younger tribal princess looked up and stood. "Of course!" She beamed. “You’d might as well get familiar with it now. Let’s start before the feast. You have to see the height of IcePoint and then the kennels!” At Yue’s confusion she barreled on, “A polar dog just had a new litter, you can pick one out if you'd like. You'll be here long enough to see it grow up."
Yue was not particularly fond of polar dogs, but she agreed nonetheless. It would behoove her to acclimate to the queer ways of her sister nation. The year would not be so long, she told herself, it would not be so long.
Chapter 2: The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe
Chapter Text
Hakoda
The phoenix insignia screamed against the parchment, audacious red and orange against the smooth, pale yellow.
Hakoda stared at the parchment, feeling his son's gaze on him. Sokka could not quite see over his shoulder and for that he was grateful. The man had never been able to school his features into nonchalance. He wore his thoughts on his countenance and in his eyes. He looked up. Across the room, his confidant Bato watched his face.
"What does it say?"
The house of Sozin of the Fire Nation encompassed most of the known world in a polity best described as a tightening noose, though the dynasty itself had splintered into two separate branches twenty years ago. The Crown Prince Iroh had been killed and his young son had been forced into exile into some unknown place. Most people figured the child was long dead, slain in the dark , his significance remembered only by those who had supported his father. The current leader of the house and lord of the burgeoning empire was the Crown Prince's brother, Ozai.
It was his symbol that Hakoda now saw, a phoenix rising from its ashes to fly once more. Hakoda thought there was some irony in it all, that a phoenix must destroy its own family to come into power.
"A modest proposal," He answered sardonically and Sokka leaned closer to him, "the king wants us to join him in a more permanent alliance." He looked at the letter as he spoke, the black characters beginning to blur and melt together. "So that we can mutually benefit. Ah, correction, so that we may continue to benefit each other. Ozai is willing to network and facilitate a vital trade route in the south pole, in exchange for the right to use our land for spiritual purposes."
Sokka scoffed. "What are firebenders going to do in the ice? What kind of spirits are they trying to worship?"
Hakoda frowned. "I imagine they want to do more than worship," he said and he could see the rapid thoughts flashing across his son's face. "Once they get a foot in the south, they'll want to take it for good." The Tribe had managed to evade the advancing efforts of the Fire Nation to strategically and politically overtake them, and for the most part they had been left in peace. He had never seen Ozai, but Hakoda figured that he was a man who knew the stories of the known world just as well as any other, of the spirit-gods of the ice and the earth.
"He'd make the south pole into a province," Sokka snarled and a scowl crossed his features, "and make us dependent on his trade. He’d cripple us. Like the airbenders."
The four main nations of the known world existed in relative harmony and while technically connected, they thrived on their own. They had once been separate entities, but many years ago, the Fire Nation had begun a concerted effort to bring them all under a singular banner. They were wise to move slowly, Hakoda was loath to admit, winning the nations over with the quill rather than the sword. The Water Tribes occupied the poles, and massive sprawl of the Earth Kingdoms lay in between. The nomadic airbenders were the only nation that had been nearly swept up in the Fire Nation's trade monopoly.
"You're going to say no, right?" Sokka asked and Hakoda thought that he resembled his mother when he furrowed his brow. Sokka had Kya's eyes and expression, and sometimes Hakoda heard him say things that reminded painfully him of his wife. He had determined long ago that his children were more Kya than they were him.
" A Polar Bear Dog does not bend to the will of a bird," Hakoda said and his son nodded. "Enough of this. Now, go find your sister and Princess Yue...and Sokka, don't try to woo the princess."
Sokka let out a dramatized sigh and left the room with flourish. Hakoda watched as he disappeared and then exhaled. He had agreed to accept the Northern Water Tribe princess as his ward for a year, mostly as a political agreement and partly for his daughter to have someone close to her age. The ulterior motives had been clear enough. Yue was unbetrothed and Sokka was of an age where he was eligible and a worthy match. Hakoda had laughed. The girl would not survive a life without her luxuries and her litters. Those of the South were of a different sort. Nevertheless he figured she would adjust to the south soon enough and the year would go by smoothly.
"The phoenix is not just a bird," Bato hummed, breaking Hakoda's pattern of thoughts. "Ozai killed his own brother for the throne. We have seen time and time again what he is capable of. I would advise you to tread lightly.” He came to the chief’s side and picked up the letter, pursing his lips as he read.
Hakoda tore the letter from his hands and tossed it aside carelessly on his desk. "Dragons may flinch under a phoenix's talons but we do not," he said, "I do not fear Ozai, no matter how many of his brothers and nephews he may have killed. I will tell him of my refusal and that will be the end of it."
Bato nodded in resignation and Hakoda stood, pulling his cloak over his shoulders. "You must finish preparing for the evening feast," the chief’s advisor went on, gracious enough to keep the peace. A sparkle of amusement came into his eyes. "We wouldn't want the princess to think that our chief is ill-prepared. You’ve soured her already by making her walk.”
The southern chief shook his head and suppressed a laugh of his own. “I've come to realize that all northerners think we're primitive when it comes to culture, but I'm sure our new guest will come to think otherwise." Hakoda had visited the north pole in his adolescence and while he had thought them to be socially backwards with their strict gender rules and traditions, the south would seem just as odd to Yue. His people were not quite as wealthy nor were their structures as beautiful, but they had survived war and famine, had endured disease and death. The South, through it all, will stand.
Hakoda exited the chamber and strode towards the wing of IcePoint’s keep where the kitchen lay. They had always given the leftovers to the people of the street, a gesture that Hakoda's mother had started when she had been the chief's wife. Hakoda had made a point of making his children participate in giving away the leftovers.
Because one day, Hakoda thought, they would need the city and the South Pole to know and love them.
The kitchens smelled of smoked fish and steamed imported vegetables. Hakoda inhaled deeply as he stepped among the chaos of the preparations, dodging servants and chefs alike. There was the clatter of plates and a serving boy nearly stumbled into him as he carried bowls and plates to the dining hall, mumbling half hearted apologies without considering to whom he was speaking. Hakoda steadied him and instead backed away, allowing the workers to finish their preparation.
"I still don't understand why the Princess's hair is white," Bato said as he trailed Hakoda. "I've never seen white hair on someone so young. She can't be more than sixteen or seventeen."
Hakoda waved his hand. "The mysterious work of the spirits," he replied, “according to her father.” He did not dare question the things that he did not understand. "The moon spirit saw fit to bless her."
Bato seemed satisfied with his answer, or lack thereof, and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He was a tall and lanky man, with a long face and aquiline nose. He was unflinchingly loyal Hakoda who was his chief and dearest friend. "Remarkable," he deadpanned and made move to continue, but as he opened his mouth, there was a commotion from the next hall.
Hakoda darted towards the noise, turning the corner sharply. He put one hand on his bone dagger. The keep might be heavily guarded and fortified, but he was a warrior first and foremost. As he did so, a mass of gray and white barreled him over, laying him flat onto the floor. Round, large paws pressed against his chest and a flat tongue scraped against his cheek. Hakoda looked up into the face of a polar dog, who looked down at him gleefully.
A girl's hands pulled the young dog off of him and Hakoda saw his daughter cradling the squirming pup to her chest, looking at him apologetically. "Dad! Sorry!" She said, "he ran away before we could catch him." She held the pup up as Hakoda pushed himself to his feet and he saw that it was one of the new younglings from the most recent litter, only five weeks old but already large enough to bowl a man over. A well-bred litter, perhaps one of the best yet.
Behind her came Sokka and the Princess Yue. Sokka held a thin rope leash attached to another polar dog, just as large but not nearly as wild. Sokka made a clicking noise and the gray and white pup wriggled from Katara's arms and trotted over to him. "Desna," he admonished as the puppy pressed his nose into his boot. Sokka passed the rope leash to Yue, who accepted it tentatively.
The little female at the end of the leash sat neatly next to Yue and Hakoda concluded that it was hers. Katara grinned. "Yue picked her out on her own."
Hakoda nodded. He surmised the other was Sokka's, even though his children had several other polar dogs. They had made a habit of selecting a pup from a litter, introducing it to their "pack". Desna, Hakoda figured, was merely the newest addition. "You should start preparing for this evening," he said to them, "it'll be a public feast."
As the teenagers continued down the hall, Bato shook his head at Hakoda. "You spoiled those two," he chuckled, "you let them run around IcePoint with all kinds of animals and weapons, and you let your daughter fight with men."
The Water Tribe chief scoffed. "That hardly counts as spoiled. They're true tribal children, they embraced every aspect of being Water Tribe. They were raised in the way that we were, like the ancestors" He reached into the folds of his tunic, and sheathed the dagger once more. "I see nothing wrong with carrying a weapon, and Katara is just as much of a warrior as the men. You sound like a northerner with that argument." He had allowed Katara and Sokka to have relative freedom as children, much to the chagrin of some of the more traditional nurses. Sokka was both a scholar and a warrior, and Katara had never been content to wait for a husband to return from the hunt.
Bato shrugged. "You Polar Bear Dogs won't be tamed," he muttered and Hakoda agreed.
It was hours later when the doors to Icepoint's dining hall were thrown open. First arrived the esteemed elders and their families, sitting at the tables closest to the center table. Merchants were next and then the common people of the city surrounding the fortification, filling in the open space in the dining hall's pavilion. They were dressed in their finest, deepest blue clothes, having prepared for the feast just as much as the citadel servants had. Guards mingled among them, hands just near their bone daggers or knives, eyes watchful.
Hakoda saw Sokka among them from where he stood at the inside entrance of the dining hall. His son was a warrior before he was a prince, and had insisted on helping protect the hall. He wore his official cloak, adorned with their symbol and Hakoda knew that if anyone wanted to attack the prince, he would be an easy target. Hakoda had no such fear, however, because everyone knew that he would have no qualms about killing anyone who dared harm his children.
"There's so many people," Hakoda heard Princess Yue say to Katara behind him. "When we had feasts, only nobility dined with us on the first tier of the palace." He looked over his shoulder at the two and then turned back to face the crowd. He strode towards the center table, followed by the girls and Yue's nurse, Yugoda.
The warriors began to howl in an imitation of the wolves and polar bear dogs of the south and he howled back at them before saluting the elders. Among them was his mother, Kanna. She had come from the north alone, traveling through strange lands with only a sword and necklace from a broken marital engagement. Hakoda once remembered his father saying that he had never seen a woman as beautiful and peculiar and strong as Kanna.
Kya came close, Hakoda thought.
Yugoda made a sharp sound and Hakoda turned quickly, along with the closest warriors. He prepared to pull the princesses away, only to see that the old woman had rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Kanna, her face pressed into her hair.
Hakoda sat and nearly laughed aloud as he took his seat at the center table and his daughter and the other princess followed suit. "It seems as though my mother and your nurse were once friends in the north," he explained to the Northern princess.
Both Katara and Yue looked surprised and the two older women chuckled. Hakoda found he was not particularly interested in the anecdotes of elderly women at the moment, turning his attentions elsewhere.
Kanna may have been a northerner in her youth but her eyes were the watchful ones of a polar bear dog. She met Hakoda's gaze, reaching out to grasp his hand, and mouthed: what troubles you?
The phoenix, he answered and he saw the realization rippling over her face. Hakoda promised her he would explain later and his mother nodded.
Sokka weaved through the crowd and sat between Katara and their father. He set his boomerang on the table and Katara made a disapproving noise. When Sokka had turned twelve, Hakoda had allowed him to own his first weapon. The boy had chosen a boomerang, a choice that had made Hakoda raise his brows, but he was a natural. "I'm starving!"
"You're always hungry," Katara teased and Hakoda shot a warning glance at both of his children. They would not bicker at the welcoming feast, he warned them and they shrunk back into their seats.
"Well I’ve have you know that I'm a growing boy," Sokka snapped and Hakoda glared at his son. Across the table, the Princess Yue giggled.
Hakoda rose and the dining hall fell silent. Hundreds of eyes rose to stare at him, various shades of blue and the occasional brown or gray. "My brothers and sisters," he began and looked to the elders, “my mothers and fathers. We feast and celebrate tonight for the arrival of Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe. She will spend a year amongst us and we welcome her tonight," he gestured to the princess. "We are the people of the snow and of the ice, of the north and south," he was reminded of the letter and its blaring symbol, and its demands and he looked out at his people. "And the South will stand!"
The warriors threw back their heads and howled. Beside him, Sokka and Katara joined. They were true children of the south and he knew that Kya would be proud of him, and of their children. Yue sat abashedly to the side, caught unaware of the cacophony of noise that came along with a southern celebration.
The cooks began to pass the plates to the tables, followed by the large trays that had been loaded with the foods. Among the meats were arctic-oxen and smoked fish stew, alongside fruits imported from parts of the closest Earth Kingdom.
Hakoda piled food onto his place and spoon stew into his bowl. Sokka devoured his food while Katara ate slower, watching her brother with her eyes narrowed in disdain. The northern princess watched them all, as if unsure of her behavior.
"I was informed that you have a brother back in the north," Hakoda said to the princess and she nodded demurely. "Is he older than you?"
She shook her head and the ornament in her white braids gleamed in the light. "No, Kuruk is six. He would've been here instead, but my father wanted him to begin training. He's going to be the next chief." She smiled in a thin way that did not reach her eyes, "My parents waited ten years for a son to inherit the North, they wouldn't want to part with him so quickly." There was a pang of bitterness there, though it seemed to stem more from homesickness than envy.
It was an unspoken agreement that a woman could not become chief, not even in the Southern Water Tribe. Katara had once angrily questioned him as a child, though Hakoda had no answer for her. There were things that were to be questioned and things that were not, there were simply things that were.
There were things that Hakoda knew to be true and there were things that were as certain as the blood in his veins. He knew the south and the Southern Water Tribe would stand, and that no phoenix - no bird- could ever make it bend to his will.
Chapter 3: Listening
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
"You will still marry me, yes?" The woman tapped impatiently on his shoulder, snapping his concentration. She looked at him expectantly, the red paint on her face drawing out her wide brown eyes. "Before the sun and the sunrise?"
He looked at her. By Sun People standards, she was lovely. She was thick of body yet shapely, with brown hair cascading down her back, except for the sides of her head which had been shaved, and deeply sun-browned skin. "I will marry you," he said and turned back to sharpening his knife, "as sure as the sun rises. But now, Yaretzi, I must work." He turned back to sharpening his dagger and the machete at his side that was used to hack at the undergrowth of the jungle.
Yaretzi watched him and he tried to avoid the heat of her gaze. She was younger than him, no more than seventeen summers, and he had remembered that she had always wandered after him as a child. He had declared he would marry her a year before and she hadn’t stopped asking for reassurance since. "But perhaps the sun does not rise anymore?" She asked and tucked her legs under her, reaching for his knife and holding it out in front of her with a critical eye. "This isn't sharp enough. However are you supposed to be a warrior with a dull knife like this?"
"The sun will always rise,” he grumbled. "What do you want, Yaretzi?" He asked and snatched the blade back, wrinkling his nose in frustration. He saw her nostrils flare and her jaw set, and found himself regretting his harsh tone. "Why are you questioning me?" He inquired more softly, patting her knee.
The young woman gestured upwards, to the massive rock structures towering over their village. "I heard the dragons," she whispered. "This morning as the sun rose, I heard them roar." As if reading the disbelief on his features, Yaretzi snorted indignantly. "I heard them."
"I imagine you did," he said and he did not doubt her. No one outside of their village knew of the existence of dragons, just as no one knew of the Sun People. The dragons of the Twin Caves were often silent for months on end before returning to the valley in which they hunted. "They will go on a great hunt, soon. It’s almost that time of year.”
Yaretzi's brown eyes met his. The elders said he had captured the sunrise in his eyes as a baby, coloring them gold. "Maybe you can follow them, to prove you are truly a Sun Warrior. Then we can marry, as sure as the sun rises."
Lu-Ten held up his knife and examined it. "I'm a Sun Warrior and a Person of the Sun just as much as you," he said, sharper than he expected. He thrust his hand under her face, "my skin is paler, but our blood is the same. That has been proven, I am a Sun Warrior as sure as the sun rises. And besides, where would I follow them to?” He rose from his crouching position and slid his blade into its sheath, wrapping the machete in a thick cloth.
"Yaretzi!" A woman called and Lu-Ten saw Yaretzi's mother approaching them. She had her youngest child swaddled against her chest, a boy that was born the summer before. "I've been looking for you." She snatched Yaretzi by her arm and pulled her backwards. Tuwa was a woman who must have been just as pretty as her daughter in her youth, but her face was almost perpetually locked in a scowl. The young woman squealed. "Don't be a nuisance, besides you have somewhere else to be."
Tuwa was everyone's mother. She had borne several children, including Yaretzi and the baby, but she was known throughout the valley as a renowned healer. The flames she produced from her hands had a way of comfort and healing that Lu-Ten had experienced several times as a child. He dipped his head to her and Tuwa made a clicking noise with her tongue. "I'm certain Yaretzi has been harassing you all this time because she's been trying to avoid cleaning the temple."
Yaretzi made an indignant sound. "I wanted to make sure Lu-Ten would still marry me," she huffed and Tuwa looked over her daughter's head at him.
Tuwa pulled a face and jerked her head. "Go attend to your duties," she ordered, swatting at her daughter and Yaretzi set off towards the part of the surrounding jungle where their temple of worship was hidden. She watched the girl and then turned back to Lu-Ten. "She's a persistent girl. I suppose she has told you that she heard the dragons?"
Lu-Ten nodded.
" Of course she did,” Yaretzi’s mother rolled her eyes. She made an obscene gesture that reflected her exasperation. “Well, I spoke with the spirits of the sky," Tuwa went on, "and they told me that their emergence is a sign. They said the dragon will take the skies again and bring a new age." She eyed him curiously.
For a moment, Lu-Ten found his thoughts consumed by memories of a man lifting him from his bed and carrying him to a boat, of reaching out desperately for the same man, who slapped his hand away and smiled. For a long time, he had wondered if it was a bad dream.
The next moment he felt anger.
"I've been a Person of the Sun for twenty years, Tuwa. My family left power when my father died, what new age could I bring? For the past few weeks I have heard nothing but signs and portents and dreams!” He moved to step away from her and Tuwa caught his hand. "I am no dragon."
Tuwa nodded. "Perhaps that is so," she said. Her child began to whimper and she patted his fuzzy head. “Nevertheless go to the temple at sunset," she told Lu-Ten, "and listen." She turned from him and Lu-Ten watched her walk away, grinding his teeth. She had once been an attendant to the Sun Temple, like Yaretzi, but she had long since become a healer and firebending trainer, and a matron for many. He respected her despite her belligerent tongue.
She had been one of the first to teach him the ways of the Sun People when he was three years old. He had cried for many days, he remembered, and she had held him and attended to his scratches. She had taught him how to show thanks to Agni, the great spirit-god of the sky, and showed him the healing powers of firebending. She had raised him in her home with her own children. She was, like the rest of the Sun People, his family.
There was a whooping shout and Lu-Ten caught sight of the warriors gathering with their bows and spears. At the front, he saw Tonatiuh, the chief of the Sun People. He was young to be the chief, only thirty summers, but had proven his strength and passion. Lu-Ten had aspired to be like Tonatiuh as a child, though as he grew older he found him to be more of a brother than an idol.
As Lu-Ten jogged over to join them, Tonatiuh turned and flashed a bold, white grin. He reached behind him and tossed a spear to Lu-Ten, laughing as he caught it. "I thought perhaps we would have to leave you behind," he said. " We're going to look for signs of the leopon. I've been told they lurk close by. Normally they stay deeper into the jungle.”
Lu-Ten nodded and playfully shoved another of the hunters, a small man called Lallo. He was another of Tuwa's children and the same age as Lu-Ten. "I bet it's ten times bigger than you, Lallo."
The shorter man pulled a face. "Perhaps," he said and chuckled, pushing Lu-Ten back a step. "But sometimes the ant can bring down the beast. I’ve taken you down plenty of times.”
"An ant can fell a beast with an army," Tonatiuh said as he stepped closer to them. He was a tall man, taller even than Lu-Ten, and broad. His head was mostly shaven, save for the black hair bound into a knot and his scalp was adorned in red ocher tattoos. "An ant cannot survive without its family, like we Sun Warriors can't survive without our people." He grinned, "let's find the leopon."
They fell into formation, Tonatiuh at the lead with his blood brother and closest friend on either side of him. Lu-Ten fell in behind them with Lallo and the younger or less successful warriors followed suit. They jogged towards the main exit of the city complex, falling in step with each other.
The jungle outside of their city was unforgiving to outsiders. Sun People legend claimed that the first Sun Warriors could hear the voices of the jungle and learned to adapt to them, before learning from the dragons about the universe. Lu-Ten figured that it would seem odd and dangerous to an outsider, especially ones who did not understand the feeling of the ground and trees and the wind against their skin. Lu-Ten did not remember anything but the jungle and the Sun People ziggurat, and the city built around it.
"Mother told me about Yaretzi," Lallo clicked his tongue and looked up at Lu-Ten. "She said that Yaretzi felt she was old enough to finally be married, and you had promised her it would be this year.” He chuckled, "she even asked for my approval."
Lu-Ten laughed at the same time he exhaled. "I told her I would marry her as sure as the sun rises and I intend to keep my promise." Lu-Ten had never felt particularly inclined to wed early but Yaretzi was a fine enough woman, despite her idiosyncrasies, and many men would be honored to have such a beautiful bride. Their nuptials would be in name only. He felt the soft, cool earth under his feet and the slight tickle of undergrowth against his legs. "Then we will truly be brothers."
Lallo made a sound of agreement. He called out to Tonatiuh, up ahead of them. "You'll have to lead us into another hunting rite soon, Tonatiuh, Lu-Ten here will be married."
The chief looked back at them, not slowing his pace. "So I have heard," he grinned, "Perhaps this leopon should be used for your wedding robe. Or maybe some other beast." Tonatiuh's own wedding cloak had been a fine tiger gorilla, a large creature that prowled the jungle floor and trees. His wedding had been one of the grandest ones that Lu-Ten remembered, Tonatiuh had wed a beautiful woman on an auspicious day and the entire city had celebrated.
The hunting party separated into groups of twos and threes. Lu-Ten turned his feet to the east and slowed into a creep, hearing the sounds of the dense forest around him. There were many shades of green in the jungle, and the terrain was permeated by pockets of moss and kudzu that crept up the massive trees. There other colors, like the murky blue of the rivers and creeks and the resplendent orange of the tiger ferns, but Lu-Ten found that green, above all, was the most abundant.
He crept forward, brushing aside a massive fern. The soft earth shifted under his feet and Lu-Ten began to listen. He listened to the song of birds and insects, to the yips and shouts of rat monkeys in the trees above him.
When Lu-Ten listened closer, however, he thought he could just barely make out the sound of hooves crushing grass.
Lallo slithered by him and disappeared into the undergrowth, sliding underneath the upraised roots of a cypress. Lu-Ten followed, moving into place beside his friend. Lallo pointed and through the dense green of the vegetation, Lu-Ten saw a thick bodied creature covered in brown and black rosettes.
"The leopon," Lallo whispered and Lu-Ten caught sight of the massive creature. It was truly huge and feline, its golden brown fur spotted with rosettes and its huge muscles coiled under its coat. Its tail lashed like a whip.
Unlike the rest of the ground dwelling animals, the leopon did not have to camouflage. Afterall, who would dare challenge such a beast?
The leopon lashed its great tail and growled deep in its throat. Lu-Ten clutched his spear and prepared to move, but Lallo pulled him back. "One does not simply attack a leopon ," he whispered fiercely. "The leopon is the king of the forest floor, idiot. You’ll get yourself killed!”
Lu-Ten lowered his spear and considered Lallo's words. There would be the chance that he missed and the leopon would attack; without the help of the others they would surely be killed. After a pause, he conceded. "We'll set a trap near its den."
Lallo agreed and eased backwards through the grass and the dirt and the ferns. He straightened and used his spearhead to carve a deep mark in the tree's trunk. "The leopon lurks here, so we know its den is nearby. We can set traps first thing in the morning."
Lu-Ten thought he heard the heavy snap of twigs behind them as they continued through the forest. "We could catch some fruit monkeys," he said, "so we won't return empty handed."
His shorter companion made no comment, but instead pointed upward to the tree branches. A small group of fruit monkeys perched on them, devouring the rich red fruit of the trees they inhabited. They seemed unsuspecting, caught up in eating and Lu-Ten wondered if it was truly right to attack them.
Every life had a beginning and end, he thought, some must die so others may live. The Sun Warriors had taught him this.
Lu-Ten raised his spear and steadied his arm, aiming for the largest fruit monkey. He looked at Lallo, who had aimed at another. Lu-Ten hurled the spear, watching as it met its mark. The fruit monkey fell towards the earth and he dove to catch it.
The fruit monkey was snapped up in a set of massive jaws, wrenched from the spear. The other fruit monkeys scattered and the beast roared, turning to face Lu-Ten. He found himself staring into large amber eyes, eyes both predatory and intelligent. Lu-Ten lowered his gaze and the leopon growled before springing away, back into the trees with a flick of its thick tail.
Lallo cursed and laughed at the same time. "He's challenged you, you must hunt him now," he said and retrieved their spears. "He said there can only be one hunter." He sighed, "I suppose we'll just have to have Tuwa's soup tonight."
Lu-Ten nodded absently and looked up through the tree canopy. The sky was beginning to become a stained red as the sun began to set, sending bloody streaks through the fading blue sky. He remembered what Tuwa had told him to do. "I have to go to the temple," he burst out and before Lallo could respond, he took off through the thick of the forest to the ziggurat betwixt two streams.
The Sun Temple was the greatest of all the buildings. It had been created millennia ago, cut from stone and carefully laid together until the structure burst through the tree tops. Lu-Ten approached the base of it, which extended far into the forest. He saw the dark gray stone blocks settled into the earth and the stone steps that led into the temple.
He took off his sandals and stepped onto the first stair, feeling the coolness of the rock course up through him. The area surrounding the temple was cool and dark, and quiet and Lu-Ten wondered how the temple attendants could stand the eerie feeling of it all.
He walked up the steps and bowed his head as he entered the first chamber of the temple. In the dark corners, he saw eyes that had been carved in the wall and inlaid with gold so that they glittered in the light. Lu-Ten conjured a flame from his hand and flashed the light over the room.
In the center of the chamber stood two statues. The first was off a tall and powerful man, with a dragon wrapped around his shoulders, its whiskers brushing his jaw. He was the Father of the Sun Warriors, Tenochizun and the protector of the jungle. Beside him was the Mother, Citlali, who protected the sky and the stars and loved the dragons. Lu-Ten dropped into a kowtow, feeling their stone gaze bore into him.
He approached Tenochizun and used his bending to light the wicker that served as the dragon's tongue. The stone dragon's mouth came alight and Lu-Ten saw the intricate details of its snout and Tenochizun's face. He went next to Citlali and lit the bowl in her hands and the wreath in her hair. They flared and the chambers darkest corners became dimly lit.
Lu-Ten laid his head at the Mother's feet and closed his eyes. He exhaled and let his muscles relax, instead feeling only the cool stone beneath him and the warmth of the fire above him.
And then, Lu-Ten began to listen.
Tenochizun and Citlali came to life, calling his name. Tenochizun sounded every bit like a Father and Citlali's voice seemed to encompass everything lovely in the world. He felt their voices glide over his skin like water, dancing across his muscles and his bones until it pierced his very core.
"You are a Sun Warrior," said Tenochizun.
"You are the dragon," said Citlali.
"You have the ancestors of the Sun People and of the Fire Nation in your veins," They said together, voices covering him in warmth, "twenty years ago, a great injustice was done to you. You must embrace your right as the Lord of the Fire Nation and win back your throne. Make this earth once again a world for gods." Their voices became entwined until Lu-Ten could not tell them apart, until they became one omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent entity. "It is your right."
The dragon roared and Lu-Ten felt and saw it more than he heard it. It rattled his bones and chilled his blood, and he clenched his teeth. Lu-Ten cried out for mercy and dug his nails into the stone, curling up into a ball.
Then there was silence.
Lu-Ten opened his eyes, finding only darkness around him. The fire had winked out, leaving only a thin tendril of smoke from each of the statues. He pushed himself into a sitting position and held his head in his hands. Tuwa had not told him that listening would be so taxing and painful. He stood and staggered toward the exit, catching sight of a small flame.
Yaretzi sat at the entrance of the temple, gazing out into the forest. Her knees were drawn up and she hugged herself, chin tucked in. Lu-Ten wondered how long she had been waiting. As he stepped out beside her, she looked up. "Mother told me to wait for you," she admitted and rose, dusting off her skirt. "She said you might need someone. What did you hear?”
"The spirits said I must make the world for the gods," he breathed before he could catch himself. Yaretzi's brown eyes did not seem confused or alarmed, but instead were understanding and aged, and for a brief moment Lu-Ten forgot she was only seventeen. "I don't know what that means."
The girl pushed his sandals towards him. "I know," she said, "it means that the thing taken away from you will be given back. That thing is your destiny. You are a Sun Warrior, but you are something else, too. You will get what you deserve, as sure as the sun rises." She took his hand and smiled gently, "let's get home."
Chapter 4: The Village
Chapter Text
Katara
"Fetch, Aga!" Katara shouted and used her bending to hurl the ice disk across the courtyard. She watched as the large polar dog dashed after the disk, leaping into the air and grabbing it with her teeth. "Bring it back!"
Aga was one of the first dogs her father had allowed them to raise and the newest litter had been hers, including Sokka's new pet Desna. Katara had always liked Aga the best, she was quiet and often trailed after her, laying her head in Katara's lap. Ever since her birth the dog had been loyal to her, sharing a devotion that few handlers would ever find in their polar dogs.
The black and white arctic canine brought the ice disk back to Katara and dropped it at her feet. She swished her tail and let out a yip, moving in circles around Katara's legs. The princess reached down to ruffle the dog behind the ears, squealing out affectionate gibberish that caused Aga to wiggle even more. Katara heard the crunch of snow behind her and turned to see Princess Yue picking her away across the courtyard, pulled by her own pup.
Katara liked Yue. She was docile and quiet, traits that Katara had never been able to acquire, and kind. In the three weeks that she had been in the Southern Water Tribe, she had taken up helping in the local infirmary.
"I thought you said she was the gentle one of the litter," Yue said and pulled hard on the white pup's leash, only to be dragged forward. "She's always dragging me around." She let go of the leash and the pup raced over to her mother.
The southern girl shrugged. "Let her walk free," she said, "She's a hunting animal, not an accessory. You don't have polar dogs up north?"
Yue shrugged. "They're much smaller, and I never had one," Katara thought that the North was stranger than she originally assumed. "I think Tui can tell I'm nervous."
Katara clicked her tongue and both Aga and Tui trotted over to her. She undid the rope leash and tossed it aside, ruffling Tui's ears. She was of a good line, built for pulling sleds or scouting long distances. Someone would've paid a good price for her. "Probably," she said, kneeling, and Tui put her paws on her knee. "You've had her for three weeks and you haven't gotten to know her yet." She reached next for Aga, who licked her affectionately. "I've had Aga for four years, since she was a pup."
The northern princess nodded slowly. She knelt down and imitated the same clicking noise that Katara had used earlier. It sounded odd, but Katara figured it would improve. "Come here, Tui."
The white pup looked at Yue and wagged her tail, as if amused. She trotted over to the princess and wagged her tail, sniffing her boot. Katara grinned. "See, she does like you. You just have to prove that you’re worthy of her obedience.”
With a sweep of her hand, Katara formed another ice disk. She extended it to Yue, watching as the white-haired princess accepted it with her delicate, gloved hands. Katara thought that Yue was very beautiful. She was tall and slender, with soft brown features and pure white hair pinned up in elaborate braids. Her eyes were blue and wide, almost as round as the moon.
"Tell her to fetch," she suggested and watched as Yue flung the ice disk across the courtyard. Tui dashed after it, leaping into the air and crunching the ice between her teeth. Katara laughed. "It was a good start."
Yue nodded and called the polar dog back to her. Katara stood and gestured for Aga to follow her back to her nest. "Do you actually hunt with the dogs you keep?"
"Well Sokka does because he's older," Katara explained, "Aga isn't much of a hunter or a sled dog, though. She’s built for it but doesn’t have the drive." She felt the dog's head bump into her. "Desna is going to be the next hunting one, when Amarok gets old." Where Aga was Katara's favorite, Amarok was Sokka's. "Have you ever been hunting?"
The older princess shook her head. Figured. "Girls aren't allowed to where I'm from," she explained. "That's a man's task, not a woman's."
Katara pulled a face. How many times was she going to hear that sentence? “It's the same here, in a way. Girls aren't allowed to go on big hunts, but we can fish and trap," she prattled on, "just because my family is royalty doesn't mean we're above the others. We just had prosperous ancestors." Her father had always told her that what the spirit-gods gave, they could also take away. They didn't just believe in the spirit-gods, they feared.
When Aga was carefully returned to her nest and the kennels were secured, Katara led Yue back to the entrance into their stronghold. "I'm supposed to be helping the village just east of IcePoint, do you want to come? It’s less than an hour’s ride.” She had been told that her mother used to do the same, though Katara didn't remember.
Yue nodded and Katara led her through the stone and ice halls of IcePoint. When the sun was at its zenith in the summer, it would reflect light through the ceilings and into the halls, something that Katara had always found to be very lovely. The halls on the southern wing, however, were often empty and quiet. Katara remembered chasing Sokka through the halls as children, screeching in laughter. She remembered a woman who must've been her mother waiting to scoop them up in her arms, a half hearted reprimand on her lips.
Kya, her mother, had died when Katara was four and Sokka was five. Katara only had a vague recollection of her, a sketch that was brought to life by the stories and memories that her family gave her. According to her father, her mother had been wild (she had sometimes gone hunting with the men) and beautiful. According to Gran-Gran, her mother had been peculiar but compassionate, always helping people who were less fortunate. And Bato had told her that Kya could wrestle an arctic leopard into submission when she was angry.
As a child, Katara had imagined that her mother would come back and see how she had grown. Her nurses had told her that it was wrong to speak of bringing back the dead. Sokka, who was more fueled by logic than she, told her that it was impossible anyway. What was dead was gone, and the living would breathe on.
They entered the main halls. There were servants wandering about and a few warriors that Katara recognized as Sokka's companions. One of them caught sight of her and grinned. "There's the littlest princess," he said and Katara rolled her eyes. He had always teased her as a child, calling her "girl-boy" and "otterface" when she tried to join the boys in their games and Katara had only called him "Yak" for his bullish nature.
The older boy stood before them, leaning against the wall. "You know, I haven't seen you in a while, where’ve you been hiding?” He turned his gaze to Yue, "and I haven't seen you at all."
"Because Yue is the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe and she doesn't have time for underachieving warriors." She instantly began to regret her words, wincing as they seemed to fall harshly from her lips and shatter against the floor. She bit her bottom lip.
Yak raised his brows and seemed more amused than offended. He saluted Yue, "A beautiful woman indeed," he said and the older princess gave a small, shy, smile. "Hopefully you'll enjoy your time in the south."
Yue mewled a polite thank you and to Katara it eemed as though she wasn't impressed. Warriors in the Northern Water Tribe were probably dressed in finer clothes, more like nobility than they were hunters and defenders. They would outshine the bullish teenager, though Katara figured it wouldn't be that difficult. Still, she thought, everyone in the south was valuable, from the children to the elders. Even Yak, no matter how much he irritated her. For added insult to injury Yak patted her on the head, mussing her hair.
Katara found a bit of satisfaction when Tui attacked the boy's boot. He shrieked and scrambled away, looking wildly at Yue and then Katara. He detached the polar dog from him and moved to a safe distance, away from the girls. Katara looked at Yue.
The white-haired princess wore a facial expression that seemed to be somewhere between amusement and embarrassment. "I hope Tui didn't ruin his boots," she said and gave the pup a stern look of disapproval.
"He'll be alright," Katara shrugged. They passed through the large doors of IcePoint, guarded by warriors. Sokka had told her that having warriors guarding the citadel entrance was only a symbol, no one would dare attack the royal family. It was illegal, he had told her, and that some of the tribe's strongest warriors had come from their family line.
They were the Polar Bear Dogs, one of the fiercest beasts of the south.
As they stepped onto the ground, Yue suddenly looked around. "You're not taking an escort to the village?"
Katara paused and grimaced. As she did so, there was the sound of heavy hooves crunching the snow. Approaching them were two buffalo-yak, a type of beast brought from the north pole. They were followed by a young man on an arctic camel, holding the reins of a second in his left hand.
The first buffalo-yak was manned by Sokka, Katara's brother, and on either side of him were two of his unleashed polar dogs, Desna and Amarok. Sokka grinned as he guided the second buffalo-yak forward. "Did someone say escort?"
Katara looked behind her to see Yak step outside, a wide, triumphant smile on his lips. The princess forced her breath out and turned to Yue. "There's our escort."
Sokka slid from the animal's back and pulled the buffalo-yak closer. Katara took the reins and held the stinking beast as Sokka offered his hand to Yue. She accepted it and he hoisted her onto the wide saddle. Katara thought she saw the white-haired princess blush.
"Dad said don't woo her," Katara murmured as she heaved herself into the saddle in front of Yue. "Unless you want a marriage proposal."
Her brother raised his brows. "It might not be a bad idea," he replied quietly, for her ears alone, "it'll be good for politics." He patted the buffalo-yak's flank. "Imagine that. She’s not hard on the eyes either.”
Katara tried to imagine Yue as a sister-in-law, though she found it nearly impossible to do so. She imagined that one day her brother would have a wife that was tough, perhaps not royalty, but hopefully a waterbender. Someone who could hold her own and hated smelly socks as much as Katara did. Someone who wasn’t fragile or demure or any of the other things that the North deemed valuable in a woman “Marriage isn't for politics."
"Yes, yes," her brother deadpanned, "it's for those things called babies." Sokka chuckled and walked back to his own beast. His companions mounted the arctic camels. The polar dogs gathered together and Sokka looked at his sister. “Ready?"
Katara glanced at Yue, sitting stiffly behind her. "Ready," she answered. She urged the buffalo-yak forward and moved to the exit of IcePoint. Sokka flanked them as they stepped onto the ice road leading into the village. There were different clans and tribes scattered about the south pole, though they all answered to Icepoint and swore their allegiance to the Polar bear dogs. Katara had visited a few with her father as a child and she had seen that some people were less fortunate, but they all carried themselves with the same pride no matter how tattered their parkas were.
At some point in her childhood, Katara had decided she would never allow someone to suffer if she could help it.
The polar dogs ran ahead. Amarok in the front, large and deep gray where the pups were smaller and lighter. Katara watched them disappear from sight and then run back, as if waiting for their masters to catch up.
A wagon pulled by snow oxen passed them. It was coming from the village they were headed to, weighed down with items to barter and trade. "Ice wine," Katara explained to Yue, "and raw furs."
Yue watched.
"You're used to canals up north, right?" Sokka asked and Katara tried to imagine what the North would look like, taking into consideration what Yue had already told her. She pictured it as being very pristine and glittering, beautiful in a more traditional sense. “That’s your most common method of transport?”
"Yes," Yue answered, "there were canals for longer travel and sidewalks to go from building to building. The canals were monitored by waterbenders." She smiled softly and Katara heard her let out a tiny sigh. "It was convenient."
The north had spoiled their people, making them lax. The south had made no such offer, to work was to live and to survive was to obey the ice. It was an unspoken truth, an ancestral law. The south did not forgive. Katara wondered if the north had any dangers at all. Quietly they plodded on.
They crested a small snow-hill and at its base the small village beyond IcePoint came into view. They spurred the animals into a canter as they descended, entering in the sole street of the hamlet. The buffalo-yak trotted along the road and pulled to a halt at the first ice lodge, a longhouse carved from the ice by a waterbender.
An aging man expectantly stepped out of the ice lodge to greet them. He dipped into a respectful bow as the chief's children slid down from their animals. Katara put her forearm across her chest in the traditional salute and grinned. The old man, Yupatik, opened his hands. “Prince Sokka…Princess Katara…always a pleasure to see you. And who have we here? You have brought the Northern princess," he said, "the Winter Princess."
Yue looked surprised.
Yupatik smiled again, softly. "I was a Northerner once, many many moons ago. I have heard stories of you from my children's letters," he tucked his thin hands into his pockets. "Touched by a spirit, what a gifted child. But now that you are here, Winter Princess, you must work." He pointed to the ice lodge, "the walls can use some touching up," he said to Katara, "a child had a tantrum and everybody knows how you benders can be. The little ones always lack self control.”
There were times that her emotions fueled her waterbending, even unintentionally. Katara had once remembered a time when Sokka and his friends had teased her and she had shattered the ice vase in their room without trying, spurred on only by her anger. She figured she would understand the child if she met him. Maybe she could even convince her father to fund his lessons.
She fixed her coat and walked around the longhouse. Sokka followed her, trailed by the polar dogs. The longhouse was the largest building in the village, used as both a hospital and a gathering place. Katara saw that the south-facing wall had been bent almost out of shape, some blocks of ice stretched and melded together. Some sort of tantrum. It was impressive in its own way. Whoever or whatever had infuriated the child had certainly learned their lesson.
Sokka tilted his head to the side and held out his hands to form different angles to frame the structure. “You know...I can see a work of art here. Very nice. I can kinda see a otter-pengiun falling off of an iceberg," he turned to her, "can you see it?"
Katara set her stance and raised her hands, focusing on the frozen water. She made a wide sweeping motion and the ice bent to her command, grinding together. It shifted to a liquid state and she brought her hands up, palms pushed outward. The water followed, once again squares of ice and she clenched her fists.
The ice blocks attached themselves to the wall once more, solidifying, and Katara relaxed. She grinned at the miniature statue of a penguin that she had constructed. “There! Now it’s perfect!"
"You know, I wonder what the first waterbenders might have thought. They must've thought they were playing with magic water," Sokka mused and ran his gloved hand along the side of the ice lodge. "This is some sturdy work you did here.” Of the two of them, Sokka was the architect and the mathematician. Katara just did the things that he couldn't. Together they were a team of designers, a fact that their father was sure to nurture. "The blizzards will blow right over it."
Sokka surveyed the other buildings of the village. They were humble, little more than igloos. "They need a wall made from ice to keep intruders out." Katara scoffed. There was no way intruders would attack such a tiny village when the capital was just a short trek away. Any invader would have to pass through the capital in any case, and IcePoint was a fortress nigh impenetrable. Sokka turned his head to her and Katara saw that he was frowning.
As she opened her mouth to ask, she heard a shriek of laughter. Village children had swarmed Yue and the polar dogs, tugging at her legs. She looked both alarmed and overjoyed, trying to answer the chatter of six different children.
The white-haired girl struggled over to join them, dragging the persistent children along. "They've made me queen of the village," she said and giggled. In her hands, Katara saw a small doll made from tattered cloth.
Sokka nearly doubled over in a bow. "Long live Yue, Queen of the Village." He smiled and one of the male children threw his arms around him. "And her loyal subjects."
“Sokka!” They exclaimed, clambering over the prince. He scooped up a gap toothed little boy and swung him around. “Sokka, where’s your boomerang?”
Not the boomerang!
“I thought you’d never ask!” Sokka set the boy down, reaching over his shoulder to retrieve his preferred weapon. “I took down a sea monster with this, don’t you know?” He brandished the finely crafted boomerang and the children bounced on their toes for an opportunity to touch it. “This is a bona fide weapon of war! Who wants to try it first?”
“Me! Me!” The little ones cried out, hanging on to each other in uncontainable excitement. Katara smiled as her brother knelt in the hard packed snow, giving each child a turn to hold the weapon. He held their arms steady as they attempted pathetically to throw it. At last he stood and effortlessly threw the boomerang, watching as it arced, accelerated by the gentle wind and came gliding back to his waiting hand.
“Boomerang always comes back!”
Katara watched as the children detached themselves and started chasing after the polar dogs. She turned to Yue and saw her studying the cloth doll, running her fingers along the button eyes. "They're orphans," she explained quietly, "we help the village because they take in orphans."
Yue seemed taken aback. "I...I didn't know.”
"That's why they need a wall," Sokka said as he approached, tucking his beloved boomerang away. “If something happens, a bunch of kids can't help defend a village. The oldest kid isn't even eleven yet. And IcePoint is close, but a wall would still buy them time. Not much, but enough.”
Katara nodded and looked at Yue. "I help out the village because I will never deny helping someone," she declared, "I won't ever leave someone who needs me." It was simply not who she was, nor was it something she would ever be.
Yue held the doll with a reverent sadness, cradling it closer. “I’ve never done this…in the North, I mean. I’ve never…” she stood taller. “Tell me what I can do.”
Chapter 5: The Prince of the Fire Nation
Chapter Text
Zuko
Above the high, darkly painted ceiling, there was the patter of rain falling against the roof. It was a constant, dull, sound, the type of sound that would lull one to sleep. And as odd as it would seem and as odd as it would sound, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation loved the rain.
Or rather, he loved what came after the rain. The renewal and freshness of everything, as if the rain has washed everything away and exposed a new layer underneath. Everything was suddenly alive and bright.
But his father told him that fire was the only way the world could be renewed, that a new world could be born from the ashes. Destruction and rebirth. The natural order of the world.
There was a sharp pinch on his left side, digging through his clothes and he knew there would possibly be a red mark later. He raised his head and glared at his sister, aroused from the depths of his thoughts. She met his gaze with her own cold, golden, stare but made no move to speak.
They sat on the second tier of a smooth black dais, their shadows cast by the wall of bright golden flames at their backs. Before them was the audience chamber of the Fire Nation palace, the largest chamber ever built in the palace though Zuko found it to be the most plain, except for the gold paintings of the Fire Nation's glory and the spirit-god Agni. When Zuko had been a child, his father had carried him and his sister across the whole room, explaining every scene and image in detail.
An older man knelt before the dais, a scroll balancing on his hands. He was a messenger, Zuko could tell by the design of his clothing and the slight tilt of his head even though he bowed.
"Rise," a voice said from the top tier of the dais. Zuko risked a chance to look over his shoulder at his father. Even sitting, Ozai the Phoenix King and Lord of the Fire Nation was an imposing man. People had told Zuko that he had his father's face but his mother's eyes, and he figured that his presence wasn't nearly as commanding as his father's.
The man was a royal courier, given the task of handling the important messages and packages that went through the capital city and the palatial caldera. Zuko thought that such a job must be very interesting.
"My lord," the courier said, "I've come to deliver this message." He held up the scroll and Zuko saw that it had been bound by a pale blue ribbon. "The messenger hawk flew in this morning."
Zuko extended his hand and the messenger passed the scroll to him. Zuko held it in his hand for a brief moment before handing the message to his father, who accepted it wordlessly.
The courier left quietly when he was dismissed and the audience chamber was silent. Zuko looked at Azula and he could see the same desperate curiosity in her eyes that he knew was in his as well. Azula was better at hiding her emotions, though, a feat she had picked up from their mother, the queen.
At the same time they turned and Zuko saw the scroll fall from their father's hand into his lap. His father's face seemed to be somewhere between amused and angry, and Zuko saw that his broad shoulders were tense. "It seems as though the Southern Water Tribe thinks they are above my rule," he said, "the chief of the south pole sent a refusal. He will not allow Fire Nation men on his snow."
Zuko figured that this "chief" was stupid. One just didn't refuse the Fire Nation, one didn't deny Ozai. Especially when the Fire Nation was the greatest nation on earth.
Beside him, Azula snorted.
Ozai relaxed his shoulders. "The Southerners forget that it was our ancestors who forged this world for the pleasure of the spirits and the gods. It was the glory of the Fire Nation that spread prosperity to their hovels. They are simply living in it. The Universe," his voice was little more than a growl, "has always been on our side. The Southern Water Tribe cannot refuse."
Zuko had always admired his father's faith in the ways of the Universe. Some things were unquestionable truths, such as the glory of the Fire Nation.
"Burn it to the ground," Azula said quietly and when Ozai looked at her, she lifted her chin and smirked. Azula was bold. "Burn that block of ice to the ground. Then they'll see what power we have. We are the rulers of the greatest empire this world has ever seen." Zuko wondered if he should add his own words, but he chose to remain silent.
Ozai let out a low, dark chuckle. He clutched the scroll and Zuko watched as it went up in a plume of flame. "I think they'll understand very clearly in a short while," he said. He let the ashes fall from his hands and onto the dais. He raised his eyebrow in a way that Zuko had long since learned that meant he was about to ask a question. "What do you know of your uncle? And of your grandfather?"
Azula and Zuko exchanged looks, puzzled by the non sequitur. "Iroh was treacherous, he wanted to weaken the power of the Fire Nation. And you overthrew him by the will of the spirits and the gods. And our grandfather had gone mad," Zuko answered and searched his father's face. Zuko had never met his grandfather but he had heard that he had once been a great ruler until he went mad with age. Ozai had merely been the second son, the spare Dragon. "You became the phoenix."
Zuko had heard the story enough times as a child. His father had rebelled against his older brother after their father's death, gathering supporters and then killing Iroh, his brother, and the three year old Crown Prince to eradicate the weak links of the family. Ozai had shed the dragon symbol and adopted the phoenix sigil, and had reigned for twenty years. Zuko had only been alive for sixteen of them.
Their father nodded and stared at them both. Ozai had never said it but Zuko wondered if he was proud of them. Azula was a firebending prodigy, a master at eleven years old, while Zuko had an extensive knowledge of history, science, and strategy. He was not as skilled as Azula in the art of firebending though he had mastered firebending when he was fourteen years old. Their mother, on the other hand, had always praised them, especially as children. That's where his parents differed.
"Yes," he said, "and the Universe has seen fit that both of you carry on the legacy." Zuko recognized that as a compliment, something his father rarely, if ever, gave. He flicked his wrist, dismissing them. They both leapt to their feet.
Azula led the way out of the audience chamber, over the red and black tile. The heavy doors closed behind them, leaving their father in solitude save for the three palace guards posted outside of the chamber. Azula looked back at Zuko as they walked. “I feel sorry for the chief of the ice," she said, "the wrath of the Fire Nation is a terrible thing." The wrath of the Fire Nation and the wrath of Ozai were one and the same. "It'll be a sad day for the south when Father burns it down.”
Zuko shrugged. He knew Azula had no true sympathy for anyone. They entered the main corridor of the inner sanctum, a great hall that had been decorated with paintings of past Fire Lords and dragons. "You don't deny the Fire Nation.” Azula nodded. It was known. Those who attempted were subjugated. The Air Nation had learned brutally.
"Or Mother," Azula snarled and Zuko heard her curse under her breath. She stopped suddenly and Zuko saw a group of women coming from the opposite direction. Their mother and her entourage headed to the indoor garden for their routine of tea and gossip. The rain had banished them from their usual location outside. Zuko saw Azula stiffen. Their mother had always tried to make a proper lady out of Azula, though his sister had rebelled against her efforts.
It wasn't hard to spot their mother out of the group. The Lady Ursa was a woman of average height, but had a commanding presence. She was beautiful in the traditional way of the Fire Nation, with pale skin and ink black hair, yet she seemed to wear her features better than most. She was dressed in a deep red gown, cut from the finest cloth. Its long, bell-like sleeves hid her delicate hands as she walked. Her black hair was pinned up in an elegant top knot, held in place by a pin in the shape of a phoenix.
As the group of women approached, Zuko stepped aside and dipped his head in courtesy. Instead, his mother stopped. "Ah," she sang to the ladies behind her, "here are my children. Prince Zuko and Princess Azula." She turned her amber gaze onto her daughter, "I thought you would be joining us, Azula."
"I had other obligations," she answered sharply and Zuko found himself suppressing a chuckle. Azula hated noblewomen. She had called them dimwitted snakes, even the girls her age. Zuko often found himself amused. His sister seemed just as disgusted as Zuko by the courtier antics and their constant desire to climb up the ladder of nobility.
Zuko had once heard a story about a noblewoman named Llia, who had helped orchestrate the rebellion against Father's brother twenty years ago. She'd done it all by the will of her husband, though Zuko had never seen the woman nor her husband.
Azula had argued that Father had killed the woman and her husband, and all the others who helped him overthrow his elder brother, declaring they could not be trusted. If they had so readily helped to end one man's reign, what would stop them from doing it again? Protection, she had said, and Zuko figured that made sense. She had laughed at him and said that he wouldn't last five minutes as Lord of the Fire Nation without her. Zuko had called her a liar.
In the group of younger women, Zuko noticed a couple. One was a taller girl with her black hair pulled into two ox horns with a sharp bang covering her eyes. She was very thin, her burgundy clothes hanging from her slender frame. The other was a girl with brown hair instead of the stereotypical black, and eyes that were round and gray. She caught his gaze and smiled, waving.
Ursa studied her children for a moment and Zuko knew that she would reprimand them later. They must have allies, she would argue, they needed beneficial relationships and avoiding people would not help that. After a pause, she stepped around them and her guests followed.
As Zuko and Azula slipped away, the two girls joined them. They fell into step with the royal siblings. "Oh good," the black haired girl said, though her voice was dry and monotonous, "I thought I was going to spend the whole day with them. They're so boring ."
The lighter haired girl grabbed the collar of her loose-fitting dress and suddenly pulled it over her head, revealing another outfit underneath. She grinned, tossing the dress over her shoulder. She wore a pale pink shirt tucked into darker pants, held in place by a thick belt. "Those clothes are so stuffy! I thought I was going to suffocate in there!"
"Ty Lee actually stayed in one place for more than five minutes and I found that astonishing," the black haired girl, Mai, said. "And we had to sit through tea time and gossip, who would've imagined so much scandal." She rolled her eyes.
Zuko knew that his mother had very few true friends in the court, and she had encouraged her children to do the same. Ty Lee and Mai were Azula's schoolmates and had somehow managed to stay on her good side. They weren't "dimwitted snakes" she had said. Zuko had often wondered if they were friends with his sister because they were afraid or because their families had demanded it.
Or perhaps they truly liked Azula, but he doubted it. Azula's company was notoriously hard to enjoy.
"Oh, Mai, you didn't tell them about the rumor," Ty Lee and her voice softened. Zuko looked at the gray-eyed girl. She flexed her fingers. Her movements always seemed to be restless to Zuko, as if she was always yearning to be somewhere else. "We heard that someone found a body. Some nobleman who appeared to have choked on his tea.”
"Apparently some nobleman named Takuma. His eldest son found him at his dining table, bent over and blue," Mai shrugged, as if disinterested. "He had some official position."
Zuko raised his brows. He had known of Takuma, a man formerly on the national council. He had seen him with his father as an advisor. The man had been old, old enough to remember both the traitorous Prince Iroh and Zuko's grandfather. He had remained neutral during the conflict between the brothers, something that must've inspired Ozai to keep him around. Zuko wondered if his father knew of the man's death yet. Surely he had. A man so influential on Ozai’s council suddenly passing away was not a situation to be taken lightly.
"Unfortunate," Azula deadpanned. "An old man choked on his food, what an unusual occurrence." Despite her dry, disinterested, words, Zuko knew his sister well enough to know that her interest had piqued.
"It's not really what you'd expect to hear from noblewomen during tea time," Zuko offered and his sister turned her gaze onto him. He wondered if he said something that had amused her.
Azula smirked and looked at Ty Lee and Mai. "One thing you have yet to understand, Zuzu, is that noblewomen are simply vicious creatures. They just hide it behind pretty words and prettier fans." She leaned closer to him, "Don't forget that one of the greatest, most ruthless Fire Lords was a woman."
She meant the Lord of the Archipelago, the Fire Lord Ichiko, who had conquered the remaining independent people of the Fire Nation archipelago and done away with every family member that tried to hinder her. Legends had proclaimed that she even tamed a dragon.
Azula smiled. "I say we spar in the rain, Zuzu," she said and opened her palms. Blue flames erupted from them, warming the air around them. Azula was the prodigy, the Blue Phoenix, one of the very few in written history to produce blue flames. The previous had been Ichiko. "Seems fair, hmm? Neither of us will have the advantage.”
Zuko couldn't help but grin.
They walked down the hall and his sister leaned in. "Old men may choke, but not Takuma," she whispered, "he wouldn't just keel over and choke."
Zuko considered that for a moment. "So you're saying he was murdered?"
Azula pinched him and her fingers were hot. "Quieter, stupid! And ah you think in such extremes, Zuzu. I suppose someone just hurried along the inevitable. We all have enemies, Zuko." She looked at her companions and studied them, "and we all have allies. I think Takuma forgot."
The Prince of the Fire Nation paused. Takuma had been a nobleman, he was bound to have enemies. A man aligned so closely to the Phoenix King had surely embittered a few in his social climb. "I see," he said. Zuko was certain he had enemies as well, some who hated him simply because he had been born. After a brief moment of silence, politicking aside, he smirked and raced his sister the rest of the way to the garden, suddenly anticipating the feel of fire in his hands and the rain on his skin.
Chapter 6: Rites of Passage
Chapter Text
Hakoda
"You seem worried," his mother said as she set a cup of a hot beverage before him, closing the door of his quarters. She sat down before him and Hakoda looked up to see Kanna's blue eyes boring into him, making him feel small and young again. Her face was stern, square jaw set firmly. "It's about the Fire Nation, I presume.”
Hakoda frowned. "I have no worries," he said and his mother looked skeptical. "I've told you already, I've given Ozai my answer. I do not fear a bird. He will not have the South, no matter what he threatens or promises." He took a sip of the beverage. It had been imported from a southern Earth Kingdom, a drink that was sold and sweetened to one's desire. It had many names, Hakoda had learned, but the Southern Water Tribe called it "coffee". He had found that it often kept him awake. They paid a premium price for the loads of fragrant beans but their coffers were recovered by the ore mines in the heart of the continent, of which demand was always high. Hakoda had an innate talent for numbers and accounting and had generated enough revenue to survive whatever famine might come. Humble though he might be, the Polar Bear Dogs had never been poor.
Kanna watched him. As a youth, her gaze had made Hakoda squirm. As he aged, he had often been told that he had inherited his mother's hard stare. Hakoda took note of the sealskin calendar hanging above the door. A full month had passed since the girl arrived. With her had arrived a shipload of furs and unrefined ore, and a number of Earth Kingdom trinkets that Hakoda had given to his daughter and son. "Sokka's ritual hunts will begin soon," he stated, "it came upon me so quickly."
His mother softened at the thought of her grandson. It was southern tradition for a young man to lead three hunts as a rite of manhood, each one increasingly challenging. Hakoda remembered his three hunts, though the elders had given him riddles instead of actual quests, he recalled. The first had been a fairly simple seal hunt. The second had been a trek to the mountain to retrieve an arctic goat and the third had been to find the most beautiful thing in the south.
He had found Kya, perched on a rock with her loveliest clothes and a club in her hand. She had smiled that odd, sideways smile that Hakoda had grown to love -and to miss- and asked if she was what he was looking for.
She had been. She had always been what he was looking for.
Hakoda had considered his words for a moment, had seen the girl's smirk and had answered with "perhaps".
“He's becoming an adult, as we all must," Kanna said. "He'll be a great chief when his time comes. You’ve raised him well. He's like you, but perhaps a bit more logical," she chuckled, "you had your head in the clouds as a boy. Idealistic to a fault. You and Kya both. Katara takes after you two."
The chief nodded. He had envisioned his children would both be leaders in their own right. Sokka was to be the chieftain, the protector and ruler of the south. Katara, his darling princess, would be his right hand. He was grateful that his children were so close, that they balanced each other’s qualities. The South would be in good hands. "I haven't begun mixing the paint for Sokka's ritual," Hakoda said, "Perhaps you could help?"
His mother lifted her shoulders. "It's been years since I've mixed paint," she said and smiled, "but I can do it one more time I suppose." Her eyes studied him for a long moment and Hakoda saw her lips turn downward in a frown. He braced himself. "This is a changing world, Hakoda."
"The world is always changing, woman," Hakoda chaffed and his mother inhaled deeply. "That's why we are people of the ice and of the water, we adapt." He took another sip of the coffee, "we must move with the ebb and flow. Those who do not will drown. You know this.”
Kanna's gaze became distant. "I remember a time when there was talk of a spirit-god on earth," she said, "called the Avatar who could master all elements and could unite all kingdoms and empires in the image of the gods. True unity. Not this reign of oppression that those yellow eyed demons are trying to force upon us.” She spat. “Look at what this world has become. I suppose that a spirit-god had no desire to be in this pitiful world for men and crowns and kingdoms."
“Perhaps not, I don't think they would," Hakoda answered slowly, "the spirits and the gods must find us mortals very amusing. Men will slaughter their brothers for a crown, men will live in palaces of ice, men will try to become gods," he waved his hand and pushed himself away from the small table and stood.
The chief’s mother eyed the bone dagger on his belt as she stood. "You have had that knife for a long time," her tone was cryptic, "since you were a young boy."
"Yes," Hakoda answered and he was reminded of a room that was freezing cold and cold hands squeezing his and looking down into Kya's face as her eyes welled up with tears. She had been feverish, her strength waning. Healers crowded around him, shooed away by the woman’s flippant hand. "The children will be free," she had whispered in his ear, a frigid hand on the back of his neck. "Do not tame them, promise me you will let them be free.” Hakoda had promised. She had taken the bone dagger from his hands and looked at it and begged to have an identical one to die with, so that she might die as she had lived. And who was he to deny her?
Kya had been pushed out to sea with her finest cloak and an identical bone dagger in her hands, and Hakoda had wept before returning home to make good on his promise.
They had given Kya a warrior's funeral. The elders had dressed her in an arctic leopard cloak and on her arms they had written symbols of strength and motherhood. Hakoda still remembered the sad, lilting hymn the people had sung as she was pushed out to sea. It echoed in his head sometimes when he looked at Sokka and Katara and saw their mother in them.
As he exited the chamber, he waved his hand and caught the attention of a passing servant. The man saluted him and Hakoda returned the gesture. "Do you know the materials needed for ritual paint?" He asked and the man nodded. Hakoda remembered that the servant, Parqik, had three grown sons. He knew the pain of fatherhood as well as any other. “I need them to be brought to me quickly."
"Aye," Parqik said and set off down the hall. From the opposite direction Hakoda heard sounds of running and the yipping of polar dogs from another hall, sounds that could only come from his children. There was a suspiciously loud crash followed by a shrill “Sokka!” and the baffled growl of one of the older animals. Hakoda winced and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“They're almost grown and still can be heard throughout IcePoint," Kanna laughed as she came to his side. "They're going to corrupt the northern girl before the year is over, take my word on it."
Hakoda shook his head. "I doubt it. That girl's been raised to be obedient and quiet since she was a baby, she won't change so easily. Too much of a lady." He looked down at his mother. “You're the rare exception for northern women."
Kanna smirked. "I was.”
Parqik returned with an assistant, carrying several jars and empty bowls in their arms. She stepped aside as Hakoda cleared the table for the servants to set the materials down. She picked up a jar and studied its contents. "Base," she said. "And coloring. You must allow the colors to set after mixing them.”
The chief sat and arranged everything before him. He took the coloring and poured a bit of the red into a bowl, the pungent smell burning the inside of his nose. The scent would fade after being exposed to the air. "The ancestors used to use blood and crushed plants," he said, reciting what his own father had told him and what he had told Sokka. "I suppose some became squeamish." That practice died many years ago. "It died in the north first."
His mother laughed drily, "The Northern Water Tribe is more concerned about things that are pretty rather than practical," she said, as though she had not once been a northerner in a different lifetime "Dried blood isn't pleasing to the eye." She pulled a face. She hadn't lived the north since she was seventeen, over fifty years ago.
“Though it's very intimidating," the chief offered. He poured the red coloring into the base and stirred them together, watching as the red pigment began to lighten and take hold. "Red for the blood of the hunt, white for the ice on which we live, and black for the soot and smoke of the fire.”
Kanna mixed the black paint. "Blue for the ocean and for the sky," she continued, "and violet to appeal to the gods."
The Water Tribe worshiped many gods and spirits, including the Moon and Ocean Spirits Tui and La. They prayed to the nameless, formless gods of the hunt and of the ice and begged the angry spirits to show mercy. Throughout the ages the songs of the wrath of the gods had been passed down from mother to child, bestowing upon the next generation the secrets of the ice. The Tribes did not just believe, they feared.
"I had a dream," Kanna said and Hakoda smiled inwardly, knowing that she had not sought him out for no reason. "I dreamed of a comet and of the long night, and of ice that lay next to a flame and did not melt," she told him, "it was peculiar. It was not the first time I’ve dreamt of similar things. I’ve seen an ice lily grown from brick. A lone wolf in the smoke.” Her voice faded. “Perhaps it would have been better if we just…you know of what I speak.”
Hakoda jerked his head. “No.” He growled, ire surfacing. His mother did not bow under his glare. “We will not discuss this. The matter is done , woman. Let it die.” He forced himself to breathe slowly and he knew his mother had never feared him. Had feared for him perhaps, but Kanna had always said she would never defer to a child who came from her own womb. “I am no interpreter of dreams, I cannot decipher and decide meanings. You're an elder, Kanna, that's your job." He chuckled.
His mother didn't seem amused. "I haven't told the other elders of this dream," she admitted, "those old bags of bones think everything is an omen. Some things are merely the way they are," she said, "it is so."
"It is so," Hakoda repeated. The phrase was one of the tribe's elders, passed down from the ancestral law. If it was willed, then it would be so. He dipped his fingers into the red paint and made a mark on his mother's wrist. "Wise woman," he said and smiled.
Kanna looked at the symbol. She took a sample of the black paint and drew an animal in Hakoda's palm. "The Polar Bear Dog," she said and Hakoda wondered how they must look, a grown man and his mother playing with paints. "The rulers of the south. It is so."
Hakoda looked down at his palm. The black Polar Bear Dog danced across it, leaping towards the flesh of his thumb and tail curving up towards his fingers. He closed his fist. He remembered that the South had stood for ten thousand years before him and would continue to stand ten thousand years after him, and that the Polar Bear Dogs would continue to roam without restraint or fear, but they were the apex predators of the south pole. He closed his hand around the symbol and silently prayed for his ancestors to grant him wisdom as they had all those years before-
“I’ll leave you here, Mother. I’m going to find my children.”
He found all three of them in the open air pavilion at the heart of the residential keep. Sokka had his back to the entrance, waving his arms furiously as his sister pelted him with what seemed to be an infinite number of snowballs. The white haired princess Yue had folded herself into a corner, her gloved hand pressed to her mouth and eyes stretched wide. Hakoda’s eyes landed on his daughter. Her skin was flushed with rage and her hair, having fallen loose from its braid, was plastered to her forehead. The scene seemed to be a continuation of their earlier quarrel. Several of the warriors assigned to the citadel cowered in fear of the master waterbender and her equally willful brother. Bato crept over to Hakoda, his back pressed to the wall, jaw trembling.
“What is it this time?”
Bato flinched. “You know Prince Sokka can be…a bit abrasive with his tone. He suggested that Katara might be better suited to…ah.” He scratched the back of his head, “better suited to play with her magic water far away from real men’s work. It was said in jest of course but you know how strongly Katara takes offense.” The two fought as frequently as they conspired together, and while their collaborations often resulted in ingenuity, their conflicts more often than not ended in bruised bodies and egos. Hakoda had been grateful to have waterbending instructors readily available after his daughter splintered a wall in an argument with Sokka when she was seven years old.
Spirits give me strength . Hakoda inhaled deeply and strode forward, ducking as a stray lump of snow coasted over his head. “Stop, you two!” He bellowed and the teenagers instantly dropped their stances, identical expressions of guilt on their faces. They slithered over to him, taking a sudden interest in their boots. “Are you two the next leaders of our Tribe or mischievous children that need to return to the nursery?”
“But Dad!” Their voices were as one.
Hakoda leveled them with a glare. “I don’t care whose fault it was. I don’t care who started it. You embarrass our whole clan in front of Yue by bickering like guinea hens! Katara, go to your rooms. Take Princess Yue with you and show her that you can carry yourself accordingly.” His daughter’s eyes welled with tears of shame and her bottom lip quivered. She nodded and limped away from him, tail between her legs, pride wounded. He watched her as she left the pavilion with their guest in tow before rounding on his son.
Sokka did not flinch. “You don’t even have to say it. I’ll go get the rags to scrub the halls,” he groaned and startled when Hakoda’s forearm barred his path. “Dad, please tell me you’re not going to make me clip Gran-Gran’s toenails again. Please!”
The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe sighed. “Neither of those things. Sokka, you’re approaching manhood soon. Perhaps the elders are right and I spoiled you two. That time is coming to an end, son. Sokka the Boy is no more. You must become Sokka the Man.” This is a changing world. He rested a hand on his son’s cheek and pulled him into an embrace. Sokka was nearly his height. “There is a role for you to fulfill just as Katara has hers…” he banished the creeping thoughts to the darkness of the back of his mind. “Your ritual hunts will begin soon.”
Sokka brightened, his grin slowly widening in realization. Hakoda allowed himself a curt nod of affirmation. He opened his palm to reveal the Polar Bear Dog. “Dad…are you serious? I can’t wait. I can’t wait!” His son threw his arms around him, embracing him the way he had when he was still a boy that Hakoda could carry in his arms. “I love you, Dad. I won’t let you down.”
Hakoda smiled. “You never have, son. You never have.”
Chapter 7: The Ice Wall
Chapter Text
Hahn
It would only be a few years, they said. Defending the Ice Wall was the greatest honor, they said. To keep the vile things in the Land of the Ice That Never Melts away from the tribe was a duty to take great pride in.
The people who said that, Hahn decided, were liars.
The land outside of the Northern Water Tribe capital was cold, colder than Hahn had expected. He pulled his cloak closer to him, tucking his arms under his armpits and exhaling, watching as his breath drifted away in visible white clouds. His mouth was sore from his teeth chattering.
Hahn balanced on the edge of the wagon and watched as the great capital of the Northern Water Tribe grew smaller. The ice tiers began to shrink and become dark dots against the unending white snow as the distance increased until the gleaming diamond of the North Pole was out of view. Hahn felt a bit homesick already, though it had only been an hour and a half since they departed for the Ice Wall.
"I heard it snows all day," a boy said beside him. Hahn hadn't taken the time to learn his name, but he knew that the boy was going to serve permanently on the Wall. Hahn thought he was stupid, who would want to spend their whole life away from people, surrounded by greasy old men on a stupid block of ice. “And even waterbenders can die frozen in their beds."
Hahn made a face. His father had convinced- no, commanded- him to serve on the Ice Wall for at least a year to obtain some semblance of honor. His older brothers were all esteemed warriors and had married women of good standing. Hahn didn't expect much, being the third son, but he remembered that once his mother had told him he would marry a princess. She had told him that his princess wife would see him as a great hero when he returned.
His mother was a liar.
The wagon went over a small bump and Hahn jolted, nearly smashing into the boy beside him. "Y'not scared of bein' frozen?" The boy asked, "and getting lost in the snow?"
Hahn rolled his eyes. "I'm competent enough to know how to find my way back. Besides, I went to a school that actually taught me how to use a compass,” he answered. "I can do my duty and get back home." He suddenly imagined that fighting foul-things and barbarians would get more respect than simply guarding ships. This might work out, he thought.
The boy studied him and Hahn returned his stare. He appeared to be about fifteen, younger than Hahn, and of lower economic standing. His eyes were brown, a trait that some Tribe people had depending on what clan their ancestors came from. The boy grinned, "I bet the ladies are gonna miss ya."
Despite himself, Hahn smirked. He was handsome, he always had been and people knew it. "I suppose they'll have to learn to live without me." He was sure his mother would also have to get used to him being gone, he may have been the youngest but he was his mother's favorite and his father's greatest pupil. Hasook and Nilu, his brothers, had been prodigies and had left home early. Hahn had taken his talent and excelled.
A man riding a buffalo-yak came up the side of the wagon. He was a large, scarred man with aged eyes and half of his left ear was missing. He wore the dark blue, nearly black, parka of the men at the Ice Wall. "Save ya breath, boys," he said, "the cold at the wall will make you breathless. The more you breathe, the greater chance you have of your lungs freezing in your chest.”
Hahn blinked. He wondered what had caused the man's injury. Everyone knew there were foul-things beyond the Wall, angry abominations and barbarians. Hahn had heard tales of the times before the Wall was built, when things from the Land of the Ice That Never Melts would plague the city and only the bravest warriors and a mystical being known as the Avatar could keep them away.
Hahn wasn't sure if the Avatar was even real anymore, but if he was, he wasn't doing his job very well.
"I once knew a man who kept watch on the Wall, and a spirit flew down and nearly stole his soul," the man went on, "the only reason he lived was because someone gave him a sip of water from the Spirit Oasis."
Hahn knew of the Spirit Oasis. It lay on the edge of the city, a place of warmth and a small pool that held the physical forms of the Moon and Ocean spirits Tui and La, two Koi fish. Hahn knew that the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe had been granted life by the Moon spirit as a baby, which endeared her even more to the population. Hahn figured that there were a lot of perks to that.
"Why did the spirit try to steal his soul?" The boy beside Hahn asked. "And why was there no one to help him?"
The man seemed agitated. "Because," he snapped impatiently, “that’s what some spirits do. They steal souls. And the man was alone because he was on sentry duty at night. Night is a dangerous time. Especially a full moon. If you’re smart, you’ll stay within the fortress and camps. If you’re not…well your parents will receive a soulless corpse for burial.”
Hahn looked back, only to see that even the tallest tower in the capital had finally disappeared from view, leaving only an empty expanse of white snow and pale blue ice. It felt odd, he thought, to be so far from the city, his home, yet still be in the north. It felt alien to be plodding along an empty road of ice and crushed snow. They were on the top of the world and yet there was still more yet unseen.
"There ain't no girls at the Wall," someone lamented at the front of the wagon, his voice undulating in song, "but the spirits just as pretty, there ain't no girls at the Wall, they got left back in the city." He laughed and some others joined him, repeating the words and making a song out of them.
"Here we are, going to keep the capital safe while the chief is up in his ice palace, feasting . And the prince probably has his nose in a book." The man on the buffalo-yak pulled a face.
“The prince is a kid, what do you expect?” Another man snorted.
Kuruk, the chief's son and heir, was a chubby six year old boy. Hahn had only seen him once, when Hasook had been recognized as an established warrior. He had hid between his father, the chief, and his mother, holding his elder sister's hand. Princess Yue was beautiful, Hahn remembered that, and he remembered that he wouldn't mind courting her. Perhaps she could've been his princess, but she had been shipped south and would probably return married and round in the belly with some southern warrior’s whelp.
There was an excited shout and Hahn craned his neck to see the men on the supply wagon ahead of them shouting and pumping their fists in the air. Beyond that, he could see a massive wall of ice. It was taller than the even highest tier in the capital and though Hahn could not see it all, he figured it must've gone on for miles in either direction.
"The only thing keeping the foul-things out," the man on the buffalo-yak said quietly, "the great wall of ice. Between two mountains, over a hundred and fifty feet high, and about as thick as fifteen men standing shoulder to shoulder. Home."
As the wagons drew closer, Hahn saw stations set up along the wall and men in pairs of two scaling it with the help of some type of rig. They stood on a thin platform, one holding it steady while the other used waterbending.
“That's how we make repairs," the man explained and spurred his buffalo-yak, pulling away from the wagons and disappearing from view into the fray of activity in the open yard surrounding a row of buildings.
The wagons followed the well- traveled path along the wall and Hahn smelled smoke and animals. He heard the familiar sound of northern made steel and the crunch of a thousand feet on snow.
The wagon pulled to a halt.
An average looking man leaped down from the front seat as a group of men approached. They wore dark blue cloaks and cowls, much like their escort. Their noses were tinged red from the cold. "Get out!" The average looking man shouted and the boys clambered from the wagon, shoving each other to stand before the men. "Get out and stand up!"
Hahn took his time.
One of the men detached himself from the group and walked along the line of boys. "You brought a sorry lot," he said and wrinkled his red nose.
“Sorry?!" Hahn couldn't help but argue, "I'm a great warrior."
The man stopped and looked back at Hahn. His eyes were a piercing gray, hauntingly out of place against his dark brown skin. "Oh are ya now?" He smiled wolfishly. "Are you a first son?"
Hahn rolled his eyes. "No."
"Second?"
"No."
The man laughed loudly. "Oh! So this great warrior is a third son! A merchant's son probably. Let me tell you, boy, if you were so great of a warrior, you would be guarding the chief. If you were so great, we would know your name!” He clapped a hand heavily on Hahn's shoulder, expecting him to flinch "I like this one," he said, "he won't make it a month on the wall."
Hahn narrowed his eyes and the man crooked his finger, beckoning him forward. Hahn followed and he heard the wagon driver snicker. Hahn tried to mask the chill that cut through his clothes with a nonchalant shrug. The man led him away from the others.
They trudged across the snow and onto an empty platform. The man stepped on it first and as Hahn stepped up, the mechanism began to rise. The man operated the pulley, grunting with the effort. Hahn saw the people on the ground getting smaller as they went up the side of the wall. He noticed the minute intricacies in the ice, tiny designs that could only be seen up close. They could have only been created by waterbenders- powerful ones at that.
"Do you know who I am, boy?" The man asked as he pulled. In one swift movement, he pulled back his hood. He wasn't an old man by any means, but Hahn saw streaks of gray in his dark hair. He did not seem familiar.
When Hahn told him so, the man smiled darkly. "I had figured as much," he continued to pull the chains, "I'm the chief's nephew."
Hahn's eyes widened.
"It's true," the man nodded, "the lone son of his eldest sister. You won't hear him claim we're related, though. I doubt he knows I'm alive. Wouldn’t want to disgrace the illustrious image of the royal family with a haggard like me.” He gave the chains and rope a heaving tug, "We're the same age, his sister was a woman grown by the time he was born."
“Like his own children," Hahn said, "the princess and the prince are ten years apart." He looked down, they were perhaps a quarter of the way up the wall.
"My mother and Arnook were nineteen years apart," the man replied and let go of the rope. The platform stayed suspended in place and then the man raised his hands, making a pushing motion. A waterbender. There was a grinding noise and the ice beneath the platform rippled. The platform began to move upward once more, without the laboring effort of the man's pulling. "What's your name, boy?"
“Hahn," he replied. The platform was rising faster now. "Why did you choose me?"
The man smiled softly to himself and did not respond.
The platform clinked and stopped and Hahn felt a cold wind cut through him. They were at the top of the wall, one hundred and fifty feet above the ground and Hahn could see the open terrain on either side of the wall. On one side there were things that were familiar, there was his home and the capital and the other cities of the North. On the other was the unknown, the Land of the Ice That Never Melts and foul-things and spirits and barbarians.
At this height the air was thinner and the cold cut Hahn’s lungs every time he inhaled. The men below were dark dots against dirt and snow. On the other side was the vast expanse of the Land of the Ice That Never Melts. Dark green thatches of ancient trees sprang from the blinding white and indigo mountains in the distance beckoned with their secrets. He could see a winding frozen river that cut its way across the tundra and permafrost, disappearing into the forest that seemed to stretch on without end. At this height it was quiet save for their breathing and the whine and squeal of the frost tinged chains.
The man stepped onto the ice at the top of the wall, his steps sure and measured. Hahn followed, breathing in the frigid air of the far north.
"It's beautiful," the man intoned beside him. "Lovely and deadly." He watched Hahn and Hahn watched him. "As unforgiving as a woman scorned. They say the north was created by an angry female spirit. It can be just as vengeful.”
Without warning, the man in the dark blue cloak lunged and grabbed Hahn by the throat. As the younger man gasped for breath, he pushed him backwards, bending him over the edge of the wall. Hahn grasped feebly at the man's arms and the chief's nephew bared his teeth. "Not so great of a warrior up here on your own, are ya?" He hissed and bore his weight down. "You're just a pitiful little boy, aren't ya? You are no one. I chose you because I will enjoy breaking you.”
Hahn cried out as the man roughly hauled him back to safety, wheezing as he tried to regain his breath. He sprawled on the expanse of ice. "What was that for?!"
The man chuckled. "I can see you're a cocky one," he responded, "you take pride in what you can do. But listen to me, boy, this wall is unforgiving. The lands beyond it even less so. We will not coddle you, we will not stroke your ego. You either work for your keep, you work for a place here, or you die. Understood?"
Hahn rubbed his throat. "You threatened to kill me just for that?"
The man seemed amused. "I did," he said, "and I would do it again. How will you know what you're going to face, if you've never seen death in the eye?"
"The other new boys haven't," Hahn argued and he felt a heavy drop in his stomach.
Again, the man chuckled. "Get back on the platform," he ordered. With a singular pull on the chain he began to lower them back down. Hahn glared daggers at him, unable to do much else. “I would advise you to learn to heed my advice and to do it quickly. No one here cares if you live or die…And those other boys, little hero, are criminals."
Chapter 8: Peculiar Visitors
Chapter Text
Sokka
Sokka closed his eyes as his father marked the red paint on his forehead, just above his eyes. It was meant to represent the blood of the hunt. Their ancestors had once used real animal blood but Sokka was glad that practice had died out. The smell of the paint was bad enough. He resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose and risk ruining the markings.
Today would begin his final ritual of manhood, a series of three hunts as a rite of passage. It would prove he could provide for his family and show his strength, that he could lead without guidance. He had spent the last week listening to the older warriors and the elders, asking for their wisdom. They had suggested he pray to his ancestral spirits.
Every night for the past six nights he had prayed at the altar in the ice garden of IcePoint. The spirits had given him no answer and Sokka figured that he must've been doing it wrong, or somewhere along the line he offended one of them some way or another.
"There'll be no question of your right to be chief after this," Hakoda smiled. "Your mother would be very proud if she could see you now in the flesh. You know she watches over you even now in the stars and the moon." He made the mark of prosperity over Sokka's jaw. "You're a man grown now."
Sokka remembered his mother pelting him with snowballs and pulling his hair into a warrior's wolf tail, her face beside his in the looking glass, eyes twinkling like diamonds. The rest of his memories of her had been drawn up by the stories he had been told. He imagined she would've been a meat lover like him.
Hakoda clapped his shoulders and stood. Sokka followed suit, careful not to disturb the drying paint on his face and hands. He followed his father as he led him through the halls of IcePoint, catching the awed stares of the servants and the nods of approval of the sworn warriors. "Remember all I have taught you. You're a clever boy, Sokka."
"I know," he replied and adjusted his belt. He had a bone dagger on one side and his boomerang on the other. "I won't let you down, Dad."
His father nodded stiffly. He wouldn't be accompanying the younger warriors this time and Sokka knew his father well enough to recognize his worry. While his embraces and voice were as warm as always, trepidation had crept into his eyes. Not about the hunt, Sokka knew, but the Fire Nation.
Sokka decided that if any psychotic firebenders ever tried to land a foot on the south pole, he'd see to it personally that they end up in the sea. No doubt about it, he thought. He cleared any remnants of the thoughts from his mind. He would need a clear head today and in all the days that followed.
Katara and Yue were waiting for them at the end of the main hall. They were dressed similarly in the flowing gowns of the upper class, though Katara preferred cobalt over Yue’s lilac. His little sister seemed caught between excitement and jealousy, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. She wasn't allowed on large hunts, her father had forbidden it even though she had protested vehemently. When they were younger, Sokka had told her that girls weren't the same as boys and she had kicked him.
It was only true.
"Good luck," Yue said and smiled. She'd warmed up a bit to IcePoint in the weeks that'd she been a guest. She ventured nearly everywhere with them, save for the training yards where her incorrigible propriety wouldn’t let her be caught dead. There were two different types of princesses in the world, Sokka thought. There were the proper ones, like Yue, and then there were the ones like his sister.
"Thanks," Sokka puffed his chest out. His sister and his family's guest had joined him in praying to the ancestors the night before, in hopes that the spirits would bring good luck. He knew they would be waiting anxiously for his return. Sokka figured that the success of the hunt was by chance and by skill but one could never be to sure. "I'll be a real man soon, Katara, that means you'd have to listen to what I say without question.” He threw his arms around her shoulders.
His sister rolled her eyes as she withdrew away from him and Sokka flashed a toothy smile. He and his father continued through the main keep’s vestibule. They spilled out into the boisterous atmosphere of the yards outside of the residential sanctum. To the west was the longhouse that served as the quarters of the sworn guards, the ones Sokka knew would sacrifice life and limb for IcePoint. Beyond the interior gates were the stables and the main kennels. Sokka took it all in before crossing the threshold of the citadel's main entrance, the gates closing behind him with finality. His father followed and Sokka saw his friends and one of the dog handlers awaiting him, holding the hunting dogs by their rope leashes. Beside the handler was the wooden sled used to drag large kills and extra supplies.
Sokka whistled and Amarok, his lead hunting dog, tore himself from the handler's grip. Sokka looked at his father and saluted him. His father dipped his head. Crossing the remaining distance, Sokka picked up the rope attached to the wooden sled and turned to his fellow warriors. They were slightly older than him, but they were his closest companions other than his sister and family.
Today, Sokka thought, was the day he would be the leader of the pack.
IcePoint lay between the sea, the tundra, and the rest of the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka admired the ingenuity and strategy of positioning the Tribe’s seat of power on the coast. Not only was the gargantuan stronghold and its shadow city the first thing that came into view when sailing in from the Southern Sea, IcePoint was a fortress, not a palace, and if any foreign invaders tried to attack from the ocean, they would first have to fight the south pole's greatest protectors. Few had tried and even fewer had succeeded.
A stablehand brought a buffalo-yak around to them and Sokka hitched the sled onto the animal's saddle. He took the reins and tugged gently.
Sokka felt his family's eyes on him as he led the way. His companions were silent as they followed. It was a solemn event, the first hunts always were. The second was more unique and challenging and Sokka was anxious to discover what his father had devised. After the third hunt, the entirety of the Southern Water Tribe would celebrate and accept Sokka as the next chief. His name would be carved in the ice alongside those of his ancestors and the South would remember him into perpetuity. Sokka was mainly concerned about the feast.
"You'll be a man, Sokka, like the rest of us," Touqa said lightheartedly, breaking the silence. He was short and thin, and had a lighter complexion than most Tribe people. His mother, Sokka had heard, had been a woman from one of the Earth Kingdoms. Either she had died or refused to move South, Sokka wasn't sure. He had never seen her and Touqa had never been inclined to offer an explanation. He had been raised solely by his father and slew of aunts. "You'll find a pretty wife, too. Mayhaps the northerner?”
Kunip, another of Sokka's friends, grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly. "The next chieftain is gonna need more than a pretty face and manners," he laughed, "this man has a whole family of warriors, even the girls. His own mother was one."
Kunip was the oldest of their group, nearly eight years Sokka's senior and had served as Sokka's instructor in the training yard. He'd been old enough to remember Kya, Sokka's mother, before her death. "She'd have to know how to wrestle wild beasts just to call herself a Polar Bear Dog."
Sokka shrugged and scratched the back of his head.
He remembered when his father first told him what it meant to be a Polar Bear Dog. He had been six and Katara only five, but their father had pulled them into his lap. He had explained to them that the Polar Bear Dog was the indomitable ruler of the ice, that they could never be tamed and that they roamed the south pole in packs. He had told them that their ancestors had chosen the animal to illustrate their strength. Sokka had found that painfully obvious; no one would respect a chief with a snow squirrel as his symbol.
Somewhere in the world, Sokka thought, there was a family with a snow squirrel as a symbol and he weeped for their embarrassment.
They took a different path than usual, instead heading away from the road that would lead them to the orphan village and further away from the bastion and the port city. The South had many stretches of uninhabited territory, including the area in which they navigated. The snow was packed close to the ground, generally undisturbed. Sokka led the way across it. His first challenge would be a simple seal hunt where the ice was thin and the ocean was close.
A cold wind blew and stung Sokka's eyes and nose, spraying his face with loose flakes of snow. He pulled his hood up and held his head down, listening to the sound of the others trudging behind him. An hour and a half or perhaps two passed in relative silence. Amarok pressed his warm flank against Sokka's leg and guided him to the steadier parts of ice.
"I heard up north there's a spirit portal," Kunip said finally and scoffed. "I don't see why any spirit would want to stick around with 'em." He thumbed his nose. “The white-haired princess, what's she really like, Sokka?"
Sokka looked over his shoulder. "She's alright, I guess. Not like us. She's quiet. Pretty. Y'know, typical northerner." Sokka didn't know many northerners, but he figured they would be like Yue. He often tried to make Yue laugh, to make her time away from home more enjoyable. He had discovered that Yue found his occasional clumsiness amusing. “That’s how they like ‘em up there, I guess.”
Sokka caught the smell of salt water and felt the ice under his feet grow thinner. He raised his hand for the others to halt. Amarok had his nose to the ice, trained to pinpoint the smell of prey animals. He trotted a few cautious steps away from his owner and sniffed the ice once more. Sokka watched him, trailing the animal.
Amarok led him to a hole in the ice where the frigid water met the cold air. It was a seal's breathing hole. Amarok nudged Sokka and crouched as Sokka held up his spear, his tail lashing excitedly.
Now, he thought, he would have to wait.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Amarok lay down on his belly and rested his massive head on his paws, looking up at Sokka. He whimpered, as if agitated, and Sokka looked apologetically at him.
"Maybe the seals are asleep," Kunip called to him and Sokka shot his companions a sharp glare. They broke into laughter. "Patience is a hunter's greatest weapon."
Sokka shifted his weight and readjusted his spear.
There was the sound of movement in the water and he tensed. Amarok rose and bared his teeth. Sokka peered closer at the dark water of the seal hole as bubbles drifted up.
A pale snout and head pushed its way through the water and through the gap in the ice. Sokka saw large black eyes and a glistening black nose and silver whiskers. Amarok lunged forward and closed his jaws around the seal's neck. Sokka raised his spear, dispatching the animal quickly.
Kunip and Touqa rushed over to him, tugging the buffalo-yak with them. Sokka gave thanks to the nameless gods of the hunt as his companions helped him haul the seal’s carcass onto the ice.
“He's a big'un," Touqa whistled and flipped the seal over with the toe of his boot. "I think this is a good sign for you," he smiled as he and Kunip heaved the seal onto the sled. "Back home?"
Sokka admired his catch and grabbed Amarok's head affectionately. "Back home," he repeated, and ruffled the polar dog's fur. He picked up the buffalo-yak's reins and gave a great pull, spurring the animal into action. Sokka envisioned his father's pride as he returned from the first of his ritual hunts. He would clap him on the back and Katara would hug him. Yue would smile and congratulate him in that quiet way of hers. It would be nice.
Off in the distance, he heard a long, low howl and he imagined it was a Polar Bear Dog hunting. Sokka had never actually seen a Polar Bear Dog, at least not alive and up close, but he knew they roamed the south. They could be captured, but not tamed, fought but never truly defeated. Sokka admired that. His ancestors had chosen wisely when they adopted the symbol of their family.
From the direction from which they had come, Sokka heard the loud gongs from IcePoint. One gong for a celebration, two for a visitor, and three for an attack.
He stopped and listened.
One.
Two.
Sokka looked back at his companions and furrowed his brow. His father had not informed him that there would be any more visitors to the south after Yue. "Did you guys hear that?"
Kunip nodded. Sokka quickened his stride, urging the buffalo-yak to go faster. Amarok and the other hunting animals nipped at its heels, as if sensing the sudden urgency.
Their trek back was slower with the heavy weight of the seal on the sled. Sokka tried to imagine who would come to IcePoint so unexpectedly, perhaps a merchant hoping to strike up business. Even still, they wouldn’t announce a mercantile visitor.
The citadel's highest point came into view at last. Sokka could see nothing out of the ordinary. They passed through the frozen overhangs and Sokka saw his father's greatest friend, Bato, heading towards them. Sokka halted as the man approached them.
“What's going on?" Sokka asked and Bato frowned. "I heard the gong."
Bato looked back over his shoulder. "There has been an unannounced visitor to the palace," he answered, "a Fire Nation envoy arrived this morning without notification."
There was a collective gasp. The Fire Nation was made up of psychotic pyromaniac imperialists, at least that's what Sokka had heard, and the letter that his father had gotten had done nothing to dispute that. However the naval ships had not announced anything out of the ordinary in the sunrise report to the chieftain- it was not unusual to see Fire Nation ships alongside those from the Earth Kingdoms moored in the port, typically merchants coming in peace for ore and pelts.
“Where are they?" Sokka had decided his catch would wait. Bato led him and his friends across IcePoint to the central courtyard where they received visitors.
There stood his father and the girls, and his father's warriors flanking them.
Before them was a group of men in black and red armor, their skin pale and eyes brown and gold. Fire Navy, not merchants. Sokka tensed. They were unarmed and stood without hostility but he still felt on edge at their unannounced arrival. Sokka knew his father well enough to recognize he was both calculating and fuming.
Sokka strode to Hakoda's side and took his place at his right hand. He caught the gaze of a man who seemed to be his father's age, with a sharp, mean gaze and full sideburns. He wore a sash and medallions that indicated he was of a higher standing than the others. "Why are they here?"
Hakoda glared. "They come in peace. Unannounced peace, but deserving of a right to an audience all the same.” The growl in his voice did not go unnoticed by his son. “They've come to help persuade us to allow them to worship in the south." He sounded disgusted, arms crossed before his chest.
One of the lower ranking Fire Nation men bowed and reached behind him. He dragged forward a heavy black chest and set it before the chief of the south pole. Without speaking, he opened it. "From the Phoenix King,” he declared with relish, “to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. To the friend of the Fire Nation.”
Inside the chest were gold coins, filled to the brim. Sokka reached into the chest and picked up one, testing the weight of it and biting it. "It's real," he said and tossed it back amongst the pile. The Southerners had no true desire for gold, they worked through trade, but their international business partners often sent it anyway. They had made themselves rich and influential with the natural resources provided to them in the bowels of the continent.
"The Phoenix King wouldn't send anything that wasn't of value," The man with the sideburns snapped before tempering his tone. Sokka saw his father’s men take a half step forward."Take it as payment for your time. With us we’ve brought seventy chests of the same size or greater. You are a friend of the Fire Nation after all. Our lord and king only wanted to…sweeten his proposal.”
Hakoda was not impressed. "I have given the Phoenix King my answer already," he replied sharply. "I'm terribly sorry for the waste of your energy and time..."
"Zhao," the man with the sideburns finished, "Commander Zhao of the Southern Fleet." He seemed to smirk and Sokka found something about him very agitating. Perhaps his facial hair. "We traveled for four weeks just to come to the south," he said, "surely you can show us hospitality."
Katara grabbed Sokka's sleeve. "He knows he'll make Dad look bad if he refuses," she hissed. "Their ship just came up unexpectedly and now he wants us to show them hospitality!"
Hakoda nostrils flared. "Bato," he called out, "find these Fire Nation navy-men some rooms for the night, and let the cook know that he'll be serving a few more people tonight." He looked at the commander and jerked his head. "Follow me."
Two of his father's men picked up the chest and carried it inside. The others flanked the Fire Nation men, hands on their spears and clubs. Commander Zhao was the first to step after Sokka’s father. As he passed the children Sokka saw the commander's eyes travel first over to Yue before sliding over to Katara, an ugly, smug, smile crossing his lips. His lecherous gaze roved over them until Kunip loudly cleared his throat.
Sokka felt his blood begin to boil. No one looked at his sister like that. No one looked at his sister, period.
Yue drifted closer to him and Sokka saw that her blue eyes were large and anxious. "What's going on?" She asked and Sokka wondered if she regretted coming to the south.
"It'll be okay," Sokka said to her, "I'll protect you if something goes wrong." He flexed his muscles and Yue giggled softly though her mirth didn’t reach her eyes. "I promise." Sokka was many things, but a liar was not one of them. Perhaps a stretcher of truths, but not a liar. "Let me tell you about this seal I caught..."
Sokka told her about the hunt and decided that no peculiar visitors would ruin the first day of his ritual hunt, and that no firebender would come to the south and try to take anything, with gold or without. With Touqa and Kunip he escorted his sister and Yue to their quarters and for once Katara had the common sense not to rebel.
“Don’t come out unless you have one of us or the guards with you,” Sokka commanded as he saw them to the door. “I mean it, Katara.”
His sister’s spine straightened and she spun on him, eyes ablaze. At the look on his face she instantly deflated. She cast a wary glance at him and his sworn brothers. “I don’t like this, Sokka.”
Sokka put a hand on her cheek as he pulled the door closed. “I know,” he muttered, “I don’t either. But just do what I say. Please. I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.” Their little fingers intertwined. “I promise.”
Chapter 9: Red
Chapter Text
Yue
Yue awoke to the sound of birdsong and dogs barking and a quiet rap on the door. She squinted at the relentless morning light that came in through the panoramic window in Katara’s bed chamber, not for the first time wondering how the girl got any sleep at all with the cold wind and blinding reflection of the snow always finding its way inside. She unfurled herself and stretched her limbs, jolting when she made contact with the still form of the sleeping princess.
She spent the night in Katara's room, as she had done for the last two nights ever since the firebenders came.
Aside from the constant knees in her back and occasional slap in the face by an errant hand, having Katara as a bed partner was far from terrible. She had curled up next to the southern princess and Katara had told her stories, some of which Yue was sure had been made up or fabricated. She had listened until Katara had stopped talking and she had looked up to see that the younger princess had fallen asleep. The night before had been much of the same.
Yue wondered if this is what having a sister felt like.
Katara stirred, grumbling protests with her eyes still closed. Yue nudged her gently, jostling her shoulder as she rose from the plush bed. There was plenty of room for them to sleep on opposite sides but nevertheless they had found themselves curled together like puppies, an ancestral habit from the days before thick blankets and readily available fireplaces. Yue stuck her feet into her slippers and padded to the door. After a heartbeat (just enough to compose herself) she opened it.
One of the Southern chief’s bloodsworn warriors stood in the threshold, his arms crossed over his chest and a disinterested look on his face, as if he could think of a myriad of other things to do that were better than waking up two princesses. To his left was one of Yue’s own guardsmen that had sailed south with her, though his expression was more scandalized at the sight of the princess in a state of early morning disarray.
From her time in the south, Yue had learned that it wasn't terribly inappropriate to be seen in one's night clothes. She had even seen Hakoda himself in the early stretches of the morning seated in the ice garden in little more than a thin shirt and night pants. Back home, one was expected to be washed and dressed before the morning meal had even been prepared. Sleeping in was unacceptable for a princess of the north.
“The Chief calls upon you both, princess.” The Southern guardsman said gruffly.
"We'll be dressed in a minute, alright?" She responded and closed the door, slipping over to Katara's wardrobe. Yue was taller and thinner than the southern girl, but she figured that Katara would not mind. She had brought trunk loads upon trunk loads of formal gowns, tunics, shifts, leggings, dresses, down parkas and anoraks and an even greater arrangement of boots and slippers but her rooms were across the hall and the urgency in the man’s voice suggested he was loath to wait. She opened the wardrobe, studying the many dresses and leggings that Katara owned, nearly as many as Yue. They were varying shades of blue, some elaborately detailed and others simple. She pulled out a pair of under-leggings and a lavender colored shift. She had only seen Katara in blues and deep violets, nothing quite so pale. Yue held it up to her frame and imagined how she would look.
“Wear that!" Katara said and Yue jumped. She had not heard her wake up. The younger girl was behind her, studying the cloth. "It's not really mine," she admitted bashfully, "it belongs to Gran-Gran. She said our Pa-Pa gave it to her as a gift. I don't think she would mind if you wore it, though. It'd probably look better on you than it would on me. It’s cut in the Northern style."
Yue tried to picture the fall of the dress. It would look lovely, she thought. Katara took her white hair into her hands, "you always wear that same ornament."
She meant the pale blue headpiece that Yue used to hold her hair in place. The comb had a carving of the Northern Water Tribe symbol, the moon on one side and the Koi fish on the other. It lay now on the table at the bedside. Yue's mother had once told her that the comb had more value than some people would ever see in a lifetime. That had made Yue feel sick to her stomach before her mother had told her that the spirits had chosen them to be fortunate. "It has sentimental value," Yue replied.
Katara nodded in understanding, touching the necklace at her throat. It was her mother's necklace, given to her by her husband's mother who had come from the north pole. It had been a betrothal necklace, a northern tradition. Yue figured she would have her own, one day when her family chose a husband for her.
Yue dressed quickly and quietly, unlike Katara who seemed to always wrestle in and out of her clothes. Sokka had told her that as a child, after their mother died, Katara had insisted on doing everything on her own, even though she had been four years old.
The chief's wife seemed to be like a ghost, some kind of lingering spirit that danced just on the edge of everyone's mind, visible but out of reach. Yue couldn't imagine losing her mother, no matter how cold she could be at times.
When the last garment had been fitted, Yue nodded to Katara and the younger princess opened the door. The stoic warriors still stood posted. "Are you ready?" He asked.
Katara stepped outside of her room. "Did you really stand there all night?" She asked and Yue closed the door behind her. "Is it because of those Fire Nation sailors?"
"Your father's orders," the man said by way of answer. He led them down the corridor towards the great hall. Yue knew it was true, the chief had given them in escort because of the yellow-eyed sailors. She had not missed the hungry looks they gave her and Katara, the way they had seemed to remove their clothing with their eyes. For a people that put such high value on honor it seemed that the men were lacking it. Yue thought that was very chivalrous of Hakoda, but she knew that it was just a father's drive to keep his daughter safe. Her own father would’ve done the same.
Yue's nurse, Yugoda, joined them on the way to the great dining hall. Yugoda had spent much of her time with her old friend, the chief's mother while Yue had adapted to the south on her own. She walked beside Yue and normally, the white-haired girl would've reached for her hand, but she found that the gesture gave her no comfort.
Katara's brother and father were already seated at the head table, facing the Fire Nation sailors on the other side. They wore brilliant shades of red, along with black. They sat straight-backed and tense, and Yue cast a nervous glance at her friend. Katara strode over to her father, chin held high, and sat beside him, glaring openly at their guests. Yue wouldn't have dared to do the same had she been at home.
"Good morning," Sokka greeted them, overly chipper as they took their seats. He smiled in a way that did not quite reach his eyes.
Yue glanced across the table. Several of the Fire Nation sailors were staring, their eyes warming her skin as if their golden gazes carried heat. Her hair, she remembered, they had never seen a white-haired teenager. She was a freak to them. She wondered if most Fire Nationers understood courtesy. Or at least tact. Not this group, clearly.
Breakfast was brought forth, a morning soup. It was common in the North as well, but there was no set recipe and thus it varied from household to household. Yue inhaled. Imported spices and tundra vegetables, and fish. It was filling, but not terribly heavy.
Yue watched as the Fire Nation sailors exchanged nervous looks with each other and she heard Katara snicker. One of them took a spoonful and she saw his face change. He grimaced at the texture and then swallowed, seeming placated at the blend of flavors.
The man with the full sideburns picked up his cup of imported Earth Kingdom coffee and took a full sip, as if it did not burn his mouth. "I was hoping you had slept on the Phoenix King's offer. It’s been two days.” He drummed his fingers on the table. "Surely chests full of gold and treasure would appeal even to you."
Hakoda's brows knit together. He put his hands flat on the table and Yue saw his anger surfacing. She had learned that both Hakoda and his children were expressive, emotional people. She had learned they were prone to yelling and outbursts of laughter, uncouth behaviors that would make her mother faint. Certainly not the most diplomatic of people, but their charm and giving hearts won them over to most. "I've told you before just as I have told your king, my answer is and will continue to be no." He narrowed his eyes and Yue thought they looked like hard chips of ice. "We've shown you hospitality, but that is all we can offer. When will you take your leave?”
Yue watched the man with the horrid sideburns and saw rage rise up in his yellow eyes, an unrestrainedness that almost made her feel afraid even from where she sat. He gripped his cup and she saw his cup of coffee begin to steam and almost boil over.
He sipped.
"I understand," Commander Zhao said finally after he set his cup down, unbothered by the fact that he had drunk a boiling beverage. He turned to finish his soup. His fellow Fire Nationers looked at him and Yue watched him closely, feeling a sort of nervous disgust in her stomach. "We will depart before nightfall."
Hakoda made a sound of agreement in his throat. “We shall see to it that you are amply supplied for your journey back home. I bid you calm waters and safe travels.” He tugged on Bato, his right hand man, and the man dipped his ear close to the chieftain’s lips. Yue was too far to hear the whispered words but Bato nodded and gestured to the other men in the corners of the room, silently slipping away. Hakoda pushed Sokka from his seat and beckoned for him to follow.
"Good," Katara muttered under her breath and Yue suppressed her giggle. The southern princess set her bowl aside and looked towards her father. "May I leave?"
Hakoda acquiesced and Katara pushed away from the table, grabbing Yue's hand. She pulled her from her seat and Yue stumbled after her as they left the dining hall. "Where are we going?"
Katara shrugged. "I don't know, yet, but those firebenders are weird ." She grabbed Yue's hand and the older girl noticed that the waterbender's hands were smooth and soft, and cool. "Sokka said it must be their climate."
Yue nodded. She had learned that the Phoenix King had slain his own brother and ascended the throne as both the Lord of the Fire Nation and as ruler of the loosely connected realm of kingdoms. The heat caused something in them to have a propensity for violence and fierce tempers. The few merchants she had seen had been pleasant enough, but most men favored neutrality in the face of business. Besides, Fire Nation was very far away, she thought, so there wasn't much to fear. The naval men had traveled a full month to reach the Tribe. Logistically it would be foolish to attempt anything.
Somehow, Yue found herself following Katara to the kennels. Yue did not find the smell and sound of animals as nice as Katara did, but she had grown to love the polar dogs, knowing most by name. There was Aga and Tala, the two older females that belonged to Katara. Amarok, Aga’s littermate, and Desna were Sokka’s favorites, and then her own puppy, Tui.
"Aga," Katara clicked her tongue as they approached the large nests and the large canine leaped free, bounding over to her. She wagged her tail, leaping up to put her large paws on the princess’s shoulders. Tala, whose fur was the color of charcoal, trotted over much slower. "I wonder if they have polar dogs in the Fire Nation?"
Yue grinned cheekily “Absolutely. Tropical island nations definitely have a need for arctic animals," she said and she was sure Sokka would be proud of her sarcasm. Tui bounced over to her, lapping at her hand and Yue stroked the coarse white fur. The dog was proving to be dainty like her mother, though spirited. Desna, her brother, was wild and was proving to be as fierce and intelligent as Amarok. He even grew faster than Tui, nearly double her size. The two were gone, presumably retrieved by Sokka earlier that morning.
Katara glared sourly at her.
Yue sat on the ground beside Katara, hoping that her lovely gown wouldn't get dirty. Katara didn't seem to mind, however, and she watched the polar dogs chase each other in play. "Katara," Yue began slowly and looked at her hands, "I think...I love it here," she said. When she arrived in the south, she had feared that the year would be dreadful. In the almost two months since her arrival however, she found that she enjoyed the wildness of the south. The ice in the north was cold and regal, while the south pole was unforgiving and emotional, as if it lived and breathed on its own. Its people were just as volatile.
The darker haired princess seemed pleased. She sank her head onto Yue’s lap, blinking languidly as Yue re-braided her hair. “I knew you would.” She watched the polar dogs play, her fingers idly dancing and Yue noticed the ice moving beneath her hands. They sat in a quiet, comforting silence, a stillness that was unusual for Katara. Yue thought it was peaceful, where Katara was normally a rushing cascade, now she was a gentle stream.
Yue closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would've been like if she had remained in the north and Katara had instead come to spend a year with her. She tried to imagine Katara giving up her bending, or being forced to simply be a healer, she tried to imagine her friend being an obedient daughter. She had learned that Polar Bear Dogs could not be tamed.
She wasn’t sure how much time they passed watching the canines run across the kennel yard. It may have been an hour, perhaps more.
And then there was the sound of yelling, the devastating sounds of ice cracking and things being thrown and tossed. The vicious roar of fire soon followed, trailed by the smell of smoke and suddenly Katara cried out as she sat bolt upright. Her face was painted in terror.
Yue screamed.
Fire Nation soldiers had appeared in the courtyard, flames at their fists. They advanced forward as one menacing unit, a cohesive blur of armor and flame. Katara scrambled quickly to her feet, snapping her wrist and forming an ice whip. Her combat training took control and her body slid easily into a fighting stance. Yue crawled backward on her hands and knees, hiding behind the younger girl’s legs.
One of the soldiers fired a blast and the whip turned to steam. Katara pulled her hand back with a cry of alarm, shaking her hand furiously to ease the burn. Yue pressed closer to the southerner as the soldiers closed in. She snatched up Tui, holding the polar dog against her chest. One of the sailors leaned down and grabbed her arm and she wailed at his scorching hot touch. She wondered if she would die here, so suddenly and painfully.
Aga threw herself at one of the men, her powerful jaws clamping down on his arm. The firebender shouted in surprise, spinning in circles to dislodge the canine. Tala and Aklaq tore into another man’s legs, wrenching him one way and then another. Yukka and Innik, hulking black and white war dogs, dragged a third firebender to the ground. His screams filled the air.
A flash of fire caused the polar dogs to retreat back with singed fur. The firebender in front of Yue hauled her to her feet, dragging her across the courtyard and back into the main halls of IcePoint. Tui yelped and Yue could hear Katara struggling, screaming wildly and kicking, like an animal. When she looked over she saw that her friend was slung carelessly over a firebender’s shoulder. She beat viciously at his back and helmet, her fists falling again and again to no avail. The polar dogs howled.
The sailors hauled them through the halls of the citadel. Yue looked back at Katara. The younger girl was flailing her limbs, making her body as heavy as possible, but her arms had been restrained so she could not bend. "Let go of me!" She snarled, every bit a Polar Bear Dog in that moment. "Let me go! I’ll kill you all! Let me go!”
They were dragged to the dining hall and Yue was forced unceremoniously onto her knees, hands wrenched behind her back. Her polar dog pressed fearfully against her thigh, shivering and whimpering. Katara was thrown down beside her with a cry, glaring dangerously at the Fire Nationers. The man who had carried her yanked hard on her braid, jerking her head back and forth to silence her.
The doors of the hall opened and Yue felt nauseous at the carnage before her. The dining hall had been painted in the ugliest shade of red Yue had ever seen. It was splattered on the tables and the walls. Pools of it crept across the floor.
The chief's guards lay splayed on the ground, their weapons still in their hands and their eyes filled with both hatred and horror. Beside them lay an elderly woman and Yue felt tears well up in her eyes. It's not her, she thought, that's not my Yugoda.
Yue's eyes traveled across the room and she saw the Chief forced on his knees with Commander Zhao of the Fire Nation standing above him, Hakoda's own bone dagger in his hand and his palms glowing with firebending. The stench of burning hair filled the room.
Zhao looked up at the princesses and smiled cruelly. "This, you see, is the unfortunate end that befalls those who oppose the Phoenix King." He yanked Hakoda's head back by his hair and Yue saw that the man's face remained defiant, his eyes glittering with both animosity and a regal sort of acceptance, a man who did not fear death or fire, but instead faced it with dignity.
"Don't look, Katara," Hakoda ordered, his voice steady and loving, sounding every bit as a father should despite the nightmare transpiring. "Don't look, Yue. You will not give him the satisfaction."
Yue squeezed her eyes shut, tight enough that she could see colors flickering across her lids and tight enough that the tears she had been holding back oozed from the corners of her eyes, warm and salty and stinging. "You will not give him the satisfaction, you will not give him the satisfaction." It's not real.
"The South will stand!" Hakoda shouted.
Yue could not, would not, open her eyes. A sob was forced out of her and she tried to swallow the next one down, but it could not be contained. Her throat felt raw. "This is not real," she whispered, "this is not real."
The Fire Nation sailor behind her delivered a devastating blow to the back of her head and Yue found that she could not even cry out. She bit her tongue. Blood welled in her mouth. Her eyes involuntarily opened and Yue saw red.
Black crawled over the edges of her vision, until Yue could only see the devastation before her. Then, even that faded and Yue felt herself falling forward, her cheek smashing painfully against the stone floor.
"This is not real."
Chapter 10: Captive
Chapter Text
Katara
One of the Fire Nation soldiers shoved Katara hard, causing her to momentarily lose her step and stumble. He caught her shoulder before she could fall and snatched her back against his armor clad chest. Katara swallowed hard as he tied rope around her wrists. It was tight, but she found it did not affect her. Pain was beyond her. She saw only the red on the walls and on the floor, and the black on the wall where the naval soldiers had charred it with their bending. She saw her family's friends and servants laying dead or unconscious on the floor. And every time she blinked, she saw her father.
He had told her to look away, to not give the firebenders the satisfaction of forcing her to watch, but she hadn't been able to look away. She had seen everything. She had seen it.
Katara had only been able to scream. The firebender holding her had warmed his hands, and still she screamed. She had screamed until he silenced her with a blow with his gauntlet to the back of her head that rendered her unconscious . When she awoke, she had been lying beside Yue on the dining hall floor. Yue had still been unconscious. The Fire Nation soldiers had piled up the most valuable things they could find in the corridors.
The firebender lifted Katara to her feet. The one beside him scooped up Yue and her polar dog, putting her over his shoulder and tucking Tui against his hip. "What do we do with them?" The man carrying Yue asked. "We can't kill them."
"Says who?" The man named Zhao smirked. "But no, they'll be a...ransom of sorts, back in the Fire Nation. If their people still see the need to rebel, we'll have something important to them." He caught Katara's gaze and she lunged at him. The firebender restraining her pulled her back, tightening his grip on her forearm. His hand was hot. "And with no chief, they'll be without order."
"The South will never bend to the Fire Nation," Katara snapped, "not to you or your stupid king!"
Zhao smirked and produced a flame in his hand, holding it close to Katara's face. She flinched. "I admire your people's pride, truly I do considering you all live in blocks of ice. But you see, little girl, your father the chief is dead. The South has one knee bent already. And once you are in the Fire Nation, they'll grovel at the Phoenix King's feet."
She spat in his face.
Zhao pulled away in disgust, eyes blazing. "Take the other girl and put her on the first ship, and because I feel kind, let her keep the polar dog, " he ordered, "but I want this one to watch." He laughed.
Katara watched as the firebender carried Yue away and another followed, gingerly holding the pup as it squirmed and yapped in protest. "You already killed my father," she snarled, "I hope you know that nothing you can do can break us."
"I'm certain I have my ways," Zhao chuckled and turned to the pile of valuables on the ground. He knelt and picked up Hakoda's bone dagger, and cleaned it. Depositing it into his belt the man put his back to the scene. He nodded and the man restraining Katara pulled her backwards, towards the exit of the dining hall.
Zhao conjured a ball of fire and hurled it at the pile of valuables. It caught fire almost immediately, with a roar and a brilliant flash of light. The furs and tapestries were destroyed quickly. The iron jewelry melted into a shapeless puddle. Katara shied away from the flame and the sudden smoke, feeling tears slide down her cheeks. Zhao grinned and brushed by them. "Burn it to the ground," he said casually and patted Katara on the cheek, his hand still warm. "Burn it all to the ground."
The Fire Nation soldier threw Katara over his shoulder once more and she watched helplessly as the dining hall caught fire, the flames licking at the walls. She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She saw the golden and orange flames dancing across her eyelids, and she saw her father, his last stand against the Fire Nation and she told herself that even though his blood was on the floor, she would be strong.
The trail of black smoke followed them and Katara gasped for air, flailing her legs. The soldier caught them and held on painfully, quickening his stride.
When Katara opened her eyes, they were outside of the fortress and on the road that led to the docks. She saw Zhao up ahead and the sailor carrying Yue just in front of her. The white-haired princess's head lolled to the side, her braids coming loose. Katara wished she could waterbend with her mind. Perhaps she could bend the water and freeze the firebenders, perhaps she could find Sokka...
Sokka.
Katara opened her mouth to call for her brother but thought better of it. Sokka was somewhere else, she thought, hopefully safe. Hopefully.
Katara thought about the snow and the ice, and her mother and her grandmother, and the stories she had told her. She did not think about her father or Sokka, she did not think about herself. She pictured a tiny white light and she called that light, hope.
That, she told herself, would never die.
The group of murderers walked on triumphantly. The dark mass that was the Fire Nation’s naval ship appeared before it, its banner snapping in the wind. A firebender blocked her view with his broad hand, holding up a strip of cloth. He wrapped it around her eyes, blindfolding her. She didn't need it, she wanted to tell him, because even though he covered her eyes she would still see, and she would remember.
She heard the ocean, a sound that was normally constant and gentle, but now it seemed too loud and violent. The salty air of the docks suddenly made her gag. She heard the clanking of boots against a metal ramp and then she was set roughly on the ground. She found that it, too, was metal. It was cold enough to pierce through her clothing. She hadn’t been able to dress in a parka, instead wearing the leggings and dress from breakfast. The rope on her wrists was removed and Katara moved to rub her wrists, but her arms were forced to her sides by her capturer.
He marched her along, her steps resonating around her. The air grew warmer and Katara could feel the ocean beneath her, swaying the naval ship. She could feel the ever-present hum of the water and the twitch of her fingers. She was a waterbender and it called to her, even now when she was separated from the ocean by metal and wood.
“Watch your step," the firebender said, more kindly than Katara had expected. He guided her up a set of stairs with one hand tightly gripping her and the other gingerly nudging her in the small of her back. "I'm not responsible for any busted lips."
"You're responsible for anything happening to me," Katara growled to him, "if you hurt me, then you'll have to pay. My people won't stand for it." She placed one foot on the step, tapping her heel to feel her way along.
Another man’s hands suddenly groped her backside. Katara yelped, bucking against her captor. The new firebender cackled, pulling her closer to him. He ducked his head until his hot breath was on her neck. “There’s a lot of things I’d like to be responsible for,” he sneered. “I always wondered what’s under those furs of yours?”
Zhao’s voice rang out on the other side of her ear. The man yanked Katara’s head back by her hair, his fingers digging into her scalp. “As tempting as it may be, men, the Phoenix King will value your efforts more if the girls keep their…” his free hand grasped at her chest, “virtue.” Katara sobbed in anger as both men ran their hands over her body, pinching and prodding. They jeered at her discomfiture. “Of course I can turn a blind eye if you show restraint. What can they do to stop you?”
Katara bared her teeth. “I’ll kill you!”
He chortled. "Little girl, your father was just killed, do you not understand what that means? It means the south has already fallen, it means this miserable block of ice has no leader. It means you have already lost." Katara could not see him, but she imagined his expression would be one of mockery. She wanted to claw his eyes out.
They reached the final step and continued down a narrow corridor for a few paces. The firebender holding her arms raised his leg and kicked in what sounded like a door, tearing off her blindfold in one fluid motion. He had led her to a room, which Katara found confusing. She had been expecting a bare prison cell. It wasn't terribly small and she was sure that aside from the color, it was decent for a prisoner.
The room was red.
Katara's stomach turned and she swallowed audibly, turning back to the firebender. He loomed over her, yellow eyes scanning her face. He grimaced at the fear plastered on her countenance. “I’m a father, girl,” he ground out, almost offended by her wordless accusation. “I have a daughter of my own. I’ve no desire to touch little girls.” She trembled. “They’re a sorry lot, but they won’t do anything more to you than what they already have. I will make sure of that.”
It sounded like something a true father would say, but it did little to assuage her fears. “I don’t trust you.”
“I don’t expect you to,” he responded. “But I’ll ensure it on my own honor as a man and father. As long as I breathe and you remain under the custody of this ship, they will not touch you.” Without further comment he stepped out and closed the door, and Katara heard it lock into place, leaving her alone.
Katara sank against the wall and put her head in her hands. The red spun around her, and Katara saw her grandmother standing before her. She saw her brother and she saw Yue. Her father lay before her and Katara thought she might retch.
The horn of the naval ship sounded as the vessel pulled away from the docks of the Southern Water Tribe, leaving the smoldering remains of IcePoint behind. Katara curled up into a ball and sobbed into her hands. She vomited in the chamber pot in the corner of the room.
A soldier banged against her door, yelling out perverse obscenities in an attempt to frighten her. Katara shouted back at him using the words she had often heard her father’s men say when they thought she wasn’t listening but she never had the gall to utter herself. A symphony of snickers and cackling was their response. Their voices faded away as they left her in solitude, spurred on by the vitriolic orders of their Commander.
Katara drew her legs up to her chest and hugged herself. Her mother sat next to her, her hand laying on Katara's shoulder. The apparition was at least how Katara imagined her mother would look, her lovely blue eyes and soft brown skin. "It'll be alright," the illusion of her mother told her, "you must have hope."
"You must have hope," Katara repeated and looked down at her hands.
The ocean beneath her swayed and sang its ancient song, its wordless hum resonating through her veins until Katara could feel it dancing in every part of her being, raising the hairs on her arms and tightening her muscles, and coursing through her blood. She set her breaths to the push and pull of the sea, to the heartbeat of the ocean spirit, and for a long time, there was nothing but the water.
Chapter 11: Left Behind
Chapter Text
Sokka
"What are you doing? Let go!" Sokka snarled as Bato pulled him along, dragging him through the ice and the snow. "My dad and sister are back there, what are you doing?!" Several of his father's warriors pushed him forward and Sokka fought against them. "Bato!" Sokka’s dogs nipped at his heels when he tried to stop. They had been on the run for nearly two hours now, deeper into the unadulterated tundra, miles away from the coast and IcePoint. At last they slowed to a walk. The muscles in Sokka’s legs were protesting.
His father's friend had dragged him out of the dining hall just before chaos erupted and had not released him until they were away from IcePoint, initially running alongside the ocean, close enough to it that Sokka could taste the salt water if he breathed hard enough. They had then veered sharply and set on the path they were currently on. The sounds of fighting had followed them, fading away under the sound of crunching snow and ice and their labored breathing. Bato had clouted him upside the head every time he tried to turn back. Kunip had threatened to beat him with a club.
There were signs they were approaching a small town. High poles with lanterns were posted on a well trodden path through the tundra, a road cut by sleds and wagons. The short mid-afternoon was already giving way to sunset. Sokka struggled, wrenching his arm from Bato's steel grip. "We have to go back!"
The lanky man slowed to a stop and was silent, looking at Sokka with some combination of anguish and resolve. "Your father is dead," he said at last, "your father and sister are dead." He sighed, a tired sort of sigh that made his thin shoulders drag. The other men crowded around, peering out anxiously from underneath their hoods."I could only save one of you, Sokka."
A thousand emotions crashed over Sokka at once. "What?" He said and he heard his voice crack. He swallowed. "What did you say?"
Bato looked down at his boots. "Your father knew he would not live today, before the sun rose he knew today would be his last," he said it so quietly that Sokka had to strain to hear him. "He came to me and told me to save you two," a tear slithered down his cheek, "but I could only save one. I had no choice, Sokka."
Hakoda had gestured for Bato to leave the hall moments before it all fell apart. The firebenders had bided their time at the breakfast table, waiting until the perfect moment to attack. Sokka had heard the beginnings of the conflict as Bato released the war dogs and kicked them into scouting ahead. He had wasted no time dragging Sokka away from IcePoint, forcing him to run without question.
Sokka tried to imagine his sister. He had no doubt that she could defend herself, but not against firebenders. There was no way. "You should've saved Katara," his voice rose to a shout, "you had time, you should've saved her, not me. Why didn’t you save my sister?!”
Bato averted his gaze.
Kunip, his friend, clasped his shoulder. "Sokka," he said and turned the younger man around so that he faced the way they had come, so that over the snow mounds he could see the rising swell of black smoke from where IcePoint should've been. "Look."
The South was on fire.
His home was on fire. Sokka clenched his jaw and his fists and Kunip held him in place, as if he would fall over any moment. Sokka watched the thick black smoke rise and spread out over the sky. He watched for a long time. His legs grew weak and buckled. He sat in the snow and put his head in his hands. He imagined the Fire Nation infiltrators raiding his home before they set it ablaze, imagining all the people he had known suddenly be gone, as if a great spirit had blown out a candle. He imagined his sister.
Sokka felt sick. "What about the city and IcePoint? It's burning down!" He looked back at Bato and the older man looked back at him, his eyes apologetic and angry at the same time. "You're letting it burn down! We have to go back! We can’t let it burn down, Bato!”
"I had no choice," Bato repeated and turned away, walking through the snow. He suddenly appeared to be eighty years old. The other men nudged Sokka along, and he could see that their jaws were tight and their eyes red. A few with weaker hearts were weeping into their gloves. "Sokka."
Part of Sokka knew it was right. It was only logical to save one member of the royal family when he couldn't save the others. From a pragmatic perspective it was better to save the male heir who could not only fight but also ensure that the dynasty continues. Still, he wished that Bato had rescued Katara instead. Perhaps both Yue and Katara, if it had been possible. Yue didn't deserve it. None of them did.
Life’s not fair, Sokka, he told himself. He had been fortunate, he was born into a loving family and had no wants that could not be fulfilled. Except perhaps the want of a mother, but that couldn't be helped. It could've been worse. Much worse.
Bato embraced him, an unbreakable hug that pulled Sokka against his chest. Sokka breathed in the older man's scent, for once unashamed at the display of "unmanliness". Bato smelled like the last remnants of the south, of what had just been destroyed and Sokka was not one for sentiment, but his eyes began to sting.
"Bato," he whispered, words for Bato's ear alone, "I'm sad. And I'm scared. And I don't know what to do." He felt his friend's hand on his head, felt his narrow body through the thick parka. The older man rocked his body the way he had when Sokka was a child of four and the air had been knocked out of him in the training yard.
There was a lingering silence. "You're going to avenge your family," Bato said softly, fervently. A hardness entered his voice, sharp as steel, hard as iron. "You are the last Polar Bear Dog. You're going to avenge your father and your sister, and the south." He looked down at Sokka and Sokka found that he suddenly felt very young and helpless, he couldn't remember what it was like when his mother died but he imagined this feeling was a hundred times worse.
Sokka looked back over the hills and saw the trail of black smoke. He was the ruler of a burning palace, the chief of a people now under attack. "I don't have a plan for this," he whimpered pathetically, "I never thought this would happen."
"Your father did," Bato told him, "Hakoda had considered a plan for if anything happened to him, he'd thought of this when you and Katara were still babies." Sokka hadn't known his father was so meticulous, it had never occurred to him. Hakoda had always been vibrant and friendly, unquestioning of his Tribe’s loyalty. He could not picture his father creating disaster procedures for an unexpected Fire Nation coup d’etat. "If the south ever became unsafe for you, you'd be taken to Whale Tail Island, or to the Earth Kingdoms."
“Why not the Southern Air Temple, with the airbenders?" Sokka asked. "They're pacifists."
His father's friend smiled softly, sadly. "That's exactly why. If anything happened to him or to the south, Hakoda wanted you to have someone to fight beside. Besides, the Air Nomads are crippled by the Fire Nation. Should the south fall, Hakoda wanted you to build an army."
"Dad...Dad said there would be nothing to worry about," Sokka said and as the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself. His father wasn't stupid, his father had been thinking ahead, he had made plans if something went wrong. His father had probably lain awake at night, considering every possible scenario. His father had been the biggest worrier of them all.
Sokka wondered why that made him feel so disgusted with himself. That his father had been worrying for years and he had never noticed.
Bato continued to trek through the snow, closer to the tiny town. He moved faster now and the warriors followed, almost feverishly with civilization in sight. Kunip pulled Sokka after him and the younger man could see people running towards them from the village, waving their arms to catch their attention.
A middle-aged woman was the first to meet them, followed by three men. "We saw smoke coming from IcePoint," she panted urgently to Bato, "What's happening? Is the citadel on fire?"
The lean man stopped before her, a heavy frown on his face. He looked back at Sokka. "A terrible thing has happened," he said to the group, "a group of firebenders abused our hospitality. They came three days before in hopes of persuading Hakoda to bend the knee to the Phoenix King.” He swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing with the effort. “Chief Hakoda and his guard, and daughter were… killed. IcePoint is burning as we speak...the south...the south is defeated."
The woman looked appalled and tears sprang into her eyes. The Polar Bear Dogs were beloved throughout the south, they were a dynasty that both loved and were loved by their people. Unvoiced sobs wracked her body under her parka. "It can't be," she exclaimed, "it's not possible, we're not at war! I don’t understand, I don’t understand!”
Bato sighed. "Not yet, at least. But now the Tribe is without a capital and is at the mercy of the Fire Nation. If we were to retaliate now, the south would surely be completely destroyed," he pulled Sokka forward and presented him to the group of villagers, "we have Sokka, we have our chief." Sokka forced himself to look bigger and braver. "And when the fire has burned out, we'll return to see what survived."
IcePoint was made of ice and stone, Sokka thought, there had to be something that survived. The fortress had stood for thousands of years.
The middle aged woman and the group of men guided them the rest of the way into the town and into the first building, a longhouse that served as their meeting place, seat of council, and infirmary. The first thing that Sokka noticed was that it was warm and brightly lit, yet somehow comforting at the same time. The woman led them to a wide room decorated with chairs that had soft furs thrown over them. A number of men and women appeared with blankets to throw over the exhausted warriors.
Sokka flopped down, exhaling loudly. The older woman looked sympathetically at him. Sokka sank into his seat, feeling the fur covering underneath his fingertips. "Why did we come here?"
"Because it was the first place I thought of," Bato replied, almost sheepishly. He looked down at his feet, something Sokka noticed he did when he was at a conflict. It was almost a childish gesture. "I had to get you to safety quickly.”
For a brief moment, Sokka considered the irony of the situation. Just a day ago, he had been confident that the Fire Nation could not touch them. Now his home was on fire and his family slaughtered. In a matter of hours.It was almost laughable. If Sokka was one for tears, it would've been worth crying about. Tears were Katara's specialty.
The woman flicked her wrist and one of the men who had accompanied her hurried away. "This doesn't feel real," she said and sat. "This all feels like some kind of joke. A very unfunny one, but a joke nonetheless."
"Tell me about it!" Sokka drawled.
"We'll need to borrow a few sleds," Bato turned to the woman, "and some lanterns. We're not just going to salvage IcePoint, but we're going to take care of survivors as well. Sokka will become chief and the tribe will have a leader, and we'll go from there." He tapped his feet, "it can be done in a day or two after the fire burns out. I don’t want to risk anyone in the shadow city getting hurt.”
"You're being too optimistic," Sokka wanted to say but held his tongue. The man who had been sent away returned, carrying a tray of tea and seal jerky. He passed each of the warriors a cup and a handful of jerky, and as he passed Sokka saw the resemblance between him and the woman. Relatives, he decided, but not mother and son.
"Anything for the new chief," the woman stated and Sokka knew that she meant it, "anything for the south."
After two days the smoke was finally unable to be seen from the village. Bato gathered the warriors and the dogs, leashing them to the lighter sled. The others were hitched to arctic oxen and camels and were loaded so each of the men could have a turn riding to alleviate their feet. The villagers had generously provided medical supplies, clothing, and food not only for the men but for any survivors. The day before Bato had sent out a message to the city by the port requesting that they send out any able bodied man and waterbender available.
The sun was just beginning to rise.
"Are you sure you want to see this?" Bato asked. He stood at the helm of the entourage, bundled in his anorak and a fur lined cloak. “There might not be anything left. It definitely won't be pretty. There’s no shame in remaining behind- we can return for you."
Sokka gazed at the lanterns hanging from the arctic camel's harness, at the sled attached to the rings hanging from it. Then he looked at the snow mounds, where the smoke had finally disappeared and the sky was growing pale pink as the sun crested the horizon. "I don't know, maybe IcePoint needed some severe remodeling. Pssh, ice walls were so last century," he joked and Bato stared at him in confused horror. Sokka sighed. "I have to go. I'm the...I'm the chief now."
Bato dipped his head and held up the oil lantern in his hand. "Let's go!" He called out and the men around him began to move. The bells on the arctic camels jingled softly and the lanterns swayed with them. Sokka followed, clutching the side of the camel's harness. Amarok and Desna trotted alongside him. Togo, Aput, Darkstar, and Shadow loped in wide circles around the warriors. They fanned out from each other, responding to Bato’s whistles. Bato had forged his name by training and breeding war dogs and scouters, raising each whelp by hand. His dogs were prized throughout the region for their intelligence and drive.
They sounded a bit like a funeral procession, Sokka thought. They trekked through the snow, towards the red-orange dot in the sky. A funeral procession for the old chieftain, and the dark beginning of his own reign. Sokka, the Chief at War. That had a type of ring to it.
It seemed as though the walk back to IcePoint was much longer than before, but Sokka figured it was because his mind had been in disarray and they had been running when they fled. They were in no hurry to go back, which was understandable. Sokka wasn't sure what he was returning to, but he knew it wouldn't be home.
"We're right here for you, buddy," Kunip squeezed Sokka's arm. Touqa offered his support wordlessly, uncharacteristically somber but forgivable given the circumstances. "We're not going to let you do this alone, alright? We’re your bloodsworn warriors. Now and forever.” He looked at Sokka with a type of awe and pity, as if he could not believe that the new chief was only fifteen years old and had hunted with him countless times. As if he had not seen the boy in front of him grow up.
The final stretch back to IcePoint was in silence. Sokka glanced at Bato, seeing his thin features drawn taut, as if he had aged ten years all of a sudden. They crested the last snow mound and Sokka felt his knees grow weak. Partially from exhaustion, and the fact that below them sat IcePoint.
Or rather, what was left of it.
The formidable citadel had been half reduced to a pile of smoldering material and stone walls singed black. There were a few buildings and halls left untouched, and Sokka saw the stable animals wandering aimlessly throughout the rubble, as if unsure what to do. The interior keep and its domed roofs had suffered the most. Sokka caught the scent of things that had burned.
"Well," he shrugged, forcing his voice to be neutral, "It's not so bad."
Bato led them throughout the desolated complex. He stepped over the soot and ash, and nudged aside what appeared to be the remains of a door as they passed through a breezeway. As he moved it, a person became visible. Sokka's breath hitched in his throat as the person's fingers trembled. He raised their head, revealing a soot-stained face and reddened eyes. The person reached out and clutched Bato's hand when he knelt to his level.
"Firebenders," the man rasped and Sokka recognized him as one of his father's warriors, Cupun. "Firebenders...Hakoda.." His blue eyes were streaming, "the princesses...everybody. Killed. Bato…I tried.”
Bato looked sympathetically at Cupun, hand clasping his tightly. He said no words, but instead gestured for one of the sleds. "Take him to the village over the hill," he said, meaning the orphan village, "and tell them what has happened. Tell them to be prepared. Gather as many supplies as you can from the helpers coming from the docks.”
He continued, as if unbothered by the smoke. Sokka followed, squinting as his eyes began to feel irritated and his throat sore. He wondered if they would encounter anything unsavory, like a body.
Spirits, he thought and for a brief moment, he prayed that if the gods had any compassion at all, don't let it be Katara or Dad.
“Spread out. Look for any survivors. Keep an eye out for the princesses.” Bato waved the men off in different directions, sending the dogs after them.
Sokka heard a pained howl and the sound of a hacking cough. Bato turned to him and nodded solemnly, passing quickly over the rubble. The sound came from one of the halls that had been relatively untouched. Bato passed through an overhang and Sokka paused. "I'm pretty sure this was a wall before," he commented.
Nestled against the wall was a cluster of their family's workers. A kitchen girl had her arms thrown around a mass of dirty gray and white fur. She was the first to look up and Sokka saw that nearly all of her hair had been burned off, her skin bearing both dirt and bruises. The condition of her person was just an example of the others, and Sokka thought that if the survivors looked like that, then he didn't want to know what the victims looked like.
"It's Sokka," the kitchen girl exclaimed, "it's Sokka!"
The others looked up and Sokka saw that the mass of fur in the kitchen girl's arms was a dog. Two, Sokka realized. Yukka and Innik. They raised their heads, whimpering pitifully. The two were just as ferocious as Amarok, to see them so pitiful wounded him. He approached them and one of the servants tried to rise, but sobbed in pain. Sokka saw that his arms were horribly burned.
“They set everything on fire," the kitchen girl sniffled, "and we tried to stop them but they were too strong, or we were too late. We tried to get to the polar dogs, but we only saved three. Katara's and your two," her hands shook, "but the female ran off."
Sokka nodded absently. As much as he loved them, the polar dogs could wait. "But surely there are more survivors, right? This can't be all."
"They must've run off. Most of the guards are…” the girl answered and flinched. “We stayed here out of hope you’d come back. Why did this happen to us?! Why did the spirits allow this to happen?"
"Because," Sokka said, more bitterly than he'd anticipated, "everybody wants to rule the world."
A sled was pulled over to them and Sokka left the survivors to be tended to, wandering through the blackened halls of the citadel. Yukka and Innik limped behind Amarok and Desna, hesitant to leave their master’s sight. This wasn't home. He would rule in a palace of rubble. A fortress that couldn't withstand the attack of firebenders.
He pressed his hand against the wall, rubbing his fingers together when his hand came back blackened with soot. He roamed through the corridor until he came to the room that had once been his father's chambers, where he had made countless decisions for the good of his family and people.
It was untouched.
Hakoda's items lay in the place he left him, scrolls and parchment splayed in some kind of haphazard pattern that only the man had understood. There were paint and ink stains, and a stone meticulously chipped into the crude shape of a Polar Bear Dog. His favorite cloak hung across his seat and Sokka picked it up, setting it carefully across his shoulders. He snapped the clasp into place and sat in his father's seat- his seat now- and laid his hands flat-palmed on the desk.
For an indistinguishable amount of time, Sokka sat alone, in his own silence.
"We found him," Bato's voice said as he appeared at the door. "Do you...want see him one last time, before he's dressed for the funeral?" He lifted his leg, as though he wanted to step inside but thought better of it. "Sokka?"
Part of Sokka wanted to refuse, to keep the best image he had of his father in his mind. He rose to his feet. "Yes," he replied, "I want to see him."
His childhood guardian led him down to the dining hall where half of the wall had been disintegrated. Aid from the city had finally arrived, milling about with supplies. On a stretcher made from wood a heavy blanket was settled. Bato gently pushed the new chief forward and Kunip, who was standing guard over the stretcher, stepped aside and turned his back. Sokka could see his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress his tears.
Sokka bent and held his breath, peeling the blanket back slowly. He peeked, seeing brown hair and brown skin, and closed eyes. He looks asleep , he thought gratefully, this isn't so bad.
He pulled the rest of the cloth away.
Sokka wasn't sure what came first, the dry heaving or the choked sobs. His father’s throat was a red ruin, staining his clothing and his hands as if at the last moment he had tried to preserve his life blood. Part of his hair had been singed away. Sokka’s mind went blank. He knew that Bato grabbed his shoulders, flinging him away and throwing the blanket back over the former chief's body. Sokka lunged, throwing a blow at the nearest solid thing possible, Bato. The older man caught it easily and held Sokka against him with his arms pinning to his sides. “I hate them!" Sokka snarled through his tears, "I hate him !"
“I know," Bato wiped his own tears and stroked Sokka's hair. "I know." He sighed raggedly, thin frame heaving with the effort.
"You're a man grown now."
"I won't let you down, Dad."
He was a Polar Bear Dog, he did not bend or break. Sokka swallowed hard.
At last he pulled away from Bato and stood before the crowd of men and women that had gathered. Some were warriors, some were victims. Others had just arrived from the city and villages surrounding the capital. "There are seventy chests of gold that the yellow eyed monsters brought," he began, raising his voice as he continued, "somebody find it. And then somebody spread the news." He reached for his boomerang at his belt and turned to face Bato, who looked at him curiously. Boomerang always come back. We shall come back, too. Sokka looked at the survivors and the warriors with him. He raised his chin with a pride he did not yet feel. "The South has not fallen."
Chapter 12: The Wedding
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
The earth and grass was still damp from the night rain as Lu-Ten picked his way through it, spear in hand. The air was cool- the sun had not yet penetrated the thick tree canopy. Lu-Ten figured it would be a pleasant day, as auspicious a day as any other. He felt it in his blood and in his bones. The elders had pondered over the calendars and rattled bone dice and dragon scales over and over until a date was decided. Tonatiuh had given his consent and at last it had been finalized.
Today was the day Lu-Ten would marry.
He had awakened just as the sun rose, and to the Sun People that was a good sign. "If we don't hurry, you'll throw off everyone's timing," Lallo urged from behind him, his shorter legs working to keep pace. "Do you even remember the words, Lu-Ten?"
Lu-Ten looked back at him and scoffed. "Of course I remember the words, Lallo. What do you take me for?" He chuckled and Lallo raised his brows, a look of pure skepticism. Lu-Ten sobered. “I mean it, I remember the words."
Lallo grunted. "Don't give my sister a bad face, Lu-Ten," he pleaded, "you know she's been waiting to marry you since she was a little girl. And I agreed, because I know that you will be good to Yaretzi. Odd girl that she is." For all his good nature, he put a great importance on maintaining the honor and integrity of his sisters. Lu-Ten knew that he had only agreed to the match because Lallo loved him just as much as he adored his younger sister.
Their engagement had been solidified when Lu-Ten had trapped the leopon some few weeks ago. Lu-Ten had imagined it to just be by chance, the beast had simply miscalculated. Tuwa had called it a sign and Tonatiuh had declared it to be a good omen. Immediately after, the preparations for the wedding had begun. The leopon had been skinned and turned into an exquisite nuptial cloak, and its remains had been set alight to release its spirit.
Lu-Ten had learned that women took more pride in weddings than men. He had paid little mind to the ceremonies he attended in the past, only present because it was required. For the last week Yaretzi had been continuously bathed and showered with various sweet scents, her hair brushed until it shimmered. She had been fitted for new clothes that were sewn by the older women of the city, and covered in red ink tattoos from her feet to her forehead. She had told him, in the few times that she had been allowed to speak to him, that she had been ordered to sleep on the temple steps for two nights in a row, to become more like Citlali the Mother. For two days now she had been forbade from seeing him out of superstition.
As a man, Lu-Ten's only day of true preparation was the day of the actual wedding. He was headed to a small, clear pond in the thicket of the forest to join Tonatiuh, the leader of the Sun People, and the rest of the men, where they would dip him in the water to cleanse him. It would wash him of any impurities, so that Citlali and Tenochizun, and Agni would recognize him as a new man. He stepped through the undergrowth, hearing the ripple and gurgle of the water and dim murmur of voices. As he entered the clearing, he met the gaze of Tonatiuh. "Ah, there he is," Tonatiuh grinned. As the chief, he oversaw many of the people's events, like weddings and funerals, the birth of the first child. He clapped his hands together. “Are you ready?”
Lu-Ten smiled softly and shed his vest, passing it to Lallo. The smaller man folded it neatly as Lu-Ten knelt before Tonatiuh, dipping his head. Tonatiuh gestured for him to open his hand and Lu-Ten complied, watching as the Sun Warrior created a small golden flame. He transferred it to Lu-Ten's hands and the younger man felt his energy stir to life, keeping the flame anchored.
Fire was life, Tuwa had taught him, it gave and it took away.
"Before us and before the spirits is a man waiting to cross into the next phase of his life," Tonatiuh looked up, beyond the trees to where the sun was climbing up into the sky. "And before our witness, he will wash himself of the old and come out anew." He put his hands on Lu-Ten's shoulders, beckoning for him to step in the pond.
Lu-Ten held the flame and dipped head first into the cold crystalline water, closing his eyes. It washed over his hair and face. He held his breath.
In his mind’s eye a dragon flew by him, coiling its tail around his neck. Its golden eyes searched his own and Lu-Ten tried to pull away, but it wrapped its cerulean wings around him, immobilizing him. Lu-Ten flailed his arms. "You mustn't forget," the dragon growled, its voice surrounding him. “You will not forget." It blew a breath and Lu-Ten saw sparks of fire fall from its nostrils, drifting to the bottom of the pond.
He burst back through to the surface, gasping for breath. He spat out the water as he crawled onto the bank and shook the excess water from his hair. The others watched him curiously as he waded back to the earth and laid his head on the dirt. He looked up at Tonatiuh's face as the bigger man stood over him, offering his hand. Lu-Ten accepted it, standing. As he did so, Lallo drew closer to him. "Are you alright?"
Lu-Ten considered it for a moment. He had experienced recurring dreams lately, ever since the night in the temple. In some, he was sitting before the gods Tenochizun and Citlali, and the dragon was coiled on his shoulder. In others, he was alone on an obsidian dais in a great red room where blue and gold fire licked at the walls. Banners hung overhead. The room seemed very familiar, and Lu-Ten figured that it was some fragment of a very distant, very faded memory. Both of the dreams had unnerved him, but he didn't understand why. "Yes," he answered finally, "I'm alright."
"Good," Tonatiuh said, interrupting them, "now we have to get you back in time to get married." He clapped Lu-Ten on the shoulder, as he often did.
Lu-Ten did not love Yaretzi, at least not in the way that a man would (should) love his bride. She was lovely and interesting, a girl both beautiful and odd, but Lu-Ten did not feel the fiery, passionate love that he had witnessed in other couples. Tonatiuh had told him that he did not love his wife at first, but the spirits had kindled a fire between them and ignited a love that knew no bounds. It would come, Tonatiuh swore, he just had to be willing to accept it. The spirits would do the same for him.
The men fell into line back to the secluded city. Tonatiuh paused and jerked his head, "you walk in front today, Lu-Ten, you're going to be a new man. A married man."
Lu-Ten knew better than to argue and moved to the front. Water still trickled down his nose and soaked his hair, which had been closely shaven. The night before the most senior members of the Sun Warriors tattooed red runes on his scalp and chest. He had witnessed countless weddings, but had never realized the effort that went into the preparations.
As they entered the village-city, Lu-Ten saw Lallo's mother, Tuwa waiting for them. She stood impatiently, her scowl even more severe than usual and Lu-Ten realized that she was stretched thin between preparing both Lu-Ten and his bride. She was Yaretzi's mother and had taken part in raising Lu-Ten as a child, she had tended to his mishaps and answered his questions. She was the closest thing to a mother that he had known. He had no other mother to groom him and prepare him for the next step of adulthood.
"Come with me," she crooked her finger to him as he approached, and wasted no time taking his hand. Her grasp was warm and firm. She dragged him after her, across the dirt and stone village center. Her eyes scanned the sky. The city of the Sun Warriors was hidden in a valley, protected by a vast jungle. The Sun Warriors were a cryptic people, somehow managing to evade the curious eyes of the Fire Nation for centuries.
"What's the rush for?" Lu-Ten asked and Tuwa looked over her shoulder at him.
She released his hand and Lu-Ten saw that she had led him to another woman's home. It was the abode of a widow, whose name evaded him but Lu-Ten remembered that the woman made jewelry from precious stones and other odd materials, tempered by her firebending. Tuwa smiled. "I asked her for a favor," she explained. Sun People did not buy things with currency for the most part, they had no need for it given that they mainly interacted with each other within the confines of their community. Instead, they gave others what they had in exchange for what they wanted. "Go ahead. She knows you are coming.”
Lu-Ten stepped inside of the stone structure, finding it dim but not unpleasant. In the half-light that filtered in from the window he could see a table with a singular chair and a kitchen. A pot of water boiled over a fire. The water smelled of cloves and citrus, its vibrant scent wafting throughout the house. He cleared his throat loudly to announce his arrival.
"I am here," a feminine voice called from further inside the house and Lu-Ten followed it to its source, to a bedroom lit by firebending. In it sat the widow, on the floor with her legs crossed and her hands tangled in a ball of string. "You're the Fire Nation boy, yes?" She did not look up at him and her voice was quiet, but she did not seem terribly old. "Their prince."
"I'm more of a Sun Warrior than a Fire Nationer," Lu-Ten retorted and resisted rolling his eyes. He had been raised amongst the Sun People since he was three years old, they were the only nation that Lu-Ten had known and had cared to think about. Why all of a sudden was everyone so keen on reminding him of his origins? He had no recollection of the Fire Nation aside from a scattering of hazy memories. “I have been for twenty years, if you haven't noticed."
The widow withdrew her hands from the ball of string as if noticing him truly for the first time. "You cannot deny what you are," she said plainly and raised her head. Her eyes were the richest brown Lu-Ten had ever seen. Her olive skin was just beginning to age, fine wrinkles appearing near her eyes and mouth. Lu-Ten felt his face begin to contort in agitation. "But take no offense, child. Tuwa wanted me to craft something for your wedding and I could not refuse her.” She reached behind her and beckoned for Lu-Ten to open his hands.
In it, she laid a necklace and a bracelet. Lu-Ten examined them. The necklace had been bound by gold thread and was adorned with red and black stones and a smooth, odd stone in the center. The bracelet had been made the same way. Lu-Ten ran his finger over the odd blue stone. It felt oddly familiar but its geometric shape and holographic polish eluded his knowledge. "What is this?"
"Dragon scale," the widow told him. "A gift for you and your bride. They came from the foot of the Twin Caves."
There had been talk that the dragons were stirring from their dormancy in the Twin Caves and would emerge to go on a great hunt. They could be heard roaring sometimes, or occasional streams of brilliant colored flame would appear at the mouth of the cave. Their hunt was annually, often during the zenith of the summer when the heat would rouse them. Lu-Ten didn't find it surprising that their scales would find themselves on the ground below.
"Thank you," he breathed and dipped his head. "Yaretzi will be very grateful as well." He knew that to be true. Yaretzi was a girl amused by jewelry and trinkets, as interested in them as she was in stories and myths.
The widow's deep brown eyes twinkled. Sun People had eyes that were brown and black, or amber. Lu-Ten's eyes were pure gold, Fire Nation eyes. "You're a lucky boy," she said suddenly, "I remember when you were brought here, twenty years ago. Everyone does."
Lu-Ten sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I suppose I've become a foreigner overnight to some people. Do I look any different?"
She laughed. "No," she said and patted the stone floor, urging him to sit. "But you have come a long way from then. You were a scared little boy, only three years old. You had scratches and bruises, and you did not stop crying. Tuwa readily accepted you when other women were afraid to, fearful that the Fire Nation would rain down on our heads. Now," she continued, "you are a man, soon to be a married man, and a respected Sun Warrior. What else could you ask for? What more could you want?"
Lu-Ten thought about the experience in the temple, where he had come face to face with Tenochizun and Citlali, and the dragon. They had told him that he was to make the world for the gods again, that he was destined to be the Lord of the Fire Nation. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing."
The older woman waved her hand. "Wrong, child.” Lu-Ten found that he didn't understand. “You should aspire for more. Be hungry , boy.” He furrowed his brow as the widow dismissed him with an absent-minded wave.
He pushed himself to his feet and made his way through the dark house, back to the entrance. Tuwa was leaning against the side of the house and looked up as he appeared, grinning. "Do you like them?" She asked, gesturing to the necklace and bracelet.
Lu-Ten opened his fist and held up the jewelry. "I think Yaretzi will as well." He paused, "can I see her?"
Tuwa looked torn. "You aren't supposed to," she muttered half to herself, "and she hasn't been allowed to see you since preparations began in earnest..” Lu-Ten knew as well as Tuwa that Yaretzi was a taut bundle of nerves by now, prone to tantrum when she was anxious. His guardian sighed in resignation. “Just not for too long, alright?"
He followed her back to her own home. The stone house had windows cut and was one of the larger homes on this side of the village-city, closest to the jungle. Lu-Ten remembered days from his childhood when he thought the house was too small for all of them. Tuwa’s brood consisted of Lallo, Moema, Yaretzi and the younger three. There had been another boy between Moema and Yaretzi who would’ve had nineteen summers had he not passed away as a child.
Tuwa's youngest was playing in the dirt with her twelve year old son and seven year old daughter, who paused when Lu-Ten approached. The boy wrinkled his nose in accusation, "we can't go inside because you and Yaretzi are getting married ," he grumbled, "and all the girls smell like flowers!”
"I like flowers," the seven year old girl chimed in and her brother rolled his eyes. "Will Yaretzi still live with us after you're...married?"
Lu-Ten smiled lightly, "No," he replied, "we'll live together." There wouldn't be much difference, he thought. Though Lu-Ten had his own modest home, he spent much of his time at Tuwa's. She was a much better cook and he was so accustomed to the bustle of his childhood home that he found the house unbearably lonely. “There'll be more space."
Tuwa's twelve year old boy sighed in relief. "Mother will let me have Yaretzi's room," he said, as though this had already been determined. "I'll be the oldest in the house." He was one of the middle children, with three older siblings and two younger.
"That means you'll have to take on the responsibilities of being the oldest. It’s not all fun and games," Lu-Ten patted the boy's bald head and entered the house. He was struck with an odd sense of nostalgia. Tuwa's house was sparsely decorated, due to having several rambunctious children living in it, but placed high on the walls were various artifacts that she had been collecting since she herself was a child. He spotted a worn down arrowhead, and a feathered bracelet, remnants of Tuwa's adventures as a youth. His favorite decoration, though, was the painting.
On the left wall of the house's main room was a large painting detailing the steps of a firebending kata. It looked more like a dance to Lu-Ten, each figure moving fluidly into the next, as if it was endless.
He heard talking coming from one of the sleeping rooms on the right side of the house. Lu-Ten drifted towards the source of the noise and stopped before the entrance of the room. He peeked inside.
Tuwa's eldest girl, Yaretzi's older sister, and several other women of the community were standing around Yaretzi, their hands working on different things at once. One was brushing Yaretzi's hair and another was coloring in the tattoos on her hands. Still another was fixing the hem on her dress.
Lu-Ten knocked on the wall to make his presence known.
All of the women turned towards him in unison and shrieked. Yaretzi's sister clapped her hand over his eyes and spun him around, shoving him hard out of the doorway. "You can't see her!"
"You can't see me!" Yaretzi shouted from inside the room.
Moema, Yaretzi's sister, shoved him once more for good measure (and probably out of childish spite). "You know it's against the rules, Lu-Ten, don't give her a bad face." She glared at him, as she had often done when they were children. "You have to leave." Moema was a staunch traditionalist. Though she was a year younger than Lallo and Lu-Ten she had dominated the household in their childhood, commandeering the other children with an ironclad fist. There could only be one ruler in the house and she had wed early to dominate a household of her own. Lu-Ten pitied her husband who always looked like he had seen a ghost.
Lu-Ten blinked. "Tuwa said I could see her, but just for a few moments," he told her and Moema‘s eyelids twitched. "I already promised Lallo I wouldn't give her a bad face."
They reached a stalemate. Moema refused to budge and Lu-Ten refused to leave. He lifted his chin, taking full advantage of his impressive height. Defeated Moema snarled wordlessly. "You better not," she spat venomously and stepped aside. "Or I'll strangle you, as sure as the sun rises I'll strangle you."
Yaretzi sat in the room with her hands fidgeting in her lap, eyes downcast. Lu-Ten could see her biting her lip to withhold her smile though. He took a moment to take in her appearance, and Lu-Ten thought that he had never seen a woman become such a beautiful bride.
Her bronze skin seemed more supple and soft to the touch, and her dark hair was pulled into a high tail bound by a red ribbon. A gold ring had been placed on her upper arm and from her temples and downward were spiraling red tattoos in the shape of flowers and dragons. She seemed to be eternal, Citlali personified as every bride was meant to be.
"The world isn't going to end if you look at me for one minute, Yaretzi," Lu-Ten teased and her head snapped up. Her eyes, which were wide and brown, sparkled. "How are we supposed to stay married if you can't even look at me right now?"
Yaretzi grinned nervously. "What if something happens and then we can't get married because I looked at you?" She asked and Lu-Ten looked incredulously at her, exchanging glances with Moema. Her sister offered a bewildered shrug. Yaretzi had a way with odd theories that only she could understand.
“Tuwa would drag me to the spirit world and back before she let the wedding be called off,” he replied in reassurance. It was true enough. Tuwa was notoriously tight with her time and coin, she would trudge through high waters before giving herself a bad face.
His young bride took his hand and stepped closer to him, so close that he could see the quiet desperation in her eyes. "Do you still want to marry me?" She asked and her grip tightened.
Lu-Ten suppressed a sigh. "Yaretzi," he said slowly, "you don't have to ask this. I promised you. I promised Lallo, and this evening I'm going to promise the spirits." He looked down at her, her searching eyes boring into him.
"Do you lo-" she broke off and shook her head quickly, releasing his hand as if he had burned her. "I'm sorry," she mumbled and stepped away from him.
Lu-Ten flinched. He had no answer for her. He did not love Yaretzi in the way that she loved him, in the way that he hoped would come to him. He had found that he didn't have the same love for her and she had for him, the same precocious infatuation. He met her gaze and hoped she would understand, hoped that she would find some reassurance and that she would understand.
He left the room with Moema's piercing brown gaze on him. She had not heard their exchange, but Moema knew them both. She did not take slights lightly.
When he exited the house, the twelve year old boy was waiting for him. "You grown ups are weird," he said and opened his hands, letting a small red flame hover between them.
"I don't wanna grow up," his seven year old sister said and the boy groaned in exasperation. "Do we have to grow up, Lu-Ten? And get married?"
He shook his head, "You don't have to get married, but you do have to grow up." He knelt to her level. He didn't interact with the younger children very much, and he scarcely knew the baby. Lallo played the part of a diligent uncle well enough for the both of them. “But you have a long way to go." The little girl took his hand. She would grow up to look like Yaretzi, he could see that already. She had the same softness about her features that suggested she would be extraordinarily pretty. But perhaps she wouldn't be so peculiar. He opened his palms, revealing a golden flame. The three children were drawn to it. "Fire is life," he said, "it gives and it takes away."
The sun was sinking when Yaretzi’s mother came to fetch him from his own house. Lu-Ten was pacing restlessly as Tuwa materialized with the cloak made from the leopon draped over her arm. She was alone. Without speaking, as was her custom when stressed or agitated, she came forward and draped it across Lu-Ten's shoulders. She rotated his body to face her and adjusted the spotted tawny pelt, appraising him. "Very nice," she said after a moment's pause, dusting an imaginary speck away from his vest. “And the bracelet?”
Lu-Ten couldn't stop his chest from rising with pride. It was a fine robe, that much was obvious. A robe won by chance, and too valuable to neglect. He had chosen his finest vest for the wedding, a burgundy and brindle garment with spiral suns on the breast pockets. It revealed his well toned abdomen that seemed to impress his lady peers of the village-city. His pants were a similar color that tapered at his shins and he had purchased a new set of sandals to match. He pulled the bracelet out of his breast pocket, slipping it onto his wrist.
Tuwa smiled at him approvingly. "Are you ready?"
The people of the village-city were already gathering, some of them using their firebending as the sun began to set. There was the sound of drums beating, a rhythm that reminded Lu-Ten of a slow pounding heart that grew increasingly louder. "I'm ready," he answered and Tuwa kissed his cheeks.
She led him out of his home, which in a few hours time would no longer seem so empty, and to the center of the city where the ceremony would take place. Lallo seemed to appear from nowhere, coming to Lu-Ten's side with a chuckle and a heavy handed slap on the back.
As he drew nearer the crowd of people separated and Lu-Ten saw Tonatiuh standing at the head of them, face painted in the bold red markings of the chief. He wore the chief's headdress, making him seem even taller than he was, as if he was Agni in the flesh. Eyes drew to him like moths to flame.
Beside him stood Yaretzi, fidgeting ever so slightly. She wrung her hands, her eyes flickering back and forth but Lu-Ten thought she looked even prettier than she had earlier that day. The dress she wore was deep red and gold, shimmering in the sunset. Her eyelids and cheekbones were flecked with gold dust. Her sister and the other women had outdone themselves.
"Don't forget the words," Lallo whispered as Lu-Ten stepped away from them, pulling the matching necklace from the old woman out of the pocket in his vest. He stood before Yaretzi, feeling countless brown and amber gazes on his back.
Yaretzi's eyes did not leave his as he clasped the necklace around her throat, the dragon scale settling just below the divet of her collarbones. He allowed his fingers to ghost along her copper brown skin. Lu-Ten smiled encouragingly and she opened her hands, cradling a ball of fire between them. Lu-Ten took a half step back and raised his voice, "I, Lu-Ten of the Sun Warriors, take this woman as my wife- if she accepts me, and before the gods and spirits I promise to value and to keep her."
His bride froze, as if she did not quite believe that he was real, as if she thought that he would've left her on the day of their wedding. "I accept," she said finally, quietly, "and before the spirits and the gods, I will value and keep him."
"Before the watchful eyes of the Sun People and the gods and the spirits, this man and this woman will be joined in marriage," Tonatiuh announced and took Yaretzi's left hand and Lu-Ten's right. "They will be Tenochizun and Citlali in the flesh, joined until the great spirit-god Agni closes his eyes for eternity." He joined their hands.
The ball of fire Yaretzi had been holding was connected between them, sending a jolt through Lu-Ten's arm. He accepted the flame and they raised their arms together, letting the golden sparks balance between them. Tonatiuh took a red string and wound it around their wrists.
And then they were married.
The drums began to beat once more and Lu-Ten grasped Yaretzi's hand as people moved closer to them, calling their names until it became a crescendo that rose up to the heavens of the setting sun, their union finding its place amongst the stars. They congratulated them and Lu-Ten nodded to each of them, unable to contain his smile.
"You'll be spending the night in the temple for the consummation," Tonatiuh said to them and at Lu-Ten’s side Yaretzi stiffened. "Better go on before it gets too dark to see."
Beside him, Yaretzi was petrified. She had not considered that and Lu-Ten admitted that he hadn't either. He had engaged in trysts on occasion, but something told him that it was not the same.
He squeezed her hand and dipped his head so that his mouth was close to her ear. "Yaretzi," he said slowly, firmly, and for her ears alone, "you know we don't have to, don't you?" She blushed and he went on, "we don't have to. Not until you are ready.” Lu-Ten wouldn’t deny that the thought hadn’t awakened an innate, masculine, desire within him. Yaretzi was undeniably beautiful. Any other man would’ve leapt at the chance. With that said, Lu-Ten had never been a man to take what he wanted without consent, and even if he had been, Tuwa and Lallo would have him gutted and strung up to dry. She seemed taken aback and Lu-Ten remembered that she was seventeen, still idealistic and ignorant at the same time. He cursed Moema for making her believe she had to do something she didn't want to do.
Yaretzi smiled, a bittersweet smile that Lu-Ten didn't quite understand nor did it reach her eyes. She pulled him forward and led the way across the village, towards the temple. She used her bending to light the way and they did not speak. Lu-Ten understood that there was no need to.
She led him to the temple and stopped before they reached the first step. Twilight had given way to darkness by this point and the trees cast spindly shadows. The air was still warm from the summer day and the night was moonless. Yaretzi faced him. The glow from the fire cast shadows across her face, illuminating her brown eyes. "You first," she waved her hand and Lu-Ten complied, removing his shoes as he ascended the stone steps of the temple. The only sound was the shuffle of their feet across the carved stairs.
They entered the main chamber together and Lu-Ten moved to light the wickers on the statues. Citlali and the dragon bathed the chamber in a dim, warm glow, their fierce eyes set on Lu-Ten and his new wife.
Lu-Ten sat.
Just behind him, just out of sight, he heard the stone dragon roar. The sound reverberated through his skin, causing the hair on his neck and arms to rise. Lu-Ten clenched his teeth and looked towards Yaretzi, wondering if she could sense his discomfort. He wondered if she had heard the dragon, too.
"They won't leave you alone," she told him, her legs tucked under her and her hands twitching in her lap. That was her answer, he decided. She had heard it as well. "They aren't going to leave you alone."
"Who?" Lu-Ten asked, although he already knew the answer.
"The gods," Yaretzi answered and waved her hand. "You're important to them...well all of us are important to them, but they already told you what they want you to do. You can’t deny them much longer. This is their world, Lu-Ten, and we just live in it. You can't ignore the gods. You'll have to answer them."
"How?"
Yaretzi spread her fingers and turned her lips up in the beginnings of a thin smile. "I think you already know how," she said, and she seemed saddened, yet somehow coy at the same time. In the firelight her brown eyes shimmered until they were amber, the reflection of the flames and the statues of the gods dancing across her irises. Lu-Ten felt as though he was a fly in a wolf-spider’s web, paralyzed. Enchanted. "By doing what they want."
Chapter 13: Escape
Chapter Text
Katara
There was the sound of boots clanking against metal and Katara found herself startled from her state of semi-awareness, licking her lips. The door of her room (prison cell, she reminded herself) opened and she looked up from her spot on the floor beside the bed. She had refused to sleep in, refused to get comfortable out of fear that she would let her guard down. It had caused a sharpness in her shoulders and spine from sleeping on the floor that couldn’t be massaged away.
The sadness wouldn’t go away either. At some point in the last few days they had sailed past Whale Tail Island, a Tribal outpost, and were now in the vast open waters of the Southern Sea. She had overheard the sailors say that the helmsman had set a course circumnavigating the lower Earth Kingdoms and they would approach the Fire Nation archipelago within a month. Less if the gods favored them.
Katara prayed that the gods turned their back on the Fire Nation the way they had turned their back on her father.
Keys jangled and the door creaked open, throwing a stream of light into the space. The Fire Nation commander stood in the doorway, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. It had been a few days since he had made his presence known, having spent the time on the other ship where Yue was being held. She wondered how the Northern princess was fairing. Her stomach clenched at the thought of Yue receiving the same treatment she had.
"Ah," he greeted her with a chuckle, "the fighter." He stepped forward and she saw two unmasked younger sailors behind him, though they didn't follow. "You must be hungry. It's been what, three days, four days since your last meal?" He smirked. “Surely you’re tired of biting my men.”
Katara glared at him and wished she could spit at him, but spit was water and she hadn't had more than a cup of it in almost five days. They had refused her water and the opportunity to walk blindfolded down the halls after she had bitten one of the soldiers until he bled. He had grabbed for her when delivering her meal, his hands grasping in an attempt to take liberties. The salt of his blood had filled her mouth until she spat it in his face.
"I'll pass," she snarled and she saw that one of the soldiers had a tray of food in his hands, freshly prepared judging from the steam rising from it and the smell. Any other time, her mouth would have watered.
Zhao snapped his fingers and one of the younger men entered the room, setting the tray of food before her. Zhao knelt and met her gaze as he picked up the chopsticks and gathered a bit of rice from one of the bowls. He raised the food to his mouth and took a prolonged bite, chewing slowly as though he wanted to savor every sensation and flavor. He grinned. "My orders were to keep you alive," he said, "they didn't specify to what extent."
He'd been torturing her for almost five days. It was slow, agonizing torture. None of them had laid a hand on her, but they restricted her to a single cup of water a day. She was a waterbender, giving her anymore would be like giving her a weapon. Meals were few and far between even when she refused to eat. She was hungry, and it seemed as though the hole in her chest was growing larger, but she was the South and she would endure.
The south did not ever forget.
"Of course," he went on, "you can eat. I won't hold anything against you, go ahead and take a bite." He laughed and Katara narrowed her eyes. "We're still a few weeks away from the Fire Nation, you can't resist forever."
“I'll eat on my own accord," she snapped and Zhao threw back his head in laughter, as if what she had said was highly amusing. Katara bared her teeth and lunged at him, fingers outstretched as if to grab for his eyes.
The bigger man caught both of her hands in one of his, lifting her off of her feet. She yowled wordlessly in exasperation, glaring at him and she wished that she could freeze him with waterbending. She would freeze them all. “That insufferable barbaric pride knows no bounds. Your unwavering commitment to make your life harder than it has to be is almost admirable. Very rarely do you see a child with so much spirit.” She dangled in the air, kicking feebly. His yellow eyes pierced through her. “If it were not for my orders directly from the Phoenix King, I would enjoy breaking you. They all cry eventually.” He flung her down carelessly and Katara gathered herself. "Your white-haired sister doesn't fight. She's a good girl. Quiet. She’s the one they leave in peace. I've even allowed her to keep her pet. But you...you!" His nostrils flared, "You're quite the challenge."
The firebender stormed from the room and his underlings followed, closing the door quietly behind them. After a moment's pause, one of the younger sailors returned and grabbed the tray of food, looking apologetically at Katara from under his visor. "Sorry," he said and winced, "it's my order."
They left her in silence as quickly as they had come, though she was more awake than she had been before. Katara drew her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.
The ocean swayed.
Yue was getting fed. Yue was being treated like an actual human. Yue was taken care of. Yue was a northerner and northerners bent.
Katara liked Yue, but Yue hadn't seen her own father be murdered before her very eyes; she hadn't seen her home set on fire.
The ocean swayed and Katara was hungry.
There was a full moon tonight, she could tell by the way the ocean's energy thrummed in her veins, giving her nourishment when food was not available. The moon proved to her that she was alive, that this was no dream even though she desperately wished it to be so. She stretched out on her back and looked up at the ceiling.
Katara reached for the small map that Zhao had tossed her to keep her entertained. There was some ulterior motive behind it, but she couldn't discern what it might be. She pulled it closer and studied it, finding that it was of the sea routes to the Fire Nation archipelago. Tracing it with her fingernail, Katara saw the south pole and the Southern Sea. Whale Tail Island had been the last safe haven, Katara thought, but they were far beyond that. By now, the ship was sailing out of the Southern Sea and towards the southwestern Earth Kingdoms. There were eight Kingdoms of earthbenders in total, some of them vast and sprawling that Katara had only ever heard of in passing. The others she was more familiar with due to their proximity and their frequent trade.
Home was within reach, but just barely. A few more days and it would be lost to her forever.
Home was before, Katara thought, it was the past and the south, and it was Dad and Sokka and Gran-Gran and Bato, and it was the lingering presence of her mother and her childhood, and it all suddenly seemed so far away.
Her father had promised her that they would always be Polar Bear Dogs, they would always be a pack that would roam free, untamed. Katara hadn't been deaf to the criticism her father faced. Her nurses had told her that she was spoiled and wild, even though she could swing a club just as well as she could mend a coat.
Katara remembered a time when she was still small, perhaps two years after her mother died, and she had suffered from bad dreams. Her father had taken her into his arms, Katara remembered that they had felt like the safest place in the world, and he told her that she would always be strong and loved. And then he leaned close to her ear and whispered, "It is so." It was the ancestral phrase of confirmation, said after every invocation and ritual.
Katara wondered what her father would do, if he were in her position. He would fight, she concluded, with tooth and nail and even if he lost, he wouldn't give in. The same way he had when he was murdered. But her father had known how to choose his battles and play his enemy’s game.
She crawled over to the door and knocked on it, pressing her head against the frame. "Guards..." she began and licked her lips, "I'm hungry."
After an infinite pause, there was a shuffling on the other side. "What did you say?" The voice on the other side said and Katara heard the slightest gloating tone. It was one of her least favorite of the soldiers. Not like she liked any of them but some were more tolerable than others. The older man directly under Zhao who had swore on his honor was a step above the rest. "Say it louder."
"I'm hungry," Katara growled and tightened her fists, glaring at the door and wishing that the firebenders on the other side could feel it. "I'm thirsty, okay!" She shouted and banged on the door. She could hear snickering on the other side.
There was another long silence and then the knob on the door turned. "There's just one more thing," the voice said and Katara recognized the sailor that had initially grabbed her on that first day. "You have to admit defeat." One of the younger ones was at his side.
Katara ground her teeth. It had been the one condition, to admit that the south had fallen and she had refused to do so. The south had not fallen, the Southern Water Tribe did not forget and it did not succumb. She watched as the sailor opened the door all the way, holding a fresh bowl of stew. The smell of it was lovely, so enticing that it almost made Katara sick to her stomach. He passed it to the younger one and shooed him inside.
The young soldier stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her keenly. He entered the room and sat on the floor in front of her, legs crossed underneath him. "You'd rather starve yourself to death than admit defeat?"
Katara eyed the bowl of stew in his hands. "It's what we southerners do," she glowered and swallowed. "You're going to make me say it?"
The sailor raised his eyebrow in a way that reminded Katara of Sokka, pulling painfully on her heart. "No," he said and passed her the bowl, "I won't make you do that." He watched her as she tentatively raised the bowl to her lips, disregarding any use of a spoon. "You didn't have to wait five days, you're starving."
The southerner paused, suddenly feeling very embarrassed. The sailor pushed his visor up, showing his whole face. He was pale with black hair that was plastered to his forehead from the helm, and had brown eyes. Katara had never seen a firebender in person before the...event, but she figured that his looks were the standard ones. Brown and yellow seemed the most common amongst them. "You don't look like your sister," he said, "she has white hair. And you don't act like her, either."
"She's not my sister," Katara replied harshly, "She's the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Congratulations. You've kidnapped the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe."
The young soldier's eyes widened at the implication. It would be a justifiable cause for war, Katara thought, and the North had more Earth Kingdom allies. To murder one leader was one thing, to unintentionally steal away and harm another king’s daughter was another matter. The North would swoop upon the Phoenix King and rescue them and Katara would go home and find Sokka.
Inwardly Katara scoffed at her misguided optimism. The Northerners would do no such thing. They were kneelers. She would find a way regardless.
Everything would be okay.
"This changes everything," the young soldier whispered and looked at Katara almost reverently. "I've never been this close to royalty before...I mean you're just Water Tribe royalty but still." He shrugged. “I knew you are both princesses but-“
Katara set the bowl down. "I need water," she interrupted and the soldier frowned. "Please! And I need fresh air, I'm going to die in here. Let me up on the deck." She looked pleadingly at him, hoping that he would take mercy on her just once. "Please!"
The sailor bit his bottom lip and turned his head. "Commander Zhao would never allow that," he looked down at his hands, "but he's going to be on the other ship tonight." He raised his gaze, meeting hers. "You have to promise me."
"I promise," she said and extended her hand. The soldier took it and they shook hands. With her other hand behind her back she crossed her fingers. Katara figured that Sokka, if he was even still alive, would be proud of her.
The moon was up.
Katara laced her fingers together, anticipating the feel of the moonlight upon her skin and ocean spray. She had promised, and the sailor had promised. She hoped that the spirits would decide to be kind.
"Let it be so," she murmured.
The tell-tale sound of the door unlocking caused Katara to straighten, forcing the broad grin on her face to fade. Air, she thought, fresh air and moonlight and the sea.
"They're teasing me," the young soldier said as he stepped inside, "they think I have a crush on you now," he looked pointedly at Katara, "I'm not attracted to children."
Katara hauled herself to her feet. "You're a kid, too," she jested and the sailor seemed deeply amused, a rare smile stretching across his face. "Aren't you?"
He laughed and took her arms, pulling them behind her back. He was gentle, taking care not to touch her any more than he had to. "A precautionary measure," he said apologetically as he bound her hands, "and I'm a grown man if you haven't noticed." He pushed her gently through the door and along the passageway. "How old do you think I am?"
She looked over her shoulder at him, studying his features. "Seventeen," she decided, "Some people consider themselves grown at that age." Sokka had called himself a man and he was only fifteen, but Katara figured that he didn't count.
The sailor made a sound of concession. "Close enough, but not quite." He offered no further comment, marching her up a set of metal stairs. She saw a door in front of him, and the hum of the moon became stronger underneath her skin.
They approached the top step and the soldier cleared his throat. "You promised me," he reminded her and opened the metal door in front of him.
The deck of the ship was cast in the silver light of the moon, its floor and rails turned white. As Katara stepped onto the deck, she felt her knees wobble. The ocean air sprayed against her face, cool and damp, and breathtaking. The ocean stretched for as far she could see, an endless stretch of darkness that reflected the moon and stars.
Katara inhaled as the sailor released her hands. It had been too long since she had breathed fresh air, she thought. Since she had seen water.
Water.
The sea stretched out beyond, vast and untamed. The waves crashed and rolled together, tossing whatever came into contact with them. Katara had always thought that the ocean had a mind of its own; the ocean spirit, La, was capricious, having no loyalty to any seafarer.
"The Fire Nation capital, that's where you'll be going, has access to water on all sides. You won't be isolated from your element.” The sailor’s voice came from behind, but Katara found that she wasn't interested in his words. She moved closer to the edge and the sailor caught her arm. "I have to watch you."
Katara closed her eyes and her hands tingled. She allowed her tense muscles to relax and raised her hands as much as she could with them bound, forgetting the presence of the sailor behind her. She made a circle with her wrist.
A tendril of water crept towards the railing on the ship, rising and spilling over the railing.
There would be no other chance.
Katara told herself she would not think, she would not feel. There would only be the water, only the water, nothing but the water...
She swept her hands up and snapped her wrists. The water turned to ice, slicing through the rope. She wrenched her hands free and spun in a circle, calling the ocean to her. La, be with me. The water came to her command, sweeping underneath the sailor's feet and throwing his balance. Katara darted away from him as he cried out. Do not stop, you can't stop, it's now or never.
Katara dipped at the knees and pushed her arms up. The ocean followed suit once more, rising in a massive wave that crashed down and propelled the ship. She could hear more shouting behind her as the other firebenders realized what was happening.
If she stopped, they would surely kill her. There would be no compromise.
“Stop!" The young soldier shouted and scrambled towards her, weighed down by his metal armor and soaked clothes. "You'll kill us all! Stop!"
Katara thought about Yue. She thought about Sokka and her father. And she thought about her home.
The ocean water followed her hands as she swirled them above her head. She brought the water down upon the deck of the ship and faintly registered screams as two firebenders were swept overboard. The sea heaved and the ship rocked unsteadily.
The waves rose high above the ship and came down upon the deck. Katara squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the screams of panic around her and feeling the water crash against her clothes and her hair and her skin.
The water. Nothing but the water. Only the water.
A wave grabbed onto her, pulling her within. She found herself going under, kicking desperately against the current. Her malnourished body worked as hard at it could. Katara was suddenly plagued with the uncanny perception of falling up , a scream ripping through her chest. She thrust her hand up towards the moon in the sky, clenching her fist around the silver light. A second wave tossed her asunder. Katara brought her arms close to her chest and then she went under.
———
"This one's got winter in 'er bones. Or rather she did, if she's dead."
"She's not dead, you idiot, look she's breathing."
"Don't call me an idiot."
The voices came from above her, and seemed to be ear-splittingly loud. Katara winced, though she found that she did not have the strength to open her eyes. Her mouth was dry and every part of her body seemed to ache. She was laying on her back, on a hard surface, and a cool breeze was swirling around above her head.
"She's waking up," the softer voice said excitedly and Katara felt a cool rag press against her forehead. "Give her some water, Tan."
"She just almost drowned, I doubt she'd want water," the voice belonging to Tan snapped. Nevertheless, Katara heard the sound of water being poured into a cup and then she felt the rim of said cup being pressed to her lips.
Katara sputtered and coughed.
The other voice, soft yet androgynous, let out an exasperated sigh. "You're going to kill her!” The voice moved to Katara's other side and warm, soft hands slid underneath her shoulders, holding her upright.
Katara opened her eyes.
Before her was a large man, with broad shoulders and green eyes that reminded Katara of the few living plants she had seen in the south. Supporting her was a thin woman with gray eyes, dressed in bright orange and green robes. She had delicate features reminiscent of a bird, suggesting she had Air Nomad ancestry. Although they were notoriously reclusive, it wasn’t unheard of for the Nomads to mingle with the other nations, leaving behind gray eyed children once they migrated on.
The southern princess flailed her arms, struggling to find her voice. At last, she managed to speak. "What happened? Where am I?"
The woman and the green-eyed man exchanged glances. The woman guided the cup of water to Katara's lips and held it steady as she took a greedy sip. She immediately began to gag, leaning over to vomit on the floor. It streamed from her nose and tears ran hot down her cheeks. Her chest was on fire. The couple stared at her.
"There was an earthquake followed by a small tsunami that almost wrecked the bay. I can only presume that your...your ship capsized and you washed up in the bay," the woman pointed beyond, gesturing to what Katara could only assume was the bay she mentioned. "We found you washed up.”
"And everybody else who washed up, but they weren’t so lucky," Tan said and the gray eyed woman narrowed her eyes. Tan shrugged unapologetically. "What were you, a Water Tribe girl, doing on a Fire Nation ship?"
"I...I'm..." Katara bit her lip and looked at her rescuers. The time between the ocean taking her under and waking up was lost to her. Her head throbbed. "I'm the princess of the Southern Water Tribe and those firebenders killed my father. They were taking me to the Fire Nation as a prisoner. I…I killed them." Her hands shook, "I couldn't let them take me, I have to get home!"
Tan raised a dark brow. "You're a long way from home, little princess," he said after a long pause. "You're in Chikyu Bay, in Banka-Kadi," at her confusion he went on, "You're in a southern Earth Kingdom."
Katara gasped. The name was vaguely familiar. It was further west and its climate was swampy and temperate. “How do I get home?" She asked and moved to slide from the table on which she had been placed. "I have to get back home."
The woman's face wrinkled. "You have no concern for the lives of those who died beside you," she said sharply before catching herself. “If what you say is true, then I can understand. Even with that said you can't go, child, you aren't well."
The princess shook her head. "I have to," she pleaded, "I have to. I can't stay here."
Tan scratched the back of his neck and cleared his throat. "If you say that those firebenders killed your father, then you won't be safe here anyway. Another crew will come looking for the remains and naturally they’ll stop here. If the south pole is anything like the royals in Banka-Kadi, then some new king has already taken your father's place."
Katara frowned. "That's not true," she argued, "my dad was the South. My family is the South and I have to get back." She stood on unsteady legs, clenching her fists. "And I'll find a way back on my own," she proclaimed, "I have to." Despite herself she began to cry. The woman rushed forward to embrace her and Katara sobbed uncontrollably into her chest, the weight of the last weeks crashing upon her. She cried for a long time, lulled into silence by the maternal rocking of the female stranger whose touch was as comforting as the snow in which she had been born.
Chapter 14: Across the Wall
Chapter Text
Hahn
A horn sounded and Hahn rolled over in his bed, pulling his pillow over his head in hopes that he could recapture his dream of being surrounded by beautiful, scantily clad women.
Just as the image was about to reappear, a hard hand shoved him from his cot, ripping his blanket away as he hit the ground with a jolt. "Get up, princesses!" The chief's nephew shouted. "The Ice Wall doesn't wait for you to be well rested!"
Hahn opened his eyes, painfully met with the bright light reflecting from the barrack walls. The other men (criminals from all over the north pole, Hahn remembered with disdain) were silently doing the same, standing and pulling on their boots. "Technically," Hahn raised his finger, "the Ice Wall won't ever melt, so it has all the time in the world."
The chief's nephew, the head commander of the Ice Wall, leaned down to Hahn's level. "Don't get smart, Three," he said. He had taken to calling Hahn "Three" as his ranking as the third son in his family and it hadn’t taken much time for Hann to realize that the chief's nephew hated him.
As in truly hated him.
The events at the top of the Wall might have been called introductory intimidation had it not been for the dark looks of disgust that the older man threw in his direction every time they crossed paths. Hahn wasn’t sure what he done to displease the man when he had just arrived, or maybe the old bastard considered him an acceptable target. He wouldn’t dare try to scare one of the other men when half of them were murderers. Hahn stood and tugged on his boots. The chief's nephew had left him and was making his way along the line of beds, urging stragglers to speed up.
All things considered, his time so far at the Ice Wall hadn't been terrible aside from the obvious. It was freezing and on the first day, he had gotten into a scuffle with a chubby brat that surprisingly had a mean left hook, but he had learned how to make a knot and operate the rig that sent them up to the top of the wall. The extreme cold had forced his lungs to grow strong and learning to move quickly even when bundled under four layers had made him agile.
He was surrounded by criminals, but Hahn felt like it would give him more respect when he returned home. Hasook and Nilu couldn't say they lived with criminals.
“Three," called an older boy across from him as he laced up his own shoes, "what are you up here for anyway?" He asked and Hahn took note of the scar that rose from his chest and ended at his neck. It was an ugly poorly healed mark that suggested whoever had inflicted it had done so out of blind rage. "Stealing?" He chuckled, "or did you get in a fight with ya big brothers?"
Hahn scowled. "Neither," he growled and cracked his knuckles, "If I had stayed, I would've killed a man." The lie grew as he continued to speak. “Last time I fought a man, I messed him up so bad he spent a month in the healing huts. A dozen little waterbending girls had to put him back together."
The older boy threw back his head and held his stomach as he bellowed in laughter, reaching over to punch Hahn in the arm. "If you never been anything else, you're a liar, Three. You might’ve all the training to be a warrior, but you're no more important than us in here," his smile vanished, "the Ice Wall doesn't play by the rules. And half of these bastards don’t either.”
The far North had no rules, Hahn thought as the boys and young men filed out of the barrack. He knew that one of the commanders of the Wall was waiting for them, already prepared to give them their daily assignment after making them run circuits around the yards. Those like Hahn had yet to find a niche that suited them and thus he rotated assignments daily. He was still learning, and he was no waterbender so maintenance was fairly out of the question.
The commander with their assignments was a man prematurely aged, with graying hair and a youthful face, and Hahn thought he had old, sad eyes. Hahn wasn't sure how old the man really was, but he knew that he was called Piku and that he had seen spirits before.
Hahn joined the line waiting for their assignment. Operating the rigs was easy, and working in the stables was filthy, dirty work. Hahn had learned that his opinions on work were not to be shared, if the chief's nephew was to judge.
Piku looked up with his old, sad eyes from his parchment. He stared at Hahn and then glanced back at the paper. "You," he said, "You'll be going across the Ice Wall."
“What?!" The older boy exclaimed and flailed his hands, "what do you mean he's going across the wall?" He glared at Hahn, as if he figured that Hahn had some involvement. “Why does he get to go? He just got here!”
Piku shrugged lightly, as if he could not muster enough energy to move deliberately. "The Chief Commander wants him to go across the wall, and so he'll go. The reasoning behind it is none of my business or yours. Keep your opinions to yourself. Or you’ll be cleaning up buffalo-yak stables." He tucked his parchment into a pocket in his coat, every move slow and small and deliberate. Hahn wondered what crime he could have ever committed to end up at the Ice Wall.
The older boy turned to Hahn. "The Chief Commander always leads a group to survey what's going on beyond the Ice Wall, but most of them have been here for years before they even get to go across." He narrowed his eyes, "your precious mother and daddy must've paid for your adventure here."
Hahn couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Or maybe the Chief Commander just sees my potential," he smirked, "I certainly have the training and the physique for it."
“The Land of the Ice That Never Melts doesn't care about training, and the foul-things don't either," Piku said, his soft voice suddenly rising with what sounded like anger to Hahn, "the spirits are as cruel as they are kind." His eyes glittered and Hahn saw the small man begin to tremor, "they are amused by us humans. Especially the ones like you."
He looked hard at Hahn and Hahn looked hard at him. Piku slipped easily from the door and disappeared down the main corridor of the barracks. Hahn turned to the older boy, his glare still locked onto him. Hahn shrugged his shoulders and left the barrack. If the kid wanted to fight then he would oblige him.
The air outside was crisp, and carried the smells of the mess hall nearby. There were men and boys already gathered with their ceramic morning bowls, and a small group of waterbenders were slinging a sphere of water back and forth with childish abandon.
It was hard to believe they were criminals.
The Chief Commander, the chief's nephew, might have been a criminal as well, but Hahn figured that a member of the royal family wouldn't have been sent to the Ice Wall for such a long time. He may not have been a part of the core family but he still had royal blood. It would shame the Koi fish to let one of their own suffer.
Hahn took his place in the line outside of the mess hall, accepting the bowl that a nameless kitchen boy gave him. Two youths were shoving each other playfully in front of him and Hahn found that they reminded him of his brothers, even though Hasook and Nilu had always been determined that he would always lose.
Hahn wondered if his brothers had been involved in him being sent to the Ice Wall, if Hasook and Nilu had conspired with his mother and father.
“I'm going across the wall, too," a cheerful voice said, breaking Hahn away from his thoughts. Behind him was a short boy perhaps of an age with him, though he had a soft face with long lashes and girlishly long hair pulled into a warrior's wolf tail. His skin was red ocher and he had round eyes that were a stony blue. "With the Chief Commander." The boy grinned when Hahn turned to face him fully, exposing white teeth with a small gap in the space between his two front teeth. "You're one of the new ones, ain't you?"
He shrugged.
"You are," the boy nodded to himself, "it's easy to tell, you got the look. The big eyes, nervous air about ya." He lifted his shoulders and waggled his fingers, "Well sometimes, people come here and they look dead inside, like they ain't got nothing to live for or to lose, and they might as well die up here on the ice. Nothing matters anymore, not to them. Those are the ones you stay away from. You don't look like that, though."
"How comforting," Hahn deadpanned.
The boy clinked his bowl with Hahn's. "I'm Squid," he introduced himself and when Hahn pulled a face he went on, "People call me Squid, I mean." He had an easy smile, natural and smooth as if it appeared often. "I've been here for three years, can you believe that?"
“You probably kicked a baby polar dog didn't you," Hahn snorted as he moved forward in the line. "Or you probably just stole one."
Squid frowned, something that was not becoming of him. "No," he replied casually, "I killed somebody. Sliced him open from throat to root." He giggled, "it was my father."
"Spirits," Hahn muttered under his breath. He was surrounded by madmen. Was he the only one who didn’t have midnight sun madness? "Everybody here is crazy."
As if to prove his point, someone behind him shoved Squid, the boy. Squid spun on his heel quickly, pressing his bowl into Hahn's unprepared hands before drawing back his fist, slamming it into the face of the boy who had shoved him. It was a good, clean, strike that left the poor victim dazed and stumbling. Hahn stepped back quickly, his eyes widening as the boy with the cheery disposition and quick hands cleared his throat and turned back to him. "Sorry about that," Squid said meekly, flicking his wrist. Over his head, Hahn could see the unfortunate boy holding his nose. "Reflexes get sharp up here. The Land of the Ice That Never Melts waits for no one." He must've found that humorous, letting out another one of his tinkling cackles and took his bowl from Hahn.
“You're insane," Hahn said and figured that if the boy got offended, he could probably take him on.
Squid laughed so loudly and easily that Hahn thought he had been born with a gift for it. "Aye," Squid shrugged, "sometimes you have to be."
Hahn wasn't sure how, but he ended up sitting beside Squid when they were served their morning bowl. Squid, Hahn wasn't sure where the nickname came from, was talkative and spontaneous with a wicked tongue prone to laughter and jest. Not at all how Hahn expected someone who killed their father to look and act.
"You know," Squid began as he scooped up the last remains of his breakfast, "everybody here has nicknames here. I'm Squid and you're Three," he pointed to a boy sitting away from them, "and that's Sobber, because he cried like a baby when he got here, even though he used to run around with bad crowds back home." He rolled his eyes,"He's not so big and bad anymore."
"And why are you Squid?" Hahn asked.
“I don’t know, somebody started callin’ me that and it stuck.” Hahn traced his stare to the sight of the Chief Commander approaching them, redressed in a heavy parka and trekking boots. He was flanked by a duo of pure black arctic hounds whose blue tinged tongues lolled in excitement. An entourage of similarly dressed men followed.
“You're the last of the group," the chief's nephew said sharply and the individual standing next to him threw a parka and pair of hiking boots in both of their directions, "hurry up."
Hahn grimaced as he shrugged into the parka. The chief's nephew watched him sharply and Hahn remembered the day of his arrival, when the Chief Commander had taken him up to the top of the wall and had threatened to kill him.
The chief's nephew hated him.
Squid scrambled over to the group and Hahn followed much more slowly, feeling the Chief Commander's hard stare. "This will be your first venture beyond the top of the wall," he said brusquely as they joined the group, "and while we aren't going far, I cannot prepare you for what you might see. You might see spirits, you might see barbarians, or you might see nothing at all. You aren't in the city anymore."
The Chief Commander led them away from the mess hall, walking underneath the looming shadow of the Ice Wall. As they moved closer to the ice structure, Hahn could hear the consistent sounds of the rig and platforms, and of men moving along the wall. Squid walked close to Hahn, though he noticed that the boy had his chin up and chest out.
Confident.
“You know," Squid said and bounced on his toes as he walked, "I've been trying to read you," he looked up at Hahn, studying his features from underneath his feathery lashes, "I think I know why the Chief Commander hates your guts."
Hahn rolled his eyes as the group stopped before one of the larger platforms mounted to the great wall. "Tell me," he cajoled, "I'm dying to know."
Squid's eyes twinkled with amusement, stepping onto the platform. "He hates you because you are him, he sees himself in you,” he suppositioned and outstretched his hands at the profound realization, "You're a third son and he was the one always behind the chief, his uncle. You're him."
Beneath their feet, the platform began to crank and rise. "That...was the stupidest thing I have ever heard," Hahn retorted and caught the hard glance of the chief at the front of the platform. "He chose to stay on this wall of ice, I'm going to return home."
"Right," Squid said absently, "I forgot some people had that option." He watched as a waterbender stepped forward and bent at the knees, pushing apart a block in the Ice Wall and revealing a small hollow corridor cut straight into the ice. It was high enough for a man of average height to pass through without ducking their head, and wide enough only for one man to pass at a time.
The Chief Commander moved aside to allow the waterbender to step in front, pulling tendrils of water from the thick ice around them as they walked through it. Hahn watched him, and began to see the resemblance between him and the chief of the Northern Water Tribe. They had the same eyes, though Hahn didn't remember seeing such a sharp glare in the chief's. The chief's nephew reached for a club tied to his hip, grasped it, and moved forward.
The waterbender made a quick succession of hand and wrist movements, using the water accumulated from the walls to freeze it and form a crude set of stairs leading to the ground on the other side of the Ice Wall.
A cold, sharp wind blew by the opening of the hollow corridor, stirring Hahn's hair and causing his eyes to sting. Beyond him, he could see trees weighed down by years worth of falling snow.
It was quiet and ethereal, and Hahn felt as though they were intruding.
This was the Land of the Ice That Never Melts.
The Chief Commander stepped gingerly onto the first ice step and descended, moving swiftly yet deliberately, as if on edge. The men closest to him followed suit, their eyes darting back and forth.
"There's no danger," Hahn said and Squid turned to glance at him, suddenly stone faced. "There's nothing out here."
"Yet," Squid bleated and followed the rest of the group. He was the smallest, though Hahn figured Squid was perhaps a year or two older than him after getting a good look at him and sharing childhood experiences. The corners of his mouth turned down, "Don't underestimate the north."
Hahn groaned. "There are sentries that can see us. If anything went wrong, we'd have backup in no time." He pulled his parka closed, feeling the chill creep over his skin and settle in the fibers of his being. "What's even the point of this?"
They had begun to move towards the snow-laden trees, pressing along the hard, snow packed earth. The Chief Commander drifted amongst them, sometimes in the front or sometimes behind everyone else but never allowing anyone to fall behind. He walked silently, seemingly gliding across the earth. The black hounds flanked the group, pausing to taste the air every few paces before running back to the head of the line.
"The point is, we've come to retrieve something," growled the waterbender walking alongside Squid. He was a gruff looking man, and thin. "Something important."
The trees overhead were much taller than Hahn first realized, their heavy limbs bowing and linking together to form a pristine white canopy above their heads. The undergrowth, too, had been bathed in white, devoid of color and adorned in glittering ice crystals. Hahn caught sight of a ghostly white flower, its petals remaining upright despite the weight of the ice upon it. He wondered if Princess Yue, the chief's daughter, would have liked it; he knew girls liked pretty things.
Just to the left of him, Hahn heard someone giggle.
He gasped and the rest of the group turned quickly to face him, gazes sharp and curious. Hahn cleared his throat and lifted his chin, "I heard something," he said, "at least I think I did."
"What did it sound like?" The Chief Commander demanded and reached for his club, "did it sound like an animal or barbarians?"
Hahn shook his head, "It sounded like...like laughing," he admitted and he heard someone curse loudly. "I'm fairly certain it was laughter."
"It was probably just Squid," the gruff waterbender tossed out and the men laughed, except for the chief's nephew. "No one giggles as much as Squid."
The Chief Commander grunted and continued walking. The others fell into step, talking amongst themselves.
"Probably just the wind," Squid nudged Hahn in the side, "it could've stirred the leaves. Or maybe it was just your head." He smiled, "maybe you're insane."
"No" Hahn protested, "I know what I heard."
The laugh came again, the sound of a young girl, perhaps a child. It seemed to come from above this time, and Hahn looked up quickly, narrowing his eyes. The frozen leaves rattled and shimmered.
He saw what looked like a little girl leaping amongst the branches, looking down at him and laughing as she did so. Hahn followed her with his eyes, watching her as she gracefully sprung from limb to limb, her indigo gown fluttering behind her.
Squid tugged on Hahn's sleeve. "What are you looking at?" He asked and Hahn pointed towards the girl, who had stopped and crouched on a thick branch. Her eyes, which were too big for her round face, were an indescribable color. Not quite blue or gray, or white. She was watching him as he watched her, cocking her head to one side and then the other in curiosity. Squid followed his finger and bit his bottom lip. "I see her," he hissed through his teeth, "I see her."
It was then that Hahn noticed the girl was transparent. The leaves were visible through her, though her features were still defined. "What is she?"
The other men had stopped. The dogs began to bark uncontrollably, unable to be silenced by their handler. The Chief Commander had lifted his head to stare at the transparent girl, who had tilted her head to observe them more closely. "She's a spirit," the chief's nephew seemed to whisper in awe, “this land belongs to her."
The transparent girl opened her mouth, and screamed.
The noise was anguished and shrill, more like a wail of grief, ringing in Hahn's ears. It sounded like ice cracking and breaking. It caused Hahn to freeze where he stood. She looked down at them and Hahn saw her teeth were sharp and deadly, teeth that did not belong in a human mouth. She screeched, and then she vanished.
The sound of her cry followed after her, bouncing along the trees before fading into a deep silence.
Hahn looked at Squid, and then at the Chief Commander, who seemed unaffected by the spirit girl's scream. The Chief Commander looked at him. "What was that about?" Hahn asked, figuring that the older man had all the answers. "If that's what a spirit looks like, then what is a foul-thing?"
“Sometimes they are one in the same," The Chief Commander answered and knelt, deftly plucking a frozen flower up from the ground. He twirled it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb along the fragile petals. He took the frozen flower and tucked it safely into the pocket of his coat, looking up at the tree canopy. Then, in one fluid motion, the man leaped and grabbed a low hanging branch from the closest tree.
The gruff waterbender made a circular motion with his hands and the ice coating the branch peeled off, coming together in a thick sheet. He twitched his fingers and the sheet of ice folded onto itself. He set the ice on the sled pulled by another one of the group. "Is this enough?" He asked as he pulled down another block.
The Chief Commander nodded and then swiveled his gaze around the trees. He took the block of ice from the waterbender, holding it gingerly. "This is enough for now,” he stated, "this will be sent back to the capital when we return. You'll be in charge of its delivery," he said to the waterbender. The Chief Commander held the ice close to his chest and turned on his heel, heading back the way they had come.
"There are people in the capital city who want samples of the ice that never melts," a man walking close to Hahn explained, "I don't know why," he said, "maybe for jewelry."
Hahn looked at the block of ice, noticing that in its center, there was a tiny sliver of violet. "Maybe," he said absently and thought about the transparent girl. Hahn didn't consider himself to be stupid, but he figured there was something he didn't understand. "Maybe."
Beside him, Squid nodded, a smile just on the corner of his lips. "You can brag now, Three. The third son who saw spirits and defended the north alongside me, Squid the Great." He laughed and punched him affectionately in the side. Even then, Hahn could feel the strength behind him and bit back a grimace. "We're goin' to make history, us two, trust me. How many can say they saw a spirit on their first trip beyond the wall?”
“You’re nuts,” Hahn griped, daring to hit the boy back. Squid took off running, much to the confusion of the men around them and after a moment’s hesitation Hahn took off after him, allowing himself to feel the boyish thrill of the chase. They leapt over branches and snow banks, ignoring the scowl of the Chief Commander and for the first time Hahn felt like he belonged.
Chapter 15: Welcome to the Fire Nation
Chapter Text
Yue
Yue had first known something was wrong when the Fire Nation commander, Zhao, began to yell. She had heard him tossing things on the other side of the door, and she could hear her guards scrambling to placate him. Something had happened to the other ship, she had learned. The stories were a tangle of recollection and assumptions. What she knew for certain, however, was that Katara had somehow managed to get to the deck of the ship. After that was where the confusion began. Some said there was an earthquake that triggered a tsunami that propped their own vessel across the water, somehow managing to evade the devastating tidal waves. Others said that Katara had summoned the power of the full moon to cause the giant wave that drowned her and the entire crew.
One thing was for certain. The ship that Katara had been transported on had been destroyed.
No one was saved.
Yue, initially, had been unsure of what to feel. She knew without a doubt that Katara had been behind the event, and that the younger girl's pride had made her put her own life in danger in order to escape. This much she could believe. Katara had determined that she would die by her own terms. After witnessing the death of her father, being a prisoner of the Fire Nation was a fate worse than death. It left Yue in a precarious position. She was their only prisoner, now their last chance.
There were many things that could be worse, Yue thought as she stared at the cup of tea that had been set before her. She was a prisoner of war, a Fire Nation captive, but at least she wasn't dead. And she was a princess, a princess had dignity in all things. The guards that tended to her had treated her as such, allowing her walks around the deck and time to bathe in water heated by their hands. They had been cordial to her the whole time, put at ease by her submission in comparison to the savage rebellion that Katara had unleashed on the other crew. There was not a single member on the ship that she had not scratched or bitten.
Yue was of the North, of the Water Tribes. Through her, the Fire Nation could control both the Northern Water Tribe and what was left of the south. If Sokka was still alive then he would be the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. She prayed he would be wise enough to choose his battles.
At her feet, Tui lay curled up with her tail over her nose, though she was not asleep. The young white dog had become restless in the last few days as the air became warmer. Yue figured they were getting closer to the Fire Nation. The guards sounded more cheerful and even smiled at her, reaching down to pet Tui every once in a while.
The guards talked loosely around her, in a way that reminded Yue of when she was a little child and she would overhear the adults talking about things she didn't understand. They talked about how the commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk ahead to announce their return, and they talked about the Phoenix King.
Yue had heard many things about the Phoenix King.
The door to her room twisted and opened, and the clatter of armor preceded the guard entering. It was a woman, the only one in the crew, and she appeared to be only a few years older than Yue. They had struck up a quasi-camaraderie in the last weeks as the only women. The firebender’s eyes were different from the other firebenders. They were gray.
“We're almost in the archipelago," the gray-eyed firebender said and swept across the room, her dark brown braid flying behind her. She was always jovial and seemed to bounce more than she walked. She sat on Yue's bed, watching her. "We're near the Estival Peninsula...though I doubt you'd know what that is." She waved her hand dismissively.
Despite her royal lessons in geography, Yue had never heard of the Estival Peninsula, and the gray-eyed firebender offered no explanation. She sat and waited, knowing that the gray-eyed firebender preferred to dominate the few conversations they did have.
"I don't know if you'll like it in the Fire Nation, not that you would have a choice whether to like it or not because you're a..." she paused, as if searching for the right word. She waved her hand flippantly, deciding that it did not matter. "You'll look very odd in the capital city, very few people are as...swarthy as you people are. At least you'd stick out, I have five sisters back home and they all look like me!"
The princess decided to ignore the firebender's comment on her skin. It had made her uncomfortable in a way she could not quite describe, but the firebender's tone had no malice. She came from a place where most people shared very similar features. Aside from her hair, Yue had never felt out of place. "You have five sisters?" She repeated, and thought of her own little brother Kuruk, back in the north. Kuruk was plump and sweet, and safe back home.
She was a hostage.
"I do," the gray-eyed firebender said absently, "and I'm the oldest. I was the only firebender until the youngest one was born, she's six now." She sighed wistfully, "I miss them."
“I can imagine," Yue said, sharper than she had intended. The gray-eyed firebender looked taken aback, thrown off guard by the flare of Yue’s temper, and Yue dropped her gaze to the floor. She might never see the North again, she realized, and the Fire Nation would hold her captive to command the Water Tribe. The firebender would be returning to her own home as a victor, she would see her family in due time.
It wasn't fair. But Yue was a princess and she knew things weren't fair. Princesses took dignity in all things.
“ I imagine they'll keep you in the capital so you can't escape and they can watch you," the firebender went on, "you get to meet the royal family. The Phoenix King is very handsome and powerful, and his wife is beautiful. One of my little sisters is close friends with the Phoenix King's daughter." She produced a tiny red flame in the palm of her left hand, juggling it back and forth. "Our parents praise us based on what we do for the family. I'm in the Fire Nation Navy, so I get some praise, but my sister's friendship has given us a boost up the ladder of nobility."
Yue was familiar with that. She understood courtier antics well enough. She had friends back home, in the North, who tried to use her friendship as a means to get their family to the highest tier in the city. They were typically the ones that offered all praise and no criticism out of fear she would shun them.Her mother had always taught her to identify a false friend and how to keep a genuine one.
Katara had been her friend.
Sokka had been her friend.
The gray-eyed firebender studied the princess. "Were you this quiet back in the north?" She looked down at Tui, whose eyes had settled onto her. "I love animals."
As if to prove her point, she reached down to touch the polar dog, only to withdraw her hand when Tui bared her teeth. The young woman smiled nervously at Yue, "She's a bundle of joy, ain't she?"
Yue bit her bottom lip to keep from giggling.
From above, the ship's horn blew. The gray-eyed firebender pointed upward at the ceiling. “Welcome to the Estival Peninsula naval port!” Her exclamation was overflowing with glee. "Come on, I'll take you on the deck to see it!"
Yue raised a brow.
The firebender caught her look and Yue saw red begin to tinge her cheeks. "Well I know you won't capsize a ship," she said, "you can't even bend. And you'd be in Fire Nation territory." She reached down and caught Tui by the scruff of her neck, putting the white pup securely under her arm. "Collateral," she beamed and for the first time, Yue saw the simmering cruelty in her ash colored eyes, saw the tilt of her lips in the loose beginnings of a smile.
Do not forget, Yue told herself, you cannot forget.
The gray-eyed woman rose to her feet, still holding Tui gingerly against her as she opened the door. "Come on," she said and Yue followed her into the warm corridor. It was much larger and longer than Yue remembered, though she figured it only looked that way because she hadn't stepped foot outside of her cell in three days.
They climbed up to the deck in silence with Tui wriggling from the firebender's grasp. She landed gracefully onto the metal floor and padded to Yue's side, baring her teeth at the woman. The firebender surrendered and the polar dog relaxed.
"You're sweating," the gray-eyed firebender remarked and Yue put a hand to her brow. She had shed her outermost layers days ago, down to the lavender shift that had belonged to Katara's grandmother. "A little northern flower like you can't stand the heat?"
Yue lifted her chin and pushed a damp lock of hair out of the way. "I'm a Koi fish," she bit back as they stepped onto the deck, catching the smell of salt water and smoke, "Not a delicate flower."
The woman grinned cheekily, "Could've fooled me." She stepped aside and Yue saw that the ship had pulled into a port, surrounded by similar warships and cargo carriers. Some flew flags of the richer Earth Kingdoms that benefited most from the Fire Nation’s expansionist politics. It reminded her of her first view of the south pole, but instead of blue banners and ice, she saw red insignias and stagnant water. The skies were cloudless. Away from the port there was a city of pagodas that rose and fell, their black roofs jarring against the scenery. Instead of fish and smoke she smelled spices and saltwater.
Yue inhaled.
The ship's crew bustled around her, suddenly overflowing with life. They were almost home, she realized, they were within reach of their families and the land that was familiar to them. Yue was certain that had things been the other way around, she would've been just as excited.She leaned against the railing and observed as crates were carried to and from the belly of the ship and set upon the wooden dock. She could see the crew members of the other ships scuttling about, walking with a sway that suggested they had not been on solid ground in a long time.
Commander Zhao stood on the dock, having disembarked as soon as they had moored. He was surrounded by a group of the ship's engineers and the helmsman. He was dressed in full regalia save for his helmet, his sash and medals hanging from his shoulders. Yue could see that his jaw was set in a straight line as a small group of people moved towards him. She saw that they were ornately dressed, and that one seemed to be a gray haired bespectacled woman. He saluted her with a respect she had not seen him show to anyone else, bowing deeply and offering her the Fire Nation salute.
"That's the governor of Estival Peninsula," Yue's guard explained, "I think she's the first woman to hold the position in a hundred years." Yue could hear the smile in her voice, "There have been female Fire Lords, too, did you know that?"
Yue wasn't sure if there had ever been a female chief, at least not in the North. She doubted it had ever occurred in the South, either.
There was a boy carrying a standard behind the governor. It was of a shrewd fox-rat, its thick plume of a tail rising towards the top of the standard. "That's her family's sigil," the firebender continued, "like the Phoenix of the royal family and your Koi fish. The Polar Bear Dogs, too.”
“She comes from an important family, I imagine," Yue said in response. A lot could be told about a family's history through its sigil. The Polar Bear Dog had been an indicator that the founding family had been a powerful, united one. Her own family's Koi fish suggested grace and longevity. She imagined that the Fire Nation's royal family had excessive pride. "You're a noblewoman as well, what's yours?"
The firebender was watching the exchange on the dock and for a moment, Yue was unsure whether she had heard or not. Finally, the gray-eyed firebender shrugged sheepishly, "We aren't animals or anything cool like that. Our symbol came from a story of smoke and clouds," she laughed and then turned to Yue, "You ever wish you could go back in time? If I could, I would visit my ancestors and knock them upside the head for being so unimaginative.”
"All the time," Yue replied through gritted teeth.
They watched together as the sailors restocked the ship for the final leg of their voyage. Yue wondered if Katara would've felt as helpless, but then she decided that Katara had been too strong for that. She had escaped, or drowned trying to, and avoided the fate waiting for them in the Fire Nation. Yue wished she had that much courage. She wished she was strong enough to choose death over defeat. Perhaps, she thought, if she had been born as a Polar Bear Dog and not a Koi, things would've been different. She would’ve been born braver, maybe she would have been a waterbender and she and Katara would have died together, dragging a slew of naval men with them.
They spent three days in the port of the Estival Peninsula. It was one of the annexed areas of the main continent that had been under direct control by the Fire Nation for the last three hundred years. The region was undoubtedly Fire Nation with little Earth Kingdom influence. Though Yue had not been allowed off the boat, what she had seen of the city was a clear indication of the culture she was being brought into.
The gray-eyed firebender blazed into Yue's room, a broad girl on her face. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. "It's nothing but smooth sailing from now on!" She exclaimed and had Yue not been sweltering, she would've shared her excitement. "You have officially reached the capital of the Fire Nation archipelago!"
Yue fanned herself desperately and tried to register her words. The last few days had been unbearable as they floated into the archipelago. Her polar dog had shared her sentiment, whimpering and yipping. They were in the capital, she realized. She was now an official prisoner. To try and escape now, if she dared, would mean certain death.
The young woman pulled Yue to her feet and clasped her hands together, reaching for her belt and holding up a pair of cuffs. "Zhao's orders," she said apologetically and clapped them into place, pulling the white-haired princess towards the door. "It’s a formality. But on the bright side, you won't have to come back down here!"
From her belt, she also produced a small length of rope. The woman glanced at Yue and then knelt, pulling Tui towards her and looping the rope around Tui's neck. She straightened, "Alright," she said, "let's go." She herded Yue out of the room and towards the deck, a path that the Northern princess had long since memorized. A burst of warm air swept down the stairs to meet them.
From the prow of the ship, Yue could see the main island of the Fire Nation rapidly growing, and from the water before it came a massive stone statue. It was of a man with a sharply lined face and his hands thrust out to either side of him. From his stone palms was a wide net that had been lit on fire, hovering above the water.
“The Gates of Azulon," the gray-eyed firebender whispered breathlessly, her eyes wide with wonder, as if she had never seen something so majestic and threatening.
Yue studied the colossal statue, its long face drawn into a frown and its deep set eyes glaring out into the sea. As the ship drifted closer, she saw the blazing net retract towards the massive palms of the effigy. "He was a very intimidating man." She had heard of the Fire Lord driven mad by age and avarice. He had decimated his council to weed out a traitor and the actions of his heir had done nothing to appease him. The Fire Lord’s son had aimed to once more allow the four nations to flourish on their own but his candle was winked out by his brother the Phoenix King. It was apparent that the man’s ambitions left no room for clemency- not even towards his own flesh and blood.
“Oh yes," her guard nodded, "At least from what I heard. I was only a baby when the Phoenix King first came onto the throne." She opened her palm and her hand fluttered absently, "I think he looks like Azulon, that was his father, but..well, when you see him, you'll notice that the Phoenix King is very sharp and very beautiful. No one can compare to him
And evil, Yue thought.
They passed through the flaming gates and Yue caught sight of a small port and fishery tucked into a side of the large island. The capital city began to rise up around them, massive red and black pagodas that reached for the clouds and spiraling towers that glinted in the sunlight.
The sun beamed down upon Yue's neck and face as the ship slid into the port. There was a great tolling of bells and from the docks, a loud cheer rose up.
For a brief heartbeat, she was reminded of another time her ship entered a port, except it had been blue and cold and she had known that she was safe. It felt like a hundred years ago.
A princess takes dignity in all things, Yue reminded herself and lifted her chin. She was a Koi, not a delicate flower, and she willed herself to never forget. Yue inhaled the summer air and raised her face to the sun. And then Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe went to face her fate.
Chapter 16: The Jewel of the North
Chapter Text
Zuko
Zuko's father was seated in the garden, staring out at the water and as Zuko approached him, he wondered what he was seeing. Phoenix King Ozai saw the world not for what it was but rather what he could mold it into.
Zuko paused and took a step back. He hadn't expected his father to be in the garden, though he found that he rarely expected his father to be anywhere except the throne room. He bowed, although he knew that his father couldn't see him, and made move to step away.
“Sit," Ozai said, and Zuko knew that it was a command. He moved to his father's side and sat on the grass. For a moment, the Phoenix King was very still, his eyes searching the water in the pool. "The South has completely fallen," his voice was flat, "and the Northern Water Tribe is under our thumb."
The chief of the Southern Water Tribe had fallen at the hands of a commander named Zhao. His daughter had been taken hostage, though she and part of the naval crew had been lost when one of the ships capsized in a freak accident. Zuko knew that his father had been irritated by the inconvenience, but he had gained power over the North through the princess that had been captured in the fray.
That princess would be an official ward of the crown and would live within the palace grounds. Zuko knew that was simply protocol for a hostage. They could wrap her in silks and feed her delicacies but it wouldn’t change the circumstances. It wouldn’t change what she was.
“When will they get here?" Zuko asked and plucked a piece of grass, letting his fingers warm. The blade of grass caught fire and he extinguished it quickly, letting the ashes fall from his hand.
Ozai turned his golden gaze onto him and then looked at the sky. "Today," he said, "You and your sister will see to it that she adjusts to the Fire Nation."
"She's not going to be a prisoner?" Zuko asked. He knew she would live in the palace complex, but he hadn't considered that he would have to interact with her. He had imagined she would be confined to some other wing of the palace away from the rest of them.
"She's a princess," Ozai replied briskly and slid easily to his feet. He was a broad shouldered, powerfully built man, but had the grace of a leopard lion, a leopon, and a swiftness that Zuko could only hope to replicate. He looked down at Zuko and his brow twitched ever so slightly, "where is your crown?"
Zuko reached up to feel his topknot, feeling an empty space where his Crown Prince diadem normally was. His father stared at him coolly and Zuko dropped his gaze, "I forgot it," he answered quietly.
Ozai, the Phoenix King, made a sound that indicated both disinterest and annoyance. "Don't be a disappointment," he grunted and made move to leave the garden, a flash of black hair and red armor.The young prince watched the turtle-ducks move languidly across the surface of the pool, quacking at each other every so often. A duckling hopped onto the bank, looking curiously at Zuko's shoes before waddling away.
Zuko rose and crossed the garden, back into the archway of the palace. He looked up, catching sight of his mother and sister. Their backs were to him, and he could see his mother's delicate hands raking through Azula's hair, pulling it into a new knot.
He didn't see the point. Azula was calculated and meticulous in all things, especially her appearance. He could see her stiffened shoulders, her ire peaking. He half expected her to whirl around on their mother and snarl, but Azula had always maintained a control over her emotions that Zuko had yet to possess.
"I can do it myself, Mother," Azula hissed and pulled her head from her mother's reach. She turned and caught sight of Zuko, throwing him an exasperated glare. "It was fine the way it was."
Ursa, their mother, made a cluck of disapproval. “Nonsense. You have to be presentable for when we receive the princess," she tittered, "and that means you need to have your hair down. I don't want the princess to think I have two sons instead of one."
Azula rolled her eyes. "The Water Tribe girl is a hostage, not a diplomat. I don’t care what she thinks. If Commander Zhao had been competent enough to bring both of them, then we would never have to think about the Water Tribes again. He probably would've been promoted."
“Probably," Ursa said and lashed out with serpentine speed, pulling Azula's shirt collar towards her and holding her head in place. Her brows had begun to knit together in the beginnings of a scowl. “But that's no concern of yours at this moment." She glanced at Zuko and her gaze softened. "Coming to a new place will be very scary for her, prisoner or not. I know what it's like to be in a new place."
The Phoenix Queen came from the governing family on an island known as Hira'a. She had originally been a Summer Bear, the sigil of her family. She had been a dragon, and then a phoenix.
Azula narrowed her eyes and their mother continued to bind the girl's hair with a golden ribbon. "You'd better get your crown, Zuzu," she said mockingly and Zuko shook his head, moving away from his sister and mother and continuing down the hall.
His door had been left open and he sauntered in, catching sight of his golden headpiece on top of the drawer. It formed two thin wisps of flame, forged from the finest, thinnest gold in the archipelago. Turning to the looking glass, he fitted the crown onto his hair. He stared at his reflection and considered for a moment that his rooms had once belonged to his father's brother, the traitor Iroh. He had once been the Crown Prince, the heir to a man gone half-mad from power and the figure whose shadow Ozai had always been hidden in.
Iroh, the traitor, had tried to weaken the power of the country by suggesting that the Fire Nation relinquished its hold over the other nations and that all the kingdoms became independent and separate. He would've destroyed centuries of hard work and unity and Ozai, Zuko's father, had been determined to stop him.
Decades had passed since the treacherous Dragon had died, and there was no trace of him left.
"Prince Zuko," a servant appeared in the doorway, head dropped into a bow and hands clasped before them, "your family has decided that they will travel to the city entrance to meet the Water Tribe princess, and I have been ordered to inform you that they are waiting for you."
Zuko made a face and the servant stepped aside to let him pass. "I just saw my father," he said, "and he said nothing about retrieving the princess." The servant shrugged, as if the whims of royalty did not concern him. "Do you know where she's going to be kept?"
The servant had no answer and Zuko rolled his eyes.
They walked through the halls and Zuko had never noticed how dim the inner corridors were before now. His eyes had long since gotten used to the faded light in the palace.
The servant led him through another wing of the royal palace and pushed open the heavy lacquered door. The main strip of cobblestone road that led to the main gates of the residence was empty, except for the royal palanquins placed beside a stone fountain. Litterbearers stood beside them, stoic and prepared.
The last time Zuko had ridden in a palanquin was when they had attended Takuma's funeral. He had thought that the attendees paid more attention to the royal family than they did to the actual home going. The Phoenix King had praised Takuma's loyalty and lit the pyre that would see Takuma into the afterlife. Afterwards, Zuko remembered, his father had sat in his audience chamber and read.
Azula strode from the opposite direction, her shoulders squared and her chin lifted just slightly, so she could look down upon others at all times. Zuko saw that she had undone their mother's work, her hair now back in its standard topknot with the two locks of hair framing her face. Behind her came their parents. "The prisoner will have to sit with us...Father ordered it."
Ozai’s word was law.
As they stepped up and entered the palanquin, Zuko sat down with his back to the front of the litter. Azula faced him, her legs crossed in the lotus position. The shadows of the inside of the gold palanquin fell upon her face, highlighting her scowl. She snapped the curtain closed. “I do hope we get this over with quickly. Mother is insistent that we make the girl feel welcome. She is not welcome. She’s a prisoner and a pawn.”
The palanquin rocked as it was lifted and Azula glared at the curtain behind Zuko’s head.
"I hope she likes komodo chicken and curry," he offered. "They don't have komodo chicken at either of the poles. They don't have proper daylight for a month either. A lot of them go crazy during that time. They call it midnight sun madness. It’s also said that both of the poles are known to have been the most spiritually abundant places in the entire world, that's why Father wants the south." He looked up, cognizant of his blathering, and saw Azula's sneer.
"Father doesn't want the south, Zuzu. He already has it. The Fire Nation has had the south since the day the first chief bowed his head." Azula huffed. All the nations of the world had relinquished some of their sovereignty to the Fire Nation in exchange for prosperity. The Air Nomads, however, were the only nation that had kneeled completely. Azula leaned forward and smiled deviously, "Father told me a secret," she sang, "holding the princess isn't the only way to keep the North under control."
"What are you talking about?" Zuko leaned forward and Azula chucked him under the chin like she would to a pet.
She waved her hand. "He told me that he's commissioned scientists and engineers to build a very special ship to carry a very special cargo at a moment's notice. The construction will take years to perfect." Her eyes began to twinkle, "Even the thought of it chills my bones."
Zuko waited, knowing that Azula was baiting him. Perhaps she would answer, perhaps she would not.
"Twelve tons of blasting jelly," she whispered, "one spark and the whole Northern Water Tribe will go up in flames. And it will burn for five days." She looked at her nails and rubbed the edge of one casually. "Highly potent stuff, very menacing. Wait until the princess hears that!"
The thought of it sent a chill up Zuko's spine. Only professional technicians were authorized to handle blasting jelly, which was wildly unpredictable even in its mildest form. Blasting jelly was only used to break sieges and even then the ethics of its use were highly contested. Firebenders had died from carelessness around the substance. The mild, more common form, was known to scald and blister skin. The more volatile formula, once it had been lit, would vaporize skin and bone, incinerate wood, and melt iron and steel. He had once read that it had been modeled after dragon fire.
Twelve tons.
Zuko caught the smell of the ports and the common city, and when he peeked out of the curtain, he saw the aged buildings that crowded the port.
The palanquin came to a halt and the litterbearers set it down. Zuko stepped out first, catching sight of his parents as they descended from their own palanquin. His father was first, reaching back to hold the queen’s hand. A number of armored and decorated men approached them. From the vantage point of where they stood Zuko could see ships unloaded at the docks.
Unmistakable as always, the commander Zhao strode towards them, dipping low at the waist to Ozai and bowing to the children. He grinned broadly and Zuko realized that the man was too smug for his own good. He wore his full regalia including the most recent medals that had been bequeathed upon him after thwarting a gang of pirates. “My king, my queen!” He greeted Zuko’s parents. “I did not expect for you to receive us here in person. Please forgive the lackluster welcome.”
Ozai paid the man no mind. “And the girl?”
The man’s simpering formalities cracked imperceptibly before he quickly schooled his courtesies. Zhao gestured widely and brought their attention to a slight figure surrounded by Fire Nation guards. She was taller than expected, perhaps taller than Azula, and appeared to be of an age with Zuko. Her brown skin was flushed by the foreign Fire Nation heat, and her large blue eyes were wide with curiosity and apprehension. Her delicate hands were bound.
Her hair, though, was the most surprising thing.
Her hair was white.
Azula looked mildly disgusted, and their mother had a small pout that seemed to resonate with pity. Ozai's face was unreadable, but he dipped his head towards the white-haired princess. Azula leaned her head towards Zuko, "At least she isn't a barbarian."
The Northern Water Tribe was a civilized people, more civilized than their southern counterparts, Zuko thought, perhaps not as advanced as the Fire Nation, but passable.
A Fire Nation guard, a gray-eyed woman, pushed the princess forward. Zuko recognized the woman as a sibling of Ty Lee's, one of Azula's lackeys. The Water Tribe girl regained her composure quickly and stooped into a bow, taut as an arrow. She had yet to look up.
Ursa gestured for her to rise, her mouth drawn into a thin line. "What's your name, girl?" She asked and let out a yelp of surprise when a ball of white fur weaved around her legs.
The princess gasped and reached down, snagging the animal quickly. She held it protectively to her chest, though it was much too big for her arms, her blue eyes flickering back and forth with fear. "I'm sorry!" She stammered. "I'm so sorry, my lady." The animal appeared to be some kind of canine pup. "My name is Yue, Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe."
The queen nodded and extended a hand, brushing her fingertips over the princess's white hair. She rubbed her fingers together and the young girl stood still, clutching her animal possessively. Zuko could see her blue eyes boiling with discomfiture. "You've been touched by a spirit."
"Yes," the princess Yue said and Ursa dropped her hand, smiling knowingly.
“The Jewel of the North," the queen turned back to her palanquin. “Come along, child. You shall ride back to the palace with my daughter and son, the Princess Azula and Crown Prince Zuko. We won’t tarry, I’m sure you desire a proper bed and bath.” The Phoenix King followed and helped her up into her seat without a second glance at the Tribal princess.
Azula stepped forward as the prisoner turned to face them expectantly. Her countenance was decidedly neutral. A true courtier, Zuko noted. "The North lost their most prized possession, didn't they?" Azula jeered and gestured for Zuko to help the girl onto the seat. "The Jewel of the North."
The princess's jaw set and she did not answer. She wouldn't rise to Azula's bait, and Zuko decided he liked her already.
"I'm Princess Azula," his sister went on even though their mother had already made their names known. She pulled the curtain closed behind them and snapped at the litter bearers to move quickly. "And this is my brother, the Crown Prince Zuko." She paused and looked disdainfully at the white dog. "What is that...thing?"
As if offended, the animal barred small puppy teeth. Azula shrank back.
Yue stroked the pup's fur. "Her name is Tui and she's a polar dog. She was a gift from…from the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and his children.” Her eyes settled on Zuko, as if she decided that she was safe around him before she averted them once more.
Azula's brow rose. “It’s hideous.”
Yue’s jaw set. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Princess. I’ve little doubt that my people would think the same of your…fauna. What makes a place hospitable is a matter of opinion as well. My arctic composition is not inclined for this climate.” Though her tone was sweet, Zuko did not miss the barbed words.
Neither did Azula. “ A little ice lily like you will melt under the sun.”
"I'm not a delicate flower." The princess said sharply, defiantly, and for a heartbeat Zuko’s sister flailed for a response. The white-haired princess turned her face away and frowned. "I am a Koi."
“So you are," Azula muttered and fell silent for the remainder of the return back to the palace.
The princess stroked her polar dog, her eyes half-lidded, as if she thought that if she could not see them, then they would go away.
When the palanquin was set down again, Zuko hopped out first. He reached back and caught the princess's arm. She stiffened but did not pull away, whispering a thanks. She turned and gasped at the sight of the palace, with its golden and black spires pushing towards the clouds.
“Azula and I have to make sure you're settled," Zuko said and paused, "just because you're a prisoner doesn't mean you'll sleep in the dirt."
Yue smiled softly, almost to herself. "A princess takes dignity in all things," she mused and followed them into the palace, holding onto the pup's leash. Her eyes twinkled as she took in the lacquered doors and black tiles, she placed great interest in the illustrations placed upon the walls.
Zuko escorted her to the guest wing and Azula walked beside her. The silence was awkward and palpable, the air thick and hard to swallow. Yue seemed to have frozen over, her features stiff and placid. Had the building collapsed around them, Zuko doubted she would flinch.
"I'm afraid the servants forgot to provide shackles," Azula said and pushed the door of a room open. She swept her arm out, "Here. My father's kindness."
Yue stopped and stood in the doorway. "Oh," she gasped quietly, her free hand fluttering and falling. "Oh."
The room was large and airy, with a great window that oversaw one of the cool colored gardens. The room itself was a dark burgundy with gold accents thrown around almost carelessly throughout the room. A vanity and wardrobe had already been prepared, and on the bed lay a blood red gown.
"There were two rooms," Azula said and entered the room, swiping a perfectly manicured finger along the vanity. "But I'm afraid you'll be the only Tribesman here. I imagine you'll be very lonely. The lost Jewel of the North," her smirk widened and she caught a lock of Yue's hair, "at least you'll have your spirits to talk to."
She turned quickly on her heel, beckoning for Zuko to follow, and when he looked back, he saw that the Northern princess had sat on the bed, her pet curled at her feet. She had buried her face in her hands and was trembling ever so slightly. For a moment, Zuko wondered if she was crying.
Without warning, she lifted her head and met his gaze. Her blue eyes hardened and Zuko saw grief and anger, and resignation pass through her gaze in rapid succession.
“See you in the morning," Zuko offered pitifully.
“Yes," Yue replied, so gently that Zuko almost missed it. "In the morning."
Chapter 17: The Proposal
Chapter Text
Sokka
People were flocking to the ruins of IcePoint. They brought with them treasures and weapons, and warriors from even the smallest, most remote villages in the south laid their spears at his feet. They brought with them loyalty, and when Sokka went out to meet them, they all knelt and saluted him.
They had accepted him as their chief and their avenger, looking to him to eliminate the threat of the Fire Nation and the Phoenix King.
Sokka could not fail them.
“Chief," Touqa addressed him and Sokka hid his surprise. It had been almost three weeks and he still wasn't used to being addressed as the leader of the Southern Water Tribe. That had always been his father's title, one that Sokka had always imagined growing into. Now it was suddenly thrust upon him and it sounded twisted and wrong. It had come too soon. "Sokka, someone wants to see you."
He was tempted to turn them away. He had gotten tired of the obligatory saluting and thanking, and hearing tales about his father from people had barely known him. He had gotten tired of the pitiful gazes of elderly women and men who wondered how a boy could ever hope to lead them. He had gotten tired of the questions, like "what will the south do now?" or "are we at war?"
He didn't know. They would have to do something soon, but he wasn't sure what. He had ideas - he had always had ideas. He was Sokka the Idea-Guy, Sokka the Brilliant.
At his feet, tucked under the desk that had belonged to his father, Amarok growled softly. His favorite dog had yet to leave him, even curling up at Sokka’s feet when he managed to sleep. Sokka suppressed a sigh. "Let them in."
Touqa nodded and left, his boots echoing down the reconstructed halls. The framework of the most damaged parts of IcePoint had nearly been completed and ice and stone were being hauled in from quarries nearly daily. Waterbenders had lunged at the opportunity to show their loyalty in the reconstruction efforts. Sokka figured that it could've been done faster, but he found that leadership was not as easy as his father had made it seem. His heart said one thing but the treasury said another.
In Touqa's absence, another figure stepped in. Bato looked about as tired as Sokka felt, his eyes turned down at the corners. He sat silently on the other side of the desk, his hands on his knees. For a moment, neither he nor Sokka spoke.
“What are you going to do?" Bato asked finally.
There was that spirits-forsaken question again.
What what what. It was never hi Sokka are you hungry Sokka do you need a hug Sokka -
Sokka very much needed a hug.
Sokka rummaged through the parchment that he had never gotten around to moving. His scribbles and sketches were nonsensical to most. He set one underneath Bato's nose and gauged his reaction. Unsurprisingly the man’s face was blank. Sokka leaned back. "We can't stop the Fire Nation, at least not on our own. And the North Pole is too far away. But...I remember you and Dad talking about how all the nations of the world were separate. And I was thinking that maybe if we gathered enough allies in the other nations, then we could beat the Fire Nation back."
Bato looked at the parchment and then at Sokka. "You can't undo something that has been around for generations so easily," he said. "It doesn't work that way."
“I know," Sokka relented, "but think about it from the perspective of an Earth King, if the Southern Water Tribe was to collapse, then what would stop the Fire Nation from turning on them and eradicating them? All it takes is one coup d’etat and surprise surprise now you answer directly to the bird king. Kings and emperors are notoriously self-preserving."
"And how do you plan to gather these allies? You can't take an army overseas, rebuild IcePoint, and defend the south pole all at the same time. You don't have the money." Bato scratched his chin. The coffers ran deep and the gold from the firebenders was not without its uses, but neither was infinite.
Sokka ground his teeth. "IcePoint can be put aside for a little while.” The numbers and figures began to whirl around in his mind. “And I don't plan on taking an army overseas. I plan on taking an envoy." He chose his next words carefully, "I can't just sit here and let the Fire Nation overrun us. When we pushed Dad out to sea, I knew what I had to do."
Bato leaned back and his eyebrows twitched. As he opened his mouth to reply, Touqa reappeared. With him came a limping man. His arms were wrapped in gauze and Sokka saw more bandages creeping through the collar of his shirt. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Sokka found that he could not pinpoint where he had seen the man.
"This man claims to have been a servant in IcePoint before..." Touqa said and Sokka suddenly could put a name to the man's face. "He says his name is Parqik and that he had just recovered enough to return." Touqa's eyes shifted towards the old man, "he says he brings very important news."
Sokka knew Parqik. He had been one of the servants that had always been in the citadel, Sokka remembered him from his childhood. His sons had been his playmates. “What is it?" He asked and Bato stood, making room for the older man to sit. He took the seat with a sigh of gratitude.
Parqik's eyes searched Sokka's, perhaps looking for traces of Hakoda in him, and drew in a deep breath. "The princess is not dead," he said, voice falling into a hoarse whisper, "Your sister Katara is not dead."
Sokka felt as though he was floating.
They hadn't found her body, a detail that Sokka wasn't sure he was grateful for. He wasn't sure what would've been better. Had they found her, perhaps there would have been some closure. She would have joined their father and their mother in the afterlife. Had they found Yue, they could've returned her to the North. Sokka imagined the letter he would've been forced to send: "Sorry about your daughter," he would've written, "it was nice having her around."
The last he had seen of Katara and Yue had been them leaving the dining hall, walking so close together that they had appeared to be joined at the hip. He remembered thinking that he would take on any firebender who threatened his sister. He remembered that first night alone, when his father's face was still fresh in his mind, and he had dreamed that his father said that he was disappointed in him for not protecting his sister. Sokka hated that dream.
“Oh?" Sokka said finally.
Parqik nodded stiffly, his eyes downcast. "They stole her," he went, "they stole her and the Northerner. I saw them carrying them away just before the dining hall caught fire. If I could’ve stopped them I would! I even tried." He put his head in his hands. Sokka did not have to ask for clarification. His wounds were answer enough. “She is gone," he groaned, "She's gone."
Sokka leaned back and scratched the back of his head, squinting to ease the stinging in his eyes. "Well," he looked at Bato. "This changes everything."
At his nod, Touqa gently took Parqik's arm and escorted him out. "This changes everything, " Sokka repeated. "It means Katara and Yue are most likely in the Fire Nation. It means that the Bird King is asking for trouble."
“Now, Sokka, don't be rash," Bato raised his hands. "We can't make rash decisions. If you plan on gathering allies in the Earth Kingdoms, then perhaps at this moment the Fire Nation is the best place for them to be."
Despite himself, Sokka felt anger welling up and threatening to spill over. Amarok growled at his feet and he found himself standing, glaring at the older man. "The best place for my sister to be is here, in the south!” They were Polar Bear Dogs, a pack. The south and IcePoint was a part of them, the ice hummed in their veins. Bato said nothing, allowing the cold anger to glide over him unperturbed.
Sokka decided to move on. He picked up a map that had been dangling on the edge of the desk. "The closest Earth Kingdom is Kyoshi," he recited, "it's also the smallest." He pointed to a spot on the map. It was a tiny island headed northwest of the continent, not terribly far from Whale Tail Island. It could pass as a province and not a kingdom, and in the olden days it had been. The kingdom was named after Avatar Kyoshi, who from Sokka’s most basic lessons was an Earth Kingdom Avatar who literally crushed anyone who opposed her. After a conflict she had gathered her people and they formed a region of their own. "I imagine they'll join us in no time. Then, we can go through Taku and Omashu." He held up his fingers, making his way north and west. "That's three out of eight. After that, Gaoling." Gaoling was close to the heart of the continent, the third largest of the kingdoms. He was being optimistic, he knew, but Sokka figured his charming personality and striking good looks could sway them. He knew better than to consider Laogai and Arakem, the largest polities. Garsai was the closest to the Fire Nation. Sokka, thank the gods, was not stupid.
Bato blinked. "These are very proud kingdoms," he rubbed his chin, "very proud and very influential. Gaoling is the richest kingdom in the west, they'll be hard to convince. You’d be asking these kingdoms to put a target on their backs.”
“It's a chance we'll have to take," Sokka replied. "If everything goes well, we can get two ships and supplies ready in two, maybe three weeks." The plan began to fall into place in his mind, "in the right conditions, it'll take maybe five, six days to get to Kyoshi." That was being generous, he knew, but he craved some unhinged optimism. He would have to take into account delays, but he was Sokka the Plan Guy, Chief Sokka with the Plans, and that would be no problem. He was a man with a goal, he thought. He would avenge his father and his tribe, and get his sister back.
Or die trying, he thought, but that was a last resort.
Sokka pushed himself to his feet and his polar dogs sprang after him. He stepped into the hall, met by the sight of waterbenders carefully reconstructing the corridors ruined by the firebenders. The dining hall had been destroyed for the most part, and Sokka had spent most of his meals in the quiet of his father's chambers with only Bato and Gran-Gran for company.
He considered the information he had acquired.
Katara was alive, that was a relief.
Yue was alive, which meant no awkward explanations to the North, even though he knew that they would eventually learn what had happened. He couldn’t exactly send a curt letter. What’s the royal etiquette for princess kidnapping anyway?
The girls were in the Fire Nation, at the mercy of the Phoenix King, and would serve as leverage over the Water Tribes. But that meant they were valuable. And being valuable means you are untouchable.
It was fine, Sokka thought, he could work with that.
He exited out of the sanctum where Kunip and Touqa were waiting for him with Desna and Innik. Innik recovered quicker than Yukka, who still spent most of his time in the makeshift kennels. Touqa grinned broadly. While they had already been close, his friends had exemplified what it meant to be bloodsworn. Neither of them were ever far away, acting as his deputies when Bato was handling other affairs. Kunip managed the construction affairs while Touqa had personally rebuilt the palace guard, training in the earliest stretches of the morning. They had been the first to shed their looks of pity, a fact he would always be grateful for.
Sokka relayed his ideas to them.
Kunip was silent as they walked, his eyes instead on Amarok and Desna padding in front of them. Touqa, as always, was more lighthearted. “Aye well I, for one, am not opposed to a change of scenery. If you close your eyes and squint, it’s like a summer vacation!”
“I can’t wait for long walks on the beach.” Sokka added and Kunip slapped himself on the forehead with a groan of exasperation, forever the poor soul that had to endure their snark. Sokka and Touqa fell into boyish giggles.
“We’ll be gone for a long time, Sokka.” Kunip was the voice of reason. “I know we’re not leaving the south defenseless, but…who will maintain order in the meantime? This isn’t exactly a trip you can complete in a week.”
Sokka had already considered that. “Technically…I never completed my ritual hunts.” Touqa and Kunip had stopped to stare at him as he went on. “So I was thinking… this could take its place.” It would go down in history, he thought, the most large-scale ritual hunt in the whole history of the Southern Water Tribe. “In my absence, Gran-Gran and the elders will manage the tribe’s affairs.” He hadn’t exactly asked her yet, but what was the worst that could happen?
———-
Gran-Gran had always been ancient. For as long as Sokka could remember, his grandmother had always been wrinkled and small, but with a sharp tongue and a sharper eye. She still swatted at Hakoda even when he was a man grown, with children of his own and an entire nation to run. Very few were brave (or stupid) enough to cross the old woman who had somehow made her way south all the way from the North Pole with little more than a hunting knife and the clothes on her back when she was barely more than Sokka’s age.
She glowered at him now from across the dinner table, bundled up in black furs that made her wrinkled skin seem wan.
"You won't leave me here with these soft bellied snow pansies," she said and Sokka winced from where he sat across from her. Gran-Gran had a complex relationship with the other tribal elders, having grown up with most of them and being annoyed by them at the same time. "You expect these frail old men and women to run the tribe? And you expect me to put up with them?"
“Well...yes," Sokka said.
Gran-Gran seemed to swell, and then deflate at the same time. Her eyes rose to meet Sokka's and he was reminded that she hadn't cried at his father's funeral. He braced himself for whatever words would come next. "First I lost my son," she said, "and now my grandson is leaving me."
He considered how his grandmother must have felt. No parent wanted to outlive their child. She had lost her only son, whom she had always touted as the pride and joy of her life. Her love for Hakoda had spilled over to include his children. For a moment, Sokka hung his head, unable to find words to fill the space between them. “I'm not leaving you, Gran. I'm doing this for Dad, and I'm doing this to get Katara back." He smiled, "Consider this part of my rite of passage. I talked it over with Kunip and Touqa and they thought it was a good idea. I was hoping you and Bato could officially announce it.”
By ancient technicalities, Sokka could not legally rule on his own until he had completed the rituals of manhood. For most heirs, the hunts would conclude around the same time they turned sixteen- the general age of adulthood in most parts of the world. Sokka’s had started a bit earlier. He was still a somewhat fresh fifteen, having just celebrated the day of his birth a couple weeks before Yue’s arrival. Katara, barely a year younger, had been only a few days out of the shadow of her fourteenth birthday when their northern guest came to visit. “We can skip the usual ceremony and fanfare.”
His grandmother did not look amused. He wondered if she was remembering a time when her family had been whole, when it had been her son and her daughter-in-law, and her grandchildren and they had all been a pack. Sokka found himself lost in the hazy memories of his early childhood, chased by his mother and father, his peals of laughter ringing in his ears. He had gone missing once when he was four and the entire household had turned IcePoint upside down in the search to find him. Bato and his parents had found him napping in a nest with the dogs, his makeshift warrior’s garb askew. Those were the faces of his happiest memories. Mom. Dad. Katara. Bato. Gran-Gran. And his dogs.
Gran-Gran reached across the and with one gnarled finger, she first traced the Water Tribe symbol across his face. She followed with the Polar Bear Dog, withdrawing her hand with a sense of finality.
“It is so." She said and Sokka knew that she had accepted his wishes.
“It is so," Sokka said.
His grandmother sat in silence, so at ease that Sokka suddenly came to realize that the strongest thing about their people was that they endured. They had survived countless long nights and unforgiving winters, they had lived and thrived under the harshest of conditions. Famine and disease were simply other foes to be fought. The South had made them durable, had made them unbent tundra trees even against the most violent blizzards. They would grieve and they would ache, Sokka knew, but they would endure. They would endure, and then they would thrive.
Chapter 18: The Phoenix Queen
Chapter Text
Yue
"Red looks good on you," Princess Azula said, her golden gaze flickering up and then down. She had her arms crossed before her chest and one foot pressed against the adjacent wall, leaning back with the sort of feigned laziness a predator would have while watching its prey. Yue watched her reflection in the mirror warily but Azula paid no mind. She did not smile, and Yue thought that she seemed more interested in her own appearance than Yue's.
Yue self-consciously looked down. The dress she had chosen was a deep, dark red, with subtle golden threads shot through. It was soft and fitted her nicely, made of the finest fabric she had ever felt. She had felt silk before, but this was from a region of the Fire Nation that cultivated only the best silkworms and thus unrivaled quality silk. She was a prisoner in luxury. "Thank you," she murmured, though she was unsure whether the Fire Nation princess had been genuine.
The Fire Nation royal family, in some ways, reminded Yue of Hakoda and his children. They were not the same, and Yue had learned that before she even met them, but she found that they both seemed to be driven by the same fervent emotion. They were the pinnacle of decorum in the public eye, a unit so cohesive that they seemed almost godly. Life seemed to sparkle in their eyes, as if they all had some innate desire to live and do as they pleased.
It was odd.
Azula was sharp and clever, like a fox-rat. She had a barbed tongue, hidden away in a beautiful face. Everything about her seemed to emanate power and passion and perfection . She seemed to be driven by not only the will to live, but to be first in all things. Except to be born.There was some animosity there, the way Yue caught her eyeing her brother’s crown with a covetous gaze. Yue had no doubt that the princess was ruthless. Yue had noticed it in the way that Azula always walked with her shoulders squared, pushing everyone out of the way.
Having finished preparing for the day, Yue gave herself one last once-over in the looking glass as Azula led the way out of her chambers. Yue closed the door of her room behind her. It was odd and scary to sleep in a room that was not her own, in a land of hot-blooded snakes. She had spent her days with only Tui for company, for the rare days when Azula or Zuko graced her with their presence. "Will your mother and father eat breakfast with us? And Zuko?"
"It will be a family event," Azula responded and smirked at Yue’s expression. She walked three steps ahead of Yue, her strides long and confident. Azula seemed tireless. Yue knew that she had been awake before dawn, blazing through her firebending katas. Firebenders rose with the sun.
They walked through the halls together, which were beautiful but entirely too red . The color was everywhere. The walls, the floor, her clothing. Red like fire. Red like blood. Yue lengthened her stride to stay in pace with Azula despite the fact that she was taller. Azula’s pointed boots clicked on the waxed tile while Yue’s sandals made quiet scuffs. They passed through a hall of windows and Yue looked out at the world out of reach. The palatial complex was more spread out than Yue’s home or IcePoint. The administrative buildings and the training yards faced the sunrise, lining the way to the main palace in the center of the complex. It seemed almost like a city of its own with its high walls and rows and rows of buildings, fountains, and gardens.
Finally they arrived at the palace dining hall. It wasn't like the dining hall at home, in the North, where attendees could sit on tiers and watch entertainers. It wasn't like IcePoint, which carried a certain warmth to it that made all souls feel welcome and appreciated. No, this one felt clinical, too clean and two quiet and Yue felt as though even the act of breathing was an offense. Two guards standing at the entrance pushed the huge, black doors open as they approached and bowed to the princess and her white haired hostage.
Within the hall, Yue saw the main table. It had been arranged with bowls of steamed rice and vegetables, and Fire Nation fruits. The Fire Nation princess's mother and brother were already sitting at the table, along with the Phoenix King.
Yue had only seen him once, when she had first arrived. The gray-eyed firebender had been right, the Phoenix King was beautiful. His alabaster features were chiseled from stone with sharp, high cheekbones that descended into flat, almost sunken cheeks. At their initial meeting she had seen that he was tall and younger than she had anticipated considering the stories told about him. He was perhaps even younger than Hakoda had been. It startled Yue to think that such a man had so much power. While the others seated acknowledged their entrance, the Phoenix King had not changed positions, his narrow golden eyes far away.
Azula brushed by Yue and took a seat beside her brother. Zuko nodded at her, unsmiling but not unkind, and Yue thought he was much easier to like. He patted the chair on the other side of him in invitation. Yue dipped her head in gratitude.
"Princess," the queen greeted, smiling kindly. She inclined her head, her golden diadem glinting in the light. She wore half of her hair pulled high while the rest spilled over her shoulders, almost to her waist. Her husband’s hair was equally as long and thick, black like spilled ink. Yue had never seen such a well matched couple. "I hope you slept well. It must be hard being here, all alone."
Yue smiled and hoped that it would suffice. It wasn't so bad, all things considered. But she hated them. Gilded as it may be, a cage was still a cage. And though she was free to roam, the walls and corners hid watchful eyes. She looked at the Phoenix King, golden and glorious, and she imagined the blood and soot of the south staining his hands. This was the man that had rocked not only his nation, but the world, off kilter. He was a warrior in his own right, she could tell by the callused hands and broad shoulders. Yue analyzed the entire family. These were the people who had slain the chief, the people who had forced her to become a prisoner.
The Phoenix King at last looked at her, as if he heard her thoughts, and Yue averted her gaze elsewhere. His golden eyes flickered over to the doors as they opened once more and Yue followed them with her own.
"Commander Zhao," the Phoenix King announced and Yue swallowed hard. His voice was rough like gravel, low and forceful. Her blood seized in her veins as the royal family’s esteemed guest made his entrance. He was just as terrifying as she remembered with his wide shoulders and thick sideburns and a stare that made Yue feel as though he was pulling her skin back layer by layer. The man strode into the dining hall, stopping to bow first to the king and queen, and then to Azula and Zuko. He took a seat across from them, the corners of his mouth turned upward in a gloating smirk upon sight of the Northern princess.
"It would've been Admiral," Azula sneered under her breath, “if he hadn’t failed so miserably at what should have been an easy task.”
Of course, Yue thought, the man had failed. In a sense. Had the commander managed to bring both Yue and Katara to the Fire Nation, he would've been hailed as a hero and commended with medals and titles that would propel him up the social ladder. Yue had no doubt that she would've still been a prisoner whether Katara was with her or not. Instead Katara was missing, presumably dead, and she was alone.
Having heard the princess’s criticism, the commander’s smug smile was nowhere to be seen. Yue looked at Azula and realized that the princess had ruined the man's pride in one breath. The younger girl lifted her chin in challenge. "Tell us, Commander Zhao, what...inspired you to separate the princesses?" Azula went on, "Princess Yue might've enjoyed the company of her kinsmen during the journey and even moreso here in the capital." Her brother, Zuko, cast a nervous glance at her. "And now…thanks to your blunder, the navy is missing a ship and crew."
Zhao looked first at the Phoenix King, who remained stony and silent, and squared his shoulders. "It was...a new tactic of psychological manipulation, Princess Azula. There are a number of texts accrediting its efficacy. Separate the prisoners and there will be no chance of resistance. Unfortunately it turned out that the other one, the Southern princess, was much more spirited."
"It seems your tactics don't always fall through," Azula said and meticulously sliced a fruit in three pieces with a knife. Her eyes sparkled. “Albeit I would’ve enjoyed a challenge. If the girl was able to not only wrest her way out of a soldier’s grip and sink a naval ship then I have no doubt she was a powerful bender. The prodigies always bite the hardest.” She bit into her orange and chewed, dabbing at her chin. “It was not the best time to try out new ‘psychological manipulation’, no?”
Zhao turned his glare onto Yue, as if she was the one to blame for his embarrassment. "Perhaps not, Princess Azula,” he replied finally. He faced Yue. "And how do you fare, Princess?"
Yue suddenly wished that Tui was with her, to bury her hands in the polar dog's fur. She was struck with the last image of Hakoda, forced to kneel at the commander's feet, pleading for them not to look. A princess takes dignity in all things, her mother had told her. She set her jaw and forced herself to look the demon in the eye. “I've adjusted exceptionally well, commander." She responded and smiled prettily. She could feel Azula's gaze on her, and the queen's. "The Fire Nation is very beautiful and the royal family is most kind.”
“Princess Yue, you flatter me!” Ursa’s voice tinkled. She nibbled at a piece of toast.
“It’s only true, Your Grace,” Yue sang and picked at the fruit set before her. Zhao was boiling in his seat. She had no doubt that he would kill her if he could. He was a man that lashed out like an animal when he felt small and Azula’s biting remarks had sapped away the pride of murdering the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. He stabbed at his food.
The Phoenix King’s lack of interest teetered between apathy and boredom. She noticed that of them all, he was the only one not partaking in breakfast. "Prince Zuko, you and your sister will oversee what I told you," the Phoenix King said and his children snapped to attention, turning to him as if he was the sun and they were basking in its glow. He looked pointedly at them, a look that Yue couldn't decipher but one that they obviously understood.
Zuko nodded respectfully and rose from his seat. Azula stood after him and they slid quietly from the hall with little more than askance of dismissal. The queen, Ursa, glanced at her husband and then reached across to touch Yue's wrist.
"The princess and I will leave you and the commander, my lord," she said and took Yue's arm in hers, pulling her to her feet. The queen had eaten very little, perhaps even less than Yue, but when she looped her arm through hers, Yue was surprised by the strength in the queen's grip.
They left the hall and Yue inhaled, drawing in the woman's scent. She smelled of cinnamon, which seemed to suit her. The only other queen she had been close to was her own mother, and she found that they both had the same air about them. Both dignified and regal.
Ursa's hand took a lock of Yue's hair and twirled it about her finger. "You're such a beautiful girl," she said, "truly the shining jewel of the north pole. Touched by the spirits. You probably pray to the ocean spirit to sweep us away, don't you?" the Fire Lady Ursa said suddenly and smiled, a lovely smile that caught Yue off guard. "You probably pray that they would show you mercy and drown us. You don’t have to deny it, child, I can see it in your eyes.”
"The spirits don't show mercy." Yue replied and forced herself to keep her jaw from clenching.
The Phoenix Queen laughed at that, high and mellifluous. They moved away from the inner sanctum, through the long corridors always seemed to end up in the same place. "Sometimes they do. Spirits are a fickle sort, sometimes they are with us, and other times they are not. You know that, don't you, little fish?"
I'm not little, Yue thought sourly. I am a Koi. A Koi, not just any type of fish and certainly not a delicate flower. "I know," she answered bluntly. She suddenly wondered what it would be like if she had asked the spirits to save her, if they had listened. Perhaps they figured that they had granted her life, for her to ask something else of them would be an overstep.
“What do you think of my children?" Ursa asked, leading her to through a door that opened into a quiet courtyard, complete with a bench and fountain. It reminded Yue of the one outside her bedroom window, but where the plants under her window were cool colored, this courtyard was bursting to life with red and orange plants and flowers. A geometric pond was across from the bench. "Of Zuko and Azula?"
Yue considered her words, knowing that one perceived insult would forfeit her life. "Prince Zuko is...very quiet. But I can tell he is smart and kind. You must be proud to have raised such a dignified heir." She sat on the bench and noticed that small dragons had been carved into the wood. "Azula is sharp."
The queen laughed once more. "Sharp...true enough." She sighed, almost wistfully. "The spirits were very kind to me when Zuko was born," she murmured. "When I asked them to not turn their backs on me, they listened. He was not always the hale prince you see. Nonetheless Zuko has always been my bright child."
Yue had heard of women dying in childbirth. Perhaps Ursa had prayed to live, and the spirits had listened. "I would think that Azula was the shining star."
Ursa nodded. "She is. Ever since she was born, Azula has been the one to claim the sunshine. She was born screeching, demanding at the top of her lungs. If the whole palace did not bend to her will and if one detail was out of place, she would wail without end. She has always been beautiful and clever. But...well, you are the firstborn, correct?"
"Yes," Yue replied. She remembered Kuruk, her plump brother back in the north. He had been doted on since his birth, being forgiven for things that Yue had been reprimanded for. She thought of his laugh and the way his cheeks would redden when she teased him, and a new wave of homesickness swept over her.
"There is a special love for the firstborn," the queen cooed. Her gaze focused on a spot across the courtyard, where Yue saw three men carefully snipping away the dead flowers and leaves in the garden. "Perhaps one day you will understand." She said very little after that, taking in the gardens and the men trimming and pruning.
The men slowly worked their way towards them. One of them, a man with tanned skin and light brown hair, shot glances at the Phoenix Queen and every once in a while, Yue saw her smile back.
"The lovely Phoenix Queen has blessed us with her presence," the tan skinned man smiled at them both,"and this the Water Tribe princess we've been hearing about?" He set down the shears he had been using and slid over to them, bowing deeply to the queen and acknowledging Yue with a genuine gesture of respect. Turning back to Ursa, he caught her slender, pale hand in his, "Agni himself could never shine as bright as you." Yue raised her brows at the blatant display of familiarity. Her own mother would have had the man’s fingers chopped off.
Ursa suddenly seemed to turn into a blushing young girl. "Save your flattery, gardener, and get back to work," she preened and pulled her hand away. "My husband and king likes his gardens to be nicely manicured, to be perfect. One leaf out of place and he will have your head.”
The gardener grinned boyishly. Yue felt as though she had missed out on a brilliant, yet deeply intimate joke. She looked at the queen, who had suddenly taken a great interest in her shoes.
"Does the Phoenix King like the gardens?" Yue asked and Ursa's head snapped up, her eyes unreadable. The northern princess faltered and leaned back, wondering if she had said something wrong.
Ursa gestured dismissively, her shoulders relaxing. "I suppose he does." Her brows rose and her lips pursed, "you're a clever little girl, though I should hardly call you that. You're a woman grown, aren't you?" With her smile gone, Yue suddenly saw the stark resemblance between the queen and her daughter.
Confused at the sudden shift of tone, Yue studied her sandals. "Everybody seems to think so." Yue replied and felt Ursa watching her. "So I suppose I am."
The queen lashed out suddenly and caught Yue's chin between her thumb and forefinger. The princess gasped as Ursa tugged her face closer. "You're a clever young woman from what I have seen but I imagine there's still much for you to learn." She stared into Yue's eyes, amber against blue. "I will bestow upon you something that I did not learn until I was older. It took me many years and much heartache to learn this, little one. You have allies and enemies in this world, and sometimes they are one in the same."
She released her chin and stood, placing her hands on Yue's shoulders to steady her. Her hands began to work at Yue's braids, running her fingers through the white locks to remove the tangles. With deft fingers, she pulled the princess's hair into a loose top knot and worked her fingers through the loose waves. Yue held still as the woman bound her hair, reeling internally from the Phoenix Queen’s words. Ursa tightened the top knot with Yue’s ribbon. I'm Water Tribe, she wanted to argue, Not Fire Nation, Water Tribe. She bit her tongue.
A princess takes dignity in all things.
Ursa looked back at Yue, her eyes once again soft and kind, her smile glittering. "There," she patted Yue’s shoulders, "you look very pretty. Some of the ladies will visit today and you're welcome to join me. I think it would do you some good to finally get out of those four walls. There are some girls that will be your age that hopefully you can strike a rapport with," she rolled her eyes, "spirits know how I tried to make Azula join me."
Yue wrung her hands and rose to follow the older woman. She felt awkward without the familiar weight of her braids, without the familiar blue clothes, but she remembered her mother's knowing stare. The Phoenix Queen had taken it upon herself to treat her kindly, and what could she do to refuse?
Chapter 19: The Inevitable
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
Lu-Ten dreamed of a golden crown and golden eyes that had been carved into trees. No matter which direction he turned, they were there. The crown hung from the branches, just out of reach, taunting, taunting.
He dreamed that he was sitting upon a gilded throne and black dais, and blue and golden flames danced at his feet. The flames flickered close to him, but Lu-Ten found that he did not fear the fire. It swelled and sank in time with his breath, a part of him as if it was his own hand. With his dream, Lu-Ten looked up from where he sat on the dais. Across the room, a heavy door opened and a man entered. He had graying hair and a full beard, and almond shaped eyes that glittered mournfully as he crossed the space between them. He wore black and red armor with a blood colored sash.
"Lu-Ten," the man heralded him with a kowtow. He rose. His voice was rough but not unkind. Lu-Ten beckoned for him to rise and when he looked at the man's face, he saw that his countenance was rounder than Lu-Ten’s own but the resemblance was there in the eyes. Though Lu-Ten’s eyes were narrower, their irises were the same.
"You're my father."
"Yes." The man in his dream answered. So this was the fallen Crown Prince, Lu-Ten thought, this was the man who had left him this legacy. Iroh. His father.
Lu-Ten looked at the dream-man. He was short, not quite as small as Lallo, but solidly built. Stocky. Lu-Ten was tall and lean with a tight waist and strong shoulders. But their eyes were the same. He found that he was at a loss for words.
"You are exactly what I expected you to be," Lu-Ten's father ascended the dais, taking a seat beside him on the cushion to his right. “You look like your uncle, not your fat old father.” He chuckled before sobering. “If only I could’ve held you one last time, my sweet boy.” Tears sprang into his eyes.
For a moment, Lu-Ten was speechless. "What happened?" He asked finally and the questions spilled forward before he could stop them. "Why did my uncle kill you? Who was my mother? Who brought me to the Sun Warriors? What does this dream mean?" The crown on his head felt very heavy.
His father’s features creased and Lu-Ten felt his heart ache. This man was his father, who perhaps had been a great father but he didn't remember. They were taken from each other too soon. "You were the joy of my life," Iroh wept, "I would've given up my crown if I could have watched you and raised you. I would have given up everything just to have you safe with me.” His golden gaze seemed to twinkle and dance. "What they say of Azulon is true. In his later years he became paranoid and fearful, and increasingly violent. He died of old age, thinking we were his enemies coming to kill him at his bedside.” Iroh picked at a loose thread on Lu-Ten’s vest. “Following the death of your grandfather, I was preparing to take the throne. Your uncle and I, we were never very close. Age played a part in that, I suppose. We had different ideas about the future, your uncle wanted to keep things as they were. I...I suppose I wanted peace and prosperity for all nations. There must be balance in all things. But Ozai orchestrated a usurpation. He killed your mother- "
"And you," Lu-Ten interjected.
Iroh's mouth tightened. "And me," he echoed. His tone became thick with grief. "Your mother was a very strong woman," he continued, "I was ten years her senior and she was still taller than me. If I had been able to save you both, things might have been different. If I had known what your uncle was planning…”
Lu-Ten considered it. He found that he could not imagine a life where he had not become a Sun Warrior. He could not imagine a life where he had not become one of Tuwa's brood. His childhood had been a happy one, full of light and love, and he had never gone without. "Who brought me here?" He asked, and tried to piece together a memory.
Perhaps there had been a time when he sat on his father's lap, as his father sat upon a throne, and at his side was a tall woman who must've been Lu-Ten's mother. A portraiture artist stood opposite with a canvas, capturing the sparkling eyes of his father and his own childish grin. It almost felt right, he thought. It might've even been real.
"The coup lasted two days," Iroh told him, "On the night after the first day, a very close friend of mine took you from your bed and carried you to the dock." Iroh paused and Lu-Ten saw the air around him shimmer. This was a dream, he reminded himself, it was not real. "He was apprehended by Ozai but he managed to get you to someone who would help. They brought you here, to the Sun People."
The memory of being lifted from his bed flooded his mind and he tightened his fingers around the golden throne. His hands passed through and Lu-Ten felt as though he was beginning to sink, the air he breathed began to thicken until it clogged his throat.
From the corner of his eye, he saw an azure dragon. In its mouth it carried a spear, and it balanced a crown on the tip of its tail. It crept closer, flaring its massive wings and darkening the room.
Lu-Ten reached for Iroh, his father, and his hands passed through him. He tried again and failed once more, panicked as he tried to scramble into his father’s lap. "What do you want?" He gasped, forcing the words out. "What do you want?" His eyes began to sting and he squeezed them shut. "You won't leave me alone!"
Iroh's smile glowed gently in the darkness. "Balance," his voice began to fade, "there must be balance in all things."
His smile and his eyes winked out, like candlelight, and Lu-Ten felt himself falling through the dais, through the floor and the earth-
"Wake up!"
Lu-Ten woke up to someone frantically shaking him, their hands warm against his skin. He swatted back, hands connecting against their body before his hands were pinned down crossed over his bare chest. He forced his eyes and lungs open with a gasp, feeling a cold sweat that had settled on his skin. He was in his own bed, in his room with a single glassless window in his modest house in the village-city of the Sun Warriors. He kicked the thin linen blanket until it was tangled about his legs.
Yaretzi was kneeling beside him on the bed, her brown eyes wide as they flickered over his face. She was clenching his hands in the position she had folded them into. "You were having a bad dream," she explained and used the other hand to stroke his cheek. "You were muttering and screaming.”
Her voice sounded distant and muffled, as if they were both underwater. He watched her face, watched her lips move and felt her hands as she shook him. His limbs felt heavy, his movements slow. After a moment's pause, he waved her off and pushed himself into a sitting position. Yaretzi watched him, warily at first, relaxing as he exhaled loudly.
It was easy to forget that Yaretzi was now his wife. Nothing had changed between them, Lu-Ten thought, besides the fact that he now shared a bed with her.
"I wouldn't call it a bad dream." He saw that their room was shrouded in the pale dawn light, thin slivers of light streaming in from the larger window in the front room. There were no doors in a Sun Warrior's house, only thick curtains that could be opened or closed. Lu-Ten was accustomed to leaving them open to walk freely throughout but Yaretzi had insisted on leaving it half open. "I'm not sure what to call it." He ran one hand through his hair, feeling the rough stubble that was beginning to sprout from the shaved sides. He would have to shave soon. Standing, he moved to pace about the bedroom. "I dreamt of my father."
Yaretzi's face creased into a frown. "Your father?"
Lu-Ten made a sound of affirmation. "I've been having strange dreams," he admitted, feeling the heat of her stare boring into his back. “Most of them have been brief. But in this dream, my father explained to me why I am here. He told me about the coup that left me an orphan, and about my uncle, the Fire Lord. And he told me that all things need balance." The Komodo-roosters were beginning their squawking ode to the morning.
At this, Yaretzi's breath hitched. Her jaw tightened and then relaxed, and for a moment Lu-Ten didn't recognize her. She was still Yaretzi, enticingly pretty the way she sat cross legged in his bed in just a thin white shift that left very little to the imagination. Any other man would’ve woken up with better thoughts in his mind, cryptic dreams be damned. When he looked at her she was not the young girl who had married him on a whim, who had always lingered at his heels as a child. At that moment she was a priestess, a temple attendant. "You know what all of this means," she said, and it was not a question.
"I have to do what the gods want," he said slowly, "I've dreamed about dragons and crowns." He met Yaretzi's gaze and she nodded reassuringly for him to go on, her face blank. "They want me to take the crown and restore balance." He laughed at the absurdity of it. "I've been a Person of the Sun for twenty years, do the gods really expect me to be able to take the throne? My uncle has a crown and armies, and other things I don't know about. What makes them think I even want a crown, even if I were to do it?"
"It's not what you want," her retort bit deeply. "The Fire Lord may have all of these things, but you have a birthright and the gods behind you." She climbed off the bed and padded over to him, taking his hand into her own. Lu-Ten exhaled contentedly as she stroked his facial hair. “If they did not believe in you, then they would’ve left the matter in the past or they would’ve found another.”
Lu-Ten ran a frustrated hand once more through his hair. "I would have to leave," he countered, "and what would you do then? I'd have to leave everything behind."
Yaretzi's lips fluttered into a shy smile. "Oh," she said quietly, her voice falling into a frail, tentative whisper, "I'd follow you anywhere, as sure as the sun rises." Before he could respond, however, she had released his hand and swept through the curtains that barred the room from the rest of the house.
He followed much slower, his limbs still heavy and numb, as if he had woken up far too soon. When he blinked, Lu-Ten thought he saw the dais and the man that was his father sitting upon it in the corner of the room. He squeezed his eyes shut. He could still feel the warmth on his skin.
The room was still cool and shrouded in gray light when he opened his eyes. After a moment, he shook himself. Everything was solid, he told himself and stomped the ground. Everything was real. Yaretzi was real, humming to herself in the kitchen as she readied their breakfast. There was no dais and there was no crown.
———-
"She told me," Tuwa said, standing over the pot of food that would be a part of their evening meal. Lu-Ten sat at her table, as he had been since leaving his house in the morning. “She told me about the dream."
Lu-Ten continued to chop the vegetables and for a moment, there was only the rhythmic thump of the knife against the table. "I figured as much," he lilted. Yaretzi had set off with her younger siblings on some adventure or another and Lallo was away with some girl. The house was empty save for Tuwa and the napping baby. "I don't think she understands the...I don't think she understands how much they are asking of me."
Tuwa looked up from the pot and Lu-Ten wondered if he had offended her. She set down the wooden spoon she'd been using and wiped her hands on her apron. "She's a peculiar girl," she said tersely. "But not a fool. Yaretzi has been reading the signs of the gods since she was knee high.." She turned and stared at him. “Lu-Ten, you know the emergence of the dragons and your dreams are not a coincidence."
"What do you expect for me to do? Leave and tell the world that I'm the true Fire Lord? Go back and tell them that their rightful king has been missing for twenty years?" He scooped up the vegetables and tossed them into the bowl harder than he needed to. “That’ll go over just fine. I don’t see any issues with that plan.”
Tuwa harrumphed. "I'm not royalty, I wouldn't know how these things go. You know those type of firebenders are different from us, they have forgotten the true meaning of fire."
Lu-Ten tapped the flat of the knife against the table, focusing on its hollow thawp thawp . "Do you remember the man who brought me here? And why did you take me in?"
The older woman laughed. "That was twenty years ago," she threw a handful of herbs into the pot. "Such a scrawny little boy, you were. The most pathetic little shrimp I’ve ever seen. You were brought here by one of us," she conceded with brittleness that suggested she was no longer interested, "though I doubt you'd remember. I don't know why I decided to raise you, perhaps because of Lallo and Moema. No one else volunteered to do it.”
He centered on her words. "You mean, you knew my father and never told me?"
Tuwa rolled her eyes. "Not me, someone else that dealt with outsiders more frequently. That's how we knew who you were, that's how you survived." Indicating that she had finished with the matter, she turned back to the pot.
Lu-Ten let the matter drop. There was a rustling sound outside of the house and he heard Lallo wrestling with his brother. Yaretzi and her sister had not returned yet, most likely at Moema’s house by now. "Do you expect me to leave?"
The woman let out a shout of exasperation and threw the spoon down. She spun around and Lu-Ten shrank back. "Yes!" She seethed, "I do. I want you to fulfill your destiny. Lallo wants you to go. Yaretzi wants you to go. The gods want you to go. And you will go, because you cannot defy the spirits. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but you will."
A palpable silence fell over the kitchen. Taking up the spoon once more, she stirred the stew vigorously and dumped the bowl of vegetables into the pot, her movements brisk. "You don't have a choice." She pointed out, sharply and quietly.
"Have I ever?" Lu-Ten shot back. "According to the Universe, have I ever?"
"No," Tuwa grunted bluntly. She turned back to him and held the wooden spoon out to him, its contents steaming. "Now," she said, "tell me what the stew needs."
Yaretzi and Moema were dancing when he found them in a clearing behind Tuwa's home. The youngest girl was sitting in the dirt with two of her dolls, re-enacting a wedding. The two older sisters were close by. A ball of orange-gold fire passed between them with every kick and spin.
Lu-Ten didn't think they sensed him. Moema's sharp kicks and twirls melted into Yaretzi's snaps and dips, the flame flickering between the decisive flash of their wrists. Once he saw the fire run along Moema's skin, but she did not cry out.
It had been said that firebenders who respected and understood the element would never be burned.
The ball of fire came towards him almost without warning, the heat of it warming his face. With a sharp crossing motion of his forearm, the flame dissipated before him. The last sparks disappeared and he saw the sisters side by side. Moema, for once, did not glare at him.
"Lu-Ten," she greeted snippingly but perhaps not so fiercely as she could've been. Lu-Ten wondered if Yaretzi had told her as well, if she confided in her older sister the way she confided in her mother. Of course she had. Yaretzi held secrets like a basket held water. Moema put her hands on her hips, adorned by a belt laden with charms and feathers.
"Moema," he reciprocated. He smiled and was surprised when the younger woman returned it. Moema had always seemed to find a way to vex him, the same way that Yaretzi had always been at his heel. "Tuwa told me to find you two, she figured you would be together. I thought you would still be at your house, Moema. When I passed by, your husband said you were gone already.”
"Yes," Moema wiped sweat from her brow. “Don’t look so jealous, Lu-Lu. Yaretzi stays on my heels, too," she grinned at her sister and brushed by Lu-Ten, her brown eyes pointedly meeting his own. He knew in that glance that Yaretzi had told her, as he had expected her to.
“Don’t call me Lu-Lu!” He waved his fist.
From above, Lu-Ten thought he heard a leathery snap and the rush of churning air. He looked up and in the corner of his eye he saw a flash of cerulean scales flicker through the tree canopy. The ground underneath his feet vibrated just as a massive roar came from above their heads.
Lu-Ten moved to cover his ears and turned to see his wife and her sister doing the same. Moema had crouched down beside Yaretzi, both of them scanning the tree line. He saw their lips moving in what could only be a silent prayer, perhaps to the gods or perhaps to the dragons.
Yaretzi snatched both of their hands and pulled them from the clearing, unaware of the undergrowth underneath her feet and the low hanging tree branches that raked across their bare arms. They spilled out of the clearing, into the open area before Tuwa's house. Lu-Ten saw that Tuwa and the neighbors had gathered as well with their faces turned skyward. A dark red blotch in the sky was rapidly approaching from the direction of the Twin Caves. Lu-Ten held his breath.
The great red spot began to take shape as it came closer, revealing a massive span of red wings that threw a shadow over the village-city. The beast had an elongated neck and an even longer body, ending with a tail that finished with a wickedly sharp spade. Its four legs were tucked close to its belly. Its wings flapped slowly, sending dust spinning around the ground. The dragon had no horns, only deep red whiskers that flickered as if tasting the air. Behind it came another dragon, this one donned in cerulean scales. It was smaller, but no less powerful. Its massive talons were also pulled close to its body, churning the air in time with its wings.
Lu-Ten thought he heard someone weeping.
"Ran and Shaw," Lu-Ten whispered and his wife nodded numbly. Ran and Shaw were among the oldest dragons and their size showed it. Each one had a wingspan nearly two hundred feet across and manes that billowed like clouds. They came from the Twin Caves, the dragon nest, where they had no enemies. They were the ultimate predators, Lu-Ten thought, and yet they were more than that. They were the original firebenders.
Ran and Shaw roared and from their gaping mouths came great plumes of multicolored flame. Their sinewy bodies wrapped around each other, combining until they seemed to be one entity, and then they broke apart once more. A wave of intense heat followed them. They danced once and then twice more, shaking the earth with each bellow.
Even if he saw the dragons a thousand times, he would never tire of the sight.
“Look at them," Yaretzi pointed fervently as the dragons flew over the village-city, close enough that their dark bellies could be seen scale over scale. Her brown eyes glittered, following Ran and Shaw until they were out of sight, a sudden calm falling over the village-city. The entire population appeared to be locked in the same stupor, awestruck by the fiery display. With Ran and Shaw would come the others, their offspring that were even more elusive than their parents.
Lu-Ten remembered his dream, remembered the blue dragon with the spear and the crown. He remembered what Tuwa had told him and what Yaretzi had told him. The emergence of the dragons was as clear an indication as any. And just as Lu-Ten of the Sun People knew that the sun would always rise, Lu-Ten knew he had to follow them.
Chapter 20: An Unfamiliar Sky
Chapter Text
Katara
Sokka had always been the one with the plans, Katara thought. He was the one with the great ideas that always fell through, and that had always irked her before. Katara had never realized how much she missed him until now. Sokka would know what to do. Sokka could solve anything.
The Kingdom of Banka-Kadi was wet. It rained nearly everyday, leaving the ground perpetually soggy and squelchy. According to Tan and Yuu, the pair that had dragged her out of the sea, the kingdom had been built around a fertile delta. Chikyu Bay was a estuary city that thrived off of the necessities that came with ocean trade and travel, serving as a natural mooring station for ships sailing in.
Unfortunately, she had learned, travel to the Southern Water Tribe was not possible. Due to its lackluster infrastructure and aging population, Chikyu Bay strictly accepted imports only. There was another city, they told her, that was much larger. Going to the south pole would be possible in that city. But, Tan had warned her, it was on the other side of the kingdom, across a swamp and then down the river.The capital of Banka-Kadi was built on canals, Yuu said, if she went in the right direction, she could not miss it.
She'd spent two nights on the floor of Tan and Yuu's home, and they had been gracious enough to supply her with food, clothing, and a decent pair of boots. Katara could give them nothing in return, except for her gratitude. She promised that she would reward them handsomely once she returned home.
The people of Banka-Kadi (at least of Chikyu Bay) were a kind, generous people. And they would never turn their backs on people who needed them.
Katara liked that about them.
She traveled along the shore at first until the bay veered inland to the marshy land of the delta and followed a clear river, the River of Reflection that flowed through all of Banka-Kadi. The first few days left her feet blistered and shins afire from the harsh pace she had set for herself. It was only after walking became painful did she admit that she needed to be more realistic. She healed her blisters with water from the river, tears of relief sliding out of her eyes. Camping also proved to be a challenge. Pitching a tent in swampland was frustrating, but she was the south and she was of snow and ice, and she would survive. After a few fruitless attempts she froze the earth and locked her tent poles into place with a triumphant smirk.
The road was soft underfoot, and occasionally it would disappear underneath a stream of water. When her legs grew tired she used her waterbending to skate and glide, twisting the water into ice and then back again. Other times Katara merely pushed the water aside with her bending and hoisted her pack higher on her shoulders and tried to imagine what the south would be like, whenever she returned.
Ruined.
Dead.
Her nights were plagued of her father and his last moments, morphing into the groping hands of Zhao and his crew. Katara dreamt of Yue, and felt a pang of regret at leaving the other girl behind that lingered even in her waking moments. Yue probably needed her. Sokka, if he was even still alive, needed her. And yet here she was on a lonely trail in a strange land, a Polar Bear Dog alone.
She heard them before she saw them.
It was the sound of a wagon rolling through the mud and dirt. The squelch of many boots in the mud came after and Katara paused, tightening her hold on her possessions. She knew of thieves and criminals- parts of the south had been full of them. Many people had flocked to IcePoint seeking her father’s aid. He had ridden out with his bloodsworn men to the remote villages and dealt with the marauders, returning triumphant every time. Though she could not discern how many souls were accompanying the wagon, she was not afraid. If they were merchants it would be all the better. If they were criminals then she could hold her own with all the water at her disposal. She ducked between a thicket of gnarled cypresses and nestled down until she could peer out at the travelers.
A small boy came around the bend first, pulling a gray and brown bovine animal along with a rope. The wagon was hitched to it and on the back, Katara saw enormous crates. The boy, sporting light brown hair cut neatly across straight the forehead, lifted his head. He had red paint streaked across his eyes, painfully reminding Katara of the last time she had seen her brother. His eyes scanned the area, landing briefly on her before swiveling on with a perturbed scowl.
“What’s up, Smells?” Katara saw another young man come around the cart. As they approached, she studied them. The second boy appeared to be of an age with Yue, with shaggy dark brown hair that fell upon his brows. He was tan skinned, not quite as dark as a Tribesman, and tall and slender. Handsome. She saw two slender, curved blades strapped to his back and she tensed, her jaw set. He walked with an ease in his gait that she had seen in the men of her Tribe, the movements of a man who could kill with ease. She sat back on her haunches. “You hear something?”
The other boy, the Smells, worked his jaw. “I thought I did,” Katara heard him say. “It must’ve been an animal or somethin’.” He smacked the bovine on the rear, spurring it on and the wagon began to make its way down the path once more. Katara shifted to get a better look as a third young man appeared. This one was paler with a square jaw and narrow eyes under a straw hat. The quiver and bow slung over his shoulder added bulk to his slender frame.
All of them, she thought incredulously, were teenagers. Were they farmers? Hooligans? She pushed a branch out of her face.
The arrow whizzed by her to land in the trunk of the tree behind her with a resounding thwack . Katara gasped and ducked as another struck right where she had been sitting. Through the branches she could see the archer reaching for another arrow in his quiver, notching it and drawing back the string on the bow. Just as he let it loose she pulled water from the river and raised a wall of ice. The arrowhead shattered as it made contact, buying Katara enough time to leap out of the bushes. The first boy yelled wordlessly and the taller one, obviously their leader, drew his swords.
He came at her with incredible speed, swinging the blades like sickles. She spun away, dropping low as her water whip threw the archer off of his feet. She clenched her fist and the water froze him there. With one arm outstretched, she flicked her fingers and the water knocked one off the boy’s swords from his hand. It landed in the mud. Katara dove for it, grasping the handle and bringing it up in a defensive gesture. She rolled into a crouch. “ Don’t come any closer.” She glowered at the youth.
Mouth agape, the group’s leader let his remaining sword fall to the ground. He let out a whistle of appreciation, clapping his hands together. “I’ll give it to you, girl, you’re good. Where’d you learn that at?” He raised his hand and the boy with the oxen returned to the scene of their scuffle. “Impressive.” He took a step towards her and despite herself, Katara took a tentative step back. Instantly he held up his hands in an indication of peace. “I’ll apologize. We heard you and thought you were…well. We’re traveling just like you.”
"You can't just approach girls on a dirt road, Jet," the boy with the rope with the oxen said and Katara realized that he was not a boy at all. As she drew closer, she saw that the young man's companion was a girl of similar age. "It's not right."
The boy, Jet, smiled easily and lopsidedly. It was disarming; the way his eyes twinkled and his dashing good looks were sure to catch people by surprise. “You’re right, Smells, it's not." He took another step forward, brushing a hand across his chest. "I'm Jet. And that's Smellerbee. The poor fellow you froze over there is Longshot. And you must be crazy to travel this road alone. There's brigands and 'nappers, and people like us."
Katara narrowed her eyes. "I'm not afraid."
Jet threw back his head and laughed. "You're not from around here, are ya, Water Tribe?"
It took her a moment to realize that he had called her Water Tribe as a name, and not her nationality. Katara wondered if it was so obvious. "I might be," she tried to match his nonchalant tone with one of her own. "Or I might not."
"That means no," the girl, Smellerbee, chimed in. "She really is a Water Tribe, just listen to how she talks." She patted the pack animal on the rump and it trotted a few steps. "I say we rob her."
Katara snapped her wrist and the water from the stream danced to her command once more. "I wanna see you try," she hissed and moved into a fighting stance.
Jet held his hands up once more in surrender. “Leave her alone, Smellerbee. She's a fiery one." He walked around Katara and she mirrored him, never allowing her back to be turned to him. "And smart."
He lunged and Katara brought the water into an arching whip, wrapping around the man's torso. She flexed her fingers and brought her arms up into a sweeping gesture, hurling the boy away from her. He hit the ground, hard, and was still.
Then Katara heard him laugh.
"Smellerbee," the boy shouted from where he lay, "I like her!"
Jet sprang to his feet and sauntered over with his forearm outstretched. He was taller than her, probably even a little taller than Sokka. She had to lift her head to glare at him. “Alright, Water Tribe, you've earned the respect of us heathens. It’s not every day you run into a girl who can fight like that. What's your name?"
She paused before she finally let the water fall into a puddle at her feet. "My name is Katara," she confessed. Princess Katara, daughter of Hakoda, former chief of the Southern Water Tribe and sister to Chief Sokka. It sounded odd, even in her mind. "Just Katara."
Jet rolled the name off his tongue and raised a dark brow at her. "Well, Katara, where are you headed? It's dangerous for little girls to travel these roads alone. By the looks of it, you look fresh off the boat."
Katara bristled at that, and saw Smellerbee looking at her curiously. "Something like that," she admitted. "I'm heading for...the capital.”
"Terusan," Jet nodded sagaciously. "That makes sense. A lot of sense. Lots of canals there, lots of waterbenders." He smiled, "we can take you. We're headed that way. It’ll be safer for you.”
Smellerbee made a face and Katara did not miss the sharp glance that the young man gave the girl. Undeterred, Smellerbee held up a finger, "We have to rejoin the others."
Jet sighed and gave an exasperated roll of his eyes. "You didn't let me finish," he said and turned back to Katara, "We're headed that way after we pick up the rest of our...group." He tapped her amicably on the shoulder, "trust me." He offered his hand. "Trust me."
After a moment of hesitation, or perhaps not, Katara wasn't so sure, she gripped his forearm in the Water Tribe salute. She most assuredly did not trust him, but it was safer to travel in numbers. There were other monsters that went bump in the night. Jet’s eyes roved over her through his dark bangs and he tossed out that wolfish grin. Katara didn’t find his stare nearly as violating as the firebenders. Some part of her deep in the lower part of her belly wanted him to keep looking at her like that.
She thawed Longshot, who with an indignant glare, salvaged his remaining arrows and deposited them back in his quiver. As they walked along the spongy trail, Jet explained to her who they were. They were a group who went along well-traveled roads and defended travelers from the less than savory types. They had no name and were sanctioned by no organization but were bound by a creed amongst themselves Jet explained. They had seen a problem and they had become the solution.
Jet and Smellerbee took turns guiding the ox. Everything about the two seemed rough around the edges, shaped by pasts that Katara was too afraid to ask about. Of themselves they offered very little and Katara did the same.
As the sun began to set over Banka-Kadi, Katara found herself thoroughly immersed in conversation with the two. They arrived to a clearing, yet when she looked up she saw an elaborate system of bridges and treehouses in the branches over the soggy earth of Banka-Kadi. It almost seemed to be a town of its own, a number of structures and guard towers that stretched at least half a mile. She gaped at the ingenuity of it all, a fortress held up only by taut ropes and haphazard beams. Sokka would lose his mind.
“What kinda business you got in Terusan?" Smellerbee came up beside her as she looked around in awe, walking with her hands shoved inside of her pockets. "Got a bone to pick with the Jade Throne?"
Katara shook her head. She concluded that the Jade Throne was the seat of the Banka-Kadi monarch from what she had heard Jet and Smellerbee say. "I heard that Terusan is on the route to the Southern Water Tribe," she divulged, "I have to get back home."
Smellerbee nodded and asked no more questions. Katara found that she could respect her for that.
Jet put his hands on both of his shoulders. His eyes searched the branches above them, scanning over the seemingly empty treehouses, and then he began to whistle. A long, shrill whistle that seemed to echo amongst the leaves.
The branches rattled and then without warning, another boy leaped down from one of the guard towers. A second, younger one followed by swinging from a rope like an acrobat, spinning effortlessly before landing in front of them, and lastly they were joined by a hulking third that shook the ground as he landed in a crouch. They approached the four of them, never looking away from Katara.
The second boy was a child, sporting a metal helm that balanced precariously over his head. He looked towards Jet and then again at her, and wrinkled his nose. "Who is that?"
He couldn't have been more than eight. Jet readjusted the boy's helmet and smiled, "Guys, this is Katara. She'll be traveling with us to Terusan. Katara, this is the Duke," he patted the boy's head, "the big guy is Pipsqueak, and our other archer Quicktwitch.” He pointed at the first boy, who had brown skin that suggested not-too distant Tribal ancestry. “If you want to keep the peace, don’t ask which one is a better shot.”
Longshot raised smoldering black eyes from under the wide brim of his hat and Smellerbee laughed. Quicktwitched snorted. “Only one of us has shot himself in the foot.” Katara looked to Jet for explanation, and finding none, she decided to smile.
The Duke, the little boy, came closer to appraise her. His tongue curled out like a pumpkin stem in concentration. At last, he nodded and grinned, revealing a missing tooth. "She's good people," he declared. "I can tell."
Jet chuckled and looked endearingly down at the younger boy. “If she has your approval, Duke, then she’s alright with me.” He tugged on Katara’s arm. “Follow me. We’re settling down here for the next couple of days so we gotta find you some accommodations.” He led to the tree that appeared to be the heart of the setup, an absolutely gargantuan redwood that was so broad it would take twelve men holding hands to wrap around it. Steps had been nailed into the bole of the tree, leading to a platform where rickety bridges branched off to the other treehouses and watch towers. Jet ascended the tree, one hand after the other, hands and feet grasping for purchase on the wood steps and footholds. Katara followed him, looking back down midway of the tree.
The biggest of the boys, Pipsqueak, was unloading the crates from the wagon. Smellerbee set them on a sheet of wood that was hitched to two ropes. At her signal, Quicktwitch yanked hard on one side of the rope and the crates shot up into the trees.
Jet was waiting for her when she finished the climb. “Can you believe we built all of this? And our other base near Mo-pet, that one is even bigger.” Katara found herself without words. The young man walked to one of the bridges that stretched across the clearing below, taking her hand in his callused one. She flushed. If Jet noticed then he was gracious enough to pretend he hadn’t. He held her steady as they crossed the swaying bridge, his long legs practiced and sure. They arrived at a structure whose conical roof burst through the top of the forest canopy. Jet pushed a tattered curtain aside.
It was a room, empty save for a large futon and scattered blankets in one corner and a stack of crates not unlike those from the wagon in another. An unlit lantern sat on the floor next to the futon. Wordlessly Jet stepped inside. “This is where I sleep. I can have Smellerbee set you up with a sleeping bag and blanket.” It was a statement more than a question, disregarding the propriety of the arrangement. He said it in a way that made Katara feel as though she could not refuse, even if she wanted to. He trotted over to one of the crates and pried it open, yanking the lid up and off.
Katara drew closer and gasped.
Nestled in a bed of cloth and straw was a number of gemstones. Some were rough, but most were cut and polished. She saw jade green and milky pink, a pale yellow like a weak sunrise. One was a sapphire blue, large enough to fill her palm. Within the gemstone she could see bubbles of water. Jet reached for it and held it closer so she could study it. “It matches your eyes,” his voice was low, “not often do you stumble upon something so beautiful…we recovered these from a band of robbers a few weeks ago. We’re headed to Terusan so the Jade Throne can return them to the rightful owners.” He pressed the sapphire in her hand. “But not this one. This one is yours. They call it a sapphire enhydro.”
Katara ran a finger over the stone, her thoughts incoherent. It glittered slightly in the dying daylight and she could feel the moisture trapped within it. She wondered who would've been foolish enough to travel with such valuable materials on their own.
She twitched her fingers and the water came to the surface of the stone. She flicked it away and placed the stone in her satchel, looking back at Jet. She had no usable currency in Banka-Kadi, but perhaps it would serve. He was watching her, his eyes flickering over her face and her lips and then locking her in his stare. “Come on,” he tugged on her wrist, “let’s go eat.”
Down in the clearing, all of the teenagers and children huddled close near the fire, laughing and sharing pointed jokes that Katara had no part of. Quicktwitch and Pipsqueak were resourceful cooks, throwing together an herbaceous vegetable soup that left Katara’s belly warm and full. Smellerbee and Longshot sat next to each other on the other side of the fire and the Duke, the little boy, laid his head in the girl's lap. Quicktwitch sat cross legged on a log, plucking at the strings of a mandolin.
"So," Jet began for her ears alone, sitting close enough to her that she could feel his warmth radiating from his skin, "who are you, really? No fresh off the boat waterbender goes to Terusan this way." He looked down at her, his dark eyes reflecting the orange light from the flames. "Who are you?"
"I'm Katara," she reaffirmed, keeping her tone light yet final. "And I told you that I have to get back home." She watched the fire crackle and dance. "That's all. I have to get back home, they need me. I need them."
Jet nodded solemnly. "These guys are my family," he said quietly, "at least the closest thing to it." He looked up at the night sky through the trees. Katara watched him. "They're all I have left."
"I know," she sighed, thinking of Sokka. Thinking of Bato and Gran-Gran, and the village of orphans over the hill. She rubbed her eyes, feeling them begin to sting. "Spirits, I know."
Katara became aware of the creek behind him, whispering in her ears, and the warmth radiating from the fire. The earth underneath her palms was damp. Above her head, the thin sliver of the moon was beginning to shine through the trees.
“You don't have to tell me now," Jet prompted her to rise, bidding goodnight to the onlookers. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Another day." He smiled. "Alright? Now let’s get some shut eye. We’ve got some repairs to work on and I’m sure we can put that waterbending of yours to use.”
“Okay," Katara acquiesced. And then Jet pushed himself to his feet, his twin blades glinting in the firelight. She crossed the rickety causeway to the treehouse in front of him, acutely aware of his fingers in the small of her back, burning, burning.
Jet wasted no time, closing the curtain behind him and descending on her with a speed and urgency that caught her unprepared. He kissed her hungrily, callused hands on her cheeks and her neck. He tossed his swords somewhere to the corner of the room. With his body (so much taller, so much stronger) he pressed her further into the room. Katara gasped for breath. (She had kissed boys before, one of Sokka’s friends although she knew her brother would go on a rampage if he found out, but not like this. Not like this.) Jet spun her dizzily until her back was to the doorway, his hands now on her wrists and her shoulders, grinning against her lips.
His touch awakened something in her that was burning and urgent, that had laid dormant until that moment. She came at him just as strongly. She pressed against him, his thumbs digging hard into her hips as he pulled her down until she was nearly sitting in his lap on the futon with the worn out blankets. His knees were drawn up, holding her in place as his rough hands passed over her ribs again and again, fingertips slipping under her bindings and loosening them just so. Katara held his face between her hands, propped up on her knees in his lap. Unable to breathe, Katara felt her spine pressed against the futon as Jet rolled her underneath him, one knee pushing her own legs apart. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back, stretching her neck to break his hold on her lips.
“Wait!” She gasped out and Jet froze, the weight of his hips pinning her own. “I…I…”
Jet sat up, panting. His chest heaved and she saw that his shirt was already halfway undone. His face was flushed. “You don’t want to,” he said for her and she could only give a mousy nod. “You don’t want to.” The words were not accusatory nor was there any anger in his tone, but Katara winced all the same. Part of her had wanted to, but she was a princess and princesses did not… Jet settled beside her on the futon, sightlessly staring at the ceiling. He reached for her hand and Katara let him take it. “You don’t need to apologize and you don’t need to explain yourself.”
She breathed a tiny sigh of relief.
In the dark she could feel him studying her. From the crack of the curtain she could see the endless forests of Banka-Kadi and the stars of a land that was not her own. "Goodnight." She whispered and stared at that foreign sky, holding the hand of that strange boy, and when a pesky tear threatened to spill over, she wiped it away.
She would be in Terusan soon, and then she would be home.
“Goodnight,” Jet mumbled through her hair, having turned onto his side with his arm thrown around her. She waited for him to go on, but he did not. Katara closed her eyes, still holding his hand, and dreamt of snowflakes kissing her cheeks.
Chapter 21: The Girl
Chapter Text
Hahn
Squid trudged ahead of him, face obscured by the long scarf wounded around his head and neck until only his eyes were visible. Hahn saw that his eyes were half closed, catching the snowflakes on his long lashes, and Hahn could hear him singing off key to himself. Hahn figured that he had never known someone to be so odd.
And stupid.
"This snow is probably spirit tears," Hahn snapped and bundled his parka closer to his body. The Far North was unbelievably, ridiculously cold. He shivered and stuck his hands deeper into his pockets, wondering how the polar dogs were able to traverse so easily through the shin-high snow. "Either tears, or piss. Either way I wouldn't let it get in my mouth, if I were you." He narrowed his eyes, trying to see the others through the flying snow ahead of them. "Hurry up before we get left behind. No one wants to hear your screeching.”
Squid looked back at him and Hahn could see the crinkling of his eyes that suggested he was smiling. "It's just snow," he quipped, quickening his stride. Hahn followed and caught up with the boy, ignoring the warning growl of one of the polar dogs. It was the personal pet of the Chief Commander, just as ornery as his master and twice as likely to bite. Hahn cursed as he looked past the boy, seeing the Chief Commander turning to wait for them.
Squid, you bastard, now I’m not going to hear the end of it!
It was their second expedition, and they were venturing beyond the white forest where they had harvested the ice blocks. The trek was not as unsettling as their first voyage, though Hahn kept his eyes to the tree line out of fear of seeing spirit girls watching him. Instead he saw only arctic cat owls, their large yellow eyes following them as they trekked on. One of the older men had brought a sled and was dragging it behind him, hauling blocks of ice. Another was at his heels, though this sled had yet to be filled. Hahn wasn't sure why everyone was so fascinated with the ice from the Far North, and why they sent it back over the Ice Wall. He didn't really care, either.
"Keep up," the Chief Commander growled as they rejoined the main group. "If you get lost in this snow, you'll never get out. A foul-thing will get to you if you don't freeze first." He waited until they were at his side and then he trudged onward, his boots leaving deep imprints that were covered quickly by the falling snow. His dog loped after him, snapping at the heels of the unfortunate soul who dared lag behind.
Hahn sighed, watching his breath escape in thin white tendrils. He wondered if his mother and father had received the letter he had sent them several days prior. In it, he had told them of his first adventures and of all the perils that lurked behind the Wall. He wrote of the bitter cold that dug its fingers in your chest and threatened to tear out your lungs. He wrote of the blistering winds that tore at your eyes He told them that he wanted to be nowhere else but at the Wall.
Hahn had lied.
It was all for the best, he thought. When he returned home, Hasook and Nilu would be the first ones to pat him on the back. No one would call him the "third son". He was the one who went up to the Far North with murderers and rapists and thieves and held his own against him. He had even befriended someone who committed patricide. “Befriended” was used very loosely. Squid had claimed Hahn as his own, in a sense, and while small, the boy’s presence seemed to invoke fear in even some of the more seasoned criminals. Hahn had heard whispers that Squid had choked one man and disemboweled another but he dared not ask. Squid was annoying and weird and extremely too happy for someone sentenced to live a life imprisoned on a wall of ice, but Hahn preferred to stay on his good side.
Up ahead, Hahn heard the polar dogs baying. One of the men handling them shouted and Hahn looked towards the Chief Commander. The Chief Commander looked back at them and Hahn figured that normal people would've spoken or smiled, but the chief's nephew hated him.
The dogs growled again and the commander took off in a jog towards the front of the line, unaffected by the snow that threatened to swallow him. Hahn threw a glance at Squid and then went after him, stumbling through the snow until he found his footing. It wasn't like running through the city, where the snow was packed hard and flat and never higher than his ankle. One of the older men claimed that storms would dump precipitation that could come chest height. They had found bodies of unlucky souls who had lost their footing in a blizzard. He went down face first and threw out his hands, using his weight to right himself.
The other men had stopped up ahead, the snow whipping around them. The dogs strained against their leashes, snapping and snarling. Hahn craned his neck to see the cause of their aggression and his breath hitched.
Up in front of them was an area encircled by massive trees. The snow seemed to blow around the area, but never through it. The deep green of it was a stark contrast to the snow and ice, and it took Hahn a moment to realize that it was glowing.
The circle of trees was glowing.
One of the men called out for the spirits to protect them. The Chief Commander was grim. He pulled off one of his mittens and paced the clearing, the glow of the Northern Lights washing out his dark skin. No other man dared approach. He seemed impossibly small underneath those ice-less trees, their branches crooked and growing together until their dark leaves wove an impenetrable tapestry. Hahn watched as the older man touched the amulet on his throat and then held his bare hand to the sky.
The yellow-green light of the crackling aurora lapped greedily at the Chief Command’s outstretched hand. Hahn could see the light passing through his skin. He found himself muttering prayers. Hahn had never been a pious man, but being in a land of foul-things and supernatural phenomena seemed like a good place to start. The light illuminated the man from within, his muscles and skeleton suddenly visible. Squid, somewhere off to the side, was whimpering.
“I don’t like this, Three!”
The Chief’s nephew tore his hand away. The light splintered away from him. He jolted, as if he had been struck, and turned back to his men. His gray eyes were bloodshot and his face haggard, but all the same he brandished the opalescent amulet for their eyes to see. “This,” his voice was thick, “is what the ice does. With this amulet, the foul-things cannot touch me.” He swayed and one of the lieutenants rushed to support him until the Chief Commander batted him away. “If…if you have any love or loyalty to your nation, then you will harvest it with me.”
Hahn felt himself reeling. Squid propped him upright, his slight frame shivering. He wasn’t sure if he could truly comprehend what he had just witnessed, and judging by the bewildered and petrified looks of the other men, his sentiments were not out of place. There were so many questions and too few answers. The Chief Commander stared at them all, silently imploring them to understand his cause. The implications were horrific. With a creeping dread, Hahn pieced together the man’s words.
The ice from the Land of the Ice that Never Melts repelled spirits and foul-things.
Their excursions were to harvest ice and ship it back to the capital.
Hahn’s stomach churned. For the Chief Commander to be so adamant about their mission, then he wholeheartedly believed that the foul-things posed a threat to their Tribe. Or maybe he didn’t just believe. Maybe he knew. Hahn swallowed the bile in his throat.
“I swear it on my life, Tonraq, since I have no honor. I will join you in this endeavor.” One of the older men said, a gray beard whose left jaw had been broken and healed wrong. He put his forearm across his chest. “Today and for all the days that follow.”
A few other men echoed his declaration, dipping their heads to the Chief Commander, Tonraq. Squid joined their number, his tenor voice high above the others but no less genuine. He was just as honor-less as the rest of them but Tonraq accepted their oaths with solemnity. Hahn could see the royal blood in his veins at that moment. He had the natural predilection to inspire fealty even amongst the scum of the Tribe, the same way that his ancestors had convinced the ancient clans to come together.
The Chief Commander replaced his mitten and ordered the men to circumvent the clearing on their way deeper into the Far North. Hahn steered clear, eying the snowless clearing wearily. The aurora cast everything in its gentle, ethereal glow. Hahn could feel its inherent power humming through his blow, calling out to the more primal parts of him that existed in all those born of the Water Tribes. Their ancestors had mingled with the spirits of the snow and the ice; a Tribesman never strayed too far from the poles. He focused instead on the crunch of snow under his boots and the heavy breathing of those surrounding him.
Squid was unusually quiet and pensive, lost in his own thoughts. Hahn debated on speaking to him and then thought better of it when he remembered Squid’s temper. Fortunately he had never been the recipient of the boy’s flaring anger but he had seen more than a few broken noses and scurrying feet. Despite being so little and jovial, the boy had a nasty set of hands.
Once more they were falling behind until even Tonraq’s ghastly black dog left them in peace, bounding across the snow to rejoin his beloved master. A wolf howled from within the hills. Hahn pulled his parka closer. Under his furs the hairs on his arms rose. A deep sense of foreboding came over him.
The howling grew closer.
Hahn reached for Squid, rotating his head to assess the area. Squid did the same, letting out a squeak of fear. His eyes were focused on a snow mound.
Squid reached for his sleeve and Hahn jerked away. Squid grabbed for it again, "Three," his voice rattled, "look. It's the girl we saw, the spirit. Look!"
Hahn traced the line of his gaze and hoped his eyes were deceiving him. Squid was right. Crawling steadily through the snow was the transparent girl from their previous venture, her unsettling eyes boring into Hahn's. She crept on all fours, like a predator. The howling wolves drew closer yet remained unseen, seeming to come from every angle. Hahn cursed loudly, shivering at the cold sweat that dug its fingers into his spine. Squid clung to him
“She's not stopping, Three," Squid said and tugged him backwards. "She's not gonna stop." Hahn looked down and saw the other boy's eyes had doubled in size. "Three."
The transparent girl paused and threw back her head, as if scenting the air. Hahn took the moment to turn on his heel and ran towards the group, dragging Squid along with him. "Come on, stupid!" Hahn snapped and the other boy shook himself from his stupor.
They ran.
The foul-thing lunged.
In that moment, that crucial, achingly slow moment, Hahn's mind was moving faster than his feet. In that moment, he felt the snow under his feet give way. He felt his body being pitched forward and down, felt Squid toppling over him and saw the Chief Commander’s polar dog bolting towards them. Too slow, too slow. A sudden burst of snow obscured him from view.
Hahn tumbled and rolled, limbs tangled with Squid's. Hahn no longer felt the snow and the cold. He had somehow transcended all feeling, his thoughts strangely muted, his limbs simultaneously heavy and feather light.
Hahn closed his eyes.
When he opened them, the first thing he noticed was the absence of snow. The ground beneath him was hard packed dirt and grass, much like the clearing they had passed. A faint golden glow seemed to emanate from the ground, perhaps from the air itself. Hahn saw, no -felt- it pulse. It vibrated along his skin, even through his parka, and though Hahn was confused, he found that he was not afraid.
The whole thing seemed ethereal. Hahn had no doubt that he had somehow entered the Spirit World, though he had no idea how, or why. None of these things seemed to matter, though. He felt at peace. His mind was flighty, but not panicked.
Squid was face down several feet away from him. The hood of his parka had flown off, revealing his dark braid. As Hahn watched him, he began to stir. He lifted his head, groaning, and turned his head in Hahn's direction. His eyes were not quite open as he stretched out one hand tentatively. Hahn, despite himself, leaned down and allowed Squid to touch his wrist.
“I'm here," he reassured him, "but I don't know where here is."
Squid opened his eyes, which flickered over the terrain. "I think we're in the Spirit World, Three," he said and smiled as he sat up, releasing Hahn's hand.
Hahn rolled his eyes. "I never would've guessed." He rubbed his temples. The last thing he had remembered was that eternal second of stumbling and falling. "But why? And how do we get out?" The Chief Commander would find some way to jump down his throat when they returned, he knew it.
"Well, I don't see a door," Squid jested and Hahn narrowed his eyes. The other boy rolled his shoulders in a shrug, grinning cheekily. Hahn wondered how he could be so at ease, especially when they were no longer in the mortal realm.
Pushing himself to his feet, Hahn set his weight back on his heels. They appeared to be alone. The trees rustled quietly behind him, as though they were shaking off a chill.
"The girl," Hahn mused aloud. "The girl did this."
Squid brushed himself off. "Probably. Maybe we should find her."
"Or we could focus on finding a way out of here." Hahn argued and took a few steps forward, testing the earth with the toe of his boot. The ground heaved and pulsed against his heel, its glow brightening as his weight settled on it.
Warmth seeped into his skin and Hahn felt himself giving into it, felt silken hands slide across his cheeks and cup them, felt the gentle touch of a thumb brushing his lip. A siren song pulled him in.
Hahn felt the warmth coiling around him, drawing him inward to its core. The outside world faded, the glow of the air dimmed and he began to give in-
"This one," a voice hissed, "is disappointingly easy."
Hahn opened his eyes, though he did not remember closing them. He felt a gentle pressure and when he looked down at his body, he saw a massive mahogany scaled body wrapped around his, its form nearly melded into his. On his shoulder was the chin of a girl with translucent skin and colorless eyes boring into his.
He screamed.
A hand flew up to slap across his mouth. It was a dark skinned hand, with rounded nails and a few calluses. Hahn felt another wrap around his ankle and yet another close around the back of his neck.
The scaled body shifted and Hahn saw the girl before him now, instead of behind him. The top half of her was human, clad in a pure white anorak. The bottom half, Hahn realized with horror, was that of a massive serpent. She had six pairs of hands, each of them ranging in skin color. A foul-thing, truly.
"This one does not like my true form," the girl sang, "but then again, they never do." She slithered backward and waved her hand, gesturing to herself. "This one is confused."
Hahn swallowed. "I reckon I am."
The girl hissed and Hahn realized she was laughing. "I am Piqatok," she said, "a messenger for the higher spirits. In my free time, I also like to consume wayward men." She slid around him. "I have two things to give this one." Her eyes went over his shoulder and with the slightest turn of his head, Hahn saw Squid standing transfixed, his hands at his sides. "Perhaps three."
Piqatok's body coiled. "You Tribespeople have been collecting the ice of the North, but no amount of charms can stop the inevitable." Her six hands brushed over Hahn's face. "There will be no Divide."
The way she said it seemed to demand a capital letter, something to separate it from a mere, simple divide. No, Hahn thought, this was the Divide. He did not know what it meant, but he knew it was something beyond him. He knew it was something inherently important.
"This one will run and tell his Chief Commander," Piqatok hissed, the words slithering off her tongue. "And this one will learn that the moon and sun will fall into discord, and then the realms will be open. This one will learn that the gods do not like what is happening in this realm.”
Hahn shivered. He looked back at Squid and then Piqatok, the translucent girl, the devourer of wayward men, threw back her pale head. Her body convulsed and a skull-ringing scream rose up from her throat, the force of it ringing through him. It coursed through the very core of his being and Hahn felt himself coming apart at the edges, dissipating into the warming air.
The ground underfoot became snow. Hahn felt it soaking into the knees of his pants, freezing his hands. He pressed his forehead into the cold and retched.
“Guess we didn't need a door," Squid said, standing. He did not seem visibly shaken, except for his eyes, which never lingered in one place for too long. Their pale, earthy blue irises were watery. He knelt and hauled Hahn to his feet. "At least she didn't eat us. She wanted to, though."
Hahn let out a breath. "I don't know what just happened."
Squid squinted and then he began to walk. Hahn wasn't sure if he knew where he was going, but he followed. The boy was entirely too calm, the type of calm that only came from trauma, a gut deep type of dissociation. "Aye, well, a foul-thing pulled us into the Spirit World. And then she made you into a little page." He rubbed his hands together and blew into them as he walked.
"She only said two things, though," Hahn note as he followed, content to be behind for once. "She promised three."
At that, Squid laughed. It was an odd sort of laugh, a desperate pushing of breath that was less humor and more relief. "Well," his voice was light, forcibly airy, "I reckon you didn't wanna hear the third."
Chapter 22: A Long Line of Losers
Chapter Text
Yue
The siblings had tutors who happened to be twins, though Yue struggled to tell them apart. They were both old, saggy, gray-haired women, with scratchy voices and a tendency to complete the other's sentences.
Yue crossed her legs and put her hands in her lap, sitting on the bench. They were in one of the queen's gardens, with trees weighed down by large, sweet smelling fruit. A cobblestone path had been paved through the center, and Yue heard the gurgle of koi fish in a pool.
"This Fire Lord enacted the Law of Just Trial," said Lo, one of the tutors. Or perhaps it was Li, Yue wasn't sure. "This was done to ensure that false imprisonment and mock trials would no longer be so widespread. He was also a champion of Agni Kai."
Azula waved a hand in disgust. "That's basic memorization, Lo, that's something I've known since I was four years old. The answer is Sozin the Fourth."
Yue watched. She had learned that Azula and Zuko had long passed their primary lessons, and now studied things such as foreign etiquette and law, things that would prepare them for ruling. The lessons reminded Yue of her own home, where she learned much of the same thing. Zuko seemed to excelled at history, his eyes lighting up during the lessons. The Crown Prince was more docile then his haughty sister.
"Yes," said Lo, "You are correct,"
"However," said Li, "you are no longer four years old and this is no longer basic memorization. Sozin the Fourth was Fire Lord during the Rice Rebellion as well."
Zuko perked up. He had been sitting quietly across from Yue, his writing tablet and studying scrolls beside him.
The Fire Nation's Crown Prince was a soft spoken boy. Yue figured that Azula was quiet, too, but it was a different sort. Azula seemed to constantly lie in wait, a hunter waiting for the opportune moment while Zuko seemed more like a gentle stream.
"That was the first time war-time laws became commonplace," Zuko noted. "Though it was an internal conflict. That included sedition acts after a number of high ranking nobles were found guilty of participating. Later, Iroh the Traitor would be charged of inciting unrest and rebellion."
Li, or perhaps Lo, nodded. "Charged posthumously, yes. Perhaps our question today is not one of logic, or rather the separation of law from emotion. Let us delve deeper into the matter with Iroh the Traitor and your illustrious father. Perhaps you were in the Phoenix King's position and your family has just been discovered to be in the process of undoing the world's politics- undoubtedly a death sentence. Is blood above the law?"
Yue considered it, though she was not a pupil. She tried to picture a situation in which Kuruk would do something so extreme and found that she could not. She could not imagine harming her brother. Blood was blood, she thought, and killing family was against the law.
The Fire Nation siblings both uttered scoffs of indignity. "Our family hasn't risen so high without cutting off the wilting flowers," Azula said, examining her nails. "This is a high stakes game, and sometimes you have to get rid of the players," she and Zuko exchanged pointed looks, "whether they are family or not."
That was the difference between fire and water, Yue thought. Flames consumed without discrimination- the Fire Nation raged without restraint. They were all players in the high stakes game.
Hakoda, Yue realized, had simply been the next in a long line of losers. The idea of it made her feel ill, knowing she was trapped among them, halfway across the world away from her home. Azula and Zuko were the children of a man who had murdered his own brother and torn apart another royal dynasty out of his own insatiable greed. She couldn't forget that. It ran thick in their blood, hidden behind masks of propriety and honor.
Yue laced her fingers together and watched.
Her dinner was spent in her room, as it had been for the last few days,staring out of her window at the garden with Tui at her feet. The polar dog was restless, yipping for Yue's attention and winding in anxious circles around Yue's legs. She was tended to by servants when Yue was occupied during the day and had grown considerably since Yue had gotten her, no longer the tiny white pup that Yue could carry in her arms. She came nearly to the princess’s thigh. They had trimmed her fur close to her body to alleviate her stress from the heat save for the plume of her tail.
The sun was setting, throwing long shadows in the cool-colored garden outside of her window. Yue watched the shadows and tried to decipher shapes. The tree with dark purple leaves had a shadow that resembled an umbrella.
Yue set all her dinner utensils together and slid them underneath the door. Fire Nation food was too hot, leaving her mouth feeling scorched. The pain had been soothed by a piece of fruit and Yue figured that there was at least one person who understood her pain.
Being a hostage was a boring affair.
She found that she lived for the moments outside of the confines of her room, when Azula or Zuko fetched her to go with them. On occasion their mother the Phoenix Queen would invite her to join the ladies of the court for a cup of tea or a light mid morning meal. Yue was fully aware that she was a prisoner, no matter how lavish her cell was. She was allowed finery and luxury, but her manacles were bangles and necklaces. There were times where she would have preferred metal chains and rope.
Perhaps in a moment that was neither clarity nor insanity, Yue decided she would push the boundaries of her confinement. Clipping Tui's leash, she pushed herself up from the table. She went and cracked the door open, peeking out. The hall was empty.
Yue wondered what was the worst they could do to her for slipping out of her room. They couldn't kill her, Yue knew that she was too valuable for that.
The polar dog's claws clattered on the tiled floor as she bucked out of the room, dragging Yue after her. Yue stifled a yelp, pulling hard on the leash. The dog strained against her and Yue heard someone clear their throat. She looked up.
A wide-eyed servant stood before her, holding an empty tray with which she was going to collect Yue's plates. "Do you need something, Princess?" She asked, one brow raised. "Do you need to find something, perhaps? Surely I can fetch it for you?”
Yue straightened her stance and forced a smile in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. "I...I just wanted to find a library or something similar, to pass the time. I know the hour is quite late but..." She found her footing, "It gets quite boring in my room and I figured that it wouldn't be against the rules. Surely the Phoenix King wouldn’t want his royal guest to be illiterate, yes?”
The servant set the tray down, her eyes never straying far from Yue's. "It isn't against any rules. I'll take you." She reached behind Yue and pulled the door closed. "There's only one library, however, and if the Phoenix King has restricted the area then I'm afraid you won't be able to go in." She looked down at the polar dog. "Please keep your animal restrained."
"Of course." Yue nodded. The servant led her down the hall, looking back at her every few steps. The corridors of the inner sanctum were dim, lit by lamps that had been maintained by firebenders. Yue watched the long shadows they cast as they walked.
After turning several mind-boggling corners, the servant stopped before a large door. Dragons and the Fire Nation's flame had once been engraved in the dark wood, flecked with silver and gold. The hall around it was brightly lit and Yue could see more light streaming from underneath the door.
The servant pulled the door open and stepped aside. Yue nodded in gratitude and walked in, catching the intense smell of incense. It smelled of jasmine and cinnamon, and she could see tendrils of smoke drifting up to the ceiling from the sticks of incense nestled in holders cut into the walls.
The library was huge, dwarfing the size of Yue’s generous suite. There were tables with lamps on them, and shelves crammed with tomes and scrolls as far as the eye could see. Yue let out a tiny gasp. It had been a long time since she had seen so many books. There were tomes in the North that had been written on sealskin and bound with twine, and bound books of parchment written in the ancestral symbols and runes. Yue doubted the Fire Nation had any such thing. Their history certainly could not be as ancient.
Stepping inside, Yue went to a shelf. She ran her fingertips along the books and scrolls, finding that some titles had been written in a script that she could not read. Well, perhaps she had been wrong. She picked another scroll up, cradling it close, and unrolled it. Its aged scent permeated her nostrils. The language was something that she could not decipher, but there were elaborate pictures of people dancing.
"Princess Yue."
The Northern princess spun on her heels and put the scroll behind her back. Tui bared her teeth. To her surprise, there was a man sitting at the table closest to her, clad in a rich silk red and gold vest and pants. His black hair spilled over his powerful shoulders, brushed until it ran down his back like water. His features were sharp enough to cut through her façade. Save for his goatee, he was clean shaven. His golden eyes, like Azula’s and Zuko’s, watched her curiously, his hands steepled underneath his chin.
"My lord," she said to the Phoenix King and threw herself into a deep bow. "Please forgive me."
The Phoenix King gave a miniscule nod of acknowledgement. He had a set of scrolls around him where he sat, and the lamp at his table was flaring brightly. Yue watched as he stood and walked towards her, her heart skipping a beat. He towered over her before he knelt and took Tui, her polar dog, into his arms effortlessly. He turned the pup around, his large hands stroking the white fur. The dog squirmed to escape his grasp, but he had pinned her front and hind legs together with his arms. She tossed her head, yapping and snarling in turns. “A fine animal you have here. Very well bred.” Yue could hear Tui whimper. "Did you train it yourself?"
Yue shook her head vigorously. "The...princess of the Southern Water Tribe did, my lord. The whole family excelled in dog training. They had kennels to house them and they bred dogs for sport and for work." She remembered Aga and Amarok, and Tui’s littermate Desna. Yue set the scroll down on the shelf behind her and laced her hands together. "Before they..." Before you killed them.
The Phoenix King set the dog down with a gentleness that Yue had not expected. "The Southerners are a primitive people, but good at what skills they have. Their supplies of iron ore are incomparable and have always been.” It was how the South Pole has made itself rich, Yue knew. “They're very protective of their resources, but now they will finally be shared." He rose and met Yue's gaze before looking at her hair swept into a Northern style with her comb. She thought she saw disgust in his eyes and Yue felt the tips of her ears begin to burn under his scrutiny. His eyes scanned the rest of her before settling elsewhere. "The North and South are both very spiritually abundant."
Yue wasn't sure if it was a question, so she remained silent.
He reached behind her and withdrew the scroll that she had been holding, obviously having seen her tuck it away. He looked at the words, and then back at her, before rolling the parchment neatly. "It’s a firebending kata, an ancient one derived from the indigenous populations of the archipelago. The Fire Sages are the only ones who practice it. Mostly because they are the only ones able to read it.” He snorted derisively and set the paper on the table with his other scrolls. “Your father has yet to agree to my demands," he articulated, stepping closer until she could feel the heat of his body rolling off of him. "How might we amend that?"
She shook her head and suddenly the Phoenix King was tilting her chin up, his fingertips rough and hot against her skin. She struggled to tear her face away, only for the man to pinch her skin harder and she was certain that if he pressed any harder then she would have bruises. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Answer me," the Phoenix King growled. "Crying is for the weak."
"I don't know," Yue whispered and then forced her tears away. A princess takes dignity in all things, she thought. "I don't know, my lord." She said and hoped she sounded stronger than she felt.
The Phoenix King gave a terse nod and released her jaw. He returned to his table and indicated for her to join him. Ozai slid easily back into the relaxed position he had held when Yue stumbled upon him. Squaring her shoulders, Yue sat across from him. She was not afraid. She was not afraid. She could handle him, she could handle the whole family.
He pushed a scroll under her nose. Yue studied it, her eyes squinting in order to decipher the faded characters. It was something about gods, she gathered, and the veil between the physical world and the spiritual one. Ozai had not struck her as a particularly religious man. He leaned back into his seat. “You've been touched by a spirit," he said when she lifted her head, "you've felt their power. They can give life and take it away. They can create worlds and destroy them. You know this. They are the ones that deemed you worthy of this world.”
Yue nodded.
"For a spirit to have the ability to raise a stillborn from the dead suggests something much deeper than mortal imaginings. Which leads me to believe that the North and South both harbor something very powerful. Something that has the power of the gods or a portal of some sort. A power that can be harvested and used for greater purposes. And I intend to find it.” Ozai’s teeth flashed. “I offered the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe treasure, increasing the sum with each missive sent. I proposed economic agreements that only a fool would refuse, and each and every time he denied me. No one will defy me,” the man’s upper lip curled but calmed just as quickly, "I do not intend to cause unnecessary strife, but I imagine that you understand what it is like to be on the wrong side of history."
Yue drew back in her chair, her stomach plummeting downward. She swallowed and lifted her head, meeting the penetrating gaze of the Phoenix King. This was a man who knew no boundaries, she decided. A man who had killed his own family. A man who had ordered the decimation of the South all for the search of something that might not even exist.
They sat in that warm, stifling silence for a moment. Yue willed herself to not look away- she would not allow him to see her fear. The wrong side of history. Her family was on the wrong side- the next in a long line of losers. She held the Phoenix King's gaze and lifted her chin just so. She was royalty, too, she wanted to remind him, and her people would not fall easily.
Ozai unfurled a piece of parchment and laid it before her, along with a pen. Yue saw it was a letter. "This is the letter you will send to the chieftain. Sign it."
Yue quickly scanned the contents. It was written as if she had done so, explaining that she was terribly upset about the tragedy of the south, but the Fire Nation was most kind to her. The text compelled her father to give consideration to the Phoenix King’s requests. “Father," the letter read, "it would be most advantageous to meet the Phoenix King's demands. Both for my sake and the Tribe's."
The letter was a threat, though it held no points for subtlety. The only thing it was missing was bloodstains for good measure. Yue lifted the pen and then set it back down with resolve. Absolutely not , she thought, Katara wouldn’t sign this. Sokka wouldn’t either. Chief Hakoda had died in defiance. Yue glanced back at Ozai, seeing his calm demeanor slowly begin to fray at the edges. She could see it in his eyes, the way his brows had furrowed.
There it was. The expression of a man that had killed his brother and tried to slaughter a toddler in his crib. Ozai could put on his airs with his crowns and riches and robes, but no amount of finery would conceal the true man underneath. Yue willed herself not to falter.
Ozai glared at her and the fires of the lamps nearly licked the ceiling of the library. “You will sign it.”
Or the North would will burn went unspoken.
Yue reached for the pen and pressed the tip onto the parchment, watching as the ink seeped out. At the bottom of the page she carefully etched her name, clan, and title: Yue, Firstborn Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. She pushed the letter back at the man and crossed her legs.
"It's done," Yue yielded, pulling Tui back to her. It's done. Not quite, she thought, it hasn't even started yet.
Chapter 23: Terusan
Chapter Text
Katara
All canals in Banka-Kadi led to Terusan.
Katara walked between Jet and Smellerbee, hearing the rest of their entourage follow. Their road had long since diverged from the forest and their permanent construction of treehouses. The heady scent of stagnant water and mud had grown increasingly more noticeable. The spongy earth threatened to suck her boots down and she raised her knees high with each step, bending the excess water away from the path so that the wagon could pass with ease. They were walking adjacent to a small stream that served as the guide to the capital; eventually the stream would open up to a river that fed into one of the canals which would take them into the city.
"We're almost there," the Duke told her, his hand clutching hers. Katara wasn't sure when the boy had started holding her hand, but she didn't pull away. He had taken to her more quickly than the others, a fact that she attributed to her willingness to play with him. Despite his precocious nature, he was still an eight year old boy and he reminded her of the orphans of the village outside of IcePoint. Jet had quietly told her that the boy had been orphaned when he was barely six years old and the gang of teens and children had readily accepted him. He was the “Prince of the Forest” in their games, and even Jet chased after the boy, scooping him up and setting him on his shoulders. "There's nothing like Terusan in the whole world! And Jade Throne is the biggest throne in the world."
"No it ain't," Smellerbee retorted, albeit without any real bite. "The biggest throne is the Phoenix King's. Everything belongs to him, technically."
Katara closed her hands into fists, catching herself when the Duke tugged his little hand from hers. The Phoenix King, she wanted to say, was evil. He was the reason she was in Banka-Kadi, he was the one who had murdered her father. The very name left a sharp, bitter taste in her mouth.
Jet chewed on a long piece of grass, watching their interaction. He tossed one of the precious stones in the air, catching it as it came back down. "Nobody tried to stop the Fire Nation when they first started," he said, "everybody had wobbly knees."
"The Avatar could've," Katara said. She had loved stories and legends of the Avatars of the old times. The master of all four elements and great peacemaker of the entire world.
The older boy shrugged. "Well, nobody's seen an Avatar in a while. Almost a hundred years, so I’ve heard.." He tossed the stone again and Smellerbee caught it between her two fingers, setting it back with the others with a scowl. She and Katara had a similar sense of decorum. Smellerbee had been born into a noble family of Banka-Kadi, only running away when her father tried to force her into a betrothal to a man twenty eight years her senior. "He probably didn't exist anyway, nobody can bend all four elements."
"You don't know everybody," the Duke argued. "Maybe somebody is in the world bending all four elements right now!"
Jet snorted and snatched the little boy up, pushing his helmet back and mussing his hair. "Well I know more people than you do," he teased, "and I've never known anyone to bend more than one element."
"It's possible," Katara chimed in, "and the Avatar is a lot more than just bending all the elements. The Avatar is the great balancer." She tried to imagine the responsibility that would come with it. If the Avatar hadn't disappeared...the Fire Nation wouldn't have forced the other nations to submission, the airbenders wouldn't be a crippled nation...her father would still be alive. She squinted to keep the tears from forming. Soon, she thought, soon I’ll be home.
Jet placed a firm but gentle hand on the small of her back before brushing a stray hair behind her ear. She had never opposed his touch, whether it was chivalrous or the teasing, ghosting caresses that made her wish she hadn’t stopped him that day. He stole kisses from her whenever they had a moment to themselves. ( Was it really stealing if she gave them willingly?) Part of her would miss him the most.
The stream grew wider until it was a river, its current washing over the rocks and moss. Katara’s fingers twitched. Moving puddles was one thing, barely more than child’s play, but the river called out to her. Like the ocean. She had done what was necessary, she reassured herself, and the gods could not fault her for that.
The riverbank turned to green-flecked stone that formed the canal. The dense trees gave way to sparse buildings, sporadic signs of human civilization that grew increasingly common the longer they went on. Katara inhaled and smelled the water, and food wafting from the homes on the canal. Each one had a gondola tied to a wooden post staked into the ground just behind their front step. The Northern Water Tribe had a similar design, she knew, where most of the citizens traveled via gondola, raft, or on narrow streets on the banks. But whereas the canals of Banka-Kadi were brown and green, the North Pole was the familiar white and blue ice and snow, and the black of metal and stone. There were no canals in the South Pole, only well maintained roads, and their structures were not as elaborate as their sister Tribe’s but Katara figure that was what made the South so strong. They had endured harsh winters and famines in the generations previous before the clans all joined together to form a united society led by its bravest warriors. The clan of Nanook, who had tamed and mounted a Polar Bear Dog, had led them in an era of unity and peace that had allowed them to endure even the most perilous of times.
Eventually the buildings became denser until Katara could hear the sounds of a city. It was similar to the shadow city of IcePoint, however it was much larger and spread out. Pipsqueak drew the ox forward and the wagon rolled on. Jet led them into the city, smiling at her. "Y'know," he said, "Terusan is on a swamp, but waterbenders keep it drained. So if you ever decide to stay, at least you'll have a job."
Katara nodded. She knew a few clans of waterbenders had splintered away from the main Tribe, living on the coasts. It would not be a stretch for some to have migrated to the Earth Kingdoms, but was a surprise all the same. Nevertheless she had no plans to stay in Banka-Kadi. She would return home and pick up the pieces. The south would stand, as it always had, as it always would.
The group of ruffians navigated through the winding streets, making a path through the throng of people. Katara saw small boats cruising along the canals, with people shouting out to potential customers. There were heaps of bananas and coconuts, which Katara had only seen pictures of. One man screamed about his beautiful cabbages. Other boats were guided by the smooth gestures of waterbenders, though they did not look like her people. Years of mingling with other ethnicities had changed them. These waterbenders, Katara saw, had paler complexions. The hairstyles were the same- braids and beaded locs- though she imagined these people would have green eyes instead of blue.
Planted along the waterways were small shelters with thatched roofs. Underneath them Katara saw old women selling what seemed to be jewelry made from smooth common stones. She paused, only to be tugged along by Smellerbee.
The buildings of Terusan all seemed to be made of a vibrant milk-green stone, erected by countless earthbenders. They were tall with roofs like flower petals, humming with a vitality that vibrated through Katara's hands and legs.
They continued on, through the shouts and sweat, along the main road. Through the tangle of people, Katara could see a massive gate rising up before them. There were people standing on the wall, clad in green and yellow, and blue armor. Guards.
"Up there, on that hill beyond that wall, that's the Jade Throne. You won't actually see the inside of the palace, but I heard it's massive." Jet pointed, having discarded his blade of grass. "Bigger than anything you've ever seen."
Not Icepoint, Katara thought. Not home. “My family’s fortress would put it to shame,” she spat out, “our keep is nearly twice the size of that palace.”
“Really?” The Duke said in wonder. “Even bigger?!”
She nodded. “It’s a citadel built for defense. We have stables and kennels, and libraries and kitchens, and the warriors sworn to guard IcePoint have their own quarters. The keep- where we live- has ice gardens and courtyards. There is a meeting place for the elders and a war room…my father has his own office.” Had. He had his own office. The Duke’s eyes became the size of dinner plates the more she went on. Even Jet let out an impressed whistle.
As they neared the gates, Katara saw a line forming. There were old women and merchants with carts, men with wild animals in bamboo cages. There were men in rags and men in silks, the rich and the poor all waiting for an audience with the Jade Throne.
Two stout men approached the wagon. They were bare-footed and green-eyed earthbenders, with slivers of emeralds and turquoise embedded in their armor. They would helms that exposed their eyes and cheeks and on their wrists were gauntlets that spread up their forearms. "Why have you come to the Jade Throne?" One of the palace guards demanded, his lips moving underneath the mass of his beard.
Jet cleared his throat and pried open one of the crates, flashing the raw stones. "We rescued these from the unlawful hands of some criminals," he said, as smoothly as though he was speaking to an old friend, "and we figured our sovereign might decide what to do with them. We’re an honest folk. We might not be the cleanest or most proper, but we have honor like the rest of you."
The beared earthbender snorted. "You decided to cut out the middle man, then." He slapped Jet on the back and gestured to an entrance way off the side of the queue. "Right that way."
"Ah, one more thing!” Jet held up a finger, pulling Katara forward. "My little foreign friend is in dire need of an escort home to the Southern Water Tribe, how can she petition the Throne for that?"
"The same way you'll sell your jade," the bearded earthbender replied, and then they headed through the entrance way.
They walked through a short corridor made entirely of polished glass. It was wide enough to fix the oxen and the wagon with room to spare and its ceilings curved overhead. There was a small pond on either side behind the walls of glass and Katara could see that they were speckled with palm-sized flowers and face-sized lily pads. Perhaps Terusan had one thing that was better than IcePoint. Katara paused long enough to take in the view. Beautiful, she thought. Simply beautiful.
The glass corridor opened up into a massive audience chamber, cut with gold and green gemstones. Lapis lazuli dotted the walls. The room was crowded with armored guards and finely-dressed statesmen looking down from an overlook along with a motley arrangement of petitioners on the ground.
In the center of the room was a high backed throne with a tiny moat of water surrounding it on all sides. Sitting in the chair was a man who appeared to be a little older than her father, stroking his goatee. Upon his head was a citrine studded cap. In his lap was a young woman, her fingers lazily guiding the water in the moat. At their side was what appeared to be a spectacled scribe.
Standing in front of the throne was a tall, slender woman. Everything about her was dark save for her skin, from her hair and clothes, even to the spiraling tattoos that formed a sleeve in her left arm. In that hand she held a whip, and with the other she held onto the harness of a massively built beast. It was brown and black, with a long thin tongue that darted out to taste the air, snorting loudly. It jerked against her hold until she shook its head aggressively, whispering harshly into its ear.
"Bounty hunter Jun is here to request your royal permission to travel as she needs to throughout Banka-Kadi," the scribe droned, his nose buried in a scroll. "Local magistrates would not grant her permission, which has hindered her work and thus impacted her income.”
The man on the Jade Throne nodded absently. "An easy enough request. Consider it approved. A percentage of every bounty in Banka-Kadi will be taxed," he said and waved his hand. "Next petitioner."
The bounty hunter, Jun, nodded stiffly. She turned and Katara caught sight of her face. She was a pretty woman, even if her expression was perpetually sour. The hunter tugged on the harness of the beast and its tongue lashed out, causing a few petitioners to leap back.
Jet shoved Katara forward. "You go first," he offered, "so you can go home."
"Thank you," Katara said and stepped up to the scribe, who raised his brows at her in curiosity. Katara blushed under his scrutiny and cleared her throat, brushing her hair away from her face. "I...I need to get back to the Southern Water Tribe," she said, and she wasn't sure if she was addressing the scribe or the man on the Jade Throne. She forced the apprehension from her voice. "I have no money and would like to know if the Jade Throne could loan or sponsor my journey.”
"Do you realize, little girl," the scribe scoffed, "that our king listens to hundreds of beggars like you? What makes you so special from all the others? Surely you have heard that the Southern Water Tribe has fallen to the Fire Nation?"
Forcing the sting to leave her eyes, Katara nodded. "I know because was there when the Phoenix King sent his men to slay the chief. I watched it with my own eyes, in a matter of minutes, a great ruler had been murdered ." The water in front of her heaved and the woman in the king's lap gasped, jerking her hand back to regain control. "I saw, because I am the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe."
Her friends- if she could call them that- let out incredulous gasps. Katara went on, "I was kidnapped by the Fire Nation soldiers that killed my father, but I managed to escape by...by hurting many people. By...killing many people. But please understand," her voice a near-whisper, "home is all I have left." The tears slithered down her cheeks.
The king of Banka-Kadi clapped once, and then again. He chuckled loudly. "A stellar actress, I commend you!" The woman in his lap looked on. "But you see, young star, I'm a man old enough to have seen many hoaxes. I've little doubt that you are a lost orphan, though royalty is a bit of a reach. Eloquent though you might be, I know an actress when I see one.”
"What our king means to say," the woman in his lap said, "is that your story is very hard to believe. Our king is very generous, but not a fool. You're a pretty girl, there are other ways to get gold. This is a big city, surely you can earn enough to fund passage to wherever you mean to go. If that fails then find a position with the swamp laborers.”
"Wait," Jet interjected, "My friends and I have something to give you. If you like what we're about to show you, then you can pay us by escorting Katara back home."
Smellerbee let out a shout of disapproval, silenced by Longshot's steady hand. Quicktwitch lunged forward only to be stopped by Jet’s raised hand. Jet gestured for Pipsqueak to lift up a crate. The large teenager set the crate down and tossed off the lid.
Jet presented the stones to the king with flourish. "These'll make some fine jewelry," he said and nodded at the waterbending woman, "yeah? We won these back from a gang of thieves that had robbed them from a jeweler. It was a real nasty lot and we had to real nasty things to dispatch them. That’s why we came all the way here, so you can make sure they get back to the rightful owner. “
The woman leaned back in the man's lap and whispered something urgently in his ear. The king's face reddened as she spoke and he lifted his left hand. Someone in the overlook stood.
Through her tears, Katara sensed the energy of the room shift.
The ground under their feet rattled and suddenly an arrow flew from the overlook, lodging itself in Pipsqueak's throat. He stared at the shaft in awe before he tried to scream, but his voice became bubbling blood.
"So you're the infamous bandits!" The king snarled, tossing the woman aside and standing with a roar. It was Katara's turn to gasp, looking back desperately at the motley crew she had befriended. "I've have countless merchants come seeking my aid after you've robbed them. And at last here you are, emboldened enough to show your disgraceful faces in front of your king! Guards! Seize them!”
They lied, Katara realized. Jet and Smellerbee and all the others had lied to her.
At that same moment, Smellerbee launched herself at the throne. She let out a caterwaul and one of the armored earthbenders thrust out his hands, causing the floor to rise and swallow the girl up to her neck. "No!" She bellowed from her stone prison. “No!”
"Arrest them!" The king of Banka-Kadi bellowed and suddenly earthbenders were surrounding them, leaping down from their niches in the overlook of the audience chamber. "Arrest them!" Katara suddenly saw the archers in the stands, dressed as rich statesmen.
Katara drew water from the small pool around the throne and formed a whip. Jet and the others had lied to her, but she could not leave them. Not after they had helped her. It was worthless now, but Katara of the Southern Water Tribe never left someone who needed her. She swept one man off of his feet and hurled another at the wall. "No!" She cried and the air around her buzzed and rattled. "No !"
Jet drew his swords at the same time Longshot and Quicktwitch drew arrows. In liquid movements both archers fired off arrows that struck true. Quicktwitch was faster, his rapid succession of shots knocking two earthbenders to the ground. Longshot proved true to his name, piercing through three bowmen.
Smellerbee snatched up the Duke, cradling him close to her chest. She ducked and rolled through the unfolding fiasco back towards the exit. Jet and Quicktwitch provided her cover. Katara froze two earthbenders against the wall, ducking when the king’s waterbender hurled shards of ice in her direction. One scraped her cheek and blood began to ooze down her face. Katara spun on her heel and sent the ice back at the woman with a wordless cry, sliding next into a wave of water that collided with the circle of warriors closing in on them. She’s no master , Katara realized as the older woman stumbled to deflect her blows. With a smirk she moved into the more advanced forms, barraging her opponent faster than she could recover. With one final sweep she captured both the king and the waterbender in one fell swoop, throwing them against the wall behind the stone and freezing them in place.
The earth under her feet shook and heaved. Katara's ears began to ring and the edges of her vision went black. She felt as though she was fraying at the seams. Her arms moved faster and the water followed. The king's guard came at her again, and again, and she threw them back, again and again.
Jet pushed her out of the way, hooking his sword around a man’s ankle and pulling his feet out from under him. With his other blade he sliced through an earthbender’s hand. Quicktwitch and Longshot were back to back, mirroring each other as they cleared the overlook.
“Katara, watch out!” Jet lunged, taking her body down with him just as a chunk of rock flew past them where Katara’s head had been seconds before. He rolled with her, cutting through another guard’s ankle. He sprang back to his feet and Katara followed, her chest heaving with panic.
She felt as though she was being pulled away from her own body, as though she was watching the scene from outside of her flesh. An eerie stillness came over her thoughts.
Katara was briefly aware of the walls coming down around them. She felt something lash against the back of her neck and she felt her muscles lock, paralyzing her. Her legs turned to jelly and the floor rose up to meet her. Her temple connected with the hard ground and then there was only darkness.
Chapter 24: Across the Southern Sea
Chapter Text
Sokka
Well. There would certainly be no long walks on the beach.
Amarok growled low in his throat and Sokka raised his head, squinting as the mass of land bobbed closer to them. He put a steady hand on the polar dog's back and beside him, Touqa thanked the spirits.
Their freshwater bracera bounced over the water as Mika, a waterbender, guided with practiced motions. He was assisted by Takka, another master waterbender. Beside them in another vessel was Bato and his father's warriors. The Water Tribe great seafaring faringships rested on the horizon behind them, banners flapping in the wind.
"Almost there, buddy," Sokka said to the dark furred canine and Kunip let out a loud sigh of relief.
"About time!" Kunip exclaimed. "I can't wait to set foot on solid ground again."
Sokka considered teasing him, but thought better of it. Kunip was normally the more solemn and mature of their group, and for him to act so out of character made it obvious to Sokka that his friend was genuine. Besides, he shared the older warrior's sentiment. A storm had delayed their schedule, forcing them to land on the outpost on Whale Tail Island for a few days to weather it out. The wind and rain had been brutally cold, but it had passed relatively quickly, giving the other group of envoys time to catch up.
"Aye," Touqa nodded, "and now we're setting foot on Earth Kingdom ground. I wonder what Kyoshian food is like."
"Hopefully it has lots of meat," Sokka replied.
Kunip grinned deviously, a rare instance of humor. "I wonder what Kyoshian girls look like."
Touqa cuffed the older warrior on the side of his head. "We're on a mission. We came all this way to get allies to fight the Bird King, this isn't a pleasure trip, right, Sokka?"
Sokka wondered if Touqa caught the double meaning of his words. He shrugged, "I won't complain." Grinning, Sokka turned back to the front of the boat. He squinted as the island of Kyoshi rose up, barely more than a half barren rock with sparse trees and even sparser signs of civilization. If it weren’t for Avatar Kyoshi, the island wouldn’t exist and it still would have been po-dunk province of the next largest kingdom. A more expansionist inclined Chief might have tried to annex it, but Sokka’s father and all the others before him had been more focused on the treasures of their own continent.
A jutting outcropping came into view,revealing a wooden dock that most definitely would not have been able to support the two coal powered ships that they had left the South Pole in Beyond that, Sokka could see a statue of the island's namesake, dressed in a heavy kimono and helm. He knew that Kyoshi was the last earthbending Avatar and had separated her hometown from the rest of the Earth Kingdom. She had been notoriously isolationist, a trait that seemed contradictory to the very nature of the Avatar but Sokka figured no one had been stupid enough to argue.
“There's the welcoming committee," Sokka said and reached back to adjust his boomerang. Standing beneath the statue were ten of Kyoshi's likenesses, clad in dark green kimono and black armor. Some brandished iron war fans while others unsheathed thin swords, shoulder to shoulder. Though they were still too far away to distinguish, Sokka could see the tension in their stance. If they proved hostile then the southerners could overtake them with ease, but it would negate Sokka’s plan on arriving in peace. Mika steered towards the dock and Sokka reached into the bottom of the boat, rousing Desna as he did so. He picked up a coil of rope and stood, knotting a loop in the rope. He gave the rope a practice swing and hurled it, smirking as it caught onto the dock. "Precision!"
"State your business!" Shouted one of Kyoshi's likenesses. She had hair that was closer to auburn than it was to brown and Sokka got the impression that she was their leader, though she was neither the largest or oldest looking of the group. "This is Kyoshian land."
Amarok and Desna growled, causing the bright haired Kyoshian to hold up her sword. Yukka and Innik flanked them, hackles raised. Instinctively, Sokka's hand went to his boomerang. He dropped his hands and held them out peacefully, urging the polar dogs to stand down, stepping out of the boat and onto the dock.
"I'm Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe," he said and the words still felt wrong when they came from his mouth. They tasted metallic and sour, embittered by the circumstances. "And I have important information to give to your sovereign."
There was a collective chuckle from the group of green clad Kyoshians. "We don't have a king or queen, nor lord or chieftain," their auburn haired leader said, putting a hand on her hip. Her lips quirked under her bold red lip paint. "But if you're really who you say you are, I guess you can follow us. We'll take you to our council of elders."
His warriors climbed out of the boats. Bato came to Sokka's side, followed quickly by Kunip and Touqa. The female warriors surrounded them, their faces stoic underneath the white and black paint.
"This is your only chance, Sokka." Bato murmured and Sokka nodded. This was the moment that everything else depended upon. He couldn't fall short.
The auburn haired warrior sauntered in front of them, her red painted lips harsh against her white war paint. She looked at Sokka, her eyes some shade between gray and brown. "You don't look much like a chief."
Sokka shrugged. "Y'know, it's kind of a role that you grow into."
The young woman laughed at that, throwing her head back. Sokka could see a peach-toned throat where her paint ended. She and her group led them up a path away from the dock and up a hill, where a village rested. It sat at an advantageous point, with a clear view of the sea. The buildings of the village were made from strong wood, with gently curving roofs and wide windows. As they passed, Sokka saw faces peering out at them.
"I didn't think Earth Kingdom women could hold a sword," Sokka said and the bright haired girl gave him an iron glare. He couldn't help but flinch. Feisty bunch. They reminded him painfully of Katara.
"And what makes you think that?" She snapped, the edges of her words sharp enough to cut through his air of superiority. "Do you think women can't wield a sword? Aren't your women supposed to be fighters?"
Sokka considered backtracking, but he figured it was too late for that. The warrior girl put one gloved hand on her hip, the heat of her agitation rolling off of her in waves. "Well, they're Tribeswomen ." He had expected Earth Kingdom girls to be soft and demure, the same way he expected Fire Nation women to be psychopaths.
"Us Kyoshians are just as capable," the girl hissed and led them to a wooden longhouse at the end of the path. It was probably the biggest building on the island, aged and salt splashed from the storms that rolled up from the sea. She held up a hand to stop them. "I'll tell the elders that you're here."
"I thought Kyoshian girls would be a little better than this," Touqa snickered, causing the girl closest to him to let out an indignant snort.
“Your mother was from the Earth Kingdoms, you should know better than all of us.” Mika chimed in.
Touqa clicked his teeth. “Aye I would if she hadn’t left as soon as I was weaned and high tailed it back to wherever she was from. Pa said the cold was too much for her. I don’t see how, considering how frigid this bunch is. You could make diamonds if you stick a lump of coal up their-“
“Touqa, enough.” Bato reprimanded the younger warrior and Touqa stood down.
After a prolonged moment, the leader of the painted women emerged from the longhouse. She jerked her head at Sokka. "You and your closest advisor may enter." Sokka looked to Bato. She held the door open for them, her armor clattering as she led them down the hall.
The hall of the longhouse was narrow and smelled of mint and mildew, with doors lining both sides. Most of them were pulled tightly closed, though the last door on the end of the hall was open. From there Sokka could hear a number of hushed voices. The warrior girl led them to the room.
The large room was bare, except for a single window set high in the ceiling. Threads of light streamed down, illuminating the half-dozen wrinkled old men and women sitting expectantly in a circle on fur rugs.
Sokka bowed respectfully before the island's elders. They were not dissimilar to the elders of his own Tribe, crotchety and borderline incontinent. “This is Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe," his guide announced, "and his advisor. They have an important message to give to the leaders of Kyoshi Island."
A tiny man with a masterful beard and an equally atrocious fur hat invited them to sit on the empty dyed green mats. The auburn haired girl went to kneel beside a woman who resembled her enough to be her grandmother. "Thank you for your service, Suki," the little man said to the girl and gestured to Sokka. "What can we do for you, Chief Sokka?"
Sokka sat and held his breath, setting both hands on his knees. I won’t let you down, Dad. He glanced at the group of old men and women, their eyes all varying shades of green and brown, and began to speak. "Almost two months ago, the Phoenix King sent a Fire Nation envoy to my tribe without announcement under the guise of coming in peace.He sought, and probably still seeks, unlimited access to our land in exchange for monetary compensation. When my father, the chief, refused..."
For a moment, his father's face was the only thing he saw. He remembered pulling the blanket back and seeing his father and the aftermath of the brutality inflicted upon him. He paused and struggled to catch his breath.
Bato silently urged him to go on.
Sokka cleared his throat and blinked to ease the burn from his eyes. "When my father refused, he was murdered by the naval men and our ancestral fortress was set ablaze. In the chaos, the Fire Nation kidnapped both my sister and the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. I intend to get them back, and to fight the Fire Nation." This, he thought, was the moment that mattered. "But I- we- can't do it alone. I'm here because we need your help, and your friendship. If the South falls, then you fall. And if you fall, then others will surely follow.”
The room was silent. They looked at him, even Suki, the young warrior girl. She caught his gaze and then looked away.
Bato held up his hand and cleared his throat. "Surely you've heard of these events already?"
The little gray haired man shook his head. "I'm afraid Kyoshi Island is painfully out of the loop. The Fire Nation has its sights on bigger, stronger kingdoms, and thus we've been left alone for generations. This cold little island has no riches that the Phoenix King couldn't find elsewhere. The other Earth Kingdoms see us as backwater and parochial." He turned sympathetically towards Sokka, his green eyes glistening. "I mourn for your loss."
"Thank you," Sokka inclined his head. "I hope to avenge my family and my countrymen, and to do that, I need allies. It would be the greatest honor to count Kyoshi Island as one of them."
"Consider us among your allies and one of your friends," the tiny man leapt to his feet, a feat Sokka was surprised by. "We are not so old, nor so powerful as the South, but we will join you in what we can. We have little in the way of an army, but we have iron ore. Not as much as the South, of course, yet we offer what we can.”
The Kyoshi Warrior, Suki, met Sokka's gaze from across the room. She gave a stiff nod and Sokka nodded back.
"Thank you," Sokka said breathlessly, "thank you."
One down, he thought, and three to go.
At sunset, the Kyoshians threw a feast in his honor, and Sokka ate until he felt as though his belly was about to burst. It wasn’t as hearty as his native cuisine, but seafaring rations had left much to be desired. They had been given lodgings in the longhouse, which was a bit drafty, but Sokka figured it could always be worse. It certainly beat sleeping on the ground. And the quarters on Whale Tail Island were lackluster and rough spun.
The sun was sinking on the Southern Sea, illuminating the Water Tribe ships in a gentle golden-red light. Beyond that, somewhere, was the rest of the world.
Sokka tossed scraps of meat towards his polar dogs from where he sat on the steps at the back of the longhouse. Desna, the youngest, licked his face until Sokka snorted with laughter, pushing the young canine away from him. Bato and the others were still inside, enjoying Kyoshian hospitality.
The sound of footsteps alerted him to another presence."Are you always this introspective?" A feminine voice asked and a girl in an ivory colored tunic sat down beside him on the top step. Her hair was tied back and auburn, and her eyes were somewhere between brown and gray. The lack of armor revealed she was more slender than Sokka had initially thought. Without her war paint, she seemed more real. Less vicious.
Sokka smiled and slid over to give her space. "Not always." He tossed another piece of meat to Yukka. "You look different without all the garb. Not so imposing."
Suki giggled. "That's the point. Kyoshi was big and intimidating." She opened her hand expectantly and Sokka passed her a piece of meat. She held out her hand and clicked her tongue. Amarok sniffed her palm and wagged his tail.
"You have polar dogs around here?" Sokka asked incredulously before shooting a sour look at his favorite dog. "Amarok, you traitor. At least you're loyal to me, Desna. And both of you, Innik, Yukka. I see that this one has loose morals.” Not that he could blame him. A pretty woman with a handful of treats was hard to resist.
"Some. Some tribesmen brought some over a long time ago. You know we’re not so far away from you.” Suki buried her hands in the dark fur. "Sorry about your family. I'll do anything I can to help you. I can't imagine going through what you have."
The Tribesman looked down at his boots, squinting. "Yeah, me neither."
Suki fell silent and Sokka could feel her curiously watching him from the corner of his eye. "Where are you going after you leave Kyoshi?"
"Omashu, probably. And then Taku." Those kingdoms were smaller than the vast nations of Arakem and the tribes of Si Wong and the massive kingdom of Laogai. If he won four kingdoms then Banka-Kadi would be sure to throw their hat in with him. Not that they would make much difference in the long run. Though far from inconsequential, there was not much they could offer that Sokka didn’t already have. "And Gaoling." Sokka knew that the larger Earth Kingdoms were too far under the Phoenix King's thumb to even consider. "We'll stand a chance then. A slim chance, but still."
The auburn haired girl was solemn. "You're waging war on half of the known world. And what about the airbenders?"
Sokka couldn't help but scoff. "The airbenders are practically dead to the world. They're totally dependent on the Fire Nation, and you can't expect a pacifist to pick up a spear. And y'know, I didn't consider it to be "half of the world". Maybe we're the awesome revolutionaries. You think I can overthrow a sociopathic emperor?”
"Maybe." Without her war paint, Sokka could see every thought rippling across her face. "I'm going with you," Suki declared. It was a declaration, not a request and Sokka couldn’t refuse her even if he wanted to. "When you leave, I’m coming with you. I've never been off of the island and there's a whole world out there. I want to be a part of the change, too."
For a moment, they sat in a palpable silence. Sokka saw something flicker on the water and Suki let out a gasp, grabbing his arm. She paid no mind to Sokka's flexing, pointing at the serpentine shape that arced through the water of the estuary between the shore and the sea, its massive head appearing and disappearing in a heartbeat. It was orange and white, glittering in the dying light of the evening. "The Unagi," she whispered.
"The what ?" Sokka raised a brow.
Suki opened her hands. "The Unagi. He swims in these waters and feeds on elephant koi." A devious smile danced over her face and Sokka thought that she was truly pretty. Not beautiful, but pretty. "Sometimes he feeds on wayward men." She winked teasingly.
"Ah, well I'm a man with a direction. A man with a plan, you could say." Sokka watched the water ripple and shimmer.
"I've noticed." She drew her legs up. "I've also noticed that you're very brave." She leaned forward and planted a gossamer kiss on his cheek before standing, clapping a strong hand on his shoulder. "I'll see you later, Chief Sokka."
A warmth spread over his cheeks and down his neck. Sokka tripped over his words, finally managing to spit out, "Sokka. You can just call me Sokka."
Suki looked back at him and in the sunset, Sokka realized that he was wrong. She was more than pretty. She was beautiful, even in her armor and war paint. Maybe especially in her armor and war paint. "Alright," she said, breaking his thoughts. "Goodnight, Sokka."
She left him sitting there with his polar dogs. Sokka leaned back and linked his fingers behind his head, watching as the stars appeared in the sky cluster by cluster, and the moon shyly came out to greet him once more.
Chapter 25: Leaving Home
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
The morning was unusually cool. Lu-Ten shoved his dagger into his belt and threw his leopon cloak over his shoulders. He walked into the main room of Tuwa's house, where his family sat waiting for him.
All eyes turned to him. Lallo, Moema, and Yaretzi sat close together, hands clasped. Yaretzi had left their house before the sunrise to go to the temple. She hadn’t returned as she was accustomed to, and Lu-Ten had known instinctively where to find her. It occurred to Lu-Ten that this would perhaps be the last time he saw the family that raised him as it truly was. Tuwa and Moema, the young two and the baby. He and Yaretzi and Lallo would leave them behind. Today he would leave and he would become a king.
Or he would die.
Tuwa slid to her feet and cupped his face with both hands, her own features solemn. "Agni has willed it," she said and for the first time, the woman appeared to be sad. She kissed his forehead. "You leave and you become a dragon. You become a ruler…in these twenty years, you’ve become a son of mine just like Lallo.” A thin smile crossed her lips. “Three of my children are leaving me.”
Lu-Ten could do nothing but nod.
The woman released his face. "Take care of my daughter," she said, wrinkling her nose, "and let no crown prevent you from returning." She grinned and pushed him away. Lu-Ten reached back and pulled her back to him, crushing her in an embrace. His eyes burned. Tuwa had been the only mother he had ever known.
“Never,” he swore. “Never.”
Moema, holding her youngest brother, reached out and clasped Lu-Ten's arm. She said no words, but Lu-Ten had not expected her to. They held each other's stare for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them. Should Lu-Ten return, he would be a king, a great change from the orphan boy who had fought with her as a child.
Lallo and Yaretzi both stood. The sides of their scalps had been adorned in red paint. Across Yaretzi's back was a leather woven quiver and curved bow, and Lallo had his spear strapped to his back. "Bow to your queen, Mother!" Lallo teased and gave a sweeping gesture in Yaretzi's direction.
Yaretzi laughed and the others joined in, the tension melting from the room. "We shall all be royalty," she said. "The dynasty of Sun Warriors."
Tuwa sobered. "We all must serve the gods," she said, "and destiny is something we can not escape. If the gods had not thought you capable, they would have chosen another.” She held up a hand and waved for them to head to the door.
Lu-Ten led the way.
As he stepped outside, he was met with the sight of the entire village-city crowding around, their hands glowing with orange and red flames. It seemed as if every soul was assembled in the space around Tuwa’s doorstep. They were chanting an ancient prayer, with Tonatiuh leading them. Lu-Ten paused, feeling his blood begin to hum and the hair on his arms rose.
Tonatiuh stepped forward, his dark eyes meeting Lu-Ten's. They mirrored each other as they both pressed a fist to their chest, giving stiff nods. The chief of the Sun Warriors went down on one knee and then two, kneeling before the lost prince. "Prince Lu-Ten of the Fire Nation," he said, "The rightful king."
Lu-Ten grabbed Tonatiuh's arm, beckoning for him to rise. "I am no true king," he refuted, "not yet. Do not kneel to me, not when we are equals. When I return, I shall make you all rich. I will find a high position for you in my court.” He smiled.
The Sun Warrior grinned back and clapped a hand on Lu-Ten's back. “Don’t bother. My place is here and always will be. He turned to Yaretzi and then Lallo, doing the same to them. "We'll light a candle in the temple for you all. You might leave us physically, but you will forever be one of us.”
Hopefully, Lu-Ten thought, Tenochizun and Citlali would make his journey easy. He turned back to his wife and her brother, and then he walked through the parted sea of Sun Warriors, making an effort to lift his chin.
They were watching him, he knew. The Sun People and the gods, perhaps the dragons, too. And perhaps his father in whatever afterlife he had found himself in. As he walked, someone pushed a travel sack in his hands and another ran their red painted fingers along his cheeks, leaving faded trails underneath his eyes. Lu-Ten carried on.
As they reached the edge of the village-city, Lu-Ten listened to the sound of his people calling his name. The air was warm from their fires, chasing away the cold, and in that moment, there were no doubts.
Yes, Lu-Ten thought, this was what he was meant to do.
Lallo and Yaretzi trailed behind him. They wore packs of their own, stuffed with rations, shoes, clothing and other necessities for the first leg of their journey. They would wander through the forest until they came upon the next society that bordered the edge of a colony of the Fire Nation that was an enclave of two Earth Kingdoms. They went first in the direction of the Twin Caves, and then turned towards the valley. Lu-Ten watched the sky for any signs of the dragons. He could hear what sounded like Ran and Shaw, but when he scanned the sky, he caught no sign of the massive beasts.
They trotted on in near silence for most of the morning and afternoon, covering more ground than Lu-Ten expected. He attributed it to the fact that there were only three of them as opposed to a slow moving army. Perhaps it would have been better to employ a few mounts but Lu-Ten had argued against it. His sore feet and aching shins cursed him now.
When they stopped to rest, they had reached the edge of the valley. The village-city and the jungle were firmly behind them, and the Twin Caves were in the distance. At the elevation of the valley lip, Lu-Ten realized for the first time how secluded the Sun Warriors were from the rest of the world. They had hidden him well. So well that Lu-Ten had assumed that their city and jungle was the whole world until he was five years old. It was only then that Tuwa revealed the whole truth of his identity.
Lu-Ten estimated that they would reach the first outsider settlement in three days, if they kept a good pace. The Sun People, Lu-Ten knew, were not like any others. Finding a Fire Nation settlement was easy, but the Sun Warriors were unknown to most of the world.
That obscurity would be shattered when Lu-Ten staked his claim. Their society would be revealed, possibly put in danger. He considered it as he and his companions sat in the dirt, filling their stomachs on fruits and nuts. There would be no more of Tuwa's stew, Lu-Ten thought.
"What do you think it's like?" Yaretzi chirped. "I mean the rest of the world, what do you think it's like?"
"No dragons," Lallo replied, tossing a handful of nuts in his mouth. "I doubt they shave their heads either." He looked at Lu-Ten, his brown eyes narrowing. "So when you become the Fire Lord, you're going to be like all the other firebenders, aren't you?"
It took a moment for Lu-Ten to understand his implications. He set his gaze on both Yaretzi and Lallo, his upper lip curling at the accusation. "I'm still going to be Lu-Ten of the Sun People. You should know better than anyone, Lallo. I was raised as your brother. We were anointed as Sun Warriors together. The only thing that will change is that I'll have a crown."
"And more enemies," Yaretzi said sharply.
"And more enemies," Lu-Ten repeated, nodding resolutely. Some things were inevitable. It was a fact he had accepted as soon as he had decided to answer the call. He stood, dusting crumbs off of his clothes, and waited as his wife and friend readied themselves. "But you can't deny the gods." The words came out sharper than he had intended.
That night Lu-Ten slept without dreams. The three of them curled up together to share warmth on their outspread blankets. The next morning they continued on without event, the monotony of their journey already setting in. It was on the third day that they crossed a hill and a ravine, navigating a bridge that Lu-Ten guessed had been built and abandoned a half-century ago. They stood midway, taking the time to look at the world beneath them. In the far distance, beyond the sea of green trees, Lu-Ten made out the very tip of the Sun Temple, the last sight of a world that he had known for twenty years.
Lu-Ten felt the thrumming in his blood and bones, and the sky over them went dim. He threw his head back and searched the sky. Yaretzi gasped quietly and Lallo murmured out some prayer to Citlali.
Flying in large circles above their heads was a dragon, just above the tree line. It was neither Ran nor Shaw, that much was apparent. It lacked the primordial magnanimity that exuded from the dragons, but its scales were a sparkling ruby, its mane colored gold. Its wing membranes were nearly translucent. The beast was small, at least smaller than Ran and Shaw, and young, from Lu-Ten's estimate. As if feeling their eyes upon it, the dragon belched out red-tinged flame. It swooped low, its wings flapping furiously.
The dragon tucked its wings and limbs to its body and suddenly dove in their direction. Lallo pulled on Lu-Ten's arm. " Maybe we should step back."
Lu-Ten followed the smaller man's lead. The dragon landed some distance from them with a breath of smoke, its wings coiling close to its body. It set its great claws into the earth and with a chill Lu-Ten realized that though it was small in comparison to the others, the dragon was nearly twice his height. It bared its teeth, revealing fangs that were as long as Lu-Ten’s forearm. A growl rumbled in its throat and it took an earth shaking step closer to them. Lu-Ten wondered if something about them suggested they were prey. He drew his dagger at the same moment Yaretzi slung her bow in front of her, notching an arrow. The Sun People venerated the dragons, but they were no fools.
The dragon roared, flashing fangs that could pierce a man's skull. It took another menacing step forward, its head snaking back and forth. Yaretzi cast a nervous glance at her brother and Lu-Ten, doubt flickering across her features. "I don't know what to do."
"You do what you have to in order to live!" Lallo exclaimed. “Shoot it!”
Yaretzi drew the bow, biting her bottom lip. She aimed at the dragon and Lu-Ten saw she was on the verge of tears. "I don't want to."
Lallo made a sound of frustration. His hands came alight with firebending and Lu-Ten saw the young dragon's head rear up in what he could only perceive as curiosity. Lu-Ten held up his hand in pause, pressing his arm against Lallo’s chest. The dragon's eyes watched the flame, its whiskers flickering. It let out a growl.
"Lallo, dance." Lu-Ten commanded and his friend looked at him in confusion. "Don't ask questions," Lu-Ten snapped, "just dance!" He conjured his own flame and set his feet in the moves of a Sun Warrior kata, sliding fluidly into the next form. He juggled the flame between his hands, letting it bounce between his fingers. "Yaretzi, come on!"
The brother and sister exchanged wary glances and joined the golden-eyed man, arching and leaping to a silent beat. The three of them moved in a circle, tossing balls of fire to each other. Lu-Ten glanced at the dragon, seeing its hooded eyes following them.
"I still don't understand what we're doing," Lallo said through gritted teeth, shuffling to the right. "Why haven't we been eaten?"
"Because we're dancing," Yaretzi answered. "It's calming to it. Somehow!” She dropped her hands, letting the ball of fire dissipate. Lu-Ten followed her lead and turned towards the beast.
The dragon now crouched before them, head resting on its paws in a state of tranquility. Lu-Ten, questioning his sanity, stepped forward with his hand extended. The dragon growled, but made no move. It watched him as he approached, tail flicking lazily. Lu-Ten let his fingers brush the hot skin of the dragon's snout. Yaretzi inhaled sharply.
Lu-Ten met the dragon's gaze and saw an intelligence that surpassed his own. This beast, Lu-Ten thought, was still young in relation to Ran and Shaw, but was still much older than him. Setting his palm fully on the dragon's snout, Lu-Ten raised a brow. "I guess we passed the test, hmm?" His hand slid towards the downy mane. It was softer than he had expected. He turned back to his companions, their eyes wide. "Our dancing calmed him."
Lallo slithered up to him. "I thought for sure he would incinerate us."
"Me, too." Lu-Ten pulled his hand away and the spell was broken. The beast jerked his head and beat its wings, causing the men to scramble back. It took flight without warning, climbing back into the sky. Lu-Ten watched as it circled once, twice, and took off.
Lallo smirked. "If a dragon bows to you, that's a good sign. He's not Ran or Shaw, but it's a good start. Maybe if he comes back, you can try and ride him. Then the whole world would bow to you."
Lu-Ten shook his head. He had heard of people mounting dragons before, mostly in stories of days long gone. The original Sun Warriors supposedly had ridden dragons all over the world until they were forced into secrecy. He wiped the sweat off of his brow. "I, for one, say we stop traveling for the day. We can still make good time tomorrow."
The siblings nodded agreeably. They went on a little further, their eyes watching the trees and the sky, moving warily. Lu-Ten kept his blade within reach as they settled in a clearing. He laid down his cloak and manipulated his travel sack until it resembled a pillow.
Lallo settled some distance away from him, lighting a small fire to ward off any curious animals. Yaretzi crawled up next to Lu-Ten and he stiffened as she lay within a finger's reach of him. They had slept in the same bed since they were married, though never within sight of her brother. It was different from when they all slept close to each other. Lu-Ten glanced in the smaller man's direction.
Yaretzi's brother had crossed his arms before his chest, smiling. "I'm watching you, Lu-Ten," he called across the clearing with a chuckle. "I'm watching you!"
Lu-Ten pushed his travel sack aside, finding it hard and uncomfortable. He put his hands behind his head and Yaretzi moved into the curve of his body. She was soft and warm, and he had long since grown used to her presence. The nights where she slept in the temple left him longing for the feel of her against him. He put a hand on her spine.
"I've never been outside of our civilization," Yaretzi whispered, "but...I am not afraid. The gods willed this moment..."
"And who are we to refuse?" Lu-Ten finished for her. "When we get there, how am I supposed to know what to do? I have no friends in the outside world."
Yaretzi's eyes gleamed in the firelight. "Perhaps you do," she replied, "and perhaps these things will fall into place, yes? You're destined for this, Lu-Ten, and it'll come to pass, as sure as-"
"The sun rises. I know." Lu-Ten closed his eyes. "I know."
———
When Lu-Ten awoke, he found the hand that had touched the dragon with had turned red and blistered. Yaretzi, wordlessly, took his hand and applied a gentle healing warmth. The Sun People knew that fire gave life and healed. Lu-Ten was forever in awe of the healing touch that Yaretzi had learned from her mother and forever grateful for the both of them.
They ate a meager breakfast in silence. Lu-Ten glanced at his hand every so often, and he found that Lallo had suffered the same affliction. Perhaps, Lu-Ten thought, touching a dragon's snout was not the brightest of ideas.
As the sun rose, casting their path in gray light, Lu-Ten considered his plan. He would need an army, of which he was sorely lacking. He also fell short of political savviness and etiquette, and allies. He was short on many things, he realized. He had nothing but a dream.
But perhaps, if Yaretzi was to be believed, the gods would help him.
The sun approached its zenith as the trees grew sparse. Eventually they gave way to a road that went down a gently sloping hill. Below, Lu-Ten saw, was an outsider city. Well, he thought, perhaps more of a town than a city. They were officially out of the jungle and in the Fire Nation enclave within one of the Earth Kingdoms, though he had no clue as to which. The day had not quite started, and there were few people milling about. He could see that they wore red, brown, and green. Their own clothing would not be out of place. He and Lallo wore dark red vests and Yaretzi wore a high slit skirt over brown cloth leggings.
The three of them stopped, suddenly hesitant.
"Their buildings don't look like ours," Yaretzi said.
"Because, they're not the same as us," Lallo replied. "They're not Sun People. They don't even firebend the same way. To them, we don't even exist. You don’t remember anything like this, Lu-Ten?”
Lu-Ten ground his teeth. He might as well have risen from the dead. “I was three years old and spent those three years in a palace. Do you really think I would remember?” The only thing he could remember was Tuwa and Moema and Lallo clinging to her skirts. Perhaps he had a vague recollection of the palace in which he had been born, but it was clouded by his memories with the life he had been given. Pulling his travel sack closer to his body, he continued to walk down the hill. The bushes were high, their branches scraping against his legs as he went on. Twice he thought he heard the tell-tale hiss of a bush-snake but he pushed on all the same.
Yaretzi took the lead of the descent, readjusting her quiver and bow. Lu-Ten had shouldered her rucksack with his own. They entered the town through an alley between two square buildings that were made from pale brown sandstone. They were disappointingly plain, nothing at all like the grandiose temples and towers that Lu-Ten had envisioned in his head. Were his uncle’s people not supposed to be opulent and greedy? Where were the lacquered doors and garnet roads? The roads, at least, were paved and clean, as if they were swept often. They weren’t made of gemstones but rather intricately laid cobblestone. Lu-Ten pressed his hand against the brick of one of the buildings, finding it cool to the touch. It was not so different from the homes of their native city. There were windows sealed with glass and thatched roofs reinforced with staggered shingles.
A man with a round hat passed by them with an animal pulling a wagon heavy with jars. He glanced at them and then did a double-take before continuing on without a word.
Lu-Ten turned onto the main road, seeking the entrance of one of the buildings. A sign was posted above a door, and though the characters were slightly different from their script, Lu-Ten deciphered it to be: "The Watering Hole".
"They bring their animals inside to drink?" Yaretzi asked incredulously, her nose wrinkling.
Lallo shrugged.
"No, of course not! There can't be any harm in going in," Lu-Ten said. He pushed open the door to the building and stepped inside, taken aback by a thick cloud of white, sweet smelling smoke. He sputtered, stepping back onto Lallo's feet.
Regaining his breath, the golden eyed man took another step inside. He could see round, low, tables with cushions around them, and other tables that were higher off of the ground. Social houses, he knew them to be called. There was one on the other side of the village-city that he and Lallo visited on occasion. It served a number of dinner platters that Lu-Ten had relied on for much of his bachelor meals. It was where he had found the vast majority of his one-night lovers.
There were very few women in this social house, and they swirled around the room with pipes from which came the smoke. A handful of men sat throughout the room, some slumped over and others sitting unnaturally upright. Lu-Ten saw a woman dressed in red and white roughly prodding the men to rouse them.
"Can I help you?" Another woman drawled, coming up behind them. She was perhaps the same age as Tuwa. Her eyes, which were a bright yellow, flickered over them and her top lip curled. She did not understand their shaven heads or red paint. "Are you an acting troupe?"
Lu-Ten pulled himself out of his stupor and shook his head. “No, no, nothing of the sort. We just entered the city and so happened to stumble in here. Do you have any open seats?”
The woman looked at Lallo and Yaretzi, who were very clearly siblings, and then back at him with his significant height and pale skin. “Follow me.” She led them to a lowered table and gestured absently to the cushions. She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care who or what you all claim to be, but don’t come in here with whatever foreign, or perhaps better said, indigenous, queer ways you might have.”
Indigenous. She spat the word as if it were a curse, as if the very concept and taste of the word was distasteful. “Every once in a while one or two of your sun worshiping types will pass through, but they carry themselves with class.”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” Lu-Ten responded through gritted teeth, “we’ll be in and out without disturbing your more…” he waved his hand towards the inebriated and smoke impaired men, “ refined patrons. Now, do you have any sake?”
Yaretzi was fuming. “Is that really how they see us? We are the descendants of the original firebenders.”
Lallo put a hand over his sister’s. “Yes.” There was no softness in his answer, no attempt to downplay the young woman’s disdain. “That’s how they see us.”
A few minutes passed before the matron returned with a bottle of sake and three cups. She served them each a full glass and set a menu down in front of them. “Dinner menu starts in ten minutes if you want to wait. Flag me or one of the girls down when you’re ready.”
Lu-Ten thanked her, smirking at her change of tone when money was involved. They were too queer for her taste but their money wasn’t.
Lallo poured himself and Lu-Ten another serving, shaking his head at Yaretzi when she yawned and her head drooped, copper cheeks tinged red. “Spirits, you’re pathetic. Did Mother ever let you drink?”
Yaretzi lifted her head. “Barely. Maybe once.”
Her brother scoffed.
Lu-Ten raised his hand, catching the eye of the matron. She made her way over to them, stopping to slap another slumped patron out of his stupor. She stood in front of their table, chuckling under her breath at Yaretzi’s hooded eyes.
Behind the woman, he could see two men watching them from another table. He hadn’t noticed them when they entered, so he figured that the men had arrived after them. He narrowed his eyes. One man had skin that was closer to black than it was to brown, and the other had ears pierced with heavy gold rings. He had the bronzed skin and brown eyes of the Sun Warriors, though he wore a white tunic that matched his companion’s. The man with the very dark skin pulled on his companion's arm and pointed.
Lu-Ten put a hand on the hilt of his knife.
The man with the pierced ears leapt to his feet without warning and rushed towards them. Without second thought Lallo and Lu-Ten were on their feet, nearly knocking the table over. The matron was pushed aside, falling heavily onto one of the cushions beside Yaretzi. The other patrons of the social house turned at the commotion.
Lu-Ten fell into a fighting stance, pulling his dagger out of his belt. Lallo had withdrawn his machete.
The man held open his hands in a peacekeeping gesture, taken aback by their speed. They were trained warriors in their prime, their reflexes were spry and instinctual. The other man was older, perhaps fifty-five summers, with speckled gray hair. "My boy!" The man with pierced ears exclaimed.
Lu-Ten stepped back. The man, though unfamiliar, had the accent of the Sun Warriors. The matron had gripped Yaretzi’s arm, who had sobered quickly. Lallo did not lower his machete. "I do not know you," he snarled.
"I know," the man said quietly and gestured for them to stand down. Reluctantly Lallo sheathed his machete and Lu-Ten reattached his knife to his belt “But I know you, and I know your family. Lu-Ten. Lallo. And sweet Yaretzi. I know you all. And I know that at last, the time has come."
Lallo and Yaretzi squeezed in beside Lu-Ten at the table, facing the Sun Warrior and his dark skinned companion, who had silently approached. The Sun Warrior gazed at them in awe, his brown eyes crinkling. Lu-Ten saw that red tattoos banded his arms, and he had a gold bangle. So he was one of them. Bewildered, Lu-Ten wondered how this stranger knew their names. "My name is Tenoch," he said, "and I am the man who brought you to Tuwa."
Lu-Ten scrutinized the man's face as he spoke, hoping that his features would jar some suppressed memory. He remembered Tuwa telling him of the man that had brought him to the Sun People twenty years ago, when he was barely more than a babe, though she had never mentioned a name. "I've never seen you before."
Tenoch nodded. "Because, my boy, the gods called me elsewhere. They called me to help secure the balance of the world, part of which was bringing you to my people." He helped the dumbfounded matron. "We knew the time would come."
"We?" Lu-Ten repeated quizzically.
"Yes," Tenoch nodded and put a hand on his companion. His voice dropped into little more than a whisper. “This is my dear friend Dejen, and we are part of an ancient society of peacekeepers. We are members of the Order of the White Lotus."
Lallo frowned. "And you, a Sun Warrior, are a part of this...Order?"
Again Tenoch affirmed. "Members of the Order come from all clans and nations, from all tribes. Dejen himself is Arakemeti." He paused, taking note of their confusion and then looked towards the older woman. "Arakem is an Earth Kingdom. Right, Seoyun?”
Seoyun had righted herself, managing to regain her composure. “You didn’t tell me he would look like this!” She hissed at Tenoch and it occurred to Lu-Ten that she was familiar with both of the men. “You said he would look like Ozai! I expected someone who would dress like a typical firebender! Who would dress like Ozai!”
Lu-Ten looked to the heavens, wondering how the gods expected him to help the world when he didn't even know all of the kingdoms. He bristled at the comparison to his uncle. “You knew my father?"
"Iroh was a great friend," Tenoch said regretfully. "And we all mourned the tragedy that befell him. Your father was using his power to bring balance back to our world, and we trust in you to carry on his work and join us. As Lord of the Fire Nation, you would finally remove the Fire Nation's iron fist on the world, and bring peace to all nations."
"But my uncle-" Lu-Ten glanced towards Yaretzi. She nodded in encouragement. "You're sentencing me to death. I have no allies and no armies."
Dejen cleared his throat and Lu-Ten found his voice to be smooth and deep. "The Order has already helped you. We come from all nations and we can help sway opinions in your favor. Seoyun, abrasive as she might be, is also on our side.” He smiled, his bright teeth contrasting brilliantly against his dark skin. "The queen of Arakem will listen to you, should you ever find your way on her doorstep."
"And the dragons, Lu-Ten," Yaretzi tugged on his arm, and when the two old men looked at her, she returned their gaze levelly. She lifted her chin, regally and almost defiantly. "I am Lu-Ten's wife. And my husband has entranced a dragon with his dancing. If he can make a dragon bow to him, then you have nothing to fear."
Seoyun let out a breath.
Dejen and Tenoch gaped at him and Lu-Ten stared back, wondering what they saw in him. Dejen clapped his hands, composing himself quickly. “So we have nothing to fear." Was he a man? A king? A dragon?
Chapter 26: The Keenest Eye
Chapter Text
Zuko
The steel mill was hard at work, accentuated by the clang of metal being worked and the constant hiss of steam and the grunts of men. It smelled like sweat and fire. It stank of exhaustion. Zuko took it all in as he walked, making quick notes in his book as he went, dabbing at the sweat on his brow with a cloth provided to him. The mill's overseer walked alongside him, craning his neck to catch a glance at Zuko's writing. Zuko pulled it closer to his chest.
The interior was a dark red metal that seemed to make the mill feel hotter than it already was. Their boots clanked rhythmically over the floor. "The men have been working day in and day out to ramp up production," the overseer said, "and the on-site engineers and mathematicians have determined that a certain metal alloy could make the vessel lighter and faster. They’re working to refine the process and then present it to the Ministry of Development.” He tucked his hands in his sleeves, which Zuko thought were impractical for such a dangerous environment. "Gods willing, and if our pace stays strong, she could be finished within two or three years' time."
Zuko nodded. That was what his father would like to hear. His last report had not been so positive and the Ministry of Development had suffered the Phoenix King’s wroth for a full three weeks. He followed the overseer as he took him down a sloping hall that was sweltering hot and tinged red as the metal was heated. Perspiration beaded on his brow and Zuko adjusted his vest, finding his lungs burning as he breathed in the hot air.
Through the dim light from the recessed bulbs overhead, he could see men furiously feeding furnaces with coal and fueling it with their firebending. Most were shirtless, revealing arms bulging with muscle from their labor. Zuko strode by them, making a quick mark on his notes. "Do they have breaks and adequate water? Any recent injuries?” He asked the overseer. The man winced.
Zuko was not Azula, but he had been raised in the Fire Nation court. He knew how to observe the nuances in expression and speech. Zuko raised his brows, made a mark on the tablet, and waited.
"Of course, of course," the overseer said. "The mill has only the best interest of our employees in mind. There have been no injuries to report, mostly just bruises. A jammed finger here or there.” He walked briskly down the corridor, leading Zuko up a flight of stairs to the other side of the mill.
"The engineers are all certified, and as are the welders." The overseer cast a glance at Zuko, his glasses flashing. "They are all ethnically Fire Nation, if that is a concern to you."
It wasn't, and Zuko was fairly certain that his father didn't care who completed the vessel. While the Fire Nation had the fastest growing economy and industry in the world- obviously-, the most elite of the skilled labor force had studied outside of the archipelago. Many scholars had been churned out by the massive University of Ba Sing Se or College of Garsai. A fair number of adopted innovations came from Arakem. The Ministry of Development had only pursued the best, petitioning carte blanche for the project that Ozai had readily agreed to.
"What about you?" Zuko asked. "Where are you from?"
The overseer's brows twitched and Zuko set his gaze on him. "Hing Hua," he replied. Zuko considered it. Hing Hua was a small western island, not known for much except their ash bananas. He figured that no one would lie about being from Hing Hua. "I worked very hard to get here."
“I’m sure you did.”
The tour continued and Zuko saw rods of metal and sheeting being loaded onto elaborate pulleys. from docking stations. Teams of massive men from Garsai and far-reach islands hauled them up to a floor above them, where they would be taken across the mill's island to be completed. Zuko found it particularly fascinating to be able to watch one of the world's most innovative vessels come to life.
Twelve tons of blasting jelly was highly volatile. It was no laughing matter. It was enough to melt the Northern Water Tribe and turn it into irreparable slush. The entire population of the North Pole would be annihilated.
And all the Phoenix King had to do was give the command.
Zuko wondered if Yue, the Northern Water Tribe princess, would find the science behind the ship and blasting jelly as interesting as he did. If she knew the intentions of its construction, it would be highly doubtful. He knew she spent most of her time alone in her room, pouring over the scrolls that she would beg Zuko or Azula to get for her. Other times she would wander aimlessly in the gardens with her polar dog.
Then Zuko remembered that the whole purpose of the project was to keep the North, Yue's home, under control. Should the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe decide to act, Zuko had no doubt that Yue's life would be forfeit. If Ozai decided to end the girl, no spirits could save her.
The tour ended and the overseer bowed, spilling out his gratitude for the visit. Zuko nodded listlessly and rejoined the royal guards waiting for him at the exit. When offered a litter back to the ferry he declined, opting to take in the sight of the steel mill as it was.
The sky above the island seemed to be permanently gray from the black smoke billowing out of the towers. It was worse on the bigger industrial islands, far out on the other side of the archipelago, where it was not uncommon to see three-headed fish. The Ministry of Development had little regard for regulations in the lesser populated islands. As long as the men had two hands and two feet to work, the safety regulations could be ignored.
"Anything below standards, Prince Zuko?" Asked one of the royal guards as they crossed the ragged road towards their ferry that would take them back to the caldera.
Zuko glanced at the notes he would present to his father. "The treatment of laborers," he noted, though he figured that the mill was not out of place with any of the others. "Something so important can't be done by ill-treated workers." Any overlooked detail or mishap would be catastrophic.
The guards accompanying him nodded. They didn't know the whole truth behind the project and it was not in Zuko's place to tell them. Aside from the Phoenix King and the royal family, and the Ministry of Development, no one else was privy to the assignment. Even Mother knew of the project, though after learning the gruesome details, she had refused to hear anything else of it. Her sensitive heart couldn’t bear it. The members of the Ministry were sworn to secrecy under the threat of death. They boarded the ferry and Zuko situated himself at the prow, watching the gentle cresting of the waves. The ferry's whistle blew and a tendril of smoke drifted from the smokestack.
The caldera was not far away, perhaps a half hour's ride. Zuko watched as the mill dipped and slowly disappeared behind them and his home island rose forth over the water. He could not see its perfectly aligned pagodas or its swept cobblestone roads, but he could trace each and every one like the veins on the back of his hand.
His entourage offered him a palanquin when the ferry landed and he acquiesced. The streets of the capital were swept twice daily, and Zuko had never seen a beggar. He figured there were no homeless people in the capital- most noble estates had quarters for their servants and workers. A fair number of unskilled laborers came in via a scheduled ferry from a tiny island less than two miles to the southeast.
The ride in the palanquin back to the palace was smooth and quiet. Zuko pushed back the curtain and peered out. He saw small groups of noblewomen, their hair done up in tight buns and hands tucked in large sleeves. They were escorted by burly servants or green eyed children chasing behind them with parasols. It was the newest trend among the elite to “adopt” children from the colonies in the Earth Kingdoms, though in truth they were little more than domestic servants and trophies. Mother and Father thought it was a distasteful practice, and more than once Zuko had heard the Phoenix Queen urging her husband to outlaw the trend and send the children back home.
Courier boys pranced down the streets and household servants hurried along by the order of their employers, carrying packages or lists.
This was his home, Zuko thought. This was the city and the island that he would one day be lord over. He would be the second Phoenix King and the whole world would answer to him.
That was a lot of power.
When he entered the spacious halls of the palace, Zuko found it to be quieter than normal. Most days his mother would host socials and go on strolls throughout the various gardens. She would drag Azula and Yue along with her, and Azula would eventually slither off with her two lackeys Mai and Ty Lee.
Mai wasn't so bad. A bit dry, but Zuko figured that's what made her stand out. She was pretty enough.
He recalled that the Phoenix Queen had instead joined the other noblewomen at the estate of Takuma's widow. Zuko had wondered why no one questioned the man's mysterious death, though he figured Azula had been right.
Takuma had forgotten he had enemies.
Zuko made his way to his father's personal study, adjusting his crown as he walked. He smoothed out his notes and entered the silent hall that held the rooms belonging to his parents. The door to the king and queen's room was built from rich dark wood brought from Garsai. It had been decorated with images of the Phoenix dusted lightly in gold. Zuko stood before it, held his breath, and knocked.
There was no answer, but he knew his father had heard him. Zuko pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside. The antechamber led to his father's sleeping area, or branched off to his windowed study. Zuko peered around the door leading to the king's study, catching sight of dark hair and shimmering white and gold armor. He was facing the window that overlooked the palace grounds.
"Father," Zuko called out and bowed as Ozai turned to face him. The man gestured for his son to rise and he did, catching note of the scrolls crowding the Phoenix King's workspace. "I've just arrived from the mill."
Ozai's brow twitched and Zuko went on without preamble. "I think everything will be very pleasing to you. The overseer told me that the current estimation is that the vessel will be completed within two years time, though I expect it could get done faster if there was more than one mill taking on the effort."
"No." Ozai said and Zuko knew enough to let the matter drop. “Very good. And the production of the blasting jelly?”
Zuko shuffled through the pages. “Slow moving due to its volatility. The producers are hesitant to rush the practice or alter the formula. Still, they should catch up by the completion of the vessel.”
His father steepled his fingers. “Fair enough. Check back in with the overseer in three weeks time. You will report your findings to the Ministry of Development when we convene at the end of the week.” Zuko dipped his head. “It could have been sooner, but your mother has taken it upon herself to plan a trip to Ember Island," his father said and Zuko thought he saw him roll his eyes. "The Princess will be attending as well." His golden gaze flickered up to meet Zuko's and for a heartbeat, he looked amused.
It had been three years since they had last visited Ember Island. The Phoenix Queen adored the island's plays and musical productions, though Zuko was fairly certain that no one else shared her high regard. His mother had...weird tastes.
Glancing at his father's desk, Zuko caught a glimpse at a thick volume. It seemed new, its pages white and its binding tight. He furrowed his brow at the title: The Phoenix Revolution. That was the name given to the events that had put Ozai on the throne. They had occurred twenty years ago, ending with the death of the Traitor Iroh and the disappearance (presumed death) of his three year old son.
"That author is a sensationalist and an Iroh supporter," his father growled, following his son’s gaze. He tossed the book carelessly to Zuko. "It won't be published outside of this one volume."
The Department of Education, of which his father was the head) was responsible for analyzing books that would be issued to the public. Zuko figured that such a sensitive topic would have to be reviewed personally by the Phoenix King before it could be sent out. He bowed and thanked his father before leaving the room.
Flipping through the book, Zuko noticed that the very first pages had portraits and short biographies of the important figures during the revolution. Azulon had been Zuko's grandfather, his death being the catalyst for the events. In his portrait, the man was tall and lean, with the same angular features that Zuko had inherited from his father. For most of his life he had been an extremely intelligent and formidable man, and he had achieved great success in expanding the Fire Nation’s efforts. He had gone half mad by the time of his death, nearly undoing the progress his early reign had made.
Just beneath his section was that of the Traitor, Iroh. In his portrait was a tall young woman who must've been his wife and a very young smiling boy. Iroh had been shorter and heavier than his brother, and much older. There were almost twenty years between them. Zuko’s grandmother Ilah had surprised the entire nation when she gave birth to a second son long outside of her childbearing years. Iroh had been a man grown, traveling the world as the Crown Prince. Zuko read that he had gotten the idea of disbanding the nations while studying at the University of Ba Sing Se.
Zuko wrinkled his nose. Who could ever imagine disbanding the kingdoms and weakening the glory of the Fire Nation? He continued reading. Iroh had only one child, a boy who had been three years old when he disappeared. His name had been Lu-Ten. The portrait depicted him as a happy child with features that suggested he would have looked more similar to Zuko’s own father and grandfather.
The boy was long dead by now, Zuko thought. He tried to imagine what the boy- his cousin- would have been like had things gone differently. He could certainly understand why his father had disposed of him. Any potential challenger would have put unnecessary strain on the early years of his reign. It was hard to imagine his father as a kin slayer. By no means was he a father that readily offered hugs or compliments, but he had a strict sense of honor. That sense of honor meant slaying his own flesh and blood, though he was far from the first of the Fire Lords to do so. If he had adopted the boy instead, he could have molded him to be completely obedient. After all, he had barely been three- malleable and with poor ability to formulate memories. Perhaps he would've taken a place as an older brother to Zuko and Azula. Perhaps he would have golden eyes and a severe frown, and perhaps he would've been tall and handsome, and an expert firebender. He wouldn't be a prodigy like Azula. He would've been a prince trying to redeem his name and cleanse his traitor blood.
A role model for those with poor blood and high honor.
Zuko thought about it as he found an alcove to sit in. He drew his legs in, flipped the page of the book, and began to read.
He was stumbled upon by Azula, though he knew it was no mistake. Azula did not “stumble” upon anything; she had intentionally sought him out for one purpose or another. She stood in front of him, her hands on her hips, lips pursed.
The Crown Prince sighed. “What do you want, Azula?” He set the book down and his sister immediately snatched it up. “I was reading that!”
Azula thumbed through the volume, stopping to study the portraits of their kin long past. “I wanted to ask you about the inspection, but I see you were reading this rubbish . Father should have this man beheaded for having the gall to write this trash. It’s all lies, Zuzu, every bit of it.” She tossed the book into the air and with two pointed fingers shot out a bolt of bright blue fire. The book caught flame, burning to ashes at their feet within seconds.
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know that! I just wanted to read it.” He exhaled through his nose. “The inspection went fine. Father was satisfied with the way things were going. I suggested opening another mill, but he shot the idea down. It would have expedited things.”
His sister seemed annoyed. “Personally I don’t understand why Father put you in charge of monitoring things. I would push them as hard as they could so the ship could get to the North Pole as soon as possible.” A smirk appeared. “Imagine their horror when they see their ice palaces going up in flames.”
“You’re sick.” Zuko rose and set off down the hall with his sister at his shoulder, completely behind him. “And Dad is letting me lead it because, if you’ve forgotten, I’m the heir apparent.” Of course she hadn’t forgotten. Azula had always reminded him that she was the prodigy. She had simply had the misfortune of being the second born. “Have you checked on Yue?”
Azula snorted. “Why would I? She can rot in that room for all I care. It’s bad enough that Mother is dragging us all to Ember Island.” She picked a piece of lint from Zuko’s collar with deft fingers. “The only joy to come out of the ordeal is that we can stay at the beach house.”
“I guess,” Zuko grunted and flicked a speck of ash from his sleeve, imagining it was the ghost of his traitorous uncle burned away at last.
Chapter 27: A Flower in Bloom
Chapter Text
Katara
The world around her was burning. She could hear her wife and their young children screaming inside of their house, their fists banging against the windows as they watched her. They are pleading, begging, sobbing her name. Her wife wails, voice growing weaker from the strain on her lungs.
She waved a hand at them, commanding them to stay inside. She turned back to her burning city, the smoke billowing black and hot. She opened her hands.
"Why?" She cried and the man whose hands controlled the flames looked down at her. "Why are you doing this?"
"It is simply the way things must be," he said, unbothered by the intense heat swirling around them. "It is nothing personal, dear friend." He gleamed gold and red against the black smoke. "Surely you understand this."
She did not. She lunged at the man, her hands grasping for his milk-colored throat. He pushed her aside and caught her wrist, his eyes meeting hers. Surely, surely, she thought, that this was not meant to be. “You’re going to upset the balance of the world for what? For a power that might not even exist?!”
He bent her arm and she crumbled, kowtowing before him. Her nose brushed the tips of his shoes and when she raised her head, she saw the sharp outline of his features. From this angle, he was not the man she had known. He was no longer the friend who had shared her secrets, whose sleeve she had reached for when they were nervous children.
"Please," she begged, "spare my wife. Spare my children."
"Of course," he told her. "What do you take me for, a monster?"
And he ended her.
.
She was in a land of many faces. Some were familiar, she had seen some in her dreams. Others were blurred and distorted by time, melting into each other. The people before her greeted her with open arms, pulling her into them. She was just one more of them, one more who had tried. Some had succeeded and others had failed. Their destiny was an impossible one. The fulcrum rarely balanced for long.
"Your work is not done," they said. "Our work is not done. We must begin again." She did not protest and the world went black then white, then gray, and then white again.
.
She could hear screaming, though it sounded muffled and far away. She was being forced through a tunnel of darkness, and though she fought against it, her efforts were in vain.
The world around her was much colder, and brighter. She screamed, grasping for something tangible. She could hear rejoicing as warm, loving hands hoisted her into the air. This is love, she thought- no, she remembered . This is love, and she wondered how she could ever have forgotten.
.
The world around her was white and gray, and cold.
She trudged on, her legs feeling weighted and slow. She was arthritic and sore, her joints no longer permitting her the easy, free, movement that her people were known for. Perhaps, she thought, it was the Universe punishing her at long last. It had waited until she was old and tired, and had given her a heaping serving of karma in exchange for her failure.
The wind howled around her, sending a chill that clawed its way through her skin and made a nest in her bones. She went on.
The boreal forest, its coniferous trees seeming to watch her as she trekked, occasionally gave way to clearings and there she stopped and rested. She meditated, but it brought her no peace. She sang and hummed, and she shouted to the heavens in hopes that the wind would carry her apology to the far corners of the earth. She was ninety-eight years old and she had failed to do as she was destined to. The Universe had given her a blessing and it had become a curse.
At one point, she met a tribe of hunters. They did not recognize her, as she had expected, but they had shown her kindness. They gave her warm soup and she thanked them, and over the fire, she admitted to her transgressions.
She admitted to being a coward. She always had been. When her people fell, she ran. As the nations toppled and kneeled, she ran. She ran from all the responsibilities. She had always ran. And now, finally, she stopped.
At dawn, she left the tribe. She continued for four nights and three days, and on the fourth night, her legs did not allow her to run.
And there, on the frigid plains, she kneeled. She kowtowed before the great mountains of ice and stone, facing the north and the sea. And there, with her nose pressed to ground, shivering, she died.
.
Katara blinked once, twice, and then three times before her eyes opened. Her body ached, and her tongue couldn't settle in her mouth. She felt sluggish and tense, though she registered the smell of brewing oolong tea. It wafted throughout the room, which was windowless and made of aged wood. It occurred to Katara that she was lying on a futon. "W-where am I?" She slurred. Her body refused to follow the commands of her mind, her arms and legs leaden.
"Not the place you wanna be," a woman replied, appearing in her line of sight. In her hands she held a tea cup. "Get up, kid, and drink this."
The woman looked vaguely familiar, with her dark hair and clothes. She knelt before Katara, her nostrils flared. After a heartbeat, with a snort of exasperation she grabbed the waterbender's wrist and hauled her upright, shoving the cup in her hands. "I'm Jun, by the way."
Katara put the name to the face. Jun, the bounty hunter. She held the cup unsteadily. She dared to take a sip and the tea warmed her throat and then her core, revitalizing her exhausted limbs. "Where are we? And how did I get here?”
"The Dancing Lady Inn," Jun said shortly. She straightened and Katara watched her as she moved about the tiny room, her boots thumping against the wooden floor. Her movements were agitated, restless, and her eyes never lingered in one placed for too long. "Though I have yet to see any dancing ladies." She glanced back at Katara. "We are not in Terusan, before you ask."
At that, the princess lurched to her feet. "What?! Why?! What happened?" The last few moments of her memories came flooding back to her. They had been surrounded by earthbenders, Pipsqueak’s body had seeped blood on the floor. Jet had been at her back, slashing at the guards as they came close. "What about Jet and the others?"
The dark haired bounty hunter sniffed. "I am going to assume you mean the idiots that thought they could pull a fast one on the king. Dead or arrested, it depends on how lucky they got. You , kid, got very lucky. It so happened that I turned around just as the walls began to crumble. The Jade Throne almost collapsed into rubble because of you. After all of that, we had to get away as fast as possible." She has turned away again, lazily playing with a knife that she had drawn from her belt, "you must be a late bloomer."
"Excuse me?!"
Jun rolled her eyes. "Don't get all tangled up, Blue Eyes. I meant you're a late bloomer with your bending. I’ll admit it was pretty impressive. Not the prettiest or most concise but it was effective.When I heard all the commotion in the audience room, I saw you in the middle of it. Nyla paralyzed you before you could kill us all. " She rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry about that."
Katara furrowed her brows. She wasn't sure what a "Nyla" was, but the details didn't matter at the moment. "I'm a waterbender, what are you talking about?"
The room seemed to deaden. Jun turned slowly on her heel, her jaw set. Katara could see her eyes widen and she cursed once, quietly, and then louder. "What did you say?"
"I said, I'm a waterbender. And I have been since I was a little girl. “ Katara set her hands in her lap, trying to wrap her head around the information that was just given to her. She was no longer in Terusan. The people she had begun to consider as her friends were either dead or arrested. She was no longer in Terusan.
She was not on the way home.
Somehow, someway, she had caused the audience room to collapse. She reached for the sapphire, which somehow had remained with her, and rubbed her fingers over it. It was real, which meant that everything that had happened was real. Katara remembered waterbending, and she remembered the desperation and the fear. Not just for her own life, but for the others.
Jun sat heavily.
For an endless moment, she did not speak. Her dark eyes flitted up to Katara's and danced away. She opened her mouth and closed it again, like a fish. "You said you were a princess, right?" She said at last.
"Yes," Katara replied.
“And your father was killed by the Phoenix King.”
“…yes. Why are you asking all of this?”
Jun shook her head incredulously. "And how old are you?"
Katara raised a brow. "I'm fourteen."
The bounty hunter stared at her and then laughed, low and without humor. "Congratulations, Blue Eyes," she said, "you're the world's divine medium."
"I...I'm not sure I understand," Katara whispered and her ears began to ring. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jun's gaze hardened and she slid to her feet. "You're the Avatar, kid. Sorry to break it to you. I’ve never heard of a Tribesman being an earthbender. Unless they’re mixed, but you're a full blooded Tribesman.” She crossed the room and opened the door, which Katara saw led to outside. It was twilight. She could see a fenced yard. Jun made a cooing noise and a large brown and black snout appeared.
Katara sat for a moment, her thumbs twiddling in fretful circles. None of it made sense. She was a waterbender and only a waterbender, and if she was the Avatar then surely someone would have told her before.
There would've signs, she thought. She would've realized years ago. Her father would've realized when she was young, when she was a baby. They would’ve done something . None of it made sense. Her father was too honorable to lie about something so…so…so… important.
She considered the dream she had just before she woke up. The memories were not her own, though they felt familiar. The thought of it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She realized she was shaking. Katara stilled her trembling hands and took a sip of the tea.
Katara was dimly aware of Jun leaving the room, pulling the door closed behind her. She finished her tea and set the cup down, pushing herself to her feet. They were only slightly unsteady, Katara guessed it was the side effects of being temporarily paralyzed.
The place was square, and had no dividers between kitchenette and living space. It was barely larger than her wardrobe back home. Then she remembered that her wardrobe was designed for a princess. The main area only had two futons, one of which she had been lying on, and a bare shelf, as well as a small wood heated stove and single cabinet mounted on the wall above it. It was a sorry place, Katara thought, but she was grateful. It didn’t compare to the treehouse she had camped in with Jet, but it was his presence that had made it bearable. Her eyes stung. Where was he now? Did he manage to escape? Did she kill him? Like the firebenders when she capsized the ship…had she added more lives to that number?
It was justified, her mind argued. They were going to take her to the Fire Nation. And it was only a matter of time before one of them grew tired of the teasing and tried something when Zhao turned a blind eye.
Zhao.
She should have killed him when she had the chance. She should have waited and then taken him down with the ship as well.
If she had known what would become of her, of her father, of her home…Katara would have ended him the moment he stepped foot in the snow with his stupid pointy toed boots.
Katara reeled in disgust at her thoughts. She had never been inclined to violence, never. Like the rest of her family, she had been both blessed and cursed with a flaring temper but even her father had never been a violent man. Except in battle. When she had been ten years old, he had gone away with his warriors for a month to deal with a band of rogues that had been terrorizing the city of Snowmont in the western interior. He had returned bloodstained and red-eyed and that was when Katara learned what it meant to be a Polar Bear Dog.
A warrior. A protector.
She forced her mind to not stray as she set about cleaning out the old spices that had been stocked in the cabinet. Whoever ran the Dancing Lady Inn was well-intentioned but careless. She hummed an old Water Tribe hymn that reminded her of the south and her father, and tears threatened to spring forth at the thought of him.
Instead she sung another song, whose words had never crossed her lips before, but they came without thought. It warmed her blood and her bones, and to her it felt like home.
Jun returned some time later, carrying a small tray. On it was bread, a vegetable stew, and mangoes cut into thick chunks. Jun passed the plate to Katara. "Help yourself."
Katara thanked the bounty hunter, and then thanked her again as she took a piece of bread and fruit. She hadn’t realized how hungry she had been. "You said we aren't in Terusan...where are we, exactly?"
The dark haired woman snorted. "Still in Banka-Kadi. There's a real nice bounty out here for a thief." She sat on the floor, the tail of her skirt fluttering. "Figured if I'm all the way out here, might as well make the most out of it." She opened her hand and Katara passed her a piece of rice bread. "We're leaving tomorrow morning."
"Where are we going?" Katara asked and the woman's dark brows rose.
"You," she replied, "are going to the Eastern Air Temple. It's a bit out of the way, but I reckon the airbenders pay out handsomely if you give them the Avatar. You know, with their enlightenment and spirituality and whatnot. If I recall correctly then the last Avatar was one of them” Jun went on, "they’ll know what to do with you more than I do."
"The Eastern Air Temple?!" Katara frowned. "I can't go there! I have to get back home! And I'm not the Avatar!"
Jun stared at her dispassionately and Katara steeled herself to keep from squirming under the woman's gaze. "Listen, Blue Eyes, how long are you gonna deny it?"
Katara threw her hands up and for a heartbeat, the ground felt unsteady. "Forever, because it's not true! I need to go home. My family needs me!”
The bounty hunter shrugged. "Y'know, kid, I've never been particularly interested in the ways of gods and men," she said. "Except of course when they need my assistance, to which I will happily oblige for the right price." She took a bite of bread, chewed, swallowed and went on, "Maybe you aren't the Avatar. Maybe I imagined the whole thing. But you see, Blue Eyes, I am an opportunist."
"And based on the slim possibility that you are both the Avatar and the princess of the Water Tribe," Jun took a chunk of mango and popped it in her mouth. "I'd be a fool."
Katara huffed. "You're pursuing the impossible."
Jun smirked, her red lips turned up. "I did say I’m an opportunist, it's just what I do."
“What you are,” Katara raged, “is a jerk! A delusional jerk!”
“Maybe.”
Katara reached for the tray and hurled it at the woman, using the precious seconds of her surprise to bolt for the door that led into the yard. She ran blindly through the grass towards the fence, crying out when she heard the lumbering beast coming at her. Its tongue flicked out, missing her by a hair. She reached the fence, throwing her body up and forward to scrabble for a hold on the unsteady wood. Not for the first time she was grateful that she had been allowed to train with her brother and the other boys her age. She slung one leg up and over and prepared to somersault over.
A cold hand wrapped around her ankle, yanking her back. Katara tumbled backwards and landed roughly with a rock in her spine, staring up at the smoldering gaze of the bounty hunter. Jun hauled her to her feet and shoved her, hard. “You idiot! Are you stupid? You don’t even know where you are! And right now you are wanted. In case you’ve forgotten, you attacked the monarchs of a kingdom. The King of Banka-Kadi wants your head, and if you leave this place alone you’re going to serve it up to him on a platter.”
Katara pulled away, searching and failing to find a source of water. Jun fumed, her hands gripping Katara’s wrist and shaking her so violently that her head jerked back. “Stop being stupid,” she snapped, “and actually listen . If you go to the Eastern Air Temple, they can at least camouflage you from the Fire Nation some way or another. Sure they poke in regularly, but the airbenders are kneelers, not idiots. If you blunder around like a lost antelopuppy, you’ll cause unnecessary attention to yourself. You’ll put your entire Tribe in even more danger.”
Her heart panged at the thought of Sokka and Gran-Gran. She thought of Yue, trapped and at the mercy of the Phoenix King. She raised her eyes to look at Jun and nodded.
Chapter 28: Mama’s Boy
Chapter Text
Hahn
Hahn sipped his soup and tried his best to drown out Squid's incessant talking. Not for the first time, he wondered why the boy had decided to latch onto him of all people. From where he sat in the mess hall, he could watch from the window as several men began herding buffalo-yak across the camp, hitching covered wagons to their harnesses.
"What's going on?" Hahn asked, gesturing to the scene outside and Squid paused long enough to shake his head. Hahn turned his attention to the wagons, seeing they were loaded with large crates. After their fiasco in the Far North, the Chief Commander had assigned them to lighter duties. A fact that Hahn wasn’t sure he could appreciate. He downed the rest of the soup, leaving the bowl at the table, and sprang to his feet. Hahn hurried outside. Beckoning to one of the younger men near the wagons, calling him over.
"What, Three?" The man snapped, grinning as he did so. He was a man with pale blue eyes and jet black hair twisted in beaded locs.
Hahn jerked his head toward the wagons and the man, whose name on the Wall was simply Chewy. Hahn didn't know where the nickname came from, nor was he particularly inclined to ask. "Over there, what are all those wagons for?"
Chewy snorted. "It's harvested ice going down into the capital. If it were up to me, you could come along. Even you, Squid, though you're about as crazy as a snake-bat." Hahn turned to see that Squid had joined them, quiet as a ghost. Chewy looked over his shoulder. "Aye but Piku's in charge this time. He's a by the book man, that one."
"There are no rules in the Land of the Ice That Never Melts," Hahn quoted. "So technically there is no way he can be by the book."
"Piku was a warrior, back before he came here," Chewy said. “He did something that irritated the wrong person and he got banished up here. He wasn't always so..." he flicked his wrist. "An encounter with foul-things really...it changes a man."
"We know." Squid was uncharacteristically somber. Hahn knew that he was remembering Piqatok the messenger, and their brief trip into the realm of spirits. They had told the Chief Commander, and he seemed more concerned about it than they were. It had not stopped his excursions into the Far North, though the ranging parties were smaller. "But y'know, I say we go, Three." He nudged him hard in the side, "there ain't no rules, remember?"
Hahn stole a glance at Chewy, who made a show of whistling and looking at the sky. Hahn rushed back to the barracks and grabbed his nicer anorak, tugging it on as he jogged back to the man waiting for them. Squid joined him, pausing to pull back his hair into a tighter knot. Hahn always imagined the boy to spend a lot of time on his hair and face, which was still childishly smooth without so much as a shadow of hair. Hahn couldn't imagine why someone would want to look like a prepubescent child, but he wasn't one to judge.
They followed Chewy to the last wagon, which was guarded by two heavily scarred waterbenders. They were short men, but beefy, and Hahn doubted he could take them on even if he tried. At least, not at the same time. One on one, he figured, and his odds improved.
Squid playfully punched the waterbenders on their chest, and they brushed the puny pretty boy off. Hahn sometimes found himself forgetting that Squid had spent three years on the Ice Wall, long enough to make bonds with the men. They all seemed to at least tolerate him, maybe out of fear of his mercurial nature. "You were gonna leave me here, weren't you?" He laughed as he crawled up on top of the crates, planting himself firmly in the middle. "If Piku wants me off, he'll have to get me."
"The Chief Commander will get you," One of the waterbenders urged.
The boy scoffed. "And what's the worst he could do? I've faced the worst, yeah! What could he do that I haven't already seen? Send me into the Land? Make me face a foul-thing? Beat me?"
For a heartbeat, just a tiny fraction of a second, Hahn saw Squid's gaze darken with what he could only imagine was fear. Perhaps not at the Chief Commander, but at something else. Hahn remembered that Squid had murdered his father.
Hahn was many things- he was dashingly handsome, for one- but dense was not one of them. His own father had loved him as much as any man could love a third son, but he knew that was not always the case for other families. He tried to imagine Squid as a child, perhaps still small and annoying, with big eyes and fast feet to avoid big fists. Perhaps he was a little boy who nursed his bruises and bided his time.
Hahn's mother would've never allowed his father to beat him, or his brothers. She was a demure woman, like Northern women tended to be, but she had never allowed anyone to raise their hand to them. Nothing was particularly interesting about his mother.
"Hey, Three, get up here with me." Squid grabbed Hahn's sleeve and strained, flopping back on top of the crates when Hahn was too heavy to lift. "Or maybe just walk. You might crush the ice."
"You might, too, so stop wiggling around up there!" Chewy snapped. "If you fall off and break your neck, good riddance to you. You'd probably die laughing."
Squid giggled.
The caravan of wagons began to move. Hahn planted one foot on the edge of the cart and pulled himself up, gripping the rope holding the crates in place. He could see Piku, all the way at the front of the line, swaying as his buffalo-yak trotted forward. It occurred to Hahn that this would be the first time he had left the Ice Wall in the opposite direction of the Far North. The road back to the capital- the road back home- seemed unfamiliar now.
"How does the capital distribute all the ice?" Hahn asked, peering into one of the crates. The blocks of ice inside glimmered white and silver and purple, folded into sharp cubes by waterbenders. A shiver coursed through him as he recalled its purpose. The foul-things were bold and hungry. “I’ve never seen it a day in my life before I came up here."
Chewy plodded alongside the wagon on his own buffalo-yak, whip in hand to keep the beasts moving. He scowled at Hahn, prompting the younger man to move his hand away from the crate. "Right now only the wealthiest. They’re the ones funding the trips.The more we harvest, the more funding we get. More weapons, supplies, food..all that. You really ain’t ever seen anybody wearing it?”
Hahn shook his head. Perhaps he had never noticed.
"I imagine the rest of the plebs will get their share soon enough, gotta protect every man, woman, and child," the older man said. "Aye, but the Chief Commander won't let us wear it, and we're the ones risking our souls."
"You believe that?" Squid asked.
Chewy lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "Ain't nobody told me otherwise. And besides, the Chief Commander heard me say it and he didn't deny it."
It was as good an answer as any, Hahn figured, and they were silent for a while. It sounded like Tonraq, who wore an amulet around his neck. No one spoke. Not even Squid, who had lain back on top of the crates. Hahn could see his foot tapping to a beat that only he could hear. The wagons rocked and dipped over the road and the Ice Wall began to fade from view.
"You going to visit your parents, Three?" Chewy asked, smirking. "It's been so long since they've seen their little third son."
Hahn rolled his eyes, and then paused. He could surprise them, he thought, and show Hasook and Nilu that he was the best of them all. He was a man who supped with murderers and explored with thieves. He had seen foul-things . Hasook and Nilu couldn't say they had ever done anything like that.
Before he could reply, Squid sat upright. "I might," he said. "Maybe go to the ocean where they pushed my father out to sea and spit in the water." He snorted and the dark glare returned to his eyes. "But it'd be an insult to La."
"I'm sure the ocean god would understand," Chewy replied with a tone Hahn had not expected and the pretty-faced murderer guffawed. "What about your mother? Or did you slit her throat, too?"
Squid shook his head. "Last I heard, she'd gotten remarried. As long as he's not like the last one." He kicked his feet and Hahn saw his knuckles whiten as he clenched his fists. "Aye, can you imagine if the old bastard was on the Ice Wall, too?”
"They don't send wife-beaters to the Ice Wall, stupid, only rapists, thieves, and murderers.” Chewy retorted. “There’s still some bastards that think wife-beating is a civil right. I wish a bastard would lay a hand on my sister.” He turned to Hahn. "You ever see your mother with bruises, Three?"
Hahn shook his head. His parents had always loved each other.
"What'd you expect from him? He's never had a hard day in his life. I might be pretty, but Three’s the one with soft hands.” Squid grinned down at him with fanged teeth, "Hey though, Three, you want to come with me to see my mother?"
"I don't see why not," Hahn said. Maybe Squid had fine sisters who weren't crazy, and maybe they had some perks about them. It had been months since Hahn had last seen a girl that wasn’t just in his dreams. He caught Chewy's wary glance and set his jaw.
The highest tier of the capital rose shimmering on the horizon. Hahn wondered if it had always been so bright or if months away had just faded the memory. He heaved himself up onto the crates next to Squid as the caravan rolled down into the city, its elegant canals and structures stretching out before them. As civilization appeared, Hahn found himself feeling painfully out of the loop.
The men and the women had not changed, he knew they hadn't. The women still wore bright blue furs and complex braids, and the men still carried clubs and donned beaded locs. The styles and fads had changed, though. He no longer saw anoraks lined with white fur, and many high class women had traded their expensive combs for simple beads. Hahn saw grim faces.
Squid leapt down from the wagon and Hahn followed, glancing down at his clothes. They weren't really his; they'd been passed to him by his comrades. His pants had a hole wearing through the knee and his parka, despite being his nicest, was shabby. "Come on!"
Hahn trailed after the older boy as Squid slid alongside the canals, crossing a bridge carved with glacial violets. Gondalas drifted lazily beneath them. Hahn caught the nostalgic smell of roasted meat rising from a chimney of a boarding house. He glanced at Squid, wondering if his mouth was watering as well.
The smaller boy ducked into an alleyway between two tenement buildings. Hahn turned the corner just in time to see him scrambling up onto a window sill, pushing aside the thick curtains that shielded the inside away from the elements.
He's absolutely insane . Hahn made move to snatch the boy back, but before he could call out, the window's curtain was drawn away. Despite himself, Hahn held his breath.
Standing in the window was a woman loosely holding the material of a coat she'd been mending. She stared at Squid and then she shook her head. "Should I be worried or ashamed?"
"Is your new husband home?" Squid asked, his feet skidding against the ice as he struggled to maintain his hold.
Squid's mother was a thin woman, with weary eyes and a tight mouth. She had a nervous look about her, like a cat who'd discovered that he was walking on thin ice. In another life, Hahn thought, she might've been pretty. She had Squid’s blue green eyes and her hair had once been black like his. "No. Are you going to get in trouble? If they catch you here?”
Squid launched himself through the window and his mother opened her arms, embracing him. She stroked his hair and the boy melted into her arms. "Only if I'm caught." He turned and gestured for Hahn to climb in the window after him. "That's Three," he said as Hahn smoothed his parka and dipped respectfully to the woman. "Don't worry, he's not a thief or a murderer. He's at the Wall to "build character". That’s a new one. Three, this is my mother."
The woman smiled in earnest and Hahn saw that Squid had taken after his mother, with the same gap between their front teeth. "Hello...Three. Please, come inside. I’ll bring you both some tea.”
Hahn watched as Squid slid throughout the room, which was round and painted a light violet. The boy brushed his fingers along the arms of a chair sitting near the window, winding his fingers around a loose thread in the upholstery. “I used to hide behind this chair. Right there, in that spot you’re standing in, that’s where I sliced him open. If I had been stronger I would have pushed him out the window to hide the evidence. If he’d fallen into the street they might’ve thought he got cut by a mugger . I was scrawnier back then.” His eyes were far away.
Part of Hahn wondered just how awful the man could have been. Plenty of fathers disciplined their sons with the hand or rod. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but he had never heard of such brutality. He heard soft footfalls and Squid’s mother returned with a tray containing two cups of piping hot tea with honey stirrers. Honey was imported from the Earth Kingdoms, and long ago had been a coveted item. One thing to come out of the Fire Nation’s expansionist policies was the lowering of tariffs, thus allowing more luxury items to filter to the lower classes. Hahn accepted the tea gratefully.
Squid took a cup, looking over the rim as he drank.
Squid's mother watched him warily.
"Does he treat you well? He doesn't hit you, does he?" Squid asked suddenly, lowering the tea cup. His stony blue eyes were hard. "I'm not afraid to kill another, I've got nothing to lose. I’m already banished.”
"Tikaani," Squid's mother admonished, wringing her hands. Hahn thought that he shouldn't be witness to such a moment; Squid and his mother's issues were not his to deal with. "Please don't say such things. He treats me wonderfully. Better than I could have ever dreamed of. He doesn’t even desire children. He’s a widower and his children from his first marriage are already grown. I told him I could not have any more and he accepted me all the same.”
Hahn wasn't sure what he imagined Squid's birth name to be, but it hadn't been "Tikaani". Squid only seemed like a Squid.
Squid raised his brows and then acquiesced. "Honestly, though, I've got nothing to lose. I'll be up on the Ice Wall until I'm old and gray. All you have to do is send a letter and I’ll make my way somehow. If he hurts you, I'll see to it. My reflexes are sharper now."
That much was true. Hahn had witnessed that on the first day he'd met him.
His comrade's mother turned to him. "You make sure my baby doesn't get in trouble, don't you?" Beside her, Squid blanched.
Hahn couldn't help but laugh, and Squid scowled. "We should probably be going." Squid mumbled. "I'll be back, hopefully."
Squid's mother nodded. "I suppose you hadn't heard the news," she said and they stared at her. The woman frowned. "Our Tribe is in a time of turmoil with the Fire Nation. The warriors may suit up for war. That’s why everyone is suddenly so austere.”
Hahn raised his brow. "Why?"
"The Princess was kidnapped in a coup that destroyed the royal family of the Southern Water Tribe. The chief was killed and his daughter was stolen away as well. The news going around is that they’re both being held hostage by the Fire Nation and being used as ransom." The woman shook her head sadly. “It’s so terrible. I don’t even want to imagine what they are enduring.” She kissed her son on the top of his head, blinking away tears.
They left the way they had come- through the window. Hahn frowned. His Tribe was gearing up for a potential war, and their Princess was stolen away from them. And yet here he was, forced to mingle with criminals and run away from spirits. Forced to chip away at ice.
Hasook and Nilu came out on top yet again.
"So your real name is Tikano," Hahn said as they walked, and he imagined walking the streets in a warrior's regalia, ready to fight the enemies that had stolen his princess. "Nice name."
"Tikaani," the boy corrected, "and I prefer Squid." He shot a sidelong glance at Hahn. "Don't tell anyone else, alright?"
Hahn nodded. By the time they rejoined the others, he doubted the name would stick in his head. Names were his weak point. "You're a mother's boy? And do you think we'll go to war?"
Squid giggled. "You should know by now. She was the one that got me sent to the Ice Wall, they were going to hang me." He did a little two-step. "It's nice, y'know, to have someone on your side. We might. But then it'll be a war on two fronts. So I doubt it."
One on the Ice Wall and one against the Fire Nation. It was debatable if the situation in the Far North could even be considered a war. At best it was a desperate attempt to stay alive. A mitigation effort.
"If we do, I'm signing up," Hahn declared. "Besides, no one is paying attention to the foul-things. No one cares about a bunch of criminals harvesting ice."
For once, Squid did not laugh. "You still have that as an option, being able to decide when you want to leave." He shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip protruding. "You have something waiting for you on the other side. Must be nice."
"Oh," Hahn said, and relished in the beauty of it, "it is."
He could feel Squid’s gaze hot against his back. For a brief second he wondered if he had made a mistake. It would be nothing for Squid to pierce his throat with an icicle or drown him in the canal. “Your mother seems nice.” He changed the subject. “It was just you and her after…?”
Squid shook his head. “My uncle, her brother, took her in during my trial. You know our women don’t have much anyway, but my father didn’t allow her to have any income of her own. You see how mousy she is, like a snowy dormouse. He walked all over her.” Hahn had never seen Squid so sober. “It was alright when I was little. Not exactly happy, but alright. Maybe an argument here or there. Never anything serious.”
Hahn listened as they walked.
“When I was eight, he beat her for the first time. So hard it knocked out one of her teeth. The healers couldn’t fix that. When I was nine-” He cut off abruptly and Hahn chanced a glimpse to see that Squid was bouncing on his toes, blithe as always.
“I’m sorry?”
Squid giggled. “Don’t be. The bastard got what he deserved.” He skipped to catch up with Hahn, pointing to a district square that was several canals over. “Wanna do something stupid?”
Hahn groaned. “I’d rather not.”
Squid had already taken off, clearing one canal with a leap that Hahn could only hope to replicate. The boy’s athleticism never failed to surprise him. Hahn chose to stick to the sidewalk, running alongside the water until he crossed a bridge over two canals. Squid was waiting for him with his wolfish smirk. “How much you wanna bet I can cut some purses?” He reached up and pulled his hair loose from his wolf tail. It tumbled down his back, thick and curly.
“Squid, no!” Hahn exclaimed. He slapped his forehead as the boy dove into the crowd. He certainly was not going to follow. Hahn plopped down on the sidewalk, holding his head in his hands. “Spirits, you dumb, impulsive, patricidal bastard.”
It seemed like only seconds later that Squid returned with his loot. A purse cut from a woman’s shoulder, weighted down with coins and in the other hand he held a necklace that glinted like glass. Hahn stifled his gasp. It was an ice amulet, elaborately crafted into the shape of a koi fish. It was hung from a silver chain. Priceless in more ways than one. “Squid, you idiot. You’re going to get your hand cut off. Or your head!” Hahn hissed through his teeth. “Why’d you do that?!”
The boy said nothing, tucking his prizes into the pocket of his anorak in order to tie his hair back into the warrior wolf tail. “Because I thought about what Chewy said. We’re the ones out there putting our lives in danger and we don’t even get the protection for it. Except for Tonraq.” His tone was playful but his words were bitter. “We’re risking our lives to save an ungrateful bunch. We might as well save ourselves while we’re at it.”
Chapter 29: Ember Island
Chapter Text
Yue
The last time Yue had been on a boat, she had just witnessed Hakoda's murder. She had been afraid, and sad. The voyage had been long. Now the ferry carried her away from the Fire Nation palace to the resort destination, and she found that she was more curious than afraid. The sun beamed down on her skin.
It was only a brief ride to the resort island; a little less than two hours. The waters between the caldera and Ember Island were clear, and she dared to think that she could see fish as their vessel cut through the water. She wondered if Katara had seen this view of the ocean, so vast and endless, and realized her power before she capsized the ship. Not for the first time, Yue wished she was a waterbender.
Ursa stood beside her, her dark hair tied down in a simple braid. Yue found that she was used to seeing the queen's elaborate topknots. This new style was unbecoming of her in a sense. She seemed painfully average, undeserving of the ostentatious title of "Phoenix Queen". Ursa caught her gaze and smiled warmly. "When we arrive, Azula and her friends will help you settle in. You've never been to the beach, have you?"
"There's no sand in the North Pole, my lady."
The queen laughed softly and prettily. "Oh, yes," she said, "I seem to have forgotten." Her hands rested on the railing, knuckles tinged white. "I planned this trip for my husband, you know," she said to Yue. "He gets so wrapped up in his grand ideas and studies and the matters of ruling that I would dare say he does not know how to have fun. He has always been so...straightforward. Very rarely does he allow himself to relax. That is the way with kings, you know, they are never at ease."
Yue figured that the Phoenix King had every reason to be at ease. He was a man with the world under his thumb. At the same time, she could not imagine the man caring to enjoy the beach in any case. "You must care for him very much."
"Twenty one years," Ursa nodded wistfully. "Back when he was a spare prince. I have stood by him when he was nothing, and now he is everything." She cast a glance at Yue. "No one can say that I am not a loving, dutiful wife."
Yue shook her head. “Not at all, Your Highness.” From what she had seen Ursa was a woman who excelled at being a queen, as if she had been born into the role. "How did you meet him? The Phoenix King, I mean." She leaned forward, letting the water spray her skin. Her hair threatened to spring loose from her two braids held in place by her comb. She tried to imagine if it had been a love story, like the ones she loved to hear about.
The Phoenix Queen smirked. "The way all noble women meet their husbands- through arrangement. A lucky woman will find happiness in such a thing. You know how the life must go for a noblewoman, especially a princess."
That she did. Yue had always known that she would never be able to marry a man that her father hadn't approved of. She had been betrothed once, as a very young child, but the match had been set aside just as quickly when it was no longer advantageous. "And Azula? Will she have an arranged marriage, too?"
Ursa's expression soured. "Any man my daughter marries will have to sleep with one eye open. If he crosses her even once, I have no doubt she would burn him alive." She strode away from the railing and into the ferry's gathering area, where there were cushioned benches. She sat and invited Yue to settle beside her. "That child has too much of the worst of us."
Yue wasn't sure she understood but she nodded anyway. Azula wasn't too terrible, she thought, once she got used to the younger girl’s personality. She had long since gotten accustomed to the barbed comments that the Fire Nation princess lobbed at her, allowing them to go over her head. A princess takes dignity in all things. Katara and Azula were two sides of the same coin, where Azula’s passion and temper had been nearly folded into perfection, Katara’s was a maelstrom. Surely, Yue thought to herself, one of them would have been dead by now if Katara had ever made it to the caldera.
The ferry's horn gave out one long blast. Yue leapt to her feet as Zuko and Azula, the Phoenix Queen's children, appeared from the next cabin over. Zuko bowed to his mother and Azula gave a stiff nod in the woman's direction. Behind them trailed Mai and Ty Lee, Azula's companions.
Yue had yet to interact much with the girls, besides a cordial greeting and small meaningless conversation. Mai, she knew, was somber to the point of apathy. Her eyes were narrow and yellow, and angry. Ty Lee, on the other hand, had gray dancing eyes that were just as expressive as her overwhelmingly exuberant. The same gray, Yue had realized with initial horror, as the gray eyed firebender from the ship. She had wondered why it had taken her so long to put the two together. Ty Lee so far had been nothing but kind.
Ty Lee swept forward, her brown braid tucked over her shoulder. She put both hands on Yue's arms, grinning. "Oh you're going to have so much fun on Ember Island! Trust me!"
"Stand down, Ty Lee," Mai said drily. “You’re scaring her.”
Yue smiled and prayed it met her eyes. The ferry's horn blew once more to announce their arrival. The bells began to chime. Once, twice, and then once more. The floor lurched as the ferry was brought to a halt at the pier.
Welcome to Ember Island, Yue thought.
Ursa led her brood of noble blooded children back onto the deck. Yue could see the beach in all its glory, with a vast expanse of beige sand and the endless cerulean sea. The spread of buildings behind it were burgundy and brown, raised on stilts holding them up out of the sand. She could see sun-tanned people playing with a ball, launching it at each other over the net. Others were sparring, their fists and feet flashing with flame.
Yue admired it. There was nothing like it in the North Pole, where the frigid temperatures would never support a beach of this sort. Even though she was nothing more than a glorified prisoner, Yue tried to imagine what it would've been like if she had never seen a beach. She felt as though she would have been lacking a vital experience. Perhaps when- if - she returned home, she would try to explain it to Kuruk. He would delight in it.
A horde of servants began hauling their luggage down the ramp, onto a waiting cart. Two rickshaws had been set up for them and a man was standing near them, holding what appeared to be a tray of fresh fruit.
The ramp landed on the dock with a clang. Ursa, joined by the Phoenix King- who had seemed to materialize from thin air- descended the ramp and moved towards the rickshaw.
The second rickshaw was designated for the five teenagers. Azula climbed in first and Yue followed, pressed in beside Ty Lee. Zuko and Mai sat across from them, both of their shoulders in a straight line.
"We're going to play kuai ball." Azula announced, and it was not a suggestion. Her golden gaze slid over to Yue and her lips pursed. Yue realized she was looking at her arms, which were not nearly as strong or toned as Azula's. Or Zuko's. Or Ty Lee's. She had seen Azula and Zuko spar, a clash of blue and golden flames. It had been a vicious and beautiful sight. Azula was the better of the two, a clear, refined, prodigy where Zuko seemed to fight with almost a sense of desperation. They were both formidable and Yue mourned for whatever poor soul that would incur their wrath.
The rickshaw transported them to the magnificent villa that Zuko explained had belonged to their family for almost two hundred years. It had been renovated each generation. A servant guided them inside, which was spacious and adorned in dark wood. The man led them to their rooms, which were situated on the left wing of the villa.
Yue's room overlooked the beach and the ocean, and she wondered if the setup had been intended to be some cruel jab at her situation. She stood in the middle of the room, the walls brown and gold and red. Despite the coloring, it was not dark or oppressive. The windows allowed for much sunlight. The drawers had been filled with clothes that were not her own. Yue went to the window and sat on the sill, peering out at the beige sand and astonishingly clear water. She realized that she had grown used to seeing the gardens beneath her window, the same way she had grown used to seeing the moonrise at IcePoint. Some part of her had begrudgingly started to call the caldera "home".
She shed the loose gown she had been wearing and slipped on a burgundy wrapped skirt. Yue found, with some horror, that most of the shirts provided bared her midriff. They could hardly be called shirts at all, she thought and stared at herself in the mirror in the corner of the room.
Her skin seemed warmer and darker, her eyes more vibrant and her hair a gleaming white from being bleached in the Fire Nation sun. Yue thought that she seemed taller, which she could imagine to be true. She was nearing seventeen. By most of the world's standards, she was a woman grown.
"You look so cute!" Ty Lee squealed and burst into the room. Yue jumped, finding Azula and Mai lingering in the doorway. Ty Lee had exchanged her normal attire for a bright pink bikini, while Mai and Azula had chosen skirts and half-shirts identical to Yue’s. "You don't have to play kuai ball, you can sit and tan. We can tan together!"
"I burn." Mai grumbled and Yue saw a large sun hat tucked under her arm.
Yue followed the Fire Nation teenagers out of the villa and across the expanse of sand, feeling it sneak in her sandals. She'd never felt sand before.
They passed a woman selling peeled mangoes. She caught one glance at the crowns glinting on Azula and Zuko's brow and held out several of the fruit. "For our Prince and his friends!" She exclaimed, passing a mango to each of them, though not before sprinkling a spice over them. Ty Lee whispered that it was chili powder.
Azula seethed and bristled. "I am more than just the Prince's friend ," she snapped. She glowered at the fruit vendor, who seemed to shrink into herself. "Do you know who I am?"
"I-I-I'm sorry, Princess Azula!" The fruit vendor dropped into a bow and Yue saw a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face. Yue figured it was not from the Fire Nation heat.
"You're intimidating her, Azula." Zuko said and his sister turned her glare onto him. Yue watched the exchange. There was no Ursa to keep them from going at each other.
"Good," the princess snapped and the mango in her hand went up in blue-tinged, fruity smoke. She tossed the ruined fruit over her shoulder nonchalantly. The blue flames licked at Azula's fingertips before she extinguished them. "Now let's play kuai ball."
Azula claimed a playing circle and net, snarling viciously at the teenagers who voiced their complaints. "If you want your net back, then you'll have to fight for it."
The teenagers on the other side of the net were golden, though not beautiful like the royal siblings. The tallest, a boy with a loose black topknot and tanned arms, gave a self-assured grin. "Wanna bet on it?"
Yue wondered if the boy had taken notice of their golden crowns. Azula and Zuko were two of the richest people in the world, they could bet on anything. She watched as the proud princess threw back her hair and held up her hands. Bright blue flames erupted from them, licking at the net dividing their group and the boy's.
"We shall annihilate you and leave you to weep amongst the ashes of the playing field and to drown in your humiliation!" The golden-eyed princess laughed maniacally and Yue winced.
“Oh, boy.” Mai groaned.
Ty Lee put a hand on Yue's arm. "She thinks he's cute. 'Zula can go...over the top when she thinks someone is cute."
"Ah," Yue breathed, "I see."
The boy, much to his credit, did not flinch or shy away. His smirk widened and his group of friends set themselves in stance to begin the game. He brandished the ball and then took a step back away from the net. In one choreographed move, he launched the ball and the only girl on his side- a girl with dark enough skin to suggest something other than Fire Nation ancestry- sprang into the air, her foot connecting with the ball in an expert spike.
Zuko sprang forward, clasping his hands together. He kept the ball in the air and Azula leapt and spun, using the sole of her foot to send the ball back over the net. Yue could see the competitive snarl twisting the princess's features.
Yue tried to follow the game as best as she could, though after a while everything became a blur. Mai sat in the sand beside her, claiming she was not much of an athlete. "This is boring," the pale girl groaned and Yue couldn't help but agree.
The other team was wearing down, their movements slower and taking more effort to jump and set the ball. One boy, whose hair was long and brown and whose skin was as white as Mai's, had already stumbled and fallen in the sand. His name, Yue had overheard, was Ruon-Jian.
The girl on the other side slid and kicked the ball back into the air, her curly hair coming loose from its topknot. Yue tried to place her ancestry. Her eyes were Fire Nation citrine and her skin closer to the reddish brown shade of clay. Perhaps not all Fire Nationers looked like Azula or Mai or Ty Lee. "Get it, Ruon-Jian!"
In a slow, almost lazy arc, the ball made its way over the net. Zuko cupped his hands and Ty Lee used him to bounce into the air, slapping the ball back towards their rivals. It hit the ground and settled there in the sand.
Azula let out a triumphant cackle. "We are victorious!" She bared her teeth in an imitation of a smile.
"Good game," Zuko murmured and grasped first Ruon-Jian's hand and then Chan's, the radiant leader. "Good game."
Chan flashed a brilliant smile as Yue and Mai rejoined the group. "It was, wasn't it?" He caught Yue's eye and focused on her, setting a hand on his hip. "How would you guys like to hang out with the most important kids in the Fire Nation?"
Zuko and Azula bristled, but Ty Lee giggled. "We already are." She gestured at the royal siblings and then at Yue as an afterthought. "These are the most important. It doesn’t get more important than royalty!”
Chan's jaw dropped and simultaneously he and his companions bowed. His grin returned as he straightened. "The offer still stands."
Their two groups became one and Chan introduced them to his companions. He himself was the son of an Admiral, while Ruon-Jian was the nephew of the governor of Estival Peninsula. The girl with dark skin and yellow eyes was named Naoki, the daughter of a decorated general.
"You're not Fire Nation," Naoki remarked, slithering next to her as they made their way across the beach. "What's Water Tribe nobility doing on Ember Island? And what's with the white hair?"
Yue gave a sardonic smile, admittedly impressed. She had not expected anyone to recognize her social station, even if they knew her ethnicity. "You haven't heard? I'm the esteemed guest of the Phoenix King himself." She self-consciously felt for her comb in her hair and decided that the story of her birth could come another day.
They spent the next few days of vacation together. Azula, Zuko, and Chan would practice firebending katas together with the sunrise. Chan, while not nearly as talented as the siblings, could surprisingly hold his own out of sheer resilience. Naoki, despite her athletic prowess and skill as a firebender, was a dainty soul fond of makeovers and clothes. Ruon-Jian was characterized by his noncommittal shrugs and grunts, communicating mostly with Mai in their own esoteric language of one word responses.
Ursa came to them in the morning when they were eating a quiet breakfast, her normally pouting neutral features aglow with a smile. "We're going to see a play at the theater this event," she beamed and produced a flyer.
Yue craned her neck to see. The pamphlet depicted two dragons, one red and one blue, passionately entwined. Beneath them was a woman and man embracing, their features forlorn. Beside her, the royal siblings groaned in unison.
The Phoenix Queen glared at her children and instead turned to Yue. "Love Amongst the Dragons is a brilliant play," she explained, "I cry every time."
"So do I, because of how sappy and horrible it is." Azula snorted. "The playwright should've been banished from the Fire Nation for that mindless drivel. Had I been Fire Lord, I would've sentenced him to death."
"It couldn't be that bad." Yue shrugged and cringed underneath the sharp glares the siblings threw at her. "I, for one, like romances."
She found herself repeating the same thing hours later, standing in front of the Ember Island Theater. The sun was setting over the ocean behind them. A cool breeze danced along the island and Yue drew the thin shawl tighter over her shoulders. As it turned out, Ursa had made it tradition to abandon their crowns and priveleges for a night. They now stood in the same line as the commoners of Ember Island, praying for a seat that was not in the nosebleeds section. Even Ozai and Ursa were dressed in the styles befitting upper middle class commoners, though the Phoenix King seemed agitated and uncomfortable in his own skin, no doubt unaccustomed to the threadbare tunics of the lower class.
"This is beneath me." Azula said and shoved hard when a woman tried to elbow her way in front of her. She was without her entourage tonight; Mai and Ty Lee had faced her wrath when they decided to stay behind with Naoki and Roun-Jian.
"Patience is a virtue," Zuko replied, golden eyes twinkling.
“Patience is for peasants!” His sister snapped.
The Theater on Ember Island was an elegant structure. It was three stories high, with narrow windows that cast amber light on the deck that wrapped around. Its roof was tiled and red, with paper lanterns hanging near the entrance. Yue could smell food. There was a general din of conversation all around.
In front of them stood the Phoenix King and Queen. Ursa had her arm linked with her husband's, whose shoulders were squared and tense. Her head rested lovingly against him. They suited each other, Yue thought. They had toppled a dynasty together, that alone was admirable from a romantic view. Their love was one for songs, and the chorus would be the screams of the victims they had trampled over in their climb to global prominence.
"Please, help give this veteran a home!" Yue heard someone shout and when she turned, she could see a man making his way through the line, feebly rattling an empty can. "I returned from the Earth Kingdoms to no home and no wife!"
The man was still young, perhaps not quite thirty. He might have even been handsome at one point, but Yue saw that the left side of his body had suffered some type of traumatic injury. His atrophied arm was cradled close to his body and his chest seemed sunken in, while the left side of his face sagged.
"What's wrong with him?" She asked.
"He was too weak to fend off an earthbender, that's what," Azula snapped. "Pockets of dissent pop up every once in a while in the Earth Kingdoms and are crushed quickly." She wrinkled her nose as the man approached them. "The shame of the Fire Nation."
Yue tried to imagine what it must've been like, suffering so terribly. The shame of the Fire Nation is not supporting their veterans , she wanted to retort but realized it would sacrifice her life. She met the man's gaze and smiled softly at him. She watched as his lopsided features shifted into confusion, and then rage. He stormed closer, close enough that she could smell the alcohol seeping from his breath.
"Foreigners! I was left maimed and homeless just so a foreigner could take my spot!" The veteran bellowed and Yue stumbled back, crashing into Zuko. He caught her arms, holding her upright against his chest and Azula lunged forward, blue sparks flaring at her fingertips. "I returned from the Earth Kingdoms for this?"
Both Ozai and Ursa spun around. The Phoenix King, beautiful though he was, was unrecognizable in the twilight and without his crown. He frowned. With the grace of a leopon, the Phoenix King grabbed the inebriated man by the collar of his vest and wordlessly slung him aside, causing him to stumble into the railing of the deck.
The queen turned apologetically to Yue, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I am so sorry," she said quietly. "I am so, so sorry."
Yue forced a reassuring smile and shrugged away from Zuko, who still held on to her arms. She could not help that she was a foreigner in this land. It had not been her choice to come, she wanted to say. She had been brought here as a prisoner, as leverage for the obedience of her people. Apologize all they want, she thought, and it would still be the same.
Love Amongst the Dragons ran smoothly. Ursa's insistence on acting like the common people had landed them in fortunate seats. Yue found that the play was well performed, finding the tragic character of Noren both handsome and appealing. More than once she gripped the arms of seat whenever the man went into battle for his love.
Azula and Zuko sat beside their parents, their arms crossed. They mirrored Ozai while the queen sat on the edge of her seat, using a square of silk to dab at her eyes. Yue was not ashamed to say that she felt the same sting.
The play's second act ended with Noren, the bold hero, face to face once more with the Dark Water Spirit that had stolen away his beloved. He was restrained by tendrils of water, while the love of his life was imprisoned by a waterfall. Her sorrowful cries echoed around the audience. Yue put a hand over her heart, batting away tears. Azula rolled her eyes. The velvet curtains descended on the scene as the lights faded to black. A soft, mourning music played and Yue found herself suddenly longing for water to quench her thirst and a breath of fresh air from the deck.
She stood and Zuko offered to accompany her. Yue declined and made her way through the crowded lobby where attendees utilized the intermission to indulge in snacks and overpriced meals. Her nose and eyes burning from the intense smell of fire flakes, a popular snack amongst Fire Nationers that had left her gagging and crying the one time she had been foolish enough to try it. The very sight of them turned her stomach. After procuring water, she stumbled outside. The deck was not quite as full as the lobby and she wandered around the building until she found a place of relative solitude.
Beyond the island, the stars winked. The moon, an luminous half-circle- hung in the sky, mounted on dark indigo. Yue breathed in and exhaled, daring to outstretch her hands. A band of clouds spread over the moon.
He came from the corner of her eye, savage and cautious, like a pitviper lying in wait. She could smell him before she could see him, the stench of alcohol so overpowering that she would have gagged if given the time. She turned quickly on her heel. He descended on her with a roar flamed by inebriated breath, his hands closing around her wrists in a grip as tight as manacles.
"What a surprise," the man growled and he suddenly seemed more dangerous when there was no longer Azula or the Phoenix King to chase him away. The small light threw shadows over his sagging face, making his cheeks hollow and gaunt. His lips drew back over his teeth. "Think you're so important because you're a wealthy foreigner, huh? Think just because the world is being united that you can waltz around on Fire Nation land while us real Fire Nationers have to fight for scraps?!” He shook her roughly.
His grip threatened to shatter the bones in her wrists. Yue jerked away, stumbling back against the railing. He fell with her and she found that he was heavier than he looked. "All you earthbenders are the same."
Yue whimpered. He thought she was from the Earth Kingdoms. She had the misfortune of looking like his supposed enemy, despite her white hair and blue eyes. If not her, she thought, then it might've been someone else.
She opened her mouth to scream, only to find her throat sealed shut by his hands. She squawked, digging her fingernails into him. If only she could free her mouth to bite him. That’s what Katara would have done. She wrenched her head to the right and then to the left. It was to no avail, his hold only tightened. He pressed his face close to hers, his eyes lit by rage and alcohol. Yue had never seen such hatred. The edges of her vision dimmed. She suspected she felt a hand brush along the side of her chest, slithering under her shirt to tug at her bindings. No, she thought angrily. A princess could not take dignity in this.
A Koi would not stand for this.
She would not die here. Not here, so far away from her home and her people. And she would not let him dishonor her, not in that way, not in any way. Planting one hand on his chest and the other around the forearm of the hand groping her, Yue swiveled her hips to dislodge him and brought one freed leg up to kick him aback a few paces.
He flew at her once more with a renewed rage and desire to hurt her in more ways than one. Yue screamed and yanked her comb from her hair with one hand, feeling strands part painfully from her scalp. Perhaps it was fear that made her so quick and strong. Perhaps it was desperation.
She plunged the comb down in the darkness, feeling it pierce through something with an audible tear. The man cried out, cut off by a wet gurgle. Yue retched and sobbed as some dark liquid ran over her hand, warm and thick. The man's body slumped lifelessly against her and she leaned back against the railing, as far away from him as she could manage, her breath coming in short, desperate pants. His blood stained her clothing.
The moon emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the blank face of the man lying lifeless against her, the silhouette of her comb protruding from his neck. His hands on her throat had begun to turn limp and cold, his fingers leaving red bruises. Yue whimpered, meeting his dead, unwavering gaze, and vomited over the railing.
"Help me," she sputtered. "Please, someone help me."
She dared yell louder, feeling her knees grow weak. She slid down, the man's death grip finally shaking loose. He hit the ground with a thud, a new rivulet of red streaming from underneath him. Yue pulled her knees to her chest and found that she didn't have the stretch to look at her hands.
"Help!" She called out and hurried footsteps approached. Yue looked up at a man and his wife, her eyes darting to the corpse at her feet. Their own eyes followed. "Please."
It was a blur after. She remembered the man draping his jacket over her shoulders. She remembered him picking her up and carrying her, and she remembered the startled faces of Ursa and Zuko. Ozai and Azula had gone to find out what had happened, returning in a joint black rage. Ozai had ordered the man’s body to be unceremoniously disposed of.
She remembered the rushed ferry ride back home, as if they were outlaws fleeing a crime scene.
She returned to her rooms and she didn't emerge. Yue imagined that she slept most of the time and the man's dead eyes found their way inside of her dreams. His fingers had left a necklace of dark marks around her throat.
There was a knock on the door on the third day back at the palace- or perhaps it was the fifth day or the seventh, she didn't remember. Yue shouted for them to go away and pressed her face back into the pillows. The servants always obeyed, apologizing profusely and then slipping away.
Azula stormed in, followed by a much slower Ursa. The queen took a seat beside Yue on the bed and pressed an apprehensive hand on her shoulder. When Yue did not shy away, she ran her palm along her hair. "Yue, little one, you must get up. It is not becoming for a woman of your station to behave like this."
“Leave me alone,” she moaned into the blankets.
Yue turned away and Ursa's fingers tightened. "Do not pull away," she commanded, voice hardening, and she hoisted Yue upright, forcing her to meet her gaze. "Get up. A princess, especially one from such an ancient family, does not lay down and mope. This world is too cruel for self-pity. Other women may buckle and break, but are you not of the Water Tribes? Do your people not boast strength and adaptability in the face of adversity?"
"I killed a man," Yue whispered and the Phoenix Queen's jaw set. "I killed him."
Azula strode forward. "And you are all the stronger for it. A simpler woman would've succumbed to being choked and killed. You didn't. You claimed your life back from him. That is an admirable trait."
"There's no honor in that. There's no honor in playing at being a god."
The Fire Nation's princess scowled. "There's no honor in trying to harm an innocent teenage girl." She cast a glance at her mother and the queen nodded, slipping from the room wordlessly. Azula dug her fingernails into the flesh of Yue's thigh, leaving stinging marks on her skin. "You are stronger for it, but you are still weak." Her eyes narrowed. "A warrior wouldn't have been so defenseless. You are pampered and the whole of your nation shows it. Weaklings to the core.”
Yue clenched her teeth.
"The South knelt to the Phoenix King. I heard that the chief put up a fight until Zhao slit his throat. I heard the South's princess capsized a ship to save herself. What have you done?" Azula leaned within inches of Yue's face, close enough that Yue could count her lashes if she wanted. "I'll only make this offer once," she growled, and pressed a knife into Yue's hand. "You either adapt, or you die. I'll still dream sweetly at night, ice lily."
Yue looked down at the blade and then down at Tui, curled at the foot of the bed. The polar dog watched her. Azula watched her. She allowed her fingers to tighten around the hilt. "I am not an ice lily," she declared, "I am a Koi."
Chapter 30: Scintilla
Chapter Text
Katara
"See," Katara said, holding the stone in both hands, "I told you I can't be the Avatar. Nothing is happening." She ran her fingers over the sapphire enhydro, feeling the moisture in it vibrate in her hands. She had never let the gemstone go. "I'm no earthbender."
Jun didn't turn around. Her shoulders swayed with each movement of the shirshu, Nyla. Katara had found the animal most peculiar, especially when Jun revealed to her that the massive star-nose mole had no eyes. On the first day, Jun had forced her to let the animal sniff her to get acquainted with her smell, though Katara found Nyla no less intimidating. He was just as finicky as his master.
"You're ignoring me."
"Because you're annoying me." Jun drawled and Katara saw her shoulders bounce as she chuckled. "I told you, kid, I'm taking you to the Air Temple. The world gets their Avatar and I get a nice wad of money." She glanced back at Katara. "Reckon a princess like you never had to worry about money. Momma and Daddy spoiled you rotten."
Katara fell silent and set the rock in her lap. She gripped the edge of the saddle as Nyla increased his stride, snorting and sniffing as he went. "No," she murmured, "I didn't." She and Sokka had never been without toys or clothes, or whatever else their hearts desired as children. "But I didn't get to know my mother very well."
They trotted down a dirt road, where the trees overhead were finally shedding their leaves. Banka-Kadi and Terusan were slowly disappearing behind them as they headed northeast. Jun pulled gently on the shirshu's reins and looked back at Katara before turning back around, her pretty mouth drawn in a straight line. "Me neither. My mother stuck around long enough to spit me out, then she left us- my pa and I, I mean." Katara could hear the grin in her voice. "My pa was the greatest bounty hunter there ever was- until I came along."
"Why did she leave you?" Katara asked and then clasped her hands over her mouth. "That was rude, sorry."
"Because the grass is greener on the other side." Jun shrugged. "Your momma left in the middle of the night too? Caught a boat to Ba Sing Se?"
Katara shook her head. "She died when my brother and I were very little. Are you and your father very close?"
Jun nodded. "Aside from this blind beast, my Pa is my best friend." She ran a hand roughly down Nyla's shoulder. "Say perhaps your father did know you were the Avatar, and hid it from you and the Tribe? Would you still idolize him?"
Katara stiffened. "I'm not the Avatar," she harrumphed and then paused. Perhaps there was some dark secret that had died with her father that day, some secret that he had shielded them from. Her eyes stung. No. Never. Her father had been honest. Her father had been kind. Her father had loved her. "My dad wouldn't do that."
"Because great men never have dark secrets," Jun replied caustically. She yanked on the reins, wheeling the shirshu around. Nyla bared his teeth and snorted as his mistress cracked the riding crop against his haunches, causing him to break into a run. Katara scrabbled for a more secure hold.
They crashed through the trees on the side of the road, eventually coming to a crossroads. Katara, wincing from the scratches that twigs had left on her arms and face, saw a wooden post loaded with posters and bulletins. “Some kinda shortcut,” she groaned. Jun dismounted and strode towards the post. Katara followed much slower, stopping at the woman's side.
Half of the bulletins were wanted posters. A good number of them were listed as "dissidents" that were to be found and returned to the Fire Nation. Others were thieves and delinquents wanted by various cities and kingdoms.
The second half of the board was taken up by news flyers, listing the current events. "Water Tribe Chief rebelled and lost" read one, "Reports of Spirit Activity" said another. Katara frowned. The poster presented her father as a rebel and miscreant. She ripped it down and tore it apart, letting the shreds flutter to the ground. Her father had not been a rebel. It had been an unjust coup.
Jun was studying the map posted. She jabbed a finger on the red dot that marked their location. Her nail traveled a path that led to a small peninsula, set between the rest of the Earth Kingdoms and the sea. It straddled the border of Banka-Kadi and the outermost corner of Omashu. "The Eastern Air Temple," she said. She pointed to yet another poster, this one of a woman with blue Water Tribe eyes. She was listed as a dangerous escaped prisoner wanted by three Kingdoms.
"Your people?" Jun asked and Katara shook her head, her eyes plastered on the hefty reward for whoever found the woman. Jun let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of money, isn't it, Blue Eyes? Must’ve been a real doozy, that one.”
Katara nodded as Jun pulled the flyer down, folding it and tucking it into her belt. "I doubt anyone would find her, though. The Earth Kingdoms are too big."
"You'd be surprised." Jun walked back to Nyla. "Once you get to be my age, you realize that people like to follow patterns. I bet you she's a waterbender. Waterbenders tend to stick to oceans and rivers. If she not on the coast, then she’s set up near a river or lake town. She's more than likely trying to stay hidden, so she'll try to find a highly populated area where she'll blend in. Or she'll be a hermit living off the land.”
The waterbender supposed Jun was right. Katara heaved herself back onto Nyla and the bounty huntress wasted no time snapping the reins.
Nyla carried them through the forest path from which they had come, and Katara could not help but think of Jet and Smellerbee, and the Duke and Pipsqueak, who she could still hear choking on his own blood. She wondered what had become of them after the blur of the throne in Terusan. Her throat and chest tightened at the thought of Jet. The memory of their nights in the treetop camp, his dark eyes that peeked but never pried their way into her thoughts. His kisses, the way his experienced touch had made something in her belly flutter.
“Who are you reminiscing about back there, Blue Eyes?” Jun asked and Katara realized that she had begun to lean into the woman, lost in her nostalgia. “I know it’s some no good scruffy boy. I had my share of those when I was your age.”
Jet hadn’t been scruffy.
“No one important.” Katara pushed her thoughts away. If Jun heard her then she didn’t respond. “He was left back in the city.”
She remembered the walls coming down. She remembered clenching her fists. She remembered her father, chin lifted in pride as they slit his throat. She remembered the air stirring with her fingers, the way the earth rolled under her feet, the dull ache of her old bones.
She remembered. She remembered.
It wasn't moisture she had been feeling.
Katara grabbed Jun's arm before she could stop herself and the strength and urgency made the woman look over her shoulder. "Tell me about the Avatar. Tell me everything."
"I know about as much as you do, kid. I know that the last one was an airbender. He died 'bout fourteen years ago." The huntress turned back to face the road ahead of them.
"How do you know?"
Jun snorted. "You're fourteen, aren't you?" She rolled her shoulders and straightened her back. "I know that he, well you , can bend all four elements. I know that when people find out about you, they will want you. And I'll be a rich woman."
She'd said that many times, Katara realized. "You'd sell me, a teenage girl, to the highest bidder?"
"It's business. I am a business woman."
"It's not right."
Again Jun snorted. "I'm a morally corrupt woman who earns her keep by exchanging human flesh for money. If someone wants to find someone else, they pay me. It is literally my job. A job that I am very good at, by the way.”
"I'll run away," Katara threatened. "Once we get to open water, I could defeat you easily."
The hunter threw her head and laughed, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. "You could run away. I’ll always find you, Blue Eyes. Nyla knows your scent. You can never hide from us."
"I could still fight you."
Jun nodded. "Yes, you could. And you could lose."
They trotted into a midsized town off of the main mercantile route just as evening fell. Jun slid off of the shirshu in search of an inn and tossed a coin purse to Katara. "Find food," she ordered. "Preferably a tavern. The seedier the better. None of that plush and luxury you’re used to.”
Katara found plenty of taverns and settled on the scariest. Half of the people occupying the tables and booths were hulking earthbenders bursting with wheat beer and crammed with food. The other half were scrawny conspirators, their clothes made of fine, clean cloth, cowering in their seats to hide their faces.
A woman was hosting, with dingy orange robes and a shaved head. Her teeth were misaligned and her eyes were a scrutizing gray. When she greeted Katara, the princess saw that her hands and arms had been tattooed with dark brown arrows.
"You've never seen an Air Nomad, girl?" The woman asked gruffly and Katara shook her head in admission. Air Nomad envoys had never visited IcePoint, at least not any time she could remember. She had imagined airbenders to be soft and carefree, not hard and metallic like this woman whose bald head glinted from the lights above. The Air Nomad chuckled and slapped a menu down at the booth she had escorted Katara to. She bent down, her crooked teeth coming together in a smile. "Reckon we're both in the wrong place, yeah?"
Katara watched as the woman sat across from her, her sleeves fluttering as she put one hand under her chin. Up close the woman appeared to be closer to forty, crow's feet lining her eyes. "How'd you end up here?" Katara asked.
The Nomad smiled again. "The Air Temples aren't for everyone. Especially not now, with the Fire Nation's thumb on us. I'd rather spend my time here than slave away under their eyes." She laughed. "You're such a young thing."
"...thank you?" Katara offered and the older woman smirked. Katara saw Jun enter the tavern and shove a man out of the way whose hands had been snaking towards her. The bounty hunter sauntered over to the table, appraising the hostess. They sized each other up.
"Best tea you've got," the dark haired grunted and the hostess stood, allowing Jun to take a seat across from Katara. "From the Eastern Air Temple?"
The Nomad nodded, her mouth slightly agape. Jun gestured to her arrows. "Only ones who use dark brown ink. All the others use blue. Leave it to your lot to want to be special." Jun turned to Katara, signaling that the conversation was over between her and the Nomad. "Nobody gave you a hard time, did they?"
Katara shook her head. "How do you know so much about everything? My brother would love to listen to you." She thought about Sokka and her grief was renewed. She missed her brother's teasing and rare but hugs, she missed Gran-Gran and her father, and Bato who had hoisted her on his shoulders as a girl.
Jun shrugged. "I travel a lot." Katara noticed that her eyes lingered in the hostess, her mouth drawn into a tight line. "You think she has a flying bison?"
"What's that?"
The bounty hunter lifted her hands in exasperation, rolling her eyes. "Good grief. For you to have had a royal education…You don't know anything, kid! A flying bison is what airbenders use to get around. They're bison. That fly. Got it?"
Katara narrowed her eyes. "You don't have to be so rude."
Jun scoffed. "Well, you don't have to be so annoying." She leaned back against the chair, pressing her back against the wall. Her eyes scanned the tavern, stopping in front of certain characters, namely those dressed in fine clothes. Katara realized that the woman's eyes were trained to stop things out of place or things that fit her needs. She had a warrior's calculating eyes.
"How old are you anyway, Jun?" Katara asked and an amused smirk crossed the bounty hunter's face. She leaned forward across the table and Katara felt her ears redden and turn hot.
"Too old for you, kid." The woman replied. "Twenty seven now, maybe."
"Maybe?"
Jun grinned. "I have to keep you guessing, don't I?"
The hostess of the tavern returned and with her she brought a tray with a steaming kettle and two tea cups. "Jasmine and peach is the best I have right now," she sighed. "Can I get you anything to eat?"
"Get the kid some dumplings," Jun said and shook her head when the Nomad inquired about her. As she walked away, however, Jun grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to her height, lips close to the older woman’s ear. The nun froze, turning into stone. "Tell me, what do your nuns do with very important people?"
Katara shot a sharp glance at the dark haired woman. The Air Nomad furrowed her brow as she relaxed, but asked no questions. Katara figured that she had been asked stranger things. "It depends on why they're important," she answered finally. "But my people have never turned someone away, I'll give them that. They'd protect them and give them refuge."
"Unless they're wanted by the Fire Nation," Katara said and the Nomad nodded once. "Then they don't have the power to protect them."
"No," the Nomad agreed, "they don't." She looked down at her brown tattoos on her hands and then raised her head. "Should you journey there and need protection, ask for Nun Ubon. She'll never turn you away, no matter what you've done." She caught Katara's gaze. "Or who you are. The firebenders respect her to an extent, you'll be safe with her. Now, do you like your noodles spicy or not?"
The crowd in the tavern swelled as the evening and then night drew on, and so did the noise. Katara saw the conspiring men meet the burly bounty hunters, who gave deferential nods to Jun. She returned some, and then others she merely wrinkled her nose in disgust.
The Nomad lit sweet smelling candles, which didn't do much to mask the odor of sweat and men, but Katara appreciated the effort. The sound of money being exchanged was a constant sound.
Jun rose, beckoning for Katara to stay. "Business," she explained shortly, disappearing from view. Katara sat back and linked her fingers together, watching the people. They were not like the people in Terusan or Chikyu Bay, the bawdy patrons did not have the delicate air that the rest of Banka-Kadi seemed to have. They were gruff and sturdy. Someone had struck up a song that made Katara blush.
At some point, she must've fallen asleep. She awoke to Jun prodding her in her shoulder, wordlessly beckoning her to leave and Katara found the strength to follow, putting one foot before the other, wondering that if perhaps she had been born an airbender, she might fly.
.
In front of her was a god.
It was a strange creature, an entity both human and animal, with a rigid back and proud shoulders, with skin mottled with feathers and scales. A creature both female and male, vicious and fragile, immortal. It had no color, instead being lit by an ultraviolet light from within.
She was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming. When she looked at her hands, she found that they were her own, yet still seemed unfamiliar. The world around her was damp and green. She was barefoot. Mist swirled around her feet and clung to her hair.
"We meet again," the god said with a thousand voices, outstretching an ancient hand. "It's been a hundred years already, how time flies."
Katara nodded. The god appraised her, taking note of her blue tunic and brown skin. She had been paler before, and her blue clothes had once been yellow and orange.
The world around them transformed and then they were at a long table, with walls painted with figures arching and heaving in a primordial kata. The god sat across from her, now in the shape of a woman with black skin and yellow eyes. "You've become obsolete," the god said and produced a mango from thin air, sinking its teeth into the flesh. "You were a voice for the gods, but it seems that you've lost your tongue."
Katara shook her head.
The god met her gaze and Katara's head began to ache from the intensity of it. "Oh yes, little one. This world of yours has fallen dangerously out of balance, little one. It pains us to see our creations so corrupted," the god leaned forward, black skin glistening with embedded stars. “This mortal realm is no longer what we made it, and you should have no doubt that we will let it rot and ruin."
"No," Katara breathed, though she found that she did not understand. "You can't."
"We can, little one. You will either serve your purpose and balance this realm or we will." The god sat back and once again the scenery changed. Katara felt her heart leap to her throat.
It was the South, just it had always appeared. There was IcePoint and the other cities of the south pole, glistening under the moonlight. Snowmont and Wolf’s Cove, Icebreak City. All of its villages and hamlets and towns. Its rustic roads. The mines where they extracted the iron ore. The ocean shone silver, lapping gently against the ice. Katara’s heart softened. There was her home, complete once again.
And before her eyes, it began to burn. She could hear the screams of women and children, hear them pleading to the gods and spirits to save them. Their cries warped into a chant, three cascading syllables that slammed against her ears and eyelids.
"Katara! Katara! Katara!"
"Wake up!"
Jun.
The bounty huntress knelt beside her, hand grasping her shoulder. The lantern in the room cast shadows on her face, which was drawn into a grimace that on any other person might have passed as worry. "Wake up, princess." She moved back to her own side of the space.
Katara sat up, finding that she had been laying on a bed. They were in their rented room, where Jun's bed was situated across from her. Without thinking, Katara flew across the room and threw herself against the woman's chest, finding ragged sobs forcing their way through her throat. Jun stiffened and then relaxed awkwardly, gingerly resting her hands on her shoulders. She held her like that and for a moment, that brief second of forgetfulness, Katara felt like she was safe and home.
Jun patted her back and pushed her away. “Do you…wanna talk about it?”
Katara hesitated. Jun was staring at her, half impassively, half with concern. She crossed her legs, nestling her feet under her body and leveled Jun’s gaze with her own. “Yes,” she responded at last, “I do.”
Chapter 31: Into the City
Chapter Text
Sokka
There was no time for sightseeing. They departed from Kyoshi Island and left no time for exploring, though Suki whispered of the mysteries of the Earth Kingdoms, of the monuments and the histories beneath the rock and soil and sand. Maybe, he thought, when the Phoenix King was dethroned and his sister was safe, he could return and study the Earth Kingdoms in their entirety, all eight of them from Kyoshi to Arakem.
The pace was hard on the mainland, and their journey a frugal one. He had decided after much deliberation to send Bato and the older warriors away, to remain with the ships so that they might return home and keep Icepoint secure. Bato had argued, citing his duty to Hakoda, and Sokka had argued back. The south still needed protection, they needed a leader alongside the elders to guide them while the chief was away. After a heated conversation, Bato had finally relented and a week later he and the other warriors were headed back south. Sokka knew that he would have to find a way to fund his way to Gaoling, the richest kingdom in the west. The gold and borrowed funds would only go so far . His hopes balanced on Omashu, a kingdom with its heart nestled in between two mountains. The King of Omashu was ancient, and a madman.
According to Suki, but Suki had never been off of Kyoshi Island so what did she know.
The warrior woman strode beside him, with Amarok or Desna on either side of her. Innik and Yukka trotted ahead. Her belt jingled with every step and just beyond her, a few paces behind them, Sokka could see Touqa and Kunip exchanging wary, frustrated glances. He could almost hear their thoughts: that Kyoshian, at his side like she was one of his warriors, like she had hunted with him.
The audacity.
They had not hesitated in voicing their distrust of her and Sokka’s decision on allowing her to come along. Touqa had argued that she would get in the way. Kunip was more pragmatic. Any woman with Sokka would be seen as his wife, and that put a target on both of their backs.
"If you could live anywhere else, where would it be?" Sokka asked her as they walked, their steps leaving marks in the dirt. He thought about his own answer as he spoke, and Sokka figured he would want to live near water, and where the winters were harsh but the summers were paradise. Some place where there was a balcony and a library that held the great books of the nations. He doubted such a place existed. The library back home was great, but the summers were bitter.
Suki shrugged. "I've never thought about it that much. I like Kyoshi Island, it's my home. It’s the only place I’ve ever known.”
The rocks underfoot dug into the soles of his shoes and Sokka glanced over his shoulder. Somewhere, beyond the vast expanse of land that they had covered in a surprisingly short amount of time was the ocean raging white and blue. Sokka longed for the blinding ice and the perpetual chill that settled in his bones, missed the guttural hymns that his people sang. For them, this journey was for them and all those that he had left behind. He reminded himself every so often, when the longing threatened to overtake him.
The terrain of Omashu was temperate but rocky, and scattered hills and ravines slowed their pace. They had seen little civilization save for hamlets, and the inhabitants gawped at the foreigners passing through with amazement.
They came across a steeper hill that took hours to crest. Blessedly it was dotted with rugged fruit trees that the warriors took their fill off. They were hardy yellow green apples that Sokka had never tasted but knew he would find some way to grow them back home.
Amarok barked and pulled away from them, hackles raised. The pup Desna followed suit and they bounded forward in spite of Sokka's commands. The older polar dog disappeared over a slope, his savage baying trailing him. After a moment’s hesitation,Innik and Yukka took off after them. Sokka cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting for the dogs to return to him. Damn them all, he thought, he ought to have them neutered. He threw an exasperated glance at Suki and his warriors, taking off after the canines.
He found them over the crest of the hill, all four of them sitting with their tails draped over their paws, prim and posed like they had been waiting for him. Sokka, out of breath, rolled his eyes. He'd get a crate for them, that'll show the scoundrels.
"What was all that about?" Sokka asked and Desna the pup bounced to his feet, winding in circles around his ankles. He could hardly be called a pup at this point. He stood nearly as tall as Togo and was broad as Amarok. "Don't try to weasel your way back into my good graces," the young chief snapped without bite. He looked down at Amarok, whose proud snout was facing whatever lay at the foot of the hill. Sokka followed the polar dog's gaze.
There, nestled between a hill and a mountain, was a city. Perhaps not a city, but a town, with tiny houses dotting the area like outliers, tiled and sandstone brown. The sight of it reminded him of home, of Icepoint and the villages scattered across the south. He was far away from the ice and tundra of his home. Still, the sight of it brought his breath to a momentary halt. The last large civilization he had seen had been Suki's village on the Kyoshi Island, this place was no larger, nor was it his intended destination, but still.
He heard the others rush to join him. Kunip and Touqa skidded to a halt, nearly crashing into him. Sokka wondered why they all had become so enraptured by a simple settlement when they hailed from a great civilization carved from ice and stone, built over the centuries by their ancestors. The town below probably wasn't even seventy years old.
"You think there's people down there?" Touqa asked.
"No," Sokka responded derisively,unable to resist, "I think there might be lizard people. Maybe even talking ostrich horses.”
"If you weren't my chief I'd clout you upside your fat head, Sokka," Touqa drawled and turned his attention back to the town at the foot of the hill. "Hey, Kyoshi, what's that place?"
Suki let out an indignant scoff. "I'm from an Earth Kingdom, so obviously I know every town and city that exists, despite the fact that there are eight very large and very diverse Kingdoms. I know of the Earth Kingdoms, not every detail of every single one." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I say we go through it."
"Suppose it's a Fire Nation town, aye, and we get executed because we go through it. I'm blaming Kyoshi over here. Leave it to her to get us all killed.” Touqa said acerbically and Sokka stepped in front of the auburn haired warrior as she made move to confront his friend.
"We're not blaming anyone," he raised his hand, "we're going to go down there. One, because it would be out of our way to skirt around it, and two, maybe they can help us out. I don’t know about you all, but I could use some sleep in a nice warm bed." Sokka took a step forward and he knew his men would follow him. "Come on."
They followed him, and not for the first time he wondered if they did so out of oath or if it was because they truly believed in him, that they believed he could turn the minds of the world's greatest leaders. Following him meant fame and glory and fortune, it made them the warriors in the stories told to children. It gave them immortality. That was what all great men sought, a name to echo throughout the ages.
His warriors, his brothers sworn by spear and oath, followed him down the hill. He reminded himself that they were bloodsworn- their loyalty to each other went as deep as though they had been born from the same woman. Kunip and Touqa especially. The land stretched out before them and the road they stood on was well traveled. Sokka strode forward, his dogs at his heels. The outskirts of the town rose to meet them, presenting them with the smell of civilization. The buildings were squat, with only two floors at the most and few windows. The roofs were constructed out of brown overlapping shingles, and as they drew closer, Sokka saw superstitious symbols carved on the corner of nearly every building, incantations to the gods and inscriptions.
The people of the town eyed them as they entered its walls, though they seemed unafraid. Children clutched their mother's skirts and the women themselves clutched their baskets, gaping openly at the brown skinned blue eyed warriors. At once, a flood seemed to break, and several of the older children tore off down the street. "They've come!" They called, sandals stirring dust in their wake. "They've come!"
Sokka reached for his boomerang and his warriors fell into formation around them, fingers grasping for their weapons.
"If we're executed, I'm still blaming the Kyoshian," Touqa growled as several of the townspeople approached them. He threw a pointed glare at the young woman, whose iron war fans had snapped out.
The townspeople held up their hands in an amicable gestures. The first, a man, smiled. "We were told you would come," he proclaimed, olive gaze set on Sokka. "And here you are, in the flesh."
Sokka raised a brow. "Who told you that?"
"The fortune teller," replied the second, a woman. "She foretold that a powerful man would descend a hill."
"Oh jeez," Sokka grumbled and rolled his eyes even harder. Fortune tellers were frauds, the whole lot of them. He had little patience for their snake oils and woo woo. "How do you know I'm a powerful man? How do you know I haven't come to kill you all?"
The townspeople seemed more amused than afraid. "Aunt Wu knows these things," the woman insisted, "she predicted it would rain, and that was true. She predicted I would marry a man with green eyes, and I did." Of course, of course her name would be Aunt Wu.
"They're nuts." Kunip muttered. "All of them."
A young girl with bushy black hair and a pink hanfu ran towards them, trailed calmly by a heavy set woman. The girl skidded to a halt, panting. She looked up at Sokka and he down at her. "You were right, Aunt Wu!" She cried, revealing a gap between her front teeth. “You were right!”
The woman, the fortune teller, the "Aunt Wu", approached. She stood beside the young girl and the townspeople fell behind her, as though they were all children following their schoolteacher. "You are the man from over the hill."
Sokka glanced at his companions. "You don't get many visitors, do you?"
The woman smiled with smoke stained teeth. "We do, dear child. However, I foresaw your arrival in the smoke. You have journeyed very far and you have yet to go." She met Sokka's gaze, unflinching at his scrutiny. "You are on your way to see the king of the city of two lovers."
Sokka appreciated his ability to put two and two together. He assumed that the city of two lovers was another name for the kingdom of Omashu. "We're heading in the right direction I hope."
Aunt Wu the fortune teller nodded. "A mere three days' march from here," she said and swept her arm out, bangles clattering on her wrist. "Follow me and refresh yourselves."
His warriors eyed him warily. He did need refreshing. The townspeople parted as he followed the little girl and the fortune teller to a complex situated in the middle of the town. Unlike the other buildings and structures, it was gated. The fortune teller brought them to the entrance, where there was a fountain and small garden of vegetables and herbs.
"Come inside," she beckoned them, "Meng will find you something suitable to eat and drink." She entered the main building and Sokka followed, entering a spacious greeting area with satin cushions and mahogany tables scattered throughout.
The little girl, Meng, grabbed hold of Sokka's wrist, pulling him down onto a seat with a strength he had not expected from her puny frame. She did the same to Kunip and Touqa, and tried to scoop Desna up. The younger polar dog bared his teeth and she shied away. "Do you want fruit, we have lots of fruit?"
Suki, whose face was twisted in some bizarre combination of confusion and distaste, nodded. "That will suffice," she answered for them, "thank you."
The fortune teller's rings glittered as she faced them. "I am sure you have many questions."
Sokka snorted. "That's an understatement," he replied and leaned forward, "what is this place called? And what kind of trickery are you playing? You’ve got all your citizens fooled, I’ll give you that. So what is it? Seeing things in the smoke? Secretly a bender to make some phenomena happen?”
The woman laughed heartily. "There is no trickery in Makapau," she answered, "only the reading of the signs that the spirits give us." She took a seat across from them as Meng brought forth several large mangoes and slices of papaya. "I saw your arrival in the flames and the smoke told me that you are making a great journey from a distant land.”
That was vague enough to fit anyone, Sokka thought. He hoped that no one ever paid the woman for her services. "Is that so?"
"Indeed," the fortune teller of Makapau nodded. "Very much so. You seek the king of Omashu," she cocked her head, eyes half lidded as though she was listening to someone. "You are seeking his friendship."
"And maybe an autograph," Sokka chaffed.
Meng scuttled back into the room once more, balancing a tray of steaming cups. They were filled with coffee imported from Arakem and in the middle of the tray was a bowl of sweetener. She set it down on the table and scrambled to Wu's side, folding her legs. "Are you going to read their fortunes, Aunt Wu?" She set her gaze onto Touqa. "He's got big ears," she cooed dreamily, "Aunt Wu said I was going to marry someone with big ears."
Touqa scowled. "Not me ."
The fortune teller gestured for Sokka to rise and follow her. He obeyed and trailed after her into a separate room. There was only a table and a fireplace, with a small pile of bones set beside it. Sokka caught the smell of cinnamon.
The fortune teller closed the door and met Sokka's stare. "I know much of you from the flames," she said quietly. "I know you are the prince of the south and that these months have brought great change and tragedy to you. Much was taken from you in such a short period of time. Much you seek to regain.” Sokka held her gaze as she went on, rattling the bones and tossing them back on the table, "I see a path of anguish and struggle for you, much of it self-inflicted. If you accept that your enemy will one day become your friend, then the light will come for you, eventually." She reached into the deep pockets of her robe and produced a single tile, a playing piece from the board game known as Pai Sho. She held it out to him.
It was the white lotus tile. She passed it to him and Sokka held it in the palm of his hand, turning it this way and that. "What's this for?"
Aunt Wu smiled, sadly and thinly. "This tile will make your journey easier," she explained, "when you reach Omashu, show this to the magistrate and he will understand."
"What about the king?" Sokka asked. "I'm kinda on a tight schedule here.” He ran the pad of his thumb over the tile, tracing its intricacies. He pocketed the tile, wondering why he was listening to a woman who claimed to see the future in the flames. Perhaps, he thought, there might be some tenuous science behind it. “But back to what you said- my enemy will become my friend. My only enemy is the Fire Nation and I will never befriend a single one of them!” His ire flared.
The fortune teller’s countenance became coy. "The king is a madman," she told him, purposefully ignoring his comment, "and that is an answer I do not have."
"Ah," Sokka bit his tongue, "of course you don't."
That night they all laid on the floor of the main room, curled up with donated blankets. Desna and Amarok were curled around his feet and Sokka was grateful to have warm, furry, (breathing) socks. He listened to the breaths of his companions, to their content sighs and sleep-induced murmurs after being fed healthy servings that reminded Sokka of the taste of real food. Sokka fiddled with the white lotus tile, twirling it around between his fingers, holding it up to study it in the fragile moonlight.
"Are you awake?" Suki whispered and Sokka was tempted to say no. He could see the silhouette of her head turned towards him, hands tucked under her chin.
"Depends," he replied and Suki made a "tsk" noise.
"I can't believe it," the Kyoshi Warrior crawled closer to him, "in a matter of days we'll be in Omashu. I can't believe it."
Sokka let the tile fall onto his stomach. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't jinx it. It'll be just our luck if the Fire Nation suddenly invaded it, or its been overrun by flying, firebreathing shrimp." Firebreathing shrimp actually sounded quite tasty, aside from the firebreathing part.
He could feel Suki's stare in the dark, could imagine the way her brows rose to her hairline. "You really are a pessimist," she grumbled, rolling closer to him.
"I like to think I'm a realist. A pragmatist, if you will." Sokka grinned in her direction. "I think it makes me seem more handsome, don't you think."
Suki's teeth glittered like pearls. "Well, I think you'd be handsome regardless, you cynic." She reached out, ran her fingertips across his wrist, "we're almost there."
"Yeah," Sokka nodded and put his hands behind his head. "Yeah."
——
The city of two lovers had been carved into the beige leeward mountainside, where the rains were few and the breezes were brisk and strong but seldom. Makapau was the last town before the city in the mountains, which was only accessed by land bridges. Sokka suddenly wished that they had stayed one more day in Makapau with the fraud and her peculiar assistant. She had not mentioned that the three day march would be brutal.
"I don't like this," whined Mika the waterbender as they trudged through the sand and dust. The vegetation on the leeward side of the mountain was sparse with only clumps of bushes to brighten the scene. "There's no water."
"Out of your element?" Sokka teased and the waterbender glared at him.
"That was kind of dry," Touqa chimed in, bouncing along with him. He leaned into Sokka, chuckling.
"It wasn't terrible," Suki piped up.
" Don't enable them," Kunip squinted his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
They continued forward, across the land bridge. On either side of them was the valley, dry and windless. Before them, stone buildings rose skyward. Sokka saw what looked like slopes and slides carrying what he could only assume to be cargo in huge stone carts. The bridge opened up before them, revealing the edges of a city alive with green and gold, pulsing with a hundred thousand voices. So this is where all the color is , Sokka thought. The city was a kaleidoscope of gemstones. Amethyst and citrine, turquoise and tourmaline.
The streets were crowded with people bustling about. Some wore circular green hats and gold medallions while others wore tunics and gowns. They swirled around the group, undisturbed by their presence. There was some order in this chaos, Sokka thought and raised his head as he registered the sound of something scraping against rock.
Above their heads was a chute sliding towards the higher parts of the city. One by one, crates and wagons shot up the chute, disappearing from view. Sokka watched it in awe, feeling his hands itch at the idea of learning the mechanics behind the system, enraptured by the engineering behind the innovation.
"Y'know," Touqa's voice shattered his reverie, "I don't see a palace."
Sokka scanned the crowd and reached out, grabbing a muscular man by his forearm. The man started and Sokka appraised him. He had a soldier's build - tall and heavy, and sported a masterful dark beard. Sokka fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the Pai Sho tile. "We're looking for the king of Omashu."
The soldier met his gaze and Sokka found his eyes to be the color of emeralds, encased by crow's feet. His gold armbands chimed as he pointed towards a hill lined with houses. He looked impassively back at Sokka, "I will lead you."
"Thanks," Sokka nodded and the man took off with them in tow. "Are you a soldier?" He inquired. "And what are those chutes?"
"Of the king's fifth earthbending regimemt. And Omashu's delivery system," the soldier answered, a man of few words, a succinct man. He danced in and out of the crowded street, brow folded in a scowl. He was lighter on his feet that Sokka expected of an earthbender.
Any second now Sokka expected to feel an incline, to look down and see the land bridge disappearing from view. He glanced at his warriors, finding their features complacent. The hard part of the journey was over for now, he could hear their thoughts, now it was up to Sokka's diplomacy.
Desna tugged on his pant leg with his teeth and Sokka swatted the dog away as the earthbender brought them to a cryptoporticus, with sandstone arches having been shaped by time and countless hands. Emeralds had been cut in the shape of the symbol of Omashu and arranged under the arch.
Standing there, as if they had been awaiting them, was a trio of men. They were all powerfully built, carved from a nation of people hardened by the earth. The oldest of the men wore several medals and a dark green cape. Their escort saluted this man as they approached.
"These men seek an audience with our king," the emerald eyed soldier explained.
"Ah," said the leader, his yellow green eyes taking them in. He settled on Suki, his lips twitching into a frown, and then on Sokka. "So they do."
In the shadows underneath the cryptoporticus, Sokka once again revealed the white lotus tile. He wondered if he had fallen for one of the fortune teller's schemes. It wouldn't hurt to try, he thought. "If you can take us to the magistrate, that would be grand.” He offered them an amicable smile.
The man with the yellow green eyes stared at him, and in two liquid, untraceable movements, movements too graceful for an earthbender, he called upon the earth, arms straining with the effort, and brought it down upon them.
Sokka rolled out of the way, dragging Suki with him. He slid in the dirt, flipping around to see the soldiers falling into an earthbending stance. The ground underneath him shook violently. Sokka yanked his boomerang free and caught sight of Touqa and Kunip preparing to swing their clubs before opting for their spears instead. Several large pillars shot forth, encircling them. Sokka launched his boomerang at the man with the emerald eyes, relishing in the twang that followed it connecting with the man's head.
Touqa speared through a man that had dared to draw too close, kicking his lifeless body away from him.
"It was a set up!" Kunip snarled, lunging over a rising pillar at the earthbenders. He slammed into the smallest earthbender, wrapping his arms around his neck and throwing his weight backwards until he was rolling with the smaller man, pummeling at his head and chest. "Protect the chief!"
Amarok locked onto another man’s leg and the other three dogs piled upon him, biting down on his gauntlets and tearing at the fabric of his tunic under his arm.
Sokka raised his hand to catch his boomerang as it returned. Touqa and Suki closed around him. "Just my luck," the chief despaired. "Don't protect me, fight them!"
The soldier in the green cape slammed his bare heel into the earth. It shattered underneath him and he bent it into the air, launching it at the Water Tribe warriors. Sokka felt his stomach turn as a smaller rock connected with Mika's head, throwing him backwards. He landed motionless in the dirt.
Amarok and Desna launched themselves at the second Earth Kingdom soldier after tossing the wounded man aside, latching their teeth onto him. He roared, slinging Desna into a pillar of the cryptoporticus. The polar dog yelped and Sokka narrowed his eyes.
No one hurt his dogs. Ever.
They outnumbered the earthbenders, but the element of surprise had turned the tide. Sokka suddenly wished Bato and the senior warriors were with them.
A rock met his forehead. Sokka's head snapped back, his vision blurring and blackening, his arms flailing for something solid to grab onto. He heard shouts as he collapsed in the dirt, saw Suki's bright hair hovering over him, the sky above the city suddenly Water Tribe blue. Great he thought as the world closed black and empty around him, just great.
Chapter 32: A World Outside
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
"Garsai is the desert kingdom," Lu-Ten said and winced when Dejen shook his head. "No, Arakem is…well technically the Tribes of Si Wong but they’re composed of unified principalities," he amended and felt his head throb at the daunting task of trying to remember all eight of the Earth Kingdoms. Each one was as confusing as the one previous. Especially Garsai and Gaoling. Whoever decided to make the names so similar was a cruel individual. He wondered how strangers (and gods) could put their faith in him, even though for twenty years he had been in a secluded civilization. He knew next to nothing of the outside world, of the nation he would perhaps one day be lord over.
"You'll learn," Tenoch offered. "You have time." He looked sympathetically at Lu-Ten. "Luckily for you, my boy, we are going to introduce you to a friend that will teach you these things."
The Sun People were well behind them now, and the Twin Caves and the dragons long in the distance. There was no going back, Lu-Ten thought. Not even if he wanted to. The only thing ahead of them was the mercantile road that would lead them directly to Arakem. The architecture of the structures he had seen had become markedly different, a multitude of cultural influences that had come together to create something unique on its own. Imperial Fire Nation here, Western Earth Kingdom there, touches of Arakem and Garsai abound. Culture seemed less distinct at the borders and some people that Lu-Ten saw had pale skin and emerald green eyes, or dark brown skin and eyes like chips of citrine.
"They'll have to teach Yaretzi, too," Lallo said teasingly, "since she's going to be a queen. The first Sun Warrior one at that!” He nudged his sister, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few days.
Tenoch's lips twitched into a smile. "Yes," he agreed, "she will have to learn, as well. The world outside of our city is very different. The other firebenders are not like us."
"What do you mean?" Lu-Ten asked. He had heard those words before, and he knew them to be true, but no one had ever delved into the details of them.
"We still teach the original message of the flames- fire gives and it takes away," Tenoch explained, "but the others...their bending is drawn from rage and unbalance. They move with force instead of flowing with the natural course of energy. They've been imperialists for too long, they've forgotten peace." He walked, powerful shoulders forming a straight line like the horizon. "The change will be a long time in the coming, but you will lead them, my boy."
"As sure as the sun rises," affirmed Dejen and the words seemed foreign when coming from the mouth of a non-Sun Warrior. It did not hold the same weight, the same promise of summer and better days.
They camped at the crown of a hill as evening fell, facing the direction of the sunrise. At the foot of the hill lay a city that had tiered pagodas and gently sloping roofs, and geometric buildings that appeared in every corner. It lay between two hills, though the other hill was on the other side. Lu-Ten threw furtive glances at his wife as he helped set up their flimsy tents, holding the stakes in place as Lallo struggled to reinforce them in the dying daylight.
"What's with her?" Lu-Ten asked his friend, jerking his head in the direction of his wife. "She hasn't said a word to me all day. Or to anyone for that matter."
Lallo glanced at his sister, sitting away from them with her knees drawn up to her chest. "I have three sisters," he said by way of reply, "and they all baffle me. Even Temena. One day she wants to play with dolls with me, and the next she hates my guts. Yaretzi’s probably in a bad mood. Or maybe it's her...you know." He let out a yelp as the stone he had been using to hammer the stakes came down on his thumb. "I don't know, Lu-Ten, why don't you just go talk to the girl? Isn’t she supposed to be your wife?”
Lu-Ten shrugged and pushed himself to his feet, striding over to join Yaretzi where she sat. If she heard him approach then she did not acknowledge him. Lu-Ten waited.
Yaretzi ignored him, brown eyes focused on the world beyond their campsite.
"What's wrong?" Lu-Ten questioned as he sat next to her, holding out a hand to touch her shoulder. He thought better of it and let it fall limply to his lap.
Yaretzi bit her bottom lip and looked away, like a guilty child might when they were caught in a lie. Yaretzi had never been denied anything in her life, but she had mastered the art of pouting. Her hair had been pulled high on top of her head, and like the rest of them, the shorn sides had begun to grow in. She stretched her legs out. With her toes pointed inward and her hands clasping her arms, she did not seem so grown or womanly. She did not look like a temple attendant who devoutly served the gods. She was merely a girl.
"Tell me," Lu-Ten commanded and winced at the sharpness in his voice. He sighed. "Yaretzi…”
Yaretzi refused to look at him, instead at her feet and when Lu-Ten raised her chin with his fingers she looked past his shoulder. He pinched on her cheeks until she focused her dark stare on him. "I want to go home," she answered finally, quietly, her voice being carried on the warm breeze.
Lu-Ten guffawed before he could stop himself. Yaretzi glared at him. "I'm surprised," Lu-Ten, swallowing the callous laughter rising up his throat, "you were so ready to leave. You were the one who convinced me to set out and now you want to go home? After you made me abandon everything?” His wife scowled and Lu-Ten curled his lip in aggravation. "Well," he said resolutely, "we can't."
Yaretzi swelled, her tan skin darkening with anger, and just as quickly she sank back into her skin. A ragged, melancholy sigh was extracted from her as she stood, making a show of moving away from him. "Well, you don't have to worry about me invading your space," she replied acerbically, "I'll sleep under the stars where Citlali can see me. Maybe she'll take me home, yes?" She stomped away from him.
Lu-Ten threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh now you're just being ridiculous. Where did all this come from?" He grabbed her fleshy arm, pulling her back to him against his chest. Lu-Ten pinned her forearms in place, her skin hot under his fingers. He could feel the other men staring at him. "Yaretzi."
"Let go of me," she commanded and on the same exhale she added, "please."
He pulled away, as if she had burned him. Her eyes were as hard as flint. She sauntered away from him a little ways further down the hill, just outside of the campsite. Lallo came wordlessly to his side. After a moment, the shorter Sun-Warrior cocked his head. "Leave her be," he said finally. "She'll come around." He put a hand on Lu-Ten's shoulder. "She's mad because she can't get her way."
Of course, Lu-Ten thought, ire rising. Of course. For as much as he knew, Yaretzi had never been told no for anything. Not even marriage. She had been doted on by the women of their city her whole life, their precious little priestess doll with her thick black hair and perfectly heart shaped face. He looked over his shoulder at Tenoch and Dejen, who it seemed had deemed fit to stay out of the affairs of youngsters.
Following Lallo back to the tents, Lu-Ten sat heavily. The older men finished their tasks and came to join him. "We will reach Hijira tomorrow," Tenoch said and Lu-Ten knew Hijira to be the name of the city they were heading to at the base of the small mountain. "You boys should rest."
Lu-Ten opened his mouth to protest, but the older man raised his hand. "I will look out for Yaretzi," Tenoch reassured him, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder, giving a wry smile. "I know my girl."
Dejen retired first and then Lallo, leaving Lu-Ten and Tenoch alone by the fire. Lu-Ten ran the pad of his thumb over his bracelet, feeling the cool dragon scale. He let out a sigh and then turned to the older Sun Warrior. "I want to know the whole story," he said, "from beginning to end. Spare me no details."
Tenoch nodded in understanding. "I must first tell you of the world." He shifted, putting his hands on his knees. "There was once a time of gods and men, a time of balance. You know of Citlali and Tenochizun and of Agni. The gods and the spirits loved this realm and they loved man. But the gods are cruel and so are their creations, they are all greedy beings. The humans wanted to access the spirit world at their own leisure, entering and exiting the portals as they pleased, disrupting the natural order of the spirit-gods with their meddling.”
Lu-Ten listened.
"Angered by the path man had chosen, the gods turned their backs on this realm. And during this time, the four nations of the world fell from balance. You know this, yes?" Tenoch asked and Lu-Ten nodded. "The House of your father sought to conquer the world and bring everyone under the rule of the Fire Nation. It began with your great-great grandfather and continued to your great grandfather and then your grandfather. The seeds were planted long ago, but it took many years for the buds to sprout. And as you will learn, my boy, all empires have been born from blood and fire. Fire Lord Sozin, your great grandfather, was the one who brought the Air nation to its knees. His wife gave him one son."
"My grandfather," Lu-Ten said.
"Your grandfather. Azulon showed great promise for much of his life, he was the pride of your dynasty. They called him the Rising Sun. He fathered two sons. Your father, the Crown Prince, was the golden child and the most beloved of your grandfather. Iroh studied at the University of Ba Sing Se when he was around your age. And there he learned much of what I am telling you, my boy. There he learned the truth. The four nations are meant to be separated." Tenoch stared at him in the darkness. "Do you understand?"
Lu-Ten watched the fire leap and die out. "That's how I will restore balance. By destroying what my dynasty built. By continuing what my father and the White Lotus started. And if I don't? Say if I reclaim the throne and then continue on my uncle's path?"
Tenoch's eyes burned hot and savage. "Then you will be disposed of," he answered.
There was no softness in his voice, no jest. It was not meant to be menacing either. It was a promise. Lu-Ten swallowed. Disposed of. It seemed so cool and calm, even though he had just been quietly threatened. If he were to become a problem then he would be taken care of. He wondered why someone hadn't simply "disposed" of his uncle twenty years ago. The White Lotus had so much influence, why couldn’t they have eradicated his uncle’s regime earlier? The answer came to him rather quickly. If they had moved their tiles too early, before Lu-Ten was of age, then they would have created a power vacuum.
"I understand," he replied and Tenoch nodded laconically. After a moment, perhaps a heartbeat, perhaps an hour, Lu-Ten rose and cast a glance at his young wife, her silhouette encircled by the foreign stars. Despite himself, his lips twitched in a brief chuckle. "Are you sure you will watch out for Yaretzi?"
"I promise," the older man offered a reassuring smile and Lu-Ten went into his tent, finding that though his body throbbed from exhaustion, sleep still evaded him.
He listened, closing his eyes and taking in the sound of his breathing and his heartbeat, in the sound of the world outside. He rolled onto his side, unsure of what to do with the new found space normally occupied by his wife. Yaretzi’s presence had become his new custom and he felt lacking in her absence. The gentle pressure of her arm across his chest, her soft hair that somehow found its way in his face, and her bare leg thrown across his hips that left Lu-Ten praying to whatever god listening more often than not. At some point, sleep took him, though he did not recall when, and his rest was dreamless and heavy.
Morning came too quickly for him, shining bright and gray through the crack in his tent. Lu-Ten squinted, stretching his limbs as he crawled out into the weak dawn, finding that the others had not yet risen. He caught sight of a figure curled in upon itself, dark hair draping their shoulders. Yaretzi had her back to the tents, legs drawn up under her. Someone, most likely Tenoch or Lallo, had thrown a thin white blanket over her while she slept.
She stirred when he approached her and turned to face him. Lu-Ten attempted an amicable smile, wondering if they were back on normal terms. She did not reciprocate, nor did she frown, and Lu-Ten considered it safe to sit beside her.
"Guess Citlali didn't take you home," Lu-Ten said.
"No," his wife replied shortly, "she did not."
They sat like that, in their own circle of tense gray silence. Lu-Ten dared to reach for her hand and Yaretzi didn’t refuse him, though her fingers were stiff. He ran his fingers down her forearm in an attempt to draw a giggle, or at least a brief acknowledgment, from her. His skin was shades lighter than hers, gently suntanned as opposed to her rich copper. He tickled her sides, finally managing to pull a laugh from her. He was reminded of the days when he and Lallo were thirteen and Yaretzi only a girl of seven, her peals of laughter rising ever higher as they tossed her between them. Lu-Ten pulled her against him and she batted playfully at his hands. “I missed you,” Lu-Ten breathed into her ear. “Do you still want Citlali to take you home?”
Yaretzi leaned back against him and Lu-Ten stroked her hair. He did not love her as a man should love his wife, though admittedly he desired her in the way that any man would. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. There were a number of days in their short marriage where he had reached for her or taken advantage of the early mornings to roll over, only for Yaretzi to push him away, wide eyed and petrified. Lu-Ten was just a mortal man with mortal desires. (How could he not? Not with her always so tantalizingly beautiful and always within reach. Any other man would have begged for the chance.) He appreciated her in other ways. She was intelligent and determined, soft where he was firm, vocal whenever Lu-Ten brooded in his own thoughts. Perhaps Tonatiuh was right and the love would come later, though Lu-Ten was still uncertain.
Behind them, Dejen and the others emerged. Tenoch smiled slightly at them.
Lu-Ten realized that both Lallo and Yaretzi had the same gentle curvature of the jaw as Tenoch, the way their skin drew taut over their cheeks. Yaretzi had similar eyes. He wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, when they first encountered Tenoch. His memories had removed Tenoch from his childhood, leaving only a broad silhouette that had scooped both him and Lallo up with the same exuberance.
"I hope everyone is in a better mood!" Lallo quipped as he approached, putting his hand on his younger sister's head. She swatted him away good-naturedly.
Yaretzi shrugged her shoulders. Lu-Ten shifted his attention away from the siblings and turned as the two older men cleared their campsite, breaking down their tents. He rose to join them, taking apart his tent and folding it neatly. His wife came to his side, wordlessly rolling his sleeping mat into a bundle. They packed their things away and began the descent into Hijira.
The descent was almost disappointingly easy after their initial trek out of the territory of the Sun Warriors. Their campsite was only a short walk from the trade route known as the Vein of Commerce. Dejen said that the Vein of Commerce ran through all eight Earth Kingdoms, a fact that Lu-Ten found hard to believe. Then again, the older Arakemeti had traversed the world for decades. He knew and had seen things that Lu-Ten could only dream of. The road was paved and wide and had seen generations of use. Trees intermittently lined either side, growing ever sparser as they passed through.
As the sun crawled through the sky, Hijira grew closer with each step. With the hill behind them, Tenoch led them down a road that splintered from the Vein of Commerce. It was cobbled and swept regularly. Along this road they passed through a cluster of houses and as noon drew nearer, the clusters became the outskirts of the city. It rose up around them, a spider’s web of streets and buildings and noise that was almost overstimulating compared to the familiar happenings of their home. People swirled about like fish in a pond, paying little mind to the newcomers. There was no novelty to strangers meandering about their streets. Their features were not particularly noteworthy either. Dark and light, yellow eyes and green. They were at the crux of three nations where blood and coin mixed freely.
Tenoch and Dejen turned down one of the side streets that appeared to be an artisanal district. It smelled of leather and heated metal. There was a smithy, the clanging of metalworking raining heavily on Lu-Ten’s ears. He wandered closer, shadowed by Lallo, to see the men at work. They appeared to be of Fire Nation descent, though one was working the metal with earthbending. On one wall there was a display of expertly crafted swords. One was a katana, hammered into perfection. The lacquered handle was wrapped in a red and gold ribbon. The blade itself was wickedly sharp, its point precise enough to pierce through body and muscle with ease. Lu-Ten’s dagger was impressive but not nearly I the same league as the sword in front of them. The others were fine works of smithing as well, though they had not captivated his attention quite like that one.
Lallo whistled appreciatively. “My machete might be pretty, but that baby right there is absolutely pulchritudinous.” He nudged his sister. “Betcha you didn’t know that was a real word, huh? I’d sell my left foot to have a beauty like that.”
“It is worth quite more than that.” Tenoch came up behind them just as one of the sword makers approached. Tenoch pointed to one of the other blades. It was more like a scythe. “Either someone here is from Banka-Kadi or extremely well traveled. This is nigh identical to the blades I’ve seen forged in Mo-pet.” A hulking man stopped in front of the blade, pulling it from its display post on the wall and offering it to the older man. Tenoch took it from him, grasping the handle with a hold that suggested he had swung such a sword more than once in his life. “I assume this is yours?”
“It is,” grunted the smithsman in response. “Finally finished her about six months ago. Haven’t given her a name yet. But that one up there,” he gestured to the katana they had been appreciating, “that one is the pride and joy of this whole guild. She’s infused with shards from a fallen meteorite.” With his finger he indicated the black streaks that ran through the metal. “I learned from Piando.”
Dejen startled. “Piando?!”
“The one and only.” The three older men exchanged nods of mutual understanding that left Lu-Ten feeling like a child listening to an adult conversation. “No one can forge a sword like him.”
Tenoch turned back to the younger trio. “Master Piando is a sword craftsman and swordsman from the Fire Nation archipelago. He takes very few apprentices to learn his art, and to even hold one of his swords is a great honor.”
Lallo jabbed Lu-Ten in the side with his elbow and the brooding Sun Warrior dropped his head to his brother’s ear. “When you’re king in all, set me up with a sword like that! Use your royal privileges to get my foot in the door.” He whispered for Lu-Ten’s ears along, his smile heard through his words.
Lu-Ten rolled his eyes. “I’m not even in the Fire Nation yet and you’re asking for royal favors.”
Lallo straightened. “Well it wouldn’t hurt to put the idea out there.”
Concluding their discussion, Dejen and Tenoch left the sword crafters in peace. They wandered onto another avenue that stank of agriculture, from Komodo-chickens to zebra-cow. A young boy drove a flock of koala sheep past them through the street, throwing Yaretzi a savage glare when she presented the audacity to touch one. Tenoch grabbed the boy's slender shoulder and Lu-Ten took unabashed amusement in the look of terror that appeared on the boy's face.
The boy opened his mouth to scream, only to be shushed when Dejen put a silver coin in his hand. “Do you live here, boy?” He gave a nod of confirmation. “And you know these streets and this city?”
"Do you know of a woman who is known as the Mailwoman?" Tenoch asked the boy. "She lives in a house with a green roof and a yellow door near the heart of Hijira. She delivers letters through the town.”
The boy seemed to be focused more on his sheep, fingers flexing on the staff he carried, spinning the coin through the fingers on his other hand absentmindedly. "I know no mail woman," he answered at last, "only market man and man who crawls into my older sister's window."
" Oh ," Lallo flinched, "that's just wrong."
Tenoch leaned back onto his heels and nodded. "No matter. Do you know where we might find someone who knows the Mailwoman? Anywhere within Hijira?” He inquired and at this the boy pointed to a street that wound its way to the center of the city. He separated himself from them and continued to usher his sheep.
Hijira became increasingly louder as they ventured deeper within its lively streets. The sounds and smells of industry morphed into the sight of their efforts, from rickshaw bikes with metal doors and a bakery whose storefront advertised delightfully creamy cakes. The men and women within the heart of the city moved with a liveliness that Lu-Ten had not seen amongst the workers. Lu-Ten squared his shoulders and strode across the street to a large palatial structure that took over an entire corner of the city block, protected on three sides by an iron wrought fence. A real king didn't follow, he thought, and if he was supposed to be the Fire Lord , then he figured he might as well get practice.
There were a number of men crowding around the verandah, some dressed like workers and others more refined. A lovely woman in a white and yellow qi-pao passed through them with a tray, offering rice cakes and finger sized danishes. As he stepped up to the building, he was struck by the smell of alcohol and...he cast a glance back at the older men.
The men on the verandah turned around at their appearance and a number of eyes landed directly on Yaretzi. One man smirked, making his way across the space with his hands outstretched. He was of medium height but clearly a man who had seen an unforgiving life if his graying hair and beard were any indication. He approached Yaretzi, who took an apprehensive step back as he reached for her hips. Lu-Ten bristled and moved in front of his wife while Lallo did the same. He blocked her body with his arm. “She’s with me,” he spat out. “And I strongly recommend that you step away.”
“ Strongly.” Lallo emphasized.
The stranger threw up his hands in surrender. “I thought she was a new girl, sorry! Sayuko’s always changing the rotation. I wouldn’t mind getting a chance with that.”
Lallo took a menacing step forward. “I suggest you turn around and walk away. And don’t dare look at my sister again. Unless you don’t value those beady eyes of yours.”
He blanched under the threatening glares of the young woman’s brother and husband. They shoved past him and the group of gawking patrons. Lu-Ten crossed the space to the folding double doors and hesitated. He looked back at Tenoch and Dejen. "It...uh...do I knock or just walk in?"
"Knocking seems like the polite thing to do," Lallo offered and pretended to cover his sister's eyes.
Lu-Ten knocked once and then a second time. After a moment's pause, the door of the building swung open. There in the entrance stood a woman with her hands on her hips. The woman was delightfully fat, clad in gray and white, with curly hair bound into a chignon. She wore a sheer veil pinned to her hair, which was salted with gray. Lu-Ten took a step back. "Hello?"
The woman took one look at him and then at his entourage, lingering on Yaretzi. "If you are soliciting, I need no more mockingrobins at the time, pretty though she may be."
Yaretzi's skin deepened into a bashful red. Lu-Ten managed to clear his throat. "No...soliciting," he said, "we're actually here in search of a woman known as the Mailwoman."
At this, the rotund woman leaned back on her heels and ushered them in, shooing away the men lingering outside. The inside of the establishment was just as intricately designed as the exterior. The foyer was symmetrical even to the potted plants on either side of the door. The hall was long with doors on each side, twelve in total. Off to the left was a kitchen and to the right was a door that opened to the gardens. She led them there, guiding them with an arm as if they were koala sheep. The woman closed the door behind them and stepped down into the garden. It was simple but elegant. Two lemon trees stood at the entrance and violet wisteria hung over a small pond filled with fat golden puff-fish. A single stone bench overlooked the tiny pond. At last the woman cleared her throat.
"I might know of her,” she answered. “But she is not here. The Mailwoman does not visit this place anymore."
Dejen pulled a tile from his pocket that had been engraved with a white lotus flower. How many does he have?! Lu-Ten wondered. He presented it to the woman, whose eyes flickered over all of them. "We are all friends here," said Dejen.
The madame gave a stiff nod as she accepted the Pai Sho tile, tucking it into a fold in her skirt. "Indeed we are. We come in all cultures and colors," she hummed, "but my answer does not change, my friend. The woman you seek is no longer here. She is no longer amongst the living."
Tenoch let out a sharp rush of breath. "Since when?"
The mistress of the brothel averted her gaze. "Of that, I am uncertain. I have heard different things. Some say she was found in Garsai. Others say she was in the archipelago. But in any case the Phoenix King's men caught word of her work. They very nearly found him," at this she looked towards Lu-Ten and it occurred to him that this was very real. A whole network of people had put themselves in danger for twenty years. For him. How many had died to protect him?
Tenoch and Dejen hung their heads. The fat woman led them back inside of her establishment and into the first open door on the right. It was a tea room, complete with two low tables and embroidered cushions for seating. An elaborately designed burgundy rug spread across the floor.
Lu-Ten followed the woman's lead when she sat, folding his legs under him. Lallo sat to his right and Tenoch to his left. The woman studied him, from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, as though she was etching an image of him in her mind. Lu-Ten resisted the urge to fiddle his thumbs.
"I always imagined you to be much shorter," the woman addressed him. "Like Iroh. You take more after your uncle.” It was not the first time he had heard that. With an internal groan, Lu-Ten knew it would not be the last. “I'm fairly sure you are wondering why we are all such cryptic old people who speak of mailwomen." She smiled. "How much do you know?"
"Not much," Lu-Ten admitted.
The older three chuckled. "Tenoch, perhaps your people were too thorough in keeping him out of the Fire Nation's sight." The madame of the gentleman’s establishment said. She returned her attention back to the son of Iroh. "The White Lotus will teach you if you are willing to listen."
Lu-Ten nodded in affirmation. He had listened to the gods- he could stand to listen to rambling old men and women.
"Good," the woman dipped her head just as a young woman entered the room, bowing profusely. The madame beckoned for the girl to set down the tray of a tea kettle and cups she had brought with her. "Then you may call me Sayuko. In truth, the art of diplomacy between nations is not much different than the art of diplomacy behind the curtains. We are, in a sense, ambassadors."
Lu-Ten could almost feel the heat emanating off of Yaretzi's skin, even though she sat away from him. He glanced over at her and saw Lallo stifling a chuckle.
Sayuko flashed a grin. "We will start with lesson one: the delicate art of tea."
Chapter 33: Learning
Chapter Text
Yue
Yue watched as Ty Lee and Azula moved in a perfect ellipse, step for step, inhaling and exhaling in tandem, practiced and perfect. The sun beamed down on them, streaming through the trees in the garden, falling down and turning Azula's eyes to liquid gold. She snaked forward, avoiding Ty Lee's grapples and jabs, swatting them away and dancing away from the gray eyed girl's fists. She moved with a supernatural precision, her movements so sharp and crisp that Yue felt as though she was watching a god.
Yue had taken up Azula's offer on learning to fight. Her experience on Ember Island had bled into her dreams, leaving her longing for her own strength. She might not be a bender, but then again, neither was Ty Lee and she was holding her own.
Azula's blue flames flared to life at her fingertips. She hurled a barrage at Ty Lee, who arched and leapt away from the balls of fire. Yue pursed her lips as Ty Lee threw herself forward, latching onto Azula's shoulders and catapulting herself into the fourth figure in the garden. Prince Zuko, unsuspecting, let out a sound halfway between a grunt and a shout as the light haired girl landed several well-placed punches along his spine and joints.
The Fire Nation's prince folded to his knees, leaving Ty Lee standing triumphantly behind him. "And that's how it's done, Yue!" She cried and hauled Zuko to his feet, massaging the life back into his shoulders and arms.
Yue nodded and couldn't help but look down at her own hands, imagining the potential they held. Ty Lee was demonstrating the ancient art of chi-blocking, the restriction of movement through precise hits to vital energy points. It was an art known to all nations, which led Yue to believe that its origins came before the division of tribes and kingdoms. The pink clad noblewoman twirled over to her, gently taking hold of her wrists. She guided her hands into small fists and held them up for Yue to see.
"Like this," she said and grinned, holding up her own hands. "Now punch." She demonstrated by jabbing the air in an upwards direction, as she had done to Zuko.
The Water Tribe princess followed her lead, feeling the royal siblings staring at her. Not for the first time she wondered what was their incentive behind teaching her to fight. She knew she poised no danger to them- they were all master firebenders, all deadly in their own right, so they had no fear of her attacking them in their sleep. Perhaps they wanted her to return to the North in one piece.
If she ever returned.
"Her form is still poor," Azula commented, smoothing a stray hair back into position "But she's improving somewhat." She offered no smile, no further encouragement, but Yue hadn't expected her to. "Zuko will simply have to endure being the dummy for a little longer."
"I didn't sign up for this," Zuko chimed in from where he sat amongst the flowers, slowly working the feeling back into his arms.
Azula turned towards her brother, lips tilted in a smirk. "We don't always have a choice in things, Zuzu. Now quit your complaining before I tell Princess Yue here about the project Father assigned to you."
"Don't, Azula." Zuko growled and he and his sister held each other's gaze, neither wavering. Yue and Ty Lee seemed to fall away into the background.
Azula's sneer broke the tense silence. "If you say so, dear brother." She glanced over her shoulder at Yue, grinning. "It's quite an explosive project, if you will. I'm sure it will surprise you, Yue." She beckoned the older princess with a come-hither motion. "What do you want to learn next, sword fighting? Zuzu is actually fairly competent. I would hope so after Father hired Master Piando to personally teach you. Do you think you’re up to being a sifu, brother?”
Yue shook her head. She wasn't terribly inclined to learn the art of hacking and stabbing. Azula seemed to have made her into her own little project, intent on turning the tribal princess into her own creation.
Yue wanted nothing of it.
She apologized to Ty Lee and royal siblings, citing another engagement. She had none and they knew it, but Azula let her go anyway, most likely having gotten her fill of the day in tormenting her. Yue picked her way out of the garden, skirting the patches of blood red chrysanthemums and sunset fire lilies meticulously manicured by the palace's gardeners.
The main corridors of the palace were empty as she made her way through them. The Phoenix Queen was attending a social at the house of Lady Such-and-such, some sort of party to celebrate the woman's pregnancy. Yue hadn't been particularly inclined to learn the details or to attend and had been grateful when the queen left without her. She rounded a corner, hearing the swell of male voices. Yue paused as she came upon four men in the hall, walking shoulder to shoulder, heads bent inward to each other. They were in front of her, having apparently entered the hall just moments before her.
Two of the men were elders clad in dark red religious robes, their white hair piled into top knots. The third man wore polished armor and the fourth sported a crown atop ink black hair.
Yue let out a tiny breath, taking a step back. Her shoes squeaked over the polished tile, causing the man with the crown to turn his head just slightly, catching sight over her before she could backtrack around the corner.
Wonderful, Yue thought caustically. She tried to escape one royal only to stumble into another.
The other three men followed the Phoenix King's lead. She did not recognize the men in religious garb but her stomach churned at the sight of the man in armor. Commander Zhao.
Yue willed her heart to slow. She had no cause to fear a brute, especially not now, especially not after what she had done. Her name could be counted amongst murderers now, a red-sashed thug was nothing to shy away from. She squared her shoulders and bowed deepest to the Phoenix King, following with a shallower dip to the others. The Phoenix King’s advisors mirrored her with hushed utters of “Princess”.
Ozai acknowledged her with a curt nod. She had not seen much of the Phoenix King after the fiasco on Ember Island, though Yue wasn't necessarily complaining. According to Azula and Zuko’s cryptic conversations, their father had been swept up in a tirade of affairs that grew by the day.
Zhao smirked and seemed to swell. "Princess Yue," he said, giving her a mocking salute. "You seem to have grown since I've seen you last. Like a blooming ice lily. You seem to have taken well to the Fire Nation."
Yue forced a smile. "Oh yes," she replied prettily. "I take it you're still a Commander and not an Admiral?"
The commander's nostrils flared and Yue thought she saw smoke escape the corners of his lips. He took a menacing step forward and Yue pranced back, throwing a glance towards Ozai. She met his stare and held it for a heartbeat. Surely, she thought, he wouldn't let the commander attack her. She was too valuable for that. And she hoped that the commander wasn't so stupid to think he could harm her. Ozai cleared his throat. Zhao, no fool, halted in his tracks.
"The Fire Sages have brought me interesting news," the Lord of the Fire Nation said and the small old men at his side gave terse grunts of confirmation. His eyes, gold and glorious, two fierce suns, locked Yue in place. "The temples have informed me that a new power has emerged in this world. The Avatar has been reborn. Into the Water Tribes."
Yue tried to stifle her gasp and failed. The Avatar was something out of old legends, intangible like the gods. His existence or nonexistence had been of little importance to her. No one had seen him in generations. If he truly had been reborn amongst her people...
It made sense now.
Ozai had known.
That was why he had a sudden interest in the south, she thought. Not just for the resources. He had said that the Tribes were spiritually abundant. Spirits , she thought in despair, he had known. The Phoenix King wanted more than access to snow and spirits. He wanted the Avatar . There was only one person who could truly overthrow him and his dynasty, and that person had feet in both realms.
A power that can be harvested and used for greater purposes.
"You see, Princess Yue," Zhao smirked, the crow's feet around his eyes turning up, "there has been talk of a campaign to find this Avatar and bring him to the caldera. And resistance would not bode well for your people." He grinned viciously, a stark contrast to the fine patrician features of the king beside him. "Perhaps I will see Admiralty after all."
Yue thought back to the letter she had been forced to sign. Her father would meet the same fate as Hakoda if he did not meet Ozai's demands, and she was merely the pawn on the game board, one of Ozai's most valuable playing pieces for the time being. She had no doubt that once he got what he wanted, she would die. Perhaps by his own hand. Perhaps by Zhao's. Perhaps by Azula's.
Still, she thought, she could buy time for her nation. Perhaps by simply staying alive. Perhaps by a more active approached, Yue was not sure. But she knew that she was of the North, she was a Koi and perhaps she was not as strong or enduring as a Polar Bear Dog, but she was much more than a mere flower.
"If you would pardon my departure, my lord," Yue begged, bowing and ducking away at the second Ozai gave his curt permission. She turned on her heel, feeling eight eyes on her, goading her to run. She didn't allow herself to.
She stumbled her way into her rooms, allowing Tui to jump up and lick her hands. She stroked the polar dog's fur, imaging a land of ice and snow hidden amongst it, a land that was safe and cold. A land that would be razed and turned into ashes and puddles. Yue realized she was panting.
Yue closed her door behind her and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Tui leapt up beside her, raising her eyes to meet Yue's and keening as she put her large paw in Yue’s lap. The princess looked down at the polar dog and then she began to speak.
"I am the princess of the Northern Water Tribe," she said, half to Tui and half to herself, letting the words slip through her lips like a prayer. "I am the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. I will save my people." She looked down at her clenched fists. No amount of chi-blocking or knife wielding could save her or her nation from the firebenders. Oh no, she thought, she was a woman, a courtier. She played a different game.
There was a loose thread in her bed sheet. Yue picked at it, relishing the sensation she acquired as it unraveled. She looked out at the dark garden, with its violet trees and magenta flowers. She rose from her bed and went to the window, pushing it open.
Yue cupped her hand under her chin, breathing in the scent of the earth and the flowers. She could hear the snap of shears and the grunts of working men. She watched as the gardeners came into view, wiping the sweat from their brows as they worked.
One man appeared and Yue perked up upon recognizing him. He was the light haired gardener, carrying a large pair of shears. Yue dared smile from her post and he looked up, lifting a gloved hand in greeting.
"Princess," he called out.
"What is your name?" She asked the gardener, leaning against the windowsill. "You always seem to be so busy tending the gardens."
"Ikem," he replied, tucking his shears under his arm. "And I would hope so, considering it's my job." He flashed a boyish smile at her. "Someone has to keep it pretty around here."
Yue nodded. "It seems to be very pleasing to the queen," she replied and after a heartbeat she added, "and to the Phoenix King as well." She thought she saw a fleeting lapse in his expression, a dark shadow that passed across his features as though he had tasted something sour. "Have you worked here long?"
"Nearly eighteen years," Ikem answered. "Longer than you've been alive, I'd imagine."
"The Phoenix King was already an established man by the time I was born," Yue waved her hand, as if dismissing the banal comment. She was admittedly impressed, he hadn't asked about her hair within five minutes of speaking to her. Her unique locks were typically the topic of conversation, complete with backhanded compliments. "What led you here?"
Again Ikem paused. "I was told there was a gold bricked road to happiness and wealth," he said sardonically. "Instead I found only flowers and hedonists. If I may speak freely, this place is too opulent for a man such as myself. I'm admittedly a simple man from a simple city. You've heard of Hira'a?"
Yue shook her head.
"The queen comes from Hira'a," Ikem told her, voice lowering as though he was sharing an intimate secret with her.
Yue could not imagine Ursa, who seemed to have been born for the role as Phoenix Queen, hailing from a place called Hira'a. "Oh," Yue dipped her head. "Well, I won't keep you from working, Ikem." She smiled a princess's smile and stepped away from her window as the gardener returned to his work. She turned to Tui, resting her paws supporting her snout. "One day," Yue whispered to the dog, "we'll see the North together."
She dreamt of Kuruk, her brother, that night. In her dream he was a grown man, having long since left his plump, childish days behind. She was returning from somewhere in her dream, though she wasn't sure where, when she found him sitting on their father's dais, his dark locs clacking with beads.
"Kuruk," she whispered in her dream and went to embrace him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, taking delight in the warmth that emanated from her dream-brother. "Kuruk, I'm home."
Kuruk did not acknowledge her. Yue pulled away from him, frowning. She followed the direction of his gaze, towards the lower tiers of the city.
They were on fire.
A Fire Nation flag taunted her in the distance, red as blood and gold, its flame snapping proudly in the wind.
Yue let out a cry. She looked at her brother, finding his face had been streaked with red. She looked down at her hands, finding them coated with blood. Yue began to scream. She reached for Kuruk, grabbing his hands. She begged him to run with her, to flee, but her brother did not budge. Blood ran hot over her fingers, its source unknown, dark and unending, lapping at her, threatening to pull her under...
Tui pulled at the blankets, whimpering. She pawed pitifully at Yue, letting out a low growl as the princess dragged herself out of her slumber, finding her skin and gown cold and clammy from sweat. Yue sat up, finding her room dyed a celestial white from the moonlight streaming in. The moon was full.
Sitting up, Yue drew her knees to her chest. She held out her hands, checking them for blood and finding none she tucked them under her armpits. Yue turned her face towards the moon, letting the bright light wash over her face like a familiar friend's kiss. Yue brought a hand to her cheek, finding it damp, and she realized that she had been crying in her nightmare.
"This place will be the death of me," she grumbled to Tui and for a moment she did not recognize her own voice. Yue of the Northern Water Tribe would've never spoken so sharply. But this Yue, this Yue who had killed a man, was different.
Sleep evaded her for the rest of the night and Yue watched as the sun reappeared on the horizon, casting weak streams of light through her window. Yue stood and strode to the adjacent bathroom. She drew her own water, making it as hot as she could stand. She poured in a heap of fruit-scented body wash, watching as suds formed. Steam rolled up to her face, condensing on the mirror behind her. Yue peeled her clothes away from her body and pulled out the pin keeping her hair in place.
Yue climbed into the tub, resting her arms on the gilded rim. Her hair floating around her, white in this world of red and gold. Everything about her stuck out like a crooked thumb. The groan she let out was a ragged one, an aged one.
Perhaps, she thought, this was what it felt like to be a waterbender, to be one with the water. Her people were born of the water, an affinity for it ran in her blood.
There was a knock on the main door of the suite. Yue heard Tui snarl and then yelp, but before she could rise Azula stormed into the bathroom. She'd traded her armor for a lady's dress. The dress was high collared with copper embroidery, having a high slit up the side to reveal the silk leggings underneath. The princess wore burgundy and she wore more hair down than Yue was accustomed to seeing.
Yue sank further in the water to hide her nakedness but Azula rolled her eyes. Still, Yue was relieved when the younger girl averted her gaze. "Is there something you need, Princess?"
Azula sat on the edge of the tub, making sure to keep her dress away from the water. "Vicious dog you have there," she sneered, "a good solid kick showed it who's superior, though." She turned to look at Yue. "I was unable to evade Mother this morning, which unfortunately for you means you can't escape me. We will be hosting a tea party thrown in honor of some up-jumped noble. No one really cares about new names. Except for Mother. It’s bad enough she’s planning another stupid gala. Father ought to have a tighter hold on his purses.”
"Oh," Yue said meekly.
"I imagine she's trying to find a husband for me," Azula went on, wrinkling her nose. "It’s the stupidest endeavor. I am the Phoenix Princess. No man can give me what I already have." She smirked. "Did your family send you south to marry? Perhaps the Southern boy? I heard he wasn’t much younger. You're certainly of age. However, I doubt anyone will want you when you go home. You’ll be an old spinster.”
Yue shook her head. It had certainly been a part of her parents’ plans, though they had never explicitly said so. "I'm a princess," she said, "anyone who marries me will be in line to be chief if anything ever happened to Kuruk.”
Azula's lips twitched but she didn't reply. She stood and moved to exit the bathroom. At the last second she turned, hurling a cerulean fireball into the tub. Yue screamed as the water bubbled, flinging herself onto the tile. She scrambled for a towel, pulling herself into a ball. Azula let out a laugh, dry and cruel. "I always wondered what would happen," she said with a savage grin, stepping gracefully to the door of the suite, "those exercises have come in handy for you." She exited then, leaving behind the smell of smoke and spice, the air shivering in her wake.
Trying to calm her rapid heartbeat, Yue climbed to her feet. She wrapped the towel tightly around her, willing herself to stop trembling. Azula was needlessly cruel, Yue reminded herself and scolded herself for thinking otherwise. She crossed to the wardrobe, glancing sympathetically at Tui licking her flank where she had been kicked.
Her hands shook as she pulled out an acceptable garment. The long sleeve dress was red-violet with shimmering blue and white crests along the hem. It was cut to hug her frame in a way that accentuated her femininity. Yue studied it, wondering how the Crown could afford to have so many luxuries. Of course, you can afford anything when you subjugate others. She laid it out and turned to the vanity, hesitating.
Her hair comb remained where it had been placed after the return from Ember Island. A servant had cleaned it and returned it, but Yue hadn't been able to bring herself to wear it, knowing that it had been lodged in a man's throat.
Now she sat, taking note of herself in the raw. Her hair settled heavy and damp against her, highlighting the stark contrast between skin and eyes. At some point in the last few months she'd aged; her birthday was approaching silently and swiftly. She brushed a hand across the length of her neck and set her hands flat on the vanity top.
Everything in her vicinity had been built and bought by a people blindly following a family that thrived on cruelty, a family that held no qualms against killing. This she knew. This she had always known. She began to work her hair into the braids of her people, high and proud, for the first time in months. Today she would not wear a topknot or low braids like the firebenders. She wrapped her fingers around the comb, thinking of her land crumbling to slush. Let Azula toy with her, she thought, let them treat her like a priceless commodity. She was a princess. She could take dignity in that. It was all a part of the game that Yue was learning to play. She rose and turned to face the Fire Nation.
Zuko was standing outside of her door when she emerged, propped up against the wall in a stance that reminded Yue of Azula. He wore a fine brown and gold embroidered tunic that ended at his hips and pants that tapered at the ankles into his signature boots. Yue had yet to understand why everyone in this spirits-forsaken country were so enraptured with those hideous pointy-toed shoes. He looked up and gave her a genuine smile. He was handsome enough, it was increasingly apparent that he would grow to be the striking image of his father. Of them all, he was the one who treated her as more than a plaything. He listened attentively when she spoke and she respected him enough to do the same. “Azula decided to torture us both,” he said goodnaturedly and offered his arm. Yue took it, slipping her own through his. “I suppose it’s better to get it over with. I think Mother just likes to parade us around like dolls. You’re just her newest little trinket.”
“Such is the way of royalty,” Yue murmured in response. “And this tea party, for whom is it?”
The Crown Prince shrugged. “No clue, honestly. The gala will be pretty important, though. That’s why Zhao is here…well also for other reasons.”
Yue inconspicuously ground her teeth. Zuko might be sweet, Zuko might be kind, but he was also his father’s son. She patted his arm and he flushed, and as they walked Yue built a game of her own.
The tea party was to be hosted in the largest garden in the complex, a monstrously large curated design of ferns and willows and man made streams that resembled a forest more than anything else. Maintenance was an all day endeavor, and Yue pitied the poor men who had to do it. The domestic servants had strung up beads and lanterns from the trees, and a temporary pavilion had been set up in the center. The Phoenix Queen and her entourage had already begun making their arrangements at the tables. Yue spotted a number of green eyed children, which Zuko had explained was an unfortunate trend burning its way through the more atavistic families of the Fire Nation nobility. The concept was something she had yet to understand.
The newly elevated family was easy to spot. It was a young man and his equally young wife, dressed in newly commissioned clothes. They stood almost unnaturally straight, as if to make themselves larger than they were. The ancient nobles were notably more relaxed, donning clothing that bore their ancestral sigils. A dragonfly, a leopard toad, a catdeer. Yue spotted Mai and presumably her mother, who shared her daughter’s looks but none of her disposition. She held a parasol with a striped raven, which oddly seemed to suit the family.
Azula looked as though she had swallowed a lemon and would rather be anywhere else. Her father wore the same apathy on his countenance, his lack of interest apparent in both his stance and attire. He wore a tunic similar to Zuko’s, his flame crown holding his ink dark hair into place. Zuko led Yue over to his parents and sister. Azula raked over her appearance. “About time.”
Ursa’s hand squeezed her daughter’s forearm. “Azula,” she said through a gritted smile, “let’s be pleasant.”
“That’s like asking a sloth to fly,” Zuko muttered and his sister twisted her lip.
Yue scanned the crowd. There was a cluster of high ranking men from the army and the navy. She saw that the male recipient was wearing a sash and medal of a Fire Nation commander. She stifled the urge to frown at the sight of Zhao. Her gut twisted. His presence reminded her that the Avatar was alive and her nation was in grave danger. She swallowed. “I’m assuming he was ennobled because of valor?” She said instead.
Zuko nodded. “He single-handedly dispatched a wannabe war lord in the western islands, who also happened to be an Iroh loyalist. I read the reports, he’s actually a pretty impressive guy. His name is Szenin. Lord Szenin now, I suppose. From the same original island as Tzumoro’s ancestors.” He nodded stiffly as a few lords greeted them, slipping easily into the role as Crown Prince as though it was his second skin. “He’s incredibly loyal to our family. My father, more specifically.”
Most men that preferred to keep their heads attached to their bodies were. Fire Nation politics were not unlike those of her homeland, though the stakes were notably higher. Just how many men had disappeared after displeasing the Phoenix King, only to be replaced by another who bowed and knew when to keep their mouths shut? She looked on. You climb, or you die. You either light the match or you burn.
Chapter 34: A Ghost in the Night
Chapter Text
Zuko
Father was angry. Zuko could see it in the way he moved, the way the fire dancing around him was tinged white, whipping furiously like lightning. Could see it in the way his jaw clenched and shook ever so slightly. Zuko mentally made a list of all the things he had done wrong in the last few days, for his father's fury was an ugly, unpredictable thing. He had seen many men on the receiving end. Many had left horrifically burned, others…
He'd made no transgressions, at least not recently. And their training session was going remarkably well- he could keep up with his father for once, matching him flame for flame, blow for blow. His father was distracted, his eyes and mind elsewhere. Otherwise Zuko wouldn’t have stood a chance. He could match Azula with ease; though where she was a prodigy, Zuko had honed his skill through sheer tenacity. Father could still wipe the floor with either of them if he wanted.
Zuko wondered if he should ask what was pestering him and then decided better of it. Azula would ask, but Zuko was not Azula and for that he was grateful.
An instinctive roar ripped from his throat as he split the wave of fire coming at him, firing back with his own barrage. His father stepped sideways, his loose hair fluttering with him. His father's arms churned in swift methodical circles, the air around him stirring to life. Electricity began to spark around his fingertips, bright and deadly, beautiful and fatal.
For a moment Zuko paused, rapt, as the particles of energy separated, trembling in the air. Ozai brought his hands together and aimed them at the Crown Prince. The lightning crashed together, arcing viciously in the air between them.
Zuko closed his eyes and allowed his instincts to take command. He extended one arm, feeling the hair on his arms rise as the lightning coursed through him, raw energy that set his blood alight. He guided the energy into him, into his core, and pushed it out through his other arm. The lightning surged into the sky with a thunderous crack before it was gone, dissipating back into the air.
His father stepped back, signaling the end of spar. His lips twisted in a way that suggested he was impressed and Zuko preened himself with pride. He realized he was sweating as his feet slid back into place, giving a bow of deference to his father. Surreptitiously wiping his brow, Zuko awaited his father's dismissal.
Instead, Ozai gestured for his son to follow him. Zuko did as he was bid, lingering just a pace behind as respect dictated him too. Disrespect had gotten men maimed and killed, exiled and "disappeared".
They ambled through the palace complex away from the training grounds and back to the inner sanctuary, where statesmen in silk red greeted his father and then addressed him, almost as an afterthought. They all feared his father, as most people did. Zuko didn't blame them- a man who had overthrown his brother was meant to be feared.
They walked and Zuko waited, certain that his father was not merely enjoying his company. Ozai had his hands behind him, one hand grasping the wrist of the other arm. They walked under the arch that connected the main palace to the administration buildings, with a courtyard on one side and a long mall on the other. The open space was historically a place where battles of Agni Kai- fights of honor between firebenders- took place. A royal Agni Kai had not taken place in years. Zuko knew that the Traitor Iroh had challenged his father, but soon after he was dead. Statues of Azulon in his prime lined the mall. "Your mother wishes to see you betrothed in the next year," Ozai said without preamble as they passed under another arch. He kept his gaze sidelong, seeming to look at everywhere else but at his son. "She has given you three options. The friends of your sister, or the Water Tribe girl."
Zuko sputtered. The Water Tribe princess was their hostage and he was fairly certain that the Northern Water Tribe would not take kindly to their lost princess being betrothed to her captor. He wondered why his mother had become so set on seeing him married and then he realized that like everyone else in the palace, he was a game piece to be manipulated and played. Except he was the most important, he was the Crown Prince and the heir. He and Azula, and Yue, were the king's most coveted Pai Sho tiles. He liked Yue well enough, who had become markedly more interesting after she took up combat lessons, but could not see himself marrying her. Or anyone for that matter. Mai was pleasant in her stiff, apathetic way and according to Azula she was head over heels for him. Azula was notorious for lying. "And I have to make up my mind now?"
The Phoenix King did not reply, which Zuko took to be a negative answer. Zuko imagined the idea of marriages made his hard-faced, authoritarian father just as uncomfortable as it made him. Of their family, it seemed that only the Phoenix Queen had the predilection to the softer ideas of love and happiness in marriage- even Azula shunned it.
Then again, Azula shunned anything she couldn't dominate.
Ozai looked at his son, at the space between his eyebrows, and Zuko could feel the heat rolling off of him in palpable waves. "The Avatar has returned," he said shortly.
Zuko wondered if that was supposed to mean anything to him. He knew of the Avatar in the way that all children knew of the Avatar: he was the only mortal who could traverse the world of the gods and spirits and the world of men. The only one who could bend all four elements. He had disappeared generations ago and had fallen into myth. Zuko hoped his confusion did not show on his face.
"...is this a bad thing?" He asked, mostly to himself.
His father had every opportunity to strike him or reprimand him, but he seemed too caught up in his own vision. For all of Zuko’s life, he had known his father to fall into his imaginings and epiphanies that more often than not resulted in someone suffering in one way or another. Ozai was a man who calculated his moves. First initiating the project of the blasting jelly, and then sending letters to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. It had all served its purpose in its own time. "The temples reported a resurgence of activity that could only be explained by his rebirth. The cycle has been traced to two points of possibility."
Zuko had not been foolish enough to think that his father's sudden interest in the Water Tribes had been for anything other than power. He had not fathomed, however, what kind of power. The Avatar was alive amongst the waterbenders, possibly already discovered and under their protection.
Possibly being fostered as a weapon against the Fire Nation.
It was very clever of his father, Zuko thought. He had tried to be diplomatic, but the incorrigible Southern chief had refused to agree. It was a shame, truly, but all things had to be done for the good of their dynasty. It would not be the first savage thing his father had done (Zuko's mind drifted to the story of his uncle and the boy who would've been his cousin).
All empires, Zuko thought, were made of blood and fire.
The ships, the blasting jelly. Of course, Zuko realized and could not stop his stomach from churning. Destroying the North to find the Avatar was like burning down the palace to kill a fly. Killing the chief had been like slaughtering a merchant in order to find the one who had cheated him.
His family had a history of overkill.
He begged his father for dismissal and it was granted to him. Zuko made his way back into the palace proper, surprised that he had not encountered Azula. She was probably abusing poor Yue, who had been unfortunate enough to become the current source of his sister's entertainment. He had seen the Water Tribe princess awake during the earliest stretches of the morning, running laps around the training yards with her white dog at her heels. Azula took great delight in using the both of them and Zuko shuddered inwardly at the memory of yesterday's experience with Ty Lee's chi - blocking. It had become a regular occurrence to the point where he knew exactly how to knead the pain away.
The corridors were busy, as the palace was preparing to host a gala for some distant cousin who had fallen into money and blue blooded nobility. It was Mother's idea and the rest of them simply fell in line. She never tired of her tea parties and galas and philanthropy. Lanterns of prosperity were hung from the roofs and the dark tiled falls were in the process of being waxed.
Claws clicked on the floor and a mass of white lunged towards him, appearing from around a corner in a flash of glinting teeth. Zuko raised his arms and let the snarling beast fly over his shoulders, landing onto all fours on the other side of him. Tui hated them all with an understandable passion, and Yue had channeled the dog’s boundless energy to serve as a useful tool in the training grounds. More than once Zuko had found himself avoiding the gnashing teeth of a white polar dog hungry for firebender blood.
Yue came running after her polar dog, hands covering her mouth. She slid, both of her legs in either direction, arms working in frenzied circles. Zuko reached out as she slammed half into him and half into the wall.
What timing , he mused. Zuko held her steady, hands on her shoulders, and looked down into her face. Despite himself, his discussion with his father came to mind and a hot blush came upon his cheeks.
The princess of the Northern Water Tribe pushed away from him, spewing out an apology for both her clumsiness and the behavior of her pet. She threw a glare at the hall she had left. "Sorry," she said, adjusting herself. "I was chasing after Tui and didn't realize how slippery the floor was."
Zuko noticed that she was not looking at him, hard blue eyes instead focused over his shoulder. Her voice had changed as well- it seemed harsher and clipped, impatient, even. Zuko, not fluent in the language of women, wondered what he did wrong. They had gotten along well at the tea party- she had even allowed him to escort her on his arm like a true honorable Fire Nation prince. Azula was the only woman who vocalized her displeasure in a way that he could understand.
The Prince was tempted to ask what was wrong, but he remembered that Yue had every right to hate every single one of them. She was their hostage, a valuable playing piece yet still a disposable one. She was surrounded and vulnerable. Her hatred did not have to be explained.
But still, it hurt. Just a bit.
Yue whistled and her dog trotted back to her, crouching at the princess's feet. "If you will excuse me, I am going to the library."
Zuko stepped aside to grant her passage and he could not stop the image of the North crumbling and burning from taking over his vision. The project was going better than expected, much to his father and the Ministry of Development’s pleasure. The first three tons of blasting jelly had been refined and had been carefully stored in a temperature controlled warehouse on a small island in the archipelago. The storage compartments of the vessel had been completed. The thought formed a chasm in his gut. He imagined Yue kneeling before his father's dais, burned and bloodied, sobbing. "I'm sorry," he blurted out.
The white-haired young woman froze in her tracks, tilting her head to look back at him. "For what?"
For what's going to happen to your home. For having to murder a man. Zuko clenched his jaw, sweltering under her frigid stare. He shook his head and tried not to fumble his words. "I...just wanted to apologize?"
She gave him a terse smile, one that failed to reach her eyes, and turned away from him. Her pet waggled its haunches, as if preparing to make a second charge. Zuko decided not the take the chance.
The princess left just as quickly as she had appeared, though noticeably more graceful. Zuko watched her go, tasting ashes in his mouth and he knew that all empires were cut from blood and fire, but still. But still.
On the night of the gala some days later it rained, gently and quietly, sliding languidly down the windows of the palace. The guests of the Phoenix King were safe inside, however, drifting through the halls like aimless wraiths with their finery and soft silks and even softer voices. Pleasant music wound its way from the entertainment wing and servants ghosted through the crowd of nobility bearing small appetizers.
Zuko adjusted the high collar of his tunic once more and an old woman continued to describe her daughter to him, young Lady Such-and-such who danced wonderfully and had a head full of the prettiest, blackest hair. He nodded absently and craned his neck at the same time, searching for any path of escape.
He found one in Azula, savagely berating a servant for serving her the wrong wine, golden eyes ablaze. The poor girl cowered before the princess, whimpering apologies. Zuko crossed over to his sister, whose gaze snapped up to him.
"Is it so hard to find decent employees?" His sister complained. "This is what happens when you let Mother do the hiring. Pathetic." She rolled her eyes and stepped back into the shadows, pulling Zuko along with her. Raking a manicured finger down the side of his neck, Azula pointed out two figures in the crowd. "You see that woman, Zuzu? She wanted me to introduce her daughter to you. She’s such a lovely darling who did well in her final exams and has the most perfect singing voice. Mind you her daughter is twelve. And the man," she gestured to a man who appeared to be in his thirties, standing at the other side of the room, "that's Takuma's new replacement. Tzumoro.”
It had taken months to find one and train him in the art of the old man's position. Zuko thought of the mysterious circumstances of Takuma's death and he hoped - for the sake of this new man- that the same fate would not befall him. He hadn’t displeased Father yet, but Zuko doubted he was being honest with his advice. Takuma had been with Ozai long enough that his opinion was actually respected, even when his council directly opposed the Phoenix King’s ideas.
"Where is she?" Azula asked suddenly.
It didn't take long for Zuko to figure out just what "she" Azula was talking about. He searched the long hall, locking in on the young woman conferring with a group of older men and women. Princess Yue was adorned in audacious blue, white hair screaming against the dark colors of the hall. Her neck was thrown high, comb glinting like a coronet in her topknot. She stood in the proximity of the Phoenix King, who looked just as agitated as his children but otherwise did not seem to be bothered by her presence. Zuko saw that the girl's eyes were ablaze with a hot deep set emotion that he could only define as disgust, lessened only by her perfect courtier’s smile.
He could only describe it as hatred.
"How dare that peasant, " Azula hissed through her teeth, fire leaping into her eyes. "Standing next to Father as if she belongs there!"
The Phoenix King didn't seem to mind the Water Tribe princess and Zuko didn't see an issue either, but Azula seemed to boil with rage. Zuko wondered what made female emotions run so high. “She’s royalty like us,” he quipped and Azula glared at him. “Maybe Father invited her into the conversation.”
She looked small and plain next to the grandiose Phoenix King, though she was by no means a short woman. Father seemed much older when compared to the girl standing just behind him, though he was only thirty-nine. One of the courtiers asked an inaudible question and Zuko saw Yue form her beaming smile as she answered. Zuko’s father’s eyebrow twitched in a minuscule display of amusement.
Azula seethed.
The musicians struck up a ballad. A number of young women flocked to Zuko, begging for a chance to dance with him. Ever the honorable young man, he obliged and even spun around with Lord Tzumoro’s eight year old daughter. When he glanced back at his sister, he saw that Azula was stomping on the toes of the unfortunate man who had asked her for a dance. She was smirking at his discomfiture, somehow being the only person who could make being mean a work of art. Zuko switched partners, finding himself facing Mai. His sister’s companion blushed and smiled as much as she was capable of, which wasn’t much at all but Zuko had seen worse.
Yue was dancing with Lord Tzumoro, surprisingly keeping apace with the music. Zuko could see his father standing away from the others, his eyes in one place and then another. They settled on Yue. Zuko felt a knot form in his stomach as he remembered his discussion with his father. He found himself exchanging partners until his hands were grasping Princess Yue’s, allowing himself to smile. They spun together wordlessly, Yue’s dainty steps falling into line with his until the music ended. Azula tossed her poor dance partner aside as Yue slipped away.
“What was that?” Azula snarled, craning her neck in search of the older princess. “What is she now? The Jewel of the Fire Nation, too?”
Zuko opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it.
"Go find Mother," Azula ordered. "She must be the most beautiful one here, not her."
Ah, thought Zuko. Petty jealousy was the culprit at work here. He obliged, preferring not to face the wrath of his sister or to remain any longer in the swamp of pettiness and anger.
Squeezing through the guests and swatting aside reaching hands, he left the gala hall, leaving the crowd behind.
Zuko checked the party rooms first and did not find his mother. That was peculiar. Mother made herself known at all of her socials, flitting about like a butterfly so vibrant that all eyes never left her. His mother had a way of making everyone feel as though they were the most perfect person in the world. Zuko frowned as he meandered through the halls, finding himself in the private wing of the palace. These, too, were empty.
He found only a servant, nervously entertaining the Northern princess's polar dog with a knot of rope. For once Tui seemed at ease, her massive paw batting at the rope, her plume tail lashing with adolescent glee. Beautiful though she was, Zuko had seen enough of her to know she was a formidable creature. A far cry from the squealing pup that had arrived with Yue. They had both changed in that regard. No longer meek and mild. The canine turned its eyes onto him at the disturbance, baring her teeth. Upon recognizing him, the dog let out a deep moaning growl, white tail raised high in a threatening flag. Zuko threw up his hands in surrender and took a wary step back. He turned heel and moved back the way he had come, back into the main halls. He could feel her eyes piercing him, no doubt imagining digging her teeth in his leg.
He passed the queen's gardens, pausing to drink in their beauty. She had redesigned them on her own after she assumed the position of Lady of the Fire Nation, creating a different theme for each. Zuko’s favorite was the Sunrise Garden, aptly named for its red and orange flowers and the winding stream where the turtleducks had made their home. He took pleasure in feeding them when he had the chance; a fond memory of his childhood days when his mother would pull him away and spoil him.
The Twilight Garden was closest to Yue’s suite. The flora there consisted of deep blue and violets, splashes of burgundy and languid dark greens. The lotus pond shimmered and there amongst the lilies cast in starlight, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation found his mother.
She was on the far side of the garden where there were no windows and most of the area was secluded by black-bole trees and shrubs.The Phoenix Queen had her back pressed against the wall of the palace, skirts lifted to her thighs like a common courtesan, pale hands grasping hair that was not his father's. The man was holding her up, face buried in the crook of her neck, countenance obscured. For a moment- an eternal heartbeat - Zuko did not understand what he was seeing. He took a step forward, preparing to bring fire to his palms. His mother was being dishonored and he could not would not stand for it.
A sharp intake of breath stole his attention. Zuko looked to the left of him, to the other side of the garden where the other hall met the garden entrance. Swathed in darkness, white hair aglow in the damp night, the princess Yue met his gaze. They held each other there for an eternity, neither speaking nor daring to look away. The lady Ursa and the man paused and she turned her lovely white neck to Zuko's direction.
Her eyes widened and Zuko, his heart beginning to race, turned tail and fled.
He returned to the celebration, finding that everyone had migrated to the dining hall. A place at been set for him on the left of his father and beside that was Azula. Zuko sat down heavily, focusing on the mat underneath the empty bowl in front of him.
Soon after, Yue came and sat on the other side of Azula, throwing them both a radiant smile. She lingered on Zuko, blue eyes turned up at the corners.
The Phoenix Queen arrived moments later, falling into place on the right side of the King. She laid her hand on her husband's sleeve as she pressed her cheek against his and held the gaze of her son, slow and cool.
The guests continued to filter in, taking their respective places. At the same time the courses began to flow. To begin, the servants brought out steamed fire flakes dressed and served with a cool dip made from cucumbers. A boy carrying milk served those with weaker mouths.
At the behest of his mother, a cup-bearer poured Zuko's cup full of wine. He drank deeply, noting that Yue did the same, blue eyes peering over the rim of her cup. Azula followed gracefully, her red lipstick leaving a wicked kiss on the glass. She smiled and played the game accordingly, ramming her foot into Zuko's shin when he drank too quickly.
"You're a prince," hissed his sister, her talons digging into him. "Don't embarrass Mother. And especially not Father."
Mother has already embarrassed herself, Zuko wanted to say, but he could not give the words sound.
A conversation rolled up, concerning a province in the Earth Kingdoms that Zuko had heard of, but whose name and significance escaped him. Everyone purposefully danced over the elephant-emu in the room. The problem with the Water Tribes. He caught several furtive glances in Yue’s direction, though her courtly charm betrayed nothing. He joined in when he could, letting the wine loosen his tongue until he was laughing freely at Lord So-and-so's jokes. Commander Zhao had joined them at the head table, adorned in his red sash, and Zuko wondered when he'd arrived.
They poured the wine to him, more and more, until the words fell heavy and unintelligible from his lips and his father's stare pierced him with disgust. His mother paid him mind. Azula kicked him once and then twice again. Even Yue had paused, hands folded primly in her lap.
"Zuko." That was Mother, her white face hovering, blurred, above the table. She was facing him. "You've begun to look ill, perhaps you should retire."
I am not ill, he wanted to announce , but my mother has no more honor than a woman of the red lights. My mother is a who-
Azula clutched his arm and rose abruptly. He swayed and another woman might have swayed with him, but not Azula. They marched together from the hall and his sister cursed him under her breath as she half led half dragged him down the corridor.
"You are an embarrassment." She chided him when they were alone in his room. She viciously tore off his shoes and belt, which contained a ceremonial dagger cut from bronze and quartz and set them aside. Zuko flopped onto his bed while his sister tucked everything away. "I should've been born first. The Crown Prince doesn't make a fool of himself, you idiot."
"Don't...call me that," he slurred and Azula made a deriding sound.
She went to the door and lingered just long enough for him to see her face in the full, her features rippled in that graceful abhorrence. Her golden eyes were ablaze. She left, closing the door behind her.
A moment later- or was it an hour?- the door opened once more. In strode the princess of the North and she floated to his bedside, laying a cool hand upon his forehead. Yue dragged a finger down his flushed cheek, eyes glittering with the ocean and the stars, lips red as blood, as wine, parted just so. She was so alarmingly pretty that Zuko felt a chill. In that moment she was the type of pretty that reminded him of the witches and sorceresses of the childhood fables, the enchantress that came and took souls without anyone being the wiser. "Don't worry," she whispered alluringly for his ears alone, "I won't forget."
Zuko's mind swam, crashing against his skull in violent waves, lapping at his thoughts and pulling him under. "My mother," he dragged the words out as his tongue grew too large and dry for his mouth.
Yue shushed him sweetly. "I know," she soothed and brushed his hair back into its topknot after Azula had roughly yanked off his crown. "I know. It's safe with me." She sang those words, the same way that Azula used to sing when she knew his secrets. Zuko wondered if he should feel afraid.
The Avatar was alive, he remembered suddenly. He wondered if she knew.
Yue sat upon the edge of his bed for a moment more, her own countenance placid, and then she slid away, a ghost in the night, white hair a specter in the dark. And when morning came- too soon, too brightly- Zuko's mouth was dry. His head throbbed and at some point he felt as though he were forgetting something, as though a precious secret hung at the back of his throat, nameless and nondescript, waiting anxiously to fall out.
Chapter 35: Locum Deorum (Or Where the Foul Things Are)
Chapter Text
Hahn
It was snowing and the lines to the latrines were especially long, which led Hahn to wonder just why everyone had decided to take a piss at once. He bundled his parka closer, imagining all the places he would rather be. Even back in the barracks, where at least it was warm.
Squid bounced towards him, adjusting his breeches. "Such an honorable man," he teased, "waiting in line like a good little denizen of society." He jerked his head, indicating a place over his shoulder. "I didn't see anything."
Hahn threw the pretty boy an exasperated glance. "You're just so happy all the time," Hahn snapped, "and it's too cold for joy." He wasn't sure how Squid could manage to be so cheerful everyday, considering the fact that their nation's princess was in the clutches of their enemy and the fact that war might be on the horizon. Especially when there were spirits whose sole desire was to wipe the entire earth clean of every human alive.
And yet here he was, on the edge of the world, freezing and needing to relieve himself. Stuck with criminals.
His friend, though Hahn was still reluctant to call him such, flashed his gap toothed grin. "I reckon I don't have a reason to be sad. Besides, we're signed up for a big expedition. Even bigger than the last. A full crew is going across the wall, waterbenders and everything."
Hahn had long since gotten his fill of the Far North, after he had been pulled into the Spirit World and then abruptly ripped out of it. When he returned, he could tell Hasook and Nilu about it and then they would all share war stories. "For how long? And to harvest more ice?"
Squid shrugged. "Must be a pretty long one, I saw the Chief overseeing a packing crew. They’ve been building a whole caravan with mounts and all. And I would guess so, I guess the Capitol needs more ice for their amulets."
They didn't need amulets. They needed strong warriors who would win back their princess. They needed Hahn.
Hahn eventually managed to get to one of the latrines and when he emerged, with one of the latrine-boys passing him a perfumed cloth to cleanse his nose of the smell, he saw that Squid was waiting for him, as eager as a dog. There were times when Hahn wondered who was the previous poor soul that had to tolerate the boy’s chatter.
"Have you eaten?" Asked Squid and wasted no time in marching towards the breakfast line before Hahn could answer, where they were served the standard soup with a half frozen biscuit. It was a sorry start to the morning, but Hahn had grown used to it. After breakfast, they were assigned their daily duties. Hahn had permanently been assigned to the armory, which he took a great pride in. Squid alternated between the armory and the stables, which he didn’t seem to mind. More than once Hahn had stumbled upon him snuggled up to a wooly reindeer. "Are you excited?"
"No," Hahn grumbled as he found an unoccupied bench and table. He sat, letting his biscuit fall into the soup. "Last time we got attacked by a spirit, remember?" He narrowed his eyes. "Right up your alley. I would prefer to stay in the armory. I have to keep my spear arm ready for war whenever I go back home.” His thoughts traveled to Piqatok the spirit girl, the messenger, who foretold that none of their efforts would stop the inevitable. Steering his mind elsewhere, Hahn took a swallow of his ration. Fish. And arctic vegetables. Hearty, though it left much to be desired with flavor. The cooks were stingy with their seasonings.
Squid swung his feet and Hahn rolled his eyes. The boy, pretty as he was, had the nature of a child. He could often be caught singing to himself or sitting outside under the light of the moon. A real lunatic. He jolted. "I almost forgot!" Reaching into the folds of his coat, Squid pulled out a piece of jewelry. It was a necklace carved into a Koi, clear with hints of indigo and violet. It was held to a thin twine. "I got this for you. You probably forgot about it! I’ve been keeping it under my bed. "
Hahn eyed the necklace and his ire rose. "Squid..." he began, "that's the amulet you stole, you dumb brat. With the ice that we're harvesting. You know, what we aren't supposed to have?! That the Chief Commander will cut off your hand if he finds out you stole it! You’re already sentenced to life up here.”
His friend deflated. "I know...but still, take it." He rose and slipped the necklace over Hahn's neck.
"Aye! Squid's finally got Three wrapped around his finger! That your betrothal necklace, Giggles?" Chewy and several other burly men hooted from where they sat nearby, eyes alight with amusement. "How are you gonna explain this back home?"
"Kick rocks, Chewy." Squid fired back and they engaged in a savage, though lighthearted, banter. The pretty boy bared his teeth in a grin. "You're just mad no one's ever gave a lick about you."
"Aye," Chewy retorted, "your mother did."
At that, Squid's demeanor changed. A dark look came across his face, his vibrant blue green eyes sinking into some painful place that only he could see. Hahn laid a warning hand on his friend's shoulder, giving a tough squeeze in a feeble attempt to bring him back to reality. Squid boiled underneath his fingertips. His fists clenched and released and Hahn was reminded of the first day he met him, when the soft-faced criminal punched another man for no reason. This was the violent side of the boy, the side who had killed his abuser and would have no qualms about murdering another. Hahn had only seen his temper flare a few times, but it had always been there lurking just under the surface.
Chewy leaned back, as if realizing that he had pushed the boy in the wrong direction.
The table held its breath.
Squid tossed back his head and howled in laughter, a sound that came from his belly, rich and sincere. He launched himself at the table where the other men sat, snatching Chewy's collar and dragging him closer. Chewy had gone white with fear. "Brilliant!" He kissed the man smack on the mouth. “That was a good one.”
He's crazy, Hahn thought. Absolutely, irrevocably crazy. Nuts. Whacko.
Chewy wiped the younger criminal's kiss off of his mouth and spat with a grimace of both disgust and bewilderment. Squid flashed his grin, the gap between his teeth showing and the other men shrank away. "We've got to get our personal supplies ready, Three." The small father-killer said. He downed the rest of his breakfast, clapping Hahn on the back. "Let's go."
Hahn followed. (Not because Squid told him to, surely not.) They returned to the barracks where other men were scrambling to get ready. A massive expedition required those left behind to pull extra work and Hahn wasn't sure which he preferred. Feeding the beasts and tying knots seemed better than whatever foul-things awaited them in the Land of the Ice that Never Melts. Hahn went to his bed and assembled his pack, fitting together his extra coat and boots, and stuffing his bag with breeches and work gloves. They were also provided with thick hats and scarves to keep the snow from obstructing their eyes. He rolled a wool-lined sleeping bag and tied it to his other possessions. His fingers skimmed over a half finished letter that he had begun to draft to his parents, though he had never gotten around to finishing it. He paused and then crumpled the parchment, shoving it underneath his mattress.
As he finished his assembly, Hahn scanned the room for the shorter boy. Squid knelt by the bed on the farthest end of the room, languidly and methodically tucking his possessions into his pack. It was the slowest Hahn had ever seen him move. Hahn crossed over to him as Squid slipped a carved dagger into the bag, his fingers caressing the bone handle. "I used this to slit his throat," he whispered, eyes half closed and lips barely moving. "Went up behind him, just after..." he rocked slightly, feverishly and Hahn knew that he was very far away. "And I said 'Father...' and that's as far as I got before the anger overcame me." He looked up at Hahn and flashed his teeth in a pitiful, painful, imitation of a smile. "Slit his throat and it was better than everything. Better than a restful sleep. Better than a hot meal. Spirits...the best feeling."
Hahn wasn't sure if he should feel horrified. He averted his gaze as Squid tucked the blade away, clearing his throat.
"Right," Hahn said at last. "Well, we'd better meet up with the others."
Squid nodded and allowed Hahn to take the lead. The warrior scanned the area for the rest of the group, finding the last of the men preparing the beasts of burden for the expedition. The Chief Commander stood tall amongst them, bulked out by the extra layers of clothing. He eyed Hahn and Squid as they approached, which Hahn figured was about as much of a greeting as they were going to get.
Yet again Hahn thought of his circumstances. He could be more useful back in the city where he could fight to get back their stolen princess. It was still hard to believe that their sister nation had been destroyed, to think that the world was falling apart and here he was, so painfully detached from it all. To imagine that some men spent their whole lives on the Ice Wall, so close to their old homes but unable to interact with the changing world. To imagine that young boys like Squid would grow old and gray here.
A pang of pity went through Hahn but he shoved it away. Squid killed his father- justifiably so, but he was a murderer all the same. That couldn't be forgotten.
Half of the men they would be accompanying were older, ice-scarred and leathery even though they couldn't have counted much more than forty-five years. They were men who had been on the ice since they were teenagers for offenses that Hahn could not even begin to fathom. Most father-killers were hanged. Patricide was a crime against the very order of society. Those that committed grave offenses against women were often flogged or handed to the fathers of those that they harmed or sent to the Far North. Hahn had never interacted with many of the older men simply because he spent the majority of his time with Squid.
The chief's nephew, the Chief Commander, cleared his throat. Hahn wondered how he felt, knowing that the royal family he left behind was in turmoil. "We ride out now," he announced, "further than most of you have gone. It is possible that you may not return- the temperatures are often beyond human endurance. The foul-things there are especially vicious." He held Hahn's gaze levelly. "But remember that this is your service to your country, to your nation. You may not fight against foreign soldiers with clubs and spears, but protecting them from foul-things is an honor all the same."
"An honor for undesirables like us," Squid muttered.
"I'm desirable." Hahn retorted.
They departed like that, on foot, with the Chief Commander at the front of the line. The elder men were somber and silent, as if they had simply endured too much to have the same vivaciousness as the others. Hahn wondered what stories they had to tell, if they had ever encountered foul-things in all their years on the ice.
Piqatok sprung to mind, ghastly and fearsome, and Hahn struggled to banish her. He had not found it to be of much concern but yet the idea of seeing something worse than her did not sit right with him. They were going deep into the heart of the land of foul-things.
Hahn wondered how a spirit could be killed. Did foul-things have hearts?
It was some hours later that Hahn removed himself from his stupor, surprised that no one had decided to bother him on their march. Not even Squid, uncharacteristically quiet, his bottom lip puckered out. Every so often he shivered.
A frigid night passed, and then another.
There was nothing new to see since they had last crossed the Ice Wall. There was still snow and ice, though not the kind that the chief deemed collectible by whatever inexplicable standards. A pack of wolves loped in the distance from them, their alpha halting at the crest of a hill to look down at the men in what Hahn could only imagine was animalistic distaste . How pitiful he imagined the wolf saying to his pack, they have no fur .
Mankind seldom ventured this far. Not even barbarians. The snow was untouched and a blinding white. The trees hung under the burden of winter. The Far North was a solemn ,lonely type of quiet. The only sound was the crack of packed snow under boots and the sound of the wagons and animals. Even Tonraq’s ornery black polar dog, aptly named Black Fang, was apprehensive. He normally terrorized the other dogs, save for Imiqi. She was a white and red dog that Squid had claimed for his own in the stables and kennels. Hahn suspected that Squid had scared Black Fang off some way or another, or trained the female dog to defend herself. Imiqi herself lingered not far from Squid and Hahn, her tail curled over her back. It was as if they knew that this was a different excursion. Dogs could sense things that humans couldn’t, Hahn remembered.
Abruptly Squid rammed his elbow into Hahn's side, pulling the taller boy's neck down so that Hahn's ear was against his lips. "Do you have a rag?" He whispered urgently, "any kind of rag?" His eyes are wide and Hahn noticed that he clinched his thighs together, balancing precariously on his toes.
"You pissed yourself." Hahn guffawed. "You really pissed yourself already and we haven't even settled down for camp yet, Squid. What are you, a woman? Can't control yourself?"
"Shut your mouth, Three, and give me a rag." Squid retorted and breathed out in relief as Hahn paused to rummage through his sack. There wasn't much to spare, being that they had been instructed to pack as efficiently as possible, but he found a mitten with several of the fingers missing. He passed it to his companion, who snatched it away and took off in the direction of ice-encrusted bushes.
Hahn chuckled to himself and lingered in wait while the others trotted steadily ahead. Imiqi sat at his heels and Hahn leaned down to scratch her ears. He didn’t experience the type of glee that some people felt around animals. He did not mind them, but he would never have a pet. Imiqi, sweet though she might be, had not been able to convince him. After a short eternity, Squid returned back to where Hahn and the dog waited, his upbeat smile once more plastered on his face. Hahn chose to ask no questions and instead jerked his head. "We're falling behind because of you," he grumbled. "If Piqatok comes after us again it's gonna be on your head."
Squid offered a nonchalant shrug.
Ancient ice-encrusted trees stretched above their heads, violet and indigo tears of ice dangling from the weeping branches. The hard snow underfoot cracked and groaned under the weight of many men and many beasts, and somewhere in the distance Hahn registered the whine of a frigid river. The quiet was unnerving after having spent all his years surrounded by the bustle and racket of an ice carved city. The true North went on without them. It required no upkeep, abided by no written laws.
Hahn faintly felt the sensation of being watched, of primordial intelligent gazes tracking their movements. A voice that was not his own but which resided in his blood and bones whispered to him that these were foul things. It was the voice of tribesmen of the North, who carried their knowledge and their stories through the generations so that they would vibrate in the minds of their descendants. It was the voice of the ancestors who had traversed the North, who had seen much and remembered more. When they rejoined the others, Hahn knew that they heard it as well.
The line had drawn to a halt. The Chief Commander had dug his heels into the ground, his hand on the bone dagger at his belt. His eyes scanned the tree canopy and then lowered to hold his followers in his gaze. The older men crowded near him, reaching for their clubs. Several of the waterbenders drew water from their canteens while the animals snorted, suddenly uneasy and agitated. The dogs paced about, hackles raised, tails between their legs.
"I don't feel good about this," Squid whispered. "Why are we stopping?"
It was then that Hahn heard the rattling. It came from underneath their feet, vibrating beneath the snow. The howling followed, a hunting howl, the sound of bloodthirst and adrenaline. It was beyond human and wolf, something supernatural and immortal that left Hahn’s bones quaking.
"They've come." Tonraq announced as he drew his dagger from its sheath. "They've come."
They burst from a rift in the underground, the pack of foul-things, in a tumultuous blur of black pitch and blinding electric blue. They came in the form of bull-shouldered canines with stripes running from brow to tail which curled into a scorpion's point. Their gaping maws contained three rows of savage teeth lined up behind each other. Hahn felt his bladder empty itself though fear had long since taken control of his thought processes. The horde of foul beasts encircled them, snarling and gnashing their teeth.
"Separate!" The chief's nephew bellowed.
Hahn took off without another word, scrambling over his own feet. He could hear chaos erupting behind him, the shouts of his comrades and the panicked bleating of the oxen and reindeer. Imiqi and Black Fang and the others yelped in terror. The koi shaped amulet slapped against his chest as he ran. The foul-things bayed and howled, tearing off after him.
"Three!" Squid hollered. "Three!" Hahn looked back to see that he scrambled after him, several of the oozing hounds snapped at his heels. His eyes were stretched with panic. One of the foul-things seized the hem of his breeches, shredding the fabric with ease. Squid stumbled over an upraised tree root and went down, rolling headlong down a hill. "Help me!"
Self-preservation tore Hahn in two. He slowed to a halt, realizing that he had already put distance between himself and the majority of the horde. Three of the foul-things had decided to pursue him, lingering at a distance, their violet eyes aglow. It occurred to Hahn that their irises were the same color as the ice they harvested. It struck him secondly that he wore this sacred ice around his neck. He prayed to any god listening that what they said about the ice was true.
It had to be true.
Please.
The foul-things inched closer, massive feet leaving no tracks in the snow. Their ancient eyes met Hahn's, measuring him up, taking note of the amulet on his neck. One of them huffed and snorted, drawing back its upper lip. With trembling hands, Hahn lifted the necklace and held it to the sunlight. Its light refracted, throwing beams of indigo and blue over the snow. Hahn shivered under the weight of the foul-thing’s stare as it turned tail and loped off in the opposite direction, its mates soon to follow.
For an infinite moment, it may have been an hour it may have been only a heartbeat, Hahn found himself unable to move. He breathed and the air stirred around him. Every hair on his body was on end, trembling from the force that he had just witnessed.
After it passed, Hahn took a step forward. He stumbled initially but his second stride was more confident. He retraced his steps, finding that the Land of the Ice that Never Melts was once more plunged into solemn tranquility, as if no foul-things had just burst forth to ravage them. In a moment of clarity, his mind to Squid where he had last witnessed him falling down the hill with beasts on his ankles.
He sprinted forward to the site, slowing as he skidded down the slope of the hill. The land broke off into a jagged point before softening into a snow filled ditch. It was there where he found his friend, mangled and whimpering, his left leg bent at a grotesque angle. Imiqi had rejoined him, pawing at Squid and whining in a high pitch, her tongue lapping at his face again and again. Hahn gasped and leapt the last few feet, hurrying to the pretty boy's side.
"Squid!"
The younger boy opened his eyes with a whimper. Some of his long hair had fallen loose from his wolf tail, framing his face. Hahn was not certain if there were beads of sweat on his nose or tears. He did not ask. Squid had begun to bruise over from his fall, wincing at each sharp intake of breath. His polar dog moved around Hahn’s legs, urging him forward. "Three..." Squid gasped out, "I was so scared."
Hahn knelt at his side, resting an uneasy hand on Squid's shoulder. The boy was shaking. "I was too," he admitted. "We gotta find the others. Your leg's busted. What else is wrong with you?" He watched as Squid attempted to rise, crying out when he found it almost impossible.
"I fell on the way down, over there. Stomach first on a rock. It felt like it cut straight through my ribs. I kept rolling and my leg got yanked in the other direction." He moaned. "It feels like I'm dying, Three. If it weren’t for Imiqi coming back, you wouldn’t have been able to find me.”
"Don't be so dramatic, you sound like a wimp." Hahn snapped. "Now lay back, I have to see if you're hurt anywhere else before I try to move you. And don't make it weird!" Hahn began to strip Squid of his parka, revealing the bulky clothing underneath. He bundled and used the coat as a pillow, setting it underneath the pretty boy's head. Squid whined at each disturbance and Hahn murmured an insincere apology. Tentatively, never allowing his eyes to stray from his friend's, he lifted his shirt to examine just how far the damage extended.
The bruising was already an atrocious blue and green and purple, sickening against Squid's brown skin. In some places he could see the blood still pooling. All at once the boy began to struggle, squirming away from Hahn. He flailed his arms, forcing a distance between the two. He cried out in pain, the hem of his shirt fluttering up higher. Hahn's eyes widened at the sight of white cloth wound tightly over Squid's chest.
He did not understand.
"Squid... what's going on?" He asked and wondered if he should look away. What kind of indecency was he witnessing? Squid relaxed at last, letting out a strained exhale.
"Three," Squid began slowly, "Three. Hahn, look at me."
Hahn obeyed and looked at him, at Squid, at her, at Tikaani. At whoever this person was lying before him, injured and broken. Squid reached up, palms against his cheeks, lips casually exchanging breath. He -she- was crying, eyes glistening. Hahn averted his gaze. "You're a liar," he managed to say. "You're a filthy liar."
"And a father killer. And a girl. And your friend ," Tikaani whispered. She held Hahn's face in her hands, trembling. "Please don't tell."
"Why?"
She let out one sob before catching herself. "My father . He would beat my mother black and blue, and she would stand back and take it. She would watch as he beat me, too and what kind of mother just watches ? She didn't defend me, Three. I was little and he...he...What kind of father does that to their child? I was just a little girl-”
"No kind," Hahn whispered, perhaps out of reassurance for Squid and himself. He found himself paralyzed, his face still trapped between Squid’s hands. A drop of sweat found its way from his eye. Sweat. Most definitely sweat.
"I couldn't stand being a girl, Hahn. I couldn't. I felt..." again she breathed, ragged and wet with tears. Hahn felt as though he was talking to a familiar stranger, to someone he thought he had once known but ultimately he had not. "Dirty. Helpless. Worthless. So I became a boy and at last I killed him. It took months, years to convince everyone I was a boy. My mother helped. She told everyone she had a scrawny little boy with long hair. She lied to everyone until they believed it, or at least knew better than to say otherwise. I killed him. After all those years of him hating me, Three. It felt so good. I was ready to die when they caught me, but my mother vouched for me. It was the only time she defended me against a man, after all the times I bit and scratched for her." The unspoken meaning behind her confession left Hahn feeling sick.
Hahn leaned back. “How did you-how did Tonraq and the others not find out?”
Tikaani smiled coyly. The same smile that Hahn had always seen, but now it felt wrong. Unfamiliar. “If you act enough like a nutcase, people will stay away from you. They just thought I was a skinny, abnormally strong, jovial psychopath.” She coughed. “Which I am, just lacking a vital body part.”
Hahn stared incredulously. Tikaani sobbed in earnest now, her hands falling away from his face. "Don't tell, Hahn. They'll kill me for sure this time. Promise me."
"I have to find the Chief Commander," Hahn declared and sprang to his feet. "Stay there." He lingered for a second, adjusting the girl's shirt so that the damning evidence would not show. "Stay there." Imiqi curled up beside Squid in the absence of his heat, pressing her fluffy bulk against Squid’s side.
He clambered over the ridge, his hands freezing through his mittens. Snow had begun to fall, landing on his lashes. Hahn let out a shout that echoed back to him. The sky through the trees had begun to bleed different colors. He called out again. "Anybody! Hey!"
"Aye!" Came a response. From a mound of snow came a waterbender and two other men, their eyes bulging. The waterbender bent the ice from their path, waving his arms. Hahn realized that one of the men was the Chief Commander, relatively unscathed in comparison to Squid-Tikaani. There were scratches on his cheeks from running through the branches, but his gray blue eyes were still bright and piercing. "You're among the last unaccounted for. Where is Squid?"
Hahn paused. "Injured. I can't carry him on my own, his leg is busted and he's banged up pretty bad." He. That felt odd, knowing that it was not true.
The Chief Commander cursed. "We cannot handle injuries, not when we've planned the expedition so thoroughly." He jerked his head at the waterbender and waved his hand at Hahn. "Lead us."
Unable to disobey and weighted down with unwanted knowledge, Hahn retraced his steps to the ravine. He paused, his heart forcing itself up through his throat. How dare she, Hahn thought, and how could she keep a secret for more than three years? How could she pose a male amongst men, had no one seen her without a shirt? Did she not have the problem that plagued women with the moon?
Oh.
Hahn cursed his stupidity, recalling the incident in the morning two days before. It was a subtlety that only came with practice, a woman's discretion trapped inside the identity of a violently lighthearted boy.
Squid-Tikaani laid where he had left her, curled up to the best of her ability around her polar dog. She was shivering, rubbing her palms together to generate heat. As they coasted down the slope, she raised her head and let it fall back down upon sight of the Chief Commander. Hahn could imagine the swears going through her head. Imiqi growled in response. The dog knew, Hahn realized. Dogs could smell a woman’s changes.
“Imiqi, come.” Juatan, the dog handler of the caravan, called out and roped a leash around the dog’s neck. She strained against him, upper lip curled and snapping ferociously until Juatan managed to yank her towards him, his grip so tight on the leash that Imiqi would choke if she tried to lunge.
"It seems they had a taste for you," murmured the Chief Commander as he knelt and laid a heavy hand on Tikaani's leg. His grip tightened as she cried out. "Tanrik will heal you," he explained, "he's the only waterbender north of the Ice Wall who is capable of healing. Do not fight him."
Tanrik moved forward, water gliding over his ungloved hands. Hahn watched, rapt, as he began to work at Tikaani's ruined leg while the other men held it in position. Tikaani roared and screamed at the manhandling, chest rising and falling in great heaves. Tanrik was unbothered. The water glowed as he healed the broken bone, sealing it back together in a way that Hahn had never been able to understand.
Tikaani's eyes met Hahn's as Tanrik began to move her clothes out of the way. "No!" She exclaimed, "that doesn't hurt so bad. You don't have to heal me, I can get up."
The snow began to fall harder.
"You will not slow us down." The chief's nephew growled and lifted the warrior girl's arms. She lashed out, catching Tanrik in the jaw. Aggravated, the Chief Commander wrestled her down, locked her wrists together while the second man (whose name Hahn did not know) clasped her ankles. She bucked against them, howling savagely. Hahn could see Tonraq struggling to maintain his frigid composure.
"Don't let them kill me, Three." Tikaani wailed. " Please ! Hahn, please!”
Tanrik lifted Tikaani's shirt and Hahn's ears rang. She began to scream uncontrollably as her secret came to light at last, met by stunned silence. The men fell away from her at once, as though she had burned them with her feminine skin.
The Chief Commander broke himself from his stupor and stood, wiping his hands off. "Well. This is...unexpected." His glare sharpened as Tikaani sat up. "I would dare say unprecedented as well. You've broken the code of the Northern Water Tribe and the law of the Ice Wall. You've violated the tradition of our ancestors. I cannot let this offense go unpunished." He turned to the men. "By the law of the Tribe, you would be sentenced to death. We are a clan of our own in a sense and may enforce the law in whatever way we choose. Pray these men are merciful."
Tikaani shivered and gritted her teeth.
"She lied to all of us," Tanrik spat. "For years. Presented herself as a man. Ate with us and heard us tell our stories with her woman ears. She is less than dirt." The second man with the broad build agreed. "I say you make an example of her."
Tonraq leaned down until his mouth was close to Tikaani’s ear. He whispered something to her and then she lifted her head to respond just as quietly, her lip quivering. Tonraq’s countenance became ever more grim.
Juatan was silent for an eternity, his eyes hard. They were all staring at her exposed bindings. “It must be done.” He said at last.
"Hahn," the Chief Commander urged, "what say you?"
His friend turned her large eyes onto him, her mouth agape as her fate hung in the balance. She said nothing to implore him, however her life of pain hovered in the space between them. She had done everything to escape, to rebel against a father that brought nothing but grief to her. How could one not admire that? Even though she had lied to him, betrayed him. Betrayed him.
Hahn averted his gaze.
Their leader nodded in resolution, jaw pulsing. "So be it. Tikaani, child and murderer of Upatik of the Clan of Yuna, rise and face your punishment."
Tikaani dragged herself into a kneeling position, placing her arms behind her back. Her sigh of resignation was audible as the chief's nephew drew his bone dagger from his belt. He situated himself behind her, taking hold of her warrior's wolf tail to lengthen the exposure of her throat. His hands were surprisingly gentle and Hahn saw that they were trembling.
Hahn watched, bile rising in his throat, as the Chief Commander raised the dagger. Tikaani knelt, chin lifted, eyes closed. A tear leaked from her eye as her weight pressed on her newly healed leg. There was no speech, no fanfare or reprimand. There were few witnesses. The cut was quick and cold, freezing over almost instantly. The commander cradled the girl the father-killer as she died, letting her settle gently into the snow. He was almost tender, the way a man would gingerly hold his daughter when she has brought him shame. With a sweep of his fingers he brushed her hair back.
"We must go on," the Chief Commander announced.
In that moment Hahn faded away. His imagination drifted to a world where it was already night and the moon hung luminous. The aurora danced green and red and yellow above his head. He held Tikaani, calm and peaceful and feminine and dead in his embrace. In this place Hahn heard the hum of spirits, the song of a world that was not his own, and then they rained down from the heavens. He was not sure if he was still firmly planted in reality.
The rest of the men had begun to walk away from the girl’s icebound tomb in a heavy silence. They were getting smaller and smaller, or perhaps his vision was becoming more and more narrow. The spirits encircled him. They came down around him, tearing at his clothes and his flesh, ripping Squid's cold corpse away from him.
"We must go on." Tonraq’s voice rang out.
Hahn rose, exhaled, and followed his leader.
Chapter 36: Unconventional Introductions
Chapter Text
Sokka
"Help!" Touqa cried, "I've been blinded!"
Sokka dragged himself to consciousness, finding his limbs weighted down and mouth stuffed with wool. He opened his eyes and then opened them further, finding that he had been engulfed in darkness. He was lying on his back and the ground underneath him was rough and damp.
"You're not blind, you seal-brained twit." Kunip snapped from somewhere in the darkness and Sokka stared up at what he could only assume was the roof. "We're captured."
Sokka worked his jaw until words came forth. "Captured?" He croaked and then he remembered the skirmish with the earthbenders under the portico in the streets of Omashu. "Where's Suki? And the dogs? Suki?"
"She's not in here, where ever here is." Kunip said and Sokka heard metal scraping against the floor. "It's just us. I don't know where the others are."
Sokka struggled to sit up, finding that his wrists had been fitted with metal cuffs. His hands were chained together and he found that his feet were as well. His stomach dropped to his knees. "This is bad. It could be worse, but this is bad . We have to figure out where we are. And how to get back to the others."
"There's no way out of here, chief," Kunip responded, voice slow. "I crawled around this whole cell in the dark while you and Touqa were out and there's no door. At least not one that I could feel. The whole thing is sealed shut.” His chains rattled in the darkness.
There was a vast roar above their heads. Dust and tiny pieces of gravel rained down on their heads. Bones vibrating, Sokka pressed himself against the ground and squeezed his eyes shut. He was too young and handsome to die here, in this dark unknown place. They had made it this far, too far for them to die in a doorless prison. The cuffs dug into his skin.
Sokka took the opportunity to categorize and analyze his memories. The last thing he vividly recalled was laying supine with Suki above him and the earthbenders attacking them. That much was real. He had a vague recollection of waking up while being carried, the walls pulsing on either side. He wasn't sure if that was real. Right now it didn't matter.
"Aye, Sokka. Kunip," Touqa began, his voice quavering, "I'm scared. And I want to go home." For as long as Sokka had known him (which was basically the entirety of their lives) Touqa had never admitted to being worried or afraid.
"We can't," Kunip said softly. "Not until we avenge our nation. Not until we get out of here."
And almost on cue, there was a grating, sliding noise and a beam of light fell down upon them. The walls shook and groaned. Sokka squinted as the light shone in the cell, revealing the fearful faces of his warriors and friends. They were in chains, like him. Kunip had managed to slide his restraints just high enough that he could scoot and crawl. The light came from a crack in the wall above them and when he looked up, Sokka saw two figures standing on the threshold.
A woman was the first, dressed in an ivory tunic and olive leggings. She hopped down into the cell, carrying a pack made of leather. She was dark skinned and her hair hung in coarse waves around her shoulders. A man with weathered skin took her place at the doorway and Sokka saw that he brandished a hooked sword, glowering down at them.
The woman set her pack down and brought out a cloth that stank of alcohol and several tiny vials. "I am Liu-Sheng," she said without preamble, "and I am to be your trainer."
"Our what?" Sokka asked.
The woman knelt, dipping her cloth in a substance that she withdrew from a vial. She went first to Kunip, hauling him upright with one hand that betrayed her strength. Sokka watched as she produced a key from her belt, deftly unlocking the cuffs on the older warrior's wrists. She pressed the soaked cloth on the chafed reddened skin. "Your trainer," she repeated over Kunip's loud curses. "I am responsible for making sure you aren't injured in your matches. Our king does not like the idea of spilling blood."
"You're saying things..." Sokka said, "and I don't know what they mean. Let's start over. Hi, my name is Sokka."
The woman chose to humor him. "And I am Liu-Sheng. I am going to ensure that you don't die in the matches. King Bumi finds blood to be most unappealing." She continued to administer the cloth to Kunip's skin, gentler this time. "I take it you've never heard of a Rumble."
"Lady, we're from the south pole," Touqa drawled. "That one right there, he's the chief of the Southern Water Tribe and I'm not big on diplomacy but I'm sure that you're not supposed to kidnap and imprison a foreign leader! Then again, you lot wouldn’t be the first to recently commit a political faux pas. We're here to speak to the King of Omashu."
Liu-Sheng nodded calmly, allowing Touqa's rage to float over her unperturbed. "And you will have your audience if you do well in the Rumble. Our king only grants audience to those worthy of it, and who can undergo the tasks he puts before them." When Kunip tried to rip away from her, she seized him by the forearm, forcing him down onto his back. Liu-Sheng placed a knee on either side of his ribs and pulled his arm into her lap. Kunip was by no means a small man. He had always been tall and broad-shouldered, the physique that was every lady’s dream and one that Sokka had hoped one day he would acquire. Even still, Liu-Sheng handled him with ease, applying ointment to his cleaned wounds.
Sokka watched, in awe of the woman's casual strength and tried to make sense of what she had told them. "What's this Rumble that you speak of?"
"Every year, our king hosts a series of games in favor of titles and land. Here in our city is an arena in which men fight," Liu-Sheng answered and moved on to Touqa. She seemed unafraid of them, despite the fact that they outnumbered her. "If you win, he will grant you what you wish."
"Oh," Sokka responded, "how creative. I was expecting a public execution. Where are the others? The warriors? The girl and the dogs?"
Liu-Sheng raised her head as the ceiling shook. "Above in the arena, sounds like. Well, not the dogs. The dogs are in a kennel.”
Touqa lunged and Liu-Sheng was suddenly on top of him, firm hands pressed against his throat. He bucked and squirmed, lashing out with a right hook. Liu-Sheng grappled for his hand and twisted his wrist until Touqa screamed in pain. The man who had accompanied her leapt down into the cell, drawing Kunip up and slamming him into the wall. Sokka struggled against his constraints. "Real smart move, Touqa!"
The dark skinned woman looked over at Sokka. Her eyes, impassive, flickered across him. "If you can manage to constrain your men, I am sure that you can be permitted to witness the matches of your friends."
The taciturn man who accompanied Liu-Sheng let Kunip drop roughly to the floor, reclaiming his place above them at the entrance of the cell. Sokka shot a wary glance at his friend and then nodded to Liu-Sheng. "Take us." He looked then at Touqa, silently ordering his companion to maintain his temper. They were in a strange land. Sokka stood motionless as Liu-Sheng removed his bonds, letting his hands drop heavily. "...is there a chance of...how should I say this? What is the likelihood of you know... us dying at the hands of a death squad?"
"Our king does not have death squads." Liu-Sheng replied, her cool voice tinged with what could pass as amusement. "He is an honorable non-violent man. Albeit…eclectic.” She squared her feet, clenching her arms and pulling down. A set of steps appeared and Liu-Sheng beckoned for him to come. An earthbender. No wonder she had the strength of a grown man.
Not one to push his luck, Sokka obeyed. Touqa and Kunip followed his lead, apprehensive. Liu-Sheng and her silent assistant herded them down a dark green hallway. Slivers of dust fell upon their heads and the ceiling shook with the force of a thousand people. Sokka could hear roars of excitement.
They climbed an incline and emerged into the beige and olive world of Omashu, into an arena that held what had to be two thousand people, all of them staring down at the sand in the center. From their tiny entrance into the arena, Sokka saw a group of people dressed in blue, facing a savage white and brown beast. It was as tall as two men stacked upon each other and as broad as four standing shoulder to shoulder, baring ferocious fangs that Sokka did not want to experience. Its arms were cords of muscle that ended in four hooked talons. From its slavering maw were two fangs on either side of its jaw. Its long ears waves like banners.
And there was Suki, her warrior's clothing tattered, face flushed and chest heaving. She clutched her iron war fans desperately, features haggard and reddened. Sokka's men were flanking her, eyes glowing with fear.
"Oh, I would have preferred the death squad." Sokka groaned and then gasped as amethyst clusters suddenly shot up from the sand in between his men and Suki, forcing them apart. The beast reared onto its hind legs and once more slammed down onto the ground, causing more shards to fly at the Tribesmen. The Water Tribe prince whirled on Liu-Sheng. "That thing can earthbend , too?! What kind of show is this?!"
Liu-Shing appeared nonplussed. "The only way you will have an audience with the King of Omashu. That is his pet, Flopsy." She scanned the arena as Sokka's men scattered to evade the violet shrapnel. "He is normally quite calm and adorable. Today is not such a day."
Suki whirled and dodged a large chunk of stone, landing on top of it as it crashed back to the ground. Sokka could see that she was terrified, that all of them were. His men had only ever faced down seals, never earthbending rabbit-monsters. His mind soared back to his home, the ice and song of his ancestors, to his father and the ghost of his warrior mother lingering in the halls. Perhaps this was all a fool's errand. Maybe he should give up and go home, pick up the pieces and bow to the Phoenix King. Marry a warrior girl and produce ten complacent chieftains.
No.
The Phoenix King can kiss the dark side of the moon. And my backside . Sokka shook the tension from his shoulders, surveying the arena. Just above his head the ceiling jutted out into the stadium, hovering over the sand of the show area. Perfect. Gathering his strength, Sokka sprang and grappled for a hold on the ledge. He slipped and swung his legs when Liu-Sheng grabbed for him, his heel colliding with her nose. "Sorry!" He exclaimed and hauled himself up onto the ledge, kneeling into a crouch to keep his balance. Sokka narrowed his eyes, calculating the distance from his position to the center of the arena.
Today is not such a day for defeat.
The magnificent Flopsy whirled, his bulging arm slamming into Mika when the waterbender tried to leap into his back. Sokka winced at the sickening sight of his friend meeting the wall of the stadium, falling into a limp pile. The arena screamed. In that moment of distraction, Suki hurled her fan at the monstrous animal. The weapon collided with its head, spurting out specks of vibrant red blood.
With an earthshaking roar, Flopsy the beast leapt at her once more, its savage arms outstretched. Sokka chose that moment to lunge from his perch, throwing himself onto the great mass of white fur. He took a handful of its hackles and snatched up a good hold on Flopsy's ear, clutching desperately as the animal reared onto its hind legs. "Sit down, you overfed freakshow!" He snarled and wailed when Flopsy attempted to throw him. "I've never been in a rodeo!"
Flopsy reared once more, bucking and kicking. The ground rattled. Sokka clenched his teeth
"Sokka!" Suki cried, "Hold on to him!" She drew herself to her feet, joined by Yanik and Pauqa, the last two of Sokka's men standing. The Kyoshi Warrior scooped up a chunk of amethyst, swinging back her arm and launching it at the beast.
Shards of the gemstone came into contact with Sokka's forehead. "Watch it!" He complained and drew back hard on the animal's ears. Using the appendages as reins, Sokka forced the Flopsy to whirl around. He found that earthbenders had manifested in the stands of the coliseum, contorted into paused bending forms. The rest of the crowd had evacuated in the heat of the turning tide. Those who lingered held their breaths. Sokka turned his eyes to the highest seat in the viewing section.
And there, at last, the King of Omashu stood.
He was a man bent over and crooked from gravity and age. A royal robe, the color of the amethyst stones, settled over his hunched shoulders. From his vantage point Sokka could see priceless bangles on his wrists and meaty neck. Their eyes met, vengeful winter blue and timeless green. This was a man long since accustomed to being a ruler while Sokka, balancing precariously on the still-raging beast, was just beginning to find his footing. The King of Omashu raised his hand and the earthbenders lowered theirs.
Flopsy dropped back onto all fours with a thud with a keening whine not unlike those of Sokka’s dogs when they were happy to see him. Sokka ground his teeth and dared leap back on to the ground, rolling in the dust by Yanik’s feet. His warrior assisted him. Suki was not far away, her eyes never straying from the king watching them. "I hope you were entertained!" Sokka barked, waving his arms. "I hope this is one of the best shows you've ever seen! Because you... you , King Cactus Head, can take this little show and shove it up your-"
"Sokka!" That was Kunip, the voice of reason, as he sprinted towards them followed closely by Touqa and the Omashian guards. "Sokka!" In unison those of the Water Tribe turned to face the Earth King. "I suggest we tread wisely."
The King suddenly let out a whoop, propelling himself into the air using the manipulated earth as a trampoline. Sokka gasped at his presumptuous agility, even more impressed when the hunched man landed squarely before them. The beast Flopsy erupted into gleeful whines, rushing over to its master. It was then that Sokka appraised the supposed mad king, who upon closer inspection proved to be much more ancient than Sokka had first guessed. His hair was pure white and he lacked several teeth when he cracked his parched lips into a grin. And then, to Sokka's bewilderment, he laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
When at last he regained his composure, the man extended his long arms. " What a show! " He cackled, "the best I've seen in nigh fifty years. Leave it to tribesmen to use some tact and strategy." He leaned forward and Sokka thought to offer his hand. Did chieftains bow to kings? His father had never taught him the proper way. Now that he had donned the cloak of the Polar Bear Dog, Sokka realized that there were many things his father had not taught him. "A bit impromptu but worthy all the same." He grasped Sokka's hand in his iron grip, jerking the Chief towards him.
Sokka pulled back with a restrained grimace. That would bruise later. "Worthy of an audience, I hope." The others were eyeing Flopsy and Sokka did not blame them. It did not go unnoticed that Yanik and Pauqa had lacerations on their arms and legs. He rubbed the bruises beginning to form on his body, knowing that the dully ache would only intensify.
Liu-Sheng bowed before her sovereign, who ignored her. "Your highness," began she, "this is
Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe and his entourage-"
"I might be one hundred and eleven years old, Liu-Sheng, but I'm not dead." Snapped the old king and Sokka could not contain his incredulous gasp. "I've heard about this boy's father and grandfather and great grandfather and probably others, too." Without warning, he slammed his heel into the earth and the earth twisted , plunging them all down.
Sokka tried to keep his head from reeling upon the realization that the king of Omashu had bent them into a relatively austere (for royalty) yet vast, audience chamber. It had emerald green walls and deep yellow trim. The floors were squares of quartz and moonstone. At the other side of the room was a three tiered dais that held a single chair- the Throne of Omashu. Gemstone statues of armadillo-lions lined the way to the throne. Just behind it was a large tapestry that depicted an armadillo-lion roaring atop a mountain.
During the descent, Touqa screamed and leapt into Pauqa’s lap. The dark eyed man threw his companion down in exasperation. Flopsy the ginormous beast remained tranquil in the presence of his master. "There are too many revelations for me to keep up with. What is all of this? And-" he whirled on Flopsy- "what is that?"
King Bumi grinned toothily. "Keep your mind sharper than your sword, young man." He glared at Liu-Sheng and the others, banishing them while Sokka's men (and Suki) closed in around their chief. The esoteric earthbender seemed amused. "What is it that you want to know?"
For a moment Sokka paused. The man before him was over one hundred years old; he had seen kings rise and die, nations prosper and bend. There was a lot to learn from this king. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?!”
King Bumi cackled. “My army scouts spotted you before you had even left Makapau. When I told them to detain you, I didn’t intend for them to be so rough. My apologies. You all did well in the welcoming Rumble, the best I’ve ever seen!” He waddled towards his dais and climbed the steps, taking a seat on his throne. Sokka followed until he was at the foot of the steps.
"Tell me about the Fire Nation."
At that, the Omashian king's fell and his jovial expression turned to dust. "The Fire Nation that killed your father or the Fire Nation that led the world into an industrial revolution, that I remember even in my most senile years?"
Sokka bared his teeth. "They're the same."
Bumi snorted. "No things remain the same, youngster. It all changed when the new Fire Lord took the reins after killing his brother. A shame, really. A shame and a sham."
Sokka found that hard to believe. The Fire Nation had always been out to consume and destroy, they were the reason why the Air Nomad civilization was crippled, why goods from the Earth Kingdoms had Fire Nation tax stamps, why his father was dead. Why he was here, why his sister was somewhere missing in the world - where was she now? Was she safe? She'd better not have met a boy. " In either case, I have a bone to pick with the Phoenix King."
The King of Omashu's expression was a neutral one, so out of place among his disjointed features. "And then you will die." Perceiving his words as a threat, Sokka's entourage bristled. The ancient ruler neither backtracked nor stumbled. "What brought you from the ice, after all these years of doing the bare minimum to avoid repercussion?"
Revenge. First and foremost, Sokka had rose up to overthrow his father's murderer. Was that not an honorable goal? Were there not innumerable tales of men who went to the ends of the earth to save or avenge their loved ones? Sokka reached into his pocket and flashed the Pai Sho tile. "A woman gave me this and said to show it to you. What does this mean, or are we going to have a game of speed Pai Sho? I'm a little rusty."
"It means," the king began with an impish smile, "that us old folks have been working long before you were even thought of, boy. Those who carry that tile all belong to a sect known as the Order of the White Lotus-"
"Who work to restore and achieve balance in all the nations of the world." Suki interrupted, mouth agape. "Of course! Some of the elders back on Kyoshi have that tile! Why hadn't I remembered before?" She whirled on Sokka. "He can really help you."
Bumi's eyes glittered with amusement. "You will help us first." He leaned forward, the warmth of his breath wafting to Sokka's unprepared nostrils. Sokka was uncertain if it was a statement or a request. He decided to err on the side of caution. "Because you see, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, us old decrepit retirees have been working. And if you want to free your nation from the Phoenix King, you'll have to back another."
"Another what?" Sokka inquired.
"The Order has also been moving tiles to bring the forgotten nephew of the Phoenix King out of hiding and to install him on the throne, so all us little people can finally live without the firebenders breathing on our neck. Lay your stone with him and it'll all click like honey to a badgermole's lower jaw." Bumi answered.
Sokka's head swam. Put his trust in the Phoenix King's nonexistent nephew, who might be just as much of a nutcase as the rest of his family? He weighed his options: join up with a squad of old people or continue his journey alone, even though his money was short and his plan quickly losing direction? He turned to his men, to Kunip and Mika and Touqa and Suki and Yanik and Pauqa. They were all waiting on him.
"And say this guy, the Phoenix King, doesn't go down easily? I'm going to need men and money if I'm going to protect the tribe and join forces with...whoever," Sokka argued, taking a page from the book of his father. "That was the whole point of us leaving home. So say I do, you'll have to give me soldiers." It was a fair enough trade. "Two thousand for starters?”
"Done." Bumi dismissed him, as if rallying two thousand men to follow a foreigner was child's play.
The gears went into motion in Sokka's mind. two thousand men, plus supplies and weaponry, would bring the attention of every unsavory eye as they crossed the Earth Kingdoms. It would also slow him down tremendously. "How exactly am I supposed to transport these soldiers? We don't exactly have boats that can soar on land."
The Earth Kingdom's crooked old smile returned. "Chief Sokka, have you never seen a train?"
He had not, and a boyish excitement crashed upon him. There was technology that he had never conceived of, places that defied his wildest imagination suddenly within reach.
There was a catch.
There was always a catch.
"You'll have to pay them, though. With a loan from Gaoling," the Earth King went on.
Of course, Sokka thought tartly, of course. He twiddled with the Pai Sho tile and his mind went to his sister, somewhere in the world far from him. To Yue in the Fire Nation, surrounded by the men who killed Sokka’s father. He squared his jaw and in his gaze he took in King Bumi. "So the Order of the White Lotus has been hiding this secret prince for years...why haven't you all rescued my sister and Princess Yue?" To imagine that all these months they had been left amongst a people who celebrated public executions...the sheer gall of old people to play mysterious when they had so much power.
Suki laid a hand on his shoulder.
"Life does not lend us easy solutions," replied the king, solemn and serious, as though this was a lesson hard taught. “In time you will learn.”
That night they dined in Omashian finery, their smallest requests granted by green eyed servants. It took Sokka a while to grow accustomed to the crystal clusters that jutted from the floors like stone bushes, and even longer to grow comfortable with the sight of Amarok, Yukka, Innik and Desna once they had been returned to him. His dogs had been close shaven, losing much of their formidable bulk. Amarok had taken it to heart, curled up at the base of Sokka's bed with his feathered tail over his nose. Yukka settled by the window. Innik laid on his back, all four paws in the air, chasing snow squirrels and otterpenguins in his dreams.
Young Desna watched his master, keen eyes flashing to the door when there was a quiet knock. Suki entered before Sokka could answer, her large eyes scanning the room. She had chosen to replace her armor for a olive colored gown, a shade which did not quite suit her but Sokka knew better than to insult a woman's taste.
Besides, this woman had a sword.
"You're still awake?" Suki asked, letting the door close behind her.
"This would be a lot more awkward if I wasn't," Sokka quipped and a brilliant red flashed across Suki's cheeks, mirroring the warmth that he felt spreading down his neck. "What's wrong?" That was a safe question. What do you want would have been marginally more risky. Provocative even. A challenge.
Suki was the first to return to normalcy, a smile flickering across her mouth that did not match her questioning eyes. She stepped further into the room, throwing her leg out to miss the great mass of Desna, and sat down at Sokka's desk. "Nothing’s wrong. All these months that I have known you, Sokka, and you've never told me about your family. About your father, your sister and your mom."
A familiar chill went down Sokka's neck, the ache of grief that he had fought so hard to swallow down for the sake of being a leader in a foreign land. "My father was the chief," he clipped, "you already know that. But...he is was the greatest dad ever." He had been little once, and his father was chasing him through the halls while roaring like a Polar Bear Dog and he had caught him, too. Sokka remembered the last days, when his ritual hunts had begun and his father painted his face the way that all fathers painted the faces of their sons, passing the tradition from the past to the future. "Some men, especially noblemen, have kids just for the sake of carrying on lineages. But my dad...we were his world . My mom died when my sister and I were both still little, but she was a warrior. Katara, my sister, takes after her." His baby sister, the annoying brat that she was, his closest confidant on cold nights. For much of their life, they had been found curled around each other like puppies or conspiring to execute Sokka’s grand schemes. "She's fierce, maybe a little overbearing at times, but she's a dreamer. You'll never meet a kinder person, Suki, someone who just loves. There's an orphan village over the hill from our palace and ever since we were young, Katara's wanted to fund them. She's a waterbender, you know, and we fortify the walls every now and then. My sister is amazing."
At least she had been. Sokka didn't know anymore.
The Kyoshian had teared up and with shame Sokka realized that he had, too. He missed them all, terribly. Bato and Gran-Gran, too, who were not dead to him but far away all the same. Suki crossed the distance and sat at the edge of the bed. Sokka’s heart beat faster. When did it get so hot? Suki draped an arm across his shoulders and Sokka breathed in the scent of her, the smell of feminine soap that masked her natural aroma. Her hands were calloused and rough, a warrior's hands, but the rest of her was like satin as she eased down to lie beside him. She raised her head and her lips skimmed his, testing the waters, advancing when he did not refuse.
How could he?
It was his first kiss, really. His first real kiss, no daring pecks with the kitchen girls, but a concentrated effort. They explored each other like that, lips widening and breaths coming out in excited bursts, Sokka relishing in the way Suki's cheeks reddened like a plum. The way his worries faded away from him, until all that remained in the guest room of the palace of the King of Omashu was that auburn haired girl. The girl who did not feel like home, who did not have the frigidity of IcePoint, but who felt like a fireplace in an igloo. Safe and secure, and as reliable as the stars that always shone overhead. The rest was still uncertain, but this moment was not. Sokka clung to it, falling deep into it, and right now the rest could wait.
Chapter 37: Empires Forged from Blood and Fire
Chapter Text
Yue
Yue rose the way all highborn noblewomen rose: with conviction and a bitter deep set desire to see her enemies crumble and fall. Tui eyed her mistress as Yue dressed herself, laying aside her pompous blue and fitting herself into a red gown. It was an act of rebellion, of a newfound revolution following the delightfully sweet information that had fallen into her lap.
The Phoenix Queen was a whore.
There were several ways that Yue could utilize that tantalizing secret when the time was ripe, though she analyzed them all during her sleepless nights. It would be easy, too easy, to simply use the knowledge as blackmail against the Phoenix Queen. But to what substantial gain? It would not save her people. It would not be her ticket out of this land. The Koi would have to look further than her little pond, to the sea that lay in wait. Yue brushed her hair with vigor. Her hair, gleaming white after months under the Fire Nation sun, had grown almost to her waist. She kept it unbound, letting it spill over her shoulders audaciously save for a single beaded braid down the middle. She was Water Tribe, ice surrounded by fire, touched by the Moon Spirit itself.
Tui leapt to her feet, her collar clattering, as Yue rose to exit. The polar dog followed soundlessly as Yue closed the door of the chambers behind her, ignoring the inquisitive eyes of the cleaning staff. Very rarely did she leave her room without the accompaniment of Azula and Zuko or the queen, yet today she marched through the inner sanctum of the palace with Tui slithering at her heels. If her own face was placid, then the features of her pet reflected the true change within her: mouth agape to show wicked teeth, ears pricked and rotating to catch every sound, a low growl hanging in her throat. She headed to the great library of the palace, where she knew she would find him amongst the ancient books and scrolls of his predecessors, amongst the secrets of the past writ in faded calligraphy.
The dragons on the wall rose to greet her and the scent of aged paper wafted towards her nose as Yue entered the library. The sight of so much knowledge never ceased to captivate her and her fingers itched up pick up just one of the scrolls. Not yet, she commanded to herself, not yet. She maneuvered her way to the last row of tables, where she knew she would find him.
And she did.
The Phoenix King Ozai sat alone, shining radiantly in red and gold. He looked up when she approached, sunrise eyes unreadable as she bowed in deference. "Princess Yue," he acknowledged her. "You have risen early. What has brought you here?"
Yue nodded. "It seems I have taken after you firebenders, my lord, and have begun to rise with the sun." She laced her hands behind her back, offering him her most genial smile. "I wanted to find material to read and furthermore I thought I would find you here, my lord, and as per Providence I did."
At that, the Phoenix King seemed bemused. He appraised her once more, the way that a man would analyze a woman. "And all this time I thought you feared me." He gestured for her to sit and Yue obeyed.
"Oh I do, my lord, greatly." Yue lowered her eyes. "One would be a keen fool to not fear a man as great and powerful as yourself. My quaint Water Tribe heart trembles ." He was a man who took pride in the reputation of his heartlessness, at the sphere of scorching invincibility that surrounded him. It was a sphere which Yue hoped, with conniving glee, to crack. If she could fracture the foundations, she could fell the giant. The man chuckled and sobered quickly, as was his nature. Very rarely did the man laugh. Yue knew she would not have him charmed so easily. She glanced down at the scroll he was reading.
It was a religious text, and next to it he had been writing notes of his own in his tight, rigid penmanship. He moved the paper out of her view, but not before she caught a glimpse of the writing and pieced together the context. Apotheosis and the study of spiritual transcendence. "My daughter and son have been treating you well." It was not a question, there was no upward tick in his voice that suggested uncertainty. "I see you have taken up self defense since the event on Ember Island."
Yue stiffened involuntarily. Though she had battled against the nightmares that plagued her, at times she still felt the weight of the man's corpse on her, the warmth of his blood on her hands. It had been carved into her and perhaps that would be the pivotal event she would reflect upon in her later years, the moment that had changed her permanently. "It would be quite advantageous in a place like this one."
His eyes flashed at her tone. "I have yet to receive a response from your father about the question of the Avatar. And granted I suppose you would not know if the Southern Water Tribe has any knowledge, either." He locked her there, thrown off course like a ship caught in a rogue storm, having gained the upper hand.
"I am not in the North Pole, my lord, perhaps there has been a great political disruption. It seems that is becoming increasingly common these days.” Yue concealed the stammer in her voice, feeling her control slip out from under her. Her mind reeled. “Or perhaps the letter was simply lost in the journey. Messenger hawks can be blown off course.” Her father, man that he was, would not ignore the Phoenix King. He was not like the chief Hakoda who defied until they slit his proud throat. Yue's father bowed and acquiesced when necessary, especially for the safety of his daughter.
And Kuruk, her little fat Kuruk.
Resistance would not bode well for your people.
Ozai peeled her skin back with his cruel eyes, laying her bare for the clueless tile-mover that she was. "I would consider it a great shame for the Northern Water Tribe to lose its autonomous status and become a satellite. It is to my knowledge that you, a female, would never be able to become a chieftain, correct?"
Yue nodded. Her society, upon seeing the freedom in which Fire Nation women enjoyed, appeared sexist and harsh. Women who happened to be waterbenders, like her mother, were forbidden to learn anything other than healing. With a pang Yue recalled sitting upon the trial of a young girl who treacherously dared to practice combative bending in secret; she had been sentenced to flogging and public embarrassment. Her betrothal necklace had been ripped away and thrown into the canal. Yue had cried after at the cruelty of the law. "If not for the birth of my brother, my future husband would have been next in line for chieftain. Such is the way of my people."
The Phoenix King stroked his beard. They sized each other up, two ancient regimes embodied in blue and gold. Yue cleared her throat and stood, curtsying elegantly. "Our paths will continue to meet, my lord," she whispered prettily and exited the library. The Northern Water Tribe had not been built in a day and she could not expect to pick away at the royal family’s weaknesses so easily. Yue was not yet certain of her endgame, but she knew that all great games left one man standing.
As the door of the library shut behind her and Tui, Yue exhaled. Her heart had been racing the entire time, swept up irreversibly in the Phoenix King's deadly allure. How could a man so terrible and heartless be so beautiful? The Water Tribe princess sighed and wandered through the labyrinth of halls, surprised that for once she did not encounter the Phoenix King's children. Especially not Zuko, who had all but disappeared from her.
That night at the gala he had seen, too. Their gazes had crossed through the night, both bearing witness to the queen's scornful infidelity. And Yue had watched as the servers poured wine into him at his mother's behest until he was drunk and stumbling, whisked away by his sister. Ursa could erase one witness, could drown any skepticism or hazy memories, but she had not seen Yue. Much to her chagrin Yue was still unable to identify the mystery man whose hands had carelessly been up the queen's skirt. Neither his hair nor clothing had been distinctive, and Yue had not lingered long enough to hear him speak. She only hoped that the spirits would illuminate him for her in due time.
Had a woman of such high station been found guilty of adultery in the North, it laid in the hands of her husband to decide her fate. Yue had never sat in on a trial of that sort before and she tried to imagine how they dealt punishment in the Fire Nation. An execution surely in a place that put high value on honor.
She ventured to the queen's gardens, drawing in the revitalizing scent of well-tended flowers. There were no other souls drifting about, not even the gardeners, which Yue found quite conductive to her planning. With Tui's head in her lap, Yue began to sketch out the rough drafts of her next moves. She had never toppled a dynasty before, but all strong men had a weak heel.
If the spirits and gods of the North Pole still listened to her in this land so far from home then she prayed they would give her the strength to get close enough to the Phoenix King to rip out his heart.
The tinkle of high born laughter announced the arrival of the Phoenix Queen and her entourage. Yue straightened herself at the sight of the woman. Her dark hair was swept up into a half bun, laying like a shadow across the vibrant orange of her dress. The women behind her were all inadequate in comparison, imitations of the same standard of Fire Nation beauty. Ursa offered Yue an amiable greeting, extending her hand out for Tui to sniff. "I hope we are still treating you well, Yue."
"I am honored, my queen," Yue replied. She leaned into the maternal embrace that Ursa offered, the way the queen's hands pressed against her back the same way her mother's would when she was about to offer advice. "Please forgive me for invading your garden."
Ursa dismissed the apology. "It is always a pleasure to see you, Yue." She turned back to her ladies. "She truly is lovely, like I said. Her mother must ache to be without her." There might have been poison in those words, the same way that Azula said one thing and meant another. It was a family trait. "If you all would excuse me, I'd like to have a private moment with the princess." She watched pointedly as the noblewomen ushered themselves out before sitting next to Yue, hands dutifully in her lap.
Yue waited.
For a long heartbeat, Ursa was silent, as though she was gathering her thoughts and arranging them like a florist might do to a bouquet. "My husband, Yue, brought to my attention an interesting piece of news of your people. I'm sure you have heard of the reemergence of the Avatar."
"In passing," Yue murmured. It had only been a fleeting thought, overwhelmed by her present preoccupation. "There is not very much that he could do, considering he would be an infant."
Ursa pursed her lips. "He would be much older than an arm babe, princess. According to the Fire Sages that advise our king, the signals announcing his return indicate that the Avatar is much older than expected. Old enough to activate another state of being." She stiffened. "Old enough to be a threat."
Tui let out a groan, pacing with agitation.
Yue scoffed. "Well I hope the Avatar isn't a woman, my lady, because if she's in the North then she'll be married off and there'll be nothing to fear." She met the Phoenix Queen's gaze, noticed that there was a greenish flaw in the upper left corner of her right eye. "Us women are only as powerful as our fathers allow us to be."
"Unless you seize it yourself." Ursa said sharply and Yue knew then that Azula was truly her daughter, that they shared the same tongue. "You're only as powerful as you allow yourself to be, Yue, and even more so if you align yourself with a powerful man. You are of marrying age now. When I was your age, I had just come from Hira'a as the Phoenix King's betrothed. Within the span of a year, he went from the spare Prince of the Fire Nation to the Phoenix King." She leaned forward. "Consider what I say, Yue."
The Phoenix Queen rose with a pat on Yue's knee. She left, as fully submersed in her role as queen as if she had been born for that sole purpose. Yue watched her leave, pondering her words, and wondered when she'd become so bitter.
The two days that followed were uneventful. Azula came for her and with Ty-Lee, she practiced the art of chi-blocking. Yue followed the lessons with vigor, throwing herself into the routine until sweat dripped from the tip of her nose. She knew from watching her mother heal that all people had chi, which coursed through them like rivers. From Ty Lee she learned that these rivers could be rerouted and blocked, essentially negating the power of bending or paralyzing an opponent. She had grown stronger over time until she and Tui were a coordinated unit. Tui fed off of her energy, weaving between her legs and snapping at Ty-Lee’s ankles and calves until Yue was able to circle around and disable the girl, relishing in her triumph.
On the third day, neither the siblings nor the queen summoned her. She did not find the Phoenix King in the library, which gave her free reign. With her polar dog standing guard at the entrance, Yue began to scour the numerous shelves for any mention of the fabled Avatar. She loaded her arms full of every volume and scroll, even those written in a calligraphy that she did not recognize. Seating herself at a round table, Yue opened the first volume which was aptly entitled the Avatar and the Fire Lord. It was written by a religious man almost two hundred years ago with a proclivity to use high flautín language. Yue's royal education allowed her decipher the text, even though she ground her teeth.
The Avatar was reborn into one of the four elemental classes, following the cycle of the seasons. Autumn for air, winter for water, earth for spring and summer for fire. The priest of the Fire Nation wrote of the last firebending Avatar, a man who had been called Roku. He had been born to the mayor of an island known as Hira'a-
Hira'a.
Yue paused. The Phoenix Queen came from Hira'a, which was perhaps not as insignificant as Yue thought. She went on, learning that Roku had spent the last years of his childhood as the companion to the Prince of the Fire Nation and mastering the element of fire. The two remained close until their later years, where the Fire Lord began his expansionist policies and practices. They quarreled for close to twenty years until Roku "did as was his nature". Yue pondered those words and their possible meanings. What was his nature? That of a firebender? She tapped the words with her fingernail and went on, learning that Roku had returned to a Fire Nation ruled by his enemy and died in a natural disaster. None of it helped her to understand anything about the Avatar, much to her annoyance. There were no vital tidbits of information that she could use to save her nation, no hints on where the Avatar was.
She knew that he was not a baby, nor was he an old man. The dark side of her hoped that he would die soon and reincarnate into one of the earthbending kingdoms, let him be their problem. She did not need the fate of her people hanging upon her shoulders, hoping that they would turn over a boy who should not exist. Yue closed the volume and pressed her head against her hands to quell the dull ache beginning to blossom, taking a minute note of the day's date.
She was seventeen years old.
Had she been in the North, her day would have been celebrated with a feast and the arrival of dozens of young men to ask for her hand once more. She had turned each of them down last year at the advice of her mother, who stated that a good warrior was willing to wait. Knowing that Kuruk would take precedence in the line of succession gave her mind some ease: her family name would stay elevated yet longer.
There was the faint register of a knock on the library door and Tui uttered a warning growl from where she lay. With her neck craned and rising from her seat, Yue went to check for the source of her polar dog's agitation. At the entrance of the library stood the Prince Zuko, awkwardly clutching a book while Tui refused to grant him passage. When he tried to duck left, she leapt in front of him, as if teasing him and threatening him all at once.
Yue's mind began to race. She doubted that Zuko remembered what they had seen- his mother had ensured that his memories were wiped clean with wine, and she wondered if she could use him to her advantage. It would take a long time to learn how to crack Ozai, but Zuko was the same age as her and it would be easy to form a rapport with him. All fortresses fell from within, and Yue had found a weak link.
"Tui." She called the dog back and the white furred animal retreated to her side, still eyeing Zuko with suspicion as he stepped into the library. "Prince Zuko."
"Princess Yue." The slightest red blush had come across his cheeks. He did not have the dangerous beauty of his father, the sleek eyes that made Ozai and Azula seem so feline and predatory. His own were tristful and lingering, taking in everything for what it was worth and not for what he could make it into. “I didn't know I would find you here."
Yue offered him a smile. "I hope I haven't ruined your day with my presence," said she as Zuko moved closer. "I was just so bored that I had to come do something. Have you been busy?"
Zuko nodded. "The duties that my father assigned me have picked up momentum," he answered, shifting the book from one arm to another. He fidgeted like an unruly child, a trait that Yue's own mother had beaten out of her with a well-swung sandal to the back of Yue's thighs. His eyes darkened considerably, his brooding features tilting down at whatever thought crossed his mind. "You must be bored all day without my sister or mother."
"Hence why I am here." Yue tilted her head. "What were you reading if I may have the liberty to ask?"
The Prince of the Fire Nation represented the book to her, entitled The Phoenix Revolution. Yue imagined there were hundreds of more entertaining and poetic titles but she kept her opinions mum. "The Phoenix King oversees all new books going into mass circulation by reading the first copy. The last one Azula burnt. My father did not approve of this one, either…" he paused, "it does not paint my father in a favorable light."
She took the book from Zuko, turning it one way and then the other. "That tends to happen with giants, Prince Zuko. From one angle they look like gods, from another they might be monsters." Opening the book, Yue peered closely at the portraits leading into the written history. The first was of an older man who in his heyday had the same venomous comeliness as Ozai, though age had begun to erode him. His face matched that of the statue that guarded the entry point of the caldera and Yue knew him to be the Fire Lord Azulon. "These are your family members?"
"Some," Prince Zuko responded, "though my father would rather not claim Iroh or his son. They're long dead in any case."
Yue raised her head. "Killed."
Zuko shifted, as if he was about to turn tail and flee. "My father is not known for tenderness. You respect him or you suffer the consequences. His blood isn't exempt from that."
There was a strain in his voice, a quiver that suggested that he knew all too well of his father's volatility. Yue set the book on a table and opened her palms as she sat. Zuko, without prompting, did the same. Spinning her web carefully, Yue lowered her voice. "Not even you?"
The prince scoffed, his voice grating like rusted metal. " Especially not me. I'm his heir." The flesh at his temple pulsed as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. "I'll tell you this. My father almost burned me, when I was thirteen. For speaking out of turn in a war council."
Yue leaned forward to hear him and covered his hand with her own. "Who saved you? Your mother?" Any mother worth her weight would intervene for the life of her child. Yue had seen women offer to take lashings on the behalf of their purloining sons.
Zuko averted his gaze. "No. She just watched." His face darkened, as if his shame lay under his skin. "I was foolish to speak out of turn and that day Father was...angrier than normal. There are times…my father is not always as mild as he’s been since you’ve been here. I embarrassed him and in front of all the generals he rose. I can still see him walking across the room, he had fire in his hands and everyone was watching. Mother just stared at us while Father held the flame in front of my face. I thought she would speak out. I remember I had started crying, that I begged for his forgiveness. Azula was the one who intervened." At once their eyes snapped to meet each other, him finally realizing that the girl he was confessing to was also a victim of his father's cruelty. "She has always been brilliant."
"You're the Crown Prince."
"So was Iroh." Zuko grumbled.
Yue paused. She could imagine Azula treading in the steps of her father, plotting on her kin. It was certainly within her- the firebender had a penchant for indiscrimative savagery. "Such is the way of royalty. Your mother is not from the Capitol, correct?"
Zuko shook his head. "She came from Hira'a when she was around Azula's age to be betrothed to my father. Through her we're related to the last Fire Nation Avatar, which is why my grandfather ordered them to be married. Well, I guess. Apparently he was a psychopath. No one really understood him in his latter years.”
How intriguing. Yue nodded. "So the history goes as told by my nation. I imagine she must have been very lonely at first, so young and alone, marrying into such a powerful family." As were all noblewomen. "Especially at a time of such pivotal change."
Upon hearing Zuko's anecdote, Yue figured that she had grossly misunderstood which of the two rulers was the most dangerous. Ozai was a creature to fear but Ursa, a woman who would've watched the mutilation of her son, was the one to be wary of. This was something that Yue already knew but what she was now certain of. The Phoenix Queen was a schemer and a snake and if Yue ever hoped to save herself, she would have to be the same. She smiled prettily. “It’s always a pleasure, Prince Zuko.”
“Zuko.” He said. “You can just say Zuko.”
——
Azula danced with fire at her fingertips and at her heels, dodging the knives that Mai hurled with ease. Yue stepped in and out of her shadow, blocking the punches that Ty Lee threw in her direction. Right jab. Block. Duck. High kick, aim for the gut. Tui followed at her feet, gnashing her teeth when Ty Lee came too close.
Perspiration had gathered on Yue's brow. They had been practicing for hours, beginning with the sunrise. Her shirt was soaked through, clinging to her skin. Her hair, worked loose from its basic plait, stuck to the nape of her neck.
The Phoenix Princess let her arms fall to her side, ending the session in time for a light lunch. Her full physique was on display in her training clothes, from her sinewy arms and toned abdomen. For once she was decked out in gold rather than her usual garnet red, the shade contrasting against her softly tanned skin. Her hair, normally in a topknot, was drawn back into a simple wolf tail. "You kept up, Yue. Surprising."
Yue exhaled, trying not to let the full extent of her exhaustion show. "Your regimen has proven to be quite...intense." One of Ty Lee's earlier punches had bruised her arm, already an unsightly shade of greenish blue.
"You're coming along so nicely, Yue!" Ty Lee beamed as she draped her arms over the princess. "You're going to be more Fire Nation than Water Tribe soon!" She ran her slender fingers down the ridges in Yue's spine before grabbing her hand. "I can't believe you didn't tell anyone that you had already turned seventeen."
It had been the Phoenix Queen who called Yue out in front of the whole family, asking why she had been too shy to request a gift when they loved her so dearly. Yue played her role well, stating that their hospitality was a gift, all the while sizing up the Phoenix.
"You'll turn into an old aunt soon by your tribe's standards, pitched off to some old has-been," Azula sneered. "That's if Mother doesn't marry you off to Zuzu first." She beamed as she took in both Mai and Yue. "That'd be one for the century, the marriage of Fire and Water- if my father ever stood for some half-Nation spawn to sit on the throne he forged. You know they're discussing it, marrying you off."
Mai and Ty Lee exchanged glances. Yue froze, blindsided. She had not considered that. Ozai now had paternal authority over her, much like an appointed guardian would in the North. It was well within his legal right to pair her off with whomever he chose. She could not imagine a life stuck in the Fire Nation, the trophy wife of some yellow eyed noble who took pleasure in watching the Water Tribes burn.
Azula sang gleefully, having achieved her goal of throwing Yue off kilter. She led them all across the training grounds, back into the main building of the palace. The groundskeepers bowed as they passed, sweeping the walkways clean. As they stepped inside, Yue was struck with a peculiar sense of apprehension and even Azula's triumphant demeanor quickly changed.
The air of the palace was superheated and stank of fear. Azula's face turned to stone as she led the way to her room, where all the girls had changed their clothes. The servants that ghosted by them were more skittish than normal, eyes downcast, faces placid. Azula entered the chambers and promptly began to shed her training clothes, unashamed of nakedness in front of the other young noblewomen.
Yue grimaced as she did the same, still unaccustomed to the Fire Nation standard of decency. In public they were beacons of decorum and honor, though not bashful of the human form in private. Yue had seen Azula nude more times than she had ever wanted to. At times she found her own body awkward and foreign when she studied herself in the looking glass, the years of knobby knees and angles replaced by decades yet to come of soft skin and curves.
They took turns showering under the spout installed in Azula’s personal bathing room, though the water from the pipes was uncomfortably hot. Only Azula seemed immune to the heat, the steam drifting throughout the suite. Yue was sweating once more by the time it was her turn.
She dressed herself in the burgundy dress given to her, lacing up the flat heeled sandals, and removed her hair from the plait. She promised herself that she would give herself a long pampering in the (cool) bath later that night in hopes of easing the tension locked between her bones that the brief shower had done little to alleviate Mai and Ty Lee departed to the litters that awaited them outside, bidding farewell first to Azula and then to Yue as an afterthought.
Upon freshening up, the two princesses headed to the public dining hall where the Phoenix Queen conducted her luncheons. Azula strode in first, neck thrown high so that her crown caught the light, acknowledging her parents with a bow and salute. They sat at the head of the table, a model pair of Fire Nation nobility, narrow eyes and dark brows solemn. Ursa had one hand on the Phoenix King's forearm, her thumb running slow yet calculated circles over his sleeve. The Prince Zuko was seated across from them, brooding severely.
"You are late." Ozai said by way of greeting.
Azula instantly switched into the role of dutiful daughter as she took her seat. "A million apologies, Father, I simply wanted to train more so that I can one day emulate your greatness." She looked up at him through her long lashes. "I breathe and practice so that I may bring pride to my father and King."
Placated, or perhaps just bored, Ozai looked at Yue and nodded his head in approval of her dress. For an ephemeral heartbeat, the Phoenix Queen's eyes glossed over with irritation before she calmed herself, giving the Water Tribe princess a motherly smile. The tension still hung heavy in the air- not just petty jealousy. It radiated off of the Phoenix King as the servants brought forth an arrangement of light foods, the skin of his temple pulsing in time to his thoughts.
The children waited in the way that one would watch a kettle just before it boiled over.
Yue leaned back in her seat.
"He's alive ." The Phoenix King snarled and Yue flinched even though he wasn't speaking directly to her.
"Who?" Inquired his wife, grasping his hand.
"Iroh's boy." He responded and even Azula's eyes widened. The chopsticks that he had been holding turned to ash, staining the cloth of his shirt. "Word of his existence was brought to me this morning. All this time he has been kept away, but at last he has slithered out of whatever hole they hid him in." He ground his teeth, a growl low in his throat. This was the madman, Yue realized. This was the man who killed his own brother. This was the man who had almost burned his son.
Ursa patted his hand, shooting a nervous glance at her children. "Are you certain, my love? There has been no word of Lu Ten's survival in twenty years- surely there would have been some sign of him before? It might just be an imposter looking to stir up dissent. Don't fear ghosts in the night, my lord. You are the morning star, the Phoenix from the ashes." It was obvious that she had said those words before, though they held no weight in pacifying the Fire Lord. He tore away from her, a thousand infernos set alight in the gold of his irises.
"Providence has given me twenty years of solid reign. And yet at once I have met opposition with the discovery of the Avatar and the traitor's spawn." His face contorted and the temperature of the room spiked. “Right at the cusp of-” his voice trailed off at Ursa’s stern touch.
"You were chosen by the gods, my love. Agni shone his light on you." Ursa dared a smile, the taming hand. "The Universe has given you power as one of the greatest firebenders known to exist, has given you two children to uphold your legacy. Now, love, enough. You are frightening the Princess Yue."
Zuko and Azula had both clustered around Yue, familiar with the wrath of their father. Zuko had put his arm almost in front of her while Azula had inched closer. "Mother is right, Father. We are untouchable." That was Azula, given more leeway than what her brother would have been allowed. "I say you kill the imposter in any case, to show our strength. Hunt him down. The wrath of the Phoenix King and the Fire Nation are the same. You forged this empire from blood and fire, Father, and they mustn’t forget that.”
Ozai was silent, fuming under his skin. Ursa primped her lips and the royal children breathed inaudible sighs of relief. Yue wrung her hands. And in the stagnant moments that followed they began to eat.
Chapter 38: Blood in the Water
Chapter Text
Katara
The world pulsed around her, the soft glow of all living things just out of sight in the corner of her eye. Katara was uncertain of when she began to see it, or perhaps she always had and just recently had begun to notice. The trees embracing either side of the road rustled, the gurgle of the river just barely audible. Jun had set a brutal pace, working the shirshu each day to the point of exhaustion. Katara was not sure how long they had been traveling- long enough for the moon to wane and wax and wane again.
The dreams still came to her, visions of lives that were once hers. It appeared to her that some great door had been unlocked within her, that all this time the mysteries of the world past had been inside of her, sealed in a jar that had to be upturned. They came to her like mothers in the night, their lullabies more familiar than those of her tribe. She knew the sweetness of air and the pressure of earth and the unforgiving nature of fire that burned. The two that came to her most were Roku, the firebender who could've stopped the reign of the man who was the predecessor of her father's murderer, and the one who came after him, whose gray eyes shone with childish joy and a timeless sorrow. His name was Aang. They lamented that they could've done more sooner, that perhaps she could rebalance the world and appease the gods where they had been unable to.
Other times she dreamt feverishly of her father. In them she played the role of a passive observer, able to see and hear but never to alter the reality that she watched. Most times she was an arm babe, many moons less than a year old, swaddled up in dyed furs. Her mother existed in these dreams, as comely and fierce as everyone described her as. She walked with the dignity of a man and the grace of a woman, and when men in white cloaks came to IcePoint she brandished her club like the best of them. She bared her teeth like a wolf. It was Hakoda who calmed her, holding toddling mischievous Sokka as the strange men discussed the fate of the second-born Polar Bear Dog. 'Let us raise her' said the men, 'to be more than a Polar Bear Dog. To serve the world and not just her nation.'
'I'll kill them all,' her mother always threatened, the ferocity ringing in her voice. 'Bash them open and make them dog food if they try and take her. She is Water Tribe. She is a waterbender . She is ours.' In the dreams, she was ready to take up arms against her own husband and chief. After deliberations with the elders of the tribe, Hakoda acquiesced and the question of Katara being anything other than Katara of the Southern Water Tribe was staunchly dismissed.
When the sun rose, with it came a piercing sense of deception, that every soul had lied to her since she was an infant out of nationalistic selfishness. To think that she was the Avatar, a guardian to the world, and she had been squirreled away filled her with indignity and anger. She awoke the same way, the warmth of Jun against her back, the coarse fur of Nyla as a pillow. Even though they were already hours into the day she found it impossible to shake fatigue.
The road they traveled on was a busy one, a trade route between three Earth Kingdoms. Despite their common tendency to wear green, she was beginning to differentiate the regions. Those from Banka-Kadi tended to lean towards bluish green hues, with darker skin and black hair. Earthbenders from Taku were exceptionally tall, taller even than Bato and her father.
"We're almost there," Jun murmured, the first words she had spoken since rising that morning. That was the way she was, only speaking when necessary, her mind on her business. "And you'll be out of my hair for good, kid."
"I wasn't the one to tell you to take me to the Eastern Air Temple," Katara retorted and squeaked as Jun spun in the saddle, clapping her hand over her mouth. The bounty huntress glared at her, the sweat of her palms pressed against Katara's cheeks, the salt of it on her lips.
"Do you want the wrong crowd to get you, idiot? Do you want someone who'll snatch you up and take you to some red light district?" Jun dropped her hand, dark eyes wary. "I've searched for plenty of missing daughters who wound up in lipstick and trashy gowns. Some of them are found too late, with a fatherless whelp in their belly. These roads aren't safe for young girls like you, especially not for you, given who and what you are."
She was the princess of the Southern Water Tribe and the Avatar. "I thought your whole objective was to get me to the Eastern Air Temple so you can get paid. You care about me because it'll ruin your profit if you don't." Katara ground her teeth. Despite having been born wealthy and her every whim catered to since childhood, she had never understood why people spent their whole lives chasing monetary gain. Her father had taught them altruism, to love and care for others with no ulterior motive. "Why should you care what happens to other young girls? What’s your motivation? Money, of course."
Jun bristled and Katara realized that she had awoken something locked and hidden within the bounty huntress, something wrapped up tightly that now threatened to force its way back out. The intensity of her glare warmed Katara's skin, igniting her own passion, and she was sure that the exchange was visible to those who passed by them. "Some people do not have the privilege of running to their king when their children are snatched in the night. They run to me. And believe it or not, Blue Eyes, I'm the one who has to hold crying mothers upright as they give me their life savings and their daughter's night shirt. I’m the one who hunts down the bastard that killed their husband. It's not about the money then. Sometimes it's about doing the right thing. Sometimes it's about trying to make this world a little less horrible."
"That's what I want to do," Katara's voice was a strained whisper. "Do my best."
"You'll have that chance," Jun responded as she turned around in the saddle. "But until then, just keep your mouth shut."
Katara opened her mouth to protest and promptly closed it once more. She festered over Jun's spiel, thinking on what it would be like to be sold into such a terrible fate. Her mind took a different turn, to Yue, and she wondered what had become of the Northern Water Tribe princess. It had been many months since she had seen her last, boarding the Fire Nation ship. Was she faring better under the fist of the Phoenix King? Was she dead? And Sokka, her beloved brother, what became of him? Her last link to her tribe. She knew nothing for certain; the world she had known no longer existed. Katara was tangentially aware that she would turn fifteen years old soon, within the next two months. She felt as though she had aged fifty years.
They trotted on for hours more, turning off of the main road when signs indicated a mid-sized town. The buildings served as both shops and homes, with the first floors selling clothes and prepared food. A diverse group of people milled about, including a large number of extremely dark-skinned, green eyed folk. They were darker even than Katara, their skin rich and smooth looking. Jun murmured that they came from a distant Earth Kingdom, having traveled from the land that produced coffee. Katara decided that their skin matched the shade of coffee, a beautiful contrast against the white and green that they wore. Others had the distinctive look of Air Nomads like the innkeeper, with gray eyes and half-shaven black hair.
Stopping in the middle of the square, Jun dismounted the shirshu and beckoned for Katara to do the same. Clutching the bit lodged in Nyla's mouth, Jun sauntered over to one of the open shops offering generic women's clothing. They seemed like an odd pair- a woman dressed in ghoulish black and a young girl in candid Water Tribe blue. The shop owner smiled invitingly as they approached, though his eyes widened upon sight of Nyla lingering just by the door. "How may I help you?"
Jun shoved Katara forward, waving her hand to indicate the girl's current state of dress. "Fix...this." She ordered, unable to draw an appropriate word from the air. "She needs a full week's worth of new clothes. Nothing fancy, nothing blue."
At the prospect of making money, the shop owner beamed and brandished a measuring tape. He leapt over the counter, swooping Katara up in his arms. "I imagine she would look stunning in turquoise." He lifted her arms, measuring her bust and waist. He smelled strongly of earthy cologne, soaked into his skin as he rolled the measuring tape along his wrist, snatching down a simple turquoise colored tunic. Filling his arms with shirts that came in shades of aquamarine and celadon green, the shop owner returned to Katara and Jun with glee.
Jun reached into her pocket, tossing an estimated amount of coins in the man's direction. Her eyes were trained on Katara, altering and amending. "Direct me to the seediest inn around here," she ordered. "None of that fancy high class, five hundred yuans a night that I've seen."
Katara withheld her bedraggled sigh and followed Jun without verbal complaint. Her body ached for the warm embrace of her own bed in IcePoint, where Aga would curl up at her feet. That was gone now, destroyed and months in the past, yet part of her hoped she could return one day. She was tired of sagging rented beds and the earth digging into her spine.
The inn itself was unassuming, built more like a longhouse than most other structures in the city. She knew upon first glance that the street was for more unsavory activities, for women who offered and for men who paid to receive and for others who marketed wares that the common man would be ignorant of. They stared as Jun strode to the entrance of the inn, thrusting Nyla's reins into Katara's hands while she went inside. Katara lingered, tense. Nyla snorted and the princess forced herself to lay a calming hand on the shirshu's flank, sensing the animal's agitation. She loosened her grip as the shirshu began to wander about, star-nosed lowered to the ground. Nyla wandered around the back of the inn, where Katara was immediately struck with the smell of a stable.
Travelers had housed their beasts of burden in an old but efficient stable, including a number of ostrich horses and eel hounds. Some wealthy soul even had a rhino-moose. Nyla lashed his tail, absently catching Katara's ankles as he sniffed her way to where the other animals were restrained. They began to bleat and chuff in agitation, the large shirshu's presence setting them at unease. Nyla ignored them all, his wicked sharp teeth glittering with saliva as he sought out the one that interested him most.
In the last enclosure was a large mottled white and gray beast, easily the same size as Nyla, whose bulk could hold three full grown men comfortably. This animal was four-legged and feline in build, sporting powerful shoulders and spring-loaded hindquarters upon which rested a thin, short tail. Its fur was white, though diluted with dust, with deep gray rosettes and spots, the exception being the large rack of dun colored antlers protruding from its head. Katara gasped, her heart startled. It was a leopard-caribou, an animal native to the interior of the South Pole. They were formidable creatures, used as war mounts for distinguished warriors, capable of high speeds when attacking and exemplary stamina work used as transportation. They could hold their own against a Polar Bear Dog, at least as Katara had heard. Her father's friend and advisor, Bato, had owned a center that bred the leopard-caribou for the most desirable traits alongside his war dogs. He charged a premium for his leopard-caribou, selling one or two per season after they were broken in.
The one before her watched her closely, intelligent pale jade eyes above a short snout and dark nose.
"What are you doing out here, so far from home?" Katara murmured, stretching her hand out. The leopard-caribou sniffed it, damp nose pressing against her palm. It recognized the South in her, the winter and ancient ancestry that still resided in her bones and blood. Katara smiled as she stroked the white fur, finding that its undercoat had mostly shed away. Forced to adapt, just as she had. She rubbed its ear, searching for the tag that Bato used to mark his animals. There wasn’t one, which meant this was the product of another breeder. "So far from the South?"
"The wind draws us in many directions, child." Katara spun at the interruption, facing Jun and the speaker. She was a withered woman, perhaps the same age as Gran-Gran, brought down by age and years of work. Her hair was white and her eyes a weakened aquamarine. Katara knew instantly from the loops of hair framing her broad face that the woman was Water Tribe, despite her green clothing. Southern Water Tribe. An amalgamation of emotions flooded her- a person of her own tribe, her people. Here. Here. "They blow us wherever they wish and we have no choice but to respect and fear them."
Southerners did not just believe. They feared.
"I am Hama, the owner of this inn." The elderly woman grasped Katara's extended forearm. She did not recognize her as the Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, which led Katara to believe that this woman was not a recent emigrant. Her smile, though, was inviting like a grandmother's, wise like an elder. "And that is Lusa," she gestured with a gnarled finger to the leopard caribou. "My little piece of the South."
Katara perked up. "You moved recently?" She wondered if Hama knew of any of the recent events, if perhaps there was some news that Katara was ignorant of.
Hama scoffed. "No, child. I have not touched foot in the Southern Water Tribe in nearly twenty years, though I miss it." She walked over to the leopard caribou, caressing the animal's dulled antlers, stirring a deep purr in response. "Lusa's mother was shipped to me, but she's long since passed. Her breeder neglected to say she was pregnant when he sold her to me. It's just been Lusa and I, hand-fed as a cub five years ago."
Jun nodded. "Like Nyla and I," she said, taking hold of the shirshu. "Hama was nice enough to cut us a bargain since we'll be camped up here for a while. She cooks food for all her more morally inclined guests. Up your alley, I imagine." She led Nyla to one of the empty stalls, stiff-legged and sharp-eared.
The old Southerner leaned in close. "It's good to see another, isn't it? A real Tribesman with blood and ice in our veins, as familiar as the water." A waterbender, for sure. "Oh child, why are you here? Don't you have a mother and father back home?"
Katara choked, strangling on the words. "I don't. Not anymore. Don't you know what has happened?"
Hama nodded in tristful affirmation. "The Chief is dead and our Tribe's future is uncertain, little sweet. His son left to seek alliances with the Earth Kingdoms to rally against the injustice." Her eyes were glossy. "And the daughter was stolen away. A sorrow, truly. When I was in the South, Chief Hakoda was still a promising young boy. And now the Polar Bear Dogs have fallen."
Katara's ears rang.
Sokka was alive. Alive and in the Earth Kingdoms like her, maybe only a day away from her spirits how could she tell him that she was the Avatar?! Sokka was alive and within reach of her, all she needed to do was tell Jun and they could track him and they could be together again and they could go back home, there'd be hope for the South- she believed she really did he was the Chief and she was the Avatar he was so close so close so close.
The Polar Bear Dogs had not fallen, nor would they. They were as ancient and resilient as the Koi of the North, as any other family that had withstood the test of time.
"No." She managed to say and Hama eyed her with the penetration of a woman who had seen tides rise and fall.
Jun returned, none the wiser, and stopped at Katara's side. Hama's lips spread in that matronly smile, a distinct contrast to the reputation of her inn. She had none of the grit that defined the Air Nomad innkeeper, none of the apparent savviness that Katara had learned to look for. "Go clean up and change," Jun commanded, "the third room on the first floor."
Katara obeyed, drawing her new clothes close to her body as she entered the back door of the inn, her nose wrinkling. It smelled too strongly of incense, as if trying to mask less than savory scents, to the point where it was overpowering. There was no one in the hall and each door was closed, leaving the numbers on display. Katara found the third and tried the door, finding it unlocked.
Within the room were two beds, small and with plain (clean!) sheets, and two nightstands. Upon one was a vase holding two vibrant white lilies. Off to the right was a bathroom, scrubbed clean and gleaming. Katara stepped inside, shedding her clothes along the way. A thin layer of sweat had plastered her shirt to her back and her hair had knotted at the nape of her neck. Katara went to the sink and turned on the faucet. As the water ran, she arched her fingers and watched it flow with her, congealing in a large bubble.
" I want to be a warrior! Like you, daddy!" She had been little, around six years old, standing in the middle of the hall with Sokka's pilfered boots that had been too large for her, her hair in a sloppy self-attempted warrior's wolf tail. Her father's men chuckled, ruffling her hair and showed her how to swing a club. They remarked with sadness that she was just like her mother. It was only weeks after did she begin her waterbending training in earnest, leaving the dagger and club to her brother in favor of a canteen.
Down to her bindings, Katara used her fingers to comb through her hair. She had considered shearing it off since it had grown unchecked over the months, her curls deepening into ringlets that clung in the humidity. She had lost the pudge of comfort and her high cheeks seemed more pronounced. The curves and blossoms of womanhood had finally come upon her. Men noticed her more, looking at her the same way that the firebenders had. The same way that Jet had. Katara touched her face, her lips, her collarbones. It had been a long while since she had taken the time to truly study herself, to familiarize herself with Katara the Avatar, Katara who sank ships, Katara who watched child thieves die in Terusan. She was still Katara of the Polar Bear Dogs, daughter of Hakoda of the clan of Nanook, but that identity had been nudged aside. Now she was more.
She bathed herself, sinking down into the tub until the water came up to her chin. Being submerged brought her comfort and a sense of peace that extended to her bones, the same way that a full moon riled her blood. The moon didn't look the same up here, not like it had in the South. It didn't seem so close, so tangible. It did not reflect on the trees like it did on the ice and tundra. She could feel it waxing in the sky, even though it was yet unseen.
After a while, Katara withdrew herself from the tub and whisked the excess water away from her body and hair. She dressed herself in one of the turquoise shifts, raising her eyes to the mirror.
"I know who you are, dear child." Hama stood in the doorway of the room, her hands tucked into her bell-like sleeves. Katara was unsure of how long the woman had been standing there, eyes averted. She stepped inside fully, the floor creaking under her weight even though she was just a wisp of a woman. "I might have left the South decades ago, but I know those eyes. You are your father's daughter to the core, blood and gait. A Polar Bear Dog." Upon closer inspection, her skin was blue-veined and thin, weathered. Katara stood taller than her, yet the woman's presence made her feel as though she should dip her knees and sink into the earth. “You must escape that woman."
Katara's eyes darted to the vacant doorway. "I don't have any other option. I don't have any money, and no one knows me here. I'm alone." Jun had paid for every expense, going beyond basic necessities for survival. Katara knew that it was all solely for the end goal of reaping the reward of hand delivering the Avatar, but it was still better blundering through the Earth Kingdoms alone and penniless. "We're going to the Eastern Air Temple."
Hama shook her head. "And there you will perish. Do you think the Air Nomads would protect you from the Fire Nation when they can't even protect themselves? The firebenders will swoop in and take you back to the Fire Nation. If they don’t beat you and rape you first. Their soldiers have little honor." She grasped Katara's hands, her grip surprisingly firm. "And do you think they will spare you because of your bloodline? They’ll treat you worse. Your best option, child, is to make your way back home while your brother is absent and assume your role as a Polar Bear Dog. The South needs you. As their chieftain."
The princess was unable to contain her gasp. "I can't, and besides-” There had never been a female chieftain. Warriors, sure, of that there had been plenty. Katara considered herself ill suited to be a chief, that was always Sokka's calling. And anyway, she couldn't be the chief and the Avatar. She couldn’t usurp her brother’s birthright, not even if she wanted to. "I can't."
Hama made urging circles with her thumb on Katara's palm, the red blood underneath trailing languidly. "Our tribe needs a leader to guide them while your brother is away, a chief who can shift the tide. A waterbender. One who knows all the water's secrets." At that, she snapped her wrist and hooked her elbow. The lilies across the room withered and turned black as she ripped water out of them, drawing it to her.
Katara's eyes widened. Hama smirked at her awe, letting the water run over her wrist. "The water has many secrets that she won't readily tell, princess. She has to be coaxed to whisper into a desperate ear, but when she does…" Hama tossed the liquid orb at Katara, whose reflexes immediately reached out to catch it. "Did you not know that there was more to waterbending than moving ice and standing water?"
She knew, but she had never witnessed the arts in person aside from using waterbending to heal. Avatar or not, water was her birth element and she wanted to learn all its forms. "How did you learn?"
"The same way we all do, princess. By listening. But," Hama beamed, "you must listen to the moon."
——
For once Jun didn’t seem particularly inclined to move on to the next place as quickly as possible. The woman was not exactly at peace (Katara didn’t think that the woman had ever been at peace in all the years of her life), but she did not have the skeptical, flighty glint in her eye that Katara was so accustomed to seeing. They moved freely throughout the town. Jun even disappeared for half a week to complete a minor job.
Katara could have seized the opportunity, but where would she go? She spent the day and most of the others in the stables, snuggling with Lusa. The leopard-caribou had become her kindred spirit, lost as they were in a foreign land under strange stars. Lusa felt as familiar as-
As Mula-
As Appa-
As Fang-
As Chaya-
As Toutega-
As Nujian-
They flashed through Katara’s mind's eye. A cat deer, a flying bison, a dragon, a giant fox, a tiger-bear, a badgermole, a fire dogbat, each one as familiar as the next.
Lusa’s eyes gleamed with an ancient intelligence, almost smiling at Katara as if to say: “ I’ve been waiting for you, old friend.”
I know you, I know you , Katara’s own heart rang out. How could she not? They had followed each other through the lifetimes. Different forms, but always the same soul.
The guests of Hama’s inn eyed her curiously. A Water Tribe girl curled up against the flank of an animal she had just met was a strange sight, but they left her in peace.
That night, Katara awoke to the hum of the moon in her veins, sending restless pangs down into her hands that itched to bend water. Jun was asleep in the other bed, snoring lightly after a successful bounty hunt. She had gotten tipsy for the first time since Katara had known her, and had vanished for a few hours with a man and a woman but Katara dared not think about what they were doing. The moon streamed in from the window, full and gleaming, the guiding beacon of every nyctophile. It was the mark of a full month since their arrival to Hama's inn; they would've left earlier but Nyla had struck ill of exhaustion.
She felt the distinctive tug at her chi , the invisible energy that wove through all humans. It called out to her, the tugging, drawing her out of her bed. Katara sat upright and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing. She cast a glance back at Jun, lying on her side with half of her face buried within the pillow, and crept towards the door. As she stepped out into the cool hallway, her bare feet protesting the chill of the floor, Katara wondered if she was truly awake. Her legs moved without thinking and she found herself standing on the porch of the inn, face turned towards the moon and the silver-haired woman that stood underneath it.
"Are you ready?" Hama asked.
Some part of Katara, the part that was not clouded by sleep, realized that it was not just the moon that summoned her. The compulsion to rise from her bed came from the old waterbender, as if she was the one who made the tides rise and fall. As if she was the one who had harnessed the moon's energy and spun it to her own control, and Katara realized that even if she wanted to leave (and her spirit did), she could not. Was this waterbending? Was this some kind of technique that her masters had never taught her?
She followed Hama through the woods at the back of the inn to a clearing enclosed by a thicket of trees on every side. There was the hum of a stream just out of sight.
"I don't understand," Katara began softly and she noticed that the grass encircling Hama had been sucked dry. "For what?"
Hama drew closer and Katara felt her blood stir. "To learn, princess. To become what our Tribe needs in these times." At some point she came close enough to hold Katara's hands within her own, her thumbs pressing down into the bones of her palms. "You're a powerful waterbender that can guide our Tribe, that can avenge your father."
Her people needed her while Sokka was gone. They needed her to protect them and love them and heal with them while she healed herself. The world didn't know her, didn't love her the way that the Southern Water Tribe did. They had gone on for decades without the Avatar, and suddenly the gods expected her to be the one to make things right. Right when her nation needed her the most. It would be a betrayal of her morals, of her culture, her very bloodline.
Katara lifted her face and absorbed the light of the moon before setting her gaze upon the waiting crone. "Teach me."
Hama smiled. "Water exists in all things, princess. It comes in ice and snow and rivers and cascades. It runs through the soil and all plant life," she gestured to the grass and Katara remembered the flower from the day of their arrival. "Water flows through us all." The veins in her hands puckered and turned dark blue, her eyes dilated. "When you spend many years in solitude, when the moon is your only friend and confidant, you learn to listen. She is a patient teacher once you learn her language and when you've mastered the practices she asks of you, she will give you a gift. It has the power to make men crumble and fall."
A chill rose up Katara's spine, cold fingers on each of her vertebrae. "And what would that be?"
They locked eyes and Katara felt that pull on her chi, on the fibers that held her together, that unfamiliar ache. Hama let out a breath. " Bloodbending."
Just the name of it felt inherently wrong. Katara took a step back. "No, no, no," she whispered, "that's not right." To snatch someone's autonomy away from them and bend their limbs like a puppet...her stomach churned at the thought. It seemed worse than violation. That's not what waterbending was. "That's wrong."
"Perhaps in a softer moral sense," Hama replied dismissively. "In dark times, our leaders were not soft palmed. Our land is too unforgiving for that. This is not a new art. Centuries ago, during times of war, members of your own bloodline cowed their enemies. Despite how you feel about it, child, it lies within you. They did whatever was necessary to hold the Tribe together, and as a princess of the Tribe and descendant of Nanook,you must do the same." She stretched out her arms, blue veins rolling underneath her paper thin skin, illuminated hauntingly by the moon. Her fingers hooked into claws, knuckles whitened.
Katara felt her blood seize and her muscles strain against the sudden pull. Tears sprang into her eyes. A sense of profound violation washed over her and she found that her mouth would not form the shape to scream.
And just as quickly, Hama released her. "You will learn," growled the crone, "or I will force you. Either way, child, you will save our nation. Now stand."
The Water Tribe princess crumbled, drinking in the air. She gripped the grass, pulling every sap of moisture from its roots, forming it into a weapon that she was familiar with. Rising quickly, Katara squared her feet and wheeled her arms to form a water whip. "I will save our tribe, but I won't do that!" She lashed out at Hama, whose ancient reflexes still recalled what it meant to do battle. The crone dodged and Katara retracted her whip, sending it out again.
Hama snarled, drawing her own water source. She dodged Katara's assault in a textbook evasion, using the water as a thin shield as she moved out of the way. With her other hand, she drew up a spear of water that wrapped around Katara's ankles, throwing her off balance.
Katara dropped to the ground and rolled, snapping her wrists to create daggers of ice. With open palms she lashed down. Her opponent, wizened by time and age, deconstructed them and formed the ice into liquid once more. Through the raining droplets she closed her hands into fists.
Katara's limbs locked and she convulsed on the ground, Hama's will bearing down on her. She knelt before the crone, unable to lift her head beyond staring at the woman's feet. Hama forced her down further, bent at the waist as if the exertion was almost too much for her as well. Down , her chi commanded, down.
Powerless.
This was what the Water Tribe would be if she did not step in to fight the Phoenix King.
This was what the world would be if she did not set things right.
"Now will you learn?" Hama asked.
Katara tried to shake her head but Hama stopped her. "No," she answered through a mouth that would not open. She clenched and ground her feet as something in her burst and split wide open. "I. Said. No!"
The world went white.
She was no longer Katara.
The earth shuddered and turned white hot as she rose in a torrent of water and fast moving air, eyes aglow with all the power of the moon and that which the gods had stored within her, above Hama and above all the buildings of the town. The Avatar hovered over the bloodbender, her fury now that of countless others. She was Katara and she said no. She was the airbender Aang and she said no. She was Roku and Kyoshi and Kuruk and Yangchen and she said no. She was the Avatar and she said no.
Somewhere else, in all the corners of the world, the beacons that announced the awakening of the Avatar from dormancy vibrantly came to life and chimed all at once. They had done so months before, after a fiasco in Terusan in Banka-Kadi, yet now they were undeniably loud and clear.
The Avatar was awake and alive, and she was angry.
Hama quaked with fear, her neck thrown back. Katara glowered down at her, her arms methodically moving to gather water and loose stone. Below, people began to stir at the commotion. It meant no difference to her.
" I should kill you," she bellowed in a thousand different voices. Kyoshi wanted to. Kyoshi was not one for mercy. Aang was the one who disagreed. Yangchen was even more ruthless. Hama gazed up at her. It would be easy. It would be just. And the Avatar was the hand of justice. Her earthly arm came down and the water followed suit, swallowing up the crone in a chrysalis of ice. She sealed it with a squeeze of her fist. A spear of ice and stone shrapnel was aimed at Hama’s heart.
Aang, the one who came before her, the pacifist, the one who did nothing protested. Spare her spare her pleaded the nomad. Be better than all the rest.
She used an art as a monstrosity, Kuruk argued, let bloodbending die with the crone. No matter that she had not been the first.
That's not who you are, Katara. Who we are. Aang countered.
It was not. It was not.
Katara opened her fingers and the bloodbender's confinement split, leaving only her limbs imprisoned. She was better than that. Her father had made her better than that.
At once, her energy and the presence of all the others left her. Her vision returned and immediately tunneled as she began to plummet back towards the earth, exhaustion overwhelming her young bones. Her mind became a blank slate; even the self-preservation of the Avatar state had left her.
Towards the earth she fell.
Jun was waiting for her ( always at the right moment to catch the Avatar, just in time, ready like always) , arms outstretched to break her fall. She buckled under the girl's weight and the burden of the packs on her shoulders, which she had yet to attach to Nyla's saddle. The shirshu stood anxiously some distances away, tied to an agitated young leopard-caribou who perhaps in good time would make a half decent steed for the Avatar. "Oh for spirits' sake, Blue Eyes," She grumbled as she half-walked half dragged the young Avatar over to Nyla hurriedly, dumping her unceremoniously into the saddle.
Katara found that the world had been painted over in gray, like an airbender's eyes. It began to move as Nyla took off, the leopard caribou keeping pace as though she had accepted her fate. "Did I...should I have…?"
"No," Jun responded. "I'm sure there are Avatars in the past that would've wiped the floor with her, but you're not them." Her voice was surprisingly gentle. "You're Katara."
"The Avatar," whispered she and Jun did not reply.
They left the town behind them and its surrounding territory, diverging away from the river. Through the hours that they plodded on, the land shifted into harder, rockier soil. Morning arose to meet them through the sparse trees, flooding the area in shimmering gray, dampness clinging to Katara's skin and hair. She knew now that she could whisk it away, make it into a weapon if she wanted, make humans into weapons if she wanted but yet…
Lusa, the leopard-caribou, pressed her wide head against Katara's palm. She, too, was of the South. She had accepted Katara, for whatever that was worth, and the princess accepted her in turn.
Katara lifted her face to the sky, eyes half-lidded. The Eastern Air Temple was somewhere in the distance, attainable but not yet within reach. Her mind drifted to the dreams of her parents. She was Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, daughter of Hakoda of the Clan of Nanook, and the Avatar, and she would serve ( save?) the world.
Chapter 39: Like Kings, Like Candles
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
Brothels, Lu-Ten had learned, were like universities. He had never attended a university, of course, but he knew that they were places where knowledge was shared and kept and acquired and updated. Such was the House of Madame Sayuko, whose girls (she called them mockingrobins), who knew of many things from their meetings with men with money. Men with money, Lu-Ten knew, tended to be men of importance. In the four weeks that Sayuko had been teaching him the delicate art of court and of the world he had been taken away from, he learned many things.
His uncle, Ozai, had crowned himself the Phoenix King. He had two children, a son and a daughter. Almost a full year before, he had sent an envoy to the Southern Water Tribe. The chief of the Tribe was slain and his own children scattered to the winds. The girl was lost, presumed dead. The boy was in the eastern half of the continent. Their guest, the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe, now resided in the Phoenix King's court as a prisoner.
Lu-Ten wondered, when the time came, what he would do with her. Sayuko suggested diplomacy, that violence could not beget peace. The girl was a victim of her circumstances. He would have to reconcile with her father the Chief of the North Pole. Tenoch said that they would turn that corner when they came upon it and Lu-Ten agreed.
The early mornings were the quietest times of day at Sayuko’s establishment. Most of the mockingrobins were late sleepers, which Lu-Ten could not fault them for. While there were other lantern lit manors of pleasure in Hijira, Sayuko’s was by far the most renowned. Her girls were worth their weight in gold. Lallo had tried his luck with one, and Lu-Ten had babbled nonsensically in bewilderment when he caught the girl creeping from his room.
Yaretzi stood before him, her hands shaking as she painstakingly poured him a cup of tea the way that Sayuko had taught her. Bottom handed, warming it just so with her bending, elbows pointed and back straight. Lu-Ten found the dichotomy of the sight before him quite striking. Yaretzi still wore her normal garb, the skirt and sandals that their women wore, yet her actions were those of a noblewoman. Or perhaps just a Fire Nation woman. Lu-Ten was still uncertain of the distinction. "Tenoch said we are leaving in the next week, or two." She murmured, her face unreadable. She had hardly been affectionate to him since their arrival, having found herself picking up the delicate arts of femininity from the mockingrobins. She carried herself with a different type of confidence. "To Arakem."
Arakem was the desert kingdom, though Lu-Ten's lessons had told him that this was bit of a misnomer. Only half of Arakem was swathed in sand while the other half was prime land for crops like coffee, a hot beverage that he had sampled at Sayuko's.
Once she had finished filling his cup, Yaretzi set the pot down and immediately began to scratch the growing hair on the sides of her head. Sayuko had recommended that she grew it out to appear more stately, though Lu-Ten could not picture his wife being anything other than Yaretzi . Lu-Ten took a sip of the tea, wincing a bit at the bitter aftertaste. It had steeped too long, had acquired too much flavor.
One of Sayuko's mockingrobins swept into the main room in which they sat, hurried sticking her earrings into place. She glanced offhandedly at Yaretzi before settling her gaze on Lu-Ten, offering him a coy smile. "It is a lovely morning, yes?"
"Oh yes," Yaretzi hissed between her teeth, planting her hands firmly on Lu-Ten's shoulders. "It is rather lovely." He could feel the jealous heat running through her, the way her fingers viciously massaged his muscles. She knelt and pressed her cheek against his.
Lu-Ten stifled his laughter. Yaretzi, who threw tantrums when reality did not suit her, was jealous. He had never noticed it before- their age difference had left him blind for many years. While he wandered off to have sloppy and hurried trysts with the girls his age, Yaretzi had pined after him with girlish, innocence and viridity, bringing him flowers and pretty stones, dragging him to practice katas or play with dolls. By the time she was eleven, Lu-Ten had lost interest in entertaining her and it was only now that he realized her old tendency to kick the girls he brought to Tuwa's home was out of spite. He knew that she had loved him, but he had never noticed the way her features would crease in barely concealed rage.
The mockingrobin appeared unruffled, dancing out of the room as quickly as she had come. Courtesans endured sour looks nearly every day they breathed. Lu-Ten pushed himself away from the table and away from Yaretzi. His bones warmed within him, a vibration rising along his skin. He raised his head and Yaretzi met his gaze, assuring him that she too felt the odd sensation. It was a feeling that he had not felt since they departed the valley, when the young dragon had landed before them.
He had been following them. Lu-Ten knew it in his mind's eye, had felt it in his dreams. He had never ventured out of the jungle of his birth, and the world outside was foreign and foul smelling. But he must find the boy, Lu-Ten’s mind told him. He had flown tirelessly, and at last he was coming upon the city of the humans not like his own, they smelled different, looked different, not his, not his, not-
The young dragon.
Lu-Ten heard the roar before anything else, distant at first, and then louder. Closer. He sprang to his feet, rushing towards the exit of the House. Yaretzi scrambled after him, joined by Madame Sayuko who had been in the front tea room. She was accompanied by Lallo, Tenoch, and Dejen. Their eyes were like disks as they all poured out onto the House's verandah.
The sky was shadowed by great red wings covering the sky. Lu-Ten craned his neck, taking in the majestic sight of the blood-scaled dragon with the sunset colored mane. Its gaping maws were wide open, unleashing another roar that shook the windows. Sayuko's mockingrobins shied away back into the house while the Sun Warriors stepped forward.
"It looks like you've got a puppy dog, brother." Lallo whistled as the dragon landed heavily, swinging his head left and then right. He growled and lashed his tail with restraint, beady eyes searching.
"Lu-Ten," Tenoch said quietly, "go to him."
Fear had paralyzed him. Lu-Ten stared at the dragon, wondering just how it had managed to find them in Hijira. At Tenoch's insistence, the prince stepped off of the veranda and moved in the direction of the firebending master. Perhaps the dragon would devour him and everything would be for naught. He outstretched his hand, stirring to life a ball of fire. As he approached, the dragon lowered his head and keened in his throat.
"Hello again," Lu-Ten greeted. "It is I." It came out much flatter than he intended and he kicked himself for sounding so foolish. The dragon blinked, breathing out a tendril of smoke and tilting its head to study him. The boy, he smells like them but he is the boy . "Did you come for me?"
Those primitive eyes locked into his own and Lu-Ten fell into them, becoming witness to a world that occurred decades before his own birth. He saw men clad in red and men drowning in green and yellow and blue, colliding with each other and falling away as if repelled. He saw a world that was crumbling piece by piece, powerless to stop it. Unable to tear his eyes away, Lu-Ten found himself within touch of the magnificent beast. He breathed in the heat of him, the sheer power that came out of his pores.
The dragon bared his teeth and Lu-Ten did the same, refusing to look away as they mirrored each other. In that moment he knew that the dragon had claimed him and had offered itself to be his as well, just as the flying serpent had shared his mind. The dragon was his. Perhaps not his to own. Lu-Ten knew there was no way to own or control something so immense, so powerful. A mortal could never comprehend. Lu-Ten knew he could never truly understand, he could only accept the fact that this was his destiny, that this was the path that the gods had laid upon him and he had no choice but to follow it.
"Izon," he christened him. "You've come for me, Izon?"
Izon, the dragon, lowered his serpentine body to the ground. Lu-Ten understood that to touch him would only end in pain, yet still he was drawn to those hypnotizing scales. Izon exhaled and beat his wings, stirring the dust along the road. The citizens of Hijira were only a dim noise in the background, their tears and screams muted. Behind him, Lu-Ten could hear Yaretzi sobbing. A small smile spread across his lips. "If you accept me, then you accept my queen as well. Yaretzi, come here."
His wife came to him, trembling. The dragon bore down on them and pressed his belly to the ground, sweeping his tail around them. Yaretzi gasped and laid her hands on the dragon's side, throwing her leg over his spine. Lu-Ten, acting as if his mind had done this before, did the same. He took a handful of Izon's ruff, burying his fingers into the flowing gold. Izon roared and the glass of the buildings nearby shattered. He beat his wings once, twice, and then he was in the air. Lu-Ten jolted and Yaretzi's nervous hands gripped him from behind.
Tenoch and the others were watching them from below. Lu-Ten was suddenly struck with a feeling of dominance, of a thirst for seeing just what destruction this beast could set forth. His mind traveled to an image of a city burning to ashes below him, of Izon swooping through the sky with death on his tongue. The idea made him drunk. Just imagine. He would be unstoppable. A god, even, like Tenochizun. Like Agni. His uncle would be reduced to nothing and he, Lu-Ten, could reign the world entire. Who would stop him? Who could?
A sense of shame washed over him. How dare he imagine such a thing, of becoming the very monster that forced him into this fate? He was fortunate and grateful that no one was able to see his face from this height, not even Yaretzi. If they knew…if they suspected, then they would destroy him.
Izon dove back to the earth, folding his wings against his body and enveloping them. Lu-Ten closed his eyes as they returned to solid ground. Knees uneasy, he dismounted from the beast while Yaretzi did the same. She stumbled and fell onto her rear, eyes glazed over. In his stupor, Lu-Ten only half registered her rising to her feet. Izon swung his head around and took flight once more, soaring away from them. Disappointment stabbed Lu-Ten in the chest, his authority flying away from him with each passing wing beat. He knew he would return, but dragons were no man’s pet.
"The gods are on your side," Tenoch said. "That dragon accepted you- and Yaretzi. He will come if you call him." He turned to Sayuko. "You and your birds will not sing of this to the wrong people, I hope."
The madame shook her head incredulously. "I serve the Order of the White Lotus, and they have chosen to assist this young man back to his stolen throne. If a dragon has laid its stone with him, then I would be a fool to not do the same. As for the rest of Hijira…I cannot make that promise.” She cleared her throat. "But dragons do not fund wars. They do not field armies or gain kingdoms as allies. You will still have to go to Arakem. Sheer might will not topple a regime if you have no one to guard your back. If no one will legitimize you."
It was as if she had read his mind. Why waste time playing at politics when he could scorch the earth and raze his uncle's palace to the ground? Why play at being kind when he could roll through them all?
Because then you are no different from him.
"Sayuko speaks with truth," Dejen chimed in. "Our purpose goes beyond putting you on the Fire Nation's throne. We exist first to restore and maintain balance to the nations of the world." He eyed Lu-Ten darkly and he wondered what they all saw in him, if they had any notion of the hunger he had just felt. "We leave within the next week to my homeland, where we will first come upon the desert city of Al-Imbatu. Then we will meet the queen."
The older men and the madame returned into the House, leaving Lu-Ten with Yaretzi and Lallo. Lallo stared at them in awe, at his blood sister and the brother he had been raised beside. "This is real," he said. "You're really going to be the Fire Lord and Yaretzi..." For a moment his eyes became glossy with tears. "There will be a dynasty of Sun Warriors and your sigil will be the dragon."
Lu-Ten reached out, clasped his brother's arm. "Don't exclude yourself. You'll be my right hand, Lallo, like you've been for the last twenty years." He offered a smile, his troubles evaporating.
Yaretzi had remained wordless through it all, at last returning to the entrance of Sayuko's House. She left them there and Lu-Ten watched her go, tried to imagine loving her as his tanned skin, brown eyed queen and found that he could not.
That evening, Sayuko’s mockingrobins were crowded in the madame’s garden, tripping over themselves to take a glimpse at a supposedly famous fortune-teller. She passed through Hijira once a year on her pilgrimage back to the exotic tribes of Si-Wong where she had been born. Many men had emptied their purses at the opportunity for her to read their fortunes and warm their beds. Yaretzi was among the mockingrobins, her eyes wide with wonder. From where Lu-Ten stood at the back of the garden, he found it easy to see why. Lady Kahina of the Tribe of the Sloping Sand was a captivating woman, even from a distance. She was exceptionally tall, of equal height with Lu-Ten if he were to judge, and her once black hair was beginning to streak with white and gray.
Lady Kahina had deep umber skin, weathered by age and sand, and a long angular face with sharp cheekbones. Her lips were full and dark, and her large eyes were a curious shade between hazel and gray. The crown of her head was covered by a white and red scarf. The mockingrobins chattered about, offering their palms to the woman.
Sayuko pushed her girls aside, ushering them back into the house. “My apologies, dear friend. They all forget whatever decorum I’ve taught them when you’re in town.” She smiled as she took the woman’s hand.
“Another one of your…Pai Sho friends?” Lu-Ten whispered to Dejen.
To his surprise, the Arakemeti frowned as he shook his head. “That one, no. Though we have been known to cross paths. Lady Kahina has never been a lady who enjoys board games.”
The woman had sat on a bench, taking the hands of the mockingrobins that crowded her like children one by one until each one had heard her whispers. Lu-Ten could see her thumb working over the creases in their hands, tracing the lines. Fortune telling was not an uncommon thing to see amongst the Sun Warriors. Many crones and even warriors gazed into the flames or sprinkled blood over feathers and dragon scales to read the future, beyond what the augers amongst the elders predicted. Lu-Ten had never felt compelled to participate, half out of the fear that he would hear something unsettling.
Yaretzi surged forward at last once the mockingrobins had returned inside, presenting her open hand eagerly. Lu-Ten pressed closer, standing off to the side with Lallo. His wife knelt before Lady Kahina. The soothsayer reached out and cupped Yaretzi’s face with one of her hands, rubbing her chin with her thumb. Her weathered dark brown face creased even further, her eyes twinkling. “Oh dear child,” she said, “you’ve known who you are from the moment you were born, have you not? What is it you wish to know?”
The priestess paused. She, too, knew how to read the magic of the stars and the earth and the flames. Yaretzi seemed almost bashful, her eyes casting furtive glances around the garden before returning to Lady Kahina. “Will we make it home? To the Fire Nation?”
Lady Kahina was silent. Her voice was unwavering as she answered. “Your feet will know Fire Nation soil, and yes you will rest there.” She patted Yaretzi’s cheek with maternal affection, helping her rise. The seer turned to Lu-Ten expectantly. “Come.”
Lu-Ten hesitated. Lallo nudged him. The Sun Warrior stopped in front of the older woman, sinking to his knees. He put his hand in her lap, finding her thin fingers colder than expected. She bore into him. Lu-Ten cleared his throat. “Will I take the throne? Will I have children? Will I…will I be a welcomed Fire Lord?”
A dark, marcid, emotion came across her face. Her smile had fallen. Lu-Ten stiffened as her nails dug into her palms and she pulled him closer. “Kings are like candles, my love. One winks out and another sparks to life. Your joy will give birth to grief, and your happiness will turn to sorrow until you taste nothing but ashes in your mouth. The skies will be black with smoke. Only then will you ascend the throne and not a day before. Your reign will be long. You will be both hated and loved. Your son shall be the morning star.” She settled back onto the bench. “There are two paths your life will take, one of which will see you die before you finish twenty-five years of living. You tread on a thin thread, Prince Lu-Ten.”
Horror filled his belly. This is why I don’t go to palm readers, he thought sourly. He moved away from Lady Kahina, willing his hands to stop shaking. Part of it was from anger at the woman for speaking illness into his life, the other was out of fear that her prophecies rang true. You will die before you finish twenty-five years of living. He had entered his twenty-fourth year not long ago.
The color had been snapped from Lady Kahina’s countenance, as if she had also been taken aback by what she had seen. After a heartbeat, she gathered herself. “Pray the gods walk with you,” she said as she rose to her feet. “The path will be dark and uncertain.”
——-
The Valley of the Sun Warriors had seen heat, but their summers were accompanied by sheets of rain that brought cool relief. The Earth Kingdom of Arakem, however, was dry and stifling. Lu-Ten wiped his brow once more, his shirt already soaked through for the third time that day. After leaving Hijira, they had crossed over into the belly of Arakem in the dry arid half that housed the kingdom’s capital. The heat was relentless.
It was only mid-morning.
The only one unaffected was Dejen, his black skin glistening but not quite sweaty. He walked ahead of them along the sand encrusted road leading into Al-Imbatu, the second largest city of Arakem. Already the city had begun to rise from the sand about them, first as ragged shanties and later as smooth tan structures. Dejen claimed that they were not yet within the city proper, that Arakemeti cities were sprawling beings in their own right that were built upon grids and parallels.
Yaretzi and Tenoch both rode upon double-humped sandcrawlers, an animal with some cross between a horse and camel. Yaretzi sprawled over the back of her mount, sweating profusely. Lallo cast glances of pity back at his sister, passing to her the canteen of sweet melon juice that Dejen had bought from a roadside merchant. Their departure from Hijira had been three weeks before and already Lu-Ten missed the comfortable temperature of the House of Sayuko.
Every so often Lu-Ten looked towards the clouds in hopes of catching sight of Izon. He had only seen the dragon twice, flying far behind them, only a dark dot against the brilliant blue sky.
Arakemeti people, of the number that he had seen so far, were dark. Some were black like Dejen while others were few shades lighter. Their hair tended to curl in upon itself and their noses were pinched towards the end. The women often wore their hair covered by colorful veils and their hands were hennaed. "All Arakemeti women cover their hair when they come of age," explained Dejen, "with the exception of the royalty. The queen's name is Hodan," he went on, "though you will not call her that until she gives you permission to do such." He looked back at Lu-Ten. "You will speak to her the same way you would speak to a king."
Lu-Ten did not know how to speak to a king.
Al-Imbatu came from the sand, its pale buildings square and squat. The tallest was only three floors high and Lu-Ten saw that the windows had been carved tall and narrow. He took note of the lines of clothes dangling between the buildings, mostly white and green, and of the numerous merchant stands lining the wide streets.
The second thing he noticed was the sheer noise. He had not imagined large cities to be so loud with so many people and so many animals squeezed into limited space. The city of his childhood was spread out, touching the edge of the jungle, where there was an abundance of open air. He grabbed onto the reins of Yaretzi's sandcrawler as the throng of people thickened, the smell of human skin permeating his nostrils.
Dejen strode forward confidently, shoving aside those who came too close. "Welcome to my homeland." He grinned back at the younger three. "We are going to the palace of the queen's brother, who will keep us until we are ready to go on. He is also the governor of Al-Imbatu." He led them down a corner and it was only then that Lu-Ten noticed the burly men dressed in olive green, carrying long spears. They were earthbenders, the Sun Warrior knew, possibly the queen's men.
"Have you been here before, Tenoch?" Lallo inquired.
"Many times," the elder Sun Warrior responded. "I consider myself as Arakemeti as my brother Dejen."
He was truly well-traveled, Lu-Ten realized. It made sense as to why he nor the others had no recollection of Tenoch outside of fuzzy imaginings. He had brought Lu-Ten to Tuwa, his lover, and she had raised him alongside their own children while Tenoch traversed the kingdoms in the name of the Order of the White Lotus. Only Yaretzi, Lallo, and Moema were his, however, along with the brother who would've been nineteen. The younger ones belonged to some nameless man, with whom Tuwa disappeared and later came back round in the belly. What was she doing now, with almost half of her brood gone?
They passed a merchant's stand where a young boy sold head garments to protect from the heat. His eyes, green like the crowns of the jungle, locked onto Lu-Ten. His irises were in stark contrast to his skin, which was just little lighter than Dejen's. He was perhaps twelve, the same age as Lallo's little brother. Perhaps in another life they would have been friends. The Arakemeti earthbender and the Sun Warrior firebender, like Dejen and Tenoch, a new generation of global unifiers.
Dejen rounded a corner, which opened up into a tree lined avenue. Before them was a palatial building that was wider than it was tall, so ornate that it could have only been assembled by the cautious work of trained earthbenders. From the pinnacles of the palace hung the standards of the lordship of Arakem, its symbol as a proud nosed hyeagle. The hyeagle, a broad bodied and spotted canine with the wicked talons and beak of a raptor, glared down at them. The windows of the palace were laid with sparkling green glass which caught the light and twinkled against the drab tan of the rest of the city.
"Welcome to the governor's mansion," Tenoch announced.
Guarding the entrance of the governor's abode were twenty earthbenders, all wearing the queen's hyeagle on their chest. They stiffened as Dejen and the others approached, ordering for Yaretzi and Tenoch to dismount. One sour-faced bender grabbed a hold of the reins, pulling the animals off to the side. Yet another set himself before the group, the earth rattling at his command.
"For why do you come, brother?" He asked of Dejen, his eyes surveying the rest. "Who are these people who encroach upon the governor's royal ground?"
"I have brought them to speak first with the governor, the queen's brother. These are important political allies for our nation who first request audience and refuge within our kingdom." Dejen glanced back at the Sun Warriors. "I have brought the rightful ruler of the Fire Nation."
Several of the earthbenders scoffed. "He has the eyes and skin, brother, but that is not the Phoenix King," harassed one of the younger ones. "That is no rightful ruler."
Dejen bristled. "That is not for you to decide. Now allow me into the house of my kin before my grand-niece hears of this from my lips." He pressed forward and the guards relented with looks of shock and embarrassment.
Earth groaned as one of the benders forced the stone gates guarding the entrance of the governor's mansion open. They stepped inside of the palace and Lu-Ten felt as though he had entered a geode. For all the worth of its austere exterior, the mansion's welcoming corridor gleamed with green floors inlaid with gold and selenite. From the ceiling came the flash of a skylight, from which three streams of sunshine shone down onto the intricate floors. The walls themselves had been hand painted with hyeagles throwing themselves into war alongside spear-wielders. Lu-Ten found himself speechless. The rest of the palace was closed off by a door that could only be opened by earthbenders.
From seemingly nowhere came a group of men and veiled women. The tallest of the men nearly bent in half with his bow to Dejen while his respect to the others was significantly muted. "Lord Dejen," he stammered, "our sentries had long since been aware of your return, yet the trainees are regrettably forgetful with matters like this. Please forgive the harassment of our new guardsmen."
Even still, as he spoke, one of the other men seized hold of Yaretzi's bow and their spears, disappearing without a word. Lu-Ten laid a hand on his blades when the guard tried to remove it, flashing him a warning look. “I come in peace,” he said, “but I will not let you have these.”
Dejen watched the exchange with passive eyes. The Arakemeti waved his hand. "Tell my grand-nephew that I have come with the king of the Fire Nation."
"Grand-nephew...grand-niece," mused Lallo, "does that mean...?"
"That Dejen is part of the royal line of Arakem, yes," concluded Tenoch. "To my understanding, he still has royal status even though his mother was from the seraglio." At the confusion of the younger generation, he sighed. "Some rulers take more than one wife or partner. The first wife’s children are typically the heirs, even though many civil wars have been fought over these matters. The custom is generally looked down upon for Fire Nation royalty."
One of the women offered them trays of blessedly cold water and slices of desert fruit, which Yaretzi took with relish. The head manager of the governor's household shook his head upon sight of Lu-Ten's wife. "You know, Lord Dejen, that the governor your nephew will not attend an audience with an immodestly dressed woman. She will have to don the clothes of the Arakemeti women. Is she of high birth?"
Dejen smiled apologetically. "She is the future queen of the Fire Nation." As another woman came forward, he gave a sympathetic push to the brown eyed girl. "Go and change into something more suitable, little one."
Yaretzi had the grace to remain without offense. She went with the woman down another glittering hall while Lu-Ten and the men waited.
Their attendant clapped his hands together. "And how do you fare under the sun of Arakem?"
"We're firebenders," drawled Lallo, "and this is almost too much."
The man nodded. "This season is indeed unusually hot. It is partly due to our recent lack of rain which comes from the direction of Banka-Kadi." He shrugged. "We all must suffer. All seasons pass.”
Lu-Ten took another long sip of the water as he finally heard the returning slap of sandals against the gemstone floor. First came the Arakemeti woman, hands clasped in front of her with beaming pride. Lu-Ten caught sight of his wife, hardly recognizable without her traditional red clothing and bow. Yaretzi stepped forward nervously. They had adorned her in Arakemeti white and green. The sheath, cut from lightweight material, hugged the curve of her hips and the expanse across her chest quite nicely. Her dress stopped at her ankles, where her hennaed toes poked from leather bound sandals. Her hair was covered by a sheer light green veil.
Her eyes searched desperately for his approval and Lu-Ten offered her a genial nod. She rejoined his side. The palace manager cleared his throat. "Follow me," he ordered, and the servants closed in around them as an earthbender pushed the interior doors. He led them further into the governor's mansion where Lu-Ten heard the sultry whine of a wooden lute coming from within a vast chamber. Their way was lit by skylights which came to an end in front of another heavy lacquered door.
The door was pulled open, revealing a man on a dais with seven exquisite women sprawled over his lap. He himself was tall and large, as broad as two average men and a full black beard hung on his face. His opulence rolled off of him in waves, from the fine emerald green silk pants to the copper sandals on his pedicured feet. From his mouth hung a glass pipe, a foul smoke drifting from it.
"Nephew mine," Dejen admonished, "now you know neither your older sister nor your father would approve if they were to be witness or take word of this."
The man, who upon further inspection could only be in his late twenties, scowled as he pulled the pipe out of his mouth and passed it to one of the women in his lap. "Uncle Dejen!" He exclaimed. "You've returned."
"And not a second too late," Dejen grumbled but shrugged his shoulders. "Rise, nephew, and greet your guests."
"I will not," the governor shook his head. "You are welcome here whenever you wish, Uncle, but keep your old Pai Sho players with you. I've no interest." He grazed over Yaretzi with his eyes. "You've brought a gift?"
Had Dejen been lighter, his skin would already have been red with anger. "Kofi." He snapped and stomped up to his grand-nephew, the women between them scattering like mice. "Take the hood off of your eyes and look upon the man in your presence. A man of your station should have shame to disrespect a king in such a way."
Kofi, the governor, rolled his eyes. "I see no king."
"Lu-Ten." Dejen made a come hither motion. Lu-Ten complied and the Arakemeti put a hand on his shoulder. "This man is the heir to the empire that holds the world between forefinger and thumb. He is the rightful ruler of the Fire Nation.”
"And why did you bring him here and not to Hodan , my illustrious sister?" Kofi wrinkled his nose, analyzing Lu-Ten with general disinterest.
"Because," Lu-Ten intercepted the conversation, "the Phoenix King is my uncle. And he stole my birthright when he slayed my father. I come from a society known as the Sun People. It just so happens that the way to your sister's capitol comes through Al-Imbatu. I need the help of Arakem to reclaim my title."
Kofi met his gaze. "Oh," he responded at last, "You're one of those ." He stood and his women stood with him. "Many men chase thrones while others chase the dragon," he reclaimed his pipe. "I shall advise you now that Hodan my sister will be a difficult coin to flip. Were you not a friend of my uncle, a beggar king like you would have been turned away or left to wither in the desert." His stare, the lecherous eyes of a man who'd been denied nothing, lingered once more on Yaretzi. "Is this a gift for bribery or of custom? A firebender would be a worthy addition.”
"Neither." Lu-Ten replied through gritted teeth. "My wife."
Kofi appeared neither apologetic nor concerned. One of his women laid a gentle hand on his sleeve, sizing up Yaretzi like two tigresses would when one encroached upon the other's territory. Her dark eyes, almost black, gleamed. "Have you eaten at all? A proper meal?"
"No importance," Kofi waved his hand. "My uncle deserves the finest hospitality when he graces this house, and his guests will receive the same. Nsia and Ejama will see to it that you are all settled in luxury while a lunch and dinner is prepared." He smiled at last at Lu-Ten. "Enjoy."
Two of the women broke away from Kofi, who had to be Ejama and Nsia though Lu-Ten was not sure which was which. One of them placed her thin bare arms across Lu-Ten's shoulders and he saw Yaretzi’s eyes come ablaze. "You must come from a very far place," said she, "and you must be very tired." She was the smaller of the two, though she was still almost as tall as Lu-Ten, her dark brown eyes sparkling as she massaged his shoulders.
Yaretzi brushed the woman’s hand away. She said nothing, her eyes ablaze and the Arakemeti woman smirked.
Ejama and Nsia led them down a split corridor in which doors lined both sides. The taller of the two gathered Dejen and Tenoch and Lallo, escorting them to their guest rooms. The other, who seemed to take pleasure in angering Yaretzi, drew him and his wife towards another room.
She opened the door, revealing an antechamber containing only a glass table, and a bedroom. A massive plush bed had been arranged in the middle, covered only by satin sheets to ease the overwhelming heat of Al-Imbatu. To the right of the bed was the entrance to a bathroom and when Lu-Ten turned slightly, he caught glimpse of a mirror reflecting back at him.
“You can leave.” Yaretzi ground out, slamming the door on the woman’s heels as she made her exit. She turned to Lu-Ten and he reached out to lay a calming hand on her shoulder. “I need a bath.”
Lu-Ten grinned wolfishly and his wife swatted at him with mock-outrage. He gripped her hips and Yaretzi danced away from him, her own smile bright with amusement. He sat as she entered the bathing room, listening to the sound of the water pouring and the tendrils of steam that crept from under the door. His own thoughts consumed him. He had managed to evade the creeping darkness of Lady Kahina’s words, throwing himself into every endeavor or effort to keep the prophecy out of his mind. He had avoided stillness out of fear that her words would ring true.
He could feel Izon. The dragon remained just outside of the city, hunting stray koala sheep that wandered too far from their enclosures, and terrifying the Arakemeti citizens that saw the red doom flying over their homes. Dragons were a fairly routine sight to him, and it wasn’t until they reached Hijira that he had realized the rest of the world had never seen them. Some questioned if they even still existed. For centuries and generations, the dragon had been the symbol of their house. His tea lessons with Sayuko and Tenoch had taught him that his great grandfather Sozin had been a dragonrider. It was in their blood.
Yaretzi emerged from the bathing room, her wet hair piled atop her head. Lu-Ten took his own turn, basking in the sensation of cold water after days and weeks of being coated in sweat. He dressed in the lightweight clothing of the Arakemeti style, smoothed his hair in a topknot and turned to his wife. “How do I look?”
The temple attendant’s eyes gleamed. “Like royalty,” she giggled and grinned.
——-
Arakemeti court was refined and structured much like their neatly organized streets. Kofi, the governor and Prince of Arakem, sat high on a dais with his favored veiled concubines. Dejen whispered that he had a wife who had made herself scarce over the years, preferring to live in the Queen’s palace. In the three weeks that they had spent under Kofi’s hospitality, Lu-Ten could understand why. The man spent more time in his pleasure gardens and training yard than he did in the audience chamber. Dejen had assumed the role of administrator, allowing Lu-Ten to shadow him. His duties would be different as Fire Lord, but the concept was much of the same. The Ministries, Councils, and military would all answer to him. He would be the final authority on all things. Dejen advised him to choose his advisors wisely.
Every day from morning until noon, petitioners of all classes were allowed into the audience chamber. Directly after, the governor of Al-Imbatu convened with his Cabinet before going about whatever other duties the day might dictate. Lu-Ten finished every night with a headache and debated if he truly wanted to spend the rest of his life listening to droning graybeards day in and day out.
Yaretzi and Lallo were seldom seen. His wife had been pulled into the fold of noblewomen, a copper skinned firebender amongst dark skinned earthbenders. Lallo had found a niche in the armory.
On the twenty-second day, Kofi joined them for dinner. He was accompanied by his favored women, Nsia and Ejama, and a third woman that Lu-Ten did not recognize. Dejen and Tenoch were away, somewhere in the belly of Al-Imbatu, no doubt playing with their Pai Sho tiles. Lallo and Yaretzi took their seats on either side of Lu-Ten. The servants presented baskets of a flat bread that Lu-Ten had learned was to be torn and used to scoop up soups and stews. Turkey goat curry was a staple meal amongst all classes, and was to always be eaten with the pliable bread. Even the elite consumed the curry with their hands.
“My uncle says that you will depart soon enough,” Kofi began, tearing off a piece of bread and scooping up the curried turkey goat. “To Hodan.”
“It’s my hope,” Lu-Ten answered.
Kofi sniffed. “Good luck with that. She has little patience for beggar kings.”
Yaretzi bristled. “Lu-Ten is no beggar king ,” she hissed.
The Arakemeti prince was unperturbed. “He has no crown. He has no army. He has no support outside of whatever village you crawled out of and my uncle’s Pai Sho partners. You come to Arakem to grovel before my sister. He is a beggar.” He raised his nose. “Call him what you please, but it does not change what he really is. My uncle might parade him around in gemstones and silks, and sing praises of his father, but the rest of the world will see him as the indigenous peasant he’s been masquerading as for the last two decades.” His words were venomous, his tone conversational. With his oiled beard and numerous rings, he was a picture of decadence and regality. He was everything that Lu-Ten was not. “A dragon will do very little to endear you to the Fire Nation.”
Aggravated flared in Lu-Ten’s belly, though part of him knew the words to be true. He glared at the governor across the table, stabbing at his food and imagined that it was the earthbender’s throat. Kofi’s cool green eyes were impassive.
Lallo tapped on the porcelain bowl to break the uneasy silence. “Send my compliments to the chef, if you would. And tell them to write this recipe down.” He smiled. “Or better yet, when we’re settled, I’ll hire an Arakemeti chef.” His exultant humor did little to lighten the mood. He thrummed his fingers. “It’s a nice armory you have. Positively sublime.”
Lu-Ten ground his teeth.
As their dinner concluded, Nsia rose to her feet. She was the smaller one of Kofi’s favorites, as coquetous as she was comely. She seemed to take pleasure in irritating Yaretzi, more out of amusement than malice however. She wrapped her arms around Lallo’s shoulders, dragging her fingers across his cheeks. Lu-Ten’s sworn brother leaned into her touch, unshackled by any marital obligation. “Will you let me escort you?” Nsia queried, and Kofi looked on mirthfully.
The third, unfamiliar woman, stepped towards Yaretzi and Lu-Ten. Her face was obscured by her veil, which was notably more opaque in comparison to the translucent face coverings that the other women wore. Wordlessly she led the prince and his wife back to their chambers. Yaretzi walked stiffly, her jaw clenched. Lu-Ten found himself growing ever more agitated at the sunlit walls of Kofi’s palace.
“Prince Kofi has no intentions to offend you,” the young woman said, her voice surprisingly rich and mellifluous. “As you’ve seen, he is simply a man who does not curtail his words or opinions. His sister, Queen Hodan, is quite similar.” She smelled of vanilla, which the Arakemeti infused with their coffee to make it aromatic. “Arakem has quite the rapport with the Phoenix King, you see. The two nations have made each other very rich. Phoenix King Ozai has always been very generous.”
“I’m sure he is,” Lu-Ten said darkly. “Except for the time he tried to have me killed when I was a child. His generosity was famously absent.”
Their escort lapsed into a deliquescent silence that seemed to seep into the tile under their feet. “Some would argue clemency is also generosity. The Hyeagles won their crown through conquest. Most dynasties do.” She shrugged. “Such is the world of politics, no?”
Upon their arrival to their suite, Yaretzi stared pointedly at their guide until she left them. "I do not like this place,” she said as she closed the main door. “Nor do I like these people.”
Not this again . Lu-Ten bared his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. At her declaration Lu-Ten groaned. "You don't like anything," he snapped. "I hope you like the Fire Nation palace or else we'll be out of luck, won't we?"
His young wife looked up at him in astonishment, eyes wide and sparkling with offended tears. "Why are you being so sharp with me?"
Lu-Ten exhaled loudly and squeezed his hands. "Ever since we left home, Yaretzi, half of the words from your mouth have been complaints. If you even had a modicum of respect for me, you’d understand what I’m going through. You’d realize that my entire world, my entire identity has been turned upside down. And you’d shut up!” He whirled on her, an unfamiliar anger spiking through him. His insides burned. Yaretzi shrank away. "How can you expect to be a queen when you've been nothing but a temple attendant and a spoiled brat?"
Taken aback, Yaretzi puffed out her chest and tore the Arakemeti veil from her hair. She sauntered up to him and put both hands in the middle of his chest, pushing him back to the door of the room with a strength she often kept hidden. "All of these kind people have put their faith in you, our gods put their trust in you in hopes that you will right these injustices, yes? In hopes that you will be better than your uncle.” Her voice fell into a piercing whisper, wet with disappointment. "But perhaps they were wrong. Maybe you’re just like him. And maybe I am just a temple attendant and a spoiled brat, but don’t forget that you married me."
A laugh ripped itself from Lu-Ten's throat, grating and cruel. "I didn't even want to marry you!" The words burst out of him, landing heavily in the space between them and setting the world they shared on fire. "I did it because you kept pining over me like a lovesick antelopuppy and because I promised Lallo, okay?!"
Her tears dried instantly, as if they had been steamed away. "Oh." Her voice was soft, broken, and Lu-Ten realized in horror what he had done. Lu-Ten reached out to grab her. Yaretzi brushed by him, her headdress falling at his feet, and the door slammed in her wake.
He had given her a bad face, had brought her shame and embarrassment.
Lu-Ten drifted to the bathroom and faced his reflection. His hair had started to grow out black and thick, more Fire Nation than Sun Warrior . Since when had this hunger appeared in his eyes, this lust for more than what he had been given?
His father materialized within the glass, faded with sorrow. Beside him were two other men- one wrinkled and shrunken with age, the other young and black haired and triumphant. Remnants of his own features, traces of their shared ancestry, struck him. The older man was his grandfather, Lu-Ten knew the man to be Fire Lord Azulon. The second had to be his uncle, his enemy, the man who had committed fratricide for want of a gilded throne.
He did not look inherently evil, though he did not give off the air of benevolence either. This was a man who had spent twenty years comfortable in his position, knowing that any opposition would be squashed like a pesky ant under his thumb. Lu-Ten scrapped his brain for the fragments of memories of his uncle and his grandfather. There might have been one, when he was just barely three years old. His grandfather held him against his concave, elderly chest; graying hands held him with warm paternal affection. Just over Azulon's shoulder was the Phoenix King, thin lips twisted into some cruel imitation of a smile- the kind of smile one would give a child with the rueful anticipation of bringing their world to the ground.
What kind of Fire Lord would he be, when the time came to decide? Did the madness and violence that had plagued his grandfather and which still plagued his uncle run through his veins as well? Was his outburst simply the harbinger to a lifetime of rage and thirst for power?
Lu-Ten shuddered.
I look like my uncle.
He was not like them. By birthright he was a prince, but by culture he was a Sun Warrior first and foremost, as he had been for the last twenty years. His gods were Agni and Tenochizun and Citlali. His fire did more than destroy.
He was not him .
The door to the bedroom creaked open and Lu-Ten heard the gentle patter of footsteps enter and then pause. "Yaretzi," he called out, "Yaretzi, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean any of what I said. I mean it. It wasn't my intention, Yaretzi." He ran a long hand down his cheeks. "You're...you're a lot more than a temple attendant."
She stepped around the corner, her toes appearing first and then the rest of her.
"Ya-"
Their escort from the dining hall was lanky and dark skinned, with dark lips and even darker hair threatening to tumble out of her head covering. She had pulled it aside to reveal the entirety of her face. With her came the renewed, overwhelming smell of vanilla and honeysuckle perfume, scents that did not come naturally from the deserts surrounding Al-Imbatu. Her eyes were large and round, like Yaretzi's, but her smile gave her away. She was like Sayuko's mockingrobins, a woman of the red curtains. Lu-Ten stiffened and she paused, leaning back on her heels with childish innocence.
"Hello again.” She grinned.
Lu-Ten furrowed his brow. "What are you doing here? Where is Yaretzi?"
The girl drew closer, her aroma overwhelming him and Lu-Ten damned his soul for the reaction she drew out of him. "I came to see you. Nsia and Ejama told me who you were. Word has spread that you are a warrior prince. That you must win your crown. I find that very brave...I had to see you with my own eyes. What I said earlier is true. Most dynasties win their thrones through conquest. And it is known that not only do you have a dragon, you are one.” Her arms were long and thin, her skin so richly smooth that she could have flowed like water. "You are married? That girl is your wife?”
"Yes."
"Oh." The Arakemeti girl did not sound disappointed. In one calculated step, she was upon him. She laid her hands on his shoulders, pushed him back onto the plush bed in the bedroom. The Arakemeti girl dropped her veil and wrapped it around his neck pulling him down down down.
Lu-Ten stumbled and faltered, grasping for a hold that would not incriminate him further. Cursing himself for the fire ignited in him that he had tried so hard to suppress for Yaretzi's comfort, he pushed the mockingrobin away. Yet still she came onto him, strong and practiced. She straddled him, soft thighs and soft hands, skirt riding up her hips. "But you don't love her. Not in the way a man loves his wife." Her fingers traced his chest and Lu-Ten shuddered at the chilly contact.
"Why does it matter to you?"
She leaned forward over his chest and brought her lips close to his, eyes boring into him, her hips rolling tauntingly against his and Lu-Ten squirmed. Her hips changed pace, grinding into him and he bit his fist. "It does not. Married or not married, my duty remains the same." Her hair was straightened, like silk, falling over her shoulder as she leaned into him and licked at the crook of his neck. " Prince Lu-Ten."
His blood coagulated, turned to solid ice in his veins as he examined her discarded veil. There, etched into the sheer fabric, was the insignia of a raptor swathed in flames. A Phoenix. He wondered how long it had been since the Phoenix King had infiltrated Arakem, if Dejen had known he was leading them into a trap. He couldn’t have. Dejen was not that type of man.
Lu-Ten opened his mouth and began to scream.
The Arakemeti clapped her hand over his lips. "That's not the sound I want to hear!" She hissed. Her knife bit like a pit viper, sharp and sudden, withdrawn from the folds of her dress. Lu-Ten howled in agony, red stars bursting at the edges of his vision. It tunneled and he heaved against her, a last ditch effort to throw his assailant.
The fallen prince rolled onto the floor, his blood following suit. There was the flash of fire (his own?) before it winked out like a candle and Lu-Ten could only imagine that Izon was somewhere in the skies above the world and Citlali and Tenochizun lingered in the heavens watching, watching.
Chapter 40: The Eastern Air Temple
Chapter Text
Katara
The Eastern Air Temple pierced through the fog.
Towers loomed in the distance, solemn watchmen in the clouds gray and imposing. The air here was damp and cold, setting heavy in Katara’s lungs. Mist clung to her hair, lingering on her skin. It might have been mid morning but she could not be certain. Jun and Katara had plodded through most of the night atop Nyla and Lusa. The days after they left Hama and the inn were a blur. Katara had trotted behind Jun in a haze, her mind everywhere and nowhere all at once. She was keenly aware of the creak of her bones, the squelch of her gut, the pounding river of blood in her veins.
She no longer felt alone in her own body.
Jun left her in peace except to give orders or share tidbits of information that she’d gathered. It was through Jun that Katara learned the Phoenix King had a nephew who had escaped the coup that overthrew the Crown Prince after the mad Azulon’s death. Detractors in Ozai’s own court had stolen the boy away when he was a toddler and raised him in secrecy. He emerged from obscurity with a sorceress of a wife and a dragon, only to be cut down in one of the Earth Kingdoms by one of his uncle’s many spies. There was news of her brother as well sweeping across the land, though details were scarce and scattered. Some said he raged in the Earth Kingdoms, that his polar dogs were ferocious beasts that devoured men whole. They said he and warriors were razing villages, ravaging women and plundering what treasure they could find, led by his vicious dogs. Others claimed that Sokka himself was a polar bear dog who shifted shapes under the full moon. All accounts ended the same way however: Ozai’s priorities lay in rooting out his nephew and the traitors that supported him and the Avatar. A scrawny boy playing at being chieftain could wait.
“If they knew about the Prince and could track him down so easily…why haven’t they found me?” The Prince had a dragon . If the rumors were to be believed then his wife was a powerful priestess of an ancient tribe of firebenders separate from those of the Fire Nation. How could Ozai have thwarted them so quickly and so easily? Katara twiddled with the leather of Lusa’s reigns. The leopard caribou had struggled to adjust to a saddle in those first days, but she had settled after Jun introduced her to the riding crop. She only protested in the later hours of the day, when her paw pads were callused and Katara’s rear end and thighs were sore from riding.
Jun rode on in that unsettling silence that Katara had grown accustomed to. Her eyes were straight ahead, on the towers of the temple and the specks of white flying around them that grew increasingly larger as they closed the distance. “Because no one is looking for you to be with a bounty hunter,” she said finally. “And the nephew was an easier target. An archer can’t notch an arrow and hold a shield at the same time. First they handle the boy, then you, and then your brother.”
Katara pondered her words. The Phoenix King, despite his immense power, could not fight a war on multiple fronts. His nephew may have been dead but there were hundreds of people who had kept him hidden. She stared at the back of Jun’s head, her dark hair pulled up high atop her head for once. Katara could see a dark rusty red tattoo that ran all the way from the base of her scalp to her spine. It began to drizzle and then rain harder as they drew every closer to the base of the Air Temple. The white flying things became larger and less diaphanous, taking the shape of massive six limbed furry beasts whose cream colored fur was streaked with white. Katara bent the rain away from them until Jun slapped her hand down with a glare and a venomous “ do you want to get yourself killed?”.
Flying bison, something in Katara knew. They were flying bison, the kindred spirits of the airbenders. She had bonded with them before in her previous lives. Appa. His name was Appa . Lusa grumbled underneath her, bringing her back to the present moment. The incline was impossibly steep, cutting into the mountainside before veering in the other direction until it reached the top. Lusa and Nyla both hesitated, locking their limbs. Jun snapped her whip against the shirshu’s flank once and then once more until Nyla hissed at her, lurching forward. The animals began the ascent, launching themselves up the rocky incline. Lusa’s claws grappled for a hold, her ears drawn back close to her. Katara leaned down against the saddle, her back and hair pelted by the onslaught of rain.
Jun led them on.
The flying bison groaned curiously as they drew closer. One landed on a nearby outcrop. Its eyes, startlingly intelligent, were as large as a man’s hand. A saddle was strapped onto its back. Within the saddle sat a woman. Through the rain Katara could see that her hair had been shaved from her forehead to midway of her scalp, revealing dark brown arrow tattoos. Her arms and legs, though covered in orange and yellow billowing robes, would have the same. The woman bent the air into a sphere over them, keeping the water out. She had the watchful gray eyes of a sentryman. “Who are you?” She demanded without preamble. “And why are you here?”
Katara took the moment to wring water from her hair. The Air Nomad’s eyes never left her.
Quick as a whip, Jun had launched her body from Nyla’s back and closed the distance between herself and the flying bison. She stepped hard on its brow, catapulting into the large saddle. She tackled the airbender, rolling backwards with a speed and agility that Katara had not known she possessed. Clamping her legs around the other woman’s hips, she wrapped one arm around the woman’s shoulders. The other held a razor to her throat.
“I know your people are pacifists, but you must understand I’m bringing someone very important to you. You will take us to your leaders. Specifically Nun Ubon. If there are any firebenders close by, you will ensure that they don’t see the girl.” Jun’s mouth was pressed close to the airbender’s cheek. “Understood?”
Petrified, the Air Nomad nodded. Jun released her. “I will escort you.”
Satisfied, Jun remounted Nyla. The airbender lowered her shield from the rain and took up the reins of her flying bison. The beast hovered as Lusa and Nyla resumed the climb, its tail flapping to keep it aloft. By the time they reached the summit both animals were panting and staggering. The Temple was even larger than Katara had imagined. It had been carved within the mountain side, its towers and archways and halls rising into the clouds. The temple was vibrantly loud. Children (all girls) were running and skipping about, filling the air with laughter. Some were chasing flying lemurs, luring them with fruit. A cohort of nuns passed through, hands hidden in their sleeves. Somewhere a group of women was chanting.
Their escort dismounted her bison and landed gracefully beside them. She walked the rest of the way to the entrance at their side, flittering nervously. A group of children spotted her, rushing towards the woman and her queer guests. “Jima, Jima!” One of the taller girls stepped forward. “Who is this?”
Jima looked even more flustered. “They say they need to see Nun Ubon,” she answered. “Where is she?”
The girl pointed to a hall that went further into the temple. Jima set off in that direction, trailed by a gaggle of girls whose curious whispers streamed behind them like banners. Jima looked over her shoulder. “The girls will take care of your animals,” she said and gestured for them to hand over the reins. Katara passed Lusa to one of the older children whose hands immediately went to the leopard caribou’s snout, her lips moving in quiet encouragement that only Lusa could hear. Nyla did not go so willingly, swinging his head back and forth whenever a girl tried to take hold of his harness. Jun blocked the Air Nomad with her forearm and rubbed Nyla’s star shaped snout, clicking her tongue affectionately. Soothed, the shirshu allowed himself to be taken away.
Jima guided them through an overhang and up a short set of stairs into a chamber. There was nothing in the space save for a fountain in the center. With her back turned to the entrance a woman sat lotus style, her hands outstretched on either side of her body with her palms up. She was chanting.
Upon their entrance she stopped.
“Jima,” her voice was raspy. “Leave us.”
Jima appeared startled, her mouth opening and then closing. “Ubon, I don’t think this is a good idea…these people- we don’t know these people!”
Ubon unfolded her legs and rose to her feet, turning as she did so. She was petite and thin, that was apparent even under her robes. Her hair was streaked with white and her olive skin was also adorned in the markings of her people. She appeared to be the same age as Katara’s father.
Before he…
Katara cleared the memory from her head.
Ubon bowed, her hands forming an apex in front of her chest. “I knew you would come,” she said. “As the time went by I felt your presence grow stronger and stronger.” Her eyes flashed over to Jun. “Though the motivations for your escort were not as pure.” The woman stepped forward as she spoke. “Welcome, Avatar.”
Jun cleared her throat as she pushed Katara towards the nun. “Do what you want with her. Use her to take down the Fire Nation if that’s what you want. I just delivered her to you.” Katara gaped at the bounty hunter, taken aback why her curt tone. Despite the woman’s callous nature, she had begun to consider them to be friends. Jun had seen her at her darkest moments, had held her when she cried, had caught her when she fell from the sky. Tears stung her eyes. “Pay me what she’s worth and then she’s all yours.”
The nun’s expression was unreadable. “What she is worth far exceeds earthly currency. Before you stands the Avatar , the only one who can balance the world. Our only salvation from the spirits and ourselves. While I understand your intentions on bringing her here, you have made a grave mistake. You have brought her right into the hands of the enemy.” Jun was made of stone, her eyes gazing into something far away. Ubon went on, “I will see to it that you are both taken care of while you remain here. Avatar, could you please follow me?”
Katara jolted back to reality. She cast a glance at Jun, who was pointedly looking in the other direction, before following the nun. Ubon led her out of the room with the fountain and down a corridor that seemed unending. Symbols and runes had been carved in the walls and Katara realized they were names. Avatars and influential nuns. Yangchen. Jinema. Maiko. Each one had a face. Each one was familiar. Their memories swam in her mind, both pleasant and painful. Jinema had died unusually young, murdered in her sleep by a spurned lover. Maiko had died as she lived, dancing atop a volcano.
The hall came to an end in front of an enormous carved wooden door. Ubon swept her hands and a gust of wind pushed it open. Katara could not contain her astonishment as she walked into the room. Behind the door was a domed ceiling chamber so immense that she could not see the other side. There were tiers on the walls that wound up to the ceiling where stone seats held motionless, inanimate statues that seemed to possess a haunting sentience. There was a massive statue of an androgynous youth seated lotus style, their fists pressed together. The amount of detail in the effigy was beyond her wildest imaginings. She could see each individual eyelash in the marble, the raised veins along the back of their hands, the lines of their lips. At the base of the statue was a still, crystalline pool. It called out to the deepest parts of her until she found herself stepping forward away from Ubon, her eyes never leaving the statue and the fountain.
From somewhere behind her Ubon’s voice rang out. “Take a drink of the water,” she instructed, “and fly away.”
Katara stopped in front of the pool. Her head barely reached the base of the figure. She stood before the sparkling water and cupped her hands. She brought the liquid to her lips and drank.
The overwhelming sensation of being pulled from every direction swept over her. Her vision went white and her ears rang. She felt as though the fibers of her being were collapsing in until she was little more than a spirit drifting aimlessly in the dark. Before her appeared the endless night sky painted with stars. The blue and yellow and green and red flares of the Northern Lights rose up to embrace her. In front of her hovered a diaphanous giant of her likeness, its milky eyes capturing her. The colossus opened its hand and Katara stepped forward.
The spirit from before materialized. Her eyes glimmered like the constellations, cutting Katara to her core. “Do you still deny yourself, child? Do you still refuse to accept who you are?”
“No,” she answered. “No.”
The god seemed pleased. “Good. Now you must understand that you owe a duty to us, and to your own kind.” It flickered and was suddenly far away. “The spiritual portals have been opening as the gods prepare to recreate the world as it should be. Those in the north,” in its hand balanced a replica of the North Pole, “have tried their best to protect themselves. They have been sentries, the only ones aware of what comes for you all.” The image vanished. “If you love this world as you say you do, Avatar, then you will do your duty to restore balance.” The god came closer. “You are on borrowed time, Avatar.”
Katara trembled.
“Stop your kind from destroying yourselves or we will wipe the earth clean. Restore the balance amongst yourselves. By doing this you must release your earthly tether. Forget who you are, and become what you have always been.”
“But how?” She began to cry.
The god stared down at her with a look of pity. “The same way you always have. You know what you must do.”
Master the four elements.
Stop the advance of the Fire Nation.
Prove to the gods that mankind was worthy of living.
The translucent image of herself began to crumble. Katara cried out as she plunged down, back towards the earth. She reached desperately for a hold on anything, but her fingers only slipped through the darkness. She screamed.
She found herself lying prone in front of the fountain, her chest heaving in an attempt to catch her breath. She gagged and sobbed before turning onto her hands and knees, gasping for air. Ubon’s sandals came into view. Katara stared up at the Air Nomad with streaming eyes. Wordlessly the woman helped her to her feet. “The bounty hunter was wrong to bring you here. The firebenders come regularly. Yet at the same time, the world needs you,” she said. “And the best place for you to learn the spiritual aspects of your identity is here. We can teach you airbending as long as the Fire Nation does not come. The only question for you, Avatar, is are you ready to learn?”
“My name is Katara,” she said in response.
Ubon nodded. “Then let us begin.”
—---
The Air Nomads readily accepted her, granting her a bed amongst their communal sleeping area and giving her a pair of robes of her own. She was unaccustomed to seeing herself in the vivacious yellows and oranges and her hair, which had grown to her mid-back by this point, was tied back by a yellow headband. The nomads consumed no meat, and every morning the nuns all gathered to pray in the temple. The first weeks of Katara’s training was undoing all she had ever known.
She was no longer Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. She was Katara the Avatar.
She owed loyalty to the world, not just her nation.
Ubon had delegated herself to lead the training efforts. For six days and nights Katara sat vigil in one of the temple pavilions under the watchful gaze of the stars. She spoke to no one, her only company was her thoughts. In that silence the horrid realization came upon her that she had never truly had the opportunity to grieve the life she had lost. She had cried and nightmares had plagued her sleep, but never had she been given the chance to face the oppressive sadness of losing everything. Her mother was gone from her first. She had never experienced the sacred bond of starting her moon courses with her mother to lead the rituals of inducting her into womanhood.
Her father’s murder had torn a hole through her that would never heal. She could still see the defiance in his eyes as Zhao took Hakoda’s own dagger to his throat. The loss of her home, the slaughtering of the warriors who had helped raise her. The fire that destroyed IcePoint. The image would never die. Sokka, alone just as she was alone. Yue in the wolf-spider’s web. The capsizing of the naval vessel was the first time Katara had taken a human life. In that moment she had truly lost her innocence.
In the cloud covered pavilion Katara sat alone with her thoughts and her ghosts. She poured out her grief until her body was sore and aching. She released the parts of her that had been bottled away. She wailed and raged, ripping moisture from the clouds and hurling daggers of ice at the stone walls. She ripped water from the roots of plants. On the seventh day the nuns came to retrieve her, having finally exhausted herself, and filled her with new life.
They sang to her the songs of their history. Ubon explained that the Air Nomads had knelt so readily to the Fire Nation because they knew that all things were temporary. Their faith in the Avatar and the balance of the world had kept them, the same way it had kept them in all the other turbulent times. All things pass like wind through the trees, Ubon said. But you must have strong roots.
A week after their arrival, Jun descended the mountain atop Nyla. She left in the middle of the night, adrift to whatever next would serve her.
Katara tossed an apple to the small herd of newborn flying bison, watching as the little ones (who were not little at all) scrambled to claim it. She threw another with a giggle. The youngest girls would soon be able to pick a flying bison of their own from the herds in an elaborate ceremony known as the Syzygy. A bison bonded with their human for life and very few ever chose a second rider after their human passed on. The bond between the flying bison and an Air Nomad was one of the only constants of their culture. Everything else could come and go with the wind.
Even the children. Marriage did not exist in the same sense amongst the airbenders. They chose lovers as they pleased. The children of the unions were adopted by a monk or nun of the Air Temples and were raised communally. A mother might never rear their own baby unless they were the same gender. A boy would be sent to the Northern or Southern Air Temple to live amongst the monks once weaned. A girl would be mothered by a nun.
A little bison with a deformed tail wandered closer to Katara. It chuffed and she knelt to put her hands in the thick, shaggy white fur. Though it was explicitly forbidden to name a bison she had not claimed, she had secretly named it Amka, an untraditional name for a flying bison but one that seemed to suit her all the same. She had been born after long hours of being breech in the womb and her mother had crushed her tail by accident. Katara and the nuns had nursed the little one by hand with bottles and later chopped fruits until she took to the sky with all the others. She slid a fruit in the bison’s mouth. “And where have you been?” She cooed. Amka pressed her large head against Katara’s knees, knocking her backwards.
She tumbled and the bag of fruits on her hip spilled open. A horde of fluffy bison descended on her, their grunts and chuffs of excitement causing her to burst into laughter as they greedily consumed the fruit. “You naughty little booger cannon!”
“It gladdens me to see you at peace, Avatar.” Ubon appeared, gliding across the pasture. A rare smile was on her lips. “Today we begin your spiritual journey.”
Katara stiffened involuntarily. To heal from her own emotional wounds was one thing. To open herself to the pain of the universe was another. But it was no longer about her, she thought. The gods had given her an ultimatum. She could master the elements and thwart the Fire Nation or the gods would take matters into their own hands and humanity would perish. Let the Fire Nation die, she thought bitterly before a sense of shame washed over her. The common people of the Fire Nation were just as innocent as her own. Why should they suffer the consequences of one man’s greed? “I’m ready.”
Ubon led her out of the pastures and to one of the more secluded outcroppings. The sunrise was most visible from this vantage point. The small cave would be bathed in the morning light. From the edge one could see the entire world. At least that’s how she felt. The Air Temple was on a quiet peninsula of the continent of the Earth Kingdoms, nestled between the sea and the land and she had never felt so far away from the world as she did here. The Air Nun plopped onto the ground, folding her legs under her and bid Katara to do the same. “You are a healer, I imagine that you are already aware of the chakras and the flow of Chi?”
“Of course,” she answered. Ubon quirked a brow and she wondered if she had answered incorrectly. With one hand she started at the crown of her head and touched each point of her body where the chakras lay, ending at her root. The nun remained motionless. “Chi is the energy that flows through us all.”
“Fundamentally yes,” the nun said. “I can see in you that your root and heart chakras are strong and clear. But these,” Ubon gestured to the center of her forehead and top of her head, “are dull and closed off. You are passionate- that much is evident, but the circumstances you have endured have clouded your judgment. You see only what is in front of you. You confine yourself to the shackles of your paradigmatic thoughts. That much is understandable. In this life you have only known the culture of the Southern Water Tribe. And even then you knew only the life and luxury of the privileged.”
Katara opened her mouth. “But I…”
Ubon shushed her. “I am not accusing you, girl. None of that is a fault of your own.” She leaned back and spread her hands to either side in a meditation position. “Meditate with me.”
Katara hesitated before obeying, raising her hands. She closed her eyes and regulated her breathing. She sank into herself, clearing her mind. Ubon’s voice drifted over to her. “Let yourself enter the void.”
She fell forward.
She was a child again, barely more than two. The sprawling yards of IcePoint spread out before her. There was her mother, standing beside her father. Sokka was chasing after their father’s polar dog from Bato’s kennels, a massive black beast that would one day sire Togo and Darkstar. The guardsmen watched cheerfully as she toddled through the freshly fallen snow.
“ Look at her,” she could hear her mother say, “ she has winter in her bones like the rest of us. If the White Lotus takes her away then she won’t be Katara anymore.”
“ She will always be Katara. She will just be more.” Her father murmured back, lowering his head to his wife’s.
Katara blinked and years passed. The halls of IcePoint smelled of death. She stood in a corner, unseen as healers swirled about. Her mother, she knew, was dying. Hakoda leaned against a wall, his shoulders heaving as he cried into his clenched fists. Gran-Gran patted his arm. Katara felt herself trembling, felt tumultuous emotion roiling through her young bones.
The walls began to quake.
Ice splintered and flew across the ground.
Suddenly eyes were upon her. Katara watched as her father ran towards her, his arms outstretched-
The Avatar State , she realized in the present, whenever something goes wrong it triggers the Avatar State.
“Correct,” Ubon said. “It is a mechanism that the Avatar spirit developed as an act of self-preservation. You are able to channel all of your past lives and their skills. Thus far you have only been able to trigger it in moments of intense distress.” Katara blinked to clear her vision. “But you are also able to enter it at will. To do so, you must let go.”
Katara balled her fists in frustration. “I’m trying!” She snapped. “You keep saying let go, but what does that really mean?!” She huffed. Whenever she tried to meditate she always slipped back into her memories or those of her previous reincarnations.
Ubon sighed. “You will understand.”
She still did not understand by the time the Syzygy was upon them. The girls were nearly afloat with joy and anticipation as they gathered before the pastures, clinging to each other. Their voices formed a song that rang to the ceilings of the Air Temple. They were a sea of warm colors and gray eyes. Some were pale and red haired while others had darker skin and curls, but all of them had the same round eyes and carefree gait.
Ubon and her fellow lead nuns stood before the children. They held baskets of apples for the youths to select. Katara stood off to the side with Lusa resting close by. “Today is a very special day for you all,” Ubon addressed the assembled girls. “You will bond with the bison who will not only be your mount, but your closest friend. As I call your names, come take an apple and let your companion choose you.”
“Dorje.”
One of the taller girls, on the cusp of womanhood, strode forward. She dipped respectfully to her elders and reached for an apple. Exhaling loudly, she went to the edge of the pasture and held out her hand.
One of the calves lumbered forward, its six legs moving quickly as it half ran and half flew towards Dorje. It stopped before the girl and she tossed the apple into its open mouth, a wordless shout of joy escaping her lips as they claimed each other. “Tama!” She christened the calf, layering kisses on its brown and white ears.
Ubon had one of her rare but genuine smiles. She cupped Dorje’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. “Take Tama to have her sized for a saddle. Bless you, child, now and forever.”
Katara looked on silently as the nuns took turns summoning the children. “Padma, Gephel, Tsemily.” The list went on. “Jinpa. Gyatma. Uri. Orrah. Yuna.” Each one bonded to the calves, their excitement palpable. Each time Katara craned her neck to see if Akma had been chosen but the calf remained in the pasture.
The last girl, a scrawny little thing barely more than five, walked up to the elders. Warmth shone in their eyes as Ubon knelt to place the last fruit in her hand. “Bilhah,” Ubon said, “choose wisely.”
Little hands trembling, Bilhah crept to the pasture. There were only a few calves left to be chosen. The little girl closed her eyes and blindly thrust out her hand. Katara could see her lips working in silent prayer. She found herself urging the girl on.
Akma waddled through the pasture, leaping into the air. She flew lopsidedly to Bilhah, readily taking the apple from the little girl’s palm. Bilhah opened her eyes and blinked rapidly in disbelief. She began to jump up and down with squeals of delight. The nuns laughed heartily. “She chose me, she chose me!” Bilhah cried. “Look, she chose me!”
“Indeed she did,” said Yamjang, another of the elders. “And what shall her name be?”
Bilhah paused, her lip jutting out as she pondered. A broad grin took over her face. “Dawa!”
Her happiness was infectious. Katara rolled the name over her tongue as Akma, now Dawa, followed her new young master away from the pasture. Katara dug her hands into Lusa’s fur, kissing the space between her antlers. Lusa rumbled contentedly.
With the Syzygy completed, the collection of Air Nomads and acolytes dispersed. Katara pushed herself to her feet and went to retrieve Lusa’s harness and full tack, unused from all those weeks ago. More than weeks, she realized, months. It had been more than a year and a half from the day Yue had arrived to the South Pole. In that time Katara had turned fifteen, though the day had passed without fanfare or acknowledgement. Sokka, she thought, would be several months over sixteen. He would be a man in the eyes of the law, wandering the Earth Kingdoms in search of allies. Their objectives were the same but their reasonings were different.
Sokka aimed to avenge their father.
Absentmindedly she climbed atop Lusa. With a gentle snap of the reins she urged the leopard caribou to descend the mountain. They had not left the Air Temple and its closest pastures and paths since their arrival. Lusa was exercised by Katara riding her bareback along a shrub-laden trail that wrapped part way around the mountain. Supplies and goods were brought up the windward side, where the incline was not quite so steep. Though she had not seen them, Jima had told her that the Fire Nation only approached from the direction of rainfall.
Lusa trotted languidly down the winding trail which proved to be not nearly as grueling as the one they arrived on. She stopped to sniff at plants, nipping off a mouthful of berries from a bush. Katara allowed her mount to choose her own path, taking the moment to enjoy the tranquility around her.
A small stream ran downhill. The water called out to her and she responded with a snap of her wrist, causing it to rise and fall. The nuns had introduced her to their meditation and circuits though she had yet to produce more than a gust of wind or a pathetic air sphere. To the native born children, airbending came more naturally. There were a number of girls who had earned their mastery tattoos already. The more mischievous ones were prone to blazing across the temple grounds on air spheres or skates. Katara sometimes raced alongside them with her waterbending, propelling herself on ice.
They went on in silence with no true destination in mind. The airbenders were fond of meandering, stopping or laying their heads whenever or wherever it felt right. A few men had taken refuge every now and then, resting their heads or tumbling with one of the nuns before carrying on. Katara had no doubt that the next months would see rounded bellies under sashes and robes.
Lusa stopped to drink from the stream, her cervid tail twitching. Katara pressed gently with her thighs to guide the leopard caribou back to the trail. The animal locked her limbs, ears pricked forward and rotating to catch sound. She bared her teeth. Katara could feel the vibration of her growl.
Katara reached for her canteen and cursed when she found her belt empty. It was back at the temple on her cot. With one hand gripping the reins and the other arched to strike, they stepped onto the main path.
She could hear the crunch of gravel and dry grass underfoot. Katara narrowed her eyes. Lusa lowered herself into a crouch and bared her teeth.
The rustling grew louder, accompanied by a fatigued chuffing and panting. Lusa growled and Katara braced herself for the animal’s spring loaded launch. The leopard caribou lunged with a savage roar, jaws open and slavering. Katara yanked back hard on the reins just in time to avoid the whip of a wicked thin tongue.
The star-nosed shirshu withdrew its tongue, rumbling happily. Lusa made a groan of recognition, pressing her shoulder against the shirshu’s flank. Katara gaped.
“Well hello to you, Blue Eyes.” Jun sat atop Nyla, looking down at the waterbender. Though her hair covered one of her eyes, the one was sparkling with amusement. “Look at you playing dress up.”
Katara found herself without words. Her mouth hung open until she closed it, her lips curling in anger. “You jerk! You selfish, heartless, greedy jerk! You left me here, you basically sold me out just to come back to say I’m playing dress up?! I can’t believe you! I can’t believe the audacity.”
Jun adjusted herself in the saddle. “Selfish, greedy, heartless, audacious. You forgot to mention remarkably clever.” The woman smirked as she looked down at her painted nails. Katara noticed that her tattoos now extended all the way down her arms, ending at her wrists. “What are they teaching you up there?”
Katara ignored the question. “Why are you here?” She spat.
The bounty hunter immediately sobered. The taunting smile vanished and a shadow came across her countenance. “I thought training to be the Avatar would’ve made you less annoying. I’ve been in Laogai in Ba Sing Se where they built a new train station, hunting a real grimy bastard.” (Katara had never seen a train but she let the woman go on.) “On the way back to Banka-Kadi, I caught word of the Fire Nation preparing to storm all of the Air Temples. The Phoenix King is fixated on finding the Avatar or whoever might be stupid enough to harbor him. Surprise surprise he takes the path of least resistance.” Nyla bucked his head. “Katara…There’s a legion headed this way.”
Dread filled her belly. “How far? I have to warn Ubon and the others!”
Jun suddenly seemed very old and very young at the same time. Katara had never seen the woman panicked or even unnerved. She gazed up at the Temple. “Probably about a few days behind. Maybe a week, if you’re feeling generous. They dispatched them from a military outpost at the tip of Banka-Kadi. I pushed Nyla as hard as I could to swing around and get ahead of them.”
“What do I do?” Katara despaired.
“You get outta here, kid. Take that creature of yours and get as far away from here as you can.” Jun looked over the top of her head at the Air Temple.
Katara shook her head. “I can’t. If the Fire Nation is coming then I can’t leave them.” She thought of Ubon and Jima, and little Bilhah with her newly beloved Dawa. “They’ll need me.”
“They need you to pack up and haul, Blue Eyes.” Jun lashed out to grab Lusa’s reins. “What are you not understanding? If the Fire Nation finds you here then every single one of those flighty nuns are dead.” She kicked her heels against Nyla’s flank to move him forward, up the path. Katara struggled to maintain the leopard caribou, who was caught in the middle, dragged along by the strong shirshu.
Helpless they were hauled up the hill by the shirshu and his furious owner, whose features were more severe than usual. Katara protested feebly as they returned to the Air Temple where a number of nuns had gathered in curiosity. Jun let go of the reins and pointed a finger at the young Avatar. “Gather her things. She’s coming with me.”
Ubon appeared, gliding over the stone floor. She and Jun glowered at each other. “You brought the Avatar to us because you determined she would be most valued here. Though we had issued no bounty, you were paid handsomely from our meager coffers.” Her voice remained at the same timbre but was harsh all the same. “We have poured ourselves into the effort of not only healing her from her traumas but guiding her on her path to be the Avatar. And yet here you are, doing as you please, and you expect us to relinquish her?”
Jun swung around to point at the horizon. “If the girl remains here then all of you will die. Do you think I wanted to come back up this spirits-forsaken hill because I missed her? No, you old crone. I came all this way because I didn’t want blood on my hands.” Her chest was heaving, the most emotion she had ever shown in front of Katara and most likely in front of the world. “There is an army of firebenders headed this way in search of the girl. If you want to preserve your miserable pacifist hides, then you’ll send her away.”
The older woman inhaled sharply. “Yamjang, ride out on Zopa to confirm what this woman says.” She snapped her fingers and the other elder hurried off, reaching for the necklace that held her bison whistle. “Jima, Benma.” Her subordinates scurried over. Without looking at them, Ubon gestured to the back of the temple. “Gather the children.”
Benma and Jima dipped their heads. Ubon’s eyes focused on one of the girls carelessly dancing along with a flying lemur, blissfully ignorant of the panic spreading amongst the adults. “Benma and Jima will leave with the young ones. The rest of us will remain here. I will make further decisions upon Yamjang’s return.” She dropped into the lotus position in front of them, shutting herself off with closed eyes and quiet chants.
Katara fidgeted. She watched as Yamjang rose up into the sky on Zopa’s back and disappeared into the clouds.
The children began to protest in confusion as Benma and Jima, joined by Norbu and Dorni, corralled them. They dressed the youngest ones, including little Bilhah, in thicker layers of clothing and tied scarves around their heads to protect their cherubic faces from the elements. The three toddlers Nemi, Lhaola, and Medo were strapped to the chests of the adults. Norbu passed each of the little ones a rucksack. The older girls would fly freely in the saddles of their own flying bison while those less than nine years old would ride with the adults. Their bison would be tied together and led by the grown beasts.
“What’s going on?” Dorje asked as she shrugged on a cloak. “Where are we all going?”
Norbu tied the wrap that would keep Lhaola close tighter, pulling the excess cloth over the baby’s head. “Never you mind that, child. Just do as you’ve always done and listen to your elders. I’m entrusting you older girls to look out for those who are not as skilled as you. Jorji, you will take up the rear with Benma and myself.”
This is all my fault
This is all my fault.
Paddi rushed forward with Katara’s worldly possessions tied up in a faded brown sack. She set it down at the Avatar’s feet with a bow before diving back into the storm of preparations.
It seemed that just as quickly as she had flown away, Yamjang returned. Her hair had come loose from its plaits, flying wildly about her face. Zopa slid to a halt in front of them, her massive bulk filling the space. Yamjang jumped from the saddle, her brown face cast with a pallor. “The bounty hunter is right. Fire Nation soldiers with the King’s banner are marching this way and quickly. I did not count how many.”
Ubon remained seated, as if she had not heard the woman’s return and report. Yamjang lingered, casting sidelong glances at her superior. “Avatar…for your own sake, you must leave us.” She locked eyes with the young girl. “I do not doubt that our paths will cross again. Your airbending training is far from complete. But for now we must separate. Should you ever encounter those who follow the guiding winds of peace, you will recognize them by their favorite Pai Sho tile.”
This is all my fault.
Jun placed a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “The sooner you leave, the safer they’ll be.”
“Ubon, I…”
The nun lifted her hand. “Remember all you have learned.” She placed Katara’s rucksack over her shoulder, cupping the girl’s face. Ubon pressed their foreheads together and her breath was cool and smelled of ginseng. “The world needs you. Now go.” Gently she pushed Katara away from her, solemnly watching as she mounted Lusa and followed Nyla down the hill.
Katara paused on the path and raised her head. Ubon still stood on the edge, her white streaked hair billowing about her. The nun was still staring at them and the horizon, a solitary sentinel. She lifted a hand in farewell and then they were gone.
Jun said little and Katara said even less. They rode through the entirety of the night and the next morning before bedding down in a shallow cave at the foot of the mountain. The cave itself was on a cliff that jutted out from a hill, a sad remnant of a dying mountain chain. There was still a distance to go, but both animals had begun to slump from fatigue. They had turned them loose to find food and when the shirshu and leopard caribou returned satiated, twilight of the second day was already upon them. Katara settled in the curve of Lusa’s warm flank, resting her head on her satchel. Jun did the same, leaning against Nyla as the shirshu slept.
“I heard about your brother,” Jun said.
Katara craned her neck. They had not dared to start a fire for warmth out of fear of attracting firebenders or other unsavory predators. “What did you hear? Where is he? Where is he headed?”
The bounty hunter shifted. “Apparently he’s won over Kyoshi and Omashu. Kyoshi is a joke but Omashu is a pretty impressive feat. The king is an absolute lunatic that regularly has men fight to the death,” Katara winced as she went on, “so far no one has managed to kill him. He’s got a gang of your people, a Kyoshian, and some stragglers in his company according to the grapevines. He could be heading to Taku or he could be headed to Garsai, who knows.”
Katara pressed her hands over her stomach. Sokka wouldn’t go to Garsai, he was a better strategist than that. Garsai was one of the westernmost Earth Kingdoms, closest to the Fire Nation. To go there would be a death trap. Nevertheless, to hear that he was alive ( and doing well) brought some peace to her. Jun had fallen silent. “Jun…”
Her voice, groggy with sleep: “What, Blue Eyes?”
“I don’t think you’re heartless.” Katara whispered and when she peeked over she saw that the woman had fallen asleep with her arms over her chest, as relaxed as she had ever been.
Katara silently crawled to the mouth of the cave, gawping at the boundless skyline. The earth was still. A meteorite was falling and would land somewhere very far away, but its magic captivated her all the same.
A streak of fire, red like a comet, like blood, arced across the sky.
A streak of fire, like blood, arced across the sky
A streak of fire.
Katara wailed without words as she scrambled out of the cave to comprehend what she was seeing. In the distance, but close enough that she could make out the lines of individual men, were Fire Nation scouts. They were lighting their way with bursts of fire that cracked across the sky like lightning. It was inconsistent, sporadic enough to be likened to a trick of the eyes. They were headed, she realized with dread, directly to the Air Temple. They were alone, having broken away from the main host.
She raced back to the camp, rousing Lusa and roping the harness around her head. She threw the tack onto her back, yanking hard on the cinch. Swinging herself up and into the seat, Katara kicked twice on Lusa’s side. The leopard caribou yowled as she burst out of the cave, head tucked down as she galloped over the dry terrain.
Katara held up her hand, measuring the distance between the firebenders and the temple. She could head them off and backtrack to the Air Temple, or she could intercept them. It would be one against many, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing. She had to try. Katara pressed closer and snapped the reins. Lusa accelerated, each stride covering more and more ground.
“Blue Eyes!” Voice nearly drowned out by the thundering of paws, the bounty hunter pulled up beside Katara, her hair flying loose. “What are you doing, you idiot!”
Katara curled her fingers around the reins. “I’m stopping them.” She snarled. Jun stared at her incredulously.
The noise of their approach had alerted the first scout. He halted in his tracks. As Katara drew closer she could see his emotions shift from confusion to fear upon seeing two vicious beasts flying in his direction. The others were not far behind, paralyzed. The second recovered more quickly than the others, kicking out a volley of fireballs.
Lusa veered sidelong, sliding underneath the barrage. Katara popped the cap of her canteen, forming a whip around the man’s waist that sent him sprawling to the bushes. The leopard caribou disabled another by tossing him with her solid antlers.
The third firebender was prepared as Lusa wheeled around to charge him. She lowered her head to spear him. Katara willed her mount to have a strong root. Together they charged at the soldier. In one swift movement he grabbed hold of Lusa’s antlers and using her momentum he jumped up and twisted at the waist. His boots connected with Katara’s chest, sending her flying out of the saddle and into the dirt and rocks.
Amazed by his own agility, the firebender sprang free of Lusa’s range. Katara could see his yellow eyes through the visor of his helmet. “It’s the Avatar!” He exclaimed. She felt as though she was looking into the eyes of Zhao and all his lackeys who had tormented her. The soldier conjured a ball of fire at his fist as he came down on her. Katara rolled once and then twice, just heartbeats before Lusa’s jaws closed around the man’s shoulder and hurled him aside.
A thin barbed tongue lashed out, paralyzing the fourth firebender that had tried to sneak up from behind. Jun was fighting hand to hand with the fifth, ducking and diving for an opening with her dagger. The last two of the scouts closed in, pressing the Avatar and the bounty hunter back with walls of orange flame. The heat licked at Katara’s cheeks as she slipped into airbending stances, utilizing the precious few skills she possessed.
They were still losing ground.
Several of the other soldiers had recovered enough to join their comrades. “Detain the Avatar!” Commanded the most decorated one. Katara felt part of the ground crumble under her feet. She dared to glance back. Her stomach turned. The firebenders had nearly pushed them to the unstable edge of the cliff where the hill plunged into a small ravine.
Nyla lashed out with his tongue, catching one man on the neck. With a bellow, the Fire Nation soldier sent a blast of fire that connected with the shirshu’s empty eyes and nose before he went down. Nyla screeched, his brown and black tail whipping as he tried to orient himself. Jun threw her blade down and grabbed onto his harness with both hands in an attempt to redirect him. Katara fought through the tiny blisters that were forming on her skin from meeting the fire with bending of her own. Lusa roared.
The men pressed shoulder to shoulder, moving in sync. They dipped at the knee and followed through with powerful bursts of energy that rose up through their bodies in an explosion of red-orange fire that pushed Katara back. With little time to deflect, she spun on her heel and thrust her arm in one direction and her foot in another, eyes widening as the inferno passed overhead.
There was a cry of alarm that was cut short.
In the rapid exchange of fire and air, the bounty hunter’s balance was thrown. She stumbled over the rock face headlong, Nyla tearing free from his harness. Katara swung into another stance, deflecting the fire with a twist of her arms. She dared to look over the edge.
Jun was broken, contorted into a position that human bodies were not accustomed to make. She still clutched Nyla’s reins in her hand, even though the shirshu had fled amidst the chaos. Her eyes were open, gazing into whatever lay beyond the world of the living.
Something shattered.
The Avatar stared at the twisted body of the woman who had once been her friend, numbly aware of the warriors clustering behind her. There was a persistent ringing in her ears. She turned back to the firebenders and exhaled, bringing her hands center.
Katara focused on the Chi surging through her, through each chakra that came aglow with activation. Her root, her sacral, her solar plexus, her heart. Her throat. Her third eye. Her crown. Energy rushed through them all.
And then she let go.
Her eyes turned ghastly white and her countenance was a mask of inhuman rage. Her movements became more aggressive and heavy as she stomped, thrusting both hands out. The earth bent and heaved as she pulled up a boulder. It followed the direction of her clenched fist. Her kicks were sharp and crisp, meeting fire with her own. The firebenders broke formation in an attempt to match the Avatar’s ferocity.
One could not compare to a near-god.
Bombs of fire erupted with every kick and punch until the firebenders were retreating. They cried out in horror as the Avatar pulled them back to her in a tornado of stone and flame, denting their armor with rocks the size of fists. Her fingers curled into claws, grabbing a hold of their blood. The men sobbed in terror. With lethal calm the Avatar extended her arm and slowly dropped her body into a lunging position. “ Bow. Down.” Their bodies reacted to her command. “Go tell your king,” she said in a thousand voices and one, “that if he wants war, then he shall have it.” She flung her arm out and the firebenders were thrown onto the quaking ground. The Avatar’s piercing white stare pinned them into place. “Take your men and flee. Retreat from all the Air Temples or I will sink the archipelago back into the bowels of the earth and ocean. Now go!”
The men fled with only their lives, having lost their honor and dignity to the teenaged Avatar. She stared at them as they retreated, dully registering the sound of something landing behind her. Katara turned to see Yamjang and quickfooted Zopa. The Air Nomad gawped, opening her arms just as Katara fell into them. Yamjang surveyed the charred earth and the body of the bounty hunter, and then the Avatar she was cradling.
Without a sound the airbender placed Katara in Zopa’s saddle with the care one would afford a newborn. She made a gesture of prayer for Jun to usher her to the afterlife and marked the ground to remember the scene. They would return to give her body respect. But now…
Yamjang took to the skies with Lusa trailing on foot. Katara lay unconscious, her thin frame twitching involuntarily. Yamjang pushed a strand of hair away from her cheeks and then, like the stars and the moon and the night, they were gone.
Chapter 41: A Lying Man’s Tongue
Chapter Text
Yue
The litter rocked side to side, a rhythmic motion that reminded Yue of a ship. Yet, instead of departing the Northern Water Tribe or arriving to the Fire Nation archipelago, they were passing through the swept streets of the Capitol, the curtains half parted in order to allow them to see the world outside. There were ladies of the households strolling along with their daily checklists in hand, followed by clusters of servants that would carry the supplies. Others were obviously students, some as young as six or seven, walking with their hands linked together.
“They’re from the Intermediate school,” Zuko explained, pointing out the white fire emblem on their crisp uniforms. “Their families are too poor to live in the Capitol but they sent their children here for the opportunities. Mother donated money to buy all their uniforms.”
Yue nodded. Her own mother had devoted herself to philanthropy, making and mending clothes for orphans and children whose mothers had borne them out of wedlock. She did not doubt that Ursa would make herself to be the epitome of a dutiful queen, and by all means except fidelity, she was. To her left sat Azula, scowling fiercely at some enemy that only she could see, and Yue tried to imagine the princess following in the steps of her mother. Azula was much better suited for the role of Fire Lord rather than Fire Lady. Walking quietly and slowly to ensure her pointed shoes were not seen under her dress did not fit her. Azula walked like a man. “And this widow that we are visiting...what does she do?”
“Takuma’s widow?” Azula answered before her brother, proving that she had been listening even when her eyes had been elsewhere. “It depends- what did she do before her husband bit the nail or what does she do now?” She leaned into Yue, throwing one leg over the other and her eyes narrowed into salacious slits. “Before Takuma died, she spent her days gossiping and campaigning for her husband and she spent her nights wandering under red lanterns-”
“Azula, that’s not true,” Zuko interjected. “Don’t tell her lies.”
The Fire Princess shrugged. “It’s just what the word said, but snakes and moles like to throw dirt on high standing names. Lady Maiko is the noblewoman’s equivalent of a grandmother that won’t stop feeding you; she could tell you about our grandmother if you let her. Most of the ladies that you’ve met have been after one thing or another, and Lady Maiko is too, but she hides it well.” She clicked her tongue. “She had no choice. The years leading up to and directly following my father’s coronation were...turbulent. It was all in the gods’ plan, of course. Our uncle would’ve run our country into the ground.”
Of course, Yue thought, any family that could withstand the upheaval of the royal family’s hierarchy and wind up on the right side of history was a wise one. Takuma, whoever he had been, had been cunning enough to err on the side of caution during Ozai’s usurpation. She wondered how many families had not been so lucky or savvy, and how many had followed the Phoenix King’s brother into the grave. There were still others, she now knew, who had kept the Crown Prince’s son hidden for more years than she had been alive. They had been dedicated to a long con and from her recent nights of lingering awake at night, Tui vigilant at her feet, she knew that eventually she would be their aid and their enemy. Any man of the same blood as Ozai had to be brought to heel.
Even the lost son.
Even Zuko.
From the crack of the curtain, Yue could see that they were approaching a property. The gates of the estate were adorned with emberwolves carved from obsidian volcanic glass with gilded eyes and collars. The guardsmen threw open the gates, revealing a round courtyard flanked by vibrant green hedges. As they drew closer, the widow’s manor spread across Yue’s line of sight. It carried none of the extravagance or wonder of the palatial estate- in comparison it was quite small, laughably plain, and austere. The Phoenix King’s household would take up an entire city block on its own, yet this noblewoman’s residence seemed... quaint. Homely.
Azula leapt out first from one side and Zuko from the other, extending his arm to help Yue down from the litter. Behind them, the Phoenix Queen was stepping down onto the stool that one of the litter bearers had set before her while another adjusted the hem of her gown. She had chosen to style her hair in a high top-knot, her diadem balancing on her lovely head while her pouting lips were glossed over. She joined her children and Yue, their eyes briefly meeting. “You should find Lady Maiko to be a lovely, exemplary woman, Princess Yue. A true Fire Nation wife and you should take note should one day you become one.”
“Yes, my lady.” Yue replied. She knew it would come one day, her betrothal to whomever the Phoenix King deemed fit. She gave an innocuous smile in the direction of the Phoenix Queen as they made their way across the courtyard to the entrance of the main house. A number of servants rushed out to greet them, bowing deeply to the Queen and her brood. They did not speak as they guided the children and their mother into the atrium. Yue took note of the skylight, which cast them all into brilliance. Azula and Zuko’s eyes turned into suns while Ursa’s took on the shade of honey.
“Lady Ursa,” an elderly yet firm woman’s voice came from the hall. A small matron appeared, cloaked in white and wine-red, the wrinkles of her face contoured into some imitation of a polite smile. “Each time I see you, you become more and more beautiful.” The lady of the house had her graying hair pulled tight and she wore spectacles that made her brown eyes seem much larger than they were. “The sun shines and you shine yet brighter.” She opened her arms, bringing the taller Queen into a spine-crunching embrace. Upon release, she turned to Zuko and Azula. “And to think it’s been a year since I’ve seen our Prince and Princess.” She grabbed Zuko’s hand, running her thumb along the length of his fingers. “Fine children, they are.” At last her eyes landed on Yue yet her smile did not falter. “And my, isn’t she the most lovely? Are they all as beautiful as you in the North Pole, Princess?”
She reminded Yue of Yugoda in a way, whose affection and compliments had always warmed her core. The Northern Water Tribe princess flushed and the Lady Maiko patted her hand, drawing them further into the atrium, into the inner sanctum of the house. The interior was just as plain as the outside- or rather as plain as nobility tended to go. The widow seemed to sink into the very walls of her home, as if she had lived within its walls so long that she had simply become part of the furniture. She did not give off the air of regality, or even any sort of command. Yue could not picture the woman raising her voice or demanding her ice water be served with four ice cubes rather than three. Perhaps that was why the Phoenix Queen and her children held her in such high esteem.
“Princess Yue is just as beautiful within as she is out,” Ursa said to the widow. “It has been quite the pleasure to see her grow into such a woman while she has been in our custody- any man she marries will be a lucky man.”
“I can see that,” Lady Maiko replied as she led them into another reception area, this one brightly lit by the sun that streamed in through the glass walls. “And our Princess Azula, as well, even though it will take quite the man to tame a Phoenix.” She smiled, the wrinkles folding around her eyes. “I pray they both wed well...and I will mourn the day they lose their men.” She sighed, running her hands over the surface of a small round table. “It still hasn’t gotten easier since I’ve lost my Takuma.”
Ursa seemed to harden. “He was an honorable man, Lady Maiko. Our family will always remember how he stood by us during such...turbulent times. Ozai and I were barely more than children when we rose so high. But the gods had ordained us to rise and so we did. You remember those days, Maiko.”
The widow nodded. “Of course, my lady, how could I forget? Our prince Ozai fought so valiantly to preserve the greatness of our nation and even if Takuma had not followed, then I would have. You blessed us so much after your coronation, my queen, everyday I remind myself that I am eternally grateful to you. Those twenty years were so lovely...and then they took him away.” She clenched her teeth and ran her thumb over her eyes. When she opened them once more, a bit of the motherly light had died. “His honor is what killed him.”
And Yue, as she had been taught, began to listen.
“It has been the cruelest and most puzzling mystery, Maiko, and we also mourn his absence. No man was more honest with his advice than Takuma, and I want you to rest assured that our Ministry of Justice has been actively searching for the culprit.” Ursa pursed her lips in a red-lined pout of sympathy. “An attack on your family is an attack on us, an attack on the Fire Nation.”
It was not the only attack on the Fire Nation, Yue thought to herself. Someone within the pristine caldera had been unhappy enough to kill one of the Phoenix King’s closest advisors, perhaps the same someone who had harbored the Phoenix King’s nephew for twenty years. They had chosen the most peculiar time to release the lost dragon- in the same year that the Avatar had been found? The same year that Ozai had committed controversial political upheaval? In a way, it was genius, yet also the act of a great fool if they did not move their tiles with caution. Whatever endgame they had in mind could be shattered if the lost nephew turned out to be worse than his uncle. Ozai was a cruel and wrathful man but he was not Azulon.
A servant brought them tea and rice cakes, which Yue took gracefully. Ursa took a sip of the tea and nibbled the rice cake before wiping her lips, grabbing the Lady Maiko’s hand. “Really, Lady Maiko, we shouldn’t tarry. We came to invite you to the gala that I’m throwing in honor of the girls- Azula is of the age and Yue deserves a Fire Nation debut. Any donations and fundraising will be distributed to the Intermediate schools, you know how much I’ve poured into them. I would’ve have just sent you a letter, but it’s been so long since I’ve seen my dear friend!”
Yue snapped her head around to watch Azula, wondering if she had known of her mother’s motive. But it appeared that the Fire Nation princess was blindsided for a moment, her eyes widening in bewilderment and ephemeral panic before she regained her composure. Perhaps she thought that she would be exempt from a woman’s rites of passage. If a Fire Nation debut was anything like one in the Northern Water Tribe, then it would be the beginning of months of suitors promising her just more of the same life she had already lived. A blanket of horrid realization clouded Yue’s mind- it was now within the Queen’s right to marry her off, even in a bout of pettiness. By involving her in the debut, Ursa was making her intentions clear:
Yue would not return to the North.
Not unless it was on her own terms, and the Water Tribe princess had settled her mind long ago.
The widow faltered. “I haven’t made a formal outing since my Takuma’s death, my lady. It would be a delight, I’m sure...but I’m not quite ready for that. Please accept my deepest regrets and apologies.” She bowed.
Ursa shook her pretty head. “Nonsense, Maiko. It’s been a year since you’ve graced our presence in court. If you stay hidden, then you’re just letting the monster that walks among us see that he has won.” There was a commanding sharpness in her voice, more queenly than it was motherly, and in Yue’s head it solidified her image of the Phoenix Queen. “I expect to see you among our honored guests. You should look for a formal invitation in the coming days.”
Lady Maiko wrapped her face in the cool expression that all noblewomen took when they were displeased but unable to complain. “Of course, my Queen. It should be the greatest pleasure. Would you allow me to borrow Princess Yue to show her around my home? It would delight me greatly to give a tour of this old house.” She once again reached for Yue, whisking her away before her guardian could respond.
Yue, as it had seemed to be her path for the last year, followed. The lady Maiko made a show of pointing out every painting; some pieces of art were fantastical, depicting scenes from Fire Nation mythology. Yue took note of the abundance of dragons, the original firebenders, but it came off as rebellious, a secret protest hidden in the expert swirls of red and orange. It didn’t make sense, however. Maiko and her husband had backed the Phoenix King’s coup twenty years ago, and the widow’s loyalty seemed genuine. In another painting was a man facing down a pack of emberwolves. “I take it that the emberwolf is the sigil of your late husband?”
“Oh yes,” replied the widow. “Their clan is quite massive and widespread, even more so when you consider my grandsons.” She smiled and gestured to a family portrait. The date of completion was three years ago, showing Lady Maiko and a crow-eyed man who had been her husband. They were both seated on cushions, knees folded and hands tucked in their laps. Their shoulders touched and heads leaned into each other. Three middle aged men and a woman stood behind them, flanked by a number of younger adults who were obviously Maiko and Takuma’s descendants. “My daughter is the only one who never gave us grandchildren. My sons made up for it. They all take after their father- he was a steady, honorable man. It only burned him when he dared to speak up.”
Takuma had probably been the most honorable man on this side of the archipelago but that didn’t stop someone from slipping a devil’s plant in his food.
Yue pondered for a moment, wondered if she should seize the opportunity while she yet had the chance. “Speak up against what, my lady?”
Maiko froze, her eyes flickering as though she was suddenly afraid within her own home. “My husband was an observant man. That was how we survived the change of power, mind you. He saw the favor turning towards our Phoenix King, he saw the unrest that was brewing. My husband saw a great unsettling act of disloyalty and he attempted to speak up to the Phoenix King...before he was able to, he was killed.”
Once the veneer was scratched away, it seemed that disloyalty ran thick through the ranks of Fire Nation nobility. Someone had kept the Phoenix King’s nephew- his greatest challenger- alive and hidden away for two decades. And Yue knew that such large secrets were seldom easily kept. Perhaps this was the disloyalty that Takuma had threatened to expose- or perhaps it was something more...personal, more intimate.
“And you’re not afraid?” Yue asked.
The elderly woman scoffed and in that moment Yue was certain that she had been formidable in her prime. “Princess Yue, my eyes have never left the snake.”
When they returned to the palace, Yue was struck immediately with the sense that something was amiss. The feeling reverberated through the quartet, causing a firm line to form on Ursa’s lips while Azula uncharacteristically seemed to fidget. Zuko twiddled his thumbs and Yue realized that there was only one individual who could set them all off-kilter, the sun in which they all revolved around, the Phoenix King.
A number of the Phoenix King’s advisors, men whom Yue had seen in passing but very rarely interacted with, were roving through the main corridor, worried expressions on their normally guarded faces. Ursa reached out, caught the sleeve of one and pulled him close. “What has happened?” She demanded. “Which one of you has thrown him into a rage?”
Ozai’s advisor grimaced. “No one has offended the Phoenix King, my lady, but more news has upset him.” His eyes passed over Ursa to catch sight of Yue, as if uncertain of her loyalties. The princess resisted the urge to give a deriding snort. All of her lines of communication were effectively cut off or censored.
Ursa sighed. “Of the boy? Or the Avatar?”
The man’s expression was equally exhausted and soured, his mouth in a curdled twist. “More of the two. The boy has been seen on the path to the Capitol of Arakem.” His tone shifted to an incredulous one, mixed with uncertainty. “Our sources made mention that he was being followed by a dragon.”
“A what?” Azula interjected.
Yue had never seen a dragon beyond the illustrations in Fire Nation culture. If she were to judge by the incredulous and doubtful expressions of the royal siblings, then she would say that they were more mythical at this point than real. They had to have been real, she thought. She had read that their ancestral rulers had harnessed the power of dragons, using them as status symbols and agents of authority if they managed to connect with one. In other generations they hunted the fire breathing beasts. Regardless, if the lost boy had a dragon then he was already an immense threat.
To Ozai. Not to her.
The advisor repeated himself, though in a lower tone. There was no need for whispers, Yue thought. Ozai’s regime had weeded out disloyalty and aligned his most trustworthy closest to him. Even the servants were tightlipped even if just out of fear for their lives. “We are not yet sure of the validity of the claim, but it is for certain that the boy is headed into Arakem. He travels with four other individuals including an Arakemeti nobleman.”
“And why haven’t you intercepted him before angering our King?” Ursa snapped. “Never mind that, it shall be handled. What of the Avatar?”
“We’ve received conflicting stories of the Avatar’s identity, motives, and whereabouts. One source has said that the Avatar is a teenaged girl from the Southern Water Tribe, steadily moving towards the Eastern Air Temple. If that is the case, then we can easily intercept her and neutralize the threat.” At the mention of the Southern Water Tribe Yue felt the burning stares of the royal siblings on her back.
A teenaged girl from the Southern Water Tribe.
Katara was missing, presumed dead.
It was impossible.
“At this point, everything regarding the Avatar is a rumor. No Fire Nation source has seen her. If we were to assume that it is indeed a female. The Phoenix King has set his sights upon neutralizing the threat via interception and capture. Or destruction. He is leaning towards destruction.” The Phoenix King’s advisor cleared his throat. “If you would, my lady…”
Ursa nodded tersely. “I will see to my husband.” She swept away, pulling the advisor along with her and leaving her crowned hatchlings to stand in the wake of the news. The siblings seemed taken aback, unsure of themselves in that rare moment of weakness, and if Yue had been conniving then she would have taken that opportunity to dig her fingers between them. She would have urged them to disagree in how they would handle the unfortunate news of their cousin.
Azula would take after their father, hunt him down and tear him apart. She bore the sigil and grace of a phoenix but Yue knew her ferocity was much more primal. Zuko, with his quiet eyes and gentler disposition, would perhaps invite his cousin to compromise.
Yue wrung her hands, caught between the two. They had exchanged glances too quickly for the Water Tribe princess to decipher, a wordless exchange that she was purposely excluded from. She knew she could splinter the royal family from within; Zuko was her weak link and Ursa’s secrets had already planted the seeds of her downfall, but it was Azula whom Yue had yet to find a shortcoming. Ozai was belligerent and intimidating, Ursa quiet and cunning, and Azula was a cruelly designed amalgamation of them both. Azula had been the one to rouse her from her stupor after she killed her attacker on Ember Island and perhaps it was the fault of the Phoenix Princess to have awakened this new version of Yue.
With Azula she went.
“You know what Mother is planning, don’t you?” Sang the Phoenix Princess as she walked down the corridor. “With the debut. She’s going to marry you off to some rising star so we can keep an eye on you.” Azula looked back at Yue, her expression unreadable as her voice dropped in pitch: “It will most likely be to my brother. He has three options. You, Ty-Lee, or Mai. You should hope that he chooses you.”
“I highly doubt that your family would jeopardize your racial purity, no matter how ancient and noble my bloodline might be.” Yue responded quietly. Of course, she thought, it would forever tie the North to the Fire Nation. “Imagine, a mongrel Fire Lord.”
A fleeting glimpse of uncertainty came across Azula’s perfect features. “Better that than an untamed dragon.”
————
It was three days later when Yue found herself in the presence of the Phoenix King in one of the gardens. She was feeding the turtle ducks with Tui laying languidly at her side, nose pointed towards the water as she watched the small animals with mild interest. Yue had been left to her own devices as Zuko had cited some pressing project and Azula had not deemed it interesting to toy with her that day.
Tui was the first to take note of him, raising her head and pulling her ears back. She did not growl or show her teeth, perhaps because she knew it would forfeit her life. Over the period of time that they had been in the Fire Nation, the polar dog had filled out to her adult size. She was undeniably a beauty of the breed, strong and stiff legged with a great plume of a tail that now lashed anxiously.
The Phoenix King radiated heat. All firebenders did, as Yue had noticed. She felt it coming over her and as she turned, the Phoenix King caught her gaze with his own. His eyes were always hard, looking at her as though she was an inconvenience at best, occasionally lighting in amusement when she managed to say something clever. Yue immediately scrambled to her feet, sweeping into a bow of respect. “Forgive me, my lord. I did not see you.”
For a moment, Ozai simply eyed her, his gaze indecipherable. “I would have found it rather remarkable if you did,” he said and it took a heartbeat for Yue to realize that he was joking. “I’ve yet to meet a man with eyes in the back of his head.” He was dressed in clothing that was simple for him, decked out in splendid red and gold yet the cut of the fabric itself was modest for his standards.
Behind her the turtle ducks fled. “If my presence is displeasing, Your Grace, I will humbly remove myself from it,” Yue mewled with her head still hung, her eyes on the man’s boots.
Ozai made a sound of agitation, apparently tired of her obsequious blather. He moved past her to stand at the edge of the pond, hands clasped behind his back. Half of his black hair spilled over his broad shoulders, squared and tense. This was what Zuko would look like in the future. “Have you ever questioned why the gods did not make you a waterbender?”
Yue shook her head and upon realizing that the man could not see it, she responded verbally. “No, Your Grace. I have always figured that the gods move in ways that are beyond my understanding. For that reason I am here. For that reason, you stand where you stand.”
The Phoenix King whirled on her and in that moment Yue feared that she had overstepped, that she had forfeited her life for an ill conceived comment. She scrambled to correct, but the man just nodded. “The gods chose me for this,” he said and Yue wondered how many times he had uttered that mantra in the last twenty years. “The gods made me into this, just as they have made you as you are.”
She chose that moment to regain her footing, to chip away at the foundation of the royal family. Perhaps Zuko was not the only weak link. Perhaps she could convince the man that it would easier to let her go home. She internally kicked herself at her foolishness. It would be easier to gain the man's trust in someway or another to learn his true plans for her Tribe. “And is the way that I am pleasing to you, my Lord?” She made herself small, demure, blue eyes stretched wide. “I should hope I haven’t caused too much of an annoyance here in your palace.” Where I am kept against my will.
He analyzed her for several heartbeats, expression unchanging. He was a man, Yue thought to herself, and though he wielded unimaginable power he was still just a man. “The gods made you as you are,” he replied weightedly, “as pleasing as that is.” He sank back into his own world. “I should’ve killed that child twenty years ago.”
He meant his nephew, Yue realized and for the first time she wondered what the lost prince was like. She wondered if he possessed the same beauty of the royal family or if two decades in hiding had chipped away at him. His appearance wouldn’t matter much if he rode on the back of a dragon. “We did not learn of your brother’s son in the North when we learned of how you took power,” Yue began. “Is it true he has a dragon?”
“A dragon and a chubby indigenous wife,” snapped Ozai with palpable disdain.
Yue chose to redirect his emotions. “The Queen said she would take care of the matter...you two have reigned for many years together.”
A part of the man’s face softened. “She completes me.” He said it matter of factly, no trace of love or affection even though Yue knew it was there. It made the situation rather pitiful. The most powerful man in the world, head over heels for his whore of a wife. “Providence gave that woman to me.” He did not smile, and Yue doubted that he had ever genuinely smiled in all the years of his life, but there with the Fire lilies behind him and the pale vines of the blooming trees framing him, Yue could see why the Phoenix Queen had accepted her betrothal so readily.
“Providence has given you many things, my lord. And we shall hope that you will receive many more.” Yue played her part well.
Just as if he had called her, the Phoenix Queen appeared in the gardens. She was alone, dressed in a pale orange blossom sheath that accentuated her slim but feminine figure. Her hair was free from its topknot, her face bare even from lip color. From her neck hung a glimmering gold collar studded with rubies, the only sign of her royal status. She and Yue sized each other up in that split frame of time, not at all like Yue had held the Phoenix King’s gaze. This was woman versus woman, old and young. Mother against virgin. “Princess Yue,” Ursa said breathlessly, “when the servants told me that my husband was here, they must have forgotten to mention that you were here as well.” Her eyes traveled to her husband, clouding over with a type of wariness that the young princess did not understand. Ozai looked back at her and to Yue it seemed as though they were having a silent conversation, in which she was an involuntary intruder. Ursa looked away. She smiled tightly. “Our Lord must’ve grown tired from planning the gala with me. Princess Yue’s presence is always refreshing, of course. Well. I had hoped to keep it a secret from you, Yue my little water lily, but since you are here I simply must tell you. You will be making a Fire Nation debut alongside Azula with all the bells and whistles that entails. And while Azula has some years left, you on the other hand are past the age of betrothal.”
“Azula made some mention of it, yes.” Yue tensed.
Ursa gave a soft chuckle. “I’m sure she was not pleased. Azula has never been one for decadent celebration. Much less thrilled by the idea of a husband. I admit that even I balk at the idea of being her matchmaker. Nevertheless, I would not want to surprise you with such big decisions. The Phoenix King and I have considered bringing you into our family permanently. By engaging you to Zuko.”
Azula was right, Yue thought. Of course, Azula was always right. “I wouldn’t think you would sully your pure bloodline.”
At that the Phoenix Queen laced her arm around her husband. “Not all strong trees bear fruit,” she responded.
——
“Mai will be unhappy,” Azula said as she studied herself in the full length mirror, searching for any hair that had fallen out of place, ready to attack any wrinkle that had settled into the silk red sheath that clung to her athletic frame. “She has the personality of a waterlogged sock but she’s enamored with my brother. If it had not been for you, she would have been his bride by now. Perhaps well on the way to popping out the first broody whelp. Even though I’m not even sure if my darling Zuzu even knows how to use what the gods saw fit to give him.”
Yue looked down at her own body, wrapped in burgundy rather than the bold Fire Nation red that Azula wore. A gold belt was cinched at her waist, pushing her breasts up higher. Her hair had been raked into a Fire Nation topknot by a body servant frustrated with the thickness of Water Tribe hair. “She would have made a fine Fire Lady.” Yue was certain that after tonight the Phoenix Queen will have made many an enemy, but their star had risen so high that she would not care.
Azula sucked her teeth and Yue was uncertain if it was a sound of agreement, apathy, or disapproval. “Anyone groomed by my mother would make past queens weep. She’s horrible with money, but no one can say she’s not a good queen.” She turned to face Yue, shoulders squared as if she was about to face a horde rather than a gala. “Besides, I’m sure Mai’s family will be placated in some way.” She eyed Yue’s chest and hips. “If Mother’s plan goes accordingly, you might wear the crown but Mai will bear the children. Or child, I should say. One bastard prince will suffice.”
Yue decided to play along. “And if it were a girl?”
“The Fire Nation isn’t like your backwards chiefdom,” Azula retorted, “women have led before. Women have been greater leaders than their forefathers, one of the greatest Fire Lords of all time was a woman. She had blue flame, like me.” The dark haired princess spoke highly of her ancestor, a smile playing across her unpainted lips. “I should’ve been born first. I’m Father’s greatest dream, wrapped up in this Agni-forsaken dress .” She called for the servants waiting patiently outside of the chamber to escort them to the gala where all of the caldera’s finest families awaited the debut of the Phoenix Princess and the white haired ward.
As they drew closer, the sounds and smells of high class nobility assaulted Yue’s senses. The chatter of women and the overwhelming smell of perfume, a mixture of foreign flowers and alcohol to bind them. The Phoenix Queen had taken it upon herself to invite every elite family she could think of, and even some of the more downtrodden. Yue spotted her, dressed in a flowing gown that had captured the rich hues of the sunset, standing beside her husband the Phoenix King. Just a pace behind them was Zuko, a pained expression on his face as a number of prepubescent girls gathered around him.
The rustling of the cavernous chamber stopped as a herald boy cleared his throat and another clapped a symbol. “And now enters the Phoenix Princess Azula, daughter of Phoenix King Ozai and Phoenix Queen Ursa. And now enters the Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, Ward of the Phoenix King Ozai and the whole of the Fire Nation.” The boy announced as Azula stepped forward first, her beauty captivating the audience. She tossed her head with pride.
Yue inhaled, expanding her chest before she stepped into the light. These snakes and golden eyed demons, these murderers and imperialists, they no longer gave her fear. She could hear frenetic whispers amongst the noblewomen suddenly realizing that their daughters now faced even more competition for the position of Zuko’s betrothed. Some were already recalculating, prepared to sell their children to the royal family as the Crown Prince’s mistress. Yue gave her most brilliant smile.
“And now the fun begins,” Azula hissed as she dove into the crowd, playing at the game her mother had taught her and that under normal circumstances she refused to play. Yue veered towards Zuko, parting the sea of young girls that still harassed him.
The Crown Prince could not prevent his eyes from roving over Yue’s figure and a faint blush stained his cheeks. “You look...amazing,” he rasped, “like a goddess.” He didn’t specify which one. “My mother brought out all the stops, didn’t she?”
Yue nodded. The Hall had been decorated by the caldera’s most sought after interior designers. The head cooks had prepared three rounds of indulgent tapas circulated by smartly-dressed children while teenage servants danced through the crowd offering sweet red wine imported from Garsai. “I knew your mother had an affinity for royal celebrations...I just didn’t know she could put together something quite like this.” She took a glass of wine when offered. “This is for Azula.”
“And you, of course.” Zuko countered, watching as she drank even though he did not partake. Yue remembered the last fiasco of his drunken state in which they had both seen Ursa’s infidelity. His eyes scanned the throng of people, settling on a group of men dressed in military honors. Yue followed his gaze and her heart sank.
Commander Zhao.
The sight of the man left a bitter taste in her mouth, even though his eyes had not yet fallen on her. He, along with the other men, had formed a half circle around the Phoenix King. As if he felt Yue’s stare, the graying brute raised his head and flashed her a grin that felt more like a scowl. “Princess Yue,” his voice rang out as he outstretched his hand, beckoning her over to the group of men. Zuko followed protectively behind her, stiffening when the naval commander put his arm around the princess in a show of familiarity that was less than appropriate. At the terse look of both the Phoenix King and his son, Zhao dropped his arm. “You look as radiant as ever. A pure ice lily blooming under the Fire Nation sun.”
“It is through the generosity and kindness of my guardian that I flourish, Commander Zhao.” Yue responded acrimoniously. “It brings me great joy that you and all these other men would take a break from your duties to attend our debut. Especially being stationed away from the caldera.”
“This is more than just Azula’s debut, princess. This is a celebration. Our Phoenix King just received word that the imposter claiming to be his brother’s son was felled in Arakem by friends of the Fire Nation.”
Yue and Zuko’s heads snapped to the Phoenix King in unison. He nodded and his men all congratulated him. “That situation has been handled. Struck down by a courtesan in the second largest city in Arakem. Within a month’s time they will bring me his head.”
“Have you ever seen a Fire Nation Triumph, Princess Yue?” Inquired the Commander Zhao, determined to burrow under her skin. “When our esteemed ruler parades his dead enemies throughout the Capitol.”
“I have not, Commander,” she replied even though her mind was on the fallen prince. His murder had been too quiet to have been orchestrated by the Phoenix King. Surely this was the work of the Phoenix Queen. “I would love to see my lord and guardian celebrate his victory.” She remembered that the lost prince was reported to have a dragon and a young wife. She wondered what had become of them.
Another herald announced that the dinner was to begin. The guests were herded down the hall to be seated according to rank and standing. The Royal Family sat upon a raised dais, yet there were two seats decorated for the debutantes. The table to the left was reserved for the military men and their wives while the other tables on the level ground were carefully labeled with the family names of the guests. Yue had no doubt that Ursa had already greeted them all.
Servants began to pass around plates and utensils while others poured chalices of imported red wines. The first had been from Garsai, she was informed, but this one was the strong port from Gaoling. Yue took one sip and instantly felt her cheeks warm. Her mind fluttered elsewhere as she heard Ursa toast to her daughter and her ward, and the room roared as she announced the Phoenix King’s victory over the imposter of his nephew. She put the chalice down and took a deep breath as the first course was set before her. No one else seemed to have been strongly affected by the wine and she wondered if perhaps her Water Tribe stomach was too unaccustomed to handle it.
The light starter course sobered her enough to regain awareness of her surroundings, her mind taking notes of her enemies both actual and perceived.
Ursa, beside her husband, entertaining one of the generals.
Ozai, stoically nodding, his eyes catching hers and piercing her to her core. Yue looked away.
Zhao, already too deep in his cups, his face reddening with every sip, his gaze becoming increasingly lecherous as he eyed both the serving girls and the adolescent daughters of his peers. Someone would end up handling him by the end of the night, this Yue knew.
Zuko and Azula, heads close together. Zuko was scowling and Azula’s golden irises rose to meet Yue’s.
There was the Lady Maiko doing the same thing as Yue; scoping out her foes and allies as she hid her face behind a gauntlet. It was her first public outing since the death of her husband and one of these yellow eyed noblemen had been responsible. There is a snake in this room, Yue thought, and the Phoenix King has let the grass grow too high to find it.
Ursa produced a tiny bell from her sleeve and tinkled it. Somehow the pathetic sound managed to silence the hall until all eyes were turned towards her. “Once again I would like to thank and welcome you all to this marvelous debut,” she began, “tonight we celebrate the two gems of the Fire Nation as they enter into womanhood. My daughter, beloved princess Azula and the equally beautiful Princess Yue.” She beamed, drawing the two girls to her. “Never before have we had fire and ice here juxtaposed in this hall. Never before have we had a dynasty so strong.” Ursa grabbed Yue’s hand and thrusted it into the air. “And it shall continue to prosper! I am most pleased to announce the betrothal of Princess Yue to my son Prince Zuko.”
The confused silence that fell over the gala was thick and impenetrable. Yue did not miss the bewildered glances among the nobility, nor did the effervescent tightening of the Lady Ursa’s grip on her wrist go unnoticed. Perhaps having already been let in on the scheme, Mai’s parents were the first to applaud. Ty-Lee’s shortly followed suit. After a breath’s more hesitation the rest of the elite began to clap in approval. Yue grew light headed. So it was solidified. She was to be forever trapped in the Fire Nation, the hostage-bride. Aware that all eyes were on her, Yue once again flashed her most brilliant smile.
Someone had pushed Zuko closer to her. At the nonverbal behest of the queen, Yue reached for his wrist and linked her fingers through his. His hands had grown cool and clammy, his knuckles a grayish white. For the gossips they must appear to be two young lovers brought together by unusual circumstances. Yue rubbed her thumb across the top of Zuko’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. This was the game that Ursa had set up and this was the game they would play.
They were seated again for the main course. Ursa had strategically arranged for Yue and Zuko to sit beside each other while Azula was placed at the end of the table in full view of the most elite suitors. The servants brought out the meal on silver plates. First was roasted Komodo-chicken smothered in a fragrant sauce of crushed chili peppers and herbs, garnished with leeks. It was laid atop a bed of white rice, the steam warming Yue’s cheeks. The plate was accompanied by honeyed dates and a salad topped with a mango and apple vinaigrette. She had grown accustomed to the spice and heat of Fire Nation food and she ate with as much relish as her station would allow, pausing to take shallow sips of Gaoling port.
Somewhere at the end of the table Commander Zhao had grown increasingly rowdy, his lecherous comments now turned on to the young daughters of the noblemen attending. The soldiers around him threw fleeting glances at the Phoenix King and the queen, who had begun to boil in her seat.
“Prince Zuko!” Called out the drunken commander, waving his hand flippantly. “Perhaps you’ll be the first to find out if the Princess Yue is as wet-“
The man’s face was suddenly slammed into the table. A wave of gasps washed across the dining hall and the Phoenix King stood over Commander Zhao, having sprang from his seat with the grace of a hunting lion. Ozai yanked the man’s head up by his top-knot, his fingers wound unkindly through the other man’s hair. His nose had been broken by the impact and tendrils of blood weeped from his nostrils. “I have had enough of your blathering disrespect,” the Phoenix King hissed. “You disrespect the women of my house, you disrespect your position, and you disrespect me.” The smell of burning hair grew stronger. “And it seems to me that you should learn respect and suffering shall be your teacher.”
Ursa rose just as quickly, pulling her husband’s hand away from Commander Zhao. The drunkard slumped to the floor. “My lord,” she simpered, “this is in honor of our daughter’s coming of age and the Princess Yue’s engagement. Do not desecrate this auspicious day.” Her voice rose. “It shall be decreed that this man before you shall no longer be known as Commander Zhao. He is to be dishonorably discharged from his position, his top-knot shorn and effectively banished from the Fire Nation.” She gripped Ozai’s hand. “His return will be punished by death.”
Glances of pity fell upon the disgraced former commander. He was unconscious from Ozai’s manhandling, apart from being deeply inebriated. When he awoke he would find that he had sullied his fortune and honor for an ill-timed comment. He would return to a home of shame. A number of servants swept in to haul him away just as Ursa motioned for the ambient music to start anew.
“I should congratulate you, Princess Yue.” Lady Maiko had made her way to where the royal family sat. She rested a cordial hand on Yue’s shoulder and flashed a smile at Prince Zuko. “It seems that you have secured the hand of the most honorable man of his generation. And a handsome one to boot.”
Zuko flushed.
“Thank you, Lady Maiko.” Yue covered the elderly woman’s hand with her own, tensing as Maiko pressed her cheek against hers. In the softest of whispers, the woman said, “and now you see the snake. Quiet is the snake that brews the venoms. Quiet is the hand that sharpens the knife.”
Like a key falling into a rusted lock, Yue’s mind flooded with clarity.
Of course.
Of course.
Of course.
Someone had tipped a vial of poison into Takuma’s tea. Someone who had known his secrets just as well as he knew theirs. Someone who had everything to lose and all the power in the world available at their fingertips. Perhaps the same someone who had swiftly and silently brought an end to the lost prince. After all, who else could kill a dragon?
How poor of the girl, the little wife of the lost prince, to have been swept up so high so quickly, only to be snuffed out like the weak flame of a spent candle wick.
Yue caught Zuko’s gaze and then she began to drink. She held the chalice high to conceal the thoughts that flooded her mind, piecing together the tantalizing secrets that she had gathered in the year that she had been in the Fire Nation.
Ursa was a whore.
Ursa was a schemer.
Ursa was a murderer.
Perhaps she herself had not been the one to end Takuma’s life, or the prince’s, but she had certainly been the orchestrator. Lady Maiko knew, or had her suspicions.
From the far corners of the room came the opening notes of a flute, followed by the sure-footed pounding of a small drum. A woman’s keening vocalizations reverberated over the chatter of elite conversation, her primal sounds out of place in the room crowded with opulence and decadence and competition. Her sounds evolved into words as she began to sing. “ I sing of a man and a god, and some say they are the same. A dragon falls and a Phoenix flies on. I sing of a man and a god, how strong how tall! A Phoenix amongst men shall conquer them all!”
Yue was taken back to the North, of nights spent on the dais listening to the famed poets chanting their legends and throat singers casting their audiences into snowbound worlds of generations past. The canals had twinkled in the moonlight as the poets resurrected courageous warriors and wily villainous spirits with their words. Princesses locked in a tower of blue roses and sirens that enchanted waterbenders so that they might forget how to swim. She remembered teasing Kuruk when he cried, afraid that Mahaha would come to terrorize him in his sleep, yet she herself had shed tears whenever the song of the blind boy who grew eyes was sung. Perhaps songs and poetry were universal.
The poet, dressed in simplistic yellow, sang of the great loves of the dynasty. Of Sozin and Asura, of Azulon and Ilah, and how their love had led to the prosperity of the land. “ The sun shone on a blossoming fruit,” hummed the songstress.
“I’ve never noticed how many of these songs are about fertility,” Zuko groaned. “I suppose it’s a throwback to when the nation was constantly on the verge of famine, but spirits give it a break!” There was a red flush on his cheeks. “You know that my mother is a hopeless romantic. She’d probably planned this the moment you disembarked.”
“At least now I can stay in the palace.” Where every conversation and correspondence could be monitored, where every move she made would continue to be scrutinized. Noblewomen knew to plot with whispers, to hide behind their men and guide their feet. She made a show of grasping Zuko’s hand so that those watching would see their farce of young love. “Perhaps they’ll sing a song about us as well.”
The wine had warmed her from her core. She tried to envision her wedding night, the way that her older friends had described theirs with blushing cheeks and fluttering lashes. She had pictured a strong armed warrior, one who had painstakingly carved her betrothal necklace, one who would take her into his arms and tenderly guide her-
It might’ve been a Northern warrior. It might have even been Sokka. Sokka, where was he? She could’ve endured a marriage with him, he was kind and funny in his own strange way, handsome and with a warrior’s heart. Perhaps her life would’ve been as quiet as royalty gets, she would’ve borne two sons and a daughter and-
Yue suddenly found herself swallowing back tears.
She glowered at the Fire Nation court. I hate them, she mused bitterly. I hate them all.
She rose, sober enough that she did not stumble and politely mumbled that she desired fresh air. She made her way to one of the gardens, suddenly lost in the haze of deja vu. It had been the night of another gala, and she had been the one trailing behind a covetous Phoenix Queen. In the silver beams of the moonlight she had seen the queen’s dark secret.
She passed a domestic servant, a young woman barely older than herself, limping through the halls with red cheeks and redder eyes. When the princess stopped, the woman shook her head vehemently and the white haired girl found herself too inebriated to ask questions.
Yue inhaled the fresh air, the smell of the lilies and the ferns, and the sky above her head was dark with the new moon. Somewhere in lands unfamiliar to her wandered a lost princess who had capsized ships and further still, trailed by a dragon, was the disillusioned widow of a king whose candle had winked out too soon. The world had marched on without her while she remained insulated in the Fire Nation bubble, her only friend her jailer.
“Why is it that we always find each other in the gardens, Princess Yue?” Ursa inquired as she appeared from the darkness. “Is it where us noblewomen do battle? The men have the arenas and the battlefields and we…we have the gardens. Do you know how many treaties I have forged amongst these flowers for the good of my dynasty and my children? For twenty years I’ve cultivated these gardens and alliances, the same way I’m sure your mother did in the North. I see it in your eyes, you are the daughter Azula should have been. A daughter who knows and who listens to more than just the sounds of war.” Her expression was a sullen one. “I would’ve enjoyed seeing how Lu-Ten had grown, but it had to be done. If he had turned Arakem against Ozai…”
If the lost prince had swayed the powerful kingdom of Arakem then undoubtedly others would have followed. The twenty year iron grip that Ozai held on the Earth Kingdoms would have eroded and turned to dust, fueled by the winds of change that the Avatar would carry.
“Takuma’s death was a necessity too, was it not?” Yue responded. She held her breath.
For her credit, Ursa appeared unfazed. “It was. He and Lady Maiko were valuable assets in those turbulent years. It was a pity that Takuma never learned that there were times to be honorable and times to turn a blind eye.” She sighed and lifted her eyes skyward, the greenish flaw glinting in the half light. “He was loyal to the dynasty, never afraid to be stern, never afraid to do what I asked of him in order to keep peace in the palace, never afraid to…have you heard of widow’s tears, Princess? It’s quite colorless and tasteless. Undetectable in a cup of brewed tea.” Yue trained her face to remain still, to seem unalarmed by the non-sequitur.
Ah, a confession.
Yue, too deep in her cups, laid a fragile familiar hand on Ursa’s cheek. The queen froze as their eyes met and Yue leaned in so close that their lips might touch. Ursa did not move nor did she fidget. “You,” Yue fought to keep the slur and stutter out of her voice, “are a whore. And if you’re so shameless as to openly commingle with the gardener, who knows what else …what else you might do.” She swallowed a hiccup. “Tell me, is he the same one from Hira’a?”
Ursa had steeled over. A cool smile spread across her lips as she covered Yue’s hand with her own, leaning her head in so that to any passers-by it might appear that they were a beloved mother and daughter-in law. “Oh Princess Yue, haven’t you grown? Such an observant girl.” Her voice froze over, glacial and vicious enough to slice through the air. “You’re right. Who knows what else I might do?”
Lady Ursa was the snake. She was the one who had arranged for the Arakemeti to kill the upcoming orphaned prince. She was the one who had pulled the strings and tipped poison into Takuma’s tea when he learned too much about her wrongdoings. She had done the same to the courtier who had seen too much and had a voice that resonated too loudly. She was the one who guided Ozai with a cool hand, steering him to power and steering him away from whatever nasty truths she held close to her heart.
Gardens were where noblewomen waged war. They cast their lot with fans and flowers, built their armies with each invitation and sank dynasties the way a navy sank ships. The Phoenix King’s household was beginning to splinter.
“It will be you or me, Yue,” the queen murmured. “I suggest you choose wisely.”
“Lady Ursa,” Yue answered, “I’ve already chosen.”
Chapter 42: The Land of the Ice that Never Melts
Notes:
Probably one of my favorite chapters that I’ve written in the whole fic
Chapter Text
Hahn
Even when he closed his eyes, he saw Tikaani’s face and the gaping, seeping red ruin of her throat. They had left her there, lying in the snow after Tonraq had laid her down with the tenderness one would give their daughter. Despite his clear anger at having been lied to for four years, he had gently brushed her long hair away from her face and laid her hands over each other. He had settled her little body in a way where the predators of the wilderness would not find her and desecrate her icebound grave. Hahn had found himself glancing back frequently through the blinding snow, half expecting Squid( Tikaani, she/he would always be Squid) to come loping up behind him with the jovial toothy smile Hahn had grown so accustomed to seeing. His stomach turned at Squid’s last confession and the implications that brought bile to his throat. Her father had hurt her in the way that no father should hurt their daughter, in the way no man should hurt a child. The tortured girl had gotten her revenge at the expense of her life.
The rest of the men watched him warily as they trudged deeper into the Land of the Ice that Never Melts. The Chief Commander set a brutal pace through the forever falling snow. They slept for only a few hours at a time and in turns, two men keeping vigil in case foul-things decided to prey on them once again. Hahn existed in a haze from exhaustion, mutely putting one foot in front of the other. He dared not sleep out of fear he would hear Squid’s desperate pleading, green blue eyes wet with tears, and hear the pain of her unsteady voice. Why had he let her die? Were they not friends? Had he not met Squid’s mother?
Silence is complacency, his father would say, inaction is agreeance.
One of the polar dogs nipped at his heels to keep him in pace with the others. Hahn quickened his steps, seeing the supply line grow further and further away from him. Tanrik was the closest to him, looking back at him every few minutes. Hahn resisted the urge to glare at the man. He was the one who had incited anger amongst the group. Had he kept his mouth shut, Hahn perhaps could have convinced the Chief Commander to keep Tikaani alive. An extra set of hands in the Far North would have served better than a frozen corpse.
“You want to ride in the wagon for a bit, Three?” Nukak asked, lingering behind. He rode atop a wooly reindeer and dogs trotted behind the beast. Nunak was not terribly old, probably in his earliest forties, and of the older men Hahn found him to be one of the more tolerable. He had never asked why the man had been banished to the Ice Wall; he seemed decent enough, though most of the men did. Some were coarser than others, but it was hard to imagine that his comrades were once the scum of society. At some point he had begun to consider them his friends and his brothers in arms. “You look like you’re about to keel over at any second.”
Hahn shook his head but Nunak grabbed his arm anyway, hauling him up into the wooly reindeer behind him. Hahn, despite himself, slumped forward. Nunak cleared his throat as he steered the reindeer towards one of the supply wagons at the end of the train. He waited until they were out of earshot of the closest men before speaking: “I’m worried about you. You’ve half eaten and half slept since…since Squid.” Nunak had turned his head to purposely look into the distance. “I was fond of the wild little bastard, too. But he knew the laws of the land. Or she, rather. It was a miracle it took so long for the secret to come out.”
Hahn ground his teeth. “In her last moments, she told me the whole truth about her crime and why she killed her father-”
Nunak held up a hand. “No need to say any more. She’s not the first, and unfortunately won’t be the last. Some men don’t deserve to breathe air. We might be a sorry lot up here, but I know for a fact that none of these men have ever stooped so low. All I can say is I hope she finally found peace.” His voice cracked almost imperceptibly and he swallowed hard. “The best you can do is hope for the same.”
“It’s not fair.” Hahn’s voice betrayed him and Nunak swiveled in the saddle to look at him. “I didn’t think…I never thought…” He struggled to find the words. All this time, he realized, he had been sheltered from the darker parts of mankind. His parents had loved him and his brothers and given the best they could for each of them as children. They had thought that sending him to the Ice Wall was a way to make a name for himself as a lowly third son. He could not fathom a childhood so terrible, so traumatizing that the only hope for escape was to deny his true identity. Squid had lived a better life as a gap-toothed boy. Nunak wrapped his free hand around Hahn’s in a fraternal gesture and nodded once in understanding.
They pulled up beside the cart that was being guarded by Kennik. Wordlessly the gray haired man helped Hahn up and into the bed of the wagon, watching as he settled between the crates of rations. Hahn pulled his hood up to serve as a pillow and laid back, staring up at the gray sky. They were passing under ice-laden trees. His eyes grew heavier and heavier until at last Hahn found himself in a blessedly dreamless sleep.
When he awoke it was to the Chief Commander shaking his shoulder. The man’s stern face hovered over him. Hahn could see that it was nightfall. It had finally stopped snowing. Tonraq’s breath could be seen like white clouds. “You’ve slept long enough,” the older man said gruffly, though not as harshly as he could have. “Eat and then go sit vigil in one of the trees.” He jumped down from the stationary wagon and waited as Hahn unsteadily did the same. It was about as much sympathy as the man could offer. Hahn trailed him to where Nunak was dishing out rations in carved out wooden bowls. He dumped a serving of half cold meat and bread into the bowl before passing it to Hahn.
He found a log that wasn’t covered in snow and sat down, taking slow deliberative bites. It was wooly reindeer meat, which wasn’t bad, even though he shot glances at the other animals that were tied together to a cluster of trees. The buffalo-yak were lashed to another, unhitched from the wagons for the night. The other men had gathered in a tight circle and were spreading out their sleeping tents to settle in for the night. Dried wood had been arranged to keep a fire alight. He bit into the meat and then the bread in a meticulous pattern, staring into the void. He finished, setting the bowl aside and took his post at the edge of the campsite with an extra fur cloak and scarf, armed with a dagger, ice amulet, and spear. The complete protection ensemble, he thought with embittered amusement. A knife for animals, ice for foul-things, and a spear for barbarians.
The other men disappeared into the tents and the campfire dimmed into a dull glow. Even the dogs had curled up with one another, their thick tails draped over their noses. Hahn found himself alone with his own thoughts, which were thankfully not plagued with horrors. He stared out into the frigid darkness, watching for shadows and scanning the area whenever he heard a twig snap.
Just a snow squirrel.
Just a rabbitfox. Three, actually. A vixen and her two cubs hopping along, the tips of their stubby tails visible and then not. It was a new moon and its poor lighting cast long shadows and painted the snow and ice in a silvery sheen. Hahn was acutely aware of something else watching him curiously from between the trees, its gaze inquisitive rather than predatory. He held his breath. A spirit or a wolf? The creature stared at him for what felt like hours, its contemplative observance piercing his spine. Hahn refused to turn around.
The sun rose weakly through the trees, pathetically dim and gray. It could hardly be called dawn at all. Tonraq was the first to awake, crawling out of his tent and stretching loudly. Hahn turned to look at him through hooded eyes of fatigue and the Chief Commander crossed the distance between them. “You didn’t call out for anyone to relieve you,” he said by way of greeting. “You spent the whole night awake?”
Hahn dared not tell him that he had refused to move due to the fact that he had the sensation of being watched. He nodded dumbly. “I figured everyone else needed the rest. I slept half the day away besides.” He raised his face to the sky. “When will the sun rise?”
The Chief Commander’s frown deepened. “It won’t. We are almost at the true North Pole. At this time of year the sun won’t rise any higher than where it is now. Soon we will be in perpetual darkness.” The man reached out and put his hand on Hahn’s shoulder. Hahn was reminded of his first encounter with the Chief Commander, dangling precariously over the edge of the wall. A haunted look came over Tonraq’s countenance. “From here on out, boy, you must have a strong mind. The spirits here will drive you mad…they will do what they can to destroy you from the inside out. Stay firm.”
“Why are we here?” Hahn inquired finally, the question having burned in his mind for days. They could have harvested months worth of ice further south, closer to the Ice Wall. Up here the forests were dense and the ground was brittle and cold. Rivers were bridges of pure ice.
The other men began to stir. The Chief Commander sighed with a heartbroken resignation. “The ice will only save us for so long. The spirits are angry. We must appease them for a while longer. I chose only the bravest of you all, the ones with the most fortified minds. There is no sunlight here. No dawn. Just darkness and despair. Keep together. Hold the hands of your brothers if you must. Do not let the madness of the night take you.” He turned away from Hahn, leaving the younger man baffled by his words.
His mind reeled. The ice, he realized, was only a small part of the excursion. No wonder the Chief Commanded had pushed them further and further north. Appeasement . A thousand ideas coursed through his head. What lay at the North Pole that was so important? A year ago Hahn would have preened himself with pride at being chosen. Now he felt only a pit in his belly that grew wider and heavier the more they went on. Hahn felt as though he had aged twenty years in one month. Hasook and Nilu had emerged victorious in the end. Hahn knew deep within that he would return home a different man. There was no pride in this. Perhaps honor, but honor could be found amongst the warriors of the Tribe. Honor could be found fighting for his country. Honor could be found elsewhere, defending young girls from their fathers, defending wives from their husbands. Hahn packed up his gear. He had an extra set of gloves and boots, and a parka that had come from Squid’s supplies. Squid’s bone dagger fit uncomfortably in his belt.
‘This is the one I used to slit his throat, right after-”
Hahn banished the thoughts from his mind.
He assisted in loading up the wagons and hitching the animals to them. Kennik offered him a wooly reindeer saddle and Hahn accepted the tack gratefully. He caressed the animal’s muzzle as he dressed her, rubbing the spot between her ears and antlers. He found himself pressing his face in the thick shaggy coat, breathing in the musky scent. “Have steady feet, girl,” he whispered and climbed up into the saddle.
Tonraq had mounted a reindeer as well, his fur lined hood obscuring his face. He had wheeled around to face the convoy. “From this point onward you will not see the sun.” Hahn had heard the words earlier, but they shook him all the same. “You are only a few days' march away from the true North Pole. There is no sun. Humanity does not dwell in these parts. Only evil, only darkness.” Hahn saw a few men shift uncomfortably. “I implore you all to remember the camaraderie that you have formed over the years. Lean on one another. The darkness will try to take you. Remember that we have a mission and though the Tribe does not appreciate us, we owe them a duty.” The Chief Commander captivated them all with his intense stare. “There is a strong chance that not all of us will return from this mission. But in this, there is honor for the honorless.”
They set off in the uneasy quiet. Hahn found it increasingly difficult to see in the half-light. The other men were nervous, jittery and the chief’s nephew’s speech had done little to placate them. They strung up lanterns that barely lit the path in front of them. Tonraq rode up and down the line. Not for the first time Hahn admired the man’s leadership. For the first six months of his time at the Ice Wall, the Chief Commander had hated him. In retrospect Hahn could understand. He had arrived smug and self-centered with no regard for true hard work. He had never seen war, nor death. He had never not experienced the love of his parents. The calluses that formed on his palms were a testament to the brutal lessons taught at the edge of civilization, the scars and bruises that came from climbing and cutting.
Tonraq had even warmed up to him, at least as much as the man could warm up to anyone. In that moment Hahn had never felt so proud to follow him into the unknown.
The sun rose to its zenith, barely a quarter ways into the sky, just as they reached a frozen river. It was so wide that Hahn could barely see the other bank, and the trees were little more than green-black specters. Though it was midday, Hahn could see a spattering of stars forming a milky white line in the sky. There was no breeze, only stillness.
Something was watching them.
The waterbenders looked to their leader for guidance. The Chief Commander remained motionless, his boots set firmly in the ground. The dogs were still, hackles raised. One of them whined restlessly. Tonraq raised his amulet and Hahn felt his own against his chest begin to throb and pulse. A foul-thing was near. Perhaps not like the ones that had burst through the ground and been responsible for Squid’s death, but just as vile. Hahn lifted the necklace high and began to wait.
A wolf emerged from the trees. Its hide was a deep violet, speckled with white constellations, and its eyes were an uncannily intelligent amethyst. It sat on its haunches in front of them, tail wrapped around its paws. “These ones are brave but foolish.” Piqatok, Hahn remembered. She had changed forms. “These ones hope to appeal to the higher spirits. How, I wonder? How , how, how?” She padded around them, shoulders low and head ducked. Her eyes never left them. “I advise these ones to turn around. The other spirits are not as kind nor as tolerant of mortal flesh.” Before them she shifted into a beautiful young siren, her purple hair covering her nudity. The cold did not affect her. “Go back to your hovels.” She approached the Chief Commander, repelled by the magic of the ice. “Unless these ones wish to join the other fools. Your pitiful little icicles will not protect you from the spirit-gods. Only the foul-things.”
Hahn clenched his teeth. There will be no Divide , her voice resonated in his skull. The gods would pierce through the spirit portals and clear the earth. Stopping them, or even slowing them was a fool’s errand. Piqatok whipped her head around to stare at him. The sun and moon will fall into discord . She smirked at him and then she metamorphosed into a wolf once more, loping away back in the direction from which she had come. As the collective the men exhaled, falling against one another.
The sun and moon will fall into discord.
The sun and moon will fall into discord.
He began to formulate the puzzle in his head. The ice of the Far North repelled the foul-things from attacking humans. The foul-things were the army of the spirit-gods who sought to destroy humanity. The spirit-gods were biding their time, awaiting the opportune moment to wreak havoc upon the world. The opportune moment, the epiphany came to him suddenly, was when day and night fell out of balance.
“An eclipse!” He cried out and his comrades turned to face him. “We have to stall them before an eclipse!”
Tonraq nodded solemnly and Hahn wondered how much the man really knew. He was too familiar with the machinations of the spirit realm. “Those who have come before, and who have been aware of the threat to our race have been charting the stars. They predict that a solar eclipse will come within the next few years. No one is sure of when. It has been my hope, the hope of all the Chief Commanders before me, that we can buy the world more time. At least until the Avatar returns and saves us all.”
“And if he doesn’t?” Nunak called out.
The Chief Commander was grim. “Then we all die.”
Hahn’s ears rang incessantly. His knees buckled involuntarily and he saw that several others had done the same. A couple were retching in the snow. There was no sympathy from the Chief Commander, but Hahn had studied the man long enough to know that grief was rippling across his countenance. Their mission would ultimately be in vain.
But at least they could try.
They could try.
Silence is complacency. Agreeance is silence.
Hahn was the first to stand. His boots crunched in the compacted snow. The effervescent tinkle of the ice in the branches overhead grew louder. He turned toward his leader and saluted him with new resolve. And then he followed Tonraq into the growing darkness.
On the fifth day after they encountered Piqatok, the girl, they awoke in a dark gray dimness. The sun had at last abandoned them. The cold had ameliorated, or perhaps Hahn had finally grown accustomed to the perpetual chill that numbed his toes and fingers even through his gloves. The animals were increasingly anxious. It took two men to wrangle each wooly reindeer into submission and the dogs were leashed together after they began barking and baying without pause. Under his parka the hairs on Hahn’s arms were on end. The Far North felt wrong. They were unwelcome and unwanted here. The forest, dense and impregnable, was a wall of blackish purple against the pale ice. The convoy moved sluggishly, worn down by the trek so far away from home. Hahn longed for the warmth of the barracks and food other than miserly rations that seemed to dwindle each day.
Even Tonraq was unsettled, gray blue eyes skittish, searching the leaves for threats unseen. Taavik, the second youngest of the group before Hahn, clung to him. He had never interacted with the boy, finding him too aloof for his tastes. Boisterous Squid had always absorbed all of the attention. “I want to go home,” Taavik whispered to him. “I don’t like it up here.”
Home was the Ice Wall. Hahn reached for the boy’s mitten with his own and gave him a squeeze. “Me too,” he whispered back, “me too.”
Time had become an illusion. Hahn could no longer differentiate day from night. He slept fitfully, even more so than the days right after Squid’s death. The others were irritable as well, arguing just as often as they held on to one another. The Chief Commander looked on worriedly.
Do not let the madness of the night take you .
Hahn held on to Taavik relentlessly. “If you feel scared, don’t let my hand go. I’m real. You’re real. And we’re going to get home. Trust me.”
Taavik faced him, and Hahn could see streaks in the half-light from tears on his cheeks. Taavik couldn’t be more than eighteen or nineteen, barely older than Squid. He forced a smile and Hahn forced one in return, portraying himself as braver than he felt. They could not pray to the spirits, not when it was the spirits who were out to destroy them. “I trust you.” Taavik’s voice shook. “I trust you.”
On the tenth day, one of the dogs disappeared into the wilderness and never returned. He had broken away from the leash and tore off into the perpetual night. The handlers had not bothered to call out or pursue him. He was as good as dead, it was known, and who knew what foul beast would return wearing his skin?
A day after, Kennik laid down in the snow and refused to go on. He wept, curled up in a fetal position, trembling and whispering fiercely to himself. They could not rouse him from his stupor. “ They’re in my mind,” he whimpered through his quiet sobs, “ they’re in my mind!” His voice rose to a high pitched wail, wordless cries that unsettled the sane souls around him.
The Chief Commander knelt at Kennik’s side, taking hold of his hand and pressing his other hand against Kennik’s cheek. He stared down at him. “Fight them,” he exhorted, “and go on. Fight them !”
Kennik’s eyes streamed and Hahn could see the whites of them, stretched wide with madness. His sobs regressed into choking as he grasped and beat at Tonraq’s hands in turns, thrashing his head against the frozen ground. Tonraq held him firm. “Help me,” he begged pitifully. “Help me.”
Other than Kennik’s despair and pleading, the forest was eerily quiet. Even the sound of snow underfoot was muted. Hahn felt as though his head was underwater. Kennik writhed on the ground, tearing his arms away to tear at his hair and face, having torn holes in his mittens. His fingernails left heinous red trails down his cheeks. Hahn suddenly was nauseous at the idea of the foul-things not only torturing them physically but mentally as well. The North did not want them here. They did not belong.
Hahn felt his throat tighten and Taavik gripped his forearm. The Chief Commander refused to look away.
At last Kennik stilled, his gaze in some other dimension, plagued by foul-things and demons that only he could see. The chief’s nephew stood. “Leave him,” he commanded, voice hard.
“Tonraq-” Nunak was silenced with a glare.
“Leave him.” He repeated and cleared his throat.
And then they pressed on.
Fifteen days (perhaps, maybe? Hahn was no longer sure) after Piqatok’s appearance, they reached what Hahn could only describe as an oasis. The sun was still gone, but the trees had at last fallen away. They arrived at the base between two sky-piercing mountains whose peaks were capped with treacherous ice. There was no snow. The ground was dark with grass. It was warm, almost uncomfortably so after trekking so long in the cold. Hahn caught the sound of a flowing river.
There was no sunlight, but in the sky Hahn could see the rest of the world and the heavens beyond.
It was almost blinding after being immersed in gray for so long. The aurora rippled across the sky, streaks of red and spirals of green, interlaced with curtains of yellow and blue pulsed overhead. The oasis was still. It danced over their skin, highlighting his comrades in a spectrum of light. In between the flickering Northern Lights was a disjointed line of stars that stretched at the edges, innumerable stars and constellations illuminating the horizon. The twin mountains seemed both pathetically small and impossibly large underneath the phenomenon.
Dumbstruck, Hahn was aware of tears falling from his eyes. Never had he seen something so beautiful. Never had he experienced something that seemed to call out to his flesh and blood and bones and soul so strongly. This was the North. This was what his ancestors had seen millennia ago when they settled at the poles. He sank to the ground, hands atop his head in awe.
The Chief Commander had removed his hood. He raised his head to take in the breathtaking sight, his hands extended as if to touch the sky. For the first time Hahn saw the man laugh. A genuine, gleeful laugh that erupted from his throat, having formed deep in his belly. Tonraq dropped to his knees and then into a kowtow, shoulders shaking as his laughter continued. The sounds turned into sobs of relief. Hahn watched the chief’s nephew as he rose up from the prone position with his arms open in a gesture of prayer. “The Seat of the Demiurge,” he whispered and then louder, “we have reached the Seat of Demiurge.”
At their collective confusion, Tonraq pointed at the aurora and the sprawling galaxy. “Thousands of millennia ago, when the spirit-gods created the earth, they first crafted the poles. At the true lines of polarity they created portals that would open and close, allowing spirits out and mortals in. We as men were once able to transverse the universe. Over time, we enraged the spirit-gods and they locked us out of their realm. Only the Avatar, the great balancer, could transcend the boundaries.” He inhaled deeply. “A similar portal exists in the South Pole. But this, this is the true Seat of the Demiurge.” With the display behind him, Tonraq seemed almost godly himself. “At the precipice is the portal.”
“What do we do now?” Hahn asked. Now that they had arrived, what goal was there? Bow before the spirit-gods and plead their case? “Are the foul-things able to get to us here?”
The Chief Commander shook his head with uncertainty. “I do not know. None of the chiefs or Chief Commanders have ever written about what happens after they arrive here. We shall assume what we have always done and take turns as sentries. Set up camp. I will take the first watch.”
Hahn saw no bones, which meant they had either succeeded or made it back home.
They set the task of unhitching the animals and unrolling their sleeping tents. Nunak struck up a fire with the precious kindling they had left. Taavik pitched his tent beside Hahn’s. He had grown increasingly clingy after Kennik’s (presumed) death. He was still a man of few words, though he spoke of his life before he had been exiled. He had grown up an orphan, living off the welfare nets that the Tribe provided, and turned to thievery as he grew. He had robbed an influential man and off to the wall he was sent. He had left behind a girl whom he had intended to make his wife and he had never relinquished the betrothal necklace he had carved for her.
Hahn had no girl waiting for him, not yet at least. He settled within his chrysalis of furs and breathed in the air of the oasis, closing his eyes against the brightness of the Northern Lights.
He dreamt of Tikaani, but now she was a girl. She was spinning carefree through the snow, her hair flying wildly about her face and her grin was one of childish, unadulterated joy. She was wearing an anorak trimmed with indigo. Hahn had never seen such freedom. She might have been pretty if she had been born into a more loving family. She was dancing on one of the bridges over the canals in the capital, singing a song that Hahn could hear but not decipher the words. He found himself smiling.
He crossed the distance between them, standing at the edge of the bridge. Tikaani danced on, her feet as light as they always were, her reflexes just as refined. In this fantasy she had been able to use her natural gift peacefully, as opposed to dodging fists and breaking noses. “Squid?”
She did not know him. In this life she had always been Tikaani.
Hahn called out her name and she stopped abruptly.
She was staring through him, but her smile was just as warm. Hahn went to her, arms outstretched. He had not known her, not in this life, but he missed Tikaani all the same.
She ran towards him, morphing into the boy that he recognized, and threw his arms around Hahn. “Three!” He called out gleefully. He was wearing the same clothes he had on the expedition, his hair bound by a dark blue ribbon. He grinned toothily, gap just as Hahn remembered. There was a puckered but healed scar across the width of his throat. Hahn took a second glance and the scar was gone. “Three! Look, we’re finally back from that Ice Wall. Wanna do something stupid with me?”
Hahn made a step to follow him and then paused. Something, he knew in his core, was amiss. “Squid…look at me.”
The older boy turned on his heels. “Yes?”
His eyes were black.
Squid’s eyes were a greenish blue, large and expressive.
Hahn shoved Squid away from him and took off in the opposite direction, his legs weighed down. When he looked down, he saw that ghastly decayed hands had appeared from the waters of the canal, tearing at his boots and his pants. Dead things in the water clawed their way up, eyes black and lifeless, half rotten. They were his people, blistered by the cold and fire, moaning in infinite pain from whatever had been inflicted upon them. He screamed, using one foot to dislodge them and over his shoulder he saw Squid-Not Squid barreling towards him. “No! No! No!” The apparition was smiling, revealing sharpened teeth. Dread filled Hahn’s belly. “I’m asleep! I’m asleep!”
“That doesn’t matter,” Squid-Not Squid chuckled darkly. “We are here. In your dreams. In the earth, in your every waking thought until. You. Leave!” He flew at Hahn, claws outstretched to tear into him. “You should have listened to Kennik, my friend.”
Sobbing in terror, Hahn kicked the last of the disembodied hands away from him and ran desperately to where the oasis that he knew held the pond of the Koi fish spirits Tui and La. He prayed that they had not abandoned him. Please! Please, hear me just this once.
The city of his birth seemed impossibly large, more expansive than Hahn had ever known. The streets seemed to stretch on forever and the foul-thing following him seemed to never tire. Its face had contorted into a vicious, ravenous sneer. He pumped his legs harder, running underneath the shadow of the palace of the Koi Fish that had begun to crumble and melt. As he watched, a once beautiful spire broke and fell to the ground with a resounding crash.
At last he reached the entrance of the oasis, stumbling into the warm green space. Statues of the moon and ocean spirits lined the entrance, their eyes aglow. Hahn could see the sacred pond in which Tui and La swam.
Squid-Not Squid latched a hold on his hood, yanking him backwards. Hahn sprawled in the grass, curling into a ball with his arms over his head and face. The foul-thing wrenched his arms away and pinned them to his sides, staring down at him with immortal contempt. Hahn could not contain his cries. “Until you leave, one by one, you will all fall.”
“You’re not real!” Hahn reached for an icicle that was hanging from a statue, breaking it off with his fingers.
Squid-Not Squid giggled in a voice that was a crude imitation of the real one. “I will destroy you.”
“No you won’t!” Hahn thrusted the ice shard up and into the spirit’s gaping maw, rolling out the reach of its grasping talons. The sudden darkness of the oasis of the capital and the moonless night sky left him scrambling for solid ground. He launched himself to his feet, only to be dragged back by the screeching creature.
Hahn tore one arm free and grabbed the amulet around his neck. He held the Koi fish up, its violet and indigo light shining through the night, and then slammed it into the foul-thing’s chest with a fortitude he didn’t know he had. “Get away from me!” He roared and rolled out of the way as the creature retched black blood and bile, its body disintegrating. Hahn struggled to catch his breath, tucking the necklace back into his shirt with trembling hands. He blinked.
And then he was awake, gasping for air in his tent at the foot of the mountains that guarded the spirit portal. His eyes roved over the tight space. He slapped himself and patted his belly, his arms, his chest. He felt for the necklace and found it still there.
The rest of the camp was quiet except for the sound of snoring and the crackle of the fire. Hahn wrapped his arms around his torso, intent on making himself as small as possible. He bit down on his mitten to stifle the sound, and then he wept. He wept for what felt like hours, like days, like years until his eyes were spent and his chest hurt from heaving. Finally he crawled out of his tent, finding Tonraq seated at the edge of the camp with his back to them, gazing up at the Northern Lights. His form was illuminated by the aurora, casting dark shadows across the snow-less grass. Imiqi and Black Fang were at his side.
“You have a fortified mind,” the Chief Commander hadn’t turned, but Hahn knew that he sensed him. “I was right to bring you.”
“The foul-things…they used imagery of Squid to get to me…and then there were hands in the water, hands everywhere.” Hahn swallowed. “I understand what Kennik experienced now. They will come for all of us and we flee. Or until we die.” He sat down beside his commander. “What do we do now?”
Tonraq said nothing for a long time. “We go up the mountain,” his voice was low. “And stop them. Or stall them, at least.” He was stiff, countenance chiseled from stone. “Only one of us should go. It will be treacherous both mentally and physically. I…cannot afford to lose another man.” (He could not bear to lose another man Hahn knew) “I will go.” It would be noble of him, a scion of the ancient dynasty of Koi fish sacrificing his life to save the world entire. They would sing songs of him for generations. They would venerate him.
Hahn put his hand on the Chief Commander’s shoulder. “No,” he proclaimed with conviction. “ I’ll go.”
The older man sputtered, caught for once completely off guard. Hahn was reminded of that time, well over a year ago, when he had first arrived at the Ice Wall. The Chief Commander had held him over the edge of the wall and forced him to face reality. How the tables had turned. Upon the same realization, a sardonic smile came across Tonraq’s weather-worn features. “Perhaps we made something out of you, after all.”
Hahn allowed himself to grin back. “Didn’t want all your efforts to go to waste, yeah?” He sobered. “If I don’t…if I don’t make it home, let my parents know I died making them proud. Tell them I died a warrior’s death.”
“You have my word,” Tonraq swore and they gripped each other’s forearms in the Water Tribe salute. Tonraq pulled him in and patted him hard on the back, stepping back and giving Hahn a nod of respect.
The young Northern Water Tribe warrior focused on the two mountains that protected the spirit portal. From the corner of his eye he saw Tonraq walk away from him. He returned, holding his hands out. Balanced upon his palms was a warrior’s spear, decorated with the molted feathers of a snow hawk. Its shaft was black striped with dark blue, and the spearhead was made of glass. Not glass, ice. The magical ice glittered like a diamond. Tonraq knelt as he presented the spear to Hahn. The significance was unequivocal. Hahn’s fingers lingered over the spear before he held it, staring down in fascination.
The chief’s nephew’s hands wavered. “This is the spear of Avatar Kuruk, the last Water Tribe Avatar. He was the one who created the Ice Wall to keep man and spirit separate in the physical realm. He kept it at the Ice Wall, ordering that every Chief Commander keep it hidden until the time to use it comes.” Tonraq’s gray blue eyes never left the weapon. “He infused this spear with super-charged ice and a drop of his own blood. With this spear, Hahn, you can kill a spirit-god.”
It felt like blasphemy, like sacrilege coming from the man’s mouth. Hahn felt like a heretic just hearing the words. He was a mortal man. How could he even approach a spirit-god to get close enough to kill it?
“If this is too much for you, if you change your mind, there will be no shame. I am grateful for your bravery. Tell me now, and you will be celebrated all the same.” Tonraq moved to take the spear back and Hahn tightened his grip.
“No,” the young warrior protested. “I said I will go.” He held the staff of the weapon in his hand, feeling the weight of it. It was taller than he was and heavier than he’d anticipated. He touched his forehead in deference to his commander.
They stood before each other as equals in that moment. Hahn no longer felt like the cocky, self-absorbed child he had been when he first arrived. Tonraq no longer seemed like the callous man who hated him for no reason. They had ventured into a void of darkness together, and Hahn would go on alone into the night.
The Chief Commander turned away from him as Hahn began to break down his tent and gather his meager belongings. He set the spear against a nearby tree. Imiqi wound between his legs, whining anxiously and Hahn knew she would follow him. Where she was once Tikaani’s, she was now his.The other men stirred and emerged from their own sleeping areas, rubbing at the sleep in their eyes and kneeling next to the fire to warm their hands. They set up a breakfast line, warming the last of their pigcow stew. Taavik took the lead distributing breakfast, nodding solemnly to each of his brethren. Hahn accepted his portion and sat amongst the men who had become his brothers, who he had learned to value just as he did Hasook and Nilu. He ate slowly, savoring each bite.
As they finished, Tonraq cleared his throat. They turned to face him. “From this point, the journey will only be one man’s. Hahn has volunteered himself to ascend the mountains to the Seat of the Demiurge and plead our case.” He looked at him. “He is a warrior in every sense of the word.”
Nunak put his fist in the air. “Hahn!”
Taavik was next, and then Milo, and Brass Fist and Yasuné and Loose Tooth and Green Eye. Hahn’s name rose up like a battle cry, shaking the earth and the trees until even the dead knew his name. They gathered around him as he stood, passing him his supplies and marking his face with symbols of the warriors. The boy and his dog were swathed in the warmth of voices of respect. The lowly third son had a name. Tonraq handed him the spear.
Hahn stared up at the aurora, red and green and yellow, and the bridge of the realm just out of reach, and then he took a step forward.
Chapter 43: The Badgermole
Chapter Text
Sokka
Trains were, by far, the best thing Sokka had ever seen in his life. One way or another he would build a rail line network in the South Pole even if it took him twenty years. The rail lines from Omashu to Taku spread out in three directions, a collaborative effort between the Southern Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdoms, and the Fire Nation(surprisingly, but then again not). The iron ore from the South Pole was refined and developed in the Earth Kingdoms and the trains were powered by coal from the archipelago. Engineers and scholars from the University of Ba Sing Se had come together to streamline both the rails and the locomotives themselves, and it was only ten years ago when the first train- apt named the Terragyral, made its maiden trip from Laogai to Taku. Since then, Ba Sing Se had developed its own intercity rail system and the capital of Garsai was not far behind. Sokka stared in awe as the massive locomotive pulled into the station in the capital of the city state of Gaoling, letting out a dragon’s breath of smoke that billowed pungent and black into the sky. The entire train, and the second that would soon arrive behind, transported animals, weaponry, supplies, and soldiers drawn from all over Omashu, all of them answering to him . If he sounded the call, he could have easily pulled another twenty-five thousand battle ready men from the South Pole, but every man was another line of defense and precaution he dared not remove.
It had taken almost two months to rally the men and military supplies for the effort, during which King Bumi had elucidated the concerted campaign against the Phoenix King that had been twenty years in the making. It had been expedited after the murder of Sokka’s father after it was determined that Ozai was an increasingly volatile wild card. Another sect of the Order of the White Lotus had been working to install the Bird King’s nephew on the Fire Nation throne.
Too bad, Sokka thought. The man was dead, assassinated in Arakem by one of his uncle’s cronies.
The capital of Gaoling was by far the cleanest city Sokka had ever seen. The streets were paved with swept sidewalks and green-streaked white stone. The women wore pale pink and gentle mint green, hair styled in thick, high buns. They trotted about with parasols, staring with wide eyes and wider mouths at the Water Tribe warriors and the never ending stream of Omashian soldiers. It was like wearing a bright green target on his back, but the Bird King was being plucked in every direction. The Avatar. His nephew. Sokka had been a low priority, just a little boy playing at chief. He had taken advantage of the Phoenix King’s lack of attention and crossed the Earth Kingdoms unmolested, even with an army.
While Yanik and Pauqa stayed behind to manage the troops, Touqa, Mika, and Kunip stood on either side of him, eyes wide with awe. Like him, they had all seen their fathers suited up as warriors but had never gone into battle themselves. Touqa had barely completed the rituals of manhood just before Yue’s arrival.
Yue’s arrival.
It seemed to be the start of all the events that had transpired, a year and a half ago. In that time Sokka had crossed into the legal age of manhood. His Tribe had been run by the elders and Bato for months. He had traversed half of the world.
Watching the troop trains unload was a man sitting in a curtained palanquin. He was dressed in olive green and jade robes, with a skull cap from which dangled a golden chain. His mustache was long and dangled from his face. His pale green eyes watched the scene intently. Sokka turned to face him. Hou Lao Beifong, the head of one of the five families that ruled Gaoling. He had been alerted of their arrival via messenger hawk. Sokka wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the man arrived at the depot, but certainly wasn’t a soft man in softer slippers. Sokka straightened his spine and wondered how he must look- a young man whose beard was just beginning to form, with a warrior’s wolf tail in desperate need of a trim. When he looked at himself in a looking glass, he hardly recognized himself. He was tall, lean but not haggard, but his eyes were tired. So tired. Kunip and Touqa were beside him and Suki and Mika were just behind. The dogs sat at his feet. An army of earthbenders were at his back.
A servant standing at Hou Lao Beifong’s palanquin set down a step stool and a rug. The man descended from his seat, hands tucked in front of him as he faced the young chief and his bloodsworn warriors. “Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, at last we welcome you and your…entourage to Gaoling.” He dipped at the waist, not nearly deep enough to show respect to Sokka’s position, but an acknowledgement all the same. Sokka mirrored him.
Hou Lao Beifong was one of the five Hou of Gaoling, the lords that ran the city-state. It was with him that Sokka had communicated while they were still in Omashu, and Sokka had gotten a feel for the man through his letters. Pompous but cautious. A man who weighed the risk of his investments. Sokka only hoped that they could strike a deal that was mutually beneficial. The loan he needed was a large one that most men would balk at. The Beifong family was one of the richest in the world.
The world.
“Hou Beifong, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. I appreciate your willingness to accommodate us.” Sokka dared to smile at the man, receiving a stoic stare in return. He blinked. “Your generosity is most kind.”
“We are a generous people.” Beifong responded and gestured to the palanquin. “Please, you and your closest advisors are free to refresh yourselves at my estate. The Cabinet will see to it that your legion is taken care of. Your…pets will be brought to you in crates.” He snapped his fingers and the servant leapt to open the curtain of the palanquin. He entered first, waiting for Sokka and his companions to follow him.
Sokka stepped up and sat down across from the man. Touqa and Kunip squeezed in, allowing Suki to sit between them with Mika. The curtain closed behind them and then the litter was lifted from the ground, jerking them forward as it began to move. Sokka took the moment to study the man up close. He was clearly someone who valued opulence over austerity if his silk and satin robes and rings were any indication. He appeared to be older than Sokka’s father. There were lines on his cheeks by his mouth and at the corners of his eyes that dug deep in his skin. White hairs had begun to sprout in his mustache. He sat with his legs close together and his hands in his lap.
“My sincerest condolences for your father.” Lao Beifong said. “It was a shock to all at his passing.” At his murder Sokka wanted to say but he knew it was just politeness. No one ever said things out loud. “By all accounts he was a fair ruler and a savvy man. The Earth Kingdom’s rail system would have never gotten off of the ground without his cooperation. It was a tragedy felt around the whole world.”
Not enough of a tragedy to spark widespread dissent, apparently. It had been the kindling, but not enough to turn the larger kingdoms. Sokka wondered if there were any members of the Order of the White Lotus in Arakem and Garsai and the Tribes of Si-Wong. He said nothing in response. Touqa was glaring at the floor while Kunip had sunk into his own thoughts, countenance placid. Suki eyed Beifong. Beifong stared back coolly.
They rode in tense silence for what seemed like hours. Sokka heard the squeal and squeak of iron gates open. They went on for moments more before the litter was set on the ground. Sokka followed the man as he stepped out and the young chief stifled a gasp.
The Beifong estate seemed to be a palace on its own. It wasn’t nearly as sprawling as IcePoint, but it rivaled Bumi’s stronghold. They stood in the middle of a symmetrical courtyard where a small path led into the main building. Pale brick wall contained the area. A fountain in the shape of a badgermole was equidistant from the household entrance and the iron gates. Like the capital of Gaoling, the Beifong estate was so pristine that Sokka was uncertain if people actually lived there. An organized unit of servants poured out of the residence, led by a flustered steward. They swarmed the four newcomers, dusting off their boots and offering to wash their feet before entering. Hou Lao Beifong watched on and Sokka knew they were being tested.
“That would be most kind of you,” he said and as they reached the main door, one of the attendants assembled a portable chair for him to sit. Another set a pan of soapy water at his feet, unlacing and tugging off his boots without so much as a nod. He dipped Sokka’s feet in the water and despite himself, Sokka sank down. The last time he had a proper pampering was in Bumi’s court. The train had left much to be desired. The servant scrubbed his feet and ankles and toweled him dry, slipping a pair of white indoor slippers. Suki and his warriors received the same treatment.
Upon completion of the task, the servants pulled open the doors and Sokka stepped under the arch and into the welcoming foyer. An army of domestic workers lined the walls on each side. In front of them stood a woman in a bright green kimono that flowed like silk. Upon her waist was a large sash dyed a gentle blue with white and pink cherry blossoms. Her hair was piled atop her head, held in place by two fire gilded pins. Her face was painted a milky white, a stark difference from her peach toned throat. She kept her eyes down.
Beside her stood a young girl. She stood with her hands clasped demurely but her legs were spread apart,her stance almost like a man’s. She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen. She wore a jade colored cheongsam and her hair, like the woman’s, was pinned high on her head. Sokka didn’t need to be a genius to know that he was standing for the man’s wife and child.
“Chief Sokka,” the woman finally lifted her eyes once her husband came to stand beside her. “It is a pleasure to have you here in our home!”
Lao nodded stiffly. “This is my wife, Poppy, and my daughter-” Sokka did not miss the grimace that formed briefly over the man’s face before it quickly faded away, “my daughter Toph. Toph, greet our guests.”
The little girl raised her head and Sokka saw that her eyes were a milky green glazed over by cataracts. She smiled deviously. “The one on the left walks funny.”
Touqa blustered with indignation, struggling to hold his tongue. Under his breath he hissed “ I do not walk funny!” and furrowed his brow.
“Toph!” The girl’s mother exclaimed, wrapping her delicate hands around her daughter’s shoulders. “My apologies! Our daughter means no harm of course, she’s just…well, we can only teach her so much etiquette, you see.” Poppy Beifong bowed to them. “Zhu Li, please see to it that Toph makes it safely back to her rooms?”
One of the domestic women broke away from the group and took the girl’s hands as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. The girl’s parents watched her worriedly before turning back to Sokka. Poppy fixed her face in a noblewoman’s smile. “Please, allow Tom-li to show you to the guest house! Rest until the evening, we shall all eat dinner together. Perhaps even Toph if she is…well.”
Sokka schooled his features. He could not afford to offend the only family that could fund his whole endeavor. Tom-li, a stern-faced elderly man, jerked his head for Suki, Kunip, Mika, and Touqa to follow. Sokka trailed behind, taking note of the sheer elegance of the estate. Paintings of the previous Hou Beifong hung from the walls. There was a room off to the side that seemed to contain nothing but a shrine laden with offerings.
They were led down a hall that ended in two glass double doors. It entered into an open air causeway lined with cherry blossoms that led to a building that was smaller but no less elegant than the Beinfong residence. It had three arches at the entrance, revealing that it was actually rectangular with an open courtyard in the middle. Tom-li led them through the arches. The courtyard was unpaved but packed with gravel. Each suite had its own fenced patio and linen curtains guarding the back door. “You may take your pick of the suites. There is a bath in each. I will have the staff bring you hot water and soap.” He eyed each of them. “And robes.”
“Talk about royal treatment,” Sokka said as he strolled through the courtyard to one of the center doors. “If these are their guest quarters, imagine what the rest of the place looks like.” He wondered when they would bring his dogs back. Amarok and Yukka still had wounded pride from being shaved down, and no doubt were yodeling at the terrible inconvenience of getting a bath.
“How do you feel about them, Sokka?” Kunip asked quietly as they entered Sokka’s chosen suite. The floors were bamboo wood and the walls were light and airy. Off to the side was the bathing room and on the other side of the room was a bed so large that it reminded Sokka of his own back home. “About the Beifongs?”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel about them,” the young chief answered. “Only how they feel about me. There’s thousands of troops out there that are looking for me to pay them. I have to strike a deal with them.” He sat heavily on the bed and kicked his slippers away. “The sooner we get their help, the sooner we can go to Taku. And from there…” Sokka paused. There were multiple avenues he could take. He could attempt to launch an attack directly on the caldera (and die) or he could set up base in one of the Fire Nation’s enclaves in the Earth Kingdoms and either bide his time for more allies.
A hopeful, overly optimistic side of him wished he would find Katara. That perhaps she had stumbled into the same Earth Kingdom that he had. Perhaps she would hear of a brave, young, strikingly handsome Chief and instantly know it was him. She had better not have found a boy. Sokka would cuff him right on the side of his big head. No boy was good enough for his sister. Not even one of his bloodsworn. Kunip was too old. Touqa was…Touqa was Touqa.
“From there we’ll figure it out,” Mika finished for him and Sokka nodded gratefully.
“The little girl is weird.” Touqa wrinkled his nose and Suki swatted at him.
“She’s blind , you oaf!” Her cheeks tinged red with anger.
The Water Tribe warrior bared his teeth but there was no true bite behind it. “Here you are again, Kyoshi, expecting the worst out of me! What I meant was that she’s too savvy to be blind. How did she know I walk funny? Even though I most certainly do not.”
Mika sat beside Sokka. “Well some people back home say that the other senses grow stronger when you go blind. Maybe she has good hearing. And you do walk funny.” He and Kunip were the more logical of the group. Touqa opened his mouth for a sarcastic retort and then caught Suki’s glare.
A servant knocked on the front door and opened it before Sokka could answer, bringing in a large basin of steaming hot water. He stared blankly at the crowd before skirting into the bathing room. “I will prepare more water,” he said and skittered away.
“I suppose we should all head back to our own rooms. I, for one, have had enough of riding on a train.” Kunip grabbed Touqa and Mika by the arm. “Let’s get some rest. You too, Kyoshi.” He looked pointedly at Suki.
Suki lingered and looked back at Sokka. Perhaps his fatigue was more evident than he’d thought. “We‘ll see you later.” She followed the warriors out and Sokka didn’t want to admit that part of him was wounded by her departure. His men had finally accepted her and saw her as an equal (how could they not? She swung a sword better than most of them.) He appreciated her in a way he had not anticipated.
A dark seed planted its way in his mind. Eventually, whenever he went home, Suki would leave him.
Sokka bathed in a silence that he was unaccustomed to. Even as a child, the halls of IcePoint had never been silent. There was always someone walking about, servants or guards, or even his father making his rounds throughout the citadel. Since his journey began, he had constantly heard the chatter of his bloodsworn. Especially Touqa, who would only shut up when he was dead.
Once more his mind went to Katara. They were the last of the Polar Bear Dogs. As he dried himself off, he used the towel to dab at his damp eyes. They had left each other in a panic, and if Sokka had known what would transpire, then he would have dragged her with him. They could have traversed the world together. Sokka was the planner and Katara executed those plans. Their father had intended for them to help run the Tribe together whenever the time came.
Life’s not fair, Sokka.
Sokka, perhaps now more than ever, needed a hug.
He dressed himself in the loose tunic and tapered pants provided for him and sat on the edge of the bed. He would rejoin the others shortly for their welcoming meal. They reconvened in his suite not long after, washed and refreshed. Mika, Touqa, and Kunip wore outfits similar to Sokka’s own while Suki had been provided with a flowing evening kimono. After seeing her in pants for months, Sokka had to admit she looked even prettier than before.
Touqa smirked. “Aye, I’ll give it to you, Kyoshi, you clean up nicely. Still as stiff as a board.”
Suki rolled her eyes.
When Tom-li returned to escort them to the grand dining room of the Beifong mansion, Sokka had already plotted his next course of action. He had to impress Beifong, who would then formally introduce him to the others. Sokka’s characteristic charm wouldn’t work on a stick in the mud like Hou Lao Beifong. He would have to wear a mask of diplomacy. Impeccable diplomacy.
Lao and Poppy Beifong were at the head of the table when they entered. Lady Beifong had removed the makeup from her face, revealing that she was perhaps ten or so years younger than what Sokka had originally thought. She was younger than her husband, for sure. At their left was their daughter, Toph, smirking down at the placemat in front of her. She raised her head at their entrance, her sightless eyes crinkling with mischievous mirth. Sokka braced himself.
He saw the girl’s mother put a firm hand on her wrist, her thumb inconspicuously digging into her flesh. Hou Beifong motioned for his guests to seat themselves. Sokka, like a good little petitioner, sat. They were served with glasses of rice wine, a far cry from the standard introductory tea. Hou Beifong raised his glass. “I hope you’ve found our hospitality pleasing thus far,” he said, “and I wanted to take the chance to discuss your true motives over dinner before we conjoin with the council.”
As he spoke a train of servants streamed out of the kitchens with trays of sesame balls and sautéed vegetables. They slid bowls and plates in front of the seated Beifong family and the visitors without a word, moving as an organized unit. Lao did not move. His pale eyes met Sokka’s blue ones.
“I appreciate the Cabinet accommodating my army. The plan from here is to seek out a union with Taku and then move to the Estival Peninsula where the Fire Nation has its strongest colony.” Sokka resisted the urge to thrum his fingers against the table.
Lao made a hmm sound as he took a sesame ball in his chopsticks. “A threat to the Southern Water Tribe is a threat to us all. The others will be difficult to convince if you approach them alone.”
Here comes the catch .
There’s always a catch.
Sokka braced himself.
“I will support you in front of the others if you can agree to my terms. Even if the other lords refuse, you will still have my word.” Sokka’s bloodsworn had all frozen, eyes as large as dinner plates as Hou Lao Beifong proposed his side of the contract. “How old are you, Chief Sokka?”
Mentally…probably about forty. Spirits, why did it feel like he was having a quarter life crisis? “Sixteen,” he answered and even that felt wrong. He shouldn’t be sixteen years old and already the (un)crowned chief of the Tribe. He should be back at home, learning the intricacies of leading the Tribe under the guidance of his father. He should be touring Wolf’s Cove and Icebreak City and everything in between. Not here licking the boots of a man with a lackluster beard.
Lao Beifong nodded sagaciously. “Still young, as I’d thought. Well, Chief Sokka, I will support your endeavor. And in exchange, you will be betrothed to my daughter Toph and when she is grown, you will take her to be your wife.”
The entire table erupted in absurdly polite chaos. Except for Toph. The little girl raised her head with a screech of “whaaat?!” that threatened to shatter the windows. Her sightless eyes turned into daggers in the direction of her father. “Are you joking?!”
Suki was bubbling with anger. “Is he joking?!” She whispered fiercely.
“He’s joking,” Kunip said under his breath. “Spirits, let him be joking.”
Sokka flailed for words that would not have him beheaded. “With all due respect, Hou Beifong, your daughter is twelve. That’s hardly, that’s not, it wouldn’t be-”
As still as a koi pond, Lao Beifong bobbed his head. “Hence why I said betrothal, not marriage. Toph is yet young, but in four years time she will be a woman grown. You yourself will only be twenty. By then, all this disruption should be settled and your home should be rebuilt.” Beside him, Poppy Beifong’s countenance had become white as a sheet.
Plates clattered as Toph jolted to her feet, gripping the table with both hands. For a heartbeat, Sokka thought she was going to flip the table over. Her cheeks were flushed with anger and what Sokka could only describe as despair. Just as suddenly, she sat with a meek resignation that could only come from having lived her whole life under the dictation of someone else. She hung her head.
“You don’t have to agree now,” Lao said. “Mull over it and you may give me your answer tomorrow morning.” And then, with the confidence of a man who had never been denied anything a day in his life, he called for the next course.
As night fell, all five of them crashed into Sokka’s room. They stumbled over each other, words jumbling together until it sounded to Sokka like bees. Touqa was complaining the loudest, but even soft-spoken Mika had thrown out a few coarse words.
Suki threw her hands up as she paced the length of the room like a caged animal. Kunip had positioned himself in the corner, arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t believe him! His own twelve year old daughter!” Suki flung her hands out and shook them as if she was wringing an imaginary nobleman’s neck. “Sokka, you have to tell him no.”
“Aye, I agree with Kyoshi, chief. There’s never been a Chief that married outside of the Tribe.” Touqa shook his head. “He’s using you, Sokka. What’s a little blind girl going to do to help the Tribe? Nothing!” His pale eyes flashed. “She’ll be just like my mother, I’ll bet. She’ll come and ruin things and then high tail it back here.” A vehement contempt had crept into his voice. “You’ll need a warrior bride. Aye, don’t you have a sister, Meeks?”
Mika nodded stiffly, his mind elsewhere. Sokka looked between the four of them. Suki and Touqa mirrored each other, both in a dark cloud of anger that threatened to overtake the others in the room. Kunip had yet to speak.
“I agree with Touqa and Suki, Sokka. But if you tell him no, then you’ve just forfeited everything you’ve fought for. Those thousands of troops that Bumi gave you will need to be paid in yuans or in plunder.” Kunip stepped out of the shadows of the corner he had lodged himself in. “She’s twelve…but a lot can happen in four years.” Sokka glanced up in horror at Kunip’s implication and his spear brother stared hard at him. “I say sign the contract.”
Sokka raked his fingers through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. I just want some seal jerky. And a nap . He didn’t want to think about marrying a little blind girl. “Kunip is right,” he said hoarsely. “We’ve come too far. If I refuse Beifong, then I lose everything. I have to agree to it. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to, but I have to think about the Tribe.” A Chief put the interests of his people above his own. The Bird King had put him in this position and this was the one card Sokka had left.
Suki’s face became impossibly red. “I can’t believe you! Sokka, I can’t believe you!” He realized that she had begun to cry.
“It’s not like I want to.” His voice came out angrier than he had intended. “Trust me! But I’ve done a lot of things that I haven’t wanted to, if you haven’t noticed. I want to go home, play with my dogs and throw my boomerang and eat some seal jerky in peace!” The four of them were staring. “I don’t want to be betrothed to a twelve year girl but guess what, Suki, guess what, Touqa-”
“Sokka.” Mika said softly. “We are your bloodsworn. We are your brothers. We’ve followed you this far and we’ll follow you for the rest.” He moved to embrace him. “I swore by spear and oath.”
“By spear and oath.” Repeated Kunip.
“By spear and oath.” Touqa declared.
Suki’s eyes were red as her face twisted and then straightened. “By fan and sword.”
They all moved to put their arms around him and Sokka relaxed against them. Tomorrow, he knew, would seal his fate.
——-
Hou Lao Being was beaming as he smugly set the contract before Sokka, chest puffed out like a cat-swan. “This is most advantageous for both of us,” he said, presenting the quill that would finalize Sokka’s life sentence. “I pray you slept well?”
“Like a baby.” Sokka droned and scanned over the contents of the contract. In exchange for carte blanche to continue his efforts to rally allies against the Phoenix King, Sokka would be betrothed to Toph Beifong. In four years' time, when the daughter of Hou Lao Beifong reached the age of majority, they would be wed in a traditional Earth Kingdom wedding before she would go to live in the South Pole. His stomach curdled at the finality of the language. Exhaling heavily, Sokka lifted the quill and signed his name.
“Excellent!” Beifong clapped his hands together. “We shall have this signed by the magistrate. At noon, the council will meet in the Capital Hall with the Cabinet. Until then, should you and your companions need anything, flag down any of the domestics. There is no desire that can’t be fulfilled.” He stood and Sokka forced himself to shake the man’s hand.
Sokka had left the others in the guesthouse. He was certain that they would be awake by now, but they knew him well enough to leave him in peace. Stepping away from the table, Sokka put one foot in front of the other as he walked down the pristine halls towards one of the numerous curated gardens that permeated the estate.
The air was still crisp and droplets of lingering dew slid between the toes of his sandals as Sokka stepped out into the soft grass. This garden was fashioned after a zoo, though none of the animals were real. Betwixt the trees and crouched at man made ponds and streams were stone animals. Zebra-cows and wolfdeer, cat-swans at the edge of the pond. They had been created by master earthbenders with the same fine-tuned precision as the ice statues back home. Sokka ran his fingers along the raised mane of a leopon, its bared fangs and gaping maw large enough that he could put his whole fist inside.
He wandered deeper into the garden. Real, living, birds sang their early morning odes and flitted about from branch to branch. Sokka was struck with a resounding sense of chrysalism, of being encased in his own languid reality amongst life trapped in stone.
A rumble from deeper within the bowels of the garden drew him from his reverie. The ground jostled almost imperceptibly under his feet. Another rumble rose up, this one louder and stronger. Sokka turned to the direction of the sound, crouching lower as he went. He dove into the ferns and crawled on his hands and knees, feeling the cool dirt under his palms. He could feel the earth vibrating under his fingers.
The garden opened up into a clearing obscured by a ring of trees. The tunnel of ferns ended just at the edge. Sokka pried two limbs apart and stifled a gasp at the sight.
A small girl, her jet black hair falling loose from its bun, was moving through an earthbending stance, her bare feet buried in the earth. Her hands were spread out before her, palms up and moving side to side like a horizontal pendulum. She stopped abruptly.
“You know I can see you, right?”
Sokka let out a very not masculine squeal. The girl chuckled. “Well, not see you, but I felt you when you first came in.” She turned to face him, her head cocked to the side. Toph Beifong smiled.
Sokka emerged from his hiding place, mouth flapping like a fish as his brain struggled to comprehend what he had seen. “You’re an earthbender?!”
The young girl put a confident hand on her hip, “Yeah, what about it?”
“But, but , you’re-”
“Blind? Oh the horror! A little blind girl being one of the best earthbenders in Gaoling. Who would’ve thought?” Toph waggled her fingers mockingly. “Sorry I’m not the fragile little princess you thought I’d be.” She beckoned for Sokka to come closer and he did, freezing as her small hands grasped his cheeks. She traced his face with her fingers, nodding to herself. “Yep, it’s as I expected.”
Sokka tore his face away, bewildered. “What? What are you talking about? And how can you see me? Er, feel me?”
Toph smirked and giggled at a joke that only she was privy to. “I’m an earthbender. But as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I am blind . So I had to learn differently. My parents would prefer if I weren’t a bender at all, so they never hired a master to teach me. Well the joke is on them, I learned from the originals themselves!” She must’ve sensed Sokka’s confusion. “When I was little, I escaped from the nursery and found a tunnel underground constructed by badgermoles. I started copying them and how they moved, and that’s how I mastered earthbending.”
“Ahh,” Sokka said, “nice.” It was impressive, without a doubt, but his mind was so disjointed that he could not find the words.
The young girl casually kicked a rock the size of Sokka’s head. “I don’t want to marry you, either, you know.” Her voice was small and timid in a way that did not suit her. “And even if I did, Fan Girl would probably kill me in my sleep. She’s nuts for you. And you are for her.”
Sokka flushed. “No, it’s not like that-”
Toph rolled her ankle and the earth under Sokka’s feet rippled. “I can hear your heartbeat and tell when you’re lying. Her heart goes wild when you’re together. And yours does too. It’s disgustingly adorable. Let’s cut each other a deal. You get me outta here before my father pitches me off to some forty year old geezer, and we stay out of each other’s way. But I’m coming with you, of course. I always wanted to kick some firebender butt!”
Sokka found himself smiling. She had played her role well. “And if your father won’t let you?”
The blind earthbender levied him with a sightless stare before rolling her eyes. “My father alternates between wanting to keep me hidden like a precious flower and wanting me out of his house and out of his sight. First I disappointed him by being born a girl. A blind girl at that, because I never do anything by half measures.” Her grin was toothy. “Then I made the unforgivable mistake of being born too late to marry any of the sons of the noblemen, though that didn’t stop him from considering shipping me off to be Hou Leng’s replacement goldfish-I mean wife! Luckily for him, and me I suppose, you came along. So thanks, Snoops.” She punched him in the arm with bruising force. “I owe you one.”
Their re-entry into the house was overtaken by the clamor of raised, bewildered voices. Toph slid in the façade of a meek and mellow little girl, clutching her newly betrothed’s arm. Hou Beifong and his steward were surrounded by messengers clad in white and olive, their faces flushed from the emotions running through their eyes. Upon their entrance, Lao glanced up at them and turned away in disregard. Sokka lingered.
“There has been news from Banka-Kadi and Omashu, and all of the Elemental Temples,” the first messenger said breathlessly. “The identity of the Avatar has been confirmed by all sources. It is a girl, headed westward from the Eastern Air Temple. A girl who by all accounts, is a teenager from the Southern Water Tribe.” They had all turned to stare at Sokka.
His ears rang as if someone had struck him against the head like a gong. He didn’t know any other girls that would leave the South Pole, especially not in the current political climate. Katara. His mind was murky with a swamp of thousands of thoughts and scenarios overlapping each other, threatening to drag him down into a stupor. Who else could it be? His sister, his annoying, amazing sister was the Avatar.
And he was finding this out from the man who had strong-armed him into marrying his daughter.
“Chief Sokka,” Lao Beifong’s voice cut through. “You look ill.” Despite his concern, his tone was smug. Not only had he secured the Southern Water Tribe, he had directly linked his daughter and thus himself to the most powerful human being on the planet. “Should we postpone the meeting with the Cabinet?”
“Yeah…” Sokka felt as though he was in a haze. “Yeah…”
He was acutely aware of Toph following him back to the guesthouse, her tiny hand on the hem of his shirt. The others were in the quad, baffled expressions lining their faces at the sight of the stunned young chief and the blind earthbender. Mika rushed to him first, putting his hand on his elbow and guiding Sokka down into a sitting position. Suki shot a questioning look at Toph, biting her tongue and grasping Sokka’s hand in dismay.
“What’s wrong, chief?” Touqa knelt before him, tapping his fingers against Sokka’s cheek in a feeble attempt to rouse him from the pit of confusion and grief that he had begun to succumb to. “Sokka. Sokka!”
Sokka opened his mouth but the words refused to come out. He swallowed thickly and suddenly he was effusing, stumbling over his words as they poured out of him in an uncontrollable cascade. “Katara is alive and she’s the Avatar?! I-I-I don’t even know how that’s possible, she was a waterbender ever since we were children and Dad would have never have kept that from us. I would’ve known. I would’ve suspected, I’m Sokka the Guy with the Plans-” he froze. His father had arranged his tiles in silence, preparing for every possible scenario years in advance. He had to have known. Everyone at IcePoint had to have known and were sworn to secrecy. Had his father intended for Katara to live out her days in quiet mundanity as the beloved Princess and advisor to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe? Sokka put his head between his knees to alleviate the lightheadedness that had come upon him.
“What are you talking about, Sokka?” Kunip asked.
Toph cleared her throat to bring attention to herself. “Messengers from Gaoling’s Bureau of Foreign Communication just arrived. They came to tell my dad that the Avatar’s identity had finally been confirmed. Surprise surprise, guess who it is?!”
The mouths of the Water Tribe warriors hung open. Mika was the first to recover. “So…what do we do now? You’ve got two thousand troops to consider.”
There was that spirits-forsaken question that had trailed on Sokka’s heels for the last year. What what what. He weighed the options. If she had made it this far, then Katara could clearly hold her own. Besides, she had four elements at her disposal. He was paying Bumi’s men to follow him to Taku and then the Estival Peninsula. Not to chase his sister across the Earth Kingdoms.
He could only hope that the spirits were kind enough to reunite them soon.
“Nothing changes,” he answered. “Except now Toph is one of us.”
Suki’s countenance soured. “Sokka-”
“Cool it, Fan Girl.” Toph Beifong snickered as she waved a hand over her pale jade eyes. “I can’t consent to and sign a marriage contract because, guess what? Aside from being twelve, I can’t read!”
Touqa slung his arm around the little girl’s shoulder. “Aye, Beifong might be a bully but I like her already!” Toph grinned back at them, one of their number already, and Sokka found it easier to smile. Katara would be okay. They would all be okay.
The afternoon came too quickly.
Toph had retreated back to her rooms, once again the feeble blind daughter of the richest man in Gaoling. Sokka wasn’t sure how she would convince her father, who treated her as though she were made of porcelain, to allow her to leave with a bunch of soldiers. To Sokka’s understanding, they had no clue she was a self-trained bending master and he didn’t want to be present for that conversation. Sokka’s entourage stayed behind, which he was grateful for. This was something he had to do alone.
The Capital Hall of Gaoling was a rectangular building that reminded Sokka more of a shrine than any other administrative office he had seen. A triangular awning hung above the entrance. Five statues had been erected in front of the ingress. The first was the Beifong badgermole, followed by an elephant-bison, a water moose, an antelope kangaroo, and an oceloraptor. Sokka paused to study them all. The oceloraptor was a spotted feline with the talons and wings of a bird of prey. It was the most dangerous looking one of them all, though Sokka knew that there were times where quiet wolves caught more prey.
Hou Beifong gestured for Sokka to follow him up the steps of the Hall, pausing at the entrance when two cherubic boys opened the door for them. “Hou Leng has a preference to keep eunuchs in his household as domestics. He says they’re less likely to run off and come back with a babe in arms. The girls are regularly drowned in contraceptive tea.” He sniffed. “It’s a bit antiquated, but alas for some, tradition triumphs over ingenuity.”
The eunuchs silently guided them into the aisle that led to the audience chamber. Green guardsmen lined the doors with curved swords at their sides. They were dressed differently from the cohort loaned to him by King Bumi. The armor of the guards of Gaoling seemed thin, as if it were more for decoration than protection. They dipped their helms as Hou Beifong stepped around them, their eyes watching Sokka curiously. The entire city-state of Gaoling had heard of the Water Tribe boy with an army of earthbenders on trains.
The audience room was set up to have a raised justice’s bench and two semi circles on either side. The members of the Cabinet were seated at the semi-circles while the four other heads of the parliament were situated on the bench. Lao broke away from Sokka to ascend the steps and take the final seat. A eunuch clapped cymbals together once, and the din of noise within the audience chamber fell quiet.
“Chief Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe comes to state his claim,” another eunuch announced. “He stands before Hou Leng, Hou Han, Hou Tsunghi, Hou Tei-lin, and Hou Beifong.” Sokka noticed that miniature figures were set in front of the men on the bench table. Beifong and his badgermole. Hou Tei-lin was the oceloraptor, his long features shrewd. He seemed to be the youngest on the council, closer to his early thirties if Sokka were to guess. Hou Han was a fidgety man who twiddled incessantly with the tassel of his skullcap, not at all calm like a water moose. Tsunghi had eyes that gave away his Fire Nation ancestry, though his face was closer to a pecan in both shape and shade.
Sokka bowed to each of the men in turn. Before he could speak, Hou Tei-lin showed his palm. “There’s no need to state your case. The Cabinet has been feeding and housing your horde for the last few days. We already know your intentions.” His voice was deep, a low rumble that came from the depths of his chest. “I am hesitant to devote myself to your cause, Chief Sokka.” Their eyes met, green against blue. “Supporting you would be an open rebellion against the Phoenix King, whose fiscal policies have proven very beneficial for Gaoling.” Sokka was impressed. He was an eloquent man, politically savvy to the things that went beyond the tip of his nose.
“His fiscal policies might have lined our pockets, but so has our partnership with the burgeoning rail industry.” Hou Leng spoke for the first time and Sokka remembered what Toph had said. Lao Beifong had been prepared to betroth her to the man, even though he looked like he could be of an age with her father. “I hate to be the first one to say it, but the Phoenix King is proving to be…”
A raging psychopath? A pyromaniac with a bizarre inclination for murder? A looney with a fetish for political blunders and shrimp? A kin-slaying nutcase that could definitely use a therapy session with some kittens?
“What Hou Leng means to say is that the Lord of the Fire Nation has lately been serving the interests of himself and not the world.” Beifong chimed in. “The man proved his volatility twenty years ago, but his reign has been a stable one. With that said, I’d prefer not to taste my own blood. Chief Sokka will have my support.”
Leng, clearly desperate for Beifong’s approval, nodded enthusiastically. “And mine as well. These are uncertain times.”
Hou Tsunghi remained skeptical. “Uncertain indeed.” He steepled his fingers. “He has the support of both Tribes, Omashu, and Kyoshi. The Phoenix King remains allied with Laogai and Garsai. The Si Wong Tribes will not speak in either direction.” He studied Sokka and the young warrior lifted his chin. “I would prefer to side with the one that has a blood connection to the Avatar. I’d rather not incur the anger of the gods.” He put his palm flat on the table. “I will stand with you.”
Tei-lin worked his jaw. “I will not.” He lifted his hands. “Rest assured I will do nothing to hinder your endeavor. I just simply cannot afford to be charitable and put my household and coin at risk. I wish you the best.”
The last to speak was Hou Han. He had remained silent throughout the exchange. “Hou Tei-lin makes a valid point. As you all know, the Cabinet goes where I go. And I will stand with the young chief.”
It was solidified.
——-
Two weeks later saw them finally preparing to depart from the capitoline hill of Gaoling. The trains belched dark smoke as weaponry, rations, armor, and a number of mounts and scouting animals were loaded in the open air train car. Sokka’s dogs wove in between his legs in turns, a group of synchronized swimmers of their own. Yukka and Desna were the most anxious of the quartet. Desna was still young and Yukka had never possessed the rock solid nerves that made Amarok and Innik so formidable.
The banner of the Badgermole waved above their heads.
Suki came to his side as he watched the process unfold. Once again she wore pants and a shirt tucked in her belt, her iron war fans and sword dangling from her hip. Her hair hung about her face. He smiled amicably. She had been cross with him for agreeing to Beifong’s demands, and Sokka was no fool to not see the twofold reasoning behind her irritation. And perhaps…maybe Toph Beifong was right afterall.
“To Taku?” She asked.
The young chief nodded. “To Taku.” His dogs perked their ears and raised their heads in the sound of boots approaching them.
Kunip was dressed in his Water Tribe warrior regalia, even the hard leather breastplate and wolf’s head helm. On his arm he escorted a frail girl whose tiny feet shuffled in tiny steps, her pale fingers grasping his with hidden strength. Toph Beifong had put on her mask of diffidence, her hair covering her eyes. Sokka wondered how she had convinced her parents to let her leave with them.
“I like your shirt!” Toph lifted her head and grinned with enthusiasm.
“Thanks! Yknow, green is kinda-” Sokka paused and narrowed his eyes. “Now you just-”
The three of them fell into laughter at his expense. Out of view of her household guards, Toph released Kunip’s hand. Sokka saw she had a necklace of a badgermole. “You’re too easy, Snoops,” she smirked. “Where’s Tu-tu?” It took a moment for Sokka to realize she was referring to Touqa, who would certainly have an aneurysm if he knew what Toph called him. “And Water Boy?”
“Do you have a nickname for everybody?” Suki asked the younger girl. “Or just the people you like?”
Toph beamed. “I save my best names for the ones I like. I’m still debating if I want to call the Phoenix King Birdbrains or Sparkly Sparkly Psycho.”
Sokka considered it. Sparkly Sparkly Psycho was good, but Birdbrains had a ring to it. “Birdbrains,” he cast his vote. “But either way, we’re coming for him.”
Chapter 44: Dragonkeeper
Chapter Text
Yaretzi
All Yaretzi knew was fire.
It must be understood that Yaretzi’s love for Lu-Ten went beyond girlhood pining. It was not the clueless innocent love that he thought it was, that they all thought it was and even sometimes Yaretzi herself would wonder if perhaps she was just a love struck temple attendant smitten with her brother’s best friend.
It must be understood that Yaretzi’s love for Lu-Ten was out of duty. Out of a timeless soul tie that Tenochizun and Citlali had spun together long before either of them had been born. Her love was out of duty, her life’s mission to guard and protect him like he was her hatchling. If asked, she would say that she had loved Lu-Ten since she was just a babe in arms.The gods had whispered that secret to her when she was twelve, there in the temple that was now so far away. “ You will love him,” they had said, “ and you will kill for him.”
And kill she did.
It was an awesome, all-consuming fire that rolled up from within, forcing its way out of the container that was her flesh, her being. She was inadequate, insufficient, this was something greater than what she could conceive. She bent the flame, tinged blue at the edges, and forced a space between the assassin and her prince whose lifeblood spilled off of the bed and onto the pristine floor. The only emotion she could register was some distorted half-child of grief and rage, the only color that she could see was red.
The assassin shrieked as Yaretzi came down upon her with flames at her fists, her hands sure and steady. She was a trained archer, her thick arms were accustomed to the heavy weight of the bow and the strength of that muscle coursed down the length of her arms. Her blows rang true and the dark skin of Lu-Ten’s assailant began to blister and peel.
The Arakemeti’s blade clattered to the floor alongside her veil embroidered with the sigil of the Phoenix King, who had infiltrated Arakem long before Lu-Ten had stepped foot in Al-Imbatu. The young woman screamed, cornered by Yaretzi’s relentless wall of pink-tinted flames. She trembled in terror. “If you take another step, make another move, I will burn you from the inside out. As sure as the sun rises I will burn you from the inside out,” Yaretzi hissed and glanced back at the door. Perhaps Lallo and Tenoch and Dejen would come bursting in, perhaps more loyalists. At this point, it no longer mattered. Her prince, her love, her husband was dying. She knelt at the edge of the bed where Lu-Ten lay, half slumped onto the floor.
Shooting a warning glance at the Arakemeti girl, Yaretzi gingerly pressed her fingers to the sides of Lu-Ten’s neck, slowing her breaths and closing her eyes. There remained the tendril of life, thin and weak but present still. She latched on to it, that thin thread that held Lu-Ten from crossing into the spirit realm. The spirits were tugging against her, trying to pull him into the world of the unliving. To the spirits he was merely one more soul to join their murky number, perhaps he might glow a bit brighter than the others but he was still a mortal, still a man. To her, to Lallo, to Tenoch and Dejen and the Sun People and all the others who would rally behind him he was much more. Her prince, the one she would follow to the islands of the sunken volcanoes. The man who would be the Fire Lord with a dragon at his command. Yaretzi willed the warmth of her hands to retract back into her body, grounding herself in the strained beats of Lu-Ten’s heart.
And then they became one.
The healing touch of firebending required reaching equilibrium with the healer and the one who was to be healed. Tuwa, her mother, had instilled that lesson in her when Yaretzi was barely able to conjure a flame. The healer took and gave and pushed and pulled until they were on a level plane of existence. Animals were easy. Humans were more difficult with fellow firebenders being the most difficult of them all. Yaretzi wove herself in the fragile lattices of Lu-Ten’s chi , sewing the gaps of death and life back together with her own, forcing heat and warmth and life back into each darkening chakra.
“ Come back to me,” she whispered, unsure if she had spoken those words aloud. She could feel the cool tile of the floor against her knees, could feel the puddle of blood that would most certainly stain the Arakemeti dress she wore. “ Come back!”
A hand landed heavily on her shoulder and Yaretzi lashed out with both fist and flame, a roar erupting from her throat. She saw only the silhouette of a man, one of the Phoenix King’s infiltrators who had come to finish the job. Perhaps they would kill all five of them. Murder Tenoch and Dejen and her brother and then hand her off to the lecherous governor. Yaretzi vowed to die screaming. They had taken her weapons (even though a bow would serve no purpose in close quarters) but they hadn't taken her bending. She rolled between her assailant’s legs, rising to her feet in a combative bending stance. Her flames sparked to life once more as she lunged at the man, vision clouded by tears. She was dimly aware of a dull pain in her arm, of warm liquid flowing down her arm. Blood. Her own. At some point he had slashed her with a blade.
Yaretzi hitched her leg up and brought it back down in a sweeping arc of flame that licked at the ceiling and caught the curtains ablaze. The man shied away from her assault, throwing his arms up to shield his face. Yaretzi was relentless, punching out two bursts of fire that landed true and the room was filled with the stench of charred flesh. Yaretzi seethed, overcome with rage.
Behind her came the shouts of many men and suddenly her arms and legs were encased in stone, preventing her from moving. Yaretzi howled, her vision still blackened with fury. Someone was calling her name.
“Yaretzi! Yaretzi, stop!” Lallo, her brother. She could see him now, his eyes glistening with tears not yet shed and those that had already fallen stained his cheeks. “Yaretzi!”
The chambers were filled with Arakemeti earthbenders and the governor of Al-Imbatu. Behind them stood Tenoch and Lallo, and Dejen stood at the forefront with his kinfolk. Yaretzi wondered how the scene must look to them: two bloodied Arakemeti, a dying prince, and a crazed temple attendant trapped in tethers made of dirt. Kofi seemed to have emerged from the drugged stupor that had entrapped him earlier, his formidable presence overwhelming the other men in the room. “Uncle! I suggest your guests explain themselves before I deal with them in a fashion most similar to Hodan.”
“Don’t you all see my husband is dying!” Yaretzi wailed. “That… witch is in the pay of the Phoenix King! She stabbed Lu-Ten! And he,” she jerked her chin at the bleeding man cowering in the corner, “came to finish the job.” She glared at Kofi. “If you’ve come to finish us off then make it quick, lest Tenochizun and Citlali strike you where you stand.”
Kofi appraised the scene, his eyes flickering from Yaretzi and then to the girl, then to the man, and last to Lu-Ten. His gaze lingered on the symbol of the Phoenix embroidered on the assassin’s veil. He looked back at Dejen. “Uncle…I had no parts in this. I swear on the honor of our house, I had nothing to do with this!” He threw his arms up in surrender. His emerald green eyes met Yaretzi’s before he looked away, unable to hold her stare. “If they were so brazen to kill the man so soon after his arrival, then imagine how long they’ve been here. Ebo, Kojo, kill these two.” Two hulking earthbenders separated from the group, crossing the length of the chambers. They seized the girl first, who seemed pathetically small between them. Her feet dangled off the ground and her eyes had sunken in resignation. “Uncle, I swear.”
Dejen’s features were guarded. He gave a stiff nod. “Our nation has been infested with snakes.” He watched as the two guards hauled the assassins away, waiting until they had crossed the threshold. “Send word to Hodan immediately, Kofi.” In one smooth motion he unbent the earth that held Yaretzi hostage. She crumbled to the floor. “An attack on a guest is an attack on the crown.” The dark skinned man knelt next to Lu-Ten’s still form, pressing three fingers to the side of his neck. He closed his eyes.
Citlali, great mother. Please let him live.
Tenochizun, powerful father, do not take my husband.
Citlali, great mother. Please let him live.
Agni, fearsome god, do not take him from me.
Citlali, great mother-
The Arakemeti earthbender raised his head, somber. His eyes roamed to Tenoch and Lallo. He ran his hand over Lu-Ten’s hair in a fatherly gesture before letting it fall to his side. Yaretzi vaguely registered Tenoch wrapping his arms around her, the blood rushing in her ears. Dejen cleared his throat. A certain pallor had washed across his face, unbecoming on his black skin. His hands were trembling ever slightly.
“Yaretzi, little one,” Tenoch murmured.
“He is gone.”
A fierce, primal wailing pierced the silence of the chambers. It rose and fell like turbulent waves, rocking and ripping its way through the air until it echoed down the halls. That wail, that death knell, made its way throughout the palace , pouring out of the windows until it fell even upon the ears of dragons. Yaretzi realized with both apathy and horror that the terrible sound was coming from her own throat, raw from screaming. She felt as though she was in the heavens watching outside of her own body. She pictured herself crumbling into a heap, crawling over to put her head on Lu-Ten’s motionless chest. Dejen pressed his palm against her spine, rubbing gentle circles. The gesture proved ineffective; she was unable to cease her sobbing even though she wanted to.
She had failed.
Once when she was a girl, perhaps no more than four or five years, Tuwa had dragged her to the temple by her wrist. Yaretzi had whimpered as she stumbled over fallen branches and jagged stones, and had pleaded for her mother to slow her pace. Tuwa staunchly refused and had only halted when they reached the stone steps of the sacred building. Yaretzi remembered the lithe form of Moema trailing them, taciturn and pale. Yaretzi had gaped in awe, minuscule amongst the carved rocks that signified the entrance. Tuwa had gathered her two daughters and ushered them inside the cool mouth of the temple wordlessly, her features indecipherable as Moema and Yaretzi took in the magnificent sight. Moema had quaked anxiously while Yaretzi steeled herself with as much might as a four year old could muster.
Citlali loomed above them, her granite and marble features illuminated by the fire Tuwa had lit. She exemplified the most exquisite woman Yaretzi had ever seen, and for many years after she had searched for any similarities in her own face out of the scant hope that she, too, would be beautiful. Yaretzi had felt as though the statue was staring down at her. She reached out and touched the marble, expecting to feel a lifeless chill.
The stone had been warm.
Tuwa had seemed immensely pleased when she relayed this information. “You will be the one destined to watch over the dragons,” she declared and Yaretzi had been too small to yet understand. “You will be the one.”
The gods had commanded that she follow him and serve him. And she had failed.
She had failed.
“Yaretzi,” Lallo’s voice brought her back to the present. He knelt beside her and Dejen, pulling her head into his lap. “He’s gone.” His voice wavered and cracked and through her tears she saw that her brother’s cheeks were dampened. Yaretzi could count on one hand the amount of times that she had seen her brother cry. He had always been steadfast and of good humor, short of stature. The perfect foil to the tall and brooding Lu-Ten. They had never been too far away from each other. “Sister, Lu-Ten is gone.”
Too exhausted to cry, Yaretzi’s body shuddered in a great sigh. Lallo stroked her hair as Dejen wearily rose to his feet. “Kofi, we must honor him even in death. See to it that he is sent back to his people…” the Arakemeti cast a long glance at Yaretzi and her brother. “His true people, the Sun Warriors that raised him. Lu-Ten may have fallen but our work and our mission does not end with him, children. Yaretzi and Lallo, you must continue on with me to meet with Hodan. We must expose the Phoenix King for what he is- a true tyrant who has meddled too much in the affairs of the other nations. The Order of the White Lotus is not dead, and you are sworn members until death. This is our duty, this is your task.” He hauled Lallo up gruffly, Yaretzi stumbling along. Her mind had clouded over, vaguely aware that Lallo’s grip on her hand had not faltered. “Kofi.”
The singular word carried the strength of a full command. Kofi met his kinsman’s gaze and nodded stiffly. Yaretzi swayed pathetically on her feet as two men bent to pick up Lu-Ten ( Lu-Ten’s body, Lu-Ten is not here. He is not here he is not!!) with all the care as one would when lifting a sleeping child. Kofi himself threw a cloak over Yaretzi’s shoulders, all signs of the insufferable, lecherous governor they had met suddenly gone. It occurred to her that she was shaking like a leaf. The warmth enveloped her, infusing her with resolve. The Arakemeti earthbender hesitated and then rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. His eyes, green like emeralds, were downcast. “There are no words to truly describe what you are feeling, what I’m feeling.” He paused and Yaretzi felt pathetically small next to him. He towered over every other man in the room and was twice as broad. “Do as my uncle says, Yaretzi. Princess Yaretzi.”
Princess Yaretzi.
It was the first time anyone had ever addressed her by the accursed honorific and it felt grating and foreign to her ears. She suppressed a bitter laugh. Of course he would call her princess when the only legitimate link to that title was severed when her husband died. She had spent all that time with the mockingrobins, enduring their lessons on nobility and etiquette and decorum all for naught. Lu-Ten, her prince, was dead.
She was led away from the bloodied chambers, one foot falling in front of the other and she stumbled over the hem of Kofi’s cloak. Her sight had dwindled to a dark tunnel, her ears ringing and her hands trembled pitifully. At some point a woman appeared and presented her a cup, pouring the tonic down her throat when Yaretzi proved too feeble to do it herself. She fell into a catatonic state and when she awoke, she found that she was somewhere else in the palace and two black skinned women were taking turns fanning her with an enormous leaf. Yaretzi muttered her thanks and fell back into oblivion.
——-
When Yaretzi was a girl, older than five but less than ten, she dreamt she was a guest in the house of the queen of dragons. She had been seated on a stone dais dining with massive winged beasts whose amber eyes flashed like torches. Their blue scales rippled and pearlescent sparkles danced along their lithe forms. At the head of the table was Citlali whose beauty had no comparison. Her face was heart-shaped, her lips full and pink. Her own eyes were similar in color to those of the dragons, shaped like almonds. Citlali was wreathed in gold, wearing a hairnet formed from the proffered scales of her dragon children. Yaretzi remembered feeling pitifully small. Outrageously misplaced.
Citlali’s dragon children doted on their divine mother with the sort of adoration that Yaretzi had only seen offered towards the most senior crones of their village. None of Tuwa’s brood had tended to her needs like the serpentine children did to Citlali. They served her platters of fruit on their backs, one meticulously massaged her dainty ankles and still another used its immense wings to cool the air. She chucked the dragon under the chin and blew a kiss at the others.
At last the great goddess turned to Yaretzi, at last aware of the chubby dark haired girl standing awestruck by the sight. Her eyes glimmered with the brilliance of the rising sun and her skin had been coated with the glitter of stardust. “Little one,” the goddess greeted her. Citlali’s voice sounded like bells. “What do they call you?”
“Yaretzi.” Her response came as a pitiful squeak and she flushed in embarrassment. “My mother is Tuwa, daughter of Tenoszen and Mai-Lin and my father is…” A man. Yaretzi had never met her father, or at least she could not recall having done so. It had not mattered; her family had still been complete.
The goddess reached down to caress her cheek. The dragons grumbled contentedly and one hoisted Yaretzi up onto its neck, drawing her closer to the goddess. Its scales were a vibrant hue, almost iridescent. “Remember this, little one, my little dragonkeeper. You shall have the gift that goes beyond man’s imaginings. They will call it magic. It is the knowledge of your ancestors. They will call you a witch. It matters not what they call you. What matters is what you become.”
She wasn’t sure why memories of the dream suddenly came to her. When she awoke for the second time after the incident she found herself in a white tiled room. She had been placed on a plush bed and someone, presumably one of the Arakemeti women, had removed her shoes. The window on the north side of the chamber stretched from ceiling to floor, revealing that night had fallen. Al-Imbatu was still wide awake, its streets traveled by vendors of less than savory goods. Beyond that was the vast expanse of Arakem, its deserts and forests, its white stoned buildings and hard packed streets. Yaretzi stood at the window, struggling to gather her racing thoughts. The breeze that entered was warm still, despite the small respite that nightfall had brought to the city. The last few months had seen her staring up at many different stars. These skies were different from those of her homeland, where dragons flitted across the moon like dark winged shadows; these nights were not like her lonely vigils in the temples, tending to the gods. The tile under her bare feet was cool in comparison to the air, polished and scrubbed until she could see her reflection in the moonlight.
A rustle from the corner of the room alerted Yaretzi to another presence. Lallo, her brother, emerged from the shadows. His face was sunken, shadowy pools had formed under his eyes until he appeared much older than his twenty four years. Frowning had never suited her brother. He had always smiled, sharing with her their own private jokes, baring his teeth at whatever boy dared draw too close to her. Except for Lu-Ten. Yaretzi could not remember a time when her brother was not accompanied by her husband. Where Lallo was short and tan, Lu-Ten had been tall and pale, unsmiling when Lallo offered easy grins. He wore a washed out green tunic and on his feet were white thronged sandals. Wordlessly the Sun Warrior opened his arms.
Yaretzi fell into them with a half choked sob, shuddering as Lallo rubbed her back. He had always comforted her more than Tuwa, who loved her children dearly but loved herself and her freedom more, and more than Moema who had been so caught up trying to be the dutiful older sister that she forgot children had pains beyond superficial scrapes and bruises. Lallo said nothing. He hummed from deep within his chest so that the vibrations of his voice in his stomach passed through Yaretzi, who set the beating of her heart to his wordless song.
When she had calmed Lallo held her at arms length. Lallo reached behind him and produced a shapeless rough hewn cotton cloak that had been dyed brown. He held it up against Yaretzi’s shoulders. “We let you sleep long enough. Kofi can only buy us so much time under the cover of darkness. Yaretzi, we have to go.”
When she hesitated Lallo jerked her arms above her head and slipped the cloak over her shoulders, tugging it into place. His expression had not changed but Yaretzi knew he was frustrated, anxious. “Your shoes, you need shoes.” Lallo stepped away from her, fumbling about the room until he procured a pair of thick footed sandals. “Put these on.” Yaretzi obliged. Lallo moved to the window with a hunter’s tension. “We don’t have much time. Dejen and Tenoch are waiting. Kofi switched up his guards so only his most trusted ones are on watch.”
“We’re leaving now?”
“Yes,” her brother responded. “Like vagabonds.” A wry smile crossed his lips. “We are part of the Order of the White Lotus, sister, and now we move in silence.” He shrugged on an identical cloak that he had kept on the floor. Lallo grasped her face in his hands. “Sister. This is bigger than us, do you understand? It has always been bigger than us.”
But Lu-Ten…
Yaretzi bit her tongue. She had not intended to join an order that meant to overthrow tyranny. She had married Lu-Ten and it was his destiny to lead. Fury reignited her steps. It was his destiny to avenge his father and defeat his uncle. The Phoenix King. A man that Yaretzi had never met but somehow he had managed to take everything from her. When she met her brother’s gaze, Lallo flinched away at the rage in her eyes. Yaretzi nodded stiffly.
The door opened and a skinny earthbender whispered frantically. “Master Dejen and Master Tenoch are waiting in the shadow of the Gate of Sameda, we have to hurry.” He waved his hand as Lallo and Yaretzi spilled out into the hall. Yaretzi felt an unfamiliar lightness on her back.
“My quiver!” She hissed into the unlit corridor. Without it she was reliant solely on her firebending. Their guide shook his head. There was no time to gather her bow or Lallo’s spear. She could only hope that they wouldn’t need their weapons.
The palace looked different at night. Their guide shied away from corridors with windows, slithering from hall to hall, using fine-tuned earthbending to lighten the sounds of their footsteps on the marble floor. He walked with his back half pressed against the wall, green eyes aglow in the shadow. When they reached the opening of a courtyard he broke into a soundless sprint across the open space. A long walkway awaited them on the other side. Yaretzi held her breath as they crossed under a great stone arch. The stone had been etched with images of earthbenders hard at work. There was little time to dwell on the carvings, however. From the shadows under the Gate of Sameda she spotted Tenoch and Dejen, cloaked in similar garb. In the hours since Lu-Ten’s passing the men had become even more somber. They were accompanied by a stable hand who held three cheezebras by the reins , jerking on their halters to keep them quiet. Yaretzi and Lallo’s escort peeled away from them, saluting the members of the White Lotus before disappearing into the moonless dark.
“We can waste no time,” Tenoch said as he took the reins of one cheezebra and leapt easily into the saddle. Cheezebras were lithe and quick on their feet, but only for short periods of time. Dejen climbed onto another, leaving Yaretzi and her brother to share the third. Lallo lifted her into the saddle, taking up the reins and swung into place.
Under the cover of darkness, like thieves in the night, they disappeared under the Gates of Sameda out of the governor’s palace in Al-Imbatu and into the sands of Arakem. Yaretzi looked back at the palace as it disappeared back into the sand, her eyes dry at last and she vowed to never return.
The capital of Arakem was a sprawling city of grids that ran from east to west, rising out of the sand and then sinking into the more temperate climates of the other half of the kingdom. Outside of the thick fortified walls of the city was a caravansary, a geometrically constructed inn that relieved weary tradesmen. It was here, after eight relentless days of travel, where they sold off their mounts and refreshed themselves. Yaretzi still wore the loose, light shift in the Arakemeti style, but she had ripped off the lower half of the skirt to survive the long hours astride the cheezebra. Dejen, cognizant of his culture, had purchased her a new dress and veil before entering the city, wary that he would be stoned for allowing foreigners to disrespect them so.
The city itself was ancient, raised and carved directly out of stone. Its domed minarets and scalloped arches were vibrantly painted the pale green and white of Arakem, and everywhere Yaretzi turned she saw the snarling hyeagle of the royal family. Every block had a fountain and every quadrant had a public bath. In the center of the parallel and perpendicular streets of the capital was the palace of the Queen of Arakem.
Yaretzi had never seen such a massive structure in her life. The defensive walls and gates were interlocked with beige and olive stone, wrapped around a palatial complex of elaborate courtyards, irrigated gardens, and enclosed pavilions. It was a village of its own, rife with the smells and sounds of animals and food and flowers. Dark skinned Arakemeti fluttered about. Some were the hulking armed guards while others wore the plain clothing of servants. Others, still, were clearly the upper class. The women wore veils and the men trotted about in embroidered white vests with olive green skullcaps.
Dejen walked stiff legged up to the gates and raised his head. To the credit of the guardsmen, they recognized him almost immediately. There were cries of “Master Dejen” and “Sifu Dejen” as the entrance was opened and the magnificent palace of the Queen of Arakem opened its maw to receive them.
They were led to a vast throne room in which the entire floor and walls were cut from jade and chrysoprase. Yaretzi gaped as she took in the sight of the raised cushion throne of the Queen. Even Dejen dropped into a kowtow. A number of high born women were kneeling at the woman’s feet. Yaretzi trembled.
The queen’s hard green stare held them in place for what felt like an eternity. “Rise.” Her voice was firm and steady. When Yaretzi sat up on her knees through her veil she saw that the queen of Arakem was just as tall and imposing as her younger brother even when seated. She wore a high white headdress held by a long elegant neck. Her gown had open shoulders. “Uncle.”
“Hodan.” Dejen smiled at his niece. “I am glad to see you well. Your brother was a gracious host.”
Hodan snorted. “Save the flattery, uncle.” She snapped her fingers and her attendants scattered like birds. “Kofi would let the world burn around him if it meant he could keep sucking on that spirits-forsaken pipe.” She bid for Tenoch and the siblings to stand, analyzing them from her vantage point. “You said they killed one.” Yaretzi flinched involuntarily and the queen’s stare snapped over to her. Her lips twitched. “Who was he to you, girl?”
Yaretzi swallowed. “My husband.”
The queen blinked rapidly. Yaretzi watched as she descended from her throne and stepped over to them, her long elegant arms at her sides. She brushed by Tenoch and Lallo, stopping in front of the temple attendant. “Your husband,” she repeated, her emerald eyes unwavering. “And how does that make you feel, little one? Seeing your husband’s lifeblood seeping out of him, over your hands and your feet? Watching his eyes close forever?”
The priestess ground her teeth. She could feel her brother and elders watching with bated breath. It’s on you , she realized. If she blundered now then their cause was lost. It was a challenge, she knew. The queen of Arakem had tossed a coin and now they waited to see upon which face it would land. Yaretzi forced herself to breathe. “There are causes bigger than what we can see, my queen. Your brother Kofi told me that you would be a difficult coin to flip. The Phoenix King has made you richer and more secure than you have ever been.” Hodan stiffened. “I mourn my husband greatly…but I am sure you would mourn your throne more. How safe are you, my lady, from a knife in the dark?”
The queen of Arakem shrank back from her, her eyes ablaze. Yaretzi stood firm. What else did she have to lose? Hodan lifted her chin. “My brother,” she hissed, “is a fool. Now come with me.”
—————-
By the time two months passed, Yaretzi had found herself a niche within Hodan’s court of veiled women. She scarcely recognized herself when she saw her reflection. Her traditional garb was long gone, replaced by Arakemeti sheaths and veils that covered her hair. For the first time, she had allowed the sides to grow out until dark waves tumbled down her shoulders. She no longer felt like Yaretzi of the Sun Warriors, nor did she feel like Yaretzi of the Order of the White Lotus. Perhaps she was both of those things. Perhaps she was neither.
The hyeagles, she learned, were a clan that had little love for the weak. All of the upper class families were earthbenders and renowned warriors, related some way or another to the queen. Hodan herself was a master earthbender, and she had taken to sparring with Yaretzi in the earliest stretches of the morning when it was cool. Her daughter and heir was a girl of five years, though she had the markings to be just as formidable as her mother both in the training yards and in the courts. Yaretzi had met the girl only once and had been promptly terrified of her. She had her mother’s impressive height and bone chilling stare, and a haughtiness in her demeanor that suggested she had never been denied a desire.
And she hadn’t. Osana was the heir to one of the richest and most powerful Earth Kingdoms, surrounded by a city and culture that likened her almost to a god. The royal family had the divine exception of not covering their hair and whenever they went into the city they were surrounded by adoring citizens. Lu-Ten, she thought bitterly, never had the chance to receive such fanfare.
She knew better than to deceive herself and believe that they would’ve been welcomed with open arms after overthrowing the Phoenix King. They were Sun Warriors, different in almost every way from the firebenders of the archipelago. Perhaps they would have tolerated Lu-Ten, after all he was the son of the once beloved Crown Prince and had the sharp beauty of their royal family. Accepting Yaretzi as their queen would have been a different matter. Her copper skin was too dark, her accent too queer, her culture too strange. She was too indigenous for the refined snakes of the capital.
When she voiced this to Hodan over a cup of post-spar coffee, the woman reached over and slapped her once on the cheek. Taken aback, Yaretzi clutched her cheek, her pride more wounded and offended than anything else. The Queen of Arakem glared at her. “I did not take you to be a woman who was concerned about the opinion of sheep.” She sipped from her porcelain cup. “Too indigenous by whose standards? Are your people not the guardians of dragons? Did your husband not claim a dragon? Perhaps it was for the best that they cut him down so soon. You would be a pathetic excuse for a consort. Tell me, why did a man, who you claim to be so magnificent, choose you ?”
Yaretzi clutched the cup until the coffee threatened to boil over.
How can you expect to be a queen when you've been nothing but a temple attendant and spoiled brat?
I didn't even want to marry you!
She found herself blinking back tears as Hodan sneered at her. A pathetic excuse for a consort. Nothing but a temple attendant and spoiled brat. Yaretzi downed the rest of her beverage, feeling the hot liquid warm her from within. “Dragons have never concerned themselves with the matter of sheep,” she responded at last and tightened her resolve. “Need I remind you that dragons fear no one, not even a scavenging hyeagle.”
Hodan leaned back on her cushion. “There it is,” she gloated, “there’s the dragon . I thought that perhaps I was speaking to a lizard in a masquerade. I suppose I should tell you that the Phoenix King is crowing his victory from the rooftops. He crushed the largest threat to his regime like an ant under his thumb. And here I am, forced to pretend I knew along.” She sniffed. “Now they claim that his next prey is the Avatar and the little Water Tribe boy that dared to shake the table.” She glowered wordlessly at a servant who had entered the sun room unannounced before taking a deep swallow. “I admire the boy’s bravery just as I admired your husband’s determination to challenge a giant with little more than a slingshot and wit. My uncle has always been able to find the most interesting people.”
Yaretzi made a sound of agreement. Whose side was the queen on? She had yet to settle on a definitive answer. Hodan ultimately served herself and Arakem first, but Yaretzi could see the nagging doubt of her alliance with the Phoenix King. He had placed spies in her nation without her knowledge. Yaretzi begged dismissal and Hodan granted it to her with a sharp jerk of her unveiled head.
Lallo was waiting for her at the entrance of the sunroom. She had not seen much of her brother in the last weeks; Hodan had occupied much of her mornings and afternoons. Like her, he wore the earthen tones of Arakem and his hair had been braided back in two plaits. “I was wondering when your tea party would end,” his eyes twinkled as he looped his arm with her own. They walked down the arabesque halls of the palace towards their guest quarters. Yaretzi’s chambers were nearly twice the size as her childhood home, and for the first weeks she had felt exposed and cold. She spent her first nights curled up with her brother, a reminder of the life and people they had left behind.
They rounded a corner and Lallo pinched the inside of her arm. “Tenoch wants to know if you’ve made any progress.”
Yaretzi grimaced. “I’m trying, Lallo. Every time I open my mouth in front of that woman I feel as though I’m going to give myself a bad face. I am not the right person for this. Why couldn’t Dejen convince her instead?”
Lallo sighed. “Because she would be more receptive to you.” He waved his hands. “You’re a woman…she’s a woman…you’re a bender…she’s a bender. You get the point. Even if you can’t convince her to join the White Lotus, you can make her distrust the Phoenix King. If the other Earth Kingdoms see Arakem pulling away from the Fire Nation then they’ll do the same. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can go back home. Kofi said he would send Lu-Ten’s body back home. We’ll all be together again. Izon is getting restless, too.”
Izon.
The young priestess bit the inside of her cheek. The young dragon had burst through the clouds a week prior, his scales like rubies in the sun, and had caused such a terror in the crowded streets of the capital that Hodan had to deploy her guards to maintain the peace. He had not been alone, however. Izon had arrived with another dragon in tow, a magenta colored beast that sported copper horns and mane. They circled anxiously over the city, great red wings stirring the dust on the gridded streets. The magenta dragon was more elusive, vanishing just as quickly as she appeared, only to return once more. Yaretzi had taken to calling her Izara, even though the creature was too cautious to land close to the palace. Izon on the other hand had no qualms about the Arakemeti palace grounds. He had made one of the secluded gardens his nest, only allowing himself to be touched by Yaretzi or Lallo. Lallo delegated himself to be the dragonkeeper, tending to Izon and trying to coax Izara closer to no avail.
Lallo hummed lightly. “Let’s go to the caravansary tonight, sister. It’s been too long since you’ve been out of these gates.” He tugged her into his bed chambers and spun her around until a laugh erupted from her, the way he had since she was a child.
When night fell, Yaretzi followed her brother through the entrance of the palace and through the never ending streets. She had traded her white linens for long silken pants that caught in at her ankle and an embroidered tunic that matched Lallo’s. They wandered unseen through the city that never slept. The merchants of the night wandered about, their goods of a different sort. Mockingrobins, she knew, were different from the women of Kofi’s court. Hodan, as queen, had dismantled her father’s harem and the younger women of the seraglio fled to the lascivious arms of her brother.
Bawdy music rang out as they approached the caravansary. Lanterns lit the paths between the inn and the taverns. Traders milled about, seated at tables positioned in front of the taverns as they supped on rice and curried Komodo chicken. Yaretzi saw Arakemeti women dancing barefoot under their veils while a group of travelers from a different Earth Kingdom, wearing turquoise, clapped enthusiastically. She found herself smiling as she was roped into the line, her feet falling into the steps that she had learned in her two months in Arakem.
The tavern was even more lively. The heat of many bodies and the din of multiple voices ran along Yaretzi’s skin as she stepped inside. Serving girls, similar enough in appearance to be cousins or sisters, floated about. A mountain of a man stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. It did not take long to discern that he was the elder brother of the serving girls, his eyes watchful like a messenger hawk. Lallo gave him the universal nod of overprotective older brothers and sauntered to the bar in the middle of the room. There were a number of travelers, mostly men, crowded around the barkeep.
Yaretzi claimed a corner seat, her hands tucked in her lap. Lallo returned to her side with a flute of peach sake that burned her throat on the way down. Her brother guffawed, mocking her gags. “This is more fun for you than for me,” she grumbled.
Lallo lifted one shoulder. “Maybe,” he said.
More than maybe she thought as she pushed the glass flute aside. She scanned the room, ignoring Lallo when he tugged on her arm. He pinched her and Yaretzi yelped, wheeling on her brother only to find that two men had sat down on his other side. One had Arakemeti black skin while the other had his hood pulled over his face.
“Dejen!” She exclaimed and the man put a finger to his lips. She leaned over her brother. “What are you doing here?”
Lallo smiled knowingly.
Dejen reached out to pat her cheek. “Little one, I’m here with an old friend.” He leaned back and the hooded man beside him leaned forward, removing the cowl.
He sat in front of her, chiseled features and alabaster skin, with full dark brows and thin lips. He frowned severely. The faintest hints of a goatee sprouted on his chin. His black hair reached his jawbone, swept back behind his ears. His eyes, Yaretzi saw, were molten gold and shone just as brightly with a smoldering vexation that seemed to be directed not at her, but at the world entire. Upon meeting her baffled gaze, the anger dissipated just enough that his features softened and she recognized the man that she knew, that she loved.
“Yaretzi,” Lu-Ten rasped, “I’ve missed you.”
Yaretzi swayed in her seat, her head light. Lallo and Dejen reached out to catch her, their firm hands on either side. She was suddenly unable to find words. Lu-Ten stood and crossed the distance between them. She collapsed into his arms. He caught her and she breathed in the smell of him, taking note of the hard lines of his body under his cloak and tunic. He’s real he’s tangible he’s alive. Lu-Ten was alive. Lu-Ten, her husband, her love, her future king was alive. “H-how?”
Lu-Ten smiled slowly. “Because of you,” he answered for their ears alone. “Tenoch and Dejen…” The man paused, his eyes glazing over and Yaretzi shrank away from him. “We should not speak here.” He grabbed her hand, his grip crushing the bones of her fingers. Yaretzi was pulled behind him as Lu-Ten, Lallo, and Dejen exited the tavern. They scurried over to the inn and climbed the steps to the second floor, ducking inside of the room on the corner.
The room had two beds and a lamp. Upon one bed was a pile of clothes thrown with reckless abandon, a haphazard pile of cloaks, pants, and tunics. Upon the other sat Tenoch. He looked up as they entered, smiling grimly. Yaretzi looked around the room. Lallo was too at ease, she realized and anger surged through her. “You knew?!”
Lallo nodded. “I only found out after Izon came to the city…I think it’s better if Tenoch explains.”
Yaretzi sat heavily on the bed. Lu-Ten was still standing, brooding. Tenoch cleared his throat. “It was not out of malice that we kept you in the dark, Yaretzi. It was only that we needed you to focus on the task of swaying the Queen. Those months ago, when Ozai’s supporters infiltrated Al-Imbatu and…” he paused, “killed Lu-Ten, it was your healing fire that kept him from crossing into the afterlife.” Yaretzi’s breath hitched. “With Kofi’s assistance, we smuggled him to a remote village where he could fully recover. For two months fellow members of the White Lotus tended to him and taught him the ways of ruling. Izon and the unnamed dragon found him, and that is when we knew that Lu-Ten must make his presence known.”
“In two days, Lu-Ten will have an audience with the Queen of Arakem.” Tenoch went on. “He will stake his claim to the Fire Nation. It is our hope, Yaretzi, that with your persuasion and the dragons, Hodan will support him.”
She could feel Lu-Ten’s stare. Yaretzi gave a tiny nod. “I imagine you would like some time to get reacquainted with your husband,” Dejen said, “we will reconvene here at dawn to discuss our final plans before Lu-Ten faces Hodan.” His white teeth flashed in elation. “Lallo, bring us some more sake!”
Yaretzi numbly followed Lu-Ten as he led her to another suite on the second floor of the inn, the cool dry night air sitting heavy in her lungs. Silently he opened the door and motioned for her to enter first. He trailed behind, pushing the door closed. The suite, simple but slightly more spacious than the other, was cast in the amber glow of a lamp. Yaretzi wrung her hands. “I can’t believe…” her breath caught in her throat, “I can’t believe you are alive.”
Lu-Ten nodded stiffly, his eyes clouded over. His fists were clenched, his entire body drawn taut. “They killed me.” His voice cracked into a snarl. “There on that bed in Al-Imbatu, slain by a whore.” Yaretzi flinched. He was not looking at her, but rather through her, as if he was reliving those moments. “How many times has my uncle tried to have me murdered, and how many times has he failed? They killed me,” he repeated, “all because I was so stupid. Yaretzi, I-”
“You gave me a bad face,” she interrupted. “I put all of my faith in you and you…” she tore away when he reached for her, “not only did you shame me, you hurt me.” Her eyes welled with tears. If she had not stormed away from him, if he had not hurt her, then none of this would have happened. “If I hadn’t left you…”
Her husband seemed to see her for the first time. He moved to her again and held her hands before she could pull away. Yaretzi stumbled backwards into the wall, her knees weak. Lu-Ten pressed against her, his firm body holding her against the cool sandstone wall. In one serpentine motion one hand had captured her wrists, holding them above her head while the other caressed her cheek with surprising tenderness. “Yaretzi,” Lu-Ten murmured, his eyes dark with an emotion she could not quite name. She had seen desire before in the eyes of men. Moema had not been gentle in her teachings on the ways men operated; she had not spared Yaretzi the ways a man might take advantage of a woman. But this look was not predatory. It went beyond carnal hunger. This was the look of a man who had stumbled upon an oasis. “Yaretzi.”
“Yes?” She dared whisper.
“Don’t ever leave me again. Please?” He said before he covered her lips with his own, kissing her so hungrily that her breath was stolen away. His hand moved her cheek and then to her throat, then to the small of her back, moving from place to place like a tiger moth. He pulled Yaretzi tighter against him and her eyes snapped open as he wedged one of his legs between both of hers, spreading them until their hips touched. “I can’t be without you again.” He released her wrists, holding onto her hips as if she would fly away from him. “Yaretzi,” he whispered desperately. “Be mine. Give yourself to me.”
Yaretzi’s heart fluttered and she drew her mouth away from his, her lips beginning to swell from his persistent attention. “Always,” she whimpered. She let out a yelp when he suddenly swept her off her feet. He held her as though she were made of feathers and clouds, weightless. Yaretzi clung to Lu-Ten’s neck as he deposited her onto the bed in the middle of the room, climbing above her. Moema’s coarse explanations came to mind. “Lu-Ten, stop- I…”
The prince shushed her, his firm hands traveling down the length of her body, kneading and caressing every dip and curve that he encountered. Yaretzi trembled, though she was not sure if it was from pleasure or anticipation. His hands left her bare in more ways than one. He looked down at her, his eyes never leaving hers. She became lost in his eyes, stiffening as she returned to reality. Sensing her hesitancy, Lu-Ten leaned up and ran a gentle hand through her hair. “You know I would never hurt you. You are my Citlali in the flesh, the queen who will be by my side until the end of days. Will you?”
She nodded and Lu-Ten seized her lips once more at the same time a sharp pain mushroomed up through her core, tears springing to her eyes. She cried out against his tongue, pushing back against him with her hands on his chest but Lu-Ten would not yield, holding her arms over her head. Yaretzi writhed, her arms locked above her head. It felt as though she was falling away. She melted into his hands, euphoric. He kissed her until their breaths became one, until she was dizzy and the ceiling spun over their heads. Lu-Ten began to pant, his eyes crazed, his movements erratic. He squeezed his eyes shut and raised his head to look at the ceiling, calling out to whatever god was listening. Chest heaving he gazed down at Yaretzi, stroking her hair away from her forehead.
Lu-Ten rolled onto his back. Yaretzi pulled her knees up to her chest as she sat up, wrapping her arms around her middle. The space between her thighs ached. She had not imagined it to be like this. Their marriage felt like it was ages ago, and never once had Lu-Ten touched her unkindly or aggressively. Moema had explained it to her but still…He tugged at a lock of her hair. This was not the Lu-Ten she remembered, but then again her husband had been murdered and resurrected. The man she remembered no longer existed. “Yaretzi,” she looked at him and he pulled her back against him, “I missed you.”
She settled in his arms as he kissed her tenderly, gently pulling her into his lap. His eyes were desperate, hands clinging to her skin as if she were his only anchor. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wept into the crook of her neck. Dragonkeeper dragonkeeper, her mind whispered, and in the reflection of his gaze Yaretzi saw dragons wearing crowns.
——-
The morning of the day of Lu-Ten’s audience with Hodan saw him awake in a black rage. Yaretzi stirred from the bed, roused by his vitriolic cursing of the Phoenix King. He stormed about the room of the inn, hurling insult after insult at his uncle, the Phoenix King, and the nation of sheep that followed him. His knuckles were bruised from punching at the walls. Yaretzi could hear Izon and Izara roaring in agitation. She sprang from the bed, gripping his upper arm. Lu-Ten whirled on her and Yaretzi shrank back until his eyes softened with recognition.
He’s going mad , she despaired. “Lu-Ten,” she dared to touch him again, “I’m here.”
Lu-Ten stared down at her. A clarity had washed over his countenance. “Yaretzi, they will destroy me.” He paced the room and Yaretzi wondered who he was thinking of. His uncle? Or the Order of the White Lotus? She tightened her hold on his arm and willed him to stare into her eyes. Tenoch and Dejen had made it clear that if he should show any signs of becoming like his uncle then they would not hesitate to get rid of him.
Dragonkeeper.
“They won’t,” she declared, “because you will be a great Fire Lord. Now get dressed, Hodan will only be patient for so long.”
Her husband’s breath rattled as he exhaled and moved to change into the white and green tunic that Dejen had provided him. Yaretzi stared at the jagged, puckered red scar that ran from his navel to ribs. He shrugged on the white burnoose cloak that was embroidered with gold thread, tossing the length of fabric over his shoulders. She reached out to smooth a wrinkle and he caught her wrist. “Let me do this on my own,” he said.
Yaretzi dressed in her finest, sliding the band that held her veil in place over her hair. She turned back to face her husband and they nodded at each other. And then they went to face the Queen of Arakem.
She was having coffee with her great uncle Dejen and Princess Osana in the audience room. The little girl sat lotus style at the foot of the dais, sipping elegantly at her cup of steamed milk to emulate the adults. Yaretzi entered first, holding her chin high as she crossed the distance from the doors to the foot of the throne.
Hodan quirked a brow. “I did not summon you.”
“I know,” Yaretzi replied and Dejen gave an ephemeral nod behind Hodan’s shoulder. “But I come to you with a request that I am sure you will not refuse. After all, there are two dragons that have made the outskirts of your capital their home.” Hodan sat up straight and her cat-eyed daughter climbed into her lap. Yaretzi pressed on. “I request for you to deliver twenty thousand foot soldiers and earthbenders to conjoin on the Estival Peninsula and then on the Fire Nation. In return, once I am ordained as the Fire Lady of the Fire Nation, I personally will see to it that you are repaid double of the expenses.” She met the emerald green gaze of the Arakemeti queen.
Hodan descended from her throne, lovingly pushing her daughter into Dejen’s arms, and walked up to Yaretzi until they were toe to toe. Yaretzi refused to look away. Hodan sniffed deeply and smirked. “You’ve been touched by a man,” she chuckled, “is that why you’ve become so emboldened and delusional? You said it yourself, you are too indigenous for them to accept you. And your husband is a rotting corpse in the ground. What claim would you have to the title of Fire Lady?”
Yaretzi bared her teeth in a wry smile. “I am the wife of the rightful Fire Lord, Lu-Ten son of Crown Prince Iroh.” The doors of the throne room were thrown open and she could hear the snap of the burnoose as her husband proudly and boldly strode forward. He looked every bit a Sun Warrior, every bit a Prince of the Fire Nation. He had pulled his hair into a topknot, staring down at Hodan as he came to Yaretzi’s side.
“Your Highness.”
Hodan gaped and then spun around to her uncle. Dejen’s face was unreadable. “Do you play me for a fool?!”
Lu-Ten shook his head but did not cower. “Quite the opposite.” He lifted his shirt, revealing the scar. “This is the work of one of my uncle’s spies. A spy that managed to slip past your borders undetected. How many more of Ozai’s knives hide amongst your servants and kin? He has shown time and time again that he has little regard for diplomacy after he had the Water Tribe chief murdered. Who is to say that his next dagger will not be aimed at your throat? Or your daughter’s?” He looked pointedly at little Osana. “We all know that Ozai has no qualms about hurting children. If I had not been smuggled away, he would’ve killed me when I was three years old. And yet here I stand, almost twenty two years later. Alive despite his best efforts. And now I shall reclaim what is rightfully mine.”
“I can offer you the wealth and independence that your nation deserves. We will be allies in war and in peace. If you stand by me now, then I will stand by you forever.” Lu-Ten grasped Yaretzi’s hand in his own and gave it a tight squeeze. “I ask for an army that will follow me to the Fire Nation with my dragons and from there I will proceed to the capital and end my uncle’s line from base to branches.”
Hodan floundered for control of the conversation, taken aback by the course of events. Yaretzi could see her calculating, obviously thinking of the dragons that had stationed themselves in her city. She glanced back at her daughter, wrapped up in Dejen’s arms and her expression softened.
At last she turned back to Lu-Ten and Yaretzi, her nod almost indiscernible. “I will give you twenty thousand swords and spears and eight thousand elite earthbenders. When you make good on your promise, you will pay me back twofold. After I have been reimbursed from my investment in you, we will draw up a mutually beneficial trade agreement.” Hodan ground her teeth. “Dejen! Fetch my council. We will forge this contract to be signed at dawn three days from now. Then we will issue the clarion call to assemble the men. Until then, get out of my sight.”
Yaretzi struggled to keep herself from skipping with joy as she and Lu-Ten walked hand in hand from the audience chamber.
The doors closed loudly behind them. Lu-Ten swept her up and kissed her deeply. Yaretzi leaned back on her heels, hearing a purposely obnoxious cough. Lallo beamed as he brought both of them into an embrace. “You have Yaretzi to thank for this, brother. She spent the last two months chipping away at the stone queen at the expense of her own pride.”
Lu-Ten nodded, his smile genuine, and he once again looked like the man she had fallen in love with. Not the prince who came back from the dead, angry and thirsty for vengeance. Not the man who traipsed on the edge of madness and greatness. The sour moments between them dissipated.
The young trio sauntered proudly through the glittering halls of the palace of Arakem. They entered the great yard of the palace where the queen had built her carefully curated gardens. The paved path wound through leaning white willows and resplendent violet and blue wisterias, joined with thick cordias and olive trees. Yaretzi spotted a number of lemon trees amongst them. A fish pond gurgled beside a stone bench. Through the branches Yaretzi could see the morning sky.
“I suppose I should start practicing my bow.” Lallo said blithely. “Fire Lord Lu-Ten. Fire Lady Yaretzi.” He tasted the words on his tongue. “And Lord Lallo, his chief council. I like the sound of that, hm?”
“We have to win the throne first, Lallo.” Yaretzi smiled. She felt Lu-Ten stiffen beside her. Lallo was observing the Sun Warrior’s face, a cautious frown dragging his lips down. Yaretzi dared to glance at her husband.
His good humor had burned away, drowning in the heaving sea of his own thoughts, a dreadfully familiar haunted glaze having entered his eyes. A pit opened in Yaretzi’s stomach and bile churned within her. Lallo had seen it as well, though he was quicker to neutralize his expression.
The two dragons flew over the city, breathing multicolored bursts of flame that gleamed brighter than the stars, great wings casting great shadows over the streets below. Yaretzi raised her face to the sky and felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. She turned to look once more at her husband, lost amongst his own ghosts, treading through the swamp of fury that had soaked itself deep into his blood. What have we created? She wondered. A king. A dragon.
Lu-Ten leveled her in his stare, his smile easy and bright, and Yaretzi knew that the Fire Nation would burn.
Chapter 45: The Princess Bride
Notes:
TW: SA.
If you’d prefer to skip, stop reading after “Nightfall found her alone.”
Chapter Text
Yue
A war was being waged in the palace.
At the same time there was a wedding to be planned, a decadent farce that soured everything Yue ate. Ursa was planning the event with half malicious, half genuine glee. What woman wouldn’t want to see her son married? Fire Nation weddings were long, needlessly drawn out affairs that lasted nearly two days, and involved a series of religious ceremonies. Water Tribe weddings were just as extravagant, but not nearly as verbose. Yue, fortunately, simply had to show up. For some reason that only she was privy to, Ursa had decided that the ceremony should take place in two months’ time, as ordained by the Fire Sages as the most auspicious day of the year. Naturally the rapidly upcoming day set the entire palace (and much of the caldera) into a frenzy of preparations that saw shipments and deliveries pouring in at all times of the day. Hordes of food and favors filtered in through the palatial complex and the cleaning crews were working their poor callused fingers until their knuckles were bleeding.
Azula alternated between glaring and mocking in turns. Perhaps it had occurred to her that she would have to share her brother for the first time in her life. It was a feeling that Yue could empathize with, in a sense. Though they were ten years apart, Kuruk was her brother, before he would be anything to anyone else. And Zuko was Azula’s brother. It was different, though. As the younger sibling, Azula had never known life without him. She stared at Yue as they faced each other in the training yard, the midday sun turning her eyes into true gold. “I suppose I will have to call you sister soon enough,” she snickered. “You’ll have to endure me for the rest of your life.” With a spin she launched into her first attack, kicking out a blast of azure flame before catapulting herself into a cartwheel, each foot blasting out bursts of fire. Yue rolled into defense, ducking low to the ground and pedaling on all fours.
Tui threw herself forward with a growl that would make lesser men quake with fear. She had grown into a vicious beast in battle, standing nearly as tall as Yue’s hip and fangs covered in foam from bloodlust. She came at Azula, ducking between her legs and tearing at her pant leg. Yue chose that moment to use her momentum to rise to her feet, lunging with a two knuckled fist at the Fire Nation princess.
Azula slapped it away easily, gripping Yue’s wrist and twisting it back. Yue cried out as Azula twisted her arm behind her back and pressed her knee into her spine. The firebender cursed as Tui yanked her off kilter, slinging her sideways and away from her mistress. The unwitting recipient of the force exerted from the firebender and the polar dog, Yue was thrown forward onto her knees. Azula fired a jet of fire that Tui dodged. “You’ll have to do better than that, sister .” She smirked and slid into a finishing form.
Yue somersaulted once, twice, and then a third time until she was in the clear. Azula’s flame charred the ground where her head had been moments before, and for a heartbeat Yue wondered if they were still training. She struggled to her feet, only to be pulled back by Azula’s fist in her braid, a blade of fire at her throat. Yue gasped for breath. “I yield!” She shouted out and the princess released her.
“Impressive.” Azula offered. “Still no match for me, of course, but you’ve come a long way.” She dipped in a bow that signaled the end of their spar and Yue mirrored her. “It would be generous to call you worthy of being of the House of Sozin, but you’re far from the pathetic little ice lily you were.”
“I am not an ice lily,” Yue retorted. “I am a Koi.”
“And with Mother’s meddling, you will soon be a Phoenix.” Azula set off back to the palace. “You do know that you and my blundering brother will have to…” the smile she threw back at Yue was a devious one, “consummate the union.”
Yue paused. She had considered that, though only in passing. The whole situation still left like a fever dream. Her mind had been elsewhere, devising her next move. Ursa had been sure to never be too far away from the Phoenix King, obsequious to the point of being subservient. Her generosity knew no bounds throughout the palace, doling out favors and gifts on a whim, treating common blood and noble alike to dinners and socials. Maiko’s words echoed in Yue’s mind. Quiet is the hand that sharpens the knife. “I wouldn’t think it necessary,” she replied at last, “especially since your mother has everything perfectly aligned. Why should it matter if our marriage is legitimized when it has already been decided that Zuko’s future bastard child with Mai will inherit the throne?” The noble class would only tolerate so much, even from a family that was more akin to the gods. “Any child of Zuko’s will only push you further down the line of succession.” Not like it had mattered to Ozai. If anything, it had fueled his fervent desire for the throne even further, spurred on by the plotting whispers of his wife. “It wouldn’t bode well for the royal family to have two upheavals in two generations.”
Azula’s lip curled. “If I wanted to dispose of my brother, I would have done it by now. The Heir’s Crown would look better on my head, but if it came between choosing him and a conniving weasel, I would have no hesitation about burning an enemy alive.” She brushed a stray hair away from her forehead as they walked through the halls of the inner sanctum. “Besides, Zuzu needs me. He’s nothing without my guidance. He’s too soft.” Without warning she whirled on Yue, catching the older girl’s chin between forefinger and thumb. “You’ve survived this long. It would be wise of you to not overstep.”
Yue slapped her hand away with a glare of her own. “I’ll keep that in mind, sister.” She beamed sweetly, prompting a snort of derision from the Fire Nation princess.
“Yue!” The mellifluous tinkle of the Phoenix Queen rang out from further down the hall. The older woman glided down the corridor toward them, trailed by a number of planners, servants, and seamstresses. “I was just looking for you in your rooms, come along.” She took hold of Yue’s forearm, pulling her closer. “There’s so many preparations and so little time. Azula, dear, go find your brother. He mentioned a meeting with the Ministry of Development this morning.” Azula’s eyes flashed towards Yue, scanning her face and Yue eased her brow before it could furrow any deeper.
She had heard Zuko speak many times of the Ministry of Development and his involvement in an undertaking, though he had never been inclined to offer much detail and Yue had never thought to ask. He was hesitant to say anything beyond that the project was going better than expected, and even then there was a peculiar, strained glint in his eyes.
Azula’s countenance had darkened. She nodded once to her mother and strode away, leaving Yue with her foe. Yue lifted her chin, capturing the queen in the ice of her stare. They did not speak, the air between them frigid and brittle. Ursa patted Yue’s cheek with maternal affection, her lips pursed in a smile. “Come along, sweet one, we have to get you fitted for your dresses. The last royal wedding was my own. More than twenty years ago. I wore three different gowns and three different hairstyles. That was a pauper’s ceremony in comparison to that of the Traitor Iroh and his bride. He was the Crown Prince and she was to be the future Fire Lady, until, well. Their celebration feast had fourteen different courses. That was the dynasty of the dragon. We are of the Phoenix. You must look nothing less than perfect.”
Ursa guided Yue to the head seamstress’s designated office space, a series of three rooms with only one door as the entrance and exit. The first was a disaster of fabrics and half sewn garments scattered over padded stools and a burgundy chaise in the middle of the room. A tri-glass mirror was positioned in front of a step-stool and a low table covered in thread and needles and shears. The head seamstress detached from the rest of the group, pushing her spectacles higher on her freckled face. Ursa nudged Yue towards the step stool and mirror.
“Princess, if you would?” The seamstress gestured for Yue to strip down to her bindings. She hesitated for a moment before removing her training vest and pants, passing them to a waiting servant. Long gone were her qualms about perceived propriety. The firebenders viewed nudity in private differently from her own culture, and over time she had begun to conform to their standards. The gray haired woman snatched up a measuring tape from the table and unwound it around Yue’s bust and waist, biting out the measurements to her frail assistant. She hummed as she worked, measuring Yue’s hips and the length of her legs, and head. “For your coronet.” She explained. “Crown Prince Zuko will wear the Heir’s Crown.”
Ursa had seated herself on the chaise, her hands folded primly in her lap. “The previous wedding tiara was lost when…it was cremated along with the late Iroh’s wife. Fire Lady Ilah’s tiara should suit her just fine, Chiyoko, with minor adjustments. Perhaps replace the citrine with garnets to show up against her hair, don’t you think?” She scrutinized Yue. “Don’t lament the fact that you won’t have a Water Tribe wedding, Yue. Have we been nothing but kind to you? Besides, I’ve always wanted two daughters.”
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. The Phoenix Queen’s words had cut deep. It was supposed to be her mother at the chaise, overseeing the most grandiose day of Yue’s life. It was supposed to be her father presenting her to her husband, not the man who had all but destroyed everything she had ever known. She squinted the burn of the tears away and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Ursa had set the board, and it had taken Yue a while to learn the rules, but now she knew the game. Ursa had given her the weak link to maneuver as she chose. Zuko, mild though he might be, was the Crown Prince. Ursa had guided Ozai’s hand behind the tapestry, and Yue would learn to do the same while she chiseled away at the foundations of the colossus.
The dynasty of the Phoenix King, she swore, would fall from within. The head and the feet until it crumbled and collapsed in upon itself.
She would wear four dresses throughout the wedding ritual. The first would be blue and black as she met with the Fire Sages to bless herself and her union. The colors of the Water Tribe were blue and white, but white was the color of grief in the Fire Nation. It would have been an apt choice, she thought bitterly. The second would be Fire Nation red and Phoenix orange for the actual wedding, and the third would be a muted burgundy for the feast. The fourth could hardly be called a gown at all. It was to be a long silk and satin chemise that would be the last thing she wore for the night. The expectation was that afterwards she would wear nothing at all.
After the seamstress fitted her, Yue was dismissed to do as she chose. With Tui at her heels, the princess made her way to Zuko’s rooms, where she knew she would find him. Like his father, he was a creature of habit and was a borderline recluse. The heir apparent’s quarters faced the sunrise on the east wing of the palace, only a corridor away from Azula’s.
She rapped once on the closed door and took a step back. Zuko was typically the one who fetched her, though she had been inside once or twice. He was an avid reader and upon every table there seemed to be scrolls and books and maps. The door creaked open. Prince Zuko peered out at her, his eyes lighting up in surprise. “Yue.” Her name came out as both a question and exclamation. “Hi.”
Yue couldn’t help but giggle. “May I come inside?”
Zuko stepped aside. He had removed his crown, dressed in a simple tunic that suggested he had no further intentions of entertaining anyone for the rest of the day. Yue blinked in surprise to see Azula seated cross legged on her brother’s bed, her feline eyes snapping up at the intrusion. Her thick black hair fell freely over her shoulders and Yue had realized she had never seen the siblings so at ease. They had been studying what looked to be a blueprint or a site plan, though Azula quickly rolled the paper and tucked it away. “How are the fittings going?” Zuko seemed as detached from the wedding as she was, as if it was happening to someone else and not them.
She shrugged as she moved further into the room. The first time she had entered had been when Zuko had drank himself into a stupor, after they had witnessed the proof of the Phoenix Queen’s infidelity. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”
Yue had still been unable to confirm if the man who had his wanton hands under the woman’s skirt was the gardener who charmed her so brazenly in the garden. Her suspicions were that it was. They were both from Hira’a, and then Ikem had arrived not long after. He had managed to evade Ozai’s keen gaze for well over twenty years. Then again, the Phoenix King was so enamored with his wife that perhaps he could not fathom her betrayal.
Zuko smiled softly. “Me too.”
Azula yawned with enough dramatic flair that Yue knew she had done it to draw attention to herself. “Did you hear, Yue? They’ve confirmed who the real Avatar is.” Her voice danced with savage glee, the same whimsical tone that her mother seemed to have such a predilection towards. “The Southern girl that sank the ship. Now more than ever I wish it had been her instead of you. I could have fought the Avatar .” She wrinkled her nose. “But instead I’m stuck with you two.”
The words flew over her head before she could register them. Katara was the Avatar. Part of her had known it was true, though she had hoped…she had hoped that at least one of them had been fortunate enough to have some semblance of stability in their life. “I’m sorry for being so underwhelming.” Zuko deadpanned.
“Some shortcomings can be forgiven.” Azula uncrossed her legs, chucking him under the chin. She passed Yue on her way out with a pointed look.
Zuko wrung his hands, fidgeting. With nerves as fragile as his, at times it was hard to believe he was Ozai’s son. Yue sat on the edge of the bed, drawing her legs up into the lotus position. “Mother is pushing for me to decide on where we should go for our…” his cheeks flushed darker, “after the wedding. I was thinking we could go island hopping for a week or so. You haven’t really had the chance to see much of the Fire Nation outside of the caldera.” The smile he gave her was a boyish one, and Yue found herself unexpectedly warming in her core. He had all of Ozai’s beauty but none of his wrath. “We can ride ocelot-horses on the coast of Shuhon Island and Fireclaw Isle. You’ve never seen a civet-bat, have you?”
Yue shook her head. “We don’t have those in the North Pole.” Any place was better than here. “Have you visited these places?”
The Prince fetched a map of the archipelago from his desk and unfurled it in front of her on the bed. Yue slid over to allow him enough space to sit, craning her neck to study the islands of the Fire Nation. The capital was the largest by far, flanked by the much smaller Ember Island and a tiny land mass that had no name. “Only a few. There are twenty-three big islands in the archipelago,” Zuko indicated to a number of them on the map. “There used to be a bunch of warring clans on the islands, and they spent centuries killing each other instead of cultivating all the resources. The twenty three islands are named after the clans. The smaller ones like this one,” he tapped his finger, “are either sparsely inhabited or used for industry. Here is where dragons used to live back in the days of magic, or so they say.”
Before he was murdered, it was said that the Phoenix King’s nephew had an indigenous sorceress wife and a dragon.
“The Water Tribes were like that,” Yue said. “They call it the Dark Times. The clans fought each other and many perished when famine and disease came. Finally, two men from one clan decided to unite them all. One man stayed in the North and became the Koi house. The other took the other half of the clans and moved to the South Pole. The Polar Bear Dogs.” It was said that Nanook and Apaataroq were brothers that had been blessed by La the ocean spirit and Tui the moon spirit, and were divinely mandated to unify the Tribes. Some even said they were twins.
Zuko was nodding, almost to himself. “So technically, you are related to the Polar Bear Dogs of the Southern Water Tribe.”
Yue snorted. “If you traced the family trees back for thousands of years, yes.” She wrinkled her nose teasingly. “That’s the way with royalty. Everyone is related in some way or another.” Yue leaned forward and put a gossamer kiss on her betrothed’s cheek, feeling his skin grow warmer. “In any case, pick an island and that’s where we’ll start.”
——-
The man who had replaced Takuma, Ozai’s previous advisor, and two of the Fire Sages were watching her.
Subtly. She caught them peeking around corners, ducking away like thieves in the night when she turned. They had never paid her much mind before, beyond what decorum required. To them she was merely the hostage, and later the betrothed of their beloved Crown Prince. They had decided her fate without even knowing her name.
The Phoenix King, too, had taken to studying her in a way that he hadn’t previously. A curious inexplicable combination of sudden physical interest and a dark, epiphanic stare that suggested he had been solving a puzzle and she was the missing piece. She would have preferred if he had looked at her in disgust or in apathy as opposed to peeling her skin back with his eyes. He did not purposely seek her out, though she saw him with unprecedented frequency. In the halls, the gardens after sunset, the training cloister at dawn when she meditated.
It was there where she encountered him, illuminated by the rising sun. He looked every bit a god, like the Agni that the firebenders worshiped. He knelt, his hair half up and half down, bare chested and barefoot. Yue stopped in her tracks, sliding behind the threshold of the opening into the space. She had left Tui in her room, slumbering at the foot of her bed. Yue held her breath.
For once the Phoenix King did not notice her. If he had, he chose not to acknowledge her. Yue pressed her back against the wall and centered herself. Her betrothal to Zuko had set her plans asunder. She had intended to chip away at the Phoenix King’s infallible dedication to his queen, but Ursa had unwittingly given her an easier way. As she watched, two red clad men emerged from behind the plinths of the massive columns. One was tall and appeared to be of an age with the Phoenix King. Takuma’s replacement was a man from the Crescent Isle, according to Azula, whose family had once been warlords. He was taciturn and thin faced, and rarely smiled. He wore armor and Yue wondered who had warned him of the tragic fate that befell those who crossed the Phoenix King. The other man was a Fire Sage. From his belt dangled golden ropes and his hair was covered by a red and black skullcap. The two men approached the Phoenix King, bowing in deference. Yue strained her ears.
“Your Highness.” The Fire Sage greeted him.
“I believe we have brought news that will be most pleasing to you.” The advisor said. (His name, his name? What was it?) Tzumoro, that was it. Tzumoro, whose family sigil was a pythonaconda, the cross of a python and an anaconda, who had licked enough boots until he had found himself basking in the good graces of the Phoenix King. “Should we move to a more private space, my lord?”
Ozai did not move, as motionless as he had been moments before. After what seemed like an hour, he shook his head. “Tell me what you have found.”
Tzumoro’s yellow-gray eyes roved over the yard. “Perhaps under that awning would be better. The queen and I have worked diligently to weed out disloyal ears, but gold purses will always tempt lesser men.” He led the Phoenix King and the Fire Sage to one of the pillars of the building, barely more than thirty feet away from Yue. She bit her tongue until it bled, sliding her feet to avoid making a sound as she moved deeper into the shadows. Not for the first time she cursed the color of her hair, though luckily she had swept it to the back of her head.
The three men formed a tight circle. “I believe we have deciphered the ancient code at last, my lord. The poles are both hosts to the spirit portals. The Seats of the Demiurge. If you wish to harvest its power, my lord, you know what must be done.” Tzumoro’s voice was little more than a whisper and Yue had to strain to make out his words.
“We must ensure that the Avatar does not make it back to either of the poles. If she does, then she will be able to ruin everything.” The Fire Sage seemed to be calculating as he spoke. “The eclipse is the only time we will be able to carry through with the plan. Before then, we must complete the rest of the tasks.” There was the sound of shuffling and Yue dared to peek. He had withdrawn a scroll from the deep pocket of his religious garb. “Of course it would be easier if we had dragon’s blood, but alas we must make the resources available sufficient.”
“And of the girl?” Ozai’s growl caused Yue to startle.
“The project is still going well, your grace. And in any case there’s not much she can do once she’s married to Zuko.” Tzumoro responded dismissively. “She has never been much of a threat to anything or anyone. Of course, her value will increase as the eclipse approaches. A bit of her blood will suffice.”
Yue felt the salty and metallic taste of blood and bile fill her throat. Her blood? Horror surged through her and the sickening realization that she had grossly miscalculated. The Phoenix Queen was dangerous in a more traditional sense, but the Phoenix King was involved in something much more sinister that far exceeded political machinations. He wanted to utilize the spiritual abundance of the Water Tribe’s land, but for what? And why did he need her blood? She was surrounded by enemies on all sides, all of them with the intention to destroy her in more ways than one. Yue sagged against the pillar.
A hand fisted her hair, causing her head to snap back. Her neck screamed in protest and Yue let out a rasping wail. Tzumoro and the Fire Sage were gone. The Phoenix King stood behind her, his fingers still embedded in her hair. He had pulled her back until she was against his bare chest, the heat of his body burning her through her shirt. She felt incredibly small. He was able to kill her or maim her or worse if he so chose. Ozai lowered his head until his lips were against her ear, his glare digging under her skin. Yue whimpered, twisting in an attempt to free herself. He jerked her back against him, and for the first time she found herself on the receiving end of his strength. “Do you want me to kill you now, girl?” His voice was low, rough like gravel.
Yue’s voice bubbled up in tears.
Aggravated, Ozai yanked harder on her hair, pulling a handful of strands free. “I do not tolerate weakness and disrespect. Stop crying. I shall repeat myself only once. Do you want me to kill you now?”
She found the strength to shake her head and choked back the sob that hung at the back of her throat. “Y-y-you need me.” She stammered out and hoped she sounded braver than she felt.
Ozai’s laughter was harsh and grating. He shoved her forward until her face and chest were against the pillar, his powerful hand now holding both of her wrists behind her back with bruising force while the other still grasped her hair. His hips pinned her in place. Yue gasped, bawling uncontrollably as Ozai chuckled. “Your penchant for eavesdropping has given you an inflated sense of importance. Rest assured, girl, I will have no qualms about killing you at this moment. Don’t fret, I’d take my time. The gods did make you pleasing.”
Yue sniveled and whimpered, the cold grit of the pillar digging into her cheek. He could take her now if he so chose and she would be powerless to stop him. He wanted to, she could tell. “Please don’t.” She sounded minuscule, pleading and pathetic.
Ozai pushed her away. “Do you think me such a fool that I would dishonor my son’s bride?”
Yue stumbled until she was on her hands and knees, her vision blurred by tears. Ozai glared down at her, his eyes two gleaming suns. She balked under their heat. “Never,” her reply became ice and steel, “the morning star would never stoop so low.” She glared back up at him, quaking with fear, and she did not blink until he walked away.
——
On the first day of the wedding ceremony, just before dawn, Yue was awakened by an army of servants headed by Ursa barging into her room. “Up, up, little one, today is the day!” The Phoenix Queen swept in with flourish, gently nudging a confused Tui aside. She put her arms around Yue’s waist, hoisting her up from where she had been slumped on the bed.
Yue groaned in exasperation, too tired to hate the Phoenix Queen. Ursa dragged her up into a sitting position and then yanked on her hands until Yue was standing. The servants began to work at her hair, pulling apart her braids while others slipped over her night robe, ushering her to the bathing room.
They dunked her in the warm water of the tub, pouring citrus and rose infused water over her head. A soft handed girl worked sweet smelling soap into her hair, her hands surprisingly gentle as she combed through Yue’s white locks and massaged her scalp. At the other side of the tub another woman was using a porous pumice stone to scrub away at her feet. She was scrubbed and rinsed, and then washed again. They used towels made from koala sheep wool to dry her skin as they helped her out of the tub. Yue shivered more from the shock of the bath than from the chill.
A lounging chair had been sat in the middle of the room, accompanied by a folding table. Upon it was a pot of molten wax and strips of white cloth. Yue blanched. “I really don’t think that’s necessary,” she stammered as one of the older women plopped her into the seat. “Really, I don’t-”
“Nonsense, Princess.” The lead woman waved her refusal away. Two others began to coat Yue’s legs and underarms in wax, slapping the white cotton strips on top. Yue screeched as they pulled it away from her skin, taking the fine hair away with it. “We mustn’t tarry. Now draw your legs up, please.”
Yue yowled as they ripped away every unwanted hair and what felt like parts of her flesh as well. Beauty is pain, her mother would say, but Yue would rather be hideous for the rest of her life. She was sure that she would wake up the entire household with her screams.
Ursa had been gracious enough to turn away while they bathed her and applied the depillary. Yue’s feet were shoved into slippers and she was shuffled naked back into the room. “Maya, fetch the tiara.” Ursa ordered as Yue was forced to stand on a stool.
Like a doll, she was manipulated into bindings before a thin linen shift was slipped over her head. Powerless, Yue could only watch as they brought forward the first dress. She gasped.
The seamstresses had crafted a gown that was no less than breathtaking. Ursa had been far from penurious when commissioning the dress. Folds of arctic blue and infinite black silk had been cut into a floor sweeping kimono. Koi fish had been embroidered along the hem and down the edges of the dress’s front. Yue held her breath as she opened her arms. The servants slipped the gown onto her, wrapping a wide sash around her waist and drawing it tight. It was dark blue, the same color as the twilight sky. At the same time, Yue’s damp hair was combed into a topknot and bound by a neutral light brown ribbon. They painted her face with a peach lip stain and dusted her eyelids with gold flakes, slipping her feet into wooden platform sandals.
The servant Maya had returned with the diadem. It was encased in a wooden box that she held before her, stepping slowly into the room. With both hands she presented the box to Ursa and opened the lid.
The tiara was a coronet wrought from radiant gold that had been fused with titanium. Its color seemed to change at every angle where the light touched it. The metal had been worked into the shape of a dancing flame. In the center was a blood garnet that gleamed, framed by geometric cabochons of rubies and citrine. “This was the diadem of our King’s mother, Fire Lady Ilah.” Ursa removed the headpiece from the box with care. “She was beloved by all, highbrow and common alike.” The Phoenix Queen set the coronet on Yue’s head, stepping back to admire her work. “You look nothing less than beautiful.”
By the time they finished bathing and dressing her, nearly four hours had passed. Yue turned to the mirror. It was true. The headpiece suited her, drawing the eye to the gem studded flame and her blue eyes. Ursa rested her hands on Yue’s shoulders. “Now you will go to be blessed by the Fire Sages. There you will pray.” Her voice dropped for Yue’s ears alone. “Make sure your prayers are genuine ones.”
“They always have been, my lady.” Yue stood taller and as the servants escorted her out of her rooms, she glanced back to see the Phoenix Queen staring back at her, face unreadable.
The palace contained its own temple that was almost as large as the public sanctuary that serviced the entire caldera. Its black pagoda roof rose high above the others. The entrance was a gaping maw at the end of the long path from the palace proper. A fountain with a statue in the shape of a raptor spreading its wings had been constructed in front of it. Yue craned her neck to take in the sight of the Fire Temple. She inhaled as she stepped under the dark overhanging roof. Hip height stone columns had been set alight to illuminate the way within. Balancing precariously on the wooden sandals, Yue held the hem of her kimono above her ankles as she shuffled deeper inside.
The interior of the temple was cavernous. It splintered into four smaller corridors, though the sliding wood doors were closed. Sconces elucidated the center of the space where there was an altar. The head Fire Sage stood at the altar and kneeling before him was Zuko.
The Crown Prince wore a black and red vest and dark pants. His crown flashed bright from the flames. Yue moved to join him, kneeling at his side on her knees. She dared to glance at him. In the weeks since her encounter with Ozai, she had made a concerted effort to stay close to Zuko. She had been unable to decipher the Phoenix King’s nefarious plan due to the marriage preparations, and it had been unsafe to share her suspicions with Zuko. Surely not with Azula, who had the worst traits of her mother and father. Zuko offered her an unsteady smile. In a matter of moments they would be married in front of the gods.
The chief Fire Sage was a man grizzled and gray from age. Yue studied him. They were all snakes in red, plotting in the physical realm and the spiritual one. Zuko looked at her curiously and Yue realized she had tensed, her knuckles turning white where she gripped her gown. She forced herself to relax.
“To the spirit-gods and the Shining Lord Agni, I present Prince Zuko and Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe.” The Fire Sage was quiet but commanding. “We ask that you bless this union of ice and fire, that you bind them by soul and creed.” From his sleeves he produced a vial of a sour smelling oil, dabbing a bit on his fingers. “May their union be a blessed one.” With his thumb, he rubbed the oil over Zuko’s forehead and then Yue’s. “May they fall through the flames of greatness and emerge in the holy image of Agni. May they rise as high as the Phoenix.” His voice was unwavering. “Prince Zuko, Princess Yue, bow your heads. Pray with your whole hearts.”
Yue did as she was bid, closing her eyes. She prayed that she would find her way home and that her enemies would fall. She prayed that whatever evil that the Phoenix King was conjuring would falter and fail. She prayed that Katara would evade the Fire Nation and that Sokka would become the warrior that his nation needed. Yue raised her head.
Before the eyes of the spirit-gods, Yue and Zuko were married.
Zuko’s lips were a firm line. Yue held his gaze as he helped her to her feet, linking his fingers through hers. It was a farce of a marriage, but they would show a united front. They exchanged no words, and Zuko’s hand was clammy and trembling. The reassuring smile she attempted was just as tenuous.
By the time evening fell and the vespertine feasts had begun, Yue had been pushed and pulled into three different dresses. She had existed in a haze during the public wedding, her mind and eyes far away as her lips moved into the vows that she had been forced to memorize. The sea of onlookers had been unending, and Ursa’s analytical eye had cut into her like a dagger in her spine. Azula was uncharacteristically muted, another victim of her mother’s meddling coerced into a red floor length dress. They were ushered into the extravagant social wing where Ursa had spared no yuan. The caldera’s elite crowded the halls, clad in their finest. Yue sat at the head table with Zuko on her left and Azula to her right. The diadem felt heavy in her head, weighing down her brow. She resisted the urge to tug at the high collar of the burgundy gown. It was perhaps the most exquisite yet the most simple of the three, with its high leg slits and bell shaped sleeves.
The noble families of the Fire Nation circled the table like crocosharks, their smiles like fangs, their compliments like poison. Mai’s family seemed to be the most genuine of them all, placated by the promise of their bloodline inheriting the throne.
An endless amount of food poured out of the kitchens. Fruit and cheeses, finger sized portions of bread. Chili-honey salmonshrimp over a bed of rice and onions. Garlic roasted komodo-chicken and mushrooms. A needlessly complex dish of rice noodles, vegetables, rice, and sliced turtle-duck was served. It had been heavily spiced to the point that Yue’s eyes watered at the mere smell of it. She had no appetite, only nibbling for decorum’s sake. The wine was making her head hurt. Azula raked her nails over Yue’s leg, causing her to flinch. “The clock is ticking, sister dear.”
Ursa made her rounds about the table, leaning down to kiss her son’s cheek. She did the same to Yue with the gossamer kiss of a loving mother. “Try to relax, little one, aren’t you excited to be a part of the family? Don’t look so sad.”
“Was Ikem sad when he watched you marry Ozai?” Yue hissed through gritted teeth. “Or did you assure him that you’d still let him burrow under your skirt?”
Ursa froze. “He wept tears of joy,” she replied through a courtier’s smile. “And even more so when he left Hira’a and came to the caldera.”
Yue covered the Phoenix Queen’s hand with her own, leaning against the woman as a grateful daughter would. “It’d be a shame if your husband suddenly developed an interest in your favorite garden.”
“My husband has never had an inclination for moon roses.” Ursa straightened. “Let us all toast the newlyweds!” Her grip was firm as she pulled Yue and Zuko to their feet. Someone passed her a glass of wine, which she thrust in the air. “To the Prince and Princess! To the Phoenix King! To the Fire Nation!” The cacophony of voices rose in a crescendo as the guests followed her lead, saluting the young couple.
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe could feel the Phoenix King’s eyes burning into her back. A chill went down her spine as Zuko joined his hand with hers. She presented her best courtier’s smile, a picture of grace and elegance. Caged sparrowkeets sang the loudest.
The Fire Nationers had a tradition known as the Lighting of the Candles. As the first night drew to a close, the guests filtered out into the main plaza. Each family was handed a yellow candle to be held by either a firebender or the head of the household. Yue watched, unexpectedly mesmerized by the spectacle. Azula had been chosen to hold the candle for the royal family. The chief Fire Sage nearly had to shout in order to be heard. “Before the couple returns to their chambers, we shall celebrate them in the way that the founding lords of our nation venerated their own ancestors. Through the Lighting of the Candles, we are attracting the spirit-gods to shine their favor. May their star forever burn bright.”
Azula’s blue flame lit the candle just as fireworks lit up the night sky. The skies above and the ground below were shining with a multitude of light. Tendrils of smoke drifted about. Yue watched the explosions of red and blue and yellow in awe. She felt like a child. She had never seen fireworks, though she had heard others speak of them.
The light show continued even as Yue and Zuko trotted silently back inside the palace, a cluster of servants (spies, Yue knew) on their heels. She had refused the final costume change. They entered Zuko’s room. Yue immediately tore the tiara off of her head, setting it down just as Zuko removed his own headpiece. They stood in an awkward, prolonged silence. The room was unsettlingly quiet, the walls shaking from the force of the fireworks outside. Someone had been savvy enough to set a decanter of wine on the table atop Zuko’s scattered maps.
Pouring herself a full glass, Yue spun on her heel and kicked off her slippers. “So,” she began cheerfully, “which island are we visiting first?”
Zuko did not hear her, lost in his own world with the expression of a child who had lost their mother in the town center, a sort of hopeless bafflement that made his eyes seem bigger than they were. He sat on his bed, thought better of it, and paced the length of the antechamber.
Yue downed the wine and poured another. She could already feel her body warming from within. Spirits let me be strong enough to do this . “I would still like to visit Shuhon Island.” Zuko raised his head at the mention of the isle. Yue sighed. “I’d prefer if we’d just get this over with.”
Zuko blanched. “We don’t-I’ve never,” his voice shook, “Yue, we don’t really have to, we can just lie and say we did. I’ve never-”
“Me neither,” Yue interrupted and banished the memory of Ozai’s fingers in her hair. “But your mother won’t rest until it’s done, and until the evidence is there.” Methodically she peeled her dress over her shoulders and her hips and let it pool on the floor by her feet. She stood before him. Zuko’s face was red, his eyes panicked as if he wanted to flee. It was pitiful, truly. The two of them at the mercy of people who moved them like pawns, shattering whatever hopes and expectations they held for their own lives. The prince was looking everywhere but at her. “Zuko.”
His eyes flickered up to meet hers at last. He rubbed the back of his head and scratched at his neck as if the collar of his vest was too tight. “I don’t know where to start…”
They stared at each other and the bedchamber felt simultaneously too small and too large. She could not find it in herself to force a smile. She took a gulp of wine.
The Phoenix Queen put me in a room with the sweetest, most awkward man in the Fire Nation and expects me to do something with this? Spirits, it would’ve been easier with a stranger. At least a stranger wouldn’t have been petrified as she stood half naked in front of him.
Yue took his callused hand and moved closer to him. He stiffened but did not move away. Yue willed herself to be strong. The wine made it easy. Zuko’s familiarity made it even easier. Her hand slipped to the nape of his neck, drawing her face closer to his. They both closed their eyes. Yue wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss as if at the same time they had decided it was just better to get it over with. Zuko shrugged out of his shirt, both of them stumbling over each other. His hands were more sure as they crept up to hold her face and Yue felt the warmth from his skin against hers. Unlike Azula and Ozai, his heat was never overwhelming. He burned like a hearth, not a wildfire. With the taste of the wine still on her lips, she deepened the kiss. She had never kissed a boy, not like this, but it came naturally. Everything with him in that moment came naturally. They both hesitated undressing, both suddenly aware of the moment. Yue was the first to reach forward, never allowing herself to break eye contact and the prince followed suit.
They spun around the space until they found themselves on Zuko’s bed. Yue tumbled forward, falling along with him. Her hair had come undone and he absently brushed it away. She laughed and he allowed himself to smile as well. She sat atop him, her hands struggling to find purchase on something that wasn’t his chest. His cheeks were flushed and she knew that hers were also. She had never been bare in front of a man before and her stiff upbringing rang like a bell in the back of her head. What scandal! But this was her lawful husband, she remembered. Terrified though he might be, if he truly wished then it was his right to see her any way he saw fit. She was acutely aware of every flaw: the faint scars from enduring Azula’s “training”, the way her collarbones protruded. He studied them all, brilliant eyes unreadable. His face shifted. His thumbs held her hips, keeping her just high enough that there was still some distance between them. “I-I really don’t know where to start.” He allowed his hands to fall away until their skin touched and he grabbed her hand, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles.
Yue hooked her leg around his and rolled until they had switched positions and Zuko hovered above her, supported by his forearms and bent knees. Her cheeks grew impossibly warmer. He truly was handsome, perhaps even more so when he was smiling. She wondered if he thought the same about her. He looked down at her. She stared into his eyes, seeing herself reflected in them as she guided his hand. “You start like this.”
When she awoke the next morning, she found herself molded into the curve of Zuko’s body. He was lying on his back, his arm draped over her. It was well past sunrise. A flush came over her as the memory of the night before entered her mind. Through the hours of the night they had learned together until they had memorized the dips and scars of each other’s bodies, and until Yue suddenly knew what it felt like to come undone. Zuko’s hands had never left hers, their fingers intertwined throughout. His mother had forced them into the circumstance…but Yue found it more than bearable.
Feeling her stir, Zuko’s eyes opened. He looked down at her and his cheeks turned the shade of a ripe plum. He moved away from her as if she had burned him, his legs entangled in the linen sheet that covered them both. “Good morning,” his voice was overly chipper.
A laugh bubbled up her throat. Yue sat up, pulling her hair over her shoulder. Zuko’s gaze lingered on her face and then flickered down before immediately darting back up. “You never decided on an island to start with,” Yue said. “I’d prefer Shuhon. Or shall we venture further out and make our way back to the caldera?”
Zuko relaxed back into the pillows, visibly relieved that Yue had moved the conversation to something other than the events that had transpired the night before. “Well, I was recently reading about an island with underwater ruins after the city was sunk by a tsunami. It’s called the Isle of Szeto. He was a Fire Nation Avatar, well before the Fire Nation was an actual conglomerate. He was so powerful that he could control four volcanoes at once.”
Perhaps Katara would one day be able to do the same, Yue thought. She would rouse the volcanoes from their slumber and scorch them all away.
“Anyway, it's the furthest island away from the capital and is completely uninhabitable. According to the legends, Szeto incurred the wrath of the spirit-gods and they destroyed the island and everything on it.” Zuko went on in his rasping voice, “Szeto tried to stop them, but the entire spirit realm was against him.”
Yue hummed. She hesitated, debating if she should ask, or if Zuko would even know. “What do you know about the Seats of the Demiurge?”
The Crown Prince shook his head. “Not much,” he answered earnestly. “Beyond the fact that they are the most spiritually abundant places on earth. You’ve never heard of it?”
Regretfully Yue sighed. There was much that she had not been taught simply because of her gender. The political and religious intricacies had been fed to her sparingly. It was Kuruk who would learn much and more, despite being ten years younger. She knew of the spirits (how could she not, when one had saved her life?) and of the history of her nation, but the significance of the role of the chieftain in religious ceremony was lost upon her. “If Katara had been born in the North, she might have never known that she was the Avatar at all,” Yue said by way of response.
“Why do you ask?”
Yue froze. Because your father intends to use it somehow during an eclipse. Because your father intends to kill me. Because your father intends to kill the Avatar if she hinders him? None of those responses would serve her. She trusted Zuko as much as she could, but who was to say that he wouldn’t make a mistake and tell Azula? Or his mother? Or worse, Ozai? He was honorable and he was kind, but he loved his family and like all sons, he hungered for his father’s approval. “I read about it briefly, and I was just wondering if you had any other books about it. No matter.”
There was a sharp knock on the door. Zuko scrambled to dress himself, tossing one of his tunics at Yue to make herself decent. He yelled for the intruder to enter once Yue had pulled the tunic over her head. Two servants stepped inside. “Good morning to you both, my lord and lady.” The older woman greeted them, her eyes cutting over to the bed, analyzing the sheets that they had tossed onto the floor. She smirked. One of Ursa’s spies, then. “I’m afraid you’ve missed the family breakfast, but the Phoenix Queen ordered us not to disturb you. We must hurry, Lord Tzumoro has arranged for the procession to begin at noon. Princess Yue, if you’d follow me?”
She extracted herself from the bed, pulling the hem of the tunic down over her thighs. She shuffled as the maid led her back to her own chambers. Tui was waiting for her at the door, whining anxiously. Yue knelt to run her hands over the canine’s ears, giggling as Tui licked her face and wove in between her legs. “I’ve missed you, girl.” It had been nearly two days since she had spent any time with her polar dog. She straightened as the maid went to run the bath. “I’m taking her with me. To the procession. She is coming with me.”
The older woman startled. Yue leveled her with an icy stare and Tui reflected her with a curled upper lip. “As you wish, Princess,” she tripped over her response. She continued at her task.
Lord Tzumoro was personally waiting for her after she was dressed. He wore a vest upon which the pythonocanda was on one breast pocket and the Phoenix was on the other. “Princess Yue,” he acknowledged her. “You look radiant.” He offered her his arm and she rested her hand upon it as he escorted her down the hall with Tui at her heels. “The final part of the wedding ceremony is the procession of unity through the city. You will ride upon a uni-horse beside Prince Zuko. The Phoenix King and Queen will be in front, and Azula will be five paces behind. Guards will be mounted on armored komodo rhinos.”
Azula would be furious.
He led her to the plaza where the rest of the family had just arrived. Ozai wore his splendid gold and orange armor while Ursa matched him in an equally vibrant dress. They mounted pitch black uni-horses whose horns were nearly pearlescent. A stable hand held the reins of a beautiful perlino and white mare whose horn was a diaphanous white. With the other hand he clutched a blue dun with an identical horn. The last was reserved for Azula, a sooty colored and ornery beast that bucked and heaved against his harness. A number of guardsmen sat atop komodo rhinos.
Zuko and Azula wore matching breastplates, though the princess was scowling furiously at being placed behind all the others. She jerked the reins away from the stable hand and swung up into the saddle of the stallion, wringing his head one way and then the other until he settled. She shot a withering look at Yue as Zuko assisted her onto the mare, sitting side saddle like the queen. Azula, on the other hand, rode like a man. Tzumoro waited until they were ready before raising his hand, gesturing for the party to move forward.
Once they were out of the palace gates, Azula spurred her uni-horse until he was at the flank of Yue’s mare. Tui dodged to avoid his hooves. “Don’t think that just because you let my brother fumble between your legs that you are somehow elevated above me. You are still a prisoner, just now sharing my brother’s bed. Mother has arranged for your things to be moved in with Zuko’s.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t overstep.” She smiled coyly. “When are you going to tell her, Zuzu?”
“Azula, stop .” Zuko snapped.
The younger princess chuckled.
Yue barely registered their exchange. She would be sharing a space with Zuko? Their marriage was an act, a mummery for Ursa’s petty amusement. There was no need to uproot her safe space. They had consummated the union, what more could she want?
Commoners lined the streets of the capital city, throwing flower petals and handfuls of rice as they passed through. Yue waved at the children as she went, reminded of her days when she was the beloved princess of the Northern Water Tribe. They seemed genuinely happy to see her, or perhaps just grateful for a day without work. Yue found herself smiling. The sea air rolled up to greet them as they reached the boulevard between the docks and the rest of the city. It smelled of fish and salt, of smoke and sweat. The sun beamed on her cheeks as she took in the sight of the sun reflecting on the ships. She could almost imagine that she was back in the South Pole, the last place where she had truly been safe.
Azula and Zuko were called away by their father and Lord Tzumoro when they returned, leaving the Koi Princess and the Phoenix Queen. Ursa smiled. “I apologize for the overstep of ordering your move into Zuko’s quarters. It would just behoove all of us if the public saw us as a loving, united family. I can count on one hand the number of times that I did not sleep next to Ozai.” Her tone was neutral, once again the genteel woman that Yue had known before. She glanced down at Tui. “It’s too late to kennel train your pet, I suppose. I’m sure my son will allow it. He’s always been a sweet boy. He will make a fine husband.”
Yue offered no response. She could not argue with her description of Zuko. Of all the men Ursa could have chosen, she had given her the one man that Yue knew would not hurt her in any fashion. The Phoenix Queen could have given her to an old man or an abuser, though that would have risked them losing a valuable pawn. Zuko had been the safest option, and Yue was eternally grateful.
——-
It was to be her last week in her luxury cell. The palace workers had worked tirelessly to restructure Zuko’s living quarters to accommodate a woman. Azula had told her that years before the heir’s quarters had been specifically designed to host the incumbent's spouse and children. The other, smaller, rooms had fallen into disuse in the last twenty years.
Yue had to admit that she had grown attached to her little niche within the Fire Nation palace. Though she had no true privacy (or autonomy, for that matter), her view of the twilight gardens had comforted her during many sleepless nights. The space was effectively bare by the evening of the seventh day, leaving only her toiletries, the heaviest furniture, and the bed. It had been stripped down to only a single muslin sheet and the pillows in preparation for the deep cleaning and redecorating that would occur. Her clothes, books, and various trinkets that she had acquired had been transferred to Zuko’s quarters.
An unexpected sadness washed over her.
It was a prison cell, but like a caged sparrowkeet, Yue had forgotten what fresh air and freedom felt like. The walls were familiar. The garden was a constant, quiet friend. Tui had accompanied her on numerous midnight strolls. They had built an alcove for her pet in the hall, carving out a den-like space that she had taken readily to. Yue had clung to the space for a bit more until it was barebones and emotionless.
Zuko and Azula were the only ones dining with her that evening. Ursa cited an engagement and Ozai owed no one an explanation for his absence. It was easier with the three of them. Azula was mild, preoccupied with her assignment of selecting and training an elite group of female firebenders to form a sort of guard. She was sparse with the details, but Yue could see the gleam of pride in her eyes as the project unfolded.
The Crown Prince’s project was a lengthy one. He had been working on it with the Ministry of Development for well over a year. He was even more tight-lipped than Azula when Yue asked him about it. The siblings were drawn as taut as arrows and Yue found herself in the middle of them.
“If I were in charge of the assignment, then I would’ve completed it by now.” Azula said over their dinner plates, picking at her food with needle sharp chopsticks. “And I wouldn’t have let Mother strong arm me in her little puppet show marriage.”
Zuko rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re in charge of playing with a bunch of girls.”
Azula scoffed. “A bunch of girls, Zuko? Is that really the best you can do? The women I’ve chosen for the Acolytes of Ichiko could wipe the floor with you. If she tried, Yue and her dog could best you.” She glanced at Yue, who quickly ducked her face into her bowl. “Anyway, did you know that Mother tried to set me up for lunch with two blundering idiots? Some buck-toothed son of a second rate general and then the pasty one from our trip to Ember Island.” The Fire Nation princess sniffled. “I would have preferred if it was Chan.”
“He’s the only one that would put up with you,” Zuko deadpanned. “The other poor fellows dodged a sword.”
His sister’s glare could cut steel. “If it weren’t technically a mortal sin to kill you, I would have considered it by now. Even though that didn’t stop Father.”
“That was different,” Zuko responded and the siblings seemed to reach a consensus.
Zuko turned to her. “Are you going to be sleeping in my room tonight?” Azula snickered and the prince whirled on his sister with a scowl to rival his father’s. “I didn’t mean it like that, for spirits sake! I meant that there’s not much in your rooms anymore, you’d might as well just cut it a day short and save yourself time.”
Yue considered it. “No,” she rejoined, “I think I’d just rather enjoy the view of the twilight gardens one last time. The Sunrise garden is beautiful, but this one holds a special place in my heart.” She pushed away from the table. One of them would devise a way to find themselves close to her rooms soon enough. Azula was more subtle, albeit just barely. Yue had yet to decide if she was genuinely checking on her well-being or making sure Yue hadn’t decided to hang herself with a sheet.
Nightfall found her alone. Tui was settled in her new makeshift den. The full moon bathed her chambers in its celestial lunar glow, silver beacons of light emanating from the windows. Yue faced the night, gazing up at the heavenly body that had given her life all those years ago. Could Tui and La even hear her prayers from here? She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair, working out the tangles that had formed from wearing it so tautly. Lord Tzumoro, as a formal wedding gift to the bride, had commissioned a unique fire point crown of her own that required her to upsweep her white locks. Yue tried to imagine herself as a Fire Nation princess, complete with topknot and headpiece and found that she could not.
A sharp, brisk knock on the door alerted her to another presence. Azula never knocked. Zuko would, but she knew he would be pouring over his reports and notes in his study. The servants were never so assertive. Perhaps Ursa. They had called a sort of armistice during the nuptial celebrations. The Phoenix Queen was so thoroughly devoted to crafting an image of perfection that Yue had hardly seen her since the procession.
Yue opened the door.
The Phoenix King stood before her, large and imposing in the darkness of the corridor. Yue stumbled backwards as he brushed her aside, walking into her rooms with his hands clasped behind his back. She could see his eyes dancing about with scrutiny, taking note of every chink and flaw. Yue wrung her hands.
“Can I be of assistance in any way, Your Highness? Please forgive me, I didn’t expect you to come.” She squeaked, wishing she had taken Zuko up on his offer. “You must forgive the imperfections and the disarray, as you know I am in the process of-”
He raised his powerful hand to silence her, the same hand that he used to rip her hair from its roots after he had caught her eavesdropping. His shoulders were squared. Ozai meandered around the space almost lazily, stopping to run his fingers along the table and the wall. “You did not expect me because I did not tell you. Intelligent though you might be, it can be ascertained that you are no psychic.” Yue stiffened. He was joking in that dry manner of his. He circled her like a leopon although he had yet to look at her. “Tomorrow you will join my son.”
Yue knew the man well enough that she recognized an inquiry, not a statement. “Yes, my lord.”
Ozai did not respond. The full moon illumined him, highlighting the sheer strength apparent under his skin. He moved towards her and Yue instinctively took a step back as the Phoenix King took a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger. She trembled as he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. Yue half expected him to strike her. His eyes met hers.
Just as quickly, the Phoenix King moved away. “Do you still think I need you?”
She shook her head and then realized he was looking elsewhere. “No,” she fought to keep her voice steady. “I am nothing to you. Just a tool for you to use. When I’ve exhausted my purpose, you’ll get rid of me.”
Ozai nodded. Once more he approached her, standing behind her. “You have been touched by the moon spirit,” he said. “As it so happens, that means you have a bit of divinity within you.” She could feel the heat irradiating from him. “When the eclipse comes, your blood will assist in allowing me to draw power from the Seat of the Demiurge. A dragon would have been stronger, but you are more convenient.” His hands had snaked around her and traveled to the knot in the sash of her robe, tugging at it with deft fingers.
Yue tensed before grabbing his hand with her own, spinning out of reach. “No, Your Grace, please. Zuko, your son, is my husband.” She fumbled with tying the two halves back together. She realized her breathing had become labored, her heart suddenly in her throat.
A smirk of cruel amusement crossed the man’s lips. His eyes burned into her. “Everything in the Fire Nation is under my dominion. Soon everything in the world will belong to me. You are no different.” He advanced on her with serpentine speed. Before she could react, Ozai had grabbed her forearms and pulled her closer. He had yet to look away, his eyes twinkling with callous, bestial pleasure at her discomfiture. With one hand he pulled the robe away and set it afire with his bending and then her tunic. Yue fought to cover herself, batting feebly at his chest. He released her like a cat playing with its prey and she tumbled away from him.
“It’s not right, Your Highness.” Yue tried to plead to the part of the man that had some concept of lawfulness, of decency. That part did not exist.
At that the Phoenix King paused and quirked a brow. “In whose eyes?” He blocked her path of escape, the bulk of his formidable frame pressing her backwards until Yue felt the back of her knees against the edge of the sheetless bed. She twisted to skirt around him, only for the man to toss her onto the surface with his heated hand on her throat.
“Not right in the eyes of the gods,” she croaked and pried his fingers away. His hands captured her wrists above her head. Yue began to cry. “ Please , please don’t do this.”
Ozai’s weight had pushed her down, strangling her when she locked her knees together. He laughed gratingly, merciless. “Why should the opinions of the gods matter to me when I intend to become one?” His palm covered her lips. Yue gagged at the taste of the salt of his skin. She weeped silently, his fingers leaving bruises on the inside and outside of her thighs, and she tried to imagine that she was becoming the moon.
Yue crawled to the bathroom when he left her. She was too sore to stand. Strength waning, the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe vomited on the floor and curled into a ball. After what felt like hours she managed to pick herself up from the tile and with twitching fingers she covered her body with her tattered bindings. She cleaned up her vomit with the muslin sheet. Yue hobbled forward.
One of the maids, not much older than her, was waiting for her when she emerged from the bathroom. Yue had not heard her enter. With a stern lip and a knowing look, the young woman threw a new night gown over Yue’s shoulders. Yue flinched when she rested a hand against her cheek. “I’m sorry,” the maid said in half a whisper, “I will fetch you some tea.”
Chapter 46: What Does Not Die
Chapter Text
Katara
For the first week after Jun’s death, Katara dreamt of her just as fervently as she dreamt of her father. Her sleep had been empty after that, void of dreams. At the Eastern Air Temple she existed in a haze. Ubon and Yamjang tended to her as if she was a child. Entering the Avatar state voluntarily for the first time had awakened something in her that had been dormant, and Katara felt as though she was seeing the world for the first time.
The stone halls were quiet. The children were still gone from the temple, stashed away in some fortified Air Nomad safe haven that made Katara realize that not all airbenders were pacifists. It existed in them to be cold, to be pitiless just as it existed in her. The Fire Nation had subjugated the nation economically, had diminished their culture and pillaged their homes as they raped their bodies and resources. Ubon had quietly told her of the Fire Nation lieutenant in her youth, when she was barely older than Katara. He had mysteriously suffocated and Ubon hummed contentedly when she told that part of the tale. They had yet to hear any communication from the other Air Temples. The Southern Air Temple was the closest, but still leagues away. Who was to say that the other temples weren’t being plundered? Had the firebenders really retreated back to their outpost? The world certainly knew she was the Avatar by now.
The Phoenix King knew she was the Avatar by now.
Yue was at the mercy of the wrathful man, and who was to say that he wasn’t taking his frustration with his current circumstances out on her? His nephew was dead, yes, but he still had to face her. And though she had yet to master all four elements, she was the Avatar. The great balancer. The spirit-gods had given her an ultimatum. Ozai had done too much.
And Katara no longer had it in her to be peaceful.
Not after he had killed her father. Not after he killed Jun. He had taken too much from her and the only recompense would be his life.
Ubon meditated beside her, though Katara could feel that one of her eyes was open and watching her. The older woman was subtle, with a maternal discretion that could only come from motherhood and age. Katara wasn’t sure if Ubon had ever had any daughters of her own. She treated all the young girls as if they had come from her womb. “Meditation won’t bring you peace if you are thinking about murder,” the woman commented sardonically. “It’s the very antithesis of meditation.”
Katara opened her eyes. “It’s not murder,” she replied. “It’s vengeance.”
The nun smirked. “Vengeance is still murder, little one. Justifiable, though many of my people would say otherwise.” She pushed herself to her feet and faced the sunrise. “Yamjang and I have been considering and discussing the next actions of the temple. The children will remain in the village.” The petite woman moved away from the arch and Katara followed. “Go to the fountain and seek guidance for your next steps. Tsephel and her bison Dache have already volunteered to accompany you on the next steps of your journey.”
Tsephel was the closest thing Katara had as a friend the same age at the Air Temple. She was seventeen, a newly anointed master of airbending, and had a wit that reminded Katara of her brother. Katara smiled. “It would be an honor to have her at my side.”
Ubon’s eyes twinkled. “She thinks the same of you.”
Yamjang was waiting for her when she entered the chamber with the fountain and the colossus, which had been opened earlier by Ubon. Katara wondered if she had been waiting for her. Of course she had. Yamjang and Ubon seemed to always exist on the same plane of thought. She offered her smiles more readily than Ubon, however, and she was a gentler teacher. Yamjang bowed to Katara, her hands pressed together in front of her. Though taller than Ubon, she was dwarfed by the statue. They all were. Whoever had carved the colossal figure was either a god themselves or had been given the talent of one. “Your journey awaits you,” the nun said and stepped aside.
Katara moved to the still pool, staring into its depths. Her reflection stared back at her. The Avatar closed her eyes and opened her third one and she drank. She fell away from her body and began to fly. Once more she was pulled into the dark void. The galaxy was plunged into an impregnable blackness. The translucent giant of her likeness appeared and Katara stepped into its hand. Show me the way she willed her mind and she found herself being moved in the other direction. The world stretched out before her. The marshy dark green of Banka-Kadi, its thatched roofs and snaking rivers giving way to dense damp forests. It seemed vast and unending. The city of Mo-Pet was one to rival those in the Southern Water Tribe, a center of industry and innovation for the region. The vision spanned on. There, just beyond the urban center, was a military outpost that flew Fire Nation banners, black and red against turquoise and dark green. It felt achingly out of the place.
She looked on.
A massive tree, no, beyond massive. It was gargantuan, so immense that words could not truly describe its breadth and height. The tawny trunk was so stout that it could house an entire village within, each branch like the arms of giants. The canopy of trees cast the ground underneath into a haze of perpetual shadow.
Her mind’s eye spun away from the swamp, racing across wide swathes of land until it came to a peninsula. There were no distinguishing details beyond the circular city within raised walls.
She opened her eyes.
Yamjang knelt beside her, patient as always. Katara sat flat on the ground and studied her hands, mapping the lines of her palms. “I have to go back to Banka-Kadi,” she mused aloud, “and then…and then.” The peninsula, wherever it was. She could only hope that the spirit-gods would have enough pity and give her a sign. “I just want to go home.”
The nun’s arms were open as she fell into them. Yamjang’s hands rubbed up and down her spine. “Oh, child,” she murmured into Katara’s thick hair, “you are the Avatar. Wherever you step foot is your home.” They rose together, Yamjang still holding Katara upright as they exited the chamber of the colossus back into the windy halls of the Eastern Air Temple.
Katara walked through the temple, passing cohorts of nuns and teenage girls who had not yet earned their arrows. The acolytes were always assigned to duties of temple maintenance, whether that meant tending to the gardens, washing clothes, or shoveling bison manure. Her knuckles had known more work in her months in the Air Temple than she had ever experienced in her life. One of the girls called her name, breaking away from the group.
Tsephel was tall and built like a whisp, as if she would fly away at any moment. Her skin was a smooth golden brown, always tinged pink as if she had just finished laughing, and her hair fell about her shoulders in dense, coarse dark ringlets that were curlier than Katara’s own. Her father had been an Arakemeti, she once said, or perhaps a tradesman from Banka-Kadi. She had inherited his skin and hair, whoever he was, and little else. Tsephel glided on her feet whenever she walked, so light footed that she danced on air. She smiled as she approached. “Must be nice to meditate while we dig in the weeds. Any new epiphanies?”
Their arms linked together. There were two years between them, just as there were two years separating her from Yue. “It depends. Do you still want to come with me?”
Tsephel snorted, as if it were even a question worth asking. “Are you kidding? I’m basically on the precipice of seeing the world with the Avatar and you think I’d say no?”
Katara grinned. “Well I didn’t think you would say yes so readily. What if we’re going straight to a death trap?”
The airbender shrugged. “Tsk, wouldn’t be the first time.”
Katara sighed in exasperation. She had never truly unpacked after returning to the Air Temple after Jun’s death and their encounter with the firebenders. It would take several days to assemble all of their needed supplies and ready Dache and Lusa. Her poor leopard caribou who had trekked tirelessly over stone and marsh would have to do it once again. She could feel Lusa in her head sometimes, missing Nyla as Katara did Jun. They had never found the shirshu and sometimes Katara hoped that he was dead, so he could be with his beloved ornery mistress in the afterlife. She felt the air stir and from the corner of her eye she saw Tsephel gliding away on a sphere of the spinning breeze. Her own was still scattered and wobbly, but she raced after her all the same, memorizing the niches of the Eastern Air Temple. One more home she would leave behind.
A week and a half of preparations had left Katara itching to leave. The feeling was infectious, even for their mounts. Dache was a flying bison whose creamy white pelt ended in a pale brown flame point on her snout. She had the brown markings of all flying bison, and her six feet were wide and webbed. She groaned impatiently as Tsephel loaded their supplies in her saddle, singing traditional nomadic songs to calm her. Katara stared up at the uncannily sharp eyes of the flying bison, rubbing her hand over Dache’s damp nose. Dache had made the journey to the Western Air Temple twice in her life, where she and Tsephel had been born. Long distances and travel across the continent was not new to her.
According to the maps they had studied, it would be easier to skirt the edge of the peninsula until they crossed deeper into Banka-Kadi. Katara adjusted Lusa’s harness, pulling on the straps of the saddle back to secure it. The logistics of traveling with an animal who could cover more ground flying than walking had proved to be a challenge. They had settled on a solution that left poor Lusa humiliated, but it was the only one that would serve. When they had to move quickly, Lusa’s harness would be hooked to the bottom of the cinch of Dache’s saddle, allowing the leopard caribou to “fly”. Lusa had yowled in indignation when they tested the configuration and she had since then given Katara a nasty side eye.
“We say goodbye again, Avatar.” Ubon stood at the edge of the temple grounds where the descent down the mountain began. Her arms were tucked into her sleeves, countenance decidedly placid. “Go, and become what you have always been meant to be.” She took the few steps over the gravel to stand in front of the young women. Dache and Lusa moved restlessly. Ubon took Tsephel’s face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the tall young woman’s cheeks. Tsephel’s dark arrows were like henna on her golden brown skin. She had earned her mastery under the teachings of the nuns of the East, and had been tattooed by Yamjang and Jima. The process was painful and long, and served as the final test of patience and endurance. Katara was glad she would never have to experience it. “The peace within you will be your greatest power, remember that. There is one thing that does not die.” She hugged both of them and nodded stiffly and Katara was reminded of a different farewell.
They nodded to the nun. Katara swung up onto Lusa’s back. Tsephel climbed onto Dache’s saddle, nestled amongst the supplies, and lifted the reins. “Dache, yip yip!” Dache groaned and flapped her tail, pushing herself into the air. Katara looked up as the flying bison cast the ground directly underneath her in shadow. Tsephel’s head poked over the edge. “Are you coming?”
Katara urged Lusa on with a single tap of her heels on the leopard caribou’s flank and once more they were making the descent from the Air Temple back into Banka-Kadi. Dache glided overhead, as graceful in the sky as her mistress was on the ground. Katara rode in their shadow. Lusa’s endurance had improved greatly, her paws sure and steady. Their pace was confident but slow. Twice Dache circled back to remain with Lusa, as if she had forgotten that four paws moved slower than a powerful sky sailing tail.
Katara reached into the saddle bag and withdrew the sapphire. Once more she would return, though not to Terusan. Mo-Pet was further south and west, where the sky was often murky with rain. By her estimate they would reach the city within a month on foot, a far cry from the months she spent meandering from city to town with Jun with a clear destination but no true time constraint. The bounty hunter had been more concerned with her work, having known that Katara would not slip away into the night. Her eyes stung. She missed the woman’s laconic wit, the way her caustic barbs were accompanied by twinkling eyes of mirth.
A week into their journey, they had reached the outermost interior of Banka-Kadi. The smell of damp earth permeated their nostrils. Dache had taken to lumbering on the ground, the squelch of her paws a constant sound. Lusa picked her away over the marshy terrain, as disgusted as the flying bison. Even though she was born in Banka-Kadi, Hama had resided in the upper, drier half. Katara whisked away the rain, creating a shield around them as they entered the city of Tera-Kadi. It was small, and could barely be considered a city. On either side of the main road were shrines. Katara did not recognize the spirit-gods, who had taken the shape of a seven-tailed raven and a pure white owl.
The city (which was a large town in truth) was like any other. There was a bakery and shops, and what appeared to be an inn not unlike those that Katara had grown accustomed to. The denizens turned to stare at them as they came closer, caught off guard by two Air Nomads with a giant bison and a wary eyed leopard caribou. Katara had yet to shed the oranges and yellows of Air Nomad clothing, perhaps for the best. No one would question two airbenders traveling together. Katara held tight into Lusa’s harness, rubbing circles on her flank.
Tsephel walked in front of Dache. They had seen cities in nearly all eight Earth Kingdoms; the noise and movement of an urban area was not new to either of them. The Air Nomad walked with her long neck thrown high like a swan’s, her stride long. Katara followed, as it seemed she always did. Tsephel, like Jun, walked everywhere as if she knew where she was going. Tendrils of her hair had fallen to the nape of her neck. On her waist was her coin purse and Katara knew that under her robes was a sheathed dagger.
“ I’m a girl, and being a pacifist won’t stop a man with groping hands in the dark.” She had explained.
When Katara had first stepped foot onto the shores of Banka-Kadi, she had been fourteen years old, ripped violently from the peace of her childhood home. Upon returning, she was fifteen, hardened by battle and grief and the knowledge that her hands could command blood. Bloodbending was not a new art. Her ancestors had used it, the Avatar Spirit had instinctively reached for it and wielded its power, which meant that at least one of her predecessors had known bloodbending. What other dark arts had the Avatar learned over the millennia?
Tera-Kadi was unimpressive. The people all had the native look, either waterbenders or earthbenders, though it looked like the ratio was skewed towards waterbenders. A gaggle of hooligan children ran about, their peals of laughter ringing throughout the streets. They stopped in their tracks, pointing at the two beasts and the girls leading them. Tsephel smirked. “I always knew I could have a successful modeling career if I tried.”
“I thought Air Nomads weren’t vain.” Katara followed her to a familiar looking inn, one of the chain of lodgings run by a successful Banka-Kadian family. She and Jun had encountered a number of their inns and hostels. They all had the same warm, oval shaped layout and three floors.
“I’m not vain,” her friend responded as she looped the end of Dache’s tether to the post at the top of the path to the inn. There would be no other place to store her, though Katara knew that Tsephel would let her bison fly free once they were settled. There were tie-out posts near the entrance that Katara hooked Lusa to just as a young boy approached with his hand outstretched to guide the animal to the stables. “But if the spirit-gods give you the talent, you might as well make some use of it.” She turned back to face Katara, her white teeth flashing against her dark lips in an antagonizing smile. Together they strode into the lobby of the only inn in Tera-Kadi where men and women mingled together, wine and ale passing about freely. The innkeeper was a stout man with a personality reminiscent of a dead tree stump. He barely looked at them as he accepted their payment for five nights at the inn, passing them a key.
Katara opened the door to the room on the second floor, pushing it open. It was surprisingly clean, scrubbed and dusted, and smelled of fresh air. She claimed the bed on the other side of the room, tossing her rucksack down. It was their first night sleeping under a roof since their departure, having spent the nights like kittens nestled against each other in the curve of Dache’s snoring bulk. “Are you hungry?”
The Air Nomad nodded. “Let’s hope they have decent vegetarian options, if I have to munch on lettuce and nuts like a monkey-bunny, I’ll flip a table.”
They headed back down the stairs and walked into the dining area where there was a bar on the far left corner of the room. Tables and benches were arranged in rows, and Katara could smell the kitchens at the back of the hall. There were a number of people already seated, sipping on tea and talking quietly amongst themselves. Tsephel selected a two seated booth and sat down, flagging down a waiter who was clearly the innkeeper's son. He trotted over to them with a scrap of paper. He took note of their warm colored clothing and Tsephel’s tattoos and raised a brow. “What would you like?” He held up a finger. “No complex vegetarian dishes.”
Tsephel pursed her lips in admiration. “Well aren’t you a man of culture? I’ll take the best you’ve got, extra spicy. The Arakemeti side of my heritage has a predilection for red chiles. What tea goes best with honey?”
“I have a ginseng and peach ble-” he trailed off as Tsephel eagerly nodded her head. “And for you?” He faced Katara.
“I’ll take the vegetable stew…hold the red chiles for me, please.” She sighed in exasperation at her friend’s deriding snort. “And the same tea.”
The innkeeper’s son nodded and headed back to the kitchens. Katara rested her chin on her hand, minutely aware of the hum of conversation around her. Most of it was mundane, talk of business and children or irritation at the tax increase from the Jade Throne. Katara sank into her seat. She wasn’t sure if she was still wanted by the King of Banka-Kadi, or if he had decided angering the Avatar was not worth the risk of losing his life. The world would treat her differently now, she knew. Half of it would want her head, the other half would try to use her to their advantage. The Avatar had few true friends.
“Did you hear the news?” Two men were conversing at the table adjacent to their own. “About the Water Tribe boy and from the caldera?”
Katara pricked her ears.
“The boy’s got Gaoling on his side,” the other replied with an incredulous shake of his head. “I wonder what the Jade Throne will do. The Fire Nation is breathing hard down the airbenders’ necks after they found the Avatar. There’s a knife aimed right at our throats if the king moves too fast. I’ve heard through the grapevine that there’s another army suited up in the west in Arakem that’s following the Phoenix King’s nephew. An army with dragons.”
The first man let out a breath of amusement and disbelief. “Hearsay if I’ve heard anything like it. The boy is dead. And even if he wasn't, do you really think Arakem would side with a looney?”
“I’ve heard stranger things,” the older gentleman harrumphed. “Like the Phoenix King marrying the water princess off to his son.”
Katara sputtered. “Excuse me, what?!”
Their eyes snapped up at her interjection. Across from her, Tsephel put her head in her hands. The gray beard nodded slowly, agitation at having been eavesdropped upon apparent in his countenance. “Aye, you heard clear as day. My sister works at the outpost and brought the news back. The girl’s a proper Fire Nation princess now, maybe already with a half-blooded whelp in the belly.”
Tsephel bristled. “What’s wrong with being a half-blooded whelp, pray tell?” She sniped.
“Nothing for the vast majority of us. But unlike you and me, we’re not the children of two warring nations.” He spat back at her. “It’s obvious why he did it. If it’s all true, then the tide is starting to shift against him. He’s going to get more and more ruthless. Omashu, Kyoshi, Gaoling. Maybe Arakem. The Air Nomads, if they ever grow a real spine. The Southern Water Tribe. That’s half of the whole world turning coats. Albeit the weaker half, but quiet waters kill all the same.”
The first man shook his head. “Clearly not the weaker half. The Avatar is going to tear him apart if she ever gets to the Fire Nation.” He narrowed his eyes at them. “You bunch are from the Eastern Air Temple. Did you see the Avatar when she sent the firebenders back this way with their tails between their legs?”
Katara felt as though she was underwater. Yue, married to the enemy. Her brother, winning kingdoms. Thankfully the men did not recognize her dressed as an airbender. It helped that there were a number of brown skinned blue eyed citizens milling about. She bit her tongue until it bled, casting a glance at Tsephel. The airbender shook her head. Now is not the time. “We’ve been on a pilgrimage,” she answered and hoped that the men were not familiar with Air Nomadic customs. “I am able to earn my arrows soon.”
Disinterested, the men turned away and fell into their own conversation once more. The innkeeper’s son returned with their food and tea. The girls ate in a ponderous silence.
When they returned to their room and settled for the night, Tsephel sat on the edge of her bed, barefoot and looking very young in the half light of the room. Her hands rested on her knees. Her gray eyes glittered. “Do you think the Princess is okay?” She twiddled her thumbs. “For the entirety of my life, I’ve never been away from my people . The Air Nomads. I’ve always been around people who have the same culture, the same beliefs, the same bending skill . She must feel like a koi fish in a shark pool.” Her voice was small, carrying throughout the space between them.
Katara paused. It was true. Tsephel and all the children like her had never grown up without the loving embrace of an entire gaggle of monks or nuns. They lived their lives in a circle of their own community. Katara had spent the first fourteen years of her life similarly, enveloped in the loving community of IcePoint and the entire Water Tribe. Yue…Yue had found herself in a bed of snakes. “Physically.” She answered shortly and tried not to imagine what horrors her friend was enduring. “That’s all I can say.”
——-
The River of Reflection cut through the heart of the city of Mo-Pet, its crystalline currents reflecting the bridges rising over the river that cut Mo-Pet almost perfectly in half. Terusan was the capital, but the shimmering gemstone, dysfunctional city of Mo-Pet was the center of commerce. Its denizens swirled about like fish in a gyre, swept along with the currents of their daily affairs. They landed on the western half of the city, which seemed to be the lesser developed half of the city. The buildings were not quite dilapidated, the people not quite starving, but there was a quiet sense of desperation that suggested those living on this side of the River of Reflection saw skeletons when they looked upon its depths.
From above they had spotted another city suspended in the treetops, a chain of tree houses and bridges and watchtowers that housed a secret society of orphans, runaways, and juvenile vagabonds. When they flew over, Katara squinted her eyes in hopes of seeing fleeting figures amongst the leaves. Had Smellerbee and the others made it safely from Terusan? Were they even in Banka-Kadi? Were they even alive?
The people of Tera-Kadi had stared openly at them. Mo-Pet, however, was notably more cultured. Even the poorer half, where the streets were unswept and a stench of resignation hung heavy in the air. As they drew closer, it was apparent as to why.
The Fire Nation outpost loomed not far in the distance as they flew into Mo-Pet, a black and red shadow over an otherwise blue and green city. Katara felt a deep sense of foreboding at the sight of it, even though it was perhaps an hour or two from Mo-Pet. A number of the less fortunate residents had taken up work for the outpost, whether through metalworking or providing food or textile services.
Dache hovered just low enough for Katara to leap from the saddle and unhitch Lusa from the suspension cables that held her aloft. The leopard caribou dropped to the ground, shaking her fur in indignation. Katara patted her loyal steed on the back. “Sorry, girl, it’s faster.” She kissed Lusa’s snout. She turned to look back up at Tsephel. They were both dampened from the rain that had just ceased to fall, a constant companion since leaving Tera-Kadi. Katara bent the water from her clothes and hair, doing the same for Tsephel as her friend slid from the flying bison’s back. “We find a place here and plan our next move.”
Tsephel sucked her teeth. “You don’t sound very confident. I would think someone who’s supposed to save the world would have some sort of game plan.”
“Sokka was always the one who planned everything,” Katara said. “I just followed along with my magic water.”
“Yeah, well, now you have magic rocks, and fire, and some magic air to go along with it.” Tsephel deadpanned. She rubbed Dache’s nose. “Go find a safe place, fur ball, and come back when you hear my whistle.” She slapped the bison’s rump and Dache affectionately butted her head against her master’s side before taking off back into the sky. Tsephel shouldered her rucksack. “I doubt you’re going to find high quality hostels on this side of town.”
Katara gripped Lusa’s bridle. The downtrodden residents of Mo-Pet’s western side paid them little mind. Despite the litter on the streets, the River of Reflection was clear and clean. It was sacred to all of Banka-Kadi. Jun had once explained that it was a gift from the patron spirit-god of the kingdom. Not all of the spirits wanted to eradicate humanity. Some of them loved and were loved by mortals. In her meditations she had seen Tui and La. They were amongst those who opposed the death of mankind, as was Agni the Fire Nation patron spirit. The supreme spirit-gods were the most adamant on wiping the earth clean. In her dreams she had tried to reason with them and they had given her the same ultimatum time and time again. Fix it , they said, or we will.
There was a butcher shop on the main strip that made Lusa whine and pull against Katara’s grip. Her claws scrabbled on the ground. She dragged her master across the street; Katara’s pathetic human hands were no match for the powerful haunches of her mount. Tsephel wrapped her arms around Katara’s waist, but her light frame did nothing to stop them. Lusa stopped out front, whining at the scent of cured meats from inside. A few patrons had shrank away at the sight of the slavering beast. Katara gritted her teeth in embarrassment.
“See, this wouldn’t happen if you had a flying bison.” Tsephel said and Katara shot her a withering look. Tsephel threw up her hands. “I’m just saying.”
“Well say less,” Katara retorted and they continued on.
Mo-Pet was not unlike the cities of Katara’s South Pole. It was most similar to Wolf’s Cove, the second largest city in the Southern Water Tribe and the economic center of the surrounding region. A fair number of esteemed warriors made Wolf’s Cove their home, and whenever Katara visited she had always been in awe of the banners hanging in the sky. The Polar Bear Dog was the largest, though there was the clan of the Leopard-wolf and the Icedragonfly. Kunip, one of Sokka’s bloodsworn warriors, hailed from the regional warden clan in Wolf’s Cove. She missed her brother’s friends just as much as she missed Sokka. Even insufferable Touqa, who had tugged on her braids and had been the only one who had never been afraid to swing his spear full force when training. (She had a puppy crush on him when she was ten, and he had teased her relentlessly about it. Nevertheless, she had asked him to give her the famous first kiss when she was still thirteen and he had given in before promptly washing his mouth and pretending it never happened.)
They acquired a room in the least shady hostel and to their surprise there was a kitchenette that was equipped with a small stovetop with a single burner. Once Lusa was fed and watered and turned out in the yard of the hostel, they ventured back out into the bustling streets of Mo-Pet.
There was a market that was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes away. It sold an assortment of fruits, vegetables, bagged rice, spices, and nuts. Tsephel loaded their shopping bag with ingredients to make her own interpretation of what she thought Arakemeti food would taste like and the familiar Air Nomadic cuisine. Katara longed for the meals of her homeland. The stewed seal and pickled onions, and the doughy palm sized discs covered in sugar and lemon zest.
“Y’know, if I had a dragon like the Phoenix King’s nephew, I would’ve just bypassed the whole army part. He basically has a pet weapon of mass destruction. If he really wanted to, he could just fly and land on his uncle’s palace. Realistically, who would stop him?” Tsephel mused. “I’d just pack my bags and let him have the place.”
“The Phoenix King was reckless enough to kill my father,” Katara said and for the first time she could say the words without her breath hitching, “I doubt he would run away from a dragon. Narcissists don’t fear danger like we do.” What would happen if the lost prince beat her to the caldera?
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle. It came from one of the side streets, followed by the shrill cries of alarm from a woman. Katara snapped her head around at Tsephel, who had already dropped the bags and was running in the direction of the commotion. Katara took off after her, popping the lid of her canteen. The two young women skidded around the corner, taking in the scene before them.
A young man in Fire Nation armor was on the ground. The young man was struggling, his arms covering his head and face in an effort to shield himself from the kicks and punches that were being delivered to his frame. His assailants were two other youths, their backs turned. A young woman cowered a few feet away, trembling like a leaf in autumn. “He tried to rob me!” She cried out. “He tried to rob me!”
“Leave it to your kind to try and rob an innocent woman,” snarled one of the assailants. “You bunch are just like your king.”
“You shoulda just got outta here when you had a chance!” The second youth ground out. He drew his foot back to kick the firebender once again.
“Stop!” Katara shouted. “He’s already down.”
“What does it matter? He didn’t think about that when he was battering this lady?” The first boy drawled, turning on his heel to face them.
Katara froze. She had heard that voice in her dreams. She had seen that face, those eyes, and shoulders. The narrow waist.
Jet.
He recognized her at the same time, his eyes widening. “Katara?” He said her name as a question, though she knew that he knew it to be true. The others seemed to fall away. He looked smaller without his hooked swords, and he was even taller than she remembered.
The firebender behind them had climbed to his feet. Jet’s accomplice, who Katara now recognized as Quicktwitch, pushed him back to the ground with his boot. The woman darted away. Tsephel watched curiously. The soldier was writhing in an attempt to free himself. “That’s the Avatar!” He gasped out and Quicktwitch stepped on his fingers.
Katara was numb. The last time she had seen him was in Terusan, all that time ago when her world had just fallen apart. She threw herself at him, ignoring the baffled looks of those around them, and buried her face into his chest. Jet held her at arm's length, studying her. She could see his eyes tracing her face and her neck, the way her body had sharpened in some places and softened in others. “Why are you in Mo-Pet?” He asked at last.
Tsephel pointed at the trapped firebender. “Because of that one and his crew,” she answered on Katara’s behalf. “Your buddy can’t step on his wrists forever, how are you going to make sure he doesn’t talk? They already tried to storm the Air Temples once. If he blabs it out, they’ll come here.”
Jet looked away from Katara. “You’re right. Quicktwitch.” He jerked his head and the young archer hauled the soldier to his feet. Jet pulled on Katara’s arm, beckoning for the girls to follow him. He nodded to Tsephel. “I’m Jet, one of Katara’s…friends.”
“I gathered that much,” the brown skinned airbender replied laconically. “You’re a Pre-Avatar Katara friend, I’m a Post-Avatar Katara friend. I’ve never seen a real vigilante before.”
The Air Nomad held Jet’s stare. Katara looked between the two, sizing each other up. Tsephel was the same height as Jet. “Well I’m honored to be the first,” Jet said back. “We should talk.” He whistled. “I knew you were special when I first met you, but I never would’ve guessed you were the Avatar. I need to hear everything.”
Katara nodded and they quietly moved back towards their lodgings, retrieving their groceries as they went. Jet followed them silently to their room, locking the door behind them. Katara clasped her hands behind her back as Jet sat heavily at the table with an expectant frown. She sighed. “I guess I should start with Terusan…” Katara closed her eyes as she sat on her bed. It seemed so long ago. She felt as though it had happened to some other Katara. “After I- after I caused the palace to come down, Jun- Jun is the bounty hunter who was petitioning before us. She was my friend.” She swallowed. “Jun paralyzed me and managed to get me away from the Jade Throne. She was the one who discovered I was really the Avatar. We traveled around Banka-Kadi and outer Omashu for a while, completing jobs and making our way to the Eastern Air Temple. I stayed there for a while, after she left me, learning how to be the Avatar.”
Tsephel, sensing her hesitancy, nodded for her to go on.
“The firebenders from the outpost were going to raid the temples to find me. Jun helped me fight them off. They…” Katara clenched her fists. “They killed her.”
Jet inhaled sharply. “So that’s why they came running through Mo-Pet in terror. There’s been whispers of them launching another raid, this time with their tanks and war mounts. Katara…you’re the Avatar. If the rumors are true-”
“Then we have to stop them.” The three of them spoke at the same time. Her vision had shown her the Fire Nation military base. Katara looked down at her hands and Jet moved to embrace her. Truly embrace her in a way that Katara had not experienced in a long time. His hair was longer, shaggier, and his body firmer. She could hear Tsephel slipping out of the room. “This whole time, I worried about you just as much as I worried about my brother. The sapphire enhydro- I never lost it! It’s in my bag and Jet…Jet-” The words would not come. Katara began to cry.
He held her, wiping her tears with his rough thumb. “I’m here,” he whispered as Katara folded herself into his lap. “I’m here.”
He remained with her, with them both, as once more they took to the sky a week later. His rucksack and dual hooked swords were tucked into the saddle beside Tsephel’s staff and the rest of their supplies. He had explained that he and the rest of the group had slipped into anonymity in Mo-Pet, acting as guardians in the night. It had been safer to temporarily disband. Smellerbee and Longshot had taken the Duke with them while Quicktwitch and a couple others had remained in the city with Jet. His days of thievery and smuggling, he swore, were long gone.
It was raining as they came upon the Fire Nation outpost. It was a looming dark colored complex of steel and wood, the audacious red Fire Nation banner flapping in the damp wind. Metal gates and barbed wire wrapped around the perimeter. Mud squelched under Dache’s and Lusa’s paws. Tsephel ordered her bison to stay close, but out of sight in the forests surrounding the military base. Lusa lingered with the flying bison, uncharacteristically cantankerous, as if the very idea of being close to the Fire Nation soldiers was upsetting. Her voice rumbled low in her throat until Katara rubbed her head and kissed her nose.
They dressed in all black, trading their Air Nomad robes for close fitted pants and shirts with cowls to pull over their heads. Tsephel had braided her hair into a chignon at the back of her head. Katara’s was the same, tied in place by a ribbon. The airbender had her staff strapped to her back. Jet turned to them both. “Here’s the plan,” he began, “we’re going to slip in through the north quadrant. A few weeks ago, we managed to scope the place out. They patrol the perimeter and outer areas twice daily. The main building is barricaded. We’re going to take out the commander and then bring the building down.”
Tsephel raised her finger. “And remind me again how you expect to achieve that?”
Jet smirked. “We have a weapon of mass destruction that can bend four elements.” He looked at Katara. “Do you think you can do it?”
The princess jolted. “Wait, what?! You think I can destroy an entire building?”
“You don’t know until you try,” Tsephel offered and pulled her cowl over her head. “I’ll dispatch the patrol. Once I clear an opening, you guys will dive in. Dache’s going to be on standby.” She swung her staff in front of her. “Be ready.” Tsephel bounced on her feet and then through the pellets of rain, she was gone.
Katara lingered. “I can’t do it,” she wrung her hands and the raindrops followed her fingers. “I can’t do it.” Kyoshi could do it. Yangchen would do it. They were in her mind, whispering their words of encouragement. She was them and they were her. As long as the Avatar was alive, it was her duty to defend the realm. Katara exhaled. Jet knelt beside her, staring intensely at the barbed wire fencing. He was reaching for one of his blades.
An alarm blared just as a rush of air split the gates open and caused the wires to fly about. Men began to shout.
“Let’s go!” Jet dove into the fray. The firebenders were panicked, disjointed, caught off guard by the quickfooted airbender carving her way through the outpost. Katara could hear her dancing along, the air moving at her command as she threw soldiers aside. Jet cut through the others, his hooked swords wrapping around wrists and ankles.
Katara called the rain to her, forming whips that struck at the armored soldiers. She could hear them screaming over the alarm, finally catching sight of the three intruders. One of them lunged at her, punching out a blast of fire. She swept her arms up and the water slammed into the firebender. Katara ran along the paved dirt path between the gate and the buildings of the military compound. She dodged the fire coming at her, sliding on one knee under the grasping hands of a yellow eyed man.
Jet followed suit, covering her rear as Katara powered through the opening that Tsephel had cut. She could see her friend just ahead, ducking and rolling, the air following her hands and feet. It was glorious to see her. Tsephel fell back as they neared the main building and Jet took the lead, slashing at the guards at the entrance. “Tsephel, cover the rear. Katara, follow me.”
The halls of the administrative building were red steel. Katara’s boots clanked over the floor. The corridors on the first floor were empty as most of the Fire Nationers had spilled outside at the disturbance. Jet speared through a lone bender, dislodging his blade with an expert kick. Katara winced but did not allow herself to linger. The building was built as a rectangle, coming together at a single stairwell. From that stairwell came a flash of fire, so bright that it shimmered golden orange. It blinded the young Avatar, causing her to stumble backwards.
Tsephel screamed and the scent of charred fabric and hair invaded Katara’s nostrils. Her friend went down, beating furiously at the small sparks that had caught her cowl on fire. Katara cried out, racing towards the airbender. She drew water from her canteen and slung shards of ice at their assailant. Her aim rang true and the man was pinned to the wall behind him by his wrists. Katara knelt and reached for Tsephel. The Air Nomad groaned in pain, the skin of her shoulders blistered from where the fire had burned through the fabric. Painful, but not nearly life threatening. The waterbender hauled her companion to her feet. The older girl did not hesitate, launching herself back at the stairs. She was snarling, pulling her staff to the front of her body.
The firebender had broken free. His helm had fallen away, revealing a face not much older than Katara’s own. His eyes were the typical yellow and his hair raven black, loosened from his topknot. He threw himself into a bending form, punching out a barrage of bright flame and waves of fire that left Katara ducking for cover. His forms were tight and refined, a clear master of his element. If they were not fighting for their lives, Katara would have found the sight mesmerizing. One soldier, holding his own against two master benders and an equally powerful swordsman.
Jet hugged the wall, searching for an opening. Katara could see the sweat on his brow.
“That was pretty slick of you three, and impressive! I’ve never seen a bunch of girls move so fast.” He dodged Jet’s blade, slapping it away and retreating a few steps. Tsephel shouted in frustration. “Where’s your flying moose?” The firebender taunted. “Too big and slow?”
Tsephel swung her staff with incredible force within the tight space, her bending causing the air to slam into the firebender and throw him into the wall and then the balustrade. He groaned as his abdomen collided with the metal railing. “It’s a flying bison , you fire breathing freak, not a moose!” She darted up the stairs, jerking his head up by his hair. “Where’s your commander?”
Jet replaced Tsephel, having withdrawn a dagger from his belt wordlessly. He yanked the firebender onto his knees.
Gritting his teeth, the young man squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re looking at him,” he spat. Opening his eyes, his glare settled on Katara. “And I’m looking at the Avatar. We all know your face, girl. The Phoenix King wants you dead.”
Boots clanged up the steps until Katara whipped her head around. The soldiers who had come to their leader’s aid froze in their tracks. The collective threatening frowns of three teenagers caused them to turn tail and flee. Jet hauled the commander to his feet, dragging him up the rest of the stairs and pulling him into the first open door. Tossing the man to the ground, Jet kicked the door shut and held the flat end of his belt dagger against his throat. “Start talking.”
The commander rolled his eyes. “What else do you want to know? That the army is going to march on the Air Temples?” He glared at the trio. “You might as well turn yourself in to the Phoenix King, Avatar. You’re just going to make the airbenders suffer. If you have any respect for your friend over there,” he nodded in Tsphel’s direction, “you’ll make it easier on everyone.”
Katara paused. He was right, part of her realized. It’s my fault. Then again, she could lure the army away from the Air Temples if she made her presence widely known. She straightened her spine. “I told your soldiers that if they dared to harm the Air Nomads then I would make the ocean swallow the entire archipelago. I can and will make good on that promise.” She leaned down until they were eye level, and for the first time she could see fear in the commander’s eyes. “Tell your soldiers to go back to the Fire Nation. Take your animals but keep your tanks and your swords. You have no place in Banka-Kadi.” She gripped his face between forefinger and thumb. “Make the order. Now.” She reached for the Avatar Spirit and she felt it surge through her. Katara raised her arms and pulled.
The ground beneath the Fire Nation outpost began to buckle and break, splintering as the Avatar’s earthbending pried the earth open. The floors rattled under her feet. She was aware of the muffled screams of the men outside and the cries of alarm from her friends. The rift opened, swallowing one of the armories whole. The screams and howling of the army’s mountains and scout dogs rose up. Katara clenched her fists. The commander was trembling in trepidation. Jet and Tsephel had backed away. The young firebender clung to Katara’s legs, paralyzed with fear.
“Okay!” He shouted as he covered his head and ears. “Okay!”
Katara snapped back into herself, grateful for Jet’s supporting arm to steady her. The Fire Nation commander cowered at her feet. “Make the order,” she repeated.
He scrambled to his feet. Katara turned to face her companions. “Tearing this place down with people in it…that’s not who I am. That’s not what I want to be.” Other Avatars have done it. But I’m not them. I’m Katara. Katara the Polar Bear Dog. Katara the Avatar. Katara who would try to make the world a better place, and this was not the way. The Phoenix King would have his comeuppance and Katara would have her revenge, but she would not take the lives of men simply following orders. She watched silently as the man retreated down the stairs. Once the soldiers were gone, she would flood the halls of the outpost so that no man could return. “What is your name?” She called out.
The man in the Fire Nation armor halted mid-step. His head swiveled slowly. “Rojhan,” he answered. “My name is Rojhan.”
Katara nodded. “Go away from here, Rojhan. And carry this message to your King. Either the world will have peace, or I will have his head.”
In the days that followed, the Fire Nation outpost had become a watery grave, a somber admonition of the might of the Avatar and her displeasure. The armory and tanks became beached whales of rust, forever to remain untouched after the legion fled with their honor and lives. They vanished into the forests and roads in Banka-Kadi on a march of shame.
Mo-Pet seemed to breathe easier despite the rain. Katara stirred to the smell of Tsephel’s heavily spiced lentils and hominy. Jet slept beside her, and some time during the night she had curled closer to him. His presence made her realize that though she loved the Air Nomads dearly, she had always felt as though she was the protector. Her brother and father and all of IcePoint had kept her safe. They had been her protectors and now it was the other way around. She dislodged herself from the boy’s embrace and rolled off of the bed. She stepped around the partition wall.
Tsephel didn’t look up at her entrance. “Those princess habits never die. Must be nice to sleep in,” she teased. “Is Wonder Boy hungry?”
“He’s still asleep,” the Avatar answered as Tsephel fed her a spoonful of breakfast as a taste test. “Are you ready to leave?”
The airbender nodded. It was in her blood to wander, to never settle in one place for too long lest she become restless. “That swamp of yours isn’t going to materialize here.” She set the spoon down. “I was thinking…you’re public enemy number one to the Fire Nation. How are you going to master firebending? I doubt you’ll find a willing sifu.”
Katara sighed. “I know,” she replied, “but at least let me master airbending first.” In her spirit she knew it was backwards. The cycle was water, earth, fire, air. Perhaps that was why airbending didn’t come as easily as she had hoped. The situation didn’t give her much time to meander. “I have to stop Ozai.” And find Sokka. And appease the spirit-gods.
As if hearing her thoughts, Tsephel reached out and grasped her hand. “We have a saying. You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself. I know Ubon was helping you find the calm waters within.” Her countenance was somber, her gray eyes alight with a fervor Katara had never seen. “Keep that peace. Keep that hope.”
There is one thing that does not die.
Hope does not die.
Time and time again, through the lifetimes and the millennia and the epochs and eras, it was one thing that the Avatar had always known. It was their endless task to kindle and tend to that flame.
Katara squeezed Tsephel’s fingers and behind her, she could hear Jet stirring. They would follow her, she knew, and some part of her spirit whispered “to the west” and Katara knew where her feet would lead.
Chapter 47: Fire Made Flesh
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
Seeing twenty eight thousand earthbenders marching under a dragon banner awakened in Lu-Ten some type of primal emotion that he could not quite explain; some type of bloodlust and pride at the same time, fueled by the anger that had somehow dug its way deep into him after his death and refused to leave. It lingered just under the surface, even when he felt joy, spreading its insidious fingers throughout his mind. For the first two months it terrified him.
It was a dragon cradled on his shoulder, whispering that his uncle would one day have his due.
He watched the sky as the host crossed the temperate lands of Arakem, two long columns of men, eel-hounds and armadillo-horses, and wagons drawn by puma-goats and oxen, and a disjointed trail of other unenlisted men and women that trickled in from the villages they passed. Izon and Izara flew overhead, shrieking in play, sometimes disappearing but always returning before dawn of the next day. Lu-Ten’s ostrich horse plodded on steadily. Lallo was on his left with Yaretzi in the saddle behind him. Dejen and Tenoch were on his right. They had been on the march for weeks already, leaving Hodan and her illustrious city behind.
Lu-Ten could feel Tenoch watching him, his lips pursed. For the two months of being sequestered away in a remote village on the far edges of Arakem and Garsai, Tenoch had been his only familiar company. The others had been elders of the Order of the White Lotus and a few trusted villagers that clothed him and tended to his wound. Yaretzi’s fire had been able to keep his chakras alight and warm his spirit enough to keep his blood from clotting in his veins, but the stab wound was still an ugly, angry ruin. The assassin had sliced him from his navel outwards, deep enough that the wound had to be packed and cleaned with a burning alcohol that left him screaming and biting down on a piece of wood. Tenoch had complained that it would have healed much cleaner if a waterbender had been amongst the group of White Lotus members.
Two months had seen him learning the intricacies of Fire Nation and global politics from a firebending elder by the name of Jeon-Jeon and a Garsai noblewoman named Szei-Lin. They had taught him of the noble families of the archipelago and how society was structured. Things, Lu-Ten thought sourly, that he would have known if not for his treacherous kin. Even his cousins, who hadn’t been born when he was whisked away in the middle of the night, would die.
From base to branches.
Zuko and Azula were their names, the Crown Prince and his younger sister. The elder was seventeen, born four years after Ozai ascended the throne, and the girl two years younger. Tenoch told him that they looked like him, with the same comeliness and height that their dynasty was known for. Lu-Ten listened intently, staring down at the portraits of each member of his family that Jeon-Jeon had provided. The resemblance between himself and his uncle was uncanny. Lu-Ten’s eyes were a shade darker, a bit more narrow, and his face just a touch rounder. His aunt, Ozai’s wife, was beautiful with both a kindness and conniving in her eyes that made Lu-Ten hate her even more.
“Lu-Ten,” it was Dejen who disrupted his thoughts. “We should set up camp soon. It will take a while to assemble the pavilions and the cook lines.”
Armies, especially such large ones, moved slowly. Almost infuriatingly so. It irritated Lu-Ten to no end. They could only travel so far a day and at times it felt as though they had not traveled far at all from Hodan’s capital. It had taken several weeks for the army to be assembled and and even longer to be supplied with food, mounts, weapons, and the other necessities of a military host. Seven legions of infantrymen and twenty-six cohorts of earthbenders was a gargantuan task to assemble. During those weeks Lu-Ten and the others had taken advantage of Hodan’s reluctant hospitality, her cold eyes calculating every expense.
No matter, Lu-Ten thought. The debt would be paid. The archipelago was rich with resources and had contributed to the burgeoning rail system that was creeping its way over the Earth Kingdoms. He could capitalize on that and the colonies peppering Garsai would provide more than enough extra revenue. “Make the call,” he answered finally.
Dejen nodded stiffly and pulled on the reins of his mount, wheeling the animal around to ride down the line to announce the order to the First Spears.
“Are we sleeping under the stars tonight or in the comfort of your makeshift palace?” Lallo teased. “And fix your face. You look like you’ve swallowed a lemon.”
Lu-Ten grinned back at his friend. “I’m feeling especially spoiled today.” The pavilion tent was nearly as large as the suites in Hodan’s palace and complete with its own scaled down luxuries.
Dejen returned with one of the First Spears, a physically unassuming man with a number of badges and medals on his neck. He dipped his head in respect to Lu-Ten. “Prince, the legions are building camp as we speak. Might for a moment we discuss a few things over the dinner fire?”
“Of course,” Lu-Ten responded and could see Tenoch nod in approval. A king listens and considers all counsel. A tyrant ignores all. The First Spear was a remarkably intelligent man. He had helped plan the campaign trail. From Arakem, they would cross through the unclaimed lands between Arakem and Garsai and claim the Estival Peninsula. From there, Lu-Ten would launch his attack on the archipelago and lay claim to each island until he reached the caldera. “Is it pressing? We could speak now.”
The First Spear raised his hand to decline. “Logistics, nothing more.” He was an unsmiling man.
Logistics, of course.
Izara shrieked overhead, bursting through the clouds. Her scales were near opalescent in the sunlight, powerful claws tucked close to her body. She was more aloof compared to Izon, who landed often enough that Lu-Ten was accustomed to riding ahead with him for long stretches of time. Touching the dragon no longer burned him, and Lu-Ten wondered what had changed. Yaretzi had been cryptic in her answer, saying only that Izon had accepted the three of them as his own kin. Izara was markedly more feral and had little love for any of them. Lu-Ten smiled inwardly. An army and two dragons could not be ignored. A dragon with an innate distrust for men even less so.
It would be ironic for a man who shunned his dragon sigil to be consumed by one.
They set about constructing the camp. The Arakemeti favored grids in their infrastructure, and their camp reinforced that notion. The men broke into specialized groups to assemble the fortified structures with a combination of earthbending and wood. A cohort established a stable for the animals. Lu-Ten dismounted from the ostrich-horse. Lallo swung down, assisting his sister. Yaretzi took control of meticulously marking the lines for the assembly of the tents, her new quiver swung over her shoulder. She wore the tunic and pants of an Arakemeti man, her thick hair bound tight in a chignon at the back of her head. The sight prompted Lu-Ten to rub at his own. Two months of solitude had grown his hair, though he kept it just below his jaw. Lallo, too, had traded the traditional style of the Sun Warriors in favor of Arakemeti plaits. While Lu-Ten had recovered, his wife had become sharp-tongued after dealing with Hodan and was quick to issue commands. She took a mallet and stake from one of the camp constructors and knelt in the dirt, hammering the stake until it was secure.
Lu-Ten did the same while Lallo helped unfurl the second half of the tent. Yaretzi worked wordlessly, bottom lip quivering in concentration.
The sun was just beginning to set when the makeshift hearths and cooking fires struck to life. The smell of food- basic but fulfilling rations like curries and stews- spread through the camp. Lu-Ten pulled his hair from his topknot and sat down heavily on a stool. His thighs ached from the hours astride. Yaretzi massaged his shoulders. “What do you think they want to talk about?” She asked. “Logistics can mean a lot of things.”
Lallo flailed his hand. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say they think we need more supplies. Never mind the bloated column we already have.” The three of them were unaccustomed to the sheer size of a military host. Lallo and Lu-Ten were Sun Warriors, so they were familiar with formations, but their people had never fought foreign enemies. At least not in generations. The last war, if it could even be called that, had been a civil war that lasted two days more than fifty years ago. Two twin brothers had disputed the other’s right to be chief. Their factions had splintered the city until they slew each other with a red thread. “But what do I know?”
“There’s still much to learn,” Tenoch reassured them all as he arrived with the First Spear. He patted Lu-Ten’s shoulder.
Tenoch had been the first person he had recognized when he awoke on the straw bed in the village. He had awoken screaming, beating at imaginary hands that threatened to tear at his cheeks and eyes. He dreamt of being devoured by a massive serpent. He had dreamt that he was a small boy yet again, standing in front of his giant of an uncle as the man burnt his world to the ground. He had awoken angry that the Phoenix King had the entire world under his thumb. It was the bloodlust that came first, that ran deep like a current, and try though he might, Lu-Ten could not shake it for long.
He would never confide in anyone about the war raging in his mind. Not even Yaretzi. Especially not Yaretzi, whose gaze was one of devotion and concern. Lu-Ten mentally kicked himself for the way he had treated her in Al-Imbatu. If he had shown her respect, if he had not given her a bad face then perhaps… Her absence had cut through his heart like another dagger. He had longed for her voice, her touch, her kindness even when he hadn’t deserved it. It was only when she was gone from him did Lu-Ten realize he loved her.
The First Spear carried a writing pad and pencil. He sat across from the Prince and his council. Dejen seemed disinterested, which Lu-Ten knew he was already privy to the conversation. “After conferring with the legion heads, I wanted to propose sending a scouting force ahead of the army in every direction. There has been news that the Phoenix King has issued raids on the Air Nomads to force the Avatar out of hiding. Such a large force will draw attention. I would loathe having our queen facing a siege on your behalf. She’s already done enough for you.”
Yaretzi gasped at the man’s candor. Lu-Ten could feel them all watching him, gauging his reaction. They thought he was going mad, he knew. Lu-Ten lifted his head. “That is perfectly logical. Queen Hodan has been beyond generous and I would hate to draw Ozai’s ire on the kingdom. Even with the Phoenix King…preoccupied with the Avatar, we should err on the side of caution. I trust your judgment as the First Spear. Do as you must.”
The lanky man nodded. “One more thing, Prince Lu-Ten,” he cast a sidelong glance at Dejen and Tenoch. “Perhaps you haven’t heard of the boy from the Water Tribes-”
Tenoch cleared his throat loudly. “ We shall discuss that matter at another time, Lord Gebre. Please, if you would allow us a moment.” He shared pointedly at the decorated legion leader. “We will reconvene in the morning before the camp is disassembled and then you may voice whatever concerns you have. Have a good night.” He dismissed the man.
As Lord Gebre turned on his heel, Lu-Ten glanced back at the older men. He had heard of the boy from the Southern Water Tribes who was making his way through the other half of the continent. His father had been slain by Lu-Ten’s uncle in a coup and he traversed the Earth Kingdoms in search of the same thing that Lu-Ten needed: an army. He had won over Omashu and Kyoshi, two of the smallest kingdoms. Distance had kept Lu-Ten from knowing much more. Dejen and Tenoch knew more, without a doubt. The spider web of the Order of the White Lotus was spun in the most remote of places. He ate in a tense silence, considering all of the possibilities about the boy.
He could be another enemy.
Or he could be an ally.
Lu-Ten stood and bid a goodnight to his advisors. (Family, they were his family. They had always been.) He tugged on Yaretzi’s hand and she followed him into the pavilion, pulling her hair free as she went. Lu-Ten shed his vest and tossed his boots aside before throwing himself on the futon. He was grateful to have taken advantage of the brief minutes he had been able to wash his skin while constructing the camp. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
Yaretzi joined him shortly after. Her soft hair rubbed against his arm as she settled into the hard angles of his body. Lu-Ten cracked one eye open to see that she had pulled on a night chemise. He settled against the pillows and waited.
“What do you think about the Water Tribe boy?” She asked and Lu-Ten smirked. He knew her well enough. “He’s opposed to your uncle just like you are. You could join forces, yes? Isn’t the Phoenix King holding his sister captive?”
“The princess from the other Water Tribe,” Lu-Ten corrected. He had not considered the other events happening all over the world, though he was connected to them all. The Water Tribe boy. The Avatar. The Water Tribe Princess. There was one unifier: his treacherous uncle. “His sister died. At least that’s what Dejen said. And he might be opposed to Ozai, but he might also be opposed to me. We’re firebenders. His father was killed by firebenders sent by my uncle.”
Yaretzi pondered his words. “Then it would be a war on two fronts for the both of you. If you knew where he was, it might not hurt to parley with him. I spent two months with Hodan, I’m sure two days or two weeks wouldn't be too disastrous.” She shifted. “Don’t you think?”
Lu-Ten rolled over on top of her, pushing her legs up and apart. His wife squeaked in surprise. Lu-Ten didn’t want to think at all. “Enough of that,” he grinned, “and more of this.”
Dawn came too quickly, yet they rose with it all the same. Lallo was already outside, flowing through the katas with an ease that only came with practice. Izon had curled up close by, his ancient eyes transfixed on the Sun Warrior and his paws drawn up under his chin. Izara lingered, not nearly as at ease with humans as her brother (or her mate? Lu-Ten still wasn’t sure.) Her eyes followed their movements as Yaretzi slid in easily with her brother, golden tinged flame bursting from their hands. Lu-Ten counted the steps before diving into the dance as well, a Sun Warrior once more. Where Lallo kicked, Lu-Ten punched, and Yaretzi’s dips and dives connected them both. Their flames danced over her skin and she passed it back to them, lost in the trance of meditation. Izon flicked his tail. Izara watched intently, still uncertain. Yaretzi grabbed a hold of the fire and thrusted her arms out, sending out streams of multicolored flames. Lu-Ten never tired of her firebending displays. Lallo and Lu-Ten were stronger, but Yaretzi maintained a prodigious control that allowed her to execute feats Lu-Ten could only dream of. Perhaps that was why the dragons kept so close.
“I can’t decide if she wants to eat me or just hates me,” Lallo jerked his head in the she-dragon’s direction. “She’s like Yaretzi. But prettier.”
Yaretzi swatted at him just as Dejen cleared his throat in a wordless reprimand. He was accompanied by Lord Gebre and a handful of other division leaders that Lu-Ten recognized but could not remember their names. “Prince Lu-Ten, Yaretzi. Lallo, I pray you all slept well. May we speak?”
The earthbenders were eyeing the dragons warily, still unaccustomed to the sight of the scaled beasts. Disinterested, Izara took to the skies. Lu-Ten led the men into his pavilion where they gathered at the low table. Lu-Ten kept silent as Lord Gebre unfurled a map, spreading it across the surface. He set a tile on their location. “In four days’ time we will reach the city of Damat-Harar, the seat of Semera. From there we will turn west and south to the River of Kor-rah into the shared lands on the border with Garsai. When we cross out of Arakem, we are most vulnerable to the Phoenix King. We will send land scouts, but your dragons will also prove beneficial.”
“Of course,” Lu-Ten agreed. He looked down at the map. Arakem stretched across a large swath of the continent, more than he could have ever imagined. For the first time he realized the immense power that Hodan and the Hyeagles held, and it dawned on him that he would have even more. Lady Kahina’s words, spoken so long ago, returned to him: ‘Your joy will give birth to grief, and your happiness will turn to sorrow until you taste nothing but ashes in your mouth. The skies will be black with smoke. Only then will you ascend the throne and not a day before.’ It would all work in his favor if the oracle was to be believed. She technically had not been wrong. He had died before his twenty-fifth year (and been resurrected). The prophecy unnerved him. Why would the gods drag him through the mud before they sat him on the throne? Why couldn’t they have just…made things easier?
Lord Gebre nodded stiffly. “I would also once more like to bring up the matter of the Water Tribe boy. He’s gaining influence in the east, and it would behoove you both to align yourselves against the Phoenix King. By all accounts he, too, has intentions of taking the Estival Peninsula.”
“We’ll beat him there, won’t we?” Lallo asked.
“The journey is long and an army moves slowly, my child. There is a possibility that he will reach the peninsula before Prince Lu-Ten, but he does not have the manpower to take down the forces there.” Dejen tapped his chin. “Perhaps it would be best to splinter once we reach the unclaimed lands. Lu-Ten would parley with the boy. It must be understood that they have many mutual friends.” He looked pointedly at the Sun Warrior.
It was a reassurance just as much as it was a threat. To quarrel with the Water Tribe boy was to unravel the intricate politicking of the Order.
“There are many rivers to ford,” Lord Gebre said, “and many bridges to cross.”
The bridge over the river leading into Damat-Harar was an exemplary display of painstakingly precise earthbending. With pride Dejen explained that the Arakemeti were renowned for their ingenuity and engineering innovation. There were a number of professors at both the University of Ba Sing Se in Laogai and the College of Garsai that hailed from the kingdom, and even more emigrants that found work for royal and influential families. There was a collaborative effort to quickly expand the rail system deeper into Arakem, even over the desert. They were working with members from the Tribes of Si-Wong, who were famous for their sandbending, along with Laogai and Garsai to make the idea possible.
Damat-Harar had the same cityscape as the capitol and all other Arakemeti settlements that Lu-Ten had seen. It was organized on a grid with neat, dense, quadrants and a central vein that ended with the gubernatorial seat. The seat was unsurprisingly held by another of Hodan’s kin, a younger sister named Bilqiis who according to Dejen was blessedly more amicable than either of her siblings. A missive had been sent ahead to alert the city of their imminent arrival so that the denizens of Damat-Harar were not thrown into a panic by an army and two dragons suddenly posted on their doorstep.
Lady Bilqiis, for her credit, greeted Lu-Ten and his companions with the respect she would afford to a peer and not a beggar king. She was stately like her siblings with the same inclination for luxury as evident through the rings that she twirled around her fingers “Uncle Dejen! It’s been years since I’ve seen you last. Hodan and Kofi both wrote to me.” She embraced her uncle before acknowledging the younger trio and Tenoch. “Prince Lu-Ten. Princess Yaretzi. Lord Lallo.”
Lallo preened his feathers. “Lord Lallo. That sounds good. That sounds really good.”
Even though her estate was not as sprawling as Kofi’s and would look pathetic next to Hodan’s palace, it was clear that Lady Bilqiis had an affinity for pink gemstones and cats.
There were cats everywhere.
Yaretzi (naturally, Lu-Ten thought as he rolled his eyes) took to an amber eyed calico and striped kitten that she promptly began to carry around as if were a newborn. Lady Bilqiis was loquacious and pleasant, and was fascinated by Izon and Izara soaring over her keep. While also the warden of the province of Semera, she was Hodan’s Seneschal of Information which was an unnecessarily verbose title of spymaster. Despite her cheerful disposition, her knowledge of global matters made it clear to Lu-Ten that she had birds that flew far.
He learned that the Avatar was the younger sister of the Water Tribe boy, and that she had sequestered herself with the Air Nomads. She was very much alive, having survived the whole time in Banka-Kadi out of the eyes of the Phoenix King’s spies. The other Princess had been wed to the Crown Prince, Ozai’s son. Well there’s my solution , Lu-Ten thought with bitter humor. If he wanted to garner favor with the Northern Water Tribe then he simply had to give their daughter back. It was easy enough. He wasn’t sure if they would want the yellow eyed pups (or guppies, in this case) that he was certain would follow, but that was not his problem.
On their third evening in Damat-Harar, the governess of Semera joined Lu-Ten on the balcony of the suite she had given him. Yaretzi sat on the floor at his side, cradling her kitten. Bilqiis, despite her height, moved with surprising quiet. She stopped at Lu-Ten’s flank, bejeweled fingers grasping the railing as she traced the dark forms of Izon and Izara across the bleeding sky. At her feet were the two long haired cats that followed her every move. “It is said that dragons are not quite gods, but that they are fire made flesh, crafted and raised by the spirit-gods. You worship those spirit-gods, I believe. I am not familiar with the names of your more obscure deities.” At Lu-Ten and Yaretzi’s confirmation, she nodded. “The dragons are extraordinary creatures. It should be said that I am grateful that I am not on the receiving end of their flames.”
“Your sister was wise,” Lu-Ten responded and the Arakemeti’s eyes flashed. He swallowed, realizing belatedly what he had implied. Kind though she may be, she was still the queen’s sister. “What I mean to say is that Queen Hodan has always struck me as a woman who can see beyond the next moves on the Pai Sho board. I look forward to working with such a brilliant woman.”
Bilqiis was mollified, reaching down to scoop up one of her cats. “My sister is no fool,” she said. Her words were dripping with honey. “Wise men have many friends, you see.” Her smile was bright and Yaretzi looked up from where she sat. “Stay as long as you’d like.”
After a blissful week of sleeping in a bed that was not in a tent, they departed from Damat-Harar. Lu-Ten climbed atop Izon and flew ahead of the others, taking delight in the way the wind stung his eyes and whipped his hair free from its restraint. His ancestors had done the same, owning the skies as they owned the earth. The Sun Warriors of the past had been dragonriders as well, back during the times when the creatures were not so elusive. Each day he flew further and further, finding it harder and harder to return to the others. Izon shared the same sentiments, oftentimes landing and waiting for the troops to catch up.
In the lands where the River of Sameda met the River of Kor-Rah is where he saw them.
It was a small structure, hardly noticeable from where he flew, but he saw the red banner all the same. It was a pitiful outpost, not at all like the proper fortresses and barracks that Lu-Ten had learned about. This one was square shaped with an empty central courtyard that was used as a supply area. It had a singular tower. Compared to the timeless structures that decorated the province of Semera, it was apparent that the outpost had been hastily constructed for a scouting division that was not one of Lu-Ten’s. The sigil of the Phoenix taunted him from where it snapped in the wind.
Lu-Ten pulled on Izon’s ruff, willing the dragon to halt. They flew back, just high enough that they would disappear into the clouds. The air was cool.
For a long time they hovered. Lu-Ten stared down at the soldiers from where he sat atop Izon. They were like ants milling about. He figured it was perhaps one hundred in total, obviously dispatched from a larger division outside of Arakem’s borders. Bilqiis (and Hodan) would have been aware of a larger military presence. Their base was built like an infantry camp and meant to be disassembled with ease when the order was made. It was almost amusing to watch them, knowing that they had no clue magic made flesh lingered just above them. They had no intelligent thought beyond their orders. Lu-Ten leaned back. If he was to help bring peace to the world then he had to eliminate his uncle. If these mindless drones so readily and whole-heartedly supported Ozai, then they would clearly come after Lu-Ten with knives in the dark.
Izon growled.
Phantom pain flared where the courtesan had tried to disembowel him. He recalled the sheer terror that had set his veins alight as he struggled, the way the serrated blade had ripped his skin and the way his nostrils had been filled with the stench of his own blood. It was his uncle’s doing. Everything was his uncle’s doing. And these mindless drones followed him wholeheartedly. He looked on with contempt. He could feel Izon weaving through his mind, manifesting into the dragon that whispered on his shoulder, and Lu-Ten wondered if they were one and the same. His vision tunneled and frayed at the edges, his sense of smell became sharper. Once more his eyes settled on the Fire Nation scouts.
They were ants.
He spurred the dragon forward and down, bidding Izon to obey his commands. The dragon allowed Lu-Ten to guide him through the clouds. Lu-Ten could feel the heat gathering in Izon’s belly. He nudged him on.
His uncle would have his due.
They erupted from the clouds in a blur of red scales and red fire. Izon released an earth shaking roar as his breath scorched the ground, setting the grass ablaze. Lu-Ten leaned low, watching as the ants raised their faces to take in the mighty harbinger of fire and blood. They cried out in terror and prayer, pointing at the clouds as Izon beat his wings to make another pass. Burn them , Lu-Ten thought viciously, burn them. They would kill him if they had the chance. Ozai had tried numerous times. This was his recompense. A brave fool launched a fireball skyward.
His uncle would have his due.
Izon bellowed with their shared anger. Lu-Ten felt the connection between their minds sever as the dragon acted on his own accord, wheeling around in the clouds as the firebenders shot a barrage of poorly aimed jets of flame. Lu-Ten could see the bloated Arakemeti host in the distance and noted three figures tearing away from the others, throwing up dust as they raced in the direction of the outpost. It was of little importance to him. Lord Gebre and the other First Spears had yet to assemble a scouting squadron, though they sent out individual soldiers or pairs to map the path ahead. What would they think upon seeing the king they were paid to follow razing an enemy camp to the ground? He tightened the hold on Izon’s mane and silently whispered “ we are fire made flesh. Destroy them.”
Irritated at the weak fireball that licked at his wing membrane, the dragon swooped low, his breath consuming half of the makeshift outpost in one fell swoop Lu-Ten smirked as the screams rose up louder and shriller. His uncle would soon do the same. Perhaps he would realize that phoenixes did not return from the ashes after all. They turned and made another pass. Smoke billowed up in black plumes. Wood burned and broke apart, collapsing upon itself. Izon angled his wings and screeched his displeasure. They made a third pass until the entire entire Fire Nation base was going up in putrid smoke and the screams had faded into an eerie quiet. He did not rest until the sky was blackened with smoke and soot.
It was only then that Lu-Ten blinked and realized what he had done. He expected to feel despair, to feel sick, to feel like a murderer. He felt none of those things, only the dulcet satisfaction of having cleansed the earth of the scum that spread like parasites. The scene was one pulled from the apocalypse, dark clouds and charred wood. Tiny ground fires and burnt ants. Look at what you’ve caused, uncle. Look at what awaits you. The prince and his dragon landed. Lu-Ten slid from his position on Izon’s back, his boots immediately sullied by the ashes. The ground was brittle underfoot as he walked through the aftermath of Izon’s might. He listened to the groan of the few remaining structures as they finally folded and fell, causing the ground to quake.
Lu-Ten sat in the middle of the destruction, his mind elsewhere. Images flashed before him. He was a child, just beginning to speak, toddling towards his gaunt grandfather. Azulon knelt to scoop him up in a rare moment of lucidity, stroking his hair. Lu-Ten’s father looked on with pride, though there was wariness in his expression as well. Azulon had grown increasingly unstable. He was paranoid even of shadows, and spoke of comets and dragons and a realm where the spirit-gods crossed into the mortal world. And there , lurking at the fringes of Lu-Ten’s memory, was Ozai. He watched on, and perhaps at that point of time he might have felt something that could pass as affection for his little nephew, but there was the gleam of bloodlust and thirst for a power that most men would never attain. I am stronger than you, uncle. I have a dragon. I am closer to the gods than you will ever be.
The thunder of hooves alerted him to an approaching party. Izon curled around him, fire forming in his throat. Lu-Ten stood still as three ostrich horses materialized from the dark haze. The dragon grumbled.
“Prince Lu-Ten!” Dejen called out as their ostrich horses galloped towards him. “We saw Izon in the sky and the smoke-” His words were cut short as the animals stopped abruptly, rearing away from the devastation. His face twisted in confusion, morphing into dismay.
Yaretzi’s ostrich horse skidded to a halt. “No no no no,” Yaretzi wailed in lamentation as she slid down from her mount, letting the reins slip through her fingers. Lallo followed close behind. Her eyes fluttered about, on the smoldering wood, on the decimation of the scouting force, and finally on the Prince of the Fire Nation and his dragon sitting with apathetic tranquility. “Lu-Ten…”
Dejen stood stock still, his mouth agape. Tenoch leapt down from the ostrich horse, his hands atop his head. Disbelief clouded his features. Lallo had done the same, dropping to his knees. His jaw was a tight line. Yaretzi heaved and gagged. Tenoch let out a keening moan. “Lu-Ten, what have you done? What have you done?!” He turned in disoriented circles. “Lu-Ten, child, what have you done?!”
Lu-Ten glanced at the carnage surrounding them. His wife was sobbing. Lallo had also begun to weep into his fist. He shrugged.
Tenoch and Dejen watched him captiously. The older Sun Warrior worked his lips but made no sound. Neither of them said a word.
“You just killed innocent men!” Lallo had risen with draconian speed, crossing the distance between himself and the other young man. He lashed out with his fist swathed in fire, swinging his arm in a fierce left hook. Instinctively Lu-Ten firebent a wall of defense only for his wife’s brother to deflect and duck under it, sliding around him and grabbing Lu-Ten’s wrist. He twisted it until the taller Sun Warrior could hear the bones crack. The Prince cried out, nearly dropping to his knees at the sudden pain. He spun on his heel in an attempt to free himself, only for Lallo to twist harder. Lallo kneed him in the spine and brought him to the ground. With a sweep of his leg he slid Lu-Ten’s knees until his brother was face down in the dirt. “You just killed a squadron of men! They were humans, they were people! Brother, do you not understand what you just did?” His dark eyes glistened. “Lu-Ten, why?”
He didn’t know why. Or at least he could not explain his reasoning. Why should he have to explain himself? He had slipped inside the mind of a dragon, inside of a creature whose power was beyond most human reckoning. His will and Izon’s had become one and the same. Yaretzi looked at him as if he had turned into a demon. Lu-Ten twisted his neck to get a better view of the others.
“For two decades we kept you hidden. Men and women sacrificed their lives to ensure your safety. Plans were put into motion before you were even five years old, waiting for the day when the will of the gods ordained you to claim your birthright and help restore balance in the world. I gave you to Tuwa so that you would grow up knowing the true meaning of life, so you would help usher in an era of peace. So that you would be better than your uncle.” Tenoch spoke slowly, tentatively moving closer under Izon’s primordial scrutiny. Lu-Ten saw that he was sweating. “I gave you to Tuwa because she knew the secrets of the magic of the dragons. We instilled in you a respect for life and power, so much so that dragons recognized your bloodline. Izon bonded to you. Yaretzi breathed life back into you. But perhaps we were all mistaken. It seems that we resurrected a mad dog, not a man. Perhaps we should have left you to die.”
Rage flared in Lu-Ten's chest.
Izon lunged with his fangs exposed, a roar building in his throat. Tenoch ducked out of the way just as Yaretzi moved to stand in front of the dragon, holding an orb of green and pink tinged fire with both hands high above her head.
Izon hesitated and stood mesmerized, his outstretched wings nearly covering the priestess. Unblinkingly she reached up to touch his snout, gently pulling on his ruff until his ear was level with her mouth. Lu-Ten could hear her calming chants, her lilting song of dragonkeepers that seemed to lull Izon into a stupor. He felt himself calm as well, swaying forward to rise to his feet as Lallo released him. No wonder they rumored that she was a sorceress. Yaretzi looked at the dragon and then the man. She dropped her hands, letting the enchanting sphere of fire dissipate at her fingertips. “Spare him,” she commanded and even the elders were taken aback by the conviction in her voice, “just this once. He did not know the true depths of a dragon’s magic. We shall all agree that dragons are volatile and mystical creatures, yes? With power beyond our imaginings.” Her eyes glittered with the ancient secrets of the Sun Warriors that not even her brother was privy to, her knowledge passed down from priest to priestess over the millennia. She had learned of the world through Citlali and Tenochizun. “When word spreads of this crime, Lu-Ten did not order this .” She glared at them all and Lu-Ten realized he had never seen this side of his wife, this priestess who bent fire until it was akin to magic. “What’s done is done. There are twenty eight thousand men who are sworn to Lu-Ten. It would behoove us all if they don’t whisper in the dark.” Her dark eyes dug into him with an intensity he had never seen. “I did not think that your bond with Izon would go so deeply…but as sure as the sun rises, if you become like your uncle, then I will cut you down myself. I swear it on the child that grows in my belly.”
Amidst the smoke and the death and the destruction they all froze. Lallo whipped around to face his sister, mouth falling open. “Wait, what?”
Yaretzi nodded and with Izon at her side she looked like Citlali reincarnated.
Lu-Ten paused, a cold sweat going down his spine. A child. He had not expected one, especially not so soon. He cursed himself. Then again, what did he expect from their early morning love making or the rendezvous they dared to indulge in? He hadn’t necessarily been cautious. It had to have happened in the early days when they were still in Hodan’s palace. His wife’s eyes were unfocused, having once more fallen into the apprehensive expression of a young woman. A child born in the safe city of the Sun Warriors or Hodan’s palace or even the Fire Nation court would have been celebrated. This one, Lu-Ten thought, would most likely be born in a camping pavilion surrounded by soldiers marching to war. Of course it would have the protection of two dragons but-
With a madman of a father, bent on vengeance and fueled by an uncontrollable, insatiable rage that left him with little regard for human life. Lu-Ten swallowed his terror, acutely aware of the carnage at his feet. He had destroyed life while Yaretzi created it, the magic of her hands just as powerful as the magic of her womb.
“Well this is an unexpected surprise!” Lallo was the first to recover. “Nice way to break the news, though.”
Lu-Ten felt sick.
Yaretzi looked uncertain, her face flushing under the scrutiny of the men in her life. She fiddled with the whiskers of Izon’s snout after the dragon had lulled into contentment induced by the firebender. Lallo moved to embrace his sister and from where he stood, Lu-Ten saw that she was shaking. A pallor had washed over her face, washing her copper skin in gray. Go to her , his mind urged him but his feet refused to obey. Izon beat his wings and took off into the sky, leaving the five of them with the ostrich horses.
Lu-Ten trudged forward, tripping over his own feet as he joined Tenoch on the back of his ostrich horse. He remained in a stupor as they left the scene of his folly behind. Yaretzi blessed their souls in the tradition of the Sun People, and it was silently agreed amongst all that they would present the tragedy as one of Izon’s doing of his own volition, that the firebenders had tried to murder him and the dragon acted in self-defense. It was a feasible scenario. It would further drive Arakem away from the Fire Nation when the Queen learned of unauthorized use of her land, allowing the rest of the world to see just how far the Phoenix King had stooped. And yet he knew, deep in his soul, that it would be the first and only time that they would spare him.
Upon reaching the host, Lu-Ten leapt down from the saddle and assisted Yaretzi as she dismounted. He took a moment to study her in half-concealed awe. A baby.
A baby.
His child .
Yaretzi paused, scanning the front columns of the Arakemeti force. Izara danced alone overhead. Lu-Ten could not share his thoughts and intentions with the she-dragon. She was not his, not like Izon who had claimed Lu-Ten in reciprocation. Instead she seemed more inclined to follow Yaretzi. He heard her shriek. “We should speak in private, yes?” The Sun Priestess broke his thoughts. She tugged on his hand before he could answer, leading him a distance from the others.
Once out of earshot and out of sight, Lu-Ten’s wife shoved him. He stumbled, taken aback. Yaretzi had never done such a thing to him, even when she was a little girl. He grabbed her hands and jerked away at the unexpected heat. “If you ever lose yourself in Izon’s mind like that, the Order will kill you. As sure as the sun rises. Izon is a powerful being. He lends you his power and its taste will make you drunk.” Yet again she was the Sun Priestess. “One day will come when fire won’t distract him.” She jolted when Lu-Ten pressed his hand against her abdomen. Yaretzi gripped his wrist, her brown eyes boring into his golden ones. “You must listen to me, Lu-Ten. If you or Izon lose control…” her voice trailed off and she sighed tristfully. Lu-Ten’s stomach clenched at the sight of his wife so ill at ease. He sank to his knees, pressing his forehead against her belly. After a moment’s hesitation Yaretzi stroked his hair. “I considered making a tea to pass it. I prayed to Citlali to make it happen naturally, so I wouldn’t have to face the guilt, yet each day I woke up the same. Now is not the time. We are in the middle of a war, we are in danger and I just-”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted her. “I know.” It was early still, and though Lu-Ten was no physician, he knew enough to know that Yaretzi had only recently discovered the news herself. He knew that most women kept the discovery a close-kept secret in the early stages, when they were more at risk, yet his actions had forced her to divulge the information too soon. A pang cut through him. This was the love that Tonatiuh spoke of, a blood-deep adoration that grew ever stronger with the knowledge that not only had Yaretzi given him the gift of resurrection, she had gifted him new life through a child as well. Lu-Ten pressed his cheek against her abdomen, unable to pull away, unable to shake the delightful disbelief that his wife was nurturing his little one. ‘ Your son will be the morning star’, Lady Kahina had said. Perhaps this one was a girl and the son would come later. A princess, he thought joyfully and tried to imagine a daughter who would be just as beautiful as her mother.
A renewed determination coursed through his blood. His uncle and his ilk would die before Yaretzi gave birth, he would make sure of it. His child, perhaps his son or his daughter, would be born in the Fire Nation palace that was their birthright. That was his birthright.
When they returned, Dejen and Tenoch were waiting for them. “We shall need to find her a midwife,” Dejen said as they drew closer. “A trusted one. I will write to Bilqiis and tell her to send a reputable woman from Damat-Harar or perhaps from one of the towns along the River of Kor-Rah.” He and Tenoch began to fidget anxiously, as if they were both proud but nervous grandfathers. “We must make sure we have healthier rations for her as well.” Dejen had no children of his own, Lu-Ten had learned, yet he had poured his love into his grand-nieces and grand-nephew and later into Hodan’s precocious Osana. It was no surprise that he would dote upon Yaretzi as well.
“Only the best.” Tenoch agreed. “But let this remain between the five of us.” His look was a pointed one and Lu-Ten nodded in agreement. As Yaretzi said, they were in danger. She was in danger. What was to stop the Phoenix King from making an attempt on her life while she carried Lu-Ten’s heir? His mood soured and he glanced up at the clouds where his dragons played. His usurper uncle wouldn’t dare. Not when he had Izon and Izara.
What was to stop Izon from suddenly acquiring a curious yet specific taste for a certain human flesh?
The three weeks that it took them to leave Semera and enter the state of Al-Murur, the last state of Arakem, seemed to be especially hard on Yaretzi. To Lu-Tem, it seemed as though she was stopping every hour to vomit and spent as time much asleep as she did awake. She ate little, slumped across the back of her ostrich horse in such a state of misery that Lu-Ten wondered if she would begin to hate him. Tenoch assured Lallo and Lu-Ten that it was perfectly normal for a woman to be unwell. Tuwa, to Lu-Ten’s knowledge, had never suffered the same afflictions of early pregnancy. Then again, Tuwa had given birth to an entire brood of children. Lu-Ten figured that her body had grown accustomed to the process. Afterall Lallo, Moema, the deceased Patoch, Yaretzi, Tonauac, Temena, and the baby Tenotzi had all come from her womb.
Lallo tended to his sister like a nursemaid, as he had always done. He and Yaretzi had always been the closest. Lu-Ten could barely remember when Yaretzi had been born- he and Lallo had both been six years old- but he knew that Lallo had always adored her. She was the most spoiled of them all. Lu-Ten had no doubt that she would have been surrounded by a plethora of old hens if they were still in their homeland.
Despite their best efforts, the knowledge of Yaretzi’s pregnancy spread like wildfire throughout the ranks of the infantry and subsequently the camp followers. The First Spears of each division personally congratulated them both, setting down their spears in a show of loyalty to the unborn prince or princess. One of the First Spears, the only woman who held the title, pulled Yaretzi under her wing. She had three sons of her own that she left in her hometown. It must have hurt more for her, Lu-Ten thought, knowing that she was marching away from her children for an undetermined amount of time to serve a foreign king. Beggar king, beggar king, the dark dragon on his shoulder whispered, you’ll always be the beggar king.
The camps had been assembled for the night, and Lord Gebre predicted that they would see some days of heavy rain that would stall progress. Tenoch and Dejen advised Lu-Ten to stay in place until it passed. The smell of Arakemeti food filled the air. Platters of curried turkey goat and braised deer-cow were passed to each member of the host. Arakemeti soldiers ate well, experiencing none of the pathetic rations that Lu-Ten heard of other armies. It was part of their culture. Well-fed soldiers were strong soldiers, and the kingdom was more than rich enough to sustain the demand.
Many of the inexperienced soldiers were of an age with Lu-Ten himself. He watched them spar and play, much like he did with Lallo. From where he sat, he could see Yaretzi and the matronly First Spear. As the setting sun gave way to twilight, the two women readied themselves for a spar. “You must keep your blade sharp and your mind sharper,” he heard her say to the Sun Priestess, “now more than ever.”
Lu-Ten sat up straight as the women began their circuit, alternating between blades and bending. The older woman Sagal had not earned her status as First Spear by a fluke. She was quick on her feet for an earthbender, launching into each form in the blink of an eye. Dust flew as she sent rock after rock at the firebender, the gold anklets on her feet flashing in the dying light. She had taken the advantage of striking first, pushing Yaretzi further and further back with the point of her spear. He could see his wife stumbling over her own feet, obviously unaccustomed to combat. She was sharper, though, and Lu-Ten remembered that she had spent months with Hodan. She knew how earthbenders fought. Her eyes were calculating as she hurled her own counterattacks, crying out in pain when one of Sagal’s rocks grazed her shoulder. Lu-Ten started to rise to his feet and felt Lallo’s firm grip on his elbow.
Yaretzi fought with renewed vigor, her fire flashing pink and green at the edges. She had woven the magic of the Sun Warriors into her firebending, lashing out with blasts and jets of fire that matched the katas they had all learned as children. The older woman was struggling to keep up, wielding her spear in an attempt to pierce through Yaretzi’s fiery defense. A number of men had gathered around to watch the display, captivated. The firebender wove an impenetrable wall of defense, kicking out a barrage that left the earthbender bouncing on her toes to evade her. Yaretzi fought as if she was dancing; she was first in one place and then another. She was a master firebender, fueled by the knowledge she had acquired from her patron god Citlali. Dodging a sizable boulder, Yaretzi dipped and slid forward on one knee.
Sagal, the First Spear, tripped backwards as Yaretzi entered her personal circle. The younger woman’s hands wrapped around the spear. The two of them grappled for a hold. Lallo cheered his sister on. Yaretzi repositioned her hands, wrenching the spear from the older woman’s grip and turning the spearhead to face Sagal. The First Spear stepped back. “I yield, princess,” she breathed with a smile. She nodded her head. “So that’s what they teach you in that jungle of yours?”
The younger woman bowed to her elder. “I am no warrior,” she admitted. “But I learned from my brother.”
Lallo beamed.
Lu-Ten found himself smiling as well, thinking once more with sadness of the time when he had shamed her. When he had rejected her time and time again. Back when he wasn’t a monster , that inkling in the back of his mind sang. Beggar king. Monster. What kind of man slaughters others with no remorse? His mood blackened. Look at you, mad like your grandfather. Mad like your uncle. Lu-Ten shook the thoughts from his mind. Mad dog mad dog mad dog.
He focused on his wife, illuminated by the setting sun, as striking as Citlali herself. She was a dragonkeeper, a guardian of the mythical scaled creatures, and a keeper of the sacred magic of the gods. He remembered her threat and he was fearful of when that day would come.
Chapter 48: A World for Gods
Chapter Text
Zuko
Yue was avoiding him.
Subtly, and if he had not known her, he would have never noticed. She left the room whenever he entered, and slept as far away from him as possible. Their conversations were short, her eyes always averted elsewhere. She was skittish and flighty, never without Tui. He had more than once made the mistake of reaching for her hand or offering to brush her hair like he imagined a good husband would, yet each time she had blanched and moved away. She bathed more frequently and ate very little, but whenever Zuko questioned her, he was met with a cantankerous response not at all like the graceful princess of before that had so recently begun to thaw.
He had left her in peace, stung, and boarded the dawn ferry to the site of the Project.
The sight of blasting jelly turned his stomach. The chemists that managed the production stepped with trepidation throughout the temperature controlled warehouse. Jars and barrels of the stuff lined steel shelves. In the recent months, manufacturing had ramped up at the behest of his father and the Ministry of Development, despite Zuko’s quiet protest. They had delivered two tons of blasting jelly in the last eight weeks, though not without a cost. Father had been notably apathetic when Zuko reported the deaths of seven workers. A means to an end , Zuko knew. The workers had been nameless, faceless ants in the grand scheme of things. Never mind the fact that they, too, had families. Zuko had allocated funds for wrongful death compensation packages to be sent to the beneficiaries of the men and though he knew that money would never replace human life, then at least the families would know he was not callous.
After the incident, it was immediately decided that all firebenders were to be immediately removed from the production island. Zuko wore leather gloves as a precaution, hesitant even to sneeze. “Is there anything else needed from the Ministry?” He asked the lead chemist, a man of mixed Fire Nation and Arakemeti ancestry whose name he had forgotten but whose records came with many titles and accolades. Zuko knew that he had studied in the College of Garsai, working with a group of scholars to fine tune the enchanting process of chemistry.
The chemist shook his head. “Only patience, Prince Zuko. It’s a daunting undertaking. I hope that His Grace is pleased that we are all ahead of schedule?”
Ahead of schedule of destroying the Northern Water Tribe. Never mind the fact that the Avatar isn’t even in the North Pole, Zuko thought sourly and not for the first time felt a deepest pang of regret. “Immensely.” Father had been ecstatic in his own way, in a better humor than Zuko had seen him in months. The news of the Traitor Iroh’s son had set his father in a black eristic rage, until even the Fire Sages and Tzumoro treaded lightly. He was consoled only by the quiet news that the boy (a man, Zuko thought, he was a man) had been disemboweled by a courtesan in Arakem. The agent from the Department of Intelligence had returned with a head coated in tar, which had promptly been charred by the Phoenix King. Zuko had long since grown accustomed to the stench of burnt hair. The most recent source of his father’s anger was the Avatar, and he had sent armies of firebenders to each of the Air Temples. Zuko had seen the messenger hawks fly in but by then the ferry had already begun to depart.
“It will be a very prosperous year, Prince Zuko.” The man saluted him. “The Phoenix will achieve new heights.”
Zuko could not shake the disquieting stone that had embedded itself in his gut, growing exponentially as the ferry and then the palanquin drew closer. He shuffled his notes and considered how he would present his formalized report to the Development of Ministry. Azula’s endeavor was remarkably more lax and part of Zuko was grateful that she had something that could keep her from meddling too much. She had thrown herself into her project of creating a coalition of women just as fierce and indomitable as she. Azula had always had the habit of immersing herself into her endeavors with a passion and determination that would terrify others, and a penchant for violence that suggested she had inherited the dynastic inclination to madness that had plagued their grandfather. Nevertheless he valued her insight, and there were many days that Zuko was grateful that his sister was his ally and not his enemy.
To his surprise he found his mother at the entrance of the palace complex, lacking her usual entourage of women that followed her like turtleducks. She had a couple of the household guards with her, standing a pace behind. In her arms she held her raccoon dog, a spoiled little monster named Ki-Yi that Father had gifted her on her last birthday. She was stroking the animal’s fur anxiously, heavy-handedly, and Zuko’s sense of foreboding grew louder still. Mother was never nervous. (Except for when he had seen her. He had wished it was a dream, a misremembering, but in his spirit Zuko knew it was not. Father would kill her if he ever found out.) Zuko stepped out of the litter and greeted his mother with a bow. “Mother?”
The Phoenix Queen placed her yipping little demonic furball into the unprepared arms of the guard to her left and used her newly freed hands to cup his face. “Zuko,” she laid a kiss on his forehead, “I waited for you. I sent your sister and the girls away to the Sakura Oasis.” Zuko frowned. The Sakura Oasis was a natural saline pool not far outside of the city, and was known as a spa of sorts. Nowhere Azula would go willingly. The sigh Ursa let out was ragged. “It is not safe for any of us right now, my love. Your father is…not…he is rather bellicose at the moment.”
“What’s wrong?” His father had been his usual self the evening before, perhaps even a tad more loquacious than normal. He had even smiled at Zuko more than once. He had been as content as he could be for a few weeks now, the prince thought. His father was not the gregarious type, but he had made his presence known in places where he was otherwise rarely seen. Zuko would dare say he was at ease. Triumphant, even. Gloating at finally having the world turn once more in his favor. “Where’s Tzumoro?”
Ursa snapped her fingers and the guards tightened their formation and passed Ki-Yi back to the queen. “The messenger hawks flew in this morning.” They began to walk around the perimeter of the administrative center. “It’s a twofold disaster. I tremble just to think of it.” Her eyes were trained straight ahead. “The Avatar destroyed the outpost in Mo-Pet. The Military Council had sent a legion to Banka-Kadi and the Eastern Air Temple. According to the report, she spared their lives and they now flee back west to the nearest train hub.” Zuko could hear the rattle in her voice. “The Avatar’s brother has also turned three kingdoms against us. But even that is insignificant compared to the other matter, my love. Arakem is no longer a friend of ours.”
Zuko inhaled sharply. “What?” That was impossible. Arakem and Garsai were the Fire Nation’s staunchest allies. Father had no reason to upset the Queen of Arakem. (They could not win a global war without the Arakemeti. It was simply not possible.) “Why?”
“He was dead , Zuko. I made the order myself. They brought his head! But now he marches south and west with an army and two dragons.” Ursa whirled on her son and Zuko could see the unchecked horror spreading across her countenance. It was the first time in all seventeen years of his life that he had ever seen his mother truly afraid. “Lu-Ten is alive.”
The sky was an endless blue and bloated white clouds drifted lazily, first one shape and then another. The turmoil below was not reflected in the heavens. Zuko swallowed. Did he question when? Or how? The Crown Prince was no fool. If Arakem, an ancient and self-serving nation, had turned its back on the Fire Nation then they had seen the tides turning. The dynasty of Hyeagles held no special love for the Traitor Iroh, much less his son. Two dragons, once the symbol of their house, were now their enemies. Zuko knew the might that his cousin carried. He understood his father’s rage. He knew his father’s nature. His mother looked up at him. “What do we do?”
Ursa sighed. “Wait for him to calm. Lord Tzumoro is pulling as many strings as he can. The girls will return in the late afternoon. Perhaps you should join them.” She cupped his cheek. “Go to the Sakura Oasis. I will send a servant to fetch you all when it has quieted here.” Only once had Zuko seen his mother in such a state- a sort of rigid calm that suggested the waters underneath had become a maelstrom. Composed, yet fearful.
He left her and a uni-horse was brought to him from the stable grounds. It was the perlino and white mare that Yue had ridden during their marital procession, a calm mount whose pleasant disposition managed to ease Zuko’s anxiety. She had been tacked up in the stables. Zuko swung his leg up and over, taking the reins in hand. Uni-horses were among the most placid of burden animals, and the mare was no different. She followed Zuko’s guiding hand away from the palatine complex, hooves plodding steadily away from the palace and city hub.
According to local lore, the Sakura Oasis was once the grotto where mythical nymph spirits descended to the earth. They bathed every new moon in the dead of the night, rejuvenating their immortal skin in the salty pool amidst the perpetual cherry blossoms. It was said that a mortal girl, barely out of swaddling clothes, stumbled upon the grotto. The spirits took her under their wings and pampered her in the way of the divine, and that girl would become a war lord of her own right and would guard the oasis to her death. Men were strictly forbidden to enter the sacred grounds where the saline pool was, however they were permitted in the main building where they could receive limited services.
Azula’s personal litter bearer was just outside of the entrance. He leaned against the side of the litter, arms crossed before his chest. Upon sight of Zuko, he rushed to stand but Zuko held up his hand. “Prince Zuko,” the older man greeted, “have you come to fetch your sister and wife?”
“The exact opposite,” Zuko responded and bit back the sour taste of apprehension. Azula was savvy enough to know that something was gravely amiss. Yue was as well, but she had seemed so lost in her own hazy labyrinth that Zuko had strong doubts of her noticing anything.
A woman was plucking away at a shamisen in a corner of the lobby, her eyes closed as she immersed herself in the ebb and flow of her own music. A number of women, noble and middle class alike, moved about. Some were trailed by their adopted green eyed children, their daughters that had been bartered and bought. Zuko averted his eyes, though he knew that their whispers would soon fill the room. The dashing Crown Prince coming to visit his young Water Tribe wife. How romantic, they would say, if only the wife was one of them.
Zuko had heard the whispers. His parents had as well, but no one was fool enough to voice their discontent at his marriage to Yue. The Phoenix King could have married Zuko to a peasant and the wisest courtiers would not have batted an eye. He moved to the main desk in the lobby, where the receptionist dropped into a bow. Her smile stretched across her face, drooping a little when Zuko denied services. He plopped onto one of the cushions and began to wait.
Getting Azula to enjoy any kind of spa experience was like getting a lynx to enjoy a bubble bath. She was militaristic and methodical; sitting around getting her toes painted was akin to getting her teeth pulled. Her extroverted companion, Ty-Lee, had managed to persuade her a few times, though Zuko remembered that Ty-Lee was recently betrothed to some cousin of Lord Tzumoro and had spent some time getting acquainted with her future husband. Zuko could admit that Tzumoro knew how to climb a social ladder.
It felt like hours later when Zuko heard his sister’s voice, followed by Mai’s monotone. The four young women came from the saline pool, draped in silk robes with their hair pulled high on their heads. Ty-Lee was the first to spot him, as chipper as always despite the ticking clock that loomed overhead. There was no need to rush her wedding like Zuko’s had been- her marriage was not a hostage negotiation. She squealed, causing the other three to turn to face him. Azula’s lip twitched.
She slithered over to him, positioning her body so that her face was hidden from the others. “Why did Mother send us here?” She hissed.
Zuko glanced about. “Dad.”
Azula’s features became stony. They had seen the wrath of their father before, his cruelty, his lack of compassion. His willingness and his readiness to not only to break, but to destroy, to crush what he deemed beneath him. If their mother sent them away from the palace, then his wroth was incomparable to past instances. The world Ozai had built was fraying at the seams. Azula huffed. “Well, this just means you should make sure to be a worthy Crown Prince, Zuzu.”
When they were finally allowed to return home, Zuko first noticed the putrid stench of burnt things. It wafted throughout the inner sanctum, having no singular source. Azula walked alongside him after dismissing Mai and Ty Lee. Yue retreated to their shared quarters to retrieve Tui. Zuko met his sister’s indiscernible stare, her dark brows furrowed. She was always quicker to catch on, more perceptive of things unspoken, yet he knew his sister better than most. Despite her lack of emotion, deep within she was as nervous as he. She was calculating, taking note of the Fire Sages that had seemed to multiply in the last months, of scurrying palace staff, and of Mother holding her head low with Lord Tzumoro.
Lord Tzumoro stopped in his tracks upon catching sight of them. He seemed relieved. The Phoenix Queen unlinked their arms. “Prince Zuko, Princess Azula. This is the most fortuitous timing. May the four of us speak in private?” His eyes were a yellow-gray like the scales of the serpent that was the sigil of his house, and normally they were clouded over by the haze of a courier’s feigned disinterest, yet they held the same fatigued repose that lingered in the Phoenix Queen’s. He guided them to his personal office within the inner sanctum, which had been occupied by Lord Takuma for twenty years. Closing the door behind him, the Phoenix King’s chief council let out a breath that he must have been holding since dawn. “Everything is true,” he began without preamble. “The Water Tribe boy, his sister the Avatar, and Iroh’s son. It’s all true.” His face sagged. “The boy has two dragons along with his army. They say his wife is a sorceress. There are unconfirmed rumors that she is carrying his child.”
“I thought he was killed?” Azula interrupted. “Wasn’t it his head that Father burned?”
The man winced. “He had friends in Arakem, just as he has supporters throughout the world. It was a prisoner’s head covered in tar. They smuggled him out and kept him hidden while they built an army. The Queen of Arakem has cast her stone with him. He encountered a scouting force from the Forty-Second Division and…” Tzumoro paused. “One of his dragons slaughtered the entire force. There were no survivors. There were no remains.” He waited for their gasps of horror to dissipate. “In the east Kyoshi, Gaoling, and Omashu stand with the Water Tribes and Taku is sure to follow.” Tzumoro had the sour expression of a man who had just watched his gamble fall apart, a sort of deep set hopelessness spurred on by the pain of being caught off guard. “The Phoenix King wants to meet Iroh’s boy in battle himself. Alone.”
Ursa’s breath hitched. “Tzumoro, you must convince him otherwise! My husband is a warrior in his own right, but he does not command two dragons. In solo combat I have no doubts of his victory, but if Lu-Ten decides to unleash his dragons…” Her voice rose, becoming watery at the edges. “He killed dozens of men in one fell swoop with just one, imagine if he unleashed both!”
“I am trying, Your Grace. Our Lord Ozai is intractable when he deems something as the will of Providence. You know this.” Tzumoro pressed his thumb to the space between his eyes as if to slow his racing thoughts. “I shall redirect him to the best of my ability, but there still remains the matter of the boy. He marches to the Estival Peninsula as we speak. We will call a war council as soon as we are able.”
“The course of action is obvious,” Azula sat on the edge of the table, examining her nails as she spoke, “Why waste our resources meeting him on Earth Kingdom soil? Let him come to us. I say we let him approach the Estival Peninsula and then when his guard is down and he believes himself invincible, we crush his army and end my traitorous uncle’s line once and for all.”
Zuko turned to his sister in horror. “And if his wife is pregnant?”
Azula rolled her eyes. “Do you think she would be the first cow to be herded to slaughter?”
The Crown Prince expected his mother to join in, to at least offer even some reprimand at Azula’s reprehensible suggestion. He found her staring into a world that only she could see, and he knew that her mind was decades in the past when Azulon lay dying and she was sharpening the knife that would be used to kill a toddler in his crib.
He stumbled and caught himself, moving about Tzumoro’s solar. The others paid him no mind. Of them all, he was the only one with a weak heart it seemed. All empires were built by blood and fire, yes, but to murder an unborn babe? To kill a woman for making the mistake of loving the wrong man? Bile rose to his throat. His father had slain his brother. His mother had made a mockery of his father. She had forced him into a marriage with Yue to keep her trapped in the Fire Nation. His father had spent years preparing to kill the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and had designed a ship that carried a weapon that would eradicate the Northern Water Tribe. Was there truly no line they would not cross? He schooled his features. He was the heir of what they had built, and despite his own moral standards and honor, his loyalty was first and foremost to his father. The metal crown upon his head had been quenched with blood.
He could feel Azula’s mocking glare as he left the chamber and Zuko tasted salt in his mouth.
——-
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe (and the Fire Nation) squirmed and whimpered in her sleep. Zuko’s eyes snapped open, his muscles immediately coiling to spring to his feet. Tui slept at his feet, the tip of her tail over her nose. Her ears twitched and the white dog lifted her head. She had finally gotten over her desire to rip him to shreds and to him it seemed that the two of them shared a mutual respect for the sake of Yue. Chuffing through her nose, Tui settled closer to her mistress.
Zuko laid a warm hand on Yue’s shoulder. She jolted awake with a cry of alarm, blue eyes stretched wide with undiluted panic. Zuko shrank back as she back pedaled away from him until her spine was against the headboard. Her chest heaved and she stared at him as though she was a caged animal and he was waving the cattle prod. “I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Yue’s face softened in relief (or perhaps recognition). “I should be the one apologizing, Pri- Zuko.” She pushed the linen sheets away, disturbing Tui. The dog grumbled in protest, leaping onto the ground and stretching. “I have to go to the training courtyard anyway, your sister was adamant that we have a pre-dawn exercise before she brings in her Acolytes. Their training is so brutal, my body aches just from watching them.” She stood and brushed the stray strands of hair away from her forehead. The gentle smile she gave him was the first one that seemed genuine in weeks. “Would you like to join us?”
He smiled back. “It would be my honor.” He winked and he felt as though his friend had once more emerged from her shell. When had he began to consider her to be one of his friends? Long before their marriage, he realized. She had unwittingly become his confidant in the more traditional duties of his role as the heir. They had forged their own peace. There would always be secrets between them- it could not be helped. Try though he might to escape his father’s shadow, Zuko was the heir of the man that had torn her life apart.
The hour before dawn was the coolest. The first rays of the sun were beginning to peak over the rooftops of the palace, illuminating the pagodas and washing the gardens in pale pink-gray light. Firebenders rose with the sun and Zuko found his sister crouched in the center of the cloister, waiting. She wasted no time propelling herself with a jet of blue flame, wordlessly falling into a stance that launched bolts of fire in their direction. Azula was smirking; she was a natural prodigy who never played fair.
Zuko twisted and countered with a wall of his own. After her initial surprise, Yue gathered her bearings and took advantage of Zuko’s defensive gestures, using Azula’s preoccupation to gain crucial ground. It didn’t take long for Azula to change course, bringing up her forearm just as Yue sprang. The length of her arm connected with Yue’s chest, throwing her backwards.
“You should be better than this,” the Fire Nation princess taunted. “You’ve become as stiff and lifeless as Mai. Don’t tell me your marriage to my brother is making you as boring as a wet sock.”
Zuko swept his leg up and down into a full body spiral, creating a scorching tornado that ricocheted towards his sister. Yue danced away and Azula cut Zuko’s offense in half, baring her teeth as she rocketed in his direction. “You must be half asleep,” Zuko called out, “that form was a little sloppy.”
Just as he’d expected, Azula flew into a barely contained rage. The superheated blasts of fire that she kicked and punched out in his direction were aggressive, punctuated by her vitriolic insults that would have made their mother faint. Zuko rolled and dodged, sweat forming on his brow. Maybe this was a mistake. Azula had dug her feet in the ground, twisting at the waist as her animalistic glare followed his every move. “Is this sloppy, Zuzu? ” She snapped.
Skidding against the pillar, Zuko pushed himself to his feet as his sister’s countenance shifted into one of unbroken concentration, each movement precise and calculated. He could hear the crackle of energy before he saw it, could feel the hairs on his arms raising. White lightning appeared at her fingertips as she guided the volatile energy around and through her body, an all too familiar smirk of cruelty appearing on her lips. He braced himself with his own arm extended, stretching the other out behind him. The fulgurant bolt came towards him. Slowing his breath, the Prince emptied his mind as his body jolted where the lightning kissed his skin. In through the east, through the core, to the west. His fingers throbbed. It passed through him. Every hair was on end as he guided the lightning upwards to the rising sun, watching as it crackled and shattered the dawn in an earth-shaking clap of thunder.
Behind him Zuko heard a gasp as Yue hit the ground breathlessly, slammed onto the packed earth by Azula when the white haired princess tried to attack from behind. The younger princess glowered at both of them, top lip curled. Yue shied away, her eyes glazing over with that same panic that Zuko had seen when they had awoken. Azula took note. “What is wrong with you?” She snapped abrasively as Yue struggled to her feet. “You look like a scared sparrowkeet.”
Yue brushed off the grit and sand. In that moment she looked very much like a lost antelopuppy.
“Leave her alone, Azula.” Zuko admonished. “Don’t you have your little playdate and tea party to get ready for?”
Azula pulled her hair free from its topknot. “I directed them to not arrive until after our morning meal. Besides, today is a history lesson on Ichiko’s methods of warfare. She was quite the genius.” There were times when Zuko forgot how young his sister looked and sounded. She was fifteen, the same age as the Avatar, and despite her cold eyes, Zuko knew that she secretly enjoyed writing her own disjointed stiff poetry in imitation of her favorite ancestor. She had beat him savagely when he had found her crumbled drafts. “I have said this many times before. If it were not against the laws of the gods to kill you, I would have wrung your neck or strangled you with a pillow.”
“I love you too, sister.” Zuko and Yue trailed behind her as she trotted back to her own personal quarters. Azula tsk’ed in response.
Yue went straight to the bathing room where Azula had her showering spout, which Zuko knew to be her custom after their exercise circuits. He sat at the Phoenix Princess’s desk, fiddling through her notes and scrolls. He had the burden of keeping all of his files about the Project hidden while Azula was able to speak freely to her companions. He read through the vigorous training regimen she had designed.
Her manicured hand slammed down in front of him. Zuko shot her a blistering stare. “What is wrong with her?” Azula’s voice was barely loud enough to register, though no less sharp. “She’s been blundering around like a newborn elephant moose. She gave the excuse of ‘ still adjusting’. Ridiculous. Even a spoiled little fish like her can get used to sharing a room. I shared one with you when we were little. You weren’t that difficult to get along with aside from your insufferable collection of books and swords.” She ignored Zuko’s protest. “I have my suspicions, of course, as much as I would rather not be right in this case. It’s a surprise that Mother hasn’t noticed. ” Azula sat across from him, watching the door of the bathing room like a leopon in wait for its prey.
“You forget I was put in this situation also,” Zuko lamented as the door of the bathing room slid open. “Azula, I-!”
Azula pounced, eyes ablaze and mouth twisted in a barbarous snarl. Before Zuko could react, she had ripped Yue’s towel away. Yue shrieked and Zuko shouted as he rose from the table, nearly knocking it over. He reached out to grab Yue’s forearm. The older princess covered her bare body, but not before Zuko caught sight of the purpling bruises that stained parts of her brown skin. They were in places that could have been easily overlooked when they visited the spa if she moved deliberately. They were in patterns that could not be brushed away as clumsiness. Clumsiness did not leave finger shaped bruises between one’s thighs. He shrank back, clutching his hand to his chest as if she had wounded him.
The room held its breath.
“Who was it? I knew it.” Azula demanded, tossing the damp towel back at the older girl. Yue cowered under the weight of her scrutiny.
Zuko swayed on his feet.
The younger princess seethed. “ Who did it? Who was the bastard that touched a member of the royal family? If it was a servant then I’ll see to it that they are all sent to the noose. A firebender, obviously. Was it one of the guards?” Her eyes were chips of amber flint as she captured Zuko in the net of her eyesight as well. “I’ll tell Mother,” she threatened. She rounded on Yue and the older girl shrank back. Zuko reached out, only for Azula to slap his hand away. “ Who ? Was it Tzumoro? One of the Fire Sages? A council member?”
Zuko could see her calculating and eliminating potential culprits in her mind, plotting timelines, ruling out non-firebenders and those with limited access to the inner palace keep. He was doing the same, thoughts moving in a frenzy through his mind, incessant white noise like a beehive between his ears. As one they froze, mutually reaching the same horrifying conclusion.
Azula turned to stone. “My father.”
Yue choked on a sob.
Feeling his head grow light, Zuko plopped into the chair and pulled at his hair. No no no no no. His stomach churned and heaved. A sense of numbness came over him. When he looked at his sister he saw that a fleeting glimpse of horror had crossed her face, consequently followed by what could pass as a hauntingly familiar sadness that was reflected in his own. Catching his eye, she made a show of clearing her throat.
Yue had shrugged on the robe that Azula had tossed at her, head ducked in a shame that she did not deserve.
“Well. It wouldn’t be the first time. There are a few serving girls that have caught his eye over the years, but Mother or Takuma always sent them away with a purse and vow of secrecy. Right, Zuko?” It was something they knew all too well. Zuko had been twelve when his mother found out about the first girl. It was the only time he had seen his parents fight. His mother had accepted the unfortunate discovery with dejected resignation and that was the first time that the chilly haze had settled over her features, what he could only describe as her as locking herself in her own mind to avoid the world outside. Azula stood motionless. “After the wedding of course. My father’s sense of honor depends on what’s most convenient.”
“I’m sorry!” Yue collapsed into another bout of tears. Zuko moved to comfort her only to stop in his tracks. He looked like his father. He looked like Ozai. No wonder she had been avoiding him.
In a rare instance of gentleness, Azula lifted the princess of the Northern Water Tribe by her elbow. Her fingernails brushed over her jaw. “Why are you apologizing? There was nothing you could have done. Fix your face. You look pathetic.”
A bone deep aggrieved anger overcame him. Zuko stood. His father’s twisted sense of honor had ruined his own. Was he not supposed to protect his wife? It didn’t matter that their union was a scantily shaded attempt to keep the Northern Water Tribe in line. The gods saw them as married.
He knew where his father would be.
“Where are you going?” Azula demanded as he stormed out of the room. “Zuko, where are you going?” Her nails bit into the flesh of his arm. “Zuko. Where are you going?”
He shrugged her hand away and let the doors slam shut in his wake. He could hear the rising panic in Yue’s voice and the slower panic in his sister’s. Closing his mind, Zuko barreled to the audience chamber where he knew his father would be. He barged past the servants and staff. “Prince Zuko?” They called out in confusion. “Prince Zuko?”
Prince Zuko, Prince Zuko stupid Prince Zuko. Clueless Zuko. How could you not even protect one of your friends Stupid Zuko, your father violated your wife. Stupid stupid Zuko.
He wanted to vomit.
One of his father’s secondary advisors stood at the double doors of the throne room. He looked up in surprise at the Crown Prince. “Prince Zuko, I may be mistaken but your father only called for his council to assemble at this moment. Your invitation was extended to the meeting that is to take place this afterno-” he broke off as Zuko shoved him out of the way and kicked open one side of the heavy lacquered door.
The men were seated at the long table that had been assembled in front of the dais. A map of the western Earth Kingdoms was spread across, kept in place by wooden figures. Two dozen eyes flickered up at his entrance. The generals and admirals fell into whispers. Zuko strode into the center of the room, glowering at the wall of golden flames that framed the Phoenix King’s silhouette. He could not see his father’s face but he could feel the weight of his intrigued gaze.
“Father.”
The flame curtain dropped. Ozai was chiseled from stone, the planes of his face swathed in shadow. One brow was raised in contempt. For what seemed like an eternity he did not speak. Zuko did not blink. At last his father adjusted his shoulders. “Is there a reason why you lacked the respect and decorum that is expected of your position?”
Zuko exhaled. “Yes.” He answered. “There is.”
The Phoenix King watched on.
He was aware that he was painfully out of place. The men of the war council were decked out in armor and finery. His father was almost godlike seated upon the dais, sitting high and looking low. Zuko wore his clothes from their training bout and he had sloppily taken the time to sweep his black locks up into a knot. What did they see when they saw him? A fool for what he was about to do? It’s what any honorable man would do. Zuko pointed a finger in his father’s direction. “Phoenix King Ozai. I, Prince Zuko, challenge you to an Agni Kai.”
Exclamations of surprise reverberated on the walls of the audience chamber. The confusion was palpable. Ozai remained unflappable, smug amusement on his lips. “This is about the Water Tribe girl,” he chuckled. “How chivalrous of you.” The man stood until he was towering over the other souls in the room. His words were for Zuko alone. “Your pathetic inveterate sense of propriety and honor has always been amusing. If only I could have molded you into a more worthy heir.” He bared his teeth in what could have been a smile were it not for the antagonistic glint in his eye. “If it is an Agni Kai you want, then it is an Agni Kai you shall have.”
“No!”
The doors were thrown open. The Phoenix Queen stumbled over her skirts as she crossed the distance between the entrance and the throne. As the doors closed in her wake Zuko caught a glimpse of Azula’s crown. Ursa was panting as she pushed Zuko aside, scrambling up the steps to the throne. She threw herself at her husband’s feet, hugging his legs and looking up at him with eyes streaming. “My lord, my love, my morning star, please! ” Ursa wailed as she pulled on Ozai’s hand. “ Please , my love, Zuko is young. Zuko is your son.”
“And Yue is my wife!” The words erupted from his throat.
Ursa jolted as if lightning had coursed through her. Zuko could see his mother searching his father’s features, her own rippling through a cascade of emotions that flowed from one into the next. Tears of disbelief drowned her words. She didn’t know , Zuko realized. She didn’t know. Ozai was still. “Ozai…” she had forgotten all etiquette, all of the strict sense of propriety that she had worked so hard to instill in her children, and Zuko’s heart twisted to see his mother wounded so deeply. “Is this true?”
The Phoenix King did not reply. He nudged her aside with his foot and Ursa fell away in a catatonic heap, her eyes glassed over. “Prepare yourself for tomorrow’s zenith. Pray that the gods are merciful.” “I am not” went unspoken.
Zuko managed a stiff nod, striding from the flummoxed audience room with as much courage as he could muster.
Azula and Yue fell upon him. His sister’s talons pierced his skin. “You impulsive, reckless, idiot!”
“Zuko, you can’t!” Yue’s voice faltered as she chimed in. “Please. You can’t!.”
Extending his arms, Zuko pulled Yue towards him by her upper arms. “Yue, I have to do this. I failed to protect you. I can’t make that mistake again. I won’t make that mistake again.” Her ocean eyes met his sunrise ones and Zuko knew that she was seeing him for the first time, not the remorseless gaze of his father. He turned to Azula, letting his hand fall to grasp Yue’s. He gave it a squeeze. “I’m your brother. Can you do this one thing for me, once in your life?”
Azula’s lips were a firm line as she nodded. “Yes,” she answered and he was reminded of the time they were children, of the promises they had whispered to each other in the dead of night. “Yes.”
They crowded in Zuko’s bedroom. Yue sat on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, absentmindedly staring at the wall. Azula sat across from her and Zuko stood, pacing warily. The energy of the palace had shifted. The unease about the Traitorous Iroh’s son had been redirected to the Agni Kai that was to take place. Father against son. Child against man. Man against god.
“I don’t want the gruesome details. And of course before you start your blubbering, none of this is your fault. But what did my father say? Before he…” Azula gestured vaguely. “Granted you’re just like the ones he prefers to go after, but why you? ”
Yue winced and Zuko saw her retreat into herself. “I…don’t know. He never-I never…Because he sees me as the North, and if he can’t destroy the Tribe then he can…” she trailed off. She was almost clinical, as if she was detached from herself. “And some time before the wedding, I overheard him talking to Tzumoro and a couple of the Fire Sages. I couldn’t piece it together but he wants to access the spiritual portals at either the North or South Pole during an eclipse to…I don’t know! He caught me eavesdropping and threatened to kill me, but he didn’t.” Her breath was ragged. “He wants to keep me alive to use my blood. And to break my Tribe.”
Azula inhaled. “Sounds like Father. He grows angry and suddenly has a longing to break whoever happens to be in front of him,” she scoffed, “if he can’t get what he wants with the Water Tribes then he’ll get what he wants from you.” The princess lifted a perfect brow. “And Mother had - has- no clue.”
None of that mattered, Zuko wanted to say. Understanding Ozai’s motives would not change the brutality he had inflicted upon Yue. Yue was the first to sleep, the skin around her eyes puckered and sagging from grief and exhaustion. Azula watched her keenly before turning back to her brother.
“He’s our father.” She said quietly.
Zuko clenched his teeth. “She’s my wife.”
“Our hostage, Zuko, lest you’ve forgotten. We might’ve fooled the court in believing this sham but don’t pretend this is something it is not. Did you forget the assignment that you were given? If you go through with this fiasco, Father will kill you.” Azula was equally vehement. “Tomorrow you might die. And for what? Honor? Do you think our father cares about that, you idiot? Honor means nothing when you are invincible.”
“Father doesn’t have a dragon,” Zuko reminded her. “Will you keep your promise?”
Azula rolled her eyes. “I said yes, dum-dum. Have I ever lied to you?”
Zuko did not sleep. He remained in the chair at the table long after Azula had finally resigned herself to rest and wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. Just before sunrise he rose and began to organize his bedroom with fastidious resolve, rearranging his swords and setting his books in a neat pile. Ironically he had been reading a historical account on a Fire Nation Princess by the name of Kyota who had challenged her mother for the throne. This isn’t about a throne. It’s about right and wrong. Even if Yue hadn’t been his wife then he would have still defended her honor. He had let the other girls down. I was a child. Now he was a man grown.
Tui eyed him curiously. Zuko returned the dog’s stare. She leapt to her feet, ears drawn back and wagging her tail. He reached down to rub between her ears. “At least I have your support,” he whispered.
“Thank you.” Yue’s voice startled him. “I still feel as though…as though it was someone else. As though my body was there, but I was not.” She had risen from the bed, rubbing her arms to deter the imaginary chill. “But every time I turned, I saw your father’s eyes and your face became his.” Her voice broke and then hardened, becoming an impenetrable glacier that reminded Zuko of the Yue of Before. She was gone from him then, frozen and then steeled over. She was the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Not Yue. “Thank you.”
He could do little else but nod.
She softened for a moment and reached for his hand. “Every time I look at you, I see his face. But…I don’t…” He could see her eyes welling with tears. Whatever she had intended to say went unspoken. Zuko allowed himself to touch her cheek, searching her eyes. Yue’s jaw tightened. “I want to see you as Zuko. Not as the shadow of a monster.”
I have his face, Zuko thought. You will always see him when you look at me . He would become a monster in her eyes if she ever discovered his involvement in the project. He might not violate her body, but his crime was just as heinous.
He was brought back to reality by the pressure of her lips against his own, the sudden thawing warmth of her body as she drew closer. Zuko jolted in surprise, holding onto her shoulders to put space in between them. “What are you doing?!”
Yue was almost frantic, her eyes darting from one place to another with frenetic intensity. Zuko was aware of the warmth spreading to his cheeks and building in his chest. “I want to see you as Zuko,” she repeated as she tugged on his hand. In the pre-dawn light her movements became liquid and with embarrassing delay Zuko realized that she was undressing. “And…I want to reclaim something that was stolen from me,” her voice quavered, “do you understand?”
I think I do. Zuko shook his head. “No, Yue, I can’t. I wouldn’t feel- I don’t-” he stopped to reorganize his trail of thought. “I don’t want to hurt you.” The whole exchange felt painfully misguided, and he thought that surely there could be a better option. In spite of his mental protests, he was acutely aware of how pretty she was and inwardly cursed the fact that he was indeed a young man.
The laugh she let out was acidic. “You won’t,” she replied, “Zuko, this is the opposite of hurting me.”
It was, he knew. So much had been taken from her. It was perhaps her only true way of reclaiming what had been stolen. He could not truly understand what she had suffered, nor would he ever, but out of some sort of twisted repentance he felt it only right to oblige her. He shrugged out of his tunic, mind still in a frenzy, and stumbled as she kissed him with less desperation. Her lips were soft. He responded in turn, feeling her relax against him and Zuko allowed himself to guide her back to the bed. She was trembling. “You don’t have to do this,” he began and she shushed him. She pulled on his wrist and tugged on him until he was hovering above her. Zuko looked down into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
He could see her blinking away the fear, shoving down whatever nightmares that were bubbling to the surface. Her chest heaved as if she was struggling to breathe, as if she was trying to save herself from drowning. Just as quickly she recomposed herself and nodded resolutely. Zuko brushed her hair to the side. “I’m sure.” More assertive this time: “I’m sure.”
He only touched her when and where she consented, moving his calloused fingers over the smooth skin of her shoulders and then her ribs and then her thighs when she drew her legs up. There she began to whimper with anxiety and Zuko shied away until she invited him to come closer. The kisses he offered were gentle. Yue did not look away, brown skin flushed, her hands reaching for his cheeks and arms and hands, tracing and memorizing every part of him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her teeth sinking into the skin of his shoulder and Zuko clenched his jaw in a futile attempt to control his breathing. She whispered his name, quietly and then louder. Her name became a soft mantra on his lips.
Skin damp with sweat, Zuko covered his face with the pillow. He could feel her staring at him. Spirits, I hope I didn’t make a mistake by giving in to this. “I have to win the Agni Kai now,” he jested and hoped the joke didn’t fall flat.
Yue laughed quietly before sobering. Zuko peeked at her. She laid supine with her fingers laced together. Zuko pried them apart and replaced them with his own. Yue squeezed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Zuko tossed the pillow aside and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Stop saying that,” he said as he rose to his feet.
She was looking away when he re-dressed. She did not turn to face him. Zuko set his crown upon his head and went to face the dawn.
As high noon approached, Zuko took a light breakfast in solitude. He bathed four times as was the custom for each cardinal direction and lit the candles to regulate his breathing. He combed his hair into a high topknot and donned the ceremonial garb. It consisted of a red and yellow cape that would be thrown over his shoulders to represent the protection of the god Agni’s all encompassing fire. He dressed in a brown and red vest and pants, slipping his feet into the gold inlaid sandals that a servant had presented to him with shaking hands.
The arena of the Agni Kai was a long mall. It was set between two immense structures. The first was the Temple of the Rising Sun, an indoor shrine that could only be entered by the royal family and the chief Fire Sage. The other was an administrative building where the results of the battles were to be scrutinized and then finalized. Some duels were clear victories yet others in the past had resulted in stalemates that were judged by a neutral council. Zuko was fully aware that no such council existed, at least not in his lifetime. His father had destroyed all dissent in the court.
Already the space was filling with dozens of people. Noblemen and their wives and children. They bore somber expressions and spoke quietly. From the most advantageous post stood Azula. She had dressed in full regalia, laced into polished armor and sporting her headpiece. At her side was Yue dressed as a Fire Nation Princess, bearing the coronet that Lord Tzumoro had gifted her, and the symbolism was not lost on Zuko. She was a Fire Nationer by the rules of their culture.
The Phoenix Queen was notably absent.
The sun beamed down on Zuko’s brow as he took his place on one side of the arena. He turned his back to the ground and knelt as the Fire Sage anointed his crown and heart chakras with a fragrant oil. “May the god Agni shine his favor upon you. May your fire burn bright.” The graybeard pressed his thumb against Zuko’s third eye. “Pray with your whole heart.”
Zuko bowed his head. Agni, give me guidance. Give me the strength to maintain my honor. If he died, then Azula would become their father’s heir. His father’s plans would continue. Yue would be forever in danger. The world would be forever in danger.
A gong was struck. The noise resonated through Zuko’s bones. The chief Fire Sage began the traditional group prayer that took place before every Agni Kai, invoking fairness and fearlessness. Zuko moved his lips as he silently followed the oration. He closed his eyes as the crowd descended into silence and waited for the Sage’s command.
Zuko turned, shrugged off the cape, and the world stood still.
The Phoenix King stood facing him, contempt rolling off of him in waves. Zuko slid into a stance.
Like Azula, Ozai struck first. He swung his leg and sent a jet of fire in Zuko’s direction, using the momentum to pivot into another form. Zuko dodged and mirrored his father with a counterattack of his own. He had spent his childhood watching his father firebend and had trained alongside Azula. Both of them could hold their own even if they could never best him. Zuko was purely reliant on luck.
A rapid succession of fire balls came at him. Zuko lifted a wall of defense, dancing back a step. He lashed out and swung his arm in a right hook, taking advantage of the distance that remained between them. His blows arced too high, licking at the roof of the administrative building. One fireball grazed his father’s arm. He dropped, sweeping his foot to send a wave at his father’s feet.
No longer amused, Ozai flew across the dueling ground with his arm outstretched, preceded by a jet of fire. He moved with predatory, serpentine, speed. He had been toying with Zuko like a cat played with its prey. He smirked as he bent a wall over fire around his son, falling into a double handed propulsion that sent Zuko backpedaling.
Zuko staggered, pulling a flame shield over his body as the Phoenix King’s white tinged bending consumed the air around him. He tunneled free, kicking his foot to launch himself skyward. He rose above his father’s head and came back down. Zuko braced himself as he hit the ground, inhaling the smoke of his own bending.
Ozai spun in place, crouching low and slamming his fist into the ground. Zuko reacted too slowly. The heat washed over the soles of his feet. He cried out as the skin blistered but refused to fall. If I fall then I am dead.
The Phoenix King forced him back with a barrage of blows that seemed to never end. Through the haze Zuko could see his outline advancing towards him, closer and closer still. He winced with each step. Ozai brought both hands in front of him, casting a superheated bolt that left Zuko scrambling.
“For seventeen years I have tried to mold you in an heir worthy of my legacy. For seventeen years I have raised you to see beyond what lies in front of you, to hunger for ambition. I have raised you to be a conqueror.” Ozai growled. “The weak link of our family died with my brother. And now you defy me?”
Zuko cut an opening. “You know what you did! And Mother…”
His father lashed out at him wordlessly. Zuko skirted along the perimeter of the arena, never allowing his back to turn. All eyes were on him. “I’m defending Yue’s honor after you trampled on my mother’s.” He watched a spark of rage glimmer in Ozai’s eye. Zuko glanced up at the awning of the Temple of the Rising Sun and then back at the Phoenix King. Holding his breath, Zuko catapulted onto the roof with the aid of his bending.
The telltale crackle of lightning caused Zuko’s heart to plummet to his gut. His father had gone silent as his arms worked in circles, generating a bolt of lightning so bright that it cast shadows under the noontime sky. It leapt and danced around like a white dragon and absentmindedly Zuko wondered if his cousin knew the secret of lightning bending as well. There was no time to redirect it. He laid flat against the roof as the lightning shot past him, bursting with a crack of thunder. Another and then a third followed in rapid succession. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut.
The roof groaned as the Phoenix King landed before him. He delivered a swift kick to Zuko’s abdomen that caused him to roll over the lip of the awning. He hit the ground hard and moaned. Through the blur of pain and the sea of pale faces he saw Yue. Her blue eyes glistened, her lips parted to call out his name. Azula, lest she forfeit her own life, remained stoic. She lifted her fist to spur him on.
Get up get up get up.
Get up get up get up!
Zuko rolled just as Ozai’s strike almost rang true. Before he could slide out of reach he felt his father’s bare foot pin his leg into place. Ozai flipped him over onto his back and set his foot on Zuko’s bare chest.
I am going to die.
They held each other captive with their stare. Ozai’s piercing golden eyes narrowed. “Look at you, on the ground in defeat. Pathetic.” He pressed his heel down harder. “You defy me for a girl. A girl that if I so desired,I could take whenever I chose. I could bend her over right now, in front of you and all the rest, and make you watch. Everything in the Fire Nation is mine, Prince Zuko. Everything in the world will be mine.” With one hand he hauled Zuko upright until he was kneeling. “The laws of mankind have always been inconsequential to me. This is a world for gods. And I will become one.” Zuko shivered. Sweat formed on his brow, heavy beads that ran like tears.
Yue was right. His father was planning to open the spirit portals to harness the power of the spirit-gods in order to somehow transcend mortality. His ambitions went further than petty political squabbles.
Fire sparked to life in his father’s palm. It glowed white-hot, brighter than anything Zuko had ever seen him conjure before. Its heat was overwhelming. Staring up at his father, Zuko thought that he looked like a god already. His hair hung about his shoulders. Through it all he had not broken a sweat. “If your life was not instrumental to my plans to create a new Harmonic Convergence, I would kill you right this minute.” The ball grew larger and hotter still, as if it was the sun in miniature. He lowered his hand to hover over Zuko’s cheek, angled just above his eye. “You have always been my least favorite child.”
Zuko began to scream.
“Father, Father please, Father please!” He was not sure if it was the heat or the pain that he felt first, or if it was both. They came together in an excruciating flash of light that pierced through his eyesight, cutting into his skin. Still he screamed. The flesh blistered and bled, puckered and melded into itself. Zuko choked on his own bile as his screams became sobs and then became screams again. The pain coursed over and through him, electrifying every hair, seeping into every pore and bone and nerve, morphing into an ache that burned burned burned. Until all he knew was pain. Until his voice faded. Until the world became muted and black.
Until he felt no pain at all.
Chapter 49: No World for Kings
Notes:
49 and 50 run concurrently with each other, the end won’t make a lick of sense otherwise
Chapter Text
Katara
“You should be lucky there’s only one swamp in Banka-Kadi, or else you’d be trudging through the mud with a map and disappointment.” Tsephel crossed her arms in front of her chest. “On the downside, the only swamp in Banka-Kadi happens to be the biggest one on this side of the hemisphere! And you say we have to deal with these vampire bat-mosquitos so you can go talk to a tree?”
Katara sighed. “I am not going to talk to a tree!” Behind her Jet chuckled at their banter. They had left Mo-Pet and the outpost behind, moving deeper into the forested bowels of Banka-Kadi where the terrain was mostly untouched wetlands and marsh. Crooked cypress trees lined their path and they passed long hours under the shadow of the dense tree canopy. “But this is where the Avatar Spirit is telling me to go.” She wasn’t sure why exactly, but her feet had turned west and the incessant pull against her chi would not be eased. Katara swept her hair out of her face. Maybe she should cut it. The weight of the dense curls and the humid air of the western half of Banka-Kadi offered her respite. Tsephel’s coarse curls and coils were fairing no better. “Maybe I’ll get a clue on how to be reunited with Sokka.” Though she knew her brother was doing well, she longed to see him all the same. A Polar Bear Dog alone in the world was a terrible thing. Polar Bear Dogs thrived in a pack. It was a tenet of their childhood- her father had made them swear before the moon and ocean that they would never distance themselves from each other. They were to lead the Tribe together. She now knew that their father had intended for the Avatar and the Chief to maintain a rapport, in addition to curtailing any future splintering in later generations that might result in civil conflict. “Besides, you and my brother would have a blast.” At her own expense, of course. Putting two self-assured self-proclaimed geniuses in the same room was just asking for a headache.
“He sounds like my kindred spirit,” the airbender agreed. “How do your Tribal politics work anyway? Who’s running the Tribe while the both of you are gone?”
“My grandmother and the other elders, I presume. My father’s bloodsworn warriors.” Katara felt a lump form in her throat. Did IcePoint even look like her IcePoint anymore? Were there any familiar faces left? She knew that Bato and a number of her father’s men had dragged Sokka and his own bloodsworn out of the hall just as chaos erupted. Had all of them survived the journey after they crossed the Southern Sea? “The elders all speak for the clans.” At Jet and Tsephel’s confusion, Katara sighed. She had always taken the societal structure of her homeland as a given. It was something that everyone knew. “A long time ago, thousands of years ago, when our people migrated south, everyone was broken up into clans led by warriors. My clan’s ancestor is Nanook. Anyway, within each clan there are different families.” Typically the families would swear allegiance to the clan leader. Most of the bloodsworn warriors stemmed from these off-shoots. There were other descendants of Nanook who were the distant cousins of the Polar Bear Dogs, but all the clans of the South Pole were fiercely loyal to the Polar Bear Dogs whose lineage stemmed from Nanook’s only son. “The designated clan elder lives in the capital and serves as one of the Chief’s councilmen along with the Chief’s siblings.”
Tsephel made a sound of understanding. The Air Nomads had a different familial structure. There were no clans and being raised with a mother and father and siblings was unheard of. They were nurtured by all adults of their culture. Each nun was their mother. Each monk was their father. “So your children would serve as your brother’s children’s council?”
“Or they would inherit the title if Sokka never had children of his own, yes.” Katara nodded. It felt strange to discuss these things that she had always known to be true.
“Sounds fancy,” Jet added. She had whispered to him tales of her childhood, painting IcePoint from the keep to the kennels. In turn he had revealed his own early years to her. He had grown up in Mo-Pet, the illegitimate child of a Banka-Kadian nobleman and a seamstress. Though his father never acknowledged him publicly, his youth had been funded by surreptitious mailings of clothing and money and no one said aloud that the shaggy-haired boy was the spitting image of one of Mo-Pet’s politicians. His mother and clandestine father passed away within a year of each other, leaving him to fend for himself where he eventually formed a rag-tag family of run-aways and orphans who lived in the trees. He swatted at a persistent mosquito. “I’d rather have a frozen continent over these blood-sucking bastards any day.”
Dache bleated her agreeance.
Katara looked up at the gray sky through the trees. It had finally stopped raining after two days of non-stop downpour. Never had Katara thought that she would get tired of the water. Her arms had grown stiff from bending a dome over their heads and Tsephel had been fatigued when it was her turn to blow the rain away from them with her airbending. It had left the air even more humid than before. She sidestepped a puddle of mud that threatened to suck her foot deeper, maneuvering Lusa around it.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Tsephel complained.
“Thanks,” Katara deadpanned, “I can sleep in peace now.”
Their sleep was anything but peaceful, huddled between a firepit and Dache and Lusa to protect them from the elements. Katara dreamt of IcePoint, though in a way it felt foreign. The citadel was not as large nor as warm, the ice garden was not where it was supposed to be. Her boots crunched over the snow as she meandered through the halls. Furs and tapestries hung on the walls, depicting triumphant scenes of warriors conquering the monsters of the South Pole whether they were human or beast. She realized this was not her IcePoint. She looked down at her hands and arms. They were the veined hands of a young man. She reached up to feel at her face, discovering that she sported a burgeoning goatee. Two polar dogs (Kissimi and Koda, her mind knew, her beloved pets) trotted at her heels. She passed servants and guardsmen who all bowed in respect to her. She turned at the sound of running feet and turned just as two young children, a boy and a girl, flew into her arms. “Nuka!” They cried in unison, their cherubic faces alight with joy. “Nuka, you’re home!” She knew these children to be her siblings, the five year old twins Eskaa and Tuluqa, and her heart sang with love. She swung them around and her dogs leapt up to lick at the little ones. Koda was notably more gentle. Kissimi was larger, wilder, fiercer than her brother, and her eyes were two different colors, and she loved Eskaa and Tuluqa as if she had whelped them herself. Sometimes the dog’s thoughts echoed in her (his, in this life she was a boy) mind. “Are you home forever now?” Eskaa asked, pulling at the hem of his parka. “You said you were going to teach Tuluqa and I archery when you got back!”
“And check out my waterbending!” Tuluqa chimed in, bending a sphere out of the water canteen strapped to her waist. “I’m going to be as good as you.”
Eskaa affectionately pushed his sister. “Nuka is the Avatar, you’ll never be as good as him.”
Katara, who was Nuka in this life, smiled and ruffled Tuluqa’s disheveled curls and tugged on the loose strands of hair framing Eskaa’s face. “I’m not back forever, I’m afraid. But let me meet with Father, and then we will play. I promise?” She pried the twins away from her legs, continuing down the corridor.
She entered a solar.
At the desk sat a tall and powerful man with a jaw and eyes that Katara recognized in her own father. He looked up at the intrusion, his face shifting into a weary smile. “Nuka, son.” He rose and embraced his son. “You’ve come home. How were your travels?”
Katara’s vision shifted until she was outside of the young man’s body, once more a passive observer. He was slender like Sokka, and his hair was twisted into carefully maintained locs adorned with bone beads, though the sides were shaven. His eyes were the same shape, though they leaned to a darker almost brown-ish blue. “Tiresome,” he sat at his father’s desk. “Who knew being the Avatar is basically running around making sure humans don’t kill each other? I mastered all four elements just to be a glorified babysitter. The Queen of Banka-Kadi hates the King of Laogai, Garsai wants to fight Arakem…give it a break!” He flung up his hands. “Why can’t everyone get along?”
“When you find out, let me know.” His father reached down to pat Koda between the ears. “You know of the eclipse,” he said without preamble as he met his son’s eye. “And we need you here.”
Nuka looked away. “The world needs me,” he sighed with a thousand weary voices. “When the eclipse comes and the gates of the Seat of the Demiurge open…what am I supposed to do, Dad? The Air Monks and the Fire Sages are all telling me the same thing and I don’t know what I'm supposed to do!” Kissimi whimpered. “How am I supposed to protect an entire spiritual portal?!”
Nuka’s father shook his head. “Ask the Avatar Spirit to give you the answers.”
“But I don’t-”
Katara was ripped away from the scene, falling into the galaxial darkness of the realm between mortal and immortal, to the place that her mind took her whenever she left her body. The universe stretched out before her, unfathomably vast. She was cold, impossibly cold, and the entire world around her was swathed in a lonely gray. The colossal, translucent, spiritual version of herself was nowhere to be found. She was floating upon a star. Katara looked down.
Beneath her feet was a continent covered in ice and snow and forests and mountains. It was not her South Pole, she realized, whose landscape she knew as well as she knew her name. The North Pole, the home of the Northern Water Tribe and all its immaculate, refined glory. She could see the cities of the North Pole. The capitol was by far the largest, dwarfing all of the other civilizations. It twinkled like a polished gemstone. The Palace of the Koi Fish rose high with its spires and domes and colored glass, almost a city of its own. It was not rustic and rugged like IcePoint. The canals snaked throughout the city, connecting at bridges and nature parks.
She plunged down. Suddenly she was hovering over a forest encased in perpetual shadow, and even from above, in this unknown place she felt inherently unwelcomed. It was a feeling that buried itself deep under her skin, one that the blood of her ancestors sang of, and that all of her forefathers knew to be true. This place, wherever it was, did not like mankind. It never had and never would. They did not belong .
When she awoke, her limbs were sore and her mouth dry and sour. She had awoken in the pale hours just before dawn, when the world was quiet and still, when even her thoughts seemed too loud. Jet and Tsephel were still asleep, pressed against Dache’s flank. Lusa was awake also, her ears pricked, a question in her eyes. She had uncurled herself and raised to sit on her haunches. Katara sat up, following the direction of the leopard caribou’s ears, training her own to hear the faintest sound.
There it was. A rustling sound of leaves and the squelch of human feet approaching cautiously. Lusa bared her teeth. The person, whoever it was, was cautious but clumsy, stumbling over unexpected mud puddles and overgrown roots. Lusa stood, dipping her powerful body in a hunter’s crouch and lowering her antlers. Her cervid tail twitched. She crept forward, beginning to growl low in her throat as the intruder grew closer still. Katara prepared to pull the water to her.
Lusa threw herself forward, fangs bared. She crashed through the trees with a roar, followed by a scream of fear and surprise. Katara could hear her beloved leopard caribou shaking her head vigorously, followed by the sound of her antlers connecting with the bole of a tree. Katara scrambled to her feet, leaping over the sooty remains of the firepit and followed her mount. Branches scraped her cheeks and she tripped over rocks and mud, careening into the clearing where she saw Lusa with her head lowered, her antlers pinning the stalker in place against the trunk of a tree. He was wriggling frantically, trying to dislodge himself only for Lusa to dig her paws into the ground for further leverage. Katara caught sight of dark red Fire Nation armor and a face that seemed vaguely familiar. She skidded to a halt beside Lusa, just beside her hind legs. A petrified pale face gaped back at her over Lusa’s antlers. Recognition sparked in Katara’s mind. The young Fire Nation commander. His name? His name? Rojhan. She forged a dagger of ice. “Why are you here?” She demanded, conjuring as much venom in her voice as she could muster. “Why are you following us?”
Rojhan sagged against the tree. “I sent the others back on their way to the Fire Nation,” he rasped, “after you flooded our base.” Katara wrinkled her nose. “I-I-I don’t know why, I just…” Lusa growled and he rushed on. “I couldn’t go back to the Fire Nation.” His voice rattled and yet still he went on. “Seeing you, seeing the Avatar , made me realize that what’s happening in the world isn’t something I want to be a part of.” Without his helm he did not look so imposing and Katara saw how truly young he was, no more than twenty years old. Maybe even the same age as Jet, who had eighteen years to his name. Up close he might even pass as handsome for Fire Nation standards, with a keen long face and feathery black hair. He looked past her shoulder and Katara chanced a glance back to see Tsephel and Jet. “Please, Avatar, look in my eyes and know I have a true heart.”
“I don’t buy it,” Jet growled. “Katara, get away from him.”
Tsephel had withdrawn her dagger from her robes, a vicious darkness washing over her countenance as she took a menacing step forward. “Just a few weeks ago, you sent your soldiers to raid my Temple. And you’re not the only one. Do you really think I buy your theatrics? Don’t confuse pacifist with idiot, you psycho. For generations you firebenders have harassed my people, and suddenly you have a change of heart? When you just tried to kill us?!”
Katara raised a hand, taking a step closer to peer into the young man’s eyes. Rojhan stared back at her, held in place by Lusa’s antlers. He’s a part of the future, just like we are. And if we’re going to save mankind then we have to convince the spirit-gods that we’re worthy of living. That we can have peace amongst ourselves. She patted Lusa on the flank and the leopard caribou let the firebender fall to the ground. Katara hauled him up to his feet. “If for one second I think that you’re fooling me with your transformation, let me tell you something right now. If you take one step backward, one slip up that makes me think you might hurt me or my friends, you won’t have to worry about being a part of this world. Or the next one.” She took a step back.
Rojhan kowtowed before her, his nose nearly touching her feet. “I swear to you, my loyalty now lies with you. I swear on my life.”
Tsephel harrumphed.
Katara watched as the young man stood, bowing once more to her. “After I saw the others off, I remained close to the outpost. I watched as you flooded the base, and I saw when you left Mo-Pet.” He smirked. “It’s not hard to track a flying moose.”
The young Air Nomad swelled. “Dache. Is. a . Flying. Bison!”
Jet sighed. “Great,” he groaned, “here we go.” He sheathed his swords. The two young men sized each other up. The Banka-Kadian and the Fire Nationer seemed to be the same height as well as the same age, and Katara could see their eyes scrutinizing the other. It was the same look she had seen the boys back home do to each other when the first strands of hair sprouted on their lips. “You’re a soldier, so you must have some sort of survival skills. On the plus side, we won’t need to strike rocks for a firepit with you around. How well do you know this swamp?”
Rojhan shook his head. “When we were deployed here, our detail specifically mapped a route that circumnavigated it.” He surveyed the area around them and then upward. “Why didn’t you just fly until you found what you were looking for?”
They had considered it, but Katara didn’t know where to start looking and it wouldn’t have been fair to Dache for her to carry the three of them along with their supplies all the while hauling Lusa. She turned back to where the flying bison was waiting, her massive tail flapping lazily. Jet stamped out the smoldering remains of their fire while Katara preoccupied herself with breaking down their camp. She could see Tsephel in her peripheral vision, glaring at the firebender. It was not like his standoff with Jet, which to Katara had seemed more like two men acknowledging their manhood. Tsephel’s nose was wrinkled in disdain. Rojhan appeared both amused and puzzled. Katara tilted her head to get a closer look and hid her giggle.
Despite Tsephel’s venom, there was a spark in her eyes that Katara knew all too well. Her frown had frayed at the edges, turning up at the corners in the tiniest hints of a smile. Rojhan wore the same expression, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. He leaned back on his heels in a challenge.
“Should we even be watching this?” Jet whispered into Katara’s ear.
“I have no clue,” she whispered back.
The airbender jabbed a finger into Rojhan’s chest. “No funny business, psycho.” She stomped away, making a show of brushing Dache’s fur. “I’ve got my eyes on you.”
The firebender smirked. “Keep watching.”
After four days of the non-stop bickering between the Air Nomad and the former Fire Nation soldier, Katara was tempted to just create an igloo and seal them in it. Can they just get it over with and kiss already! It had taken all of six hours for Jet and her to admit their attraction to each other, yet the two seemed to enjoy getting under the other’s skin. Their rapid-fire insults grew increasingly personal until Rojhan was mocking the birthmark on her elbow and Tsephel was relentlessly teasing him for the bald patch where his beard would not fully grow. Jet plugged his ears and it seemed that even Dache and Lusa had grown exasperated with their antics.
Jet hacked away at a tangle of vines that blocked their path, high stepping over the undergrowth. Just to their left was an area where the terrain plunged straight down into a stagnant river. The water was murky, choked by aquatic moss, muck from decaying leaves, and cypress roots. Katara was certain she had seen the gleam of cat-alligator eyes, but when she blinked they had disappeared. Rojhan had created a torch with his firebending in order to deter the vampire-bat mosquitos from taking too much of a fancy to their flesh and in between their bickering, he and Tsephel created a sort of mobile flame torch that cleared the path before they even stepped foot on it. Traversing the swamp was a combined effort from the four of them, and Katara was eternally grateful that she had not tried to venture into it alone.
On the fifth day, in the mid-afternoon, they came across the first sign of civilization that they had seen since entering the swamp. It was a circle of houses, more comparable to cabins made from ancient oaks and strips of cypress bark, adorned with hanging brown-green moss. The houses were on stilts that held them high above the ground. There were no people (at least not from what Katara could see), yet there were clear signs that the community was an active one. Pots and pans were strung up from the roofs, and on other sides she saw a long rope that connected each house to the other, and upon those ropes were green and black and brown clothes hung up to dry. The community was backed up to the wetlands where the water formed another eutrophic lake.
Katara wove her hands through Lusa’s fur. She could hear the mewling-hoot of cat-owls in the trees. “I’m nervous to go in,” she admitted and realized what a ragtag group they must look. A Tribeswoman, an Air Nomad, a Fire Nation soldier, and a Banka-Kadian swordsman traveling together through a humid swamp. She could almost hear Sokka’s mockery. ‘An airbender and a Fire Nationer walk into a bar. Things suddenly get really steamy.’ She snorted, prompting the others to look at her in confusion. Katara quickly schooled her features.
The decision was made for them as the sound of a door slamming shut caught their attention. From where they stood, Katara could see a figure cloaked in mossy green standing on the railed porch of their stilted house, pointing a pair of binoculars in their direction. The person shouted wordlessly and a number of others poured from the house, all of them pointing and staring. The four of them shrank away, falling in closer to Dache and Lusa. The flying bison rumbled deep in her throat. Katara reached for the water surrounding them as the first of the individuals leapt over the railing of the porch. They were still too far away to determine if they were male or female, old or young. Not like it mattered. In one fluid movement, the person swept their arms out and then down, pushing the water out of the earth to clear the path. A waterbender! Katara’s eyes widened before mentally kicking herself. It made sense that swamp-dwellers would be waterbenders. There were a multitude of them scattered about Banka-Kadi. She watched as the individual skated across the water in movements that were more reminiscent of earthbending than waterbending, strong forceful strokes that crossed the distance with ease.
As the waterbender approached, Katara saw that it was a freckled woman. She slid to a halt. “It ain’t very often that we get outsiders around here,” she said without pause, “and much less a ragtag bunch like you lot. State your business.” She put her hand on her hips. There was a machete hanging from her belt and her limbs were protected by wooden gauntlets and shinguards. “And don’t lie, lest my brothers back there string you up and make you leather.”
Katara grimaced. “We’re…I’m…” I’m the Avatar and I’m looking for a tree. “We’re in search of a certain place here in the swamp, and we have no clue where we’re going.” The woman’s upper lip twitched. “Do you have a map we could buy from you?”
The swamp dweller threw her head back in laughter. “A map! We don’t use maps in these parts, girl. We use the water and our stories.” She sobered at their disquieted expressions. “But that don’t answer my question a bit. What kinda place are you lookin’ for? And I ain’t ever seen a waterbender, an Air Nomad, and much less a Fire Nationer traveling in a badly dressed acting troupe.” She jerked her head in Rojhan’s direction. “That ‘un stands like he came straight outta bootcamp. All stiff and stern.”
The firebender bristled. “I’ll have you know that I was a decorated man.” He had long since abandoned his armor in favor of a plain shirt and pants that were covered in muck like the rest of them.
“No one cares here,” the older woman snapped. “Come on, the whole lot of ya, and meet my brothers. They might be inclined to set you about on your way. I’m not.” She turned on her heel and Katara noted that she was barefoot. She wore anklets of wildflowers and she had also strung some of the petals through her short hair. Shooting a glance back at them, the waterbender set off back to the cabins on stilts. Katara led Lusa forward, picking her way over the path that the waterbender had cleared. The cabins grew ever larger, rising up like strange giants. The residents of the swamp town descended from the houses and drew closer to see them as they approached. They were all dressed the same, in leaf green with wooden gauntlets and shinguards.
One of the men stepped forward. He was grizzled and gray, but there was an obvious resemblance between him and the woman. Two other similar looking men stood at his side. The youngest looked as if he could be in his mid-twenties while the other was closer to forty than thirty. The eldest man wore a coronet of vines on his brow. “Mimi,” his voice was gruff like the rest of them, “who are these?”
Mimi, the woman, waved her arm. “A right weird bunch, if you ask me. Look at ‘em. A firebender . One that’s not a raging psychopath by the looks of it. And the Avatar even though she ain’t as noteworthy as I’d thought she’d be.” She scoffed at their incredulous looks. “Ah don’t think you all coulda played me for a fool. We might be swamp folks but that doesn’t mean we’re cut off from the rest of the world. The whole world knows who you are, girl. They might not know who you are, as in what you look like, but I can’t think of no other Tribesman that would be running around in a swamp with the folks you got here. You got a cat moose, a Banka-Kadian ruffian, and a flying bison.” She pointed at her brothers. “That there, that’s Eklis, Boboi, and Finn.” Each one bobbed their heads in turn. “So, what do ya really want?”
Tsephel leaned in Katara’s ear. “I don’t know if we should turn tail and run or be honest.”
There was a time and place to be honest. Katara weighed their options. They could wander around in circles until their supplies deplenished, or she could come clean. They already knew she was the Avatar. If they wanted to kill her then they would have done it by now. “I had a dream about a tree in the swamp,” she began. “Well, it wasn’t really a dream. When I let the Avatar Spirit take over, I was given a vision of a massive tree in the heart of the swamp. I have to go there.” She looked pleadingly at the swamp dwellers. If she didn’t then the spirit-gods would continue their plot against humanity. She had to stop Ozai.
The woman and her brothers were silent. Katara fidgeted under the scrutiny of their green-blue eyes. They were paler than Tribesmen and most Banka-Kadians that she had seen in Mo-Pet, and the men were shorter than the average Water Tribe warrior. Eklis, the elder, ground his teeth. “We will lead you,” he answered. His voice was strained and Katara did not miss the gasps of dissension that rolled over the onlookers. “The God Tree is not of this world. It was once part of the spine of a great lion turtle god. It is all that remains of him, but its power can still be felt when you are open to receive it.” Eklis’s eyes met hers. “It will speak to no one but you.”
Katara nodded.
Mimi clapped her hands together. “Well you won’t make it to the God Tree today. Or tomorrow either. You’d might as well come inside and get some clean clothes and a good meal. Boboi, go ask Tesli if she has any clothes that might fit these young’uns. Finn, you don’t mind sharing your clothes with these boys for a few days, no?”
Finn shook his head as Boboi took off in the direction of one of the other stilt cabins. Eklis lifted his chin and guided them across the damp earth to their abode. Dache and Lusa lingered behind before being nudged on by Jet and Rojhan while Tsephel and Katara followed up front. They walked up the stairs and into the house. It was warmer than Katara expected and upon inspecting the interior, she saw a lit fireplace. The house was humble and cozy, decorated by a few paintings of swamp scenery. Katara peeled off her shoes, sighing in relief. It had been too long since they had been inside of an actual properly constructed house after spending weeks in the humid wilderness.
“Come along then,” Mimi said as she led the young women to the back of the house into a large room. There was a singular bed set low to the ground, covered by a thin linen sheet. Mimi closed the door behind them, gesturing for them to sit. “If those filthy clothes of yours are to judge, I’d wager you all haven’t had a proper bath in a while. Go ahead and take that muddy mess off.” At their hesitation, the woman rolled her eyes. “Y’all ain’t got nothing that I don’t have myself. ‘Sides, with them boys of yours. I’d color myself surprised if there was anything shy about ya.”
Katara flushed. “Jet has never seen-!”
The older woman chortled. “So ya say.” She pointed teasingly at Tsephel. “This one and the firebender keep making oogly eyes at each other. A right good lookin’ couple if I say so myself.”
Tsephel bounced on her toes in barely constrained aggravation. “That fire-breathing dingdong doesn’t have anything I’d be interested in,” she retorted as she shed her clothing down to her bindings. “If he was the last man on earth, I’d cross the whole continent to get away from him.”
“Mm.”
Katara followed suit, standing awkwardly in front of the woman. Mimi disappeared, returning a few moments later hauling a large basin filled with water behind her. The woman grunted with the effort, careful not to splash the warm water on the floor. Katara rushed to help, grabbing one side of the basin while Tsephel took the other. The three of them pulled the basin to the middle of the room. Mimi procured bars of soap and washcloths that Katara was eternally grateful for. The woman offered them a maternal smile not unlike that of Yamjang’s, who had always been softer than Ubon. It perhaps had been a matter of personality or life experiences. Yamjang had been warmer and more inclined to play with the children, flying with them on her own bison or racing after them on an air wheel of her own. Tsephel allowed her to bathe first, slipping out of the room on Mimi’s heels dressed in a robe that the woman had given her.
Katara eased her body into the water, sighing in relief as the tension in her body dissipated. She did not release how much her body ached after sleeping on the ground or in Dache’s saddle, taking turns to serve as a vigil in the night. Rojhan had volunteered to take more shifts, and Katara wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to prove himself to them or if it was a matter of his military training taking precedence. Either way she was grateful. Katara lathered herself with the soap and scrubbed with the washcloth until she felt sufficiently clean. With a sweep of her hand she bent the water away from her and patted herself dry with the towel before shrugging on the second robe that Mimi had provided them. The woman had been gracious enough to leave slippers as well.
The adjacent room was another bedroom with two unoccupied beds. Katara stepped inside, finding a folded tunic and black leggings. She smiled to herself. Perhaps these waterbenders were not like her Tribe, but they shared the same sense of hospitality. It caused another pang in her heart that she had not allowed herself to feel. Her Tribe. Her people. Her home. She thought of Gran-Gran alone in the South without her son and her grandchildren. So much had changed. Would the Tribe even recognize her? She was no longer the daughter of the South, at least not like before. She had winter in her veins, but summer and autumn and spring, too. She was a child of the water and the earth, of the breeze and the hearth.
Tsephel materialized from the corner of the room, her countenance uncharacteristically somber. Katara found herself flinching under the gray intensity of her friend’s stare. She appeared older than her seventeen years with the solemnity of a crone.Was this what they would all become? Old world-weary women? A curious half-smile played on her lips and Katara remembered that her friend was a master airbender who was privy to the spiritual secrets that came with the title. “Stop thinking about that tree,” she said, her voice puncturing the silence that had settled over them. “You’ll get there, I promise.” She reached out to grasp Katara’s hand. “I’ve followed you this far, against my better judgment I should add, and I’ll follow you through the rest. Now go help Mimi get clean water for my bath, and see if you can get that fire breathing rat to make himself useful and warm it up.” She huffed at Katara’s snicker. “Don’t even think about saying that. That yellow eyed menace is a thorn in my side and I don’t want anything to do with him.”
“Is that right?”
Both of them turned at the voice at the doorway. Rojhan leaned against the wall, his arms crossed in the way that all self-assured men seemed to stand. He waved his hand. “Go on, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me. Naturally you won’t want anything to do with my services, either. I am a firebender afterall, and a nice hot bath is certainly not out of my scope.” His eyes twinkled with mirth. “The Avatar doesn’t seem to mind my presence, and I’m sure she won’t mind a warm bath either, hmm?” He had bathed and refreshed himself and had dressed in a white shirt and dark green pants. His hair was swept up in a traditional topknot. “I always thought you Air Nomads were queer, but I didn’t realize you were an actual airhead.”
Tsephel raged, clenching and unclenching her fists. Katara looked between the two. Rojhan winked. He enjoys irking her, the waterbender realized, spirits they’re both pathetic. “You’d better be lucky Katara and Jet like you, because I sure don’t . Katara, tell him to warm the water up. Consider this part of your atonement.” She gaped as Rojhan crossed the distance between them, lowering his head to meet her gaze in a silent challenge. Katara reddened as the firebender cupped the Air Nomad’s cheek, tapping her on the tip of her nose as if she were a pet. Was she really supposed to be watching this?! Tsephel slapped his hand away. “Make like the wind and get moving, firebender .”
“At your command, milady,” the Fire Nationer turned and left the room with a quiet chuckle.
Katara cleared her throat. “Do you…do you want to talk about it?”
“No!” Tsephel screeched, her cheeks as bright as a plum, “I most certainly do not!”
—-------
The swamp dwellers sang songs of the bog and the marsh, of the hanging vines and wildflowers that grew where no other dared. The lyrics reminded Katara of the legends of her own homeland told through song. They told stories that brought the landscape to life through their words, describing dark caves and waterfalls, and the heroes long gone that traversed them. A part of Katara knew the words, another past life where her bare feet had known the mud and moss. The stories came to life as they flew through the swamp atop Dache with Lusa strapped in her harness. The trees and stagnant bodies of water passed below, leaving behind the civilization of the swamp dwellers who had been kind enough to give them supplies and a map after guiding them through the most labyrinthine terrain of the swamp, bidding them good fortune.
The God Tree rose up like a colossus, its swath of branches and crown spreading out over the swamp. Katara’s breath caught in her throat. It was even more enchanting than it had been in her vision. The leaves were unimaginably green and its tawny truck seemed to glow. Her companions were in awe. Even Tsephel, who had grown up in the Air Temples that looked like they had been constructed by the gods themselves. The airbender pulled on Dache’s reins as they drew closer to the God Tree, commanding the flying bison to slow. Katara leaned over the edge of the saddle and peered down as they drew closer.
“Never in my wildest dreams would I have envisioned something like this,” Rojhan said.
“Me neither,” Jet added.
Tsephel spun around to face the trio. “Do we land?”
Katara nodded. “Tsephel, take us down.” Her friend clicked her tongue and Dache began her descent, much to Lusa’s vocalized chagrin. The ground rose up to meet them as Dache flapped her massive tail to lessen the impact of their landing. Jet was the first to swing down, unhitching Lusa while Katara and Rojhan followed suit.
The God Tree threw them into an impenetrable shadow, though it was midday. It loomed over them, its ancient trunk so wide and so dense that it appeared like a citadel. Katara could see primordial carvings from mankind long since passed etched into the bark, incantations and legends written into the ancient tree. It was truly glowing from within, she realized, its soft amber light pulsing like a heartbeat. It’s alive, she realized. There was a section of upraised roots, gaping like a cavernous maw, from which darkness emanated. Katara’s heart skipped a beat.
She had to continue alone.
Sensing her hesitancy, Jet reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We can go with you. Maybe Mimi and Elkis were wrong.”
Katara shook her head. “This is something I have to do alone. I have to get the answers here if I’m going to stop the Phoenix King and the gods.” She looked down as Tsephel quietly pressed her knife into her palm and closed her fingers around the hilt. “You guys wait out here.” Should it come to the worst, at least they could defend themselves. Two bending masters and a swordsman were no easy targets. “I’ll…I’ll be back.”
The young woman inhaled deeply and took a step forward. Her feet guided themselves, one in front of the other. She stumbled blindly into the cave and wished that she had at least some rudimentary firebending skills to light her way. One day . Rojhan had already agreed to be her instructor when the time came, and while Tsephel’s teaching left much to be desired, she had managed to make a half decent airbender out of the Katara in the time they had spent together. The cave was surprisingly warm, as if it was heated by the ground. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she saw stalactites and stalagmites protruding from the ground and ceiling of the cave as a result of the moisture that had managed to seep through the tree roots. The only sound was the drip of the water and her breathing.
She continued on. Upon the walls were carvings and it dawned on her that the pictures were telling a story. A woman in labor, giving birth to a son. A young man with a spear kneeling before a dragon. Another touching a badgermole. Two women, one holding the moon and the other dancing. Katara blinked. The next image was of the four people kneeling before a chaotic entity that could only be a god, though it held no true shape. Another was of a massive lion-turtle that carried a world on its back, and from its spine grew a heavenly tree. This is the creation of the world . The lion-turtle extended its gnarled claws to touch one of the young men on the forehead and the scene opened up to reveal a painting of a cluster of stars blending with the Northern Lights. She gasped. Harmonic Convergence , her mind whispered, though its meaning did not come to her.
The path veered off and opened into a stone-encased cavern in which was a body of water that glittered as if it were lit by stars. The ground around it was fluorescent yellow and littered by gypsum flowers. It was almost unbearably humid and Katara felt sweat form on her brow. She took note of crystals sprouting from the floor that cast pale shadows on the ceiling. Without thinking she shed her shoes and then her pants, removing her shirt until she stood only in her bindings. She crossed barefoot to the edge of the lake. Following the tug on her spirit, Katara held her breath and stepped in.
Her world exploded in a flash of light before she found herself in a forest swathed in gray. Her dreams had sent her here before. Katara looked down. She wore a dark parka and hood, and upon her feet were fur-lined boots. She looked up. That strange galaxial sky was above her now, having replaced the sun. It felt strangely within reach and she realized she stood on the peak of a snow- capped mountain. It was not the South Pole, she knew. It was not familiar at all, but rather it repelled her. This land did not want her here.
It dawned on her that it would serve her better if she walked. She turned around and stared up a sky that was both foreign and achingly familiar. The stars and the aurora were perfectly aligned, just a few miles away it seemed. The mountaintop was beginning to plateau. She had been deposited on its precipice. A thin line of trees lined the snow laden path. Katara looked down at her feet before taking a determined step before her. She did not feel the strange detachment that she normally felt when her body was separated from her mind. She could hear the rush of blood in her ears and the ache of the soles of her feet.
She was no longer under the God Tree. Somehow, some unfathomable way, the underground lake had pulled her in. It had dragged her through the confines of space and distance, dropping her in a place that the winter in her bones recognized. A place that the Avatar Spirit knew all too well.
Jet and the others would begin to worry about her, yet she could not find an exit. The lake had disappeared without a trace. The trees ran alongside a trodden path towards the mountain plateau. She began to walk along the trail, running her hands over nettles to see if she was truly tethered to her body. Tsephel isn’t going to believe this, Katara laughed to herself.
As she walked, Katara thought of all the adventures (or rather, misadventures) that she would tell Sokka. She would regale him with tales of bloodbenders and bounty hunters, of somehow disappearing into a tree. Perhaps Yue would join in with her own story on how she caused the Fire Nation royal family to implode. Perhaps she would see her friend wearing the crown of the Fire Nation, ruling over them all. It was possible now that she was married to the Crown Prince. Katara had seen stranger things.
There was the crack of a twig and Katara spun on her heel, reaching for the snow and bringing it to her with a wave of her fingers. She brought her arm up in a bending stance. Before her stood a terrified young man and a dog. A Water Tribe man. He held an expertly crafted spear.
The dog barked. The young Water Tribe man stared at her, bracing the spear. “You can see me?” He asked, bewildered.
Katara nodded.
The young man swore loudly and stepped backwards, pointing the spearhead at her. “Are you real? Or another psycho face stealing spirit?” The dog bared its teeth at her.
Katara dropped her arms. “What?” Her face contorted as she tried to comprehend his nonsensical ranting. “ What are you talking about?”
While his eyes were still filled with suspicion, he lowered the weapon. “I’ve seen more wackos up here than I’d ever hoped to see,” the young warrior said. “That face stealer back there-” he jerked his head in the direction from which he had come- “almost did me in. I thought you were going to be a foul-thing or a spirit.” He searched her face. He couldn’t have been much older than her, though there was a fatigue and sadness in his eyes that suggested he had endured too much, too soon. His features were chiseled, his hair thick and black. Save for his eyes, he was cleanly handsome, unlike Jet’s roguish charm or Rojhan’s rigid upkeep. His clothes were faded and worn. “At this point it doesn’t even faze me that you just materialized from nowhere.”
The waterbender wondered if she should run while she still had a chance. If he was real and she was real, then somehow she had teleported somehow through the lake under the God Tree. “Where are we?”
“On the mountain that holds the Seat of the Demiurge.” His brows quirked. “Y’know, the spirit portal that the gods use to cross over? That thing up there?” He pointed north. “The portal that they plan on using to kill us all if the Avatar can’t stop them? In the North Pole?” The boy leaned against the staff of the spear. “Wait a minute. You’re a southerner. ” He narrowed his eyes at her. “How’d you get here?”
He was saying things that she didn’t understand, yet she knew them to be true. They were not in the spirit world, but rather at the place where the two realms collided. The place where she needed to be. Katara began to move slowly around him, his eyes never straying from hers. His polar dog began to growl. She felt a pang at the thought of Aga, her own beloved canine. “I came…” I just magically appeared? I went swimming and ended up here? “I…I…I’m the Avatar. I came through a tree.” Spirits, I sound crazy and stupid. A tree!
She was startled by the embittered laugh that erupted from the young man’s throat. His mirth did not reach his eyes. “If you had told me that a year and a half ago, spirits, even three months ago, I wouldn’t have believed you. I’ve seen stranger things.” He scoffed and suddenly threw his weapon at her with a resentful grin. “Take your damn spear back then, Avatar. We’ve been keeping it safe for you. All these years. Do your job.”
Katara caught it before it could hit the ground. It was taller than she was and the point was carved from ice. The young man was silent, as if awaiting her reaction. She tested the weight of it. He said it had belonged to a previous Avatar, yet this time no whispers caressed her memory. The spear emanated power. How had he come to be in possession of it? Who had been keeping it safe? The boy took off before she could speak, trailed by his faithful canine. Katara scuttled after him and tried to organize her racing thoughts. “Can you tell me your name at least?”
The young man glanced back over his shoulder. “Hahn.” His answer was laconic. “Of the Northern Water Tribe.”
Katara exhaled sharply. She really was in the North Pole. She struggled to find the words to express her confusion. She tripped over the staff of the spear, unaccustomed to its length. The man, Hahn, sighed reproachfully before reclaiming it. There was an unrest in his eyes that suggested he had seen unimaginable horrors, things that went beyond the trauma of war. She dared not ask and he did not seem inclined to tell. The Northern Water Tribe. “So you know Princess Yue?”
Hahn paused mid-step. “Not personally, no. The last I’d heard, our nation was about to go to war to get her back from the Fire Nation.” He sneered. “I don’t really follow the local news anymore. We poor bastards on the Ice Wall are out of the loop.” With the spear of Avatar Kuruk strapped to his back, Hahn continued on. Katara wasn’t sure if he had a true destination in mind. “We’re more concerned with keeping the spirits from destroying humanity.”
“Wait, what?” That was the purpose of her mission after defeating Ozai. “T-that’s kinda why I’m here. To make the spirit-gods believe that mankind is worth living. I have to take down the Phoenix King and restore political balance.” It was comforting to know that at least they were on the same side. But yet there was so much that she didn’t know.
As they continued on, Hahn divulged the last two years of his life, including his time at the Ice Wall where Northern criminals went to rot. He spoke of foul-things repelled by ice and the Seat of the Demiurge as his destination. He choked when he told her of the men whom he had considered his brothers by creed if not by blood. “I had a friend,” he said. “The closest one I’ve ever had. A real nutcase.” He pulled his hood over his head.
Katara could not see his face, yet she could hear his voice thicken with unshed tears.
“Before I came up here, I didn’t think monsters like that existed. The ones that hurt their children. The ones that-” He trailed off. “Squid. It turns out the crazy bastard was a girl. Her real name was Tikaani. She was my friend and I- I failed her.” Hahn shook his head as if to dispel whatever dark memories plagued him. “Everyone failed her.”
Katara was reminded painfully of Jun. She, too, knew the loss of a dear friend.
The man’s dog, whom he called Imiqi, stopped in her tracks. She growled and her hackles raised. Hahn snapped to attention, dropping into a warrior’s crouch. Katara followed suit, unsure of what was happening but trusting the dog’s instincts. Polar dogs were especially keen on sensing threats. Imiqi gnashed her teeth. The boy and his dog were a seamless team, much like Katara and Lusa, falling into sync. Imiqi crouched as she crept forward, nose to the ground. Hahn readied the spear. “If you’ve got any fighting skills at all, it’d really help if you used them. I know you southerners actually let girls learn combat skills. Besides, you’re the Avatar. Surely you have a couple tricks up your sleeve.” At his side she saw that he also carried a dagger.
“A couple,” she replied.
Hahn smirked. “Get ready to use them. Something’s coming,” he growled.
“How do you know?” Katara asked and the young warrior rolled his eyes. She felt her cheeks redden.
“I think I’m an expert on these types of things at this point.”
If all the men on the Ice Wall were as insufferable as them, she was certain that they spent most of the time pummeling each other. Her heart began to beat faster. The ground began to rattle and shake as fissures appeared in the soil, belching out steam that quickly turned to ice as it hit the surface. Dread crept up her spine that quickly gave way to terror as the most grotesque creature she had ever seen emerged from the fissure in the ground. Its claws were the length of her forearm, attached to arms that had shining pearl-white skin that was covered in a thin layer of fur. Its arm from claw tip to shoulder was as long as her leg. It let out a high pitched whistle as it dragged itself out of the earth. Scaled shoulders appeared and then a sinewy draconian neck, followed by a head that was both leonine and human in appearance. It opened its huge pale yellow eyes as it clawed its way to freedom, rising to tower over them. It had to be at least twelve feet tall.
Hahn and his dog had not flinched. The creature stared down at them soundlessly, unfurling dragon shaped wings that stretched as wide as it was tall. This had to be one of the foul-things that Hahn spoke of, one of the demonic creatures that tormented men in the spiritual and physical world. They were the servants of the spirit-gods that wanted to keep men away from the Seat of the Demiurge. The beast bellowed out an ear splitting roar and dropped down onto all fours. It seemed as if it was waiting for them to make the first move.
Hahn reached into his shirt, withdrawing a chain from which hung an exquisitely carved amulet. He raised it high, thrusting it at the foul-thing. Katara could see that his arm was trembling. “Shit. That’s not a foul-thing.” His voice rattled. “It’s a god.”
Her heart plummeted. She had not seen many gods, but she knew that the one before them was a malevolent one. With a breath she raised her arms, drawing water from the ground and from the snow, letting it float around her. The two of them stood in a tense silence.
And as if a floodgate had opened, the god lunged forward. Hahn danced away with Imiqi at his side. Katara fell away in the other direction. She had faced many enemies since leaving the South Pole, but she had no idea on how to fight a god. It sprang at her, gaping maw slavering. She could see two rows of monstrously sharp teeth. Katara brought the water up and then down in a sweeping arc, knocking the vicious god sideways. It recovered quickly, crossing the distance between them with ease. The earth cracked underneath its paws.
Hahn’s dagger cut through the air and landed true. The hilt was embedded in the side of the creature’s chest. It turned its attention to the young northerner. Imiqi barked ferociously, standing in front of her master. The foul god launched its bulky body in their direction, claws outstretched and mouth thirsting for blood.
The creature, the king of the foul-things, roared once more. Katara closed her eyes and threw out her hands. It was a dark art, her conscious screamed, but this was a dark demon. She could only hope that it worked. Flexing her fingers and then curving them into claws, Katara reached for the god’s blood, hoping that it would work the same way. Surely an Avatar had done something similar before.
Feeling the tug on its life force, the king of the foul-things turned back to it. It ran at her, propelled by its flapping wings. She dropped her arms, inwardly chiding herself. It was worth a try, she could hear Jet say in her mind. The young Avatar rolled, sliding between the monster’s legs. Taking advantage of the precious seconds before the monster turned, she shifted the snow into blades of ice and raked her fingers across the air. The ice daggers followed her command and sank into the foul god’s flesh. It screamed.
Imiqi sprang, sinking her fangs into the membrane of the beast’s wing. She leapt away and out of reach, retreating to Hahn’s side.
Across the space, Hahn caught Katara’s gaze. He gave the tiniest of nods, jerking his head in the direction of the portal. His countenance was placid, overcome with resignation. She took a step forward and hesitated.
The warrior raised the spear of Avatar Kuruk above his head. With his dog at his side, once more he leapt at the god. “Katara, go!”
Katara went.
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, stumbling over piles of snow and rocks. Low hanging branches scratched her face. She could hear the battle behind her, though she knew it was not much of a fight. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and her chest tightened as at last she reached the highest peak of the mountain where the earth met the sky. Just before her, in the center of the clearing, a beacon of light shot up from the snow and pierced the aurora. It gleamed a brilliant green, fraying at the edges.
The spirit portal.
The Seat of the Demiurge.
Katara dropped to her knees. Her mind was inundated with a flood of thoughts that would not cease, that were disjointed and incomplete, alongside the buzz of a thousand voices. The portal called out to her, singing the songs of the universe, and Katara’s spirit knew the words. She pushed herself to her feet and took a lurching step forward. And then another. And then another until she stood at the edge of the celestial gateway. Katara exhaled.
And stepped into the sky.
The aurora became a kaleidoscope of color. Pink and violet, indigo and turquoise. It brushed against her skin, setting every hair on edge. A warm wind stirred her hair. She looked behind to see the ground below, where the gateway between worlds met the earth. She was in a courtyard of what appeared to be a palace. It was unlike any she had ever seen. It was built of terraces from which hung illustrious gardens, kept aloft by gargantuan columns. In the center of the courtyard sat three celestial figures. They were watching her.
With her heart in her throat, Katara crossed the distance. She kept her eyes low, half blinded by the brilliant light emanating from the heavenly beings. They were barefoot, adorned in pale robes that billowed in a wind that she could not feel. They glowed from within. As she approached, she could feel them peeling her skin back with their eyes, seeing her for who she truly was.
“Avatar.”
The god in the center was the first to speak. He bore the appearance of a middle aged man whose face was beginning to crease with wrinkles. He sat lotus-style and when Katara looked up, she saw that his eyes were garnet red. Beside him was a woman with gray hair and the third was an androgynous entity whose face seemed to shift every time Katara blinked. “It is a pleasure to see you again. I see you managed to pass Rayaatu.” The god chuckled. “He takes great pride in guarding the portal. We were expecting you. Your friends are very loyal, following you to the God Tree like they did. They will remain devoted to you even as you venture to the Estival Peninsula. Cherish them in the wars yet to come.”
Katara dipped her head. “That includes the war with you all.”
The god hummed deep in his throat. “It would not be much of a war, little one. We have told you what must be done. Zhera-Zhera, have we not?”
“And we admire your optimism,” the goddess, Zhera-Zhera, spoke for the first time. “Father Vaatjin means to say that we have given you, meaning your predecessors, ample time and opportunity to rectify what needs to be done. Unfortunately for you, my dear, you do not have the luxury of meandering.” She cocked her head. “Trust me, little one, if it were up to me, I would give you a lifetime. But there is a mortal who seeks more than what he has been given.” She waved her hand and the air rippled before her. “The man intends to use the energy of the spirit portal and the upcoming solar eclipse and the blood of a magical being to create a new Harmonic Convergence, which would allow him to harvest the magic of the universe and become a god himself.” Zhera-Zhera paused when Katara flinched. “The spirit world is no place for kings. Especially not ones like that.”
The Phoenix King.
The third figure, the androgynous youth, nodded as if they had read Katara’s thoughts. “Destroy him before he manages to cross over and that will buy you time to bring balance to your realm. This, you must do.” They slid to their feet and glided over the stone, reaching out for Katara’s hands. The god’s fingers were cool. They moved to press against her third eye chakra and without warning, the god’s touch began to burn. Katara struggled to pull away and found that she could not. “You shall see even when your eyes are closed,” the god whispered, “I have given you a gift that your soul will know how to use. Remember that you are the great balancer. Be the great balancer.”
And then she was falling away, through the earth and through the stars, through stretches of time until she broke the surface of the lake in the cave under the God Tree. She gasped for air, dragged down by her soaked hair that clung to her face. The Estival Peninsula, she remembered. She pulled herself from the water, bending her body dry before redressing in a palpable silence. The Estival Peninsula. She knew her friends were waiting for her. She thought of Hahn, whom she had scarcely known, and felt a pang of guilt. She had not witnessed whatever became of him. He had been holding Kuruk’s spear.
She could hear the steps of her friends as they barreled towards her. Their eyes were wide with awe. “We keep going west,” she said without preamble. “To the Estival Peninsula.”
Rojhan, surprisingly, was the first to respond. He nodded resolutely. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 50: A Boy and His Dog
Chapter Text
Hahn
Imiqi bundled closer to him, pressing her damp nose against his cheek, and Hahn remembered he had to wake up. The cold had threatened to envelop him in its permanent embrace, lulling him into the elysian tundra of peace and tranquility where the food was warm and the women were beautiful. Thankfully he had dreamt of no foul-things, and though he was keenly aware of their innumerable eyes as they trekked up the mountain, the spirits had elected to leave him in uneasy peace. They jeered and taunted from a distance in every cardinal direction and tried to lure him off course or to convince him to drop the spear. Each time Imiqi tugged on his parka or snapped at his hand until he returned to reality. As a reward he fed the dog tasty morsels of whatever animal he managed to catch and skin.
The mountain was a lonely place.
The Seat of the Demiurge always loomed in the distance, never appearing any closer. The aurora and the galaxial horizon had replaced the sun, luring him and repelling him at the same time. Humans did not belong in this place. The primordial pull led Hahn to believe that his ancestors had scaled the mountain all the same, perhaps in pursuit of the same thing as he. He could almost envision them trekking alongside him, bundled in their boots and furs. There was no snow here, not until the mountains peaked, but he had yet to go. Imiqi wagged her tail as he hummed.
“Y’know, my parents never let us have a dog. Mom claimed she was allergic, but I remember I used to catch her petting the neighbor’s purse-sized brat. I hated that thing. I think she just didn’t want to deal with all the shedding. Dad wanted one. A big one like you, not one of those little ankle biters.” Imiqi, who clearly had no clue what he was saying but nonetheless enjoyed the conversation, wiggled in delight. Hahn scratched the back of his neck. Great, now his only company was a dog. A very cute dog who licked his face with adoration, but still a dog. He alternated between pulling the skid and hitching it to her harness. Might as well put you to work somehow. Other times she bounded ahead, scouting the area before he reached it. “Hasook was about to get married when I left. He was carving a betrothal necklace for a girl. Meekla. She was alright, I guess.” He could barely remember what the girl looked like. He knew that she and Hasook were evenly matched, both completely insufferable. She was good enough for Ma and Pa to approve of. Ma was particularly protective of her firstborn and her youngest. Poor Nilu had always been stuck in the middle when they were children. There were seven years between him and Hahn, and only two between Nilu and Hasook. Nilu had been the baby for years . By the time Hahn came of age, his parents had exhausted whatever business relationships and arrangements they had made over the years on the older boys. Hasook became a warrior, but his real talent was arithmetic. He took on an accounting venture that was just beginning to take off when Hahn left home. Nilu had also become a warrior, but he had pursued a career in Tribal Law, which meant he was especially an ass but it made Ma and Pa proud.
Nilu’s girl was easier to deal with and easier on the eyes. He remembered that she was tall, taller even than Nilu. She had hailed from a different clan, and upon reflecting on it, she had also been from the Clan of Yuna. The same clan as Squid and Squid’s father. Bastard. He dared not let his thoughts linger too long on his friend, lest his eyes begin to sting.
Despite his boasting, Hahn admittedly had never kissed a girl. Well once, his neighbor Yuri, who had been his schoolmate. She was a year older and a waterbender. If women had been allowed to fight then she might have made a decent warrior, but it was known that women would never be warriors. They would never hold any sort of office, especially not the title as Chief. He thought passively of the woman who was Tonraq’s mother, the elder sister of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. She had been overlooked because she was born with the wrong part between her legs. It was the way things were. Only in the past few generations had it been outlawed to “physically discipline” one’s wife, and Hahn was not stupid enough to believe that it meant anything other than: ‘beat your wife bloody’. It was unfortunate that old beliefs were slow to die. In hindsight, Tikaani had been better than all of them. She had been almost superhumanly strong, remarkably clever, and maybe if given the chance she could have made a decent name for herself.
And now she’s dead in the snow.
“So what’s up with you and the other dogs?” Hahn continued. “Black Fang’s terrified of you, and that cranky old bastard isn’t scared of anything.” Was he really gossiping with a dog? “You’re about as scary as a pile of warm blankets.” Imiqi was not nearly as formidable as the other dogs they had brought with them on the expedition. She was white and red, not an uncommon coloring for polar dogs but not one commonly seen in the far north. Hahn figured she was a recent import, brought to the Ice Wall as little more than a whelp. He patted her head. “Or are you secretly as wild as your old master? I could see you running barbarians to the ground. It doesn’t matter. I’m taking you with me when I go back home. To the capitol, I mean. You’ll be my dog, yeah?” Imiqi didn’t have much choice. She was his dog already and he dared anyone to say otherwise. In the eyes of Tribal law he was a man grown, he could have a household. He would have to rent a place first while he saved his money. He would buy something humble, settle down with a pretty girl, and have a quiet life.
A quiet life.
When did that become his goal? When he first left home, his sole intention was to best his brothers. He had been self-assured, cocky even. He had cared more about his appearance than he did about others. The bottomfeeders on the Ice Wall had meant nothing to him. At some point in time they had become his brothers, his cousins, his uncles. Tonraq had bent and broken and molded him into a man. The Far North had shattered him and restored him, built him into something that he would have never been if he hadn’t been set on the course.
‘Perhaps we’ve made something out of you after all.’
They found a clearing where Hahn set up camp. He pitched his tent and used a minimal amount of kindling to strike a fire. He would skip dinner, preferring to keep as much food available as he could. There was surprisingly a decent abundance of small game to be caught, though he was always wary of accidentally eating a minor spirit. There would be no excuse for that. He had no doubt that the spirits would strike him dead. He fed Imiqi slivers of roasted rabbit and crawled into the tent. It was nearly impossible to distinguish the days. Time had become an illusion. The only truth was the aurora and the intertwined galaxy that never faded away. His sleep was dreamless and when he awoke, it was to the same monotony as the day before.
The silence of the mountain, the deep shadows that clung to the trees, and the sight of the Seat of the Demiurge just out of reach. Imiqi’s warmth. The dull ache that had settled in his limbs and refused to go away. Each day the same.
Hahn broke down the camp and piled everything back on the skid and tied it down before throwing the rope over his shoulder. His dog looked at him expectantly. Hahn lifted his head to peer at the summit. The path before them was rocky and the mountain face grew increasingly sparse with trees. There was an unseen river that they had been following, lingering close to hear its rushing song. There were many songs about the rivers of the North Pole. Hahn had never paid much attention to them in school but they came back to him now, in the place where he was the only man left in the world. He had liked the legends of the Dark Times when the greatest warriors lived. Men like Nanook and Apaataroq who had formed the Tribes after uniting the clans. Nanook had gone south and Apaataroq stayed in the North Pole. Hahn’s childhood aspirations had revolved around carving his name into the icebound tomes of history, until they sang of Apaataroq and Tuloq and Napaatoki and Hahn. His descendants would be the Clan of Hahn. Hahn the Warrior who Saw the Seat of the Demiurge. Hahn who Crossed the Far North. Hahn, the Wolf of the Sunless Sky. That sounded good. That would be a good story. He chuckled to himself.
An unexpected sadness came over him. Now the only thing he prayed for was a warm bed and a quiet life.
He saw a wolf spirit staring at them from a distance. It gleamed yellow and pink, its eyes piercing through him even from where it stood. A hollow crescent moon had been carved between its eyes. Its tail curled over its paws. Imiqi’s hackles raised on end and instinctively Hahn reached down to grab her scruff. It wasn’t Piqatok, that much he knew. He had been expecting for the messenger spirit to appear at some point, to try and convince him that his mission was in vain. Perhaps at this point she was just watching the free entertainment. He looked back at the wolf spirit. It had drawn closer, inhuman eyes boring into his own.
“What do you want?” Hahn bit out. He reached for the amulet hanging from his neck.
If the spirit could speak, then it chose not to. It trotted closer. Hahn did not feel the same malevolence that he had felt from other spirits and foul-things. Imiqi’s tail rose and waved in the air like a banner, her entire body quaking. The wolf spirit stopped before them and Imiqi dropped half of her body to the ground, waggling her rump in play. She yipped and lunged at the wolf spirit, dancing around it in circles as if they were both pups. The bright colored apparition’s tail twitched in bemusement before sneezing to show its lack of intention of harm, chasing the polar dog in joyful circles. Hahn stood dumbfounded, rubbing his eyes in disbelief of what he was witnessing. A spirit was really playing with his dog.
The whole place, the whole North Pole, everyone is a nutjob. Hahn despaired internally. He put his hands on top of his head as the wolf spirit trotted around its descendant, brushing their muzzles together. Imiqi turned back to Hahn, barking expectantly at him. She took several steps forward and looked back at him, beckoning for him to follow. Hahn looked warily at the wolf spirit. It seemed to look back at him with that same inexplicable intelligence, perhaps knowing that Hahn’s concept of space and time and life could not be compared to the planes of existence through which the wolf spirit was able to navigate. Imiqi seemed to trust the spirit, and Hahn had to admit that the polar dog seemed to have a better judge of character. He plucked up Avatar Kuruk’s spear from where he had placed it on the skid and held it in his right hand, using his left arm to pull the sled along as he tentatively followed.
The wolf spirit looked back at him to ensure that he was trailing behind. Imiqi yipped, voicing the spirit’s persistence, and Hahn bared his teeth. “You’re not the one hauling a sled,” he snapped at the dog. “I never rush you when it’s your turn.” Imiqi wagged her tail, clearly not understanding him but loving him all the same, dashing back to ram her head against the back of his knees. Hahn allowed his expression to soften. He shuffled after the wolf spirit, grumbling for the creature to slow its pace. It turned its ethereal gaze onto him.
“Speed up.” The wolf spirit said and Hahn jolted. It appeared as if it was smiling.
Hahn froze mid-stride, his mouth agape. “Are there any other surprises I should be prepared for?” Spirits, everything and everyone was absolutely insane. Why was he the unfortunate one who had to endure journeying with lunacy? “Imiqi, if you’re going to start talking, you might as well do it now.”
The dog wagged her tail.
Hahn sighed. “Are you here to escort me or lead me to my death?” At this point they were one and the same.
“It depends on which path you take,” the spirit replied. “You must proceed with caution. The path is treacherous. Many of your kind have lost their lives here.” It padded on and Hahn continued after it. “Most of us who dwell this far north have little care for the sight of human bones.”
“I take it you’ve seen a lot,” Hahn mused and the wolf spirit chuffed in amusement.
“Your clan’s ancestors were determined to cross over to the Seat of the Demiurge. Later, those who defend Kuruk’s Wall decided to make attempts. You are the only one who has made it this far. Piqatok said you most recent lot were unwaveringly resilient, no matter what foul-things plagued you.” The wolf spirit went on. “There was an Avatar once, before Kuruk, who would become one of your tribe’s forefathers. Urukaroq, that was his name, I believe. Very few of his kin remain. That is the way of you mortals and your fragile bloodlines. One day you will be forgotten.” With its snout it pushed a fallen log out of the way. “Most of you, anyway.”
Hahn considered the wolf spirit’s words and did not reply.
They fell into a stiff silence. It seemed as though the wolf spirit repelled the presence of the foul-things and the other malevolent spirits and they continued on without event. The wolf spirit sat vigil when they slept, falling into periods of silence that made Hahn feel as though he had imagined the whole thing.
“Why are you helping me?” He asked at last over a cook fire, staring at the creature. It sat on its haunches across from him. “I thought you wanted to get rid of us.”
The apparition hesitated. “Not all of us hate mortals. I was a human once, many eons ago.” Its voice became wistful and before Hahn’s eyes, it shifted into a young woman. She wore rich blue furs and an ermine trimmed hood. She was remarkably beautiful, with vibrant indigo apricitous eyes. Her hair was black like the ocean, splattered with white like stars.“The ocean god La saw fit to give me immortality, so that I could wander this mountain should a mortal man come.” Her mahogany skin glowed from within. “I shall accompany you as far as I am able to.”
Hahn mulled over her words. He knew better by this point than to question the strange workings of the universe. “So you were touched by La?” Princess Yue had been revived by Tui, the moon spirit, and her hair had been dyed white. He imagined that something similar had happened to the spirit in front of him. Princess Yue, as far as he knew, was still a captive of the Fire Nation. A pang of bitterness soured his tongue. In the Far North, he knew nothing of the Northern Water Tribe and recent events. Had they gone to war? How much time had truly passed? Imiqi burrowed her head under his legs, nearly lifting him from the ground. “Who are you?”
The wolf spirit chuckled. “Names are like the wind, but we put so much importance in them. I was once Malina, princess of the Northern Water Tribe and sister of Avatar Desakka. But why should that matter? No one remembers him. No one remembers me.” Her smile faltered. “You should sleep. We will cross the river tomorrow.”
When he awoke, the spirit who was once Malina had assumed her lupine shape. She waited patiently for him beside Imiqi, as prim and proper as any highborn lady. Hahn prepared to strap the sled tether to his waist but the wolf spirit nudged him aside, taking it between her teeth. She pulled it with ease and Hahn let out an impressed whistle. Why does it seem like women are the stronger sex after all? Squid had been freakishly strong, so much so that men twice her age and size had been terrified of her. They thought she was a boy. A weird little boy. Despite his best efforts, his thoughts traveled to his friend.
Squid had traversed the Ice Wall like he owned the place and had known everyone’s name. Not even Tonraq and his closest men had been exempt from his antics and ire. More than once Hahn had to drag Squid away before an irate graybeard could pummel him, and even more often he had seen Squid wrapping his ( her) knuckles after bloodying them with some poor man’s blood. Squid had thrived on jovial chaos. Perhaps that was what really sold the ruse. No one would suspect anything if they were always distracted by disorder. But just as he was violent, Squid was kind. Hahn recalled a time when he found Squid mending coats in the earliest hours of the morning, his fingertips bloody from pricking them with the needle. ‘I’m giving Tiguua a break for once from textile duty, the ol’ cranky bastard needs to sleep in once in a while.’ He had flashed that gap-toothed smile and presented his work with childish enthusiasm.
Just as Malina had said, Hahn heard the gurgle of running water. Imiqi darted ahead, her plume of a tail disappearing into the bushes. She left him alone with the sled and the wolf spirit. Hahn switched the spear to the other hand as they cut a path through the foliage. The river that ran down the mountain was a winding one that narrowed and widened in turns. In some places it was little more than a stream that one could leap across. In others it was a behemoth force of nature, rushing and roaring and consuming all that crossed its path. The water was nearly fluorescent, reflecting the stars that seemed so close yet so far away. Imiqi waited for them at the riverbank, trotting back and forth in anxious anticipation.
“You talked about the river like there was something special about it,” Hahn drawled. “It’s the same river that’s down there.” He wondered how the other men were faring. Were they waiting for him? Or had Tonraq led them back to the Ice Wall, leaving Hahn alone in the Far North? And the other men who had not been a part of the expedition? Tonraq had left one of his closest men in charge, perhaps the only one who could keep them all functional in the Chief Commander’s absence. “Imiqi, come.”
The lupine deity hummed. “There are often river spirits that linger here, tricksters and nymphs that are harmless but aggravating. I’d dare say they’re more annoying than Piqatok.” At Hahn’s incredulous look, the wolf spirit lashed her tail. “Piqatok likes to gossip,” Malina said disdainfully. “That’s why they made her the messenger. No one runs their mouth better than that one. Secrets don’t stay that way for long with that one around. Of course, no one else will say it.”
“I didn’t think you spirits were so…” Hahn struggled to find a word that wouldn’t cause the gods to smite him. Catty? Clique-ish? “Opinionated.”
Malina dipped her head to lap at the water, not deigning to offer a response. With her snout she gestured to a set of slippery stones protruding from the water, glistening with white moss. Hahn counted twenty of them from varying distances from each other, stretching to the other riverbank. Malina clamped her teeth around the sled tether and plunged into the water. Hahn strapped the spear to his back before hefting Imiqi into his arms, groaning at the effort. Precariously the young man stepped onto the first stone, bending his knees to keep his balance. Malina paddled steadily, her paws churning through the water. Hahn picked his way across, taking small leaps when he could.
He saw no spirits, perhaps because of Malina or maybe he looked pathetic carrying a dog over a river.
They forded the river without event and when Hahn looked up, he could see the snow-capped peak of the mountain just beyond a thicket of trees cast in an unnatural dark shadow. Everything is unnatural here, Hahn thought. However for some inexplicable reason,the sight of the forest unsettled him beyond what he had already felt since entering the Far North. He set Imiqi down and she immediately sat by his feet. Malina dragged the sled, setting it down. Her eyes were also on the path before them, and to Hahn she appeared somber. “A dark spirit dwells in those trees,” she said quietly. “One that even the spirit-gods fear. He swears loyalty to no one but himself, neither man nor god. He knows the secrets of the universe, one of the oldest amongst us.” She lashed her tail. “He takes pleasure in riddles and enjoys taunting you mortals. You must take great precaution should you encounter him. He will steal your face.” The wolf spirit paused.
“They call him Koh.”
Hahn shivered. A face stealer? He tried to imagine the horror and found that it was inconceivable. “And there’s no way I can just…go around it?” He was too handsome to have his face stolen. It was a rather nice face if he thought so himself. Spirits, he would have preferred foul-things. At least the ice amulet repelled them. This creature, this Koh, was from the spirit world. Tonraq’s words spun around his mind. “ This is the spear of Avatar Kuruk. With this spear, Hahn, you can kill a spirit-god.”
With this spear, Hahn, you can kill a spirit-god.
Kill a spirit-god.
The young warrior squeezed his eyes shut before reopening them with an invigorated resolve. Imiqi nipped at his hand and he caressed her ears. “Alright. Let’s keep going.” He put one foot in front of the other, fighting to keep the pit of dread that was forming in his belly at bay.
The forest was not like that of the Land of the Ice that Never Melts. The trees were hunched and gnarled, their trunks so dark that they were nearly purple, washed in the dim gray perpetual light. A soft amber glow pulsed from them, rising and fading to a song Hahn could not hear. The ground was soft underfoot and blanketed by green and white moss. Long shadows stretched out over their path. It was eerily quiet save for the hooting of a cat-owl. Malina trotted behind him, ears rotating to catch every sound. The snap of a twig. The rustle of the breeze through the tree canopy. Hahn slowed his fast-beating heart.
He heard it before he saw it, the sound of many feet picking and plucking at the earth. Each hair on the back of his neck was on end as if he had been struck by lightning. Imiqi began to whimper, pressing closer to Hahn’s leg. Malina was noticeably agitated, her eyes darting back and forth, scanning the tree line. Hahn shifted his hold on his weapon. For a few moments the sound stopped and there was only a tense silence. Hahn could feel a looming presence behind him, a malodorous scent reminiscent of fear and rot. He dared not move. He dared not to make a sound. He could feel the sting of eyes in his back.
“Mortal,” a voice sang, “you must be lost. Your kind typically don’t stray this far.”
Hahn held his breath.
Malina looked sidelong at him. “Whatever you do, do not move.”
“Hello, Malina.” The voice oozed. “Always a pleasure to see you. Very rarely do I see you anymore. And you never assume that pretty shape of yours. Are four paws better than two clumsy feet?”
The wolf spirit did not move her eyes. “Arguably so. And a thousand are certainly better than four.” She was as still as stone. Even Imiqi seemed to understand that any movement would forfeit her life. “It gladdens me to see that you are well.”
As quick as a whip, the Face Stealer was before them. He wore the face of a Fire Nation man permanently painted in a silent scream. Hahn resisted the urge to flinch. Koh shifted faces until he was a young gray eyed man. “As well as always, my dear. From whence do you come and where are you going?” He moved away, his thousand legs clicking against the trees.
“The North,” Hahn replied. “I am going to the Seat of the Demiurge.”
Koh hummed. “No place for those of human blood and no door you can open. Transcend though you might try, the cold winds bite and the snow’s embrace is warm. Scaling the mountain is not for the weak, my dear. Many men fail and I have many faces.” He circled around once more, now wearing the pained expression of a Water Tribe warrior. “Who gifted you that spear?”
Hahn met his gaze. “The Chief Commander.”
“I know that spear well. Kuruk was an interesting Avatar. The gods hated him. I, for one, enjoyed his company.” His face shifted into that of a woman’s. “Ummi was his beloved. Isn’t she pretty?”
“Very much so,” Malina was the one who answered. Koh glared at her. “These trees have served you well. The only creature more fearsome than Zhera-Zhera’s foul-things,” she lilted, “the entire spirit realm knows the name Koh.”
His eyes darkened in frustration. Hahn’s fists tightened around the spear. The Face Stealer crawled higher into the trees, perched to watch the three of them. Imiqi laid down, her tail over her nose. Hahn kept his face placid. “Indeed they do. My point still stands. Upon the peak of the mountain lies no world for commoner nor king. There was a man once, decades ago, who passed through. A Prince of what they call the Fire Nation.” Koh drew closer to Hahn until the young man could feel his cool breath against his cheek. “He had high hopes. Murdered by his own kin. Shame shame shame. Such is the way of your type, whether you slay them by your own hand…” his face became one of a boy with green blue eyes and a gap between his front teeth, “or by watching them die.”
Squid. He had Squid’s face.
Hahn choked, spinning around on his heel as his face contorted. Koh moved a second too late. Hahn had schooled his features once more.
“Life, death, earth and air. Fire and water, moon and stars. They matter not, yes? Tell me, what is a face? What is a name?” Koh had taken on Tikaani’s voice as well.
Hahn could see Malina shift her weight onto her haunches. He’s more annoying than scary, Hahn thought. If appealing to the gods meant listening to their rambling and riddles, he would gladly head back down the mountain and let someone else take all the glory. “You must change names as often as you change faces,” he said caustically.
Koh chuckled. “I have always been Koh. I will always be Koh. And who are you except a little mortal boy that tried to touch the gods?”
“Technically I’m not going to touch them,” Hahn was unable to suppress his ire, “just talk.” He rolled his palm across Kuruk’s spear, lifting it just so. Turn around, you multi-legged bastard. I just need you to turn around.
“You’re an argumentative one,” Koh grumbled.
Hahn made a sound in his throat. “Sometimes.”
There was the crackle of leaves. Hahn saw that Malina was gone. He could see a shadow flitting about, just out of Koh’s peripheral vision. The crescent moon between her brows was aglow. Go, she mouthed. Do what you must, and go.
The wolf spirit threw back her head and howled. Koh was upon her in an instant, his jaw transforming into a gaping maw with three rows of gruesomely sharp teeth. Hahn looked away, raising his weapon and crouching low.
“Hey, freak, bet you can’t take my face!” He shouted and hoped he sounded braver than he felt. Tui, La, or whoever else might be listening, be with me this once. He braced himself as the Face Stealer lunged at him, greedy eyes gleaming, mouth open to consume him. Hahn counted the steps, bringing his arm back and hurling the spear forward. The ice blade caught the light, fragmenting the colors and a rainbow formed briefly on its surface until it was lodged in Koh’s face between his forehead and nose. Before Hahn’s eyes, the face stealing god began to wither and rot, his spindly legs and thick body shrinking and turning to dust. His face was the last to disintegrate, his true form permanently suspended in that terrible emotion between fear and surprise. Hahn took a step back as the dust rained down on him, catching the staff as it fell.
Would you look at that. He turned his sight outward to where he last saw Malina. His heart sank. She sprawled where Koh had struck her down, nothing but an empty space replacing her face. Bile rose to his throat. With Imiqi behind him, he crossed the distance. “What’s in a name?” He repeated as he stood over the wolf spirit. Her body twitched. He wondered if she could hear him. “They’re like wind,” he raised the blade once more. As he brought it down, looking away, he whispered “ thank you.”
Hahn swallowed, looping the sled’s tether across his chest. He whistled and Imiqi trotted over to him. “Come on, girl, let’s go.”
And they went on.
When he decided they were finally far enough from the forest, he set up camp. He started a fire and ate jerky and a handful of nuts. He was slimmer, he knew. He had stretched his rations, unsure of what awaited him at the top of the mountain. When he had silenced the pang of hunger, he curled up with his faithful companion and together they slept blessedly without dreams.
Each day passed the same. They drew closer and closer still to the precipice. The sky began to shift. The stars drew closer and the Northern Lights were more vibrant, the air tasting of winter. Hahn walked faster until his legs and feet ached and until Imiqi sat down and refused to go further.
He could feel the foul-things watching him, and perhaps the spirit-gods, too. They scrutinized him with a newfound trepidation. He had killed a spirit-god. One of the most feared spirit-gods at that. None dared approach him, not even the dormouse-monkeys that occasionally swung from the trees. He encountered a wooly ram with a crescent moon that was identical to Malina’s, though it quickly veered away from him.
Hahn was even lonelier than before.
“After I get a house, you’re going to be an indoor dog. So you might as well get used to doing your business in a designated spot. And not yapping every time you’re offended.” Hahn smiled. “I think you deserve it after coming with me this far. Nothing but warm fires and full bellies for you, good girl. For the both of us.” Imiqi wagged her tail and Hahn’s heart twinged at her unconditional devotion to him. He understood why people were so attached to their dogs.
Warm fires and full bellies.
They crossed a stream and Hahn refilled their water canteens and scrubbed Imiqi clean. She protested loudly, though Hahn had long since learned to ignore her vocal protests. There was a thicket of trees just ahead and beyond he could see the snow laden trail of the tip of the mountain, just barely out of reach. The aurora seemed to converge there, suspended in the air as if it was pinned in place by the stars. Hahn marveled at the sight, his eyes welling with awe-inspired tears. It was both alluring and terrifying, causing the winter in his bones to quiver. It was almost within reach. And then his true task would begin.
They wandered through the trees, never straying too far from the well-trodden path. The rugged trail frustrated Hahn to no end. So much so that he opted to abandon the sled, stuffing all of their possessions into his rucksack. His back and shoulders were aching from hauling it behind him and Imiqi seemed grateful to lead the sled behind. Their pace quickened and each quasi-day they were able to cover more ground and rest in better places. The ice amulet and Hahn’s burgeoning reputation kept curious spirits at bay.
Through the trees, a light flashed yellow and blue before vanishing as quickly and quietly as it had come. Hahn shrank back, stifling a rather effeminate scream. The light faded, falling away in iridescent shards that disintegrated as they touched the earth. In their place was the fraying outline of what appeared to be a human silhouette. It grew opaque as the shards of light died. Hahn held onto Imiqi with one hand and the spear with the other, crouching low as the apparition turned to face him.
A girl.
The girl was looking at him.
He cried out in surprise, stumbling backwards before regaining his footing. The girl turned to face him, a baffled scream erupting from her. Her countenance was painted in the shade of horror. Hahn was sure his expression was the same. She looked too human to be a spirit, and she would have run away from him if she was a foul-thing. A real human, then. Hahn’s mind swam.
It was a distinctly Water Tribe girl, with large blue eyes and long dark hair. She wore black and her stance suggested that she was more of a warrior than a lady. Clearly not from the Northern Water Tribe.
So not only had a woman just materialized from thin air, she was a southerner.
Why can’t anything be normal up here? Hahn groaned internally. He sucked his teeth and stood taller. “If you’re another nutjob, go ahead and spit out your introduction and the rest of your spiel. I’ve heard enough of them.” Imiqi did not appear frightened or uneasy, which meant the girl was both human and held no bad intentions. Hahn refused to let himself relax. “ How’d you do that? Just come from thin air like that?”
The young woman, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, was just as bewildered as Hahn felt, though she did a poor job of concealing it. Koh would have eaten her alive in a heartbeat. She was trembling and Hahn took note of her fingers moving almost involuntarily. The snow danced along to the movements. A waterbender. Not only a southerner, but a waterbender. He knew that the Southern Water Tribe was different; they allowed their women to learn combative bending and to hold certain political positions. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “All I know is that I was swimming in the water underneath the God Tree and it pulled me here. Where are we?”
Hahn scoffed. “You supposedly came through a tree and have no clue where you are. I would’ve chosen somewhere warmer if I were you. And less dangerous. Strange creepies and crawlies live up here.” He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at her apparent ignorance. “You’re in the Far North on the mountain leading up to the Seat of the Demiurge.” There was no spark of recognition. “Y’know, the spirit portal that the spirit-gods are going to use to steamroll humanity if the Avatar doesn’t kick it into gear?”
She tilted her head, as if she was sizing him up. “I’m the Avatar.”
Hahn blinked. He had expected the Avatar to be a big burly man with hulking muscles and a voice that shook the earth. Not…this. Not a southerner who was barely more than a little girl. “Oh.” His response was flat. “Sure.”
The Avatar gaped at him incredulously, as if she had expected a dramatic reaction. Hahn no longer had any theatrics to give.
Hahn bared his teeth as he tossed Kuruk’s spear in the girl’s direction. “Take it then,” he snapped. “Do your job. Tonraq said we have to wait for your return. Surprise, surprise here you are.” Contempt swept over him. He had scaled a mountain just for her to magically appear refreshed and well-fed. “Do your job.” He watched as she fumbled to catch the weapon. She looked pathetically small holding it. Hahn glanced back up at the plateau. He might as well keep walking, he contemplated. He had made it this far. He would continue on with or without, though he was certain that she would follow. He could hear her hurried steps.
“Okay…can we at least start with personal introductions. On the right foot this time. Hi, I’m Princess Katara of the Southern Water Tribe. I also happen to be the Avatar.” Her tone was dripping with both artificial saccharine wit and genuine curiosity.
Good grief. “Hahn,” he bit out, “of the Northern Water Tribe. My dog is Imiqi. She’s useless.”
The Avatar was burning with questions, however to Hahn’s relief she did not ask them. Together they trudged through the snow and stone, growing ever closer to the celestial phenomenon. “Do you know Princess Yue?”
Hahn sighed. “No. I grew up comfortably middle-class. Not a drop of royal blood in me.” Tonraq was technically royalty still. His uncle was the Chieftain. Princess Yue and Prince Kuruk were his cousins, although decades younger. Hahn doubted that he had ever met his young cousins. He’d probably scare them off. “ You probably know her better than I do, considering she was supposed to stay with you all for a year. Until the Phoenix King…y’know.” He grimaced at his own callousness. The chief of the Southern Water Tribe had been her father. She had been present for the coup and seen her father die. She had been separated from her family and wandering up and down the Earth Kingdoms for more than a year. Probably closer to two by now. A sense of remorse washed over him upon seeing her dejected expression. “Sorry, sorry.”
Even though she still appeared crestfallen, the Avatar twitched her lips in an imitation of a smile. “You can say it.” She touched the necklace at the hollow of her throat. “It hurts less with time. And the pain just doesn’t bite the same when you’ve lost so many.” He could hear a quiet sob.
Pursing his lips and turning on his heel, Hahn offered his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He had never apologized so much in his life. Maybe it was better if he did. An irate woman who could bend all four elements probably wasn’t the person to offend. She wiped her tears and Imiqi nudged her hand. “Spending time on the Ice Wall makes you forget about other people’s feelings. If you step on someone’s toes, they just punch you in the face.”
The girl’s expression was blank. “That’s pleasant. What do you do on the Ice Wall?”
“It’s where northern criminals go to rot. Don’t worry I’m not a criminal. My folks thought it was a good idea for a third son. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “the men there harvest ice that repels evil creatures.” It sounded outrageous talking about it out loud to a stranger. Outsiders would never understand. “All because the spirits have decided that we’re worthless little worms.” Hahn chuckled derisively. “Our work is to keep them at bay until you do your job.”
“I’m trying!” She griped and clenched her fists. “No one has given me a guidebook on how to be the Avatar. Everyone keeps telling me to restore balance. I don’t even know what that means!”
“Well I hope you figure it out soon.” He spotted an upraised rock and moved to sit down, allowing his feet to finally stop throbbing. The Avatar hovered. “Stop standing over me like that.”
She sat.
Hahn massaged the tension from the back of his neck. He gestured to the javelin. “And you don’t recognize that thing at all? Does it ring a bell in your past life?” She shook her head. “It’s Avatar Kuruk’s. He’s the one who created the Ice Wall in the first place. This bad boy is the ultimate weapon, kept hidden by every Chief Commander.” He thought of Tonraq and his initial reluctance. “I elected to come up here. But…but I don’t think glory is worth it.”
The girl touched his knee with compassion. “I think every teenage boy wants fame and glory. My brother Sokka has said the same thing. But here we are. Keep the spear. You’re more worthy of carrying it than I am.” She smiled and her face lit up. Hahn allowed himself to return her grin. She was a pretty girl. She would make a fine wife for a man someday. Her optimism was infectious. “We’re in this together?”
The young Water Tribe warrior nodded. “Yeah. We are.”
Hahn swallowed thickly. “I had a friend on the Ice Wall. An absolute basket case. On the day I met him, he socked another man clean in the face.” The memory of his first day meeting Squid rushed back to him.
‘ Some people come here and they look dead inside, like they ain't got nothing to live for or to lose, and they might as well die up here on the ice. Nothing matters anymore, not to them. Those are the ones you stay away from. You don't look like that, though.’
Do I look like that now?
The young woman, sensing his hesitation, nodded for him to go on.
“He was probably my best friend. Or she, rather.” He laughed brusquely. “The most wild, mercurial bastard up here was a girl masquerading as a boy. She got away with it for years.” His stomach churned. “She killed her father. Instead of hanging her, she got sent to the Ice Wall. Everyone failed her. I failed her.” He covered his face.
For a moment there was only silence between them. He doubted that she would truly understand what it meant to be in so much torment, yet Hahn did not know either. They both had been blessed to have families that loved them. Families that would go to the ends of the earth for them.
After perhaps an hour of rest, Hahn pushed himself to his feet and continued their journey. The incline was steeper as they drew closer to the summit. The trees gradually grew sparser and thinner.
Hahn felt as though he could reach up and touch the constellations.
For hours it felt as though the path was winding. First descending back into the trees before rising to a higher point on the mountain side. When they reached a serpentine incline, Hahn looked down. The world below was swathed in a blanket of gray clouds. He imagined that he could see little fires burning down below like beacons of solidarity from his comrades. Far beyond, past the haunted forests of the Land of the Ice that Never Melts was the Ice Wall. And further still was the Northern Water Tribe that shone like a polished diamond, so sophisticated, so perfect. The girl came to his side, her long hair lashing in the breeze. More than once Hahn heard her complain about its length, although she refused his dagger when offered.
Imiqi ran ahead, doubling back with her tongue lolling. Hahn pinched the bridge of his nose, thrusting the spear into the Avatar’s hands. He scooped Imiqi into his arms and grumbled at her sloppy canine kisses. Warm fires and full bellies, he remembered. She deserved that at least.
“Before…before. I had never left the South Pole. I knew the world was big, but I’ve only seen a part of it.” The Avatar began wistfully, “there’s so much that I haven’t seen. You’ve never wondered what Garsai is like? Or Laogai or Arakem?”
“I never thought about it,” Hahn replied. He had a passing knowledge of the rest of the world. There were eight Earth Kingdoms, all of them incredibly diverse. The Air Nomads and the Fire Nation on their islands. “I belong here. I belong to the North. You, on the other hand, belong to the world.”
The girl considered his words. She said nothing in return.
They ventured once more into the woods. Hahn could hear the quiet hum of a stream just out of sight. He raised his head.
He heard no other sound.
Neither the rustle of the leaves in the trees nor the kiss of cold wind. He threw a glance at the Avatar, wondering if she had noticed. Her countenance was pensive, clearly somewhere else. Hahn took a muted step and the mountain rattled beneath him. Dread sank its cold fingers into his spine. Imiqi growled.
The sense of foreboding swept over him in waves. Gone one moment and then returning in the next. Hahn rotated on his heel, scanning the area and the treeline. Nothing. He reached into his shirt, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the ice amulet. “Listen to what I tell you,” he ordered, “don’t argue. Just listen. Whatever bending skills you have, use them.”
Imiqi grew increasingly agitated. Her hackles stood on end. She paced restlessly, growling and barking in turns. Hahn glanced over his shoulder. The zenith was almost within reach. Almost. He hefted the javelin as the Avatar pulled water to her. Let it be a wooly mammoth. Or a whole herd of them. The ground rolled underneath them, infrequent tremors that rattled rocks.
Hahn moved in a tight circle and crouched low. Imiqi positioned herself between his legs and moved in sync with him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
The first fissure appeared some twenty feet away. It made the cracking sound of an egg. Steam poured out of it and more cracks appeared, widening as the broken earth split. It buckled under Hahn’s feet. Hahn silently prayed for any god listening to be on their sides.
Its monstrously long arms and talons appeared first. They were nearly pearlescent when they caught the half-light and briefly Hahn wondered how something so vile could be so beautiful. The demon hauled their hulking body up from the fissure by digging their claws into the soil. The teenagers stood petrified.
It was chimerical. Hahn had never been a creature that was canine and leonine and draconian all at once. It emerged fully from its chrysalis, opening its wings that encased the clearing in shadow. Hahn swallowed the bile that threatened to rise. The monster roared, shaking the earth with its fury and piercing Hahn’s ears. The young warrior tore the necklace from his throat and held it up high in the direction of the beast. His heart sank when it seemed that the creature was laughing at him. It’s a god . It’s a god. Dismay coursed through him.
The Avatar stood frozen in place.
Hahn cleared his mind and readied his spear.
The gate keeping god sprang first. Its wickedly sharp claws missing Hahn by a hair. He darted a few feet away as the Avatar lashed out with a burst of air accompanied by a water whip. The tip was made of ice. Hahn caught her eye. He mouthed for her to stay behind the vile spirit, just as Malina had done before. Hahn danced left and yanked his dagger free from his belt. Closing one eye to improve his focus, he let the knife fly. It struck the god in its scaled chest, awakening its ire. Hahn felt a sense of relief. Angry fighters were sloppy fighters. He ducked as it sprang and Imiqi leapt over his shoulders. She sank her teeth into one of the creature’s wing membranes, ripping a chunk free and working her jaw back and forth.
The girl - Katara, her name is Katara- bellowed with rage as she rushed at the vicious god. She brought down water in a cascade, soaking them all. In the same fluid gesture she brought her hands up and formed icicles that looked more like knives. They rained down, piercing the scales that shielded the monster’s soft underbelly. Fluorescent blue blood and black bile stained the earth.
The aurora had never seemed so bright.
Hahn paused. He met Katara’s gaze and offered a weak smile. Go. Go. Go. He could see her hesitate, eyes welling with tears. He pointed towards the spirit portal that was just out of reach. “Don’t linger !” He bellowed. “Go!”
Katara ran, tearing away from them as if she was carried by the wind. Hahn allowed himself to watch her for a precious few heartbeats.
He watched as the Avatar stepped into the sky, through the door that crossed the threshold of two realms. She faded into the yellow light just as she had come. He turned on his heel, facing the spirit-god. Hahn narrowed his eyes and lowered the spear.
“Come get me, then.”
Their dance began anew. Hahn launched himself in the direction of the spirit-god with a wordless shout. Imiqi slid between his legs, throwing her body upward. Her teeth sank into the creature’s neck just above its collarbone, wrenching it back and forth. Blood spilled freely.
The spirit-god heaved, throwing Imiqi sidelong. The dog yelped, sprawling flat. Hahn wailed. Don’t. Hurt. My. Dog. He dug his feet in the dirt. He could not kill this beast like he had killed Koh. The immense power of the gate keeping god rolled off in putrid waves. Its scales served as armor, like an armadillo-seal’s. It had soft spots though. Its underbelly and the space between its shoulder and collarbone. The thin skin of its snout. He let out a warrior’s wolf howl. Hahn narrowed his eyes and took a running start, pushing his body up. He gripped the spear with both hands and aimed the spearhead at the god’s neck.
A jolt of white-hot pain billowed up through his chest. Hahn hit the ground and rolled, crying out at the pain in his shoulder. He cursed so loudly that he knew his mother would faint if she heard him. Stars danced across his eyelids. He groaned. The pain originated in his belly and rib cage. He ground his teeth and faced the god.
Kuruk’s spear protruded from its neck. Its eyes were open, gazing into whatever realm gods went to when they died. Hahn bid him good riddance. Its claws were coated in red blood.
Dampness clung to Hahn’s shirt.
He looked down.
The spirit-god’s claws had raked across his belly, ripping open his parka and shirt and tearing into his abdomen. The blood flowed freely, dying the fabric of his anorak nearly violet. Hahn pressed his hand against the wound, studying his mitten when it came back red. Would you look at that . “Imiqi,” he rasped, “come.”
The polar dog crept over to him, wagging her tail. She pulled her ears back, rumbling contentedly as Hahn gripped the ruff of her neck. “Come on, sweet girl. Come on.” He yanked the spear from the spirit-god’s corpse and turned in the direction of the yellow-green flare. Just out of reach.
They stumbled over branches, spilling out into the highest point where the heavens kissed the earth. The aurora and the galaxy enveloped within was blinding. Tears rolled unbidden down his cheeks. Hahn limped on, leaning heavily against the staff. Imiqi pressed her body against his leg as they approached the Seat of the Demiurge. A beacon of green light pierced the heavens, shooting up into whatever world lay beyond.
Squid, you psychotic bastard, you won’t believe it. I killed a god. Two, actually. Bet you can’t beat that.
It was cold. So cold.
Hahn of the Northern Water Tribe staggered the last few steps to the portal. He stared unblinkingly. Fear and admiration fought for dominance in his mind. He could taste his heartbeat. Gritting his teeth, he brought the spear down . The ice splintered before shattering, bursting into tiny fragments of light at his feet. Hahn stumbled and fell onto his rear, gasping for air. He clutched at the seeping wound, trying in vain to press his lifeblood back into his body. Imiqi leaned against him and lapped at his tear stained cheeks, whimpering for him to rest at last.
It was cold. So cold.
And he was tired. So tired.
I bought you time, Hahn thought. Imiqi curled around him and closed her eyes. Hahn looked up at the stars and for the first time in months he could see the sun. He smiled. Warm fires and full bellies for us, girl. I bought the world time. I’m going to catch up to you, Tikaani, you freak. I love you Mom. I love you Dad. Hasook, your feet stink. Nilu, wait for me, Hasook, wait for me, wait for me, wait for-
Sleep took him and its touch was sweet and warm.
Chapter 51: The Princess and the Queen
Chapter Text
Yue
The Phoenix Queen was in the infirmary, seated on one of the beds with her son’s mangled face in her lap, brushing his hair aside while the family-employed doctor shaved away the hair that hung over his eye. It had been bandaged, yet now it was oozing red. The queen’s head was ducked low with her face obscured by her hair. She was dressed simply, having traded her robes for a simple dark red shift. In that moment she was not a queen, only a mother.
Yue discreetly cleared her throat as she stepped inside the clinical room. The window was uncovered, allowing light to filter in from the window on the other side of the infirmary. Nurses and servants hovered about like birds, casting nervous glances at the Water Tribe princess. Ursa’s head snapped up at her entrance, her wet eyes unreadable. A river of emotions washed over her face, each one giving into another. “Your Highness,” Yue fought to keep her voice steady as she looked down at Zuko’s head in his mother’s lap. Her stomach turned. The unburnt side of his face was flushed red, his eye twitching. His nose was running and saliva dripped from his mouth until Ursa wiped it away. Yue’s eyes burned with tears. “I wanted to come see him.” Ursa tracked her movements silently, unmoving. The only sound was that of the shears. “How is he?”
“He will live,” the doctor answered briskly. “The skin…we managed to save his eye. We managed to surgically prevent the skin from fusing together. Whether or not he will be blind is still unknown. We shall pray that the spirit-gods are merciful.” He looked up, first at Ursa and then Yue. “If he survives the fever then he will survive the injury.”
“Princess Yue,” the Phoenix Queen murmured at last. “I…” Her voice cracked. She seemed to see Yue for the first time, first peering into her face and then at her body, at her arms and midriff before averting her gaze. She turned her head. “Zuko is a brave young man. And strong.” She stroked the unconscious prince’s cheek. “Leave us,” she snapped at the servants and nurses. “You stay, Doctor Chin.” The others scurried past Yue with whispered apologies. The doctor worked methodically. “Princess Yue, I…I am sorry.” She swallowed. “I did not think, it did not occur to me that my husband would…take an interest in you, so to speak. I…had my suspicions, a woman always knows, but I had hoped that I was wrong. I am ashamed. I knew his nature. I did not condone his actions in the past, but I swept them under the rug for the sake of my own…peace of mind.” Her eyes rose to meet Yue’s. “I am guilty of complacency.”
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe closed her eyes and tried to think of something else. Something other than the glow of the moon filtering in from the window and sadistic golden eyes that twinkled like terrible stars. Something other than heated hands and a weight crushing the breath out of her chest as- “Yes,” she said at last, “you are.” Ursa grimaced. “I did not come to quarrel with you, or relay to you the ugly details of the brutality of your husband. I came to see Zuko.” She moved forward, kneeling at Ursa’s side to grasp at Zuko’s hand. A single tear slipped free. “He did not have to, but he defended my honor. He did what few men would if they had to face their king and father.” His hand was limp and warm. She dared not look at the other half of his face, even though it was covered in white gauze. “I do not love Zuko, but he is my friend and I have very few of those here. And after your mockery of a sacred union, he is my husband. We gave each other something most sacred because of your puppet show.” Her breath hitched. “As I said previously, I have no desire to fight with you.” Yue sat at Ursa’s knee, still holding the limp fingers of the Crown Prince. “You were not there. You didn’t see, you didn’t hear his screams.” Her throat constricted. “ Zuko.” She could not prevent the tears from falling in earnest, and a sense of shame flooded her mind. All this time, through all the slow torment, she had not cried. They had taken everything from her, and she had not cried. Something had been ripped open that night, as if someone had finally broken the dam, and from then she had cried as readily as she breathed.
The Phoenix Queen sighed. “Even if I had been there, it would have done little. I begged and pleaded, I groveled at his feet and cried for him to let the matter fall, that Zuko was young and this could all be resolved if he just let me-” Her hands fell away from her son’s hair as Doctor Chin silently stepped away, his countenance blank. He was a well-trained man whose only intention was to complete the task set before him. With the man’s help, she tenderly rolled Zuko back onto the bed and adjusted the pillow. “I will let you have your time with him. The nurses will be right outside the door.” The Queen looked down at Yue still seated on the floor. Her skin was ashen and her hair loose about her shoulders. Yue knew the woman to be almost forty, yet in that moment she looked as though she had known centuries of grief. Zuko had come from her womb, her beloved firstborn, and now he lay in a sickbed, mutilated at the hands of his own father. She patted her child’s chest once more before leaving the infirmary, silence following at her heels.
Yue climbed into the bed beside Zuko, careful not to jostle him. If he could hear her, he made no indication. He had been dragged away at the conclusion of the Agni Kai, which had ended in a palpable, disturbed silence. The Phoenix King had watched, preening his feathers at his own victory which was no victory at all. It was brutality, it was cruel, no father would even think to do such a thing. His eyes had met Yue’s across the courtyard and as he smirked, she had found herself falling into the memory of an empty room. She was a trapped sparrowkeet, singing prettily while dodging an angry master’s fist all the while.
Zuko looked very small and very young. His chest rose and fell, at times seeming to stop only for his lungs to frantically suck in more air. She leaned against his feverish side. “Azula’s waiting for you to get up,” she whispered. “She doesn’t want to come see you, not like this. She won’t say it, of course. I’m waiting for you to get up. Please, Zuko? Please wake up.”
She climbed off of the bed to fetch the white cloth sitting in a bowl of chilled water. Yue wrung it out and folded the rag, gently placing it on his forehead. She tended to him as best as she could, fluffing his pillow and adjusting his body to avoid pressure sores. Yue gagged as she cleaned his neck where sweat and serous drainage had pooled. The fight had hardly been fair. Zuko had fought as valiantly as he could and the Phoenix King had humored him for a long while. Yue could not forget the way Zuko had fallen from the roof, trapped under his father’s foot. She had wanted to look away but she could not. Azula had quietly worked her lips in a prayer for her brother to get up and surrender. It had been futile. Yue fisted the rag and let it fall back into the bowl, water splashing against her shirt.
The door of the infirmary opened. Yue looked up, eyes ablaze. She had expected to see one of the nurses or the servants, no doubt only entering to finish their duties. Instead Lord Tzumoro stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of him. He, too, wore clothes that were unbefitting of his station. The tunic he wore was not nearly as ostentatious as the ones Yue was accustomed to seeing him in. His yellow-gray eyes went from Zuko and then to her. Yue felt her blood boil. Her dislike of the man had bloomed into unmitigated hatred. The man had been an accomplice in all of Ozai’s chicanery. After learning that Ursa had not been cognizant of Ozai’s wrongdoing, Yue deduced that the man standing before her had been responsible for the maid with the sour tea. Yue bared her teeth in her best courtier’s smile. She resembled Tui, her polar dog, who had taken up residence at the foot of Yue’s shared bed. “Lord Tzumoro, how kind of you to visit Prince Zuko in his current condition.”
He knew everything, Yue thought as the man drew closer. He knew of the Phoenix King’s plan to somehow transcend mortality, and he knew of the Phoenix King’s vile intentions. She had no doubt that he knew Ozai would not spare his son. Lord Tzumoro crossed the distance, nodding respectfully to her. “Princess Yue,” his voice oozed, “I would not be an honorable man if I did not come to see the Crown Prince. I passed the Phoenix Queen in the halls, she mentioned that you were still here.” He gestured to her damp hands. “Only a dutiful wife would tend to her husband like such.”
“I strive to be an exemplary Fire Nation wife,” Yue replied caustically.
“I’ve no doubt,” Tzumoro moved away from the bed where Zuko lay and went to stand before the window. “It was an unexpected tragedy. It has caused quite the headache for me, as you can imagine. I stamp out one fire and another flares in its place.” Tzumoro’s finger tapped absently on the glass. His back remained turned. “Princess Azula can only distract her father for so long, and I’m afraid that certain teas are quite costly to produce.” His tapping became more persistent. “To my knowledge, our Lord Ozai has no intention of visiting Prince Zuko in the medical ward. All the same, these halls are rather quiet.”
Yue quickly caught the meaning of his words.
“You’d have me caged in my room?”
Tzumoro whirled on her in the span of a heartbeat. “Would you rather flitter about like a flower waiting to be plucked? You have no friend in me, child, but heed my words. The Phoenix King has no love for his son in this moment. In truth, the Phoenix King has little love for anyone save himself. Do you truly think you are safe in these walls? Would you like to have your face burned as well? Would you like to have the wrong Prince in your belly? Or to have a kitchen maid season your food with herbs meant to flush your womb with the pleasant side effect of ending your life? My predecessor Lord Takuma dealt with an unfortunate situation like that and I’d rather not be forced to repeat it. Between this fiasco and Lu-Ten I fear that I will be driven to an early grave.” He exhaled loudly. “Like I said, Princess Azula has kept him occupied by her proposal to stop Iroh’s son. Make yourself and that overgrown canine of yours scarce.”
She winced. “But Zuko-”
“There is nothing you can do for Zuko.” Tzumoro turned to face her fully, his voice softening with as much sympathy he would allow. “Except listen to what I tell you.”
Yue managed to nod, leaving the infirmary on her tiptoes. She moved between the nurses and made her way through the inner sanctum, passing faces that wore pity. She avoided them, focused only on the sound of her sandals against the polished floor. If she dared think of anything else then she would fall apart.
Tui leapt to her feet from her alcove, whining in joy at her mistress’s return. Yue absently allowed the polar dog to lick her hands and face, opening the door of the bedchamber that she had grown accustomed to sharing with Zuko. The room felt cold without his presence. It felt more like a prison cell than her original quarters. She stepped inside and moved about aimlessly. She eyed the bed. There, on the day of the Agni Kai, they had…she wasn’t sure what they had done, only that afterwards she no longer felt the phantom touch of the Phoenix King. She had felt safe and protected in his arms in that moment and the feeling had been gone since.
Her mind had become like an anxious moth, never in one place for too long, never settled, never at peace. She examined the Crown Prince’s dual swords that hung on the wall with the blades crossed. His maps and swords and calm disposition had endeared him to her in a way that she had not expected. He was the heir of the most powerful, most cruel, most vile man on the planet, and yet at his core he was just a young man who loved his trinkets and hobbies. And Ozai burned him.
Her dog alerted her to the silent presence at the table in the corner of the room. Azula sat crossed legged with her elbows resting on the tabletop. Though her face was turned in Yue’s direction, it appeared as if there was no light in her eyes, uncharacteristically lost to the world. She was not the type for wool gathering. Yue startled. Tzumoro had made it seem as though Azula had been with her father. How long had she-
“I let myself in,” the firebending princess said. “I don’t require your permission to enter my brother’s rooms.” She rose from her seat, pacing the length of the bedchamber. Tui eyed her warily, no doubt remembering all the times she had dodged kicks and fireballs. Azula did not spare the dog a second glance. Yue could see the tension in her shoulders, the rigidity in her spine that had only seemed to tighten every day since Zuko’s injury. Her movements were tight and controlled, every inch of her frame drawn taut. Azula had raked her hair into a severe bun, foregoing the two locks of hair that framed her face. There was no sign of her usual red lip stain. She turned to glare at Yue.
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe returned her stare with equal intensity. “He’s still unconscious,” she answered Azula’s silent inquiry. “Doctor Chin decided to cut his hair so it wouldn’t interfere with the healing process. Your mother was tending to him when I entered. Lord Tzumoro said you were with…your father.” She swallowed the lump that choked her words. Her relationship with both of the siblings had become strained. Azula had been the first one to draw her out of her rut so long ago on Ember Island; she had molded and folded Yue into a woman capable of defending herself, yet had never failed to remind the older princess that she was a hostage living on borrowed time and generosity. Azula had been adamant that nothing had been Yue’s fault. It occurred to Yue that the younger girl was more savvy in the manners of subtle politicking than her mother would give her credit for. She had stalled for time, distracting the Phoenix King to buy critical time for the tilemovers to make their next moves. “I take it that your conversation went well?”
Azula huffed. “I will take over Zuko’s duties until he recovers.” She absently ran a finger along the table. The unspoken “ if he does” hung heavily between them. “The reports say that the Traitor Iroh’s son is still marching to the Estival Peninsula. Father decided to take my suggestions into account. When he draws closer to Fire Nation soil, we’ll launch an army to smash his forces. By then the Acolytes of Ichiko will be ready to join them. If Zuko is well then I will join them to take down my cousin. If his wife is truly carrying his little dragon, then she’ll have to be killed.”
Yue hesitated. A Fire Nation spy had brought the presumed head of the Phoenix King’s nephew in a lacquer box, covered in tar. The Phoenix King had displayed the gruesome box before desecrating it even further, setting it afire. Only recently had it been discovered that the man was alive and well, and steadily moving towards the Fire Nation with a massive army funded by the Queen of Arakem. Zuko had told her that the man’s wife was pregnant and that the intention was to kill the woman and her unborn baby alongside her husband. Yue felt nauseous. “Wouldn’t it be more humane to keep the child hostage? Technically it would have royal blood through its grandfather. It would deter any of his supporters from launching another attack.” Her imprisonment in the Fire Nation had kept the Northern Water Tribe and its allies in check. Her gut twisted. A newborn baby, trapped in the clutches of the man who had brutally murdered both its father and grandfather. “And it would be considered kinslaying in the eyes of the gods.”
The firebender clicked her teeth. “After everything my father has done, are you really stupid enough to believe that he cares what the gods think? After what he did to the Traitor Iroh, Zuko, and you ? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s killed a blood relative. My father thinks he is a god.”
The older princess blinked away the tears that stung her eyes. She knew Azula’s words to be true. The Phoenix King had made it known that he somehow intended to use the spirit portals at the poles to become a god whenever the eclipse came. He intended to sacrifice her. “And you’ll go along with it?” Her words were bitter. Azula was capricious with her own convoluted sense of decorum and decency. She internally kicked herself at her own foolishness.
Azula picked up a bundle of scrolls that had been resting on Zuko’s table, tucking them under her arm. “I am my father’s daughter,” she responded. The princess lingered. “Yet I promised my brother that I would protect you to the best of my ability. He made me swear it. If it were not for my love and loyalty to my brother, I’d be ambivalent to whatever happened to you.” She paused. “My father takes what he wants. It’s up to you to not let him take more than what he already has.” Her expression was unreadable as she moved to the door, casting one last glance at Yue and the door slammed shut in her wake.
It was five days later when Zuko at last awoke from his comatose state.
Yue was kneeling at his side, fiddling with the hem of her dress. She had been unable to leave him, though he had remained unresponsive. Doctor Chin had said that he had given the prince a high dosage of poppy tears and an extraction of a more powerful opioid to keep him asleep and numb the pain. She knew very little of medicinal practices, though she knew that there was a global demand for the foul smelling opium pipes. It was a nasty trade and though her parents had often shielded her from the more unsavory politics of the Tribe, she knew that her father had been adamant on stopping the trade before it could spread to the North. Medicinal purposes were one thing, addiction was another.
There was a pitiful groan that came from the bed. Yue’s head snapped to attention, turning just as Zuko opened his eyes. His eye. The other was still bandaged. He looked around frantically, body jolting in panic, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He let out a choked gasp. “Zuko,” she cried out, “Zuko! I’m right here!” She gripped his hands as he looked at her at last, face lighting up in recognition. “Zuko,” she breathed, “I’m right here.”
“Yue,” he rasped, “everything hurts.”
She blinked away the tears that had threatened to fall and swallowed the knot that had begun to form in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
For a moment he was silent. He looked dreadfully young on the bed. Half of his face was the kind, handsome young man that she had come to know. The other was mangled and red, and a wave of nausea came over her at the thought of what lay under the bandage. Doctor Chin had saved his eye, but perhaps not his sight. He gave her hand an ephemeral squeeze. “Are you okay?”
She could only offer him a sad half-smile. “I’m fine,” she lied. I will never be fine again. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Even Azula.” Especially Azula. She glanced back at the door. They only had a precious few moments before the doctor would return, and then the rest of the palace would know that he had awakened. His mother would know.
His father would know.
The Crown Prince grimaced as he tried to rise. Yue slid her arm under his shoulders, lifting him with the same care one would give to a newborn. He studied her, scrutinizing her expression, and she saw him crumple in upon himself. “I should’ve known. I should’ve protected you. Even if we weren’t married, you’re my friend.” He was so different from his demon of a father, whom she had fortunately not seen. For weeks it had felt as though he was taunting her, appearing everywhere she turned, a malicious smile on his lips. He had made it known that she was trapped and at his mercy, powerless. “I should’ve known. I don’t…Mother missed it too.”
How many other young women had fallen victim to his brutality? He was a cruel man in more ways than one. She realized she had let her mind wander to the dark place. “You defended me, and I will always be grateful. But let’s not speak of this.” Her voice quavered. Even if she wanted to fall apart, she could not. Not amongst the very snakes that she had been thrown in the pit with, not now. Not ever. She reached for his hand, normally so warm, and he did not pull away.
The door of the infirmary opened and Doctor Chin strode in, his countenance aglow with astonishment. “Prince Zuko,” he exclaimed, “we did not expect you to be so lucid so soon!” He cast a glance at Yue and offered her what seemed to be a genuine smile. “A joyous moment all the same. How are you feeling?” The doctor flinched. “Perhaps that is not the most appropriate question, my lord, my apologies.”
The prince sighed and tentatively reached up to touch the edges of the eye cover. “Take it off,” he commanded, “and bring me a mirror.”
Yue inhaled sharply. “Zuko, maybe that’s not the best idea right now. Maybe you should wait?” She fell quiet at the determination in his eyes, the same fervor that would cross his sister’s. She held her tongue as Doctor Chin retrieved a pair of sterilized scissors and a handheld looking glass. She could see the man’s hands trembling as he laid a hand on the shorn half of Zuko’s head.
Wordlessly the doctor cut the gauze away, gently unwinding the cloth until layer by layer fell away. The apple of Zuko’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Yue stepped back so that the man could have more room to work, wringing her hands as the full evidence of Ozai’s violence came onto display. The injured half of Zuko’s face was forever marred by an angry red scar in the shape of a hand. Individual finger marks spread out like twisted branches, extending across his brow and his cheek. The skin of his eye had shrunken and grown taut, stretching his wrinkled eyelid until it was narrowed. It still looked tender and fresh. Zuko gingerly prodded at the inflamed flesh, hissing in pain. Doctor Chin held the mirror steady as the heir to the Fire Nation stared into it. Without warning Zuko’s hand lashed out and struck the mirror away. It flew across the room and shattered with a screeching crash as shards of glass rained on the floor. The prince was shaking uncontrollably.
“Zuko…” Yue extended her hand. He looked at her, both amber irises piercing her to her core. So he can see again , she thought. With a twinge of bitterness, it occurred to her that it was easier to look at him and not see his father.
His expression morphed into a bizarre contortion of resentment, grief, humor, and despair. He laughed dryly. “Well, no one can say I’m the Golden Prince anymore.” The corners of his mouth turned downward, one side sloping lower than the other. “Leave me alone.” He brushed her hand away. “Both of you can leave me alone.”
“But Zuko-”
“ Leave me alone!” Zuko roared and Yue scrambled to her feet, skittering after Doctor Chin. As the door swung shut, she looked back to see her lawful husband slumped over with his fists curled in his lap, shaking his head back and forth.
“He needs time alone, Princess. You should not take it to heart.” Doctor Chin sighed. “The prince will have to heal. Mentally as well.” He met her gaze. “And you, Princess Yue.”
“I’m fine,” she snapped and quickly regathered herself, offering a respectful dip of her head in the physician’s direction. “I will leave you.” With an artful curtsy, she left the hall, tearing through the corridors as quickly and gracefully as she could.
Azula. She had to find Azula.
The amber eyed princess was in the cloister closest to her rooms, seated amongst the greenery. Her back was turned to the side of the arcade, though Yue was certain that she had heard her approach. Yue inhaled deeply, willing her spine to straighten as she stepped out from underneath the arches and columns. Azula’s head swiveled. Ty Lee was kneeling by her feet while Mai was settled on a towel on the ground. Yue knew that they were a part of Azula’s Acolytes. They looked up as she entered and just as quickly averted their eyes. Yue looked at Mai’s pale hands. What would become of the plan that Mai’s parents had devised? Would they still try to slip her into the bed of a prince marred by his father? A prince who had decided it was better to be horrifically burned as opposed to letting another man harm his legal wife? Would Zuko still remain Ozai’s heir?
“Zuko is awake,” Yue said without preamble.
His sister kept her face neutral. Yue had learned to read Azula well enough that she spotted the way she smoothed her hair when she was apprehensive. “Well. Better late than never. My darling Zuzu has never been able to do anything at a reasonable time.” She looked at her friends and wrinkled her nose. “Leave me,” she commanded.
Without hesitation, Mai and Ty Lee gathered their things. Ty Lee laid a sympathetic hand on Yue’s forearm, her lips drawn in a pitiful half-smile that did not fit her normally jovial disposition. They looked at her as if she was damaged, like she was a kicked puppy.
“Are you going to elaborate or stand there like a dandelion in the wind?” Azula inquired sharply. “Is he blind?”
Yue shook her head and took a seat on the bench. “No, he’s not blind. The scar is still fresh.” She swallowed. “He wants to be left alone.”
Azula scoffed. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. Now the entire palace will be in an uproar while they try and figure out what to do now. My father has not officially denounced my brother as his heir.” Yue wondered if she heard a twinge of bitterness in her tone. “I continue handling his duties and you manage the others.” She brusquely nudged Yue aside, each calculated step leading to the infirmary.
Yue watched her leave, picking at her nails. The palace was stirring back to life. Servants and administrators alike were rushing towards the infirmary. She had no doubt that Zuko’s mother was leading the charge. Yue slipped in the other direction, her head ducked as she made her way through the dim inner corridors of the palace.
She retrieved Tui, her loyal polar dog, who came to her at the snap of Yue’s fingers. The princess thought back fondly of their earliest days together when they were still in the Southern Water Tribe. Tui had constantly disobeyed her, lacking the respect towards her owner that the other dogs had towards their masters. She was as loyal as any of Sokka’s dogs now, as devoted to Yue as Yue was to her. She had licked away Yue’s tears at her darkest moments. If only I had listened and brought you with me. Stupid, stupid. The white dog chuffed affectionately. Yue scratched between her ears before straightening. She had bided her time, playing her part as the exemplary worried wife (which had not been a façade as she had originally thought), awaiting the moment when she was not under the scrupulous eye of the Phoenix Queen or Tzumoro or any of their spies.
Yue darted to the library.
The smell of incense wafted throughout the space. The tables were as she remembered, though fewer lanterns were lit. The tall shelves of timeless scrolls lined with walls, filling the air with the musky scent of age. Yue slipped inside, her eyes scanning the room. Where had she seen it? Tui trotted around her, tail raised high over her back like a flag of pride. Yue ran her finger along the spines of the books, ignoring the seemingly endless amounts of tomes that detailed Fire Lords and war lords and studies of indigenous peoples. Ozai’s nephew has an indigenous wife. If she is really a sorceress, I wonder if she can smite him from where she stands. Yue was certain that if she could, the woman would have done it by now. Yue hoped she was somewhere safe, far away from an assassin’s knife. She shook her head to clear her mind of the distraction. There! With tight-lipped caution, she eased the thin book from where it was nestled between two genealogical tomes. Apotheosis and the study of spiritual transcendence. She had seen Ozai reading it. She was certain it was connected to his obsession with the Seat of the Demiurge and harvesting the power of the portals at the poles. And using her blood.
Tucking the book under her arm, she glanced furtively back at the door. With the discretion of a thief, the princess turned the corner of the library, piling more and more books into her arms. Once she was satisfied that she had enough (and when she could carry no more), she clutched them to her chest. With Tui running ahead of her, they sprinted to her rooms. She slipped inside, locking the door behind her. She closed the curtains.
Flipping all of the books open, Yue began to scan the texts, scrawling notes on a sheet of paper that she found. Her eyes blurred over and the words became increasingly sloppy until her wrist began to ache. Yet still she studied, drawing lines between things that seemed to be closely related.
The Poles held spiritual portals known as the Seats of the Demiurge, of the greater creator. Men and gods could traverse the universe through them. With the power of an eclipse and the blood of a magical entity, a mortal could seize the power of the universe and transcend mortality. A man could become a god. Yue bit her lip until it bled. She had been touched by the moon spirit. A dragon would have been stronger, Ozai had said, but you will suffice . Horror coursed through her. The Phoenix King wanted to rule the world for eternity.
The more she read, the more her stomach churned. She could almost imagine him slitting her throat. Her heart sank. The success of the ritual could be guaranteed by a blood sacrifice-
Of the firstborn child.
Oh no. No no no no no.
Zuko was in danger.
She felt as though she was going to vomit. Yue gasped for air. It suddenly felt as though the library was too hot. She staggered to her feet, swaying as she walked. Zuko was in danger. Zuko was in danger. Tui followed at her heels, sensing her owner’s trepidation. The world pulsed around her until she could feel her heartbeat in her throat. She nearly crashed into a maid who called out her name. Yue burst into the room and kicked the door shut behind her, heaving into a wastebasket of crumpled paper. She had not known that such a dark art existed, much less that anyone would attempt it. She should have known better, she thought cynically. There was no low that Ozai would not steep to.
Folding the papers into small squares, she tucked them under the bed before standing. She smoothed down the front of her shirt and dusted the knees of her pants before adjusting the Fire point tiara pinned in her hair. She could not disappear for too long lest Ursa deployed her spies. Yue rolled her eyes at the thought. The Phoenix Queen had been so engrossed in her own secrets that she had been ignorant of others. What purpose would it serve now? Yue was trapped. Damaged goods by the standards of the Northern Water Tribe. Even if she was to return home to her family, what man would want her? Even though she was royalty, what value would a woman touched by the enemy have?
Could her marriage to Zuko be annulled?
Yue halted, reluctant to enter the throng of people crowding the infirmary. She had no doubt that Ursa or Azula would be in the front, shoving Tzumoro and the others aside. Let them have their satisfaction, she thought. She had been the one at Zuko’s side when he awakened. It was her hand that he had held. She did not love him, not in the way that a woman should love her husband, but her admiration had blossomed for him. A more dignified man did not exist. She had to save him.
She had to save him.
Yue bit her lip. This, she knew, was not something she could do alone. She had no true friends, and Ozai had surrounded himself with men that were unfailingly loyal to him. They would have her head tarred and staked to a spike before they believed her.
“Princess Yue.” Lord Tzumoro’s silvery voice called out to her. Yue’s spine became rigid. He walked towards her with his hands tucked in his sleeves, observing her in that overtly critical way of his. “The whole palace rejoices at the recovery of our beloved prince. Would you not wish to join the rest of the family?”
“I wouldn’t want to detract from the precious time that the Phoenix Queen is sharing with her firstborn. Besides, my lawful husband and I spoke earlier. I had the privilege of being present when he opened his eyes.” Yue answered as she cocked her head with the same probing expression. She offered a courtier’s smile. “I would not dare come between Azula and her brother,” she bit back the stammer that had threatened to fill her voice, “nor our esteemed Phoenix King.” Tzumoro appeared taken aback, his lips twitching at the corners. “I hope they can reconcile soon. We are a united front afterall.”
The Phoenix King’s advisor cleared his throat to conceal his amusement. “You are a clever child,” he conceded. “Those honeyed words of yours disguise the poison within, I will compliment you on that.” The man took a long step, linking his arm to Yue’s as he tugged her back in the direction from whence she had come. “As you know, our Lord Ozai is not visiting Prince Zuko. He is rather occupied with the matter of his nephew. As such, rest assured that even if he were to…take an interest, so to speak, I’ve managed to engross him in a number of different strategies to pour over.” The man fell into a pause of introspection. “Such is the way of our Lord. He enjoys breaking things for the sake of breaking them when he is frustrated with other matters.” He laid his hand on her upper arm. “I am imploring you to do what you must to ensure Zuko is well and sound enough to assume his duties as the Crown Prince. I have painted a picture of a family spat that ended with a reconciliation to preserve the front of unity. The public must believe that. Arakem has turned against us along with those following the Water Tribe boy. If public opinion turned against the family…”
The royal family would implode. It would be ripe pickings for the lost Prince to sweep in and gain the favor of the commons.
Yue inhaled to cover her chuckle. “And how would that serve me?”
Tzumoro threw daggers at her. “In the eyes of the gods and the law, you are the Royal Family. That pretty crown on your head makes you one of them.”
She contemplated his words. They passed the Sunset Garden and there amongst the flowers she caught sight of a man with light hair trimming away at a hedge. Her mind sparked with an epiphany. There was one way to save Zuko. And herself. “I shall try,” she acquiesced and began to move tiles of her own.
——
She found Lady Ursa in one of the private rooms where the floor length windows allowed moonlight to stream in. She was seated alone except for her raccoon dog Ki-Yi at her feet, staring into nothingness as the sun sank over the palace. Yue fiddled with her notes, her palms becoming sweaty. The woman scarcely noticed her. Her countenance was waned and aged and her lips were downturned in the perpetual frown that Yue now saw more often than not.
For a moment Yue halted her entrance. It was a dangerous gambit. “Lady Ursa…Lady Mother.” The words tasted sour on her tongue. “May we have a private word?”
Ursa was startled. She whipped around to acknowledge Yue, a myriad of emotions crossing her eyes in the span of seconds. “Of course, of course.” She patted the cushion beside her. “It seems that sleep has yet again evaded me. I decided to come here. I had hoped that the moon would give me some respite.” Yue noted that she avoided eye contact. Long gone was the enemy that Yue had made. Ursa appeared pained at the mere sight of her. How could she not? “Be as frank as you must.”
Where did she begin?
“I was such a child when I came here. I did not know that women, queens , could be murderers and schemers. I knew so little. And yet... I have withstood the mental torture that you have inflicted upon me. I have not seen my home, my own family since I was sixteen years old. The family I had grown to love as much as my own was shattered by you. You isolated me. You forced me into a marriage that I did not want. Your husband ra-” The word caught in her throat. It was the first time she had thought of it as such. The word felt too strong, like a knife in the gut, and perhaps she had avoided it because she had suffered too much already. Her sleep had been plagued with nightmares of writhing and struggling and pleading to no avail. In some sense the intimate moment she had shared with Zuko had alleviated the sensation of burning hands on her skin, and had allowed her to regain the sense of autonomy that had so cruelly been taken. Yet still, she had compartmentalized the event, had assigned it a name that did not hurt so much. Say it , her mind whispered, say it and shame the devil. “The Phoenix King raped me.” They cringed at the same time, as if the word had been a heavy stone and they were walking on glass. “And yet I am here because I have a duty.”
Yue sucked in her breath and unfolded her notes, laying them in Ursa’s lap. Lips pursed in confusion, Zuko’s mother held them up to the fading light. Her light colored eyes scanned the page, darkening in horror as she read the nefarious plot. “Everything here is true. I swear it on my honor. I swear it on the blood that flows through my veins.”
The older woman’s hands shook. Instinctively Yue covered them with her own and found them cold. To any passersby they had to look like a mother and daughter. “H-how did you discover this?”
The northern princess bit her lip. If she were to continue then there was no going back. “Months ago, before I was wed to Zuko, I accidentally stumbled upon your husband with a Fire Sage and Lord Tzumoro.” She held Ursa’s stare. “I overheard them discussing the progress of…this. When I tried to leave, Ozai found me. I thought he would kill me right there. I swear it upon my life, it’s true.” The Phoenix Queen still held her hands. “Zuko’s life is in jeopardy. I do not say this to seek recompense for the torture I’ve suffered under you,” her tone soured. “But we have to save him.”
Ursa remained silent. She had drifted away to that secret realm of hers. At last her eyes focused on the white haired young woman in front of her. “Zuko is not Ozai’s son,” she confessed with a deliberately slow voice. “He is my bastard with the gardener Ikem.” She dug her thumbs in Yue’s wrist until she formed red crescent moons on the Water Tribe woman’s brown skin. “You found this when you stumbled upon us in one of the Queen’s gardens.”
Yue hesitated. Ursa urged her with a tiny nod. It was a crime punishable by death. “But he might still kill him.”
The queen smirked, her eyes betraying her grief. “Tzumoro will see to the rest.”
The implications of her words and intentions struck Yue. “Ursa…” Her breath hitched. Despite her own feelings towards the Queen, she was Zuko’s mother. She was the Queen. “You can’t.”
Ursa’s hand moved to her cheek, stroking her thumb across the smooth skin. “You do not yet understand the lengths a mother will go to take care of her children. Perhaps one day you will come to know this.” Her smile was both bitter and sad. “Though I pray that you will never be pushed to that point. My husband has kept many secrets from me as I have kept my own. I love him despite his flaws, in spite of him being the man that he is. It is a strange, terrible feeling to love such a man who hurts you just as much as he adores you. But I love both of my children more. Azula came into the world knowing who she was and what she wanted. Zuko…things were uncertain when he was born. I walked on edge, praying everyday that my child would be born with black hair and amber eyes. When he was born and they laid him on my chest for the first time, I knew in that moment that I would die for him. For both of them, many times over.”
A pesky year had formed in Yue’s eyelashes and the older woman brushed them away with the gentleness of a (true) mother. “You are a Phoenix now. I pray that you have learned how to burn and to fly. Now go. Seek out Maya and tell her what you have seen. Then return back to Zuko. Do not leave him until Tzumoro comes to fetch you. It may take days or weeks, but we cannot let Zuko be alone. Do what you must to keep him close to you. You are a woman. I’m sure you understand.”
Yue stilled her fast-beating heart. I would have never wished for it to come to this. As if reading her mind, Ursa patted her cheek. I would not wish this upon anyone. Not even upon her enemy. She thought back to the times Ursa had subtly guided unwanted attention from her, the silent warning conversations between the Queen and her husband. She felt a sliver of appreciation. Pulling away from the woman and tucking the papers into the pockets of her pants, Yue stood and moved to leave the room. She looked back once more at the Phoenix Queen framed by the twilight, the pinnacle of Fire Nation beauty, and she thought that she had never seen someone so sad.
“Princess Yue.”
The young woman turned at the sound of her name. Ursa was staring at her. She smiled. “Aren’t you a smart girl? Haven’t you grown?” She echoed their conversation all those months ago.
Yue dipped her head. People are not good and the world is not kind. Choose yourself above all others. “I’m a slow learner, yes, but I learn. Thank you for everything you have taught me, Queen Mother. I will use it well.”
She found Maya where she knew the servant would be- in the kitchens with the others. Maya was one of Ursa’s girls, handpicked for her discretion and keen eyes. Yue had seen her flitting about like a sparrowkeet. She settled her gaze on Yue upon her entrance, immediately bowing in respect. “Princess Yue! Is there something you need? Are you hungry?”
“No, nothing of the sort.” Yue put her hand on Maya’s forearm. “May we speak cordially?”
The young woman exchanged glances at the others before giving a tiny nod. She led Yue into one of the storage rooms that smelled of herbs, spices and vegetables. Her countenance shifted. “The Queen sent you.”
Taken aback, Yue fumbled for words. “Yes,” she said. “How did you know?” Maya shook her head and gestured for the princess to continue. Yue held Maya’s pale eyes and prayed that she conveyed what she truly meant. “Ursa has been unfaithful to our lord Ozai. For years she has committed adultery with the gardener Ikem. She has presented Prince Zuko as the Phoenix King’s true born son.”
Maya’s bottom lip quivered. Yue could see her swallowing back her grief and confusion. She imagined it was not the first time she deciphered Ursa’s codes. “Terrible indeed. The whole palace will be upended when this spreads.” She leaned closer to Yue until her lips were brushing against her hair. “Do whatever she tells you.”
Yue nodded stiffly and swept away from the kitchens, walking as naturally as she could even though her feet longed to run.
——
It took a month for the rumor to fester and dig its roots in the kitchens and the stables, spreading slowly like weeds. It grew quietly behind closed doors and hushed whispers, away from the all-knowing eyes and ears of Tzumoro. The man had yet to seek Yue out and she thought perhaps that the Phoenix Queen would be wrong. The Phoenix Queen moved about with the same amount of grace that she always did, perhaps even more so. Yue’s stomach turned at the sight of her.
And like a kettle it boiled over.
Zuko had recovered well enough to resume some of his duties as the Crown Prince. The Phoenix King was apathetic to the damage that he inflicted on his son. Zuko returned every night with a wane, haunted expression after meeting with his father. His eyes had lost their shine, his smile no longer genuine. No amount of Azula’s coarse prodding could rouse him, nor Yue’s gentle encouragement. More often than not she saw him staring into the mirror blankly and she wondered what thoughts ran through his head.
The scar had gradually looked less angry after Doctor Chin had applied layers of salves and blended oils to cool the inflamed skin. At night Zuko massaged the concoction on his eyes and each day it faded from red to pink.
Azula stormed in, kicking the door shut as she entered. Yue jolted. “Stop acting like that,” the firebender snapped. “You’re as jumpy as a cat-squirrel.” She looked down at Tui and her brow twitched in what could have been called affection, though on Azula it just seemed that she was less mean-spirited as usual. “Even that mangy dog of yours stayed calm.” She did not move when Tui rose to sniff her hand. “Where is my brother?”
“He left this morning to attend to his project,” Yue answered. Despite her protests and her coy attempts to draw him back to bed (it had almost worked, admittedly better than she’d thought, but her husband was outrageously stubborn and even after making love to her, he had gone to attend the demands of the day), he had slipped away with his crown and armor. “Didn’t he tell you?”
The Fire Nation princess shook her head. “No,” she ground out, “and I don’t see why he would have told you instead of me. He must be smitten with whatever Water Tribe tricks you’ve done to him since your wedding night. It would behoove us all if the two of you kept your vigor at bay. I’d rather not have a half-breed nephew, if you don’t mind. Who went with him?”
“I don’t know. He left before dawn,” Yue trailed off. “Why?”
Azula began to pace the room with her hands behind her back. Yue could sense the silent calculation that was running through the princess’s head, for once purely evident on her countenance. “Zuko isn’t that dense. He has always told me his next move, except for…” she glimpsed at Yue, “except for that. And he took his notes with him? All of them? I still have the others. He took his notes?” She began to rustle through her brother’s desk, moving papers aside after leafing through them.
Yue turned to face her sister-by-law. She had never seen Azula so uneasy, so overwrought in all the time she had known her. The princess had always been unnervingly composed. “Azula. Where is Zuko?”
The young woman whirled on Yue with a twisted expression. “I don’t know, stupid! I just know that there are rumors going around that he is a bastard. That he is the child of a gardener of all people. Do you know what that means? They are not true, obviously, but do you think my father cares about that?” She stacked the papers neatly on top of each other. “If my father hasn’t heard already, then he will. He burned Zuko. What do you think he will do next?”
The white haired princess gasped, though a strange sense of both calm and unease came over her. The Phoenix Queen had moved her tiles. And if Tzumoro was true to his word, Zuko would be safe. She was not sure how they would manage to accomplish it, but Yue knew that Ursa loved her children. She would plot and murder for them. And yet still, what if Ozai moved faster? She dared not think of it. Azula was too much of Ozai’s child to be a part of the rumor. Although Zuko was the spitting image of his father, the recent events had only fueled the fire. “Where’s the Queen?”
Azula squinted at her. “Come with me.”
The halls were abuzz with voices. Furtive glances by the domestics who hung their heads as the princesses passed as if they were in a funeral procession. The Phoenix King’s council members were frantic. Yue had never seen grown men run so quickly, their words unintelligible as the wildfire spread throughout the palace. The palpable tension became increasingly overwhelming until it hung heavy in the air. Azula began to move faster, still maintaining her rigid, perfect, composure. Yue struggled to keep apace. She crossed through the halls of the inner palace and kicked open the doors that led to the temple.
A number of Fire Sages cloistered about, accompanied by palace guards whose expressions were strained. Azula grabbed one of them by the shoulder roughly, her teeth bared like a lioness. “Where is my mother?” She demanded before turning to another of the men. “Where is the Phoenix Queen?”
A pit opened in Yue’s belly.
The eldest Fire Sage refused to meet Azula’s penetrating stare. He looked at his feet as he mumbled. Upon Azula’s threat to rip out his tongue, the man raised his head. “The Phoenix Queen has been arrested, Princess. Ordered by the Phoenix King himself.”
“W-what?” Azula stammered on her words and instantly regathered herself. “Where is she? Where is my father?”
“Queen Ursa is in the temple facing divine judgment, Princess. A crime against the Phoenix King is a crime against the gods. Once she has been tried before the spirit-gods, the judgment will be made. Adultery is a heinous crime.” The Fire Sage looked over his shoulder back to the temple. “The Phoenix King is unavailable at the moment, even to you, I’m afraid.”
But kinslaying isn’t? But murder isn’t? But maiming your child isn’t? But rape isn’t? Yue gritted her teeth to keep her thoughts within.
Azula shoved the Fire Sage aside and stalked to the temple entrance. “My father would never do that to my mother,” she snarled and Yue wondered if she was trying to convince herself. The princess whispered, almost like a child, “he loves her too much for that.”
Ozai loves no one but himself, Yue wanted to say but she knew it would jeopardize her life. Perhaps the megalomaniac cared for his wife more than he cared for others, but true love would never allow such hate and evil to blossom. Her heart twinged with sympathy for Azula. Despite her parents being monsters, despite the image of perfection that she worked so hard to maintain, she was still just a child who loved her parents. It was evident in the way her mouth twisted almost imperceptibly. Yue followed the younger woman as she entered the sanctuary where Yue had been married. The smell of the incense wafted through the space, burning her eyes and settling in her throat.
The Phoenix Queen knelt in the center of the space. She wore a humble gown in the color of a blood orange and her hair fell about her shoulders like a cloak. She had foregone her diadem. Or perhaps it had been taken from her. She wore a proud expression, one of a woman who had toppled dynasties and forged new ones. Her face fell upon the sight of her daughter and Yue. She whirled on the head Fire Sage. “Why are my daughters there?” She seethed and rose to her feet. “You may charge me guilty in the eyes of the gods, but you will not subject my children to the sight of it.”
Yue did not miss the fact that Ursa included her in the list of her children. Her daughters. It was well-played, she could admit. Garnering sympathy in one last power play.
“The gods will decide in the manner in which they see fit,” the priest said coldly. “And they have found you guilty.”
A bolt of blue fire blazed past Yue, catching the robes of the Fire Sage on fire. He cried out in alarm, swatting the flames away from him. Azula had returned to her neutral position, however the way her amber eyes glinted revealed the rage that simmered underneath. She could have killed the Fire Sage if she wanted, and yet she hadn’t. “I don’t know what kind of sudden farce this is, but you will let my mother go. Or I shall kill you where you stand.”
“No, Azula. It must be done. I will be tried for my crimes.” Ursa turned to her daughter. “It must be done. It is the law.”
Yue swallowed. She could only hope that Ursa had devised some sort of plan or ruse. Where was Tzumoro? Where was Zuko?
Azula was boiling. Her hands were restless, aching to maim whomever crossed her path. She remained motionless as palace guards entered the temple, seizing Ursa’s arms with the utmost respect. She watched as her mother was escorted out of the building, condemned by the spirit-gods. Yue was not foolish enough to think that the Fire Sage was truly acting in the way of the gods. He was Ozai’s man, and Ozai had made his decision. The Fire Nation princess trailed her mother with her eyes until the woman and her escort were out of sight. She rounded on the priest, lunging across the distance and snatching him by his collar. The man squeaked as a tongue of blue fire lapped at his cheek. Azula’s long nails were like talons pressed against his skin. “I am not able to kill you in the house of the spirit-gods,” she swore, “but you will not live past tonight.” She let the man crumble as she moved to leave the temple with Yue on her heels.
A storm had erupted and every corner of the palace grounds was flooded with fear. Azula began to run and Yue took off after her, crashing into the bodies that crowded the corridors. The princess blazed across the complex wordlessly, running towards a building that Yue had never seen before.
It rose up black against the cloudless sky, tiered pagodas that were hooked like claws, trimmed in red that sparkled like blood. There were no windows, only an elevated verandah that threw thin shadows on the ground below.
Hanging from the roof was a simply dressed man, his face was swollen and blue. He had light colored hair. From his belt hung a pair of gardening gloves and shears. As Yue drew closer, she saw that someone had carved a singular symbol in his forehead with a knife, the red ink still not dry. Man-whore .
Azula skidded to a halt. Yue nearly crashed into her. She followed her line of sight, her eyes settling on the lone figure on the verandah. The Phoenix King stood high and looked low, regaled in orange and black armor. Upon his head glinted his flame point crown.
The sight of him brought back the memory of purple bruises on the inside of her thighs and tiny blisters on her wrists, and of a pain and dirtiness that would not go away no matter how many times she bathed. Yue pushed the nightmare away, unable to tear her eyes away from Ikem’s body. She bowed absentmindedly when Azula kicked her in the shin. The Phoenix King watched her smugly.
“Father,” Azula pleaded, “these are vile accusations made by the enemy. They only seek to cause strife in the household. We are the House of the Phoenix, we do not listen to the words of lesser men.” She had raised her head. “Surely you don’t believe them. Zuko is your son just as I am your daughter. My mother is the most loyal of all your subjects.”
Ozai remained silent.
Where is Tzumoro? Yue had no love for the man, but Ursa had said he would see to the rest of the ruse. He was the only man who could make Ozai see reason.
A moment too late she noticed him emerging from the adjacent arcade, his face plastered with alarm. Yue felt her heart sink as they regarded each other and she knew that whatever he had organized with the Phoenix Queen had fallen through. Ozai was faster. Ozai was crueler.
The guardsmen arrived with the Phoenix Queen. She seemed pathetically small between them, almost like a child, yet no less striking. Her eyes were cold as they met her husband’s from where she stood beneath him. If she felt any emotion towards the sight of her lover’s corpse then she did not show it. She was ushered up the steps to the verandah where she sank to her knees before her husband and ruler.
The Phoenix King turned to face her and Yue saw what could only be a sparkle of affection and remorse before it twisted into what could pass as grief and anger. “For more than twenty years you have been by my side. We rose from the ashes, together.” His voice was like gravel. “And yet, you betrayed me.” Ursa raised her head to look up at him, once more having one of those silent conversations in a language that only they could understand. “I will give you the honor of choosing the manner in which you wish to die. By the sword, or by the poisons that you have always crafted?”
Ozai knew that Zuko was his son. It was undeniable. Yue watched the exchange. Yet to the Phoenix King, it was unfathomable that his wife, the woman who had poisoned and plotted for him, would betray him in such a carnal manner. Perhaps, in his own perverse way, the man was heartbroken. And true to his nature, he would break and destroy, just as he had always broken and destroyed, until nothing but blood and dust remained.
The sun was setting on the House of Sozin. The mighty dynasty of the Phoenix had begun to collapse.
“ No.” Azula whispered for Yue’s ears alone.
The Phoenix Queen did not look away. “However my lord sees fit.” She smiled wryly. “Do not worry, my morning star. Your best kept secrets will die with me.”
Yue reached for Azula’s wrist, only for the frigid young woman to slap it away. Her fingers were hot. “ Don’t touch me ,” she hissed and her voice cracked. Yue turned back to the raised platform as a passive observer and when she dared to glimpse sideways at Azula, the amber-eyed princess’s facade had splintered. Azula pursed her lips. A lone tear ran down her cheek.
Chapter 52: What Makes a Man
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sokka
“Personally I just feel like you should update your family’s banner, Chief. A Polar Bear Dog with a Phoenix in its jaw just has a certain type of oomph to it, right, Beifong?” Touqa sprawled across the seat on the train, nudging Toph Beifong in the shoulder. She sat beside him with a wide grin. “Meeks, think you could put that fancy bending of yours and make a glacial rendition?”
Much to Kunip and Mika’s chagrin, the young girl had fallen in step with Sokka and Touqa’s antics and now there was never a moment of peace. Suki groaned in exasperation. Kunip sat across from them with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his locs. Mika sighed in resignation. Pauqa rubbed his eyelids. The dogs raised their heads and dropped them one by one. Amarok was the last, narrowing his eyes in canine exasperation.
“I could see it as a painting,” Sokka shrugged, “the orange would really compliment the blue. I’m an aspiring artist in my leisure time, I’ll have to draw it up.”
“Sokka, no one wants to see your stick figures,” Yanik groaned. “Beifong, you didn’t think they were going to be this annoying, yea?” He was the second oldest after Kunip and a master dog handler. Though Sokka supposed he had no choice but to be- his uncle was Bato, afterall. Yanik was also the quietest, hearing much and speaking little. He and Pauqa were brothers, though Pauqa was taller and a tab bit more loquacious.
They all sat in the front car of the army train that was making its way through the Earth Kingdoms, belching out smoke as it went. Gaoling, though small, was a place of tranquility and beauty. Mansions and estates rose out of the rolling hills and blooming trees dotted the landscape. Sokka leaned forward to look out of the window in awe, further solidifying his decision to build a rail system in the South Pole. Taku was still a week away and he was growing restless. The dogs were as well, pacing the length of the train car in a pitiful attempt to stretch their legs. Yanik, an expert of dog training, had taught them a game of find and retrieve that kept them mostly occupied. It started with a ball and escalated to one of the team hiding in an obscure place where the dogs would find them. Desna, the youngest, took to it with great enthusiasm. Yukka, not so much. The war dog looked at the game as if it was beneath him, even after mighty Amarok had begun to play. He sat under Kunip’s feet and gnawed at a bone.
“They’re better than the stuffy old people back home,” Toph said. The young girl had assimilated into their pack as if she had been one of them all along. Sokka, with unspoken embarrassment, could admit that she had challenged his notions of the disabled.
He had seen disabled people before. Some missing limbs, others unable to speak, once he had seen a young boy who was both blind and deaf, who communicated with those around him through the ripples of ice and water. Sokka remembered being fascinated by the boy, who had been perhaps twelve when Sokka was six, when his family petitioned the Chief for the funds for an extraordinary endeavor. They had hoped to construct a bridge in their village with raised directional markers along with maps that could be read with one’s fingertips. Sokka’s father had agreed without hesitation and had sent a group of IcePoint’s finest construction consultants and waterbenders to accompany the family back home.
Toph, inexplicably, was different. Perhaps it was her pugnacious approach to her circumstances, her willingness to seize her life by the horns and flip it over. How many highbrow women would choose to leave their home to go cavort about with a group of rugged young men and half-feral dogs? Katara, probably , Sokka snorted to himself. Who was to say that she wasn’t doing the same thing halfway across the world?
“I bet it’s nice to get a change of scenery,” Suki quipped and immediately reddened. “What I meant is-”
“Cool it, Fangirl, we knew what you meant,” Toph Beifong drawled. She had sprawled out with her feet in Touqa’s lap. Sokka did not miss the way Touqa squirmed with discomfiture, the slight panic in his eyes. Touqa was seventeen, and like the rest of them, found no appeal in little blind girls. Sokka had noticed the way Toph’s cheeks flushed whenever the Water Tribe warrior laughed at her jokes and leaned further into him than what chivalry deemed proper.
It was exacerbated by Touqa’s general mistrust of Earth Kingdom women. It had taken him months to tolerate and begrudgingly respect Suki, and there were still instances where Sokka caught his friend eyeing the Kyoshi Warrior. It stemmed from his mother’s estrangement, and though Touqa often claimed that he was apathetic to the woman’s disappearance, although Sokka could recall moments of their childhood where his friend would watch the other boys with their mothers enviously. Aunts could not replace a mother’s arms just as nursemaids could not placate the way a mother’s kiss would. He and Sokka had joked darkly about their “mommy issues”.
“I’ll kiss the snow when we get back home.” Mika looked out of the opposite window. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen snow and ice. I didn’t think I’d miss it as much as I do. Don’t get me wrong, Gaoling is a great place, but it doesn’t feel right.”
Especially not to him, Sokka thought. Mika was a waterbender. He had learned to bend snow and ice as well as the ocean and lakes of the South Pole. “We’ll be home soon enough. Soon is relative but you gotta love some misguided optimism.” His optimism was based more on logic. They had been away from home this long, what harm could another year do? He glanced down at Desna. He was no longer a pup. His withers were of an equal height with Innik’s and he was almost as broad as Yukka. His mind traveled to IcePoint. What did his home look like now? How many faces remained the same? Bato and the elders were certainly managing the Tribe well, he had no doubt about that, but he would have to acclimate back to his own culture. It had been so long.
Too long.
“I can’t wait to see the South Pole,” Suki chimed in. Several pairs of blue eyes landed on her before casting glances back at Sokka. Suki, perceptively, fell silent.
Touqa narrowed his eyes. “I figured you’d go back to that little island of yours,” he grunted, “the cold of the South might be a bit too much for that gentle Earth Kingdom disposition of yours. You Earth Kingdom ladies aren’t built like our women. We’re made of tougher stuff than most men.” He bared his teeth in a sneer. “Besides, those folks of yours are probably missing you, yeah? And that group of uptight painted ladies you left behind.”
“Touqa, enough,” Kunip interrupted. “Suki’s been with us the whole time. She’s earned my respect. I consider her one of us bloodsworn.”
The younger man wrinkled his nose and Sokka ground his teeth. “Can you guys please just cut it out?” He looked pleadingly at Touqa, whose ruffled feathers began to settle. “Suki and Toph will always be welcome in the halls of IcePoint.” He doubted Toph would be inclined to visit, considering there wasn’t much bare earth for her to ‘see’, but he extended the invitation anyway.
The light eyed Water Tribe warrior glared sidelong at Sokka until the young chief raised his chin. Touqa conceded, letting his gaze drift to the window. The train car seemed to breathe an audible sigh of relief. Kunip and Mika spoke in the secret language of close friends, a conversation solely through vague gestures that Sokka quickly picked up on. The pang of homesickness was beginning to affect them all.
“I’ll let the jibe about our fragile femininity slide. Remember I can wipe the floor with you and still have time for breakfast. Anyway, sounds like you all need to have a good therapy session,” Toph broke the silence, “Tu-Tu, how does that make you feel?”
The young man’s lips twitched as he suppressed his amusement. “It makes me feel like I need to get off of this train.”
Six days would pass before they did, crossing at last through Gaoling and into the kingdom of Taku. It would be another four days before they approached the capital. From what Sokka had gathered, it was a mid-sized nation. It did not compare to the sprawling kingdoms of Garsai and Laogai and Arakem. The capitals of all three nations were said to boast populations of a million people, and all three were touted as the pinnacles of enlightenment. The best and the brightest and the most innovative came from the three giants. Taku, on the other hand, was of a similar size to Banka-Kadi. Sokka could not think of any remarkable facts about Taku. Its ruler was known as the Most Excellent One, which to Sokka was unnecessarily conceited but it wasn’t his place to offer his opinion. The current Most Excellent One was a woman, the first woman in a hundred years to hold the title, if Sokka could recall correctly. Aside from that, he knew very little about her.
Such was the way of the world, he thought as he stepped out of the locomotive. Things became more obscure the further away they were. The Tribes of Si-Wong were unknown to him, they were a reclusive and secretive people in any case, and he doubted that he would ever encounter the desert peoples.
Though he had learned that cactus juice was a rather potent hallucinogenic and the more impulsive part of him wanted to try it just to say he did.
“Oh thank goodness,” Toph sighed in relief as she wiggled her bare feet. “I can actually see again.” Her remarkable ability to seismically sense the world around her never failed to fascinate Sokka. Her fine-tuned hearing was so sensitive that she could hear a heartbeat from a hundred feet away, and along with such an ability came her gift of detecting lies.
Sokka had tested her more than once, and each time she had caught him but the change of his heartbeat or breathing, or even the way he shifted from one foot to the other. It was uncanny, yet he was certain it would be an advantage for their team. He would rather have a lie-detecting master earthbender on his side as opposed to being his enemy.
The capital city of Taku was a disjointed cluster of jagged lines of streets that rose and sank with the hills. The palace of the Most Excellent One was actually the lowest point of the city, the sigil of the Pangolemurs, the cross of a pangolin and a lemur) rising high from the spires of the Most Excellent’s seat. It did not carry the opulence that Sokka had seen in other palaces. IcePoint was an ancient citadel, Omashu was just as timeless and solid. Gaoling irradiated modern prosperity and even humble Kyoshi had a certain kind of rustic charm that lent it favor. The shade of green of Taku seemed more like kombu, darker even than the forest green and turquoise shades of Banka-Kadi. The city itself felt darker and overwhelming, perhaps due to the omnipresent smoke from the rail system and noise of the population it sustained.
The welcoming party of Taku was similar to that of their introduction in Gaoling. Taku’s magistrates stood before them, donning black and dark green armor over their fine embroidered tunics. They were known as the Elite Ones, led by a man of middling height. Sokka immediately felt as though he was a child playing at adulthood, and with a certain pang of bitterness he thought that it was painfully close to the truth. None of the Elite Ones smiled.
Amarok stepped in front of Sokka and the other three flanked him. At least being accompanied by four huge, formidable dogs improved his image. His bloodsworn could be a fearsome sight when they tried, and even Toph had slipped into the universal sort of polite frigidity that made noblewomen so terrifying. Sokka dipped shallowly in greeting. Tough crowd.
“Chief Sokka,” the leader of the Elite Ones spoke at last. He had a voice reminiscent of glass cracking underfoot. “What a pleasure.”
Sokka had long since grown tired of introductions to foreign leaders. How many had he met now? Three, four? At this point he felt as though he would eventually bow and shake the hand of every world leader in the Earth Kingdoms. It would be an admirable feat, to be honest. How many chieftains could say they had met all of the rulers of the Earth Kingdoms? How many chieftains would have the unfortunate title of Wandering Chief? Spirits, that just sounded pitiful. He snapped out the dark pit of his mind and focused on the older men standing before him. “Likewise. Our journey has been long, and I hope that the Most Excellent One will be willing to consider my request.”
The Elite One hummed, his eyes lifting to watch the trains stationed at the lip of the temperate gorge in which Taku lay. It was a kingdom of ravines and ridges, where the towns and cities were connected by arched bridges. The rail system weaved throughout the region like a spiderweb, elevated by pillars constructed by master engineering earthbenders. “Our Most Excellent One has a benevolent ear,” he responded. “Come along. The palatial compound has been prepared to greet your entourage. Our Most Excellent One does not like to be kept waiting.”
Sokka swallowed. “Of course,” he said and his eyes slid over to observe his warriors. Kunip and Mika were savvy enough to keep their faces placid. Touqa’s mouth was twisting in scrutiny. Toph’s face was pointed downward, her toes tapping against the stone. He trusted her judgment, and if she seemed at ease then he was at ease.
One of the Elite Ones slid into a bending stance, grabbing hold of the earth and raising it into a platform. The others heaved along with him and they began the descent towards the jagged palace of the Pangolemurs. The platform rotated slowly as they went, giving Sokka a panoramic view of the city. It held none of the grace and eloquence of Gaoling, nor the wise engineering of Omashu. That was not to say that the place was ugly. It was simply not a place that Sokka would visit for leisure. If anything it made him miss home even more.
The others huddled closer to him as they were bundled and herded into the stone gates of the palace of the Most Excellent One. The floors were cut from white veined quartz and the walls were the same dark green of the kingdom’s banners. It was like any other seat of power, though it was also reminiscent of IcePoint in a way. It was rugged and practical with watchtowers, however, he took note of the way that the buildings had been decorated with gemstones that caught the light. Like Omashu, he got the sense that the keep had been crafted like a geode. Their feet echoed as they passed through the halls. The dogs trailed him, their claws clicking against the polished floors. His team followed closely behind, no doubt remembering the last time they had been invited into a king’s palace.
I ended up fighting some weird rodent abomination. Sokka would rather not encounter another Bumi and his beloved terrifying Flopsy.
The throne room was geometrically shaped, with high ceilings that met in a dome. Sokka saw that the ceiling had been painted with images of warriors slaying monsters and mingling with creatures of myth. A singular sky well was in the center, throwing light upon the rostrum upon which the Most Excellent One sat. The Elite Ones kowtowed before her and Sokka followed suit. With a short grunt, the Most Excellent One ordered them to rise.
She was a small, slight woman, and in a crowd she would be unimpressionable. Sokka was surprised by her youth. He had expected a crone, or even a woman who would be in her thirties or forties. The Most Excellent One was barely more than a girl, perhaps only three or four years older than him. Her eyes were the most remarkable thing about her, each was a different color: one a piercing icy green and the other deep brown. Her lips, though full, were pinched in a frown that Sokka knew she wore more often than not. Upon her shoulders was a sash decaled with numerous tinkling coins. Beneath she wore a plain tunic with dark green along the hem. She sat relaxed, drooped almost lazily across her seat. “Gerel,” she called out, “you make me look bad. I don’t see a single tea cup in their hands. This is a world leader in front of me, and you don’t have the sense to make a good impression?”
The Elite One who had led them flushed. “My apologies, my Most Excellent. I will rectify this mistake right this instant.” He scurried away, followed by his subordinates.
Sokka turned back to the Most Excellent One. They held each other’s gazes for what seemed to be hours. Her hair, which was wavy and dark, had been braided upwards and cascaded loosely down her back. She was a shade darker than her administrators, lightly tanned, compared to their paler skin. Sokka, not for the first time, felt out of place. “Nice palace you got here, I love the decor.” She remained silent. She’s a doozy, he thought. “Sorry for the inconvenience of bringing an army through the countryside.”
“You cannot cross from east to west without venturing through Taku if you wish to avoid Garsai and Arakem,” the Most Excellent One sat up straight. “As such, we’ve seen a number of armies pass through over the centuries. I consider myself quite a bit more amicable than Queen Hodan or Lord Dharja of Garsai.” She scoffed. “But I’m not a grifter. I won’t haggle you out of coin just for the sake of it. Though I don’t dole it out as freely as Gaoling.” She looked pointedly at Toph.
“I’m from Gaoling,” the young earthbender snapped and the Most Excellent One laughed.
“I know who you are, Toph Beifong. I’ve done dealings with Hou Beifong. I am surprised that he let you out of the illustrious little prison that you call a home.” The young woman sneered as she turned back to Sokka. “What did you have to do to get a loan? Take this pup with you? Sell your soul? Or promise to take her home to your snowy country?”
Toph clenched her fists.
Sokka glanced back at Suki and Kunip. There was obviously some history (and animosity) between the queen and the noblewoman. The young girl had turned to stone, her eyes downcast, a scowl twisted on her lips. The ruler of Taku’s heterochromatic eyes pierced the foreigners. At that moment the Elite Ones chose to make their re-entrance with a number of servants at their heels. “Toph has been a worthy addition,” he said slowly, “and it has been a great honor to settle an agreement with her family.” He was getting so good at this politicking thing. At this point he could swindle a merchant out of his livelihood. “It is my hope that I can do the same with you. I appreciate King Bumi’s support, but two thousand men won’t defeat the army at the Estival Peninsula.”
The Most Excellent One huffed. She stood and Sokka saw that she was much smaller than he had thought. As the servants passed peace offerings to the Tribesmen, she paced circles around them. “No,” she said, “it won’t. As it stands, I am sure you are tired. Gerel, accommodate them.”
It seemed that Gerel, despite his title, was little more than the woman’s personal assistant. “Of course, Your Excellence, of course.”
Suki lengthened her stride, grasping Toph’s elbow until they were apace with Sokka. “Are you going to tell us what that was about?” She whispered fiercely.
The young earthbender was silent, no doubt judging the distance from the men of Taku. “Her name is Tsolah. She’s the niece of Hou Tei-Lin,” she responded, “she’s as prickly as a summer cactus.” A sour look crossed her face. “The whole clan of them are.”
Great. Just great.
“Well,” Sokka quipped, “doesn’t get any better than this!”
The quarters they were given were neatly assembled into hexagonal walls in the subterranean sanctum of the palace. It was where the Most Excellent One’s private apartments were constructed, and the Elite One Gerel explained that in the times of war, the rooms could be closed off. They should be glad there are no waterbenders close by, Sokka mused, they could literally wash them. They had done it before. In Sokka’s history lessons as a child, he had learned that an Earth Kingdom had tried to annex Whale Tail Island. The South’s warriors had bided their time, patiently waiting as the earthbenders constructed their keeps and compounds before they launched a counter invasion. They had flooded the entire island in an event known as the Cleansing of the Island, which was a pretty noteworthy name in his opinion. Pretty unforgettable. It was said that the bones of the earthbenders could still be found under the sands on the shores. The Chief who led the attack had gone down in history as Nukapparoq the Inundator.
As they dined with the Most Excellent One, feasting on imported cow fish and cactus salad from the Tribes of Si-Wong, Sokka thought of the name he would give his father when he wrote his name in the record of Chieftains. Hakoda, the One Who Not Bend. Perhaps he would be known as Sokka the Wandering Chief, or hopefully Sokka the Innovator. That had a good clean ring to it.
Tsolah, the Most Excellent One, ate without acknowledging them. In the ten days since their arrival, she had sequestered herself in the bowels of her chambers in the lower levels of the castle. Kunip, Touqa, and the others had been treated to the finery befitting their positions as the Chief’s closest men (and women), and Sokka had received every amenity owed to him as the ruler of a great nation. She chose the eleventh day to join them at the evening meal, as stoic as always. “I’ve heard a number of songs from the west,” she lilted, “the dragon man heads south and west. I do not call him the dragon man because of his banners.” She caught Sokka’s baffled expression and bared her teeth. “He has real dragons, two to be exact. And almost thirty thousand Arakemeti warriors marching under his flag.”
Sokka reeled. He had presumed that the Bird King’s nephew had been killed in Arakem, yet now apparently he had managed to steer the Queen of Arakem and he was very much alive. He bit his tongue to mask his surprise.
Taking note of their confusion, Tsolah went on. “Oh yes, apparently he managed to survive and hide in the desert with the Queen and his dragons. He shares the same motives as you, it seems. Not only that, the Phoenix King has married off the Northern Water Tribe Princess to his own son.” She steepled her fingers. “Do you know what that means for our esteemed Phoenix King?”
Half of the world had turned against him. Omashu, Kyoshi, Gaoling, and now Arakem- one of the strongest countries in the world- had switched their coats, as well as the Water Tribes. The majority of those had sided with Sokka. The motives of the White Lotus dawned on him. If they combined their forces, then the Phoenix King would have no chance. Throw in the Avatar (his sister, of all people), and Bird Brains was scrambling for cover. He had married Yue to his own son in a last ditch effort to keep the Northern Water Tribe from becoming more active.
“Nothing good,” Sokka replied, “and you?”
The Most Excellent One narrowed her eyes. “The rest of the world presumes that I have already laid my card with the Water Tribe. The dragon man has the might of Arakem and two dragons to legitimize his claim. And you?” The venom of her words caused all heads at the table to snap up in bewilderment. Sokka’s eyes widened as Tsolah’s lip twitched. “What do you have besides an ever bloating debt and the promise of your ore and ice? You are a little boy with barely any hair on your chin and none on your chest.”
“You’re not much older.” He retorted and kicked himself mentally. Sure, go ahead and offend her even more while she’s on a rant. Smart move, Sokka. They don’t call you a genius for nothing. “Aaah, what I mean is that we are a new generation of leaders. We can build a new age that benefits all of us.”
Her face contorted into a snarl of offense. “I have ruled Taku since I was ten years old. You, on the other hand, have spent more time away from your country than you’ve spent ruling it. My uncle Hou Tei-Lin told me about you. He said you are a smart, charismatic man with plans to empower us all. Your sister, the Avatar, also seeks balance. It would be foolish of me to lay my game piece on the losing side of the board.”
The entire room exhaled in relief. Not to toot his own horn but he was pretty charismatic. Sokka offered a smile and the young woman reciprocated, the first genuine one that she had given him since his arrival, and Sokka knew he would sleep in peace.
They finished their meal in a comfortable quiet. Tsolah rose to her feet, dipping her head to Sokka as she exited the dining hall, the tap of her footsteps echoing behind her.
Sokka led his entourage back to their own quarters, unable to suppress the grin that was spreading across his face.
“She’s lying.”
Suki and the young men stopped in their tracks. Toph stood rooted in the center of the hall, her feet pressed flat against the ground. Though she could not see, her eyes burned with an intensity that set Sokka on edge. “She’s lying.” She crossed the distance. “Sokka, we have to go.” Toph tugged on his hand, nearly dragging him into his rooms. “We have to go.”
“What are you going on about, Beifong?” Touqa inquired as he plopped down on Sokka’s bed. The dogs looked up at the disturbance.
Toph Beifong looked flustered, which did not suit her, nor was it an expression that she wore regularly. “Tsolah is lying . She’s not going to support you, the same way her uncle refused to join you. She might not be on the Bird King’s side, but she’s not on yours either. Listen to me, Snoops, we have to go.”
Suki picked at her nails. “Toph is right, Sokka. There was something off about her. Mika, you told me that you felt it, too.”
The waterbender nodded. “It’s true, Sokka. We’d be wrong to trust her.”
Sokka sat beside Touqa. His ears had begun to ring. He trusted Toph. He trusted Suki. He trusted all of his men. I just want to go home and play with my dogs and eat my seal jerky and just take a nap. He hung his head and pressed his palms against his eyes to alleviate the burn that was beginning to surface. He wasn’t that pathetic to cry just because he didn’t get his way. Sokka hadn’t gotten his way in forever. That was the way of the real world. It dragged you through the mud and stomped on your hands when you tried to crawl out. Katara was the optimistic one. She saw the bright and the good in everyone and everything. Sokka exhaled and took in the circle of warriors who had traveled to the ends of the earth with him. By oath and sword.
“Pauqa,” he called out, “go let the conductors and commanders know that we’re leaving as soon as we can. Kunip, Touqa, go with him. Mika, you and Suki scope out whatever information you can get in the meantime. Yanik, I’m trusting you to watch Toph’s back-” he held up his hand, “I know you don’t need anyone watching you,” he cut her off before she could argue, “but Tsolah obviously hates your guts. I’d rather not have them spilled on the floor. Or mine, for that matter. I rather like my guts.”
Yanik gave a curt nod and they all dispersed, leaving Sokka with his dogs and his thoughts. He looked out of the window and gazed at the moonless sky, wondering what constellations Katara was seeing, what foreign sky she was staring up at, and he wondered if she was thinking the same.
——
Tsolah the Most Excellent One watched them as they departed, her hands clasped behind her back. The train rails were above the city, and as the host was once again herded aboard, her head was craned to watch the process. The rail lines ended at the outskirts of Taku, after which the army would march on foot to the Estival Peninsula.
Sokka wasn’t exactly sure where the Bird King’s nephew was. He knew that he was somewhere between Arakem and the coast, making his way over the continent. His journey was shorter than Sokka’s own. Had they not journeyed first to Gaoling, they would have made it to the peninsula by now. He stood beside the Most Excellent One, observing her from the corner of his eye.
“Best of luck to you,” the young woman said quietly. “Perhaps our paths will meet again at the table of great leaders.”
“Let’s pray,” Sokka replied with the diplomatic charm of a man twice his age. As the final soldier and crate was settled and the trains blew billows of smoke, he bowed and grasped her cool hand in the Water Tribe salute.
And then, once again, they were gone.
Two thousand earthbenders and the martial caravan moved so slowly over land. To their benefit, the climate of Taku was mild and it rained little. The sloping hills gave way to flat land dotted with forests of deciduous trees. They covered decent ground thanks to the expert knowledge of the forces division leaders. But Sokka missed the days when it was just him and his warriors, when he didn’t have to confer with gray haired commanders and lieutenants that saw him as a child playing at war. He missed the days when he didn’t have to scribble daily reports and expenses, when he didn’t have to think.
Those days were long gone. When he returned home, the responsibility would only grow tenfold. He was the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Every man, woman, and child would look to him for guidance and protection. I thought I had more time.
He came back to the present, aware of Suki’s warmth at his side, the way the gentle brush of her thigh against his made his heart flutter. The campfire crackled and the moon twinkled overhead. For as far as he could see, the earthbender camps stretched out like dots on the skyline. That was one advantage they had over other benders- who needed tents when you could build your own structure and disassemble it when the march continued?
Lord Haoran sat across from him with Touqa on his left and Mika on his right. He was perhaps the youngest of the regiment leaders, around the same as Kunip, with ink black hair that hung about his shoulders. Sokka wondered how much time he spent in the mornings combing it, and he figured that the man’s beauty regimen would challenge any teenage girl’s. He had earned his valor the way most young noblemen did:
Through tried and true nepotism. It never failed.
It didn’t matter what you knew, Sokka jested internally, but rather who you were related to.
“I estimate we will make great progress, Chief Sokka,” he said, brown eyes reflecting the dancing flames. “Our scouts bring news from the city of Dhar-wa. The Phoenix King’s nephew has split his forces in half. One proceeds as expected west and south. The other, which he leads himself with his dragons, has turned to make a much faster course.” Lord Haoran set his empty bowl on the ground by his feet. “It is highly likely that we will reach the peninsula at the same time.”
The Order of the White Lotus had covertly forced him into a position where he had no choice but to parley with the Bird King’s nephew. There were rumors that he was even more of a psychopath whose dragons had scorched a Fire Nation outpost and left no survivors. Why the graybeards thought he would be a decent guy was beyond Sokka’s comprehension. Even Ozai wouldn’t unleash fire breathing weapons of mass destruction-
Actually, yes. Yes, he would. In a heartbeat.
“If I had known I’d be speed racing a dragon, I’d have stayed home,” Toph deadpanned. “Don’t get me wrong, I still want to kick some firebender butt, I just left my dragon resistant armor at home.”
“Just douse him with that water of yours, Meeks.” Touqa chimed in. “All that steam would make a nice sauna.”
Lord Haoran looked terrified. Sokka sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. The dynamics of his friends would be seen as uncouth and bizarre to outsiders, but he had long since grown used to them. Even Toph, who was rough around the edges, but he had learned to count her amongst the rest.
“Maybe he can’t be that bad,” Sokka mused aloud as Lord Haoran retired, “if the Order of the White Lotus is backing him then they obviously see his potential. He’s the lesser of two evils at this point.” It means that they saw the same promise in the Prince as they did in him. “It would actually work in our favor. The Air Nomads, both Water Tribes, and most of the eastern Earth Kingdoms are opposed to the Phoenix King. At this point he’s probably licking boots so the world can recognize his legitimacy.”
“But what about Princess Yue?” Suki asked. “She’s trapped in the Fire Nation, married to the Phoenix King’s son. Any wrong move and she’s the first one getting hurt.”
He sighed. Why couldn’t he have been born in a time when the world was normal. Here he was, halfway across the world, headed to potentially face a man with a dragon, and his sister was the Avatar , and then he had to somehow find a way to save Yue and - spirits, why can’t the princess save herself in this one?
I’m having an existential crisis. It’s really happening. He could feel the gray hairs sprouting.
Sensing his frustration, Kunip brought attention to himself by standing. “Alright, Chief, we’ll let you get your beauty sleep. Suki, you make sure Beifong doesn’t make anyone cry tonight. If she insults Touqa one more time, I think he’s just going to bury his head in the dirt.”
“Aye, I would’a never thought a twelve year old could be a bully,” Touqa sniffed.
Toph grinned toothily. “I’m going to make you regret your stupid comment about Earth Kingdom women until the day you’re dead. Your boots are unlaced, by the way.”
The Tribesman looked down and snorted. “Didn’t work this time because they actually were.” He smiled and Sokka figured that he must’ve been in a sour mood when he had been so uncouth.
Suki leaned shyly into him and Sokka felt his skin warm. For situational and propriety’s sake they had not spent any private moments together besides their stolen kisses and the instances where they were able to hold each other’s hands. His warriors eyed him warily, and more than once Kunip had cautioned him to proceed lightly.
Mika stamped the fire out as they separated, cursing as Pauqa playfully leapt onto his shoulders. Kunip reprimanded them as Suki and Toph headed to their shared tent. For a moment Sokka sat alone and watched the embers die. After what seemed like a decade but was truly an hour, he kicked dirt over the dying embers and ashes and retired to his own pavilion. Sleep was slow to come to him. He laid on his back with his head resting on his arms, tracing each thread of the tent ceiling and counting the gaps in between. At last he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing and felt himself fall away.
The air grew hot.
The world exploded.
Thunder clapped, followed by the sound of stone shattering and crashing, shaking the earth as it fell. The terrible cacophony of screams rose up. Sokka’s eyes snapped open and he reached for his boomerang, tripping over his own boots as he tugged them on.
Specks of fire weaved throughout the campground, flashes of green and the glint of swords in the dying light. The ground heaved and rolled. Plumes of smoke appeared on the horizon. Sokka saw a tiny beacon of light sparkle and air rippled around it. Thunder rolled once more and a burst of flame lit the grass.
Men cried out. In the darkness Sokka could see them leaping into bending formations, hurling boulders at the unseen enemy. The animals were screaming, ostrich-horses tearing free from their tethers and the dogs barking as they rushed to their master’s side. The sky was clouded with smoke.
Suki was the first to reach him, trailing by Pauqa with Toph slung unceremoniously over his shoulder. He set the earthbender down. Yanik and Touqa had already grabbed their spears, skidding to a halt with Kunip bringing up the rear. All of them were in a state of undress, half buttoned shirts and haphazardly tied boots. “What’s going on?!” Suki had her sword and war fans strapped to her waist. “What is that?”
She pointed as the beam of light appeared once more, followed by the sound of rocks falling like shrapnel.
An ostrich-horse barreled towards them. Lord Haoran, accompanied by Lord Chang, sprang free from the saddle. Lord Chang’s face was covered with soot and his eyes were wild. He waved his arms frantically as he tried to find his voice. “ Taku!” At last he managed to say as he crumbled to his knees. “Taku and firebenders!” The man coughed and gagged as he pointed in the direction from which he had come. “A whole squadron of swordsmen, at least eighty, and two firebenders.”
“But Chief Sokka,” Lord Haoran broke in, “these are not firebenders as we know them. These are demons. They are firebending with their heads!”
Sokka sputtered. “I beg your pardon?” He stammered over his words as another explosion lit up the night. They ducked for cover even though the violence was still far away.
Toph had gone silent, her feet sliding across the dirt. “Soldiers from Taku,” she confirmed, “Chang is right.” She winced at another explosion. “Tsolah’s men. Our army can wipe the floor with them, but those firebending freaks are going to take us out!”
“Haoran, Chang, eliminate the earthbender threat.” Sokka leveled his breathing to hide his panic. Eighty against two thousand was child’s play. He had never heard of firebenders using their oversized heads to bend, and perhaps that was what made them so terrifying. He craned his neck. The blasts were coming from above, which meant they were somewhere in the hills. “We’re going after those freaks.”
“Now and forever, chief,” Touqa gripped his forearm. He tapped the butt of his spear on the ground. With the soot of the fire he drew the symbol of the Water Tribe warrior on his forehead.
With the devastation framing them, the young men looked like heroes from an elder’s tale. Sokka nodded resolutely.
He willed his fast beating heart to settle and then he ran forward.
Toph led them through the haze of smoke, skirting one way and the other with frightening speed. She bent boulders and stones out of their way and shielded them when shrapnel rained down on them. “They’re on the hill!”
Sokka narrowed his eyes and focused on the hill. There, just as she had said, two dark figures perched on an overhang. They were bending in tandem, first one and then the other. Their targets were seemingly random, causing the host to scatter. Sokka paused. “Toph, how fast can you take us up? Correction, can you be a badgermole?”
The earthbender turned to face him. “We didn’t earn that family sigil for nothing,” she said and brought her foot down. Her hands worked in rough circles and the ground under their feet began to crumble and rotate. She punched the ground and it caved in, plunging them down into darkness. The sky disappeared as the hole closed above their heads.
“I’ve been blinded!” Touqa shrieked.
“Poor choice of words,” Suki’s voice rang out.
“Join the club.” Toph gibed as she punched out a tunnel through the earth. “Snoops, grab my shoulders. Everyone else, do the same to the person in front of you.”
Sokka rested his hands on her small shoulders. “Toph Beifong, if I’ve never said it before, I’m so glad you decided to join us. You are awesome!”
Even in the darkness Sokka knew that she was smiling. “I am, as you should know, the greatest earthbender in the world! Once I learn how to metalbend I’ll be able to walk the Bird King like a dog.” She punched and jabbed her way through the earth, alternating between drilling motions and her customary jagged hand motions. The ground rumbled overhead. She tore her arm away from Sokka’s grip, thrusting her hand above her head. The rumbling quieted.
She carved a path that sloped skyward, sweeping her feet to ease the grade of the tunnel.
“So what’s the plan when we’re out of here?” Toph had halted. Gravel and dirt rained down on their heads.
“There’s two of them, so we split up. Toph, Suki, Kunip you come with me. Mika, you go with Touqa, Pauqa, and Yanik.” Sokka whistled at the dogs. “Yukka, stay. Desna, Innik, stay. ” He shot a glare down at his feet where he knew the dogs were. “Amarok, you hard-headed grouch, stay . Toph, I need you to just cut loose. Do whatever you want.” I hope I don’t regret that. “We’re all going to move around what she’s doing.” He sent up a prayer to the spirits of the Southern Water Tribe and hoped they could hear him even here, even so far away.
Toph cleared her throat and spat on her hands. “That’s all you had to say.” She spun on her heel and pulled up . The ground followed her command and they shot upward, bursting to the surface. With frightening speed she launched a massive slab in the direction of the firebenders. “Alright, let’s get moving!”
She fell into a chaotic display of earthbending, her hands moving from left to right, clenching into fists and releasing bombs of shrapnel throughout the outcropping. With her foot she caused the ground to roll.
As Haoran and Chang had said, there were only two firebenders, but they were of a sort that Sokka had never imagined. The first was a hulking beast of a man with a bald head and dark beard. The second was a slender woman who had to have been seven feet tall, her hair shaved on the sides. Both of them had the same red tattoo on the middle of their foreheads. Thrown off kilter by Toph’s bending and the appearance of the warriors, they stumbled backward.
With a roar that was too loud for her small body, Toph brought her arm down in a clean chopping motion just as the first firebender regained his composure and inhaled. Sparks appeared at his forehead before the beam of superheated air pierced through the night. It crackled. Toph kicked her foot and tossed her companions out of the way just as the man’s attack almost landed true. Sokka leapt into action, rolling onto his stomach and letting his boomerang fly just as Suki threw herself in the direction of the female firebender. The thunderous footsteps of his bloodsworn rang as they charged forward with wolf howls. His boomerang came back to him. He had flung it too wide and had missed his target.
Mika pulled water from the nearby stream and added it to the water in his canteen, bringing his arms up to form a shield.
The combustion benders fired blast after blast at the young men, though it was evident to Sokka that they were not using the full extent of their power. Doing so on such unstable ground would endanger themselves, with Toph’s erratic bending to boot. Pauqa slid in behind the man, riding on one of Toph’s waves, and brought his club down. The man turned, transitioning into traditional firebending as he swatted Pauqa away.
Yanik rolled forward, slashing out with his sword. Sokka pushed himself to his feet, joining Kunip as he jabbed at the first firebender.
Suki and the others were engaged with the tall woman. She was tied in hand to hand combat with the Kyoshi Warrior, who was using her fans with bruising force against the woman’s wrists.
There was the telltale sound of the imminent combustion. Toph swept them up in a ball of stone, encapsulating them as the air shimmered and burst into a thunderous explosion. Sokka panted, and with sickening horror he realized that one of them was missing.
“Where’s Pauqa?” Yanik exclaimed, his voice rattling. “Where’s my brother?”
Toph disassembled the sphere and hurled ball after ball at the benders. Sokka could see that she was shaken, her fingers unsteady but relentless.
In the fray Sokka heard a pained cry that rose higher and higher still until it filled the night. Yanik had collapsed to the ground. The sobs came from him, kneeling beside a singed circle where the ground had been charred. Bile rose in Sokka’s throat. Pauqa was too slow.
In the intense heat of the combustion bender’s assault, the young man had disintegrated.
And yet there was no time to stop. They renewed their battle, perhaps with even more fervor, enraged at the chuckles of the firebending assailants. “Let’s go, Meeks!” Touqa charged forward with his spear with an animalistic snarl, followed by the waterbender and Kunip towards the woman.
Touqa and Kunip both moved as if they were dancing, darting in and jabbing with their spears before leaping away again. With his sobs having turned into fury, Yanik did the same while Mika lashed out with whips of water from the stream, slashing at the woman’s ankles. She stumbled on her own feet, flailing her arms in an attempt to regain her balance. Mika bared his teeth as he drew his arm back and snapped it forward with a vehement string of curses. The water shifted to a disc ice as it cut cleanly through the combustionbender’s ankles, leaving her feet planted as her body fell away. Her cries filled the night. Without pause he lashed out again and again, each strike opening up gashes of blood in the woman’s body. She must’ve died when Yanik’s spear pierced her throat and the rest was (justifiable) overkill, but Sokka wasn’t sure. He had never seen Mika so furious, so driven by primal rage that he would not rest until the combustionbender was dead. Transforming the ice into water once more, Mika hurled her body over the edge of the outcropping.
They all turned to face the last firebender. “I always thought that she was a weakling. When Queen Tsolah summoned me, I assured her that she had hired the best,” he taunted before he inhaled, breathing out an attack that shot past them and caused them to scatter.
Toph kicked a barrage as the firebender darted between them, dodging their spears and blades as he made his way towards Toph. The earthbender skirted out of the way, but the man was surprisingly quick. She stumbled with a shout of alarm, losing control of her bending as she scrambled to regain her footing.
The combustionbender chose that moment to attack. His breath was audible as he aimed at Toph. Suddenly he paused. “The Phoenix Queen sends her regards.”
Suki dove forward, wrapping her arms around Toph’s waist. They rolled and the young woman shielded the girl with her body just as the hyper focused explosion struck where they had been just heartbeats prior.
“Suki, no!” Sokka cried out, throwing his body in an attempt to drag the two Earth Kingdom girls to safety. His ears rang. His head throbbed.
Mika tossed a javelin of ice, impaling the grotesque abomination of a firebender through his gut. Kunip had done the same with his spear, yanking it free with a kick to the firebender’s spine. Touqa dealt the finishing blow with a clean strike.
“Chief!” Touqa gasped and through the tunnel consuming his vision Sokka saw his petrified expression as he ran over to him. The others followed suit, all of them sharing the same look of horror. “Chief! Spirits, spirits, Mika, do something!”
What’s wrong? Sokka felt as though his thoughts were slurred, a strange lightness in his limbs, and the sudden urge to fall asleep. He tried to open his mouth and found that he could not speak.
Mika’s face hovered like the moon. “Sokka,” he choked on his tears, “keep looking at me, chief. Don’t look down.”
He could hear Suki wailing.
Sokka, naturally, looked down.
There was a bloody mess where his right leg had been. He had not felt the pain, nor the impact of the near-molten shrapnel that had struck him. It felt as though he was floating outside of his body. With detachment he studied the wound. Only his knee and thigh remained, cauterized by the heat of the combustion. It was an admirably clean severance. His mind would not allow him to scream. “Meh. It’s not that bad,” he slurred. “I’ve seen worse.”
The last thing he heard was Toph laughing raggedly. “I can’t see, and even I know it’s bad, Snoops.”
He chuckled and closed his eyes.
——-
The first thing he heard was the buzzing hive of different voices in different pitches and volumes. Some were soft and concerned. Others were accusatory and loud. Another was trying its best to serve as a mediator to no avail.
“We’re lucky he’s alive!” That was Kunip somewhere on the other side of the room. “We lost Pauqa and seventy soldiers. By the grace of the spirit-gods we were able to hightail it out of Taku and get him to an actual city that’s safe here in the unclaimed lands. The army is going to arrive any day now. If it wasn’t for Mika…”
“I thought I was going to lose him,” the waterbender garbled. “I thought I was going to lose him. I couldn’t lose Pauqa and him, too. I couldn’t. Yanik, I promise we’ll have a proper warrior’s send off when we’re back home.” He was nearly whispering.
“But you didn’t lose him.” Suki was closest to him, right above him. “I owe him my life.”
Touqa was perhaps the loudest. He barked out a grating laugh. “Aye, well, yeah you do. Beifong handled herself just fine. If it weren’t for you, Kyoshi , Sokka would be whole.”
Whole.
Whole.
Whole.
“What are you trying to say?” The Kyoshi Warrior took a step away from Sokka on his cot. “That I’m the reason why Sokka got injured? That I’m the reason Tsolah and Taku sided with the Phoenix King? They probably planned it from the second we left Gaoling! And you’re trying to say that it’s my fault Sokka got hurt?! Ever since I’ve joined you, you’ve been aching to find some reason to hate me!”
The young man raged. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.” Sokka could hear him crossing the floor.
“Touqa, enough!” Kunip’s voice silenced them all. “Suki is one of us. She’s always been one of us. None of this was her fault. Or anyone’s fault. Taku was conspiring with the Phoenix King before we stepped foot here. Sokka is whole.”
“He’s also awake,” Toph hummed.
A tangible hush fell over them. Sokka chose that moment to force his eyes open. They were weighted down with an exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones. He struggled to sit up, groaning at the effort. His body failed him and Sokka flopped back down on the cot. He blinked the haze of darkness away. Exhaling he tried once more and pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes roved over the room, taking in the sight of each of his friends. His eyes traveled down.
What was left of his leg was bound in white gauze. They had changed his pants and put on new ones, having cut the leg of the pants so that his injury was on full display. He felt a phantom itch on his foot. His mind could not truly register what he was seeing. A part of him was simply…gone. What kind of warrior was he now? What kind of leader? What kind of man? Would the men from Omashu respect him and remain loyal to him?
“Sokka…” Kunip stepped forward, blocking Suki with his forearm when she tried to come closer. The young man shot her a look that was cautionary, but not unkind. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.” He knelt by the younger man’s side. “It’s been a long week.”
Sokka tried to speak but found his tongue was too large for his mouth. Sensing his predicament, Kunip gestured for Mika to pass him a glass of water. Sokka swallowed gratefully as the cotton in his throat washed away. A week? The tension in the room suggested he had missed quite a bit more than he was comfortable with. I leave them unsupervised for just a minute and they’re burning the house down. And now, at perhaps the most inconvenient of times, he was missing a leg. Half of a leg, technically, but it wasn’t exactly conducive to a war effort. He gripped his pants, unable to control the trembling that overcame him. The pain struck him at once, setting each bone alight with a pain that had bred with grief. They had to have pumped him with copious amounts of opium to numb him but now it had worn off. Now he felt everything.
Everything.
He leaned over the side of the bed and heaved. Yanik dove in with a bowl just as Sokka vomited what felt like his guts and brain . The tears came as well, the snot that dripped from his nose and the saliva dangling from his lip. He gagged and sobbed, gagged and sobbed, keenly aware of his friends watching him sympathetically. With pity. When his body failed him in that also, he fell back against the cot and wept in earnest. None of them attempted to stop him. What am I, I’m not whole, I’m not whole, I’m not-
The door opened and a gray haired man dressed in a black and white tunic and green apron entered. “If you would, I must attend to Chief Sokka’s injuries without distraction.” His tone, though amiable, left no room for debate. The group lingered before Suki led them out, never looking away from Sokka, and he wondered what she saw.
“You are lucky to be alive,” the man said. “Your companions were savvy enough to cover and clean your wound. By the grace of the spirit-gods it was cauterized near instantly. Your army’s medics drowned you in poppy tears until you could make it here, to Tosoura.” His mustache waggled as he spoke and his jowls hung from his face. He cleared his throat as he washed his hands in a bowl of water. “Tosoura has always been neutral in terms of conflict, even when the neighboring kingdoms try to annex us. You and your army will pass unmolested. I will change the gauze now. It will hurt.”
Sokka exhaled raggedly, grinding his teeth as the doctor peeled away layer after layer of pink tinged gauze. He bit down on his palm, forming red marks, and tears sprang into his eyes. The extent of the amputation was revealed. Someone, presumably the doctor, had sutured what was left of the skin of his calf to cover the space below his knee. The surgeon hummed as he pressed a damp cloth against it, his other hand firmly grasping Sokka’s leg when he tried to jerk away. “Are you qualified for this?”
With a dry chuckle the doctor continued his work. “I studied and trained at the College of Garsai. I graduated with honors. My mentor was a graduate from University of Ba Sing Se. If anyone is qualified, I’m sure it would be me. You will need to use crutches until you can be fitted for a makeshift prosthetic and learn to walk again.” He peered up at the Tribesman. “There are hospitals that can customize one for you, though I doubt they would be so inclined to do so in the middle of a military campaign.”
“Me neither,” Sokka replied acerbically. “So I’ll be useless then.” He had no ability to sense the world like Toph. What kind of man would he be, so reliant on others? In a war .
“Those men and women are very loyal to you. It can be ascertained that you are far from useless in their eyes. You are the man that they chose to follow.” Wiping his hands on the front of his apron, the doctor twitched his mustache. “They never left your side.”
Sokka turned to face the window on the left side of the room, his back to the doctor, and stared out at the dusky sky. The numbness came over him once more, forcing him into a shell that had hardened within him. He wondered where Katara was and what she was doing. And as night fell and the sun sank he wished he faded with it.
Notes:
The Phoenix Queen sends her regards.
Chapter 53: The Blood of the Dragon
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
Yaretzi curled into his side, face pressed against his warm skin, and Lu-Ten stroked her hair as he watched the sun rise through the tent flap. He should rise soon, he knew. He pressed a gossamer kiss on her cheek before rubbing his palm across the slow-growing swell of her belly. Some women only showed very late, Tenoch had explained patiently, especially with their first child. Some never showed at all. Part of Lu-Ten was eager to feel his child kick and move, to press his face against his wife’s abdomen and whisper promises to his babe. He dreamed of his daughter and his son running through a palace he had never seen, their peals of laughter ringing in his ears long after he had awakened. He would burn the world down to keep them. He would watch blood run like rivers if it meant his son or daughter would wear the crown owed to them.
He pushed away the dragon that had slithered close to his ear.
Lu-Ten rose, tripping over Yaretzi’s spirits-be-damned cat, who yowled in protest. He’d grown to dislike the thing, and there were times when he wished Izon had a taste for cat. The feeling was mutual. The cat, whom Yaretzi had christened Tozi, swiped at him periodically as if she detested his very existence. She tolerated him only when Yaretzi carried her around like an infant, cradling the feline to her chest and humming lullabies.
He stumbled once more upon exiting the tent and coming face to face with a magenta snout and piercing eyes. Lu-Ten swallowed his gasp at the sight of Izara curled around the tent, her massive head resting on her paws by the entrance. Her whiskers twitched and she grumbled low in her throat. It was a sound that felt more like a threat than a greeting. Whatever I’ve done to upset you, I apologize, Lu-Ten willed his mind to say. Izara snorted. She had grown more accustomed to lingering with the army, flying overhead with Izon as they crossed out of Arakem. Izon was not too far away, though he was sleeping still. Lu-Ten reached out to brush his hand along the dragon’s snout. She chuffed and never looked away from the tent in which Yaretzi slept. “I’ve taken good care of her, if that’s what you’re fussing about.”
“Don’t worry, she sat there all night watching. And I sat all night covering my ears,” Lallo harrumphed. “The little dragon is already in there, must you two be so…” his nose scrunched and he shuddered.
Not like he was one to talk. He had taken up with one of the female soldiers in Sagal’s division, a pretty woman named Bishara, and he often disappeared with her and returned with the most ridiculous grin on his face every time.
Lu-Ten smirked deviously but did not reply. The rest of the camp was just beginning to stir to start the day anew. Heavy rains had kept them stationary for two days now just along the curving path of the River of Chimi. A week ago they had crossed over into the neutral lands between Garsai and Arakem where the territory was splintered into various city states not much unlike Hijira. The army had split with half of the First Spears and earthbender regiments marching directly to the Estival Peninsula, led by Lady Sagal. Lord Gebre remained with Lu-Ten and the dragons. They would reconvene just outside of the colony.
Lu-Ten was prepared to burn it down. The hunger in his connection with Izon flared. He would not rest until his uncle was destroyed, and if that meant destroying everyone and anything in his path then so be it.
Besides, his precious little one would only sleep in the softest of cribs.
He and Lallo stepped around the dragons, cautiously. Izara lashed her tail and set her sights once more on the entrance of the pavilion tent, enchanted by the dragonkeeper even while she slept.
That was Yaretzi’s way. No matter how deep the connection ran between Lu-Ten and Izon, the dragon would turn every time he heard the siren song of the fire. He would come running like a dog to a whistle.
“Another day on the road I suppose,” Lallo mused aloud. “Dejen sent messenger hawks to Sagal and Bilqiis, and the old gray buzzards that they flock around with. You met a few of them during your…” he glanced sidelong at Lu-Ten, as if testing the waters, “sabbatical.”
Lu-Ten had tried not to dwell on those two months after the whore had tried to disembowel him, sequestered in a remote village. The villagers were all sworn to secrecy by the Order of the White Lotus. The town had been populated by members of the Order from all clans and kingdoms. He ground his teeth. They had been kind. They had taught him well, but it seemed that they had only fueled his desire for revenge. “They’re not so bad,” he responded as Tenoch strode towards them.
Tenoch greeted them both with a dip of his head. He had begun to look older, the corners of his eyes beginning to crinkle and droop, the lines around his mouth deepening. Lu-Ten had begun to see more and more of the resemblance between Lallo and Tenoch, the way their thick eyebrows waggled when they were jesting. He wasn’t sure if Lallo had even acknowledged the relationship between Tenoch and himself. It was clear that Tenoch loved them all like his children, even if he had never called Lallo his son. In any case his blood, his grandchild, would one day sit on the throne of the Fire Nation. He looked past them to the dragons and then to the sky. “Lord Gebre suggests that we remain for a day more so the ground can dry. But I think that any longer and the dragons will grow restless. We will pass the City on the Water’s Edge within the next day or so. If it pleases you, Prince Lu-Ten, I will arrange for a small logistical group to make arrangements for purchases.”
The Sun Warrior waved his hand. “I trust your judgment,” he replied. “Anything new from Sagal?”
He narrowed his eyes at Tenoch’s hesitation, standing taller as the older man pursed his lips.
“Nothing detrimental to your cause,” he said slowly, “only perhaps to the Order as a whole. Sagal’s scouts could not confirm, but they are a credible lot.” Tenoch gestured for them to follow him back to his own tent, pushing back the flap as they stepped inside. It was not quite as large as Lu-Tens, though there was a chest in the middle of space that was stuffed to the brim with maps and journals and what appeared to be old missives. Two sheets of paper and a map scroll rested on top of the wooden chest. A smoking lantern was placed beside it. Tenoch knelt as the younger men followed suit. “As you know, the Order of the White Lotus has a vested interest in the young Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Eventually we hope that the two of you will come together and usher in peace.” He pressed his hands flat against the wood and breathed deeply and slowly. “Your uncle has a web that runs far and deep. Remember, child, that for two decades he has controlled the world’s politics. Not even your grandfather Azulon was as influential, not even before his madness overtook him.”
Because of his whore wife , Lu-Ten mused sourly. The woman was just as poisonous as she was beautiful. He had no doubt that his uncle’s coup would have failed if not for the scheming of his beloved whore.
“The young chieftain has been making his way across the Earth Kingdoms. He won over Kyoshi and Omashu, as well as Gaoling. However, the Most Excellent One of Taku refused to join his cause.” Tenoch ran a dirty fingernail over the corners of the map. “She had already been swayed by the Phoenix Queen to employ a group of earthbending soldiers and firebenders to halt the boy in his tracks. The boy…”
Lallo slapped the surface. “Now don’t tell me the boy is dead. Lu-Ten comes back to life and that one dies.” He whirled on the taller man. “I swear to every spirit-god listening, if you up and die again and leave me to listen to Yaretzi’s wailing then-”
“He is not dead,” Tenoch broke in, “only disfigured. Even now his army marches through the unclaimed lands towards the peninsula just as you are. If you maintain the course, then we will rejoin Sagal and arrive at the colony a few weeks before him.”
Lu-Ten’s top lip curled. “And he didn’t kill the queen of Taku for her part in the ambush?” Then I will. I will not suffer a crony of Ozai undermining me. Izon would have burned the Most Excellent One and her entire capital and feasted on their bones, would have burned them just as he had burned the others. “She must be taken down.”
“Perhaps not, Prince Lu-Ten.” Dejen’s voice rang out as he entered the tent, trailed by a still-drowsy Yaretzi. “The Most Excellent One made the decision that she thought was the most beneficial, is that not what leaders do? She was in the employ of the Phoenix Queen directly. And the Phoenix Queen, if our friend the Lady of Lavender is to be believed, is dead. Or will be soon enough.”
A palpable silence fell over the five of them. Yaretzi took a seat between her husband and her brother. Lallo draped his arm affectionately over his sister’s shoulders and kissed her hair, never looking away from the elders.
Lu-Ten felt his blood freeze. “What?”
Dejen gave a sound of affirmation. “The Lady of Lavender has seen much and more in the capital city. Lady Maiko has been a contact of ours since the beginning, and her husband Lord Takuma played a vital role in keeping us informed on the Phoenix King’s household before his murder. According to her letters, the Queen ordered the Crown Prince Zuko to marry their Water Tribe prisoner. After the marriage, it seems that your uncle chose to…” he rubbed at a spot on his bald head as if the right words would come to him. He glanced at Yaretzi and grimaced.
A horrified realization dawned on the three of them. Yaretzi paled and gasped audibly. Lallo stiffened.
“What kind of sick bastard does that? After he married the girl to his own son.” The Sun Warrior bared his teeth. “What kind of sick-”
Lu-Ten squeezed his fists. Such a heinous crime would be punished severely back home. Most of the Sun Warriors valued their mothers and sisters greatly, and in the one instance of such an offense that Lu-Ten could remember, an entire group of young men had stomped on the offender until he was purple with bruises and broken bones. Lu-Ten had never seen the man again and he was certain that the victim’s father and brother had decided to take the trash out on their own accord. He snorted. So his uncle had waited until he had true custodial right over the princess, the dominion of a father over his household, before harming her. Even worse if he had managed to put a bastard in the belly of his son’s wife. “And yet he remains king.”
Dejen sighed. “If every evil king faced condemnation for their crimes, there would have been no men left to lead. The boy challenged Ozai for the honor of his pretend-wife. The boy, as it is known, is rather well liked by the people of the caldera. The lowborn did not take it well when they learned that your uncle had mutilated his own son for challenging him.”
Yaretzi had sat up straight, her face unreadable. “But that doesn’t explain why the queen is dead, no?”
“According to Lady Maiko, the woman admitted that the boy is a bastard,” Tenoch explained. “And Ozai had her killed for it.”
Lu-Ten pondered the information. It appeared that his uncle had sliced himself in the foot with his unhinged behavior. Raping the girl had been the beginning of his downfall, accelerated by the loss of his conniving wife.
“So this is a public relations campaign too, huh?” Lallo chuckled, his eyes smoldering despite his humor. “Whoever commits the least amount of atrocities wins the throne. Lu-Ten, brother, that means no more mass murder for you. Save for extenuating circumstances.” There was a taunting lilt in his words, as if he was attempting to prod a leopon, and Lu-Ten was savvy enough to know that he was baiting him.
They all did it, even Yaretzi. They would say things and watch his face for a ripple of discomfiture or anger, awaiting the day when the mad dog would froth at the mouth and bite the hand that fed him. He averted his eyes. Mad dog mad dog mad dog. The Order of the White Lotus would forever view him as a stray dog on a chain, scrubbed clean and brought inside to slumber on plush rugs until the day he bared his teeth. Let him growl just once, let him move too quickly and they would put him down. Mad dog mad dog mad dog.
But I am a dragon , his mind whispered, you wanted a king, you wanted a dragon, and now you are afraid now that you have it.
He snapped to attention. Dejen had asked him something. Lu-Ten flandered for a response, hoping (and failing) to grasp some context from Yaretzi and Lallo’s expressions. Dejen sighed. “I was asking you about your plans to parley with the Water Tribe boy, Prince Lu-Ten. If you take the peninsula before he arrives, then you will have the upper hand of negotiations. Keep in mind that you are both under the goodwill of the Order of the White Lotus. Whatever decisions the two of you make must be in the best interests of the world, not yourselves. It would be easy to dispose of any dissidents and upheave dynasties, but who would sit on those thrones?”
Vengeance is the sweetest poison, they had told him, it kills you while you yet still drink.
Lu-Ten smiled disarmingly. “Some wars are not meant to be fought. My uncle is my true enemy.”
And I will watch his blood drip over the flagstones.
“Alright, well.” Lallo was the first to stand. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I just heard my unborn nephew say he’s hungry. And we can’t keep a prince waiting, no?” He took Yaretzi by her elbow, fussing over her like a mother hen. The priestess groaned in exasperation as the older man led her about. Lu-Ten had noticed he had become more possessive of Yaretzi in her current condition, never straying too far, ever vigilant. Even more so when they saw Lu-Ten in one of his black moods.
Did he really think Lu-Ten would harm his own wife?
Of course he did.
Lu-Ten had slaughtered an entire outpost of men with little recollection and even less remorse. Anger came more quickly to him now, fulgurous and primal, and not easily placated. Yaretzi could control the dragon but she could not control the man.
He followed, stung, as they joined the Arakemeti for their breakfast. Lord Gebre saluted him with the respect due to him and not an ounce more. Lu-Ten knew that Lord Gebre did not see him in a particularly positive light, though he figured that the man harbored a general disdain for most people. He wore his full pale green and white armor and trimmed gauntlets that bulked his slender frame. He greeted Yaretzi with noticeably more warmth, as they all did. Especially the First Spears, as if she reminded them of their own daughters and sisters. A number of the younger female soldiers, like Bishara, had pulled the young priestess into their fold. When she wasn’t riding up front with Lu-Ten and the others, he knew that she could be found with her small Arakemeti sorority.
As if summoned, Bishara sauntered over to them, walking into Lallo’s outstretched arms. She was petite, smaller even than Yaretzi, but her arms and legs were toned with the muscle of a master earthbender.
Tenoch shoved a plate of food into Yaretzi’s hands and the priestess groaned in quiet protest. She had grumbled that everyone was treating her like glass, especially Dejen and Lallo. Lu-Ten found it endearing. His child would always be surrounded by love, protected by capable men and women. His own mother, who their enemies called a witch, would never let her child be in harm’s way.
And two dragons.
His mind sang out to Izon and the dragon responded with a rumble of his own as he roused himself from his slumber, spreading his great wings until the tents were encased in shadow. They leapt out of the way as he drew closer to Lu-Ten and ducked his head low, offering his ruff to the man. Ride, boy?
He loved his boy, as much as dragons could in their primal way. He had flown from the safety of his cave and jungle for the boy, he would burn and devour for the boy-
Lu-Ten pulled himself from the web of Izon’s primordial thoughts. The dragon waited for him, rumbling in approval as Lu-Ten pulled himself up onto his back. He held on tightly as Izon pushed himself forward and up, flapping his red wings as they took to the morning skies. Lu-Ten let out a whoop of joy, relishing in the whip and chill of the wind against his face. Izon rose higher still until they were brushing the bottom of the clouds and Lu-Ten’s skin was dampened by mist. “We will fly over the caldera soon.” And you will know the taste of my uncle’s blood. And his spawn.
He would enjoy watching his uncle die, crushed by the mighty jaws of his dragon. To hear his screams and the crack of bone and tearing of flesh. A triumphant rush surged through his chest. Soon. Soon.
They circled the host once and then once more before landing, drunk from exhilaration. Feeling the heat of the gazes of his companions, Lu-Ten lifted his chin and imagined the weight of a crown.
The City on the Water’s Edge lay in the crux of the River of Chimi and a distributary of the River of Kor-Rah. The earth was fertile, although not nearly as marshy as the kingdom of Banka-Kadi in the east. According to Tenoch’s lessons, the country was pockmarked with rivers and lakes, and a quarter of it was covered by a sprawling swamp. The city in the unclaimed lands was quite different. Lu-Ten saw Arakemeti influences amongst what he could only consider to be Garsaiian architecture and he noted Fire Nationer touches as well. The unclaimed lands were like that, Dejen had said. Any and all were welcome.
It was built on a grid, much like Al-Imbatu and Al-Kemeda that all spilled out onto the banks of the river. The structures were stuccoed with scalloped windows and elaborate designs on the roofing. Lu-Ten rode atop Izon as they entered the city’s territory. Yaretzi sat behind him, her arms wrapped around his waist and cheek pressed against his back. Izara trailed not far behind as they began the circling descent to the open space between two city blocks. Terrified eyes stared up at them and the fast-approaching army. Izon roared for good measure and caused the crowd to scatter.
The city council had been notified of their imminent arrival by the scouts that had gone ahead. They were graybeards unsurprisingly, but held their composure well at the sight of two ferocious beasts landing in their streets.
Lu-Ten slid off of Izon’s back and assisted Yaretzi before turning to stand before them. He lifted his chin. They wore a neutral tan and green. They bowed to him and his wife, muttering the appropriate greetings.
“Prince Lu-Ten, we are honored to have you here in our city.” The shortest of the council members was clearly their spokesperson. “While you are here, the city is yours.”
The city is yours.
The city is yours.
The city is yours.
The words echoed in his head and Lu-Ten found himself grinning victoriously. The archipelago is yours sounded better, but it was a small start. Sensing their need for a response he nodded curtly. “The honor is mine,” he replied, “and my gratitude cannot be diminished.” They offered satisfactory mumblings.
Dejen stepped forward and produced a Pai Sho tile from his pocket. Lu-Te gaped. How many does he have? It seemed as if the man’s supply of white lotus tiles was endless. “I should hope that we remain friends,” he said pointedly. “You have always been a gracious host.”
“We take pride in our hospitality towards all,” the leader of the City of the Water’s Edge responded in turn. “Please, let us speak while arrangements are made. We are all friends here, yes?”
Lu-Ten pressed a hand against Yaretzi’s belly as they were led into one of the larger buildings within the city. It was not a palace, though it was just as ostentatious. Lu-Ten could see his reflection in the white marble and the sunlight from the geometric sky well warmed his skin. A number of cherubic-faced children appeared from nooks in the walls, carrying trays of grapes and cheeses as the entourage followed the elders. Lu-Ten quirked his brow at their uniform androgyny.
“Eunuchs,” Dejen said quietly. “A tradition that died long ago in my country but persists in others.” He hummed as he accepted a handful of green grapes. “I shall keep my opinions reserved to myself.”
The Wise Men guided them to a meeting chamber in which there was a long table in the center. The corners were filled with vibrant plants. Each of the men took a seat as they filed in, leaving the five of them to sit next to each other. Lu-Ten settled in the center with Yaretzi on his left and Lallo on his right. He waited.
“We are all friends here,” Dejen repeated. “A messenger hawk from Bilqiis made mention of it, but your proximity to the peninsula keeps your information undiluted.” The man put his hands flat on the stone table. “Is it true?”
The chief Wiseman twitched his lips. “All of our friends in Garsai can attest to it, yes. Azumi can be…questionable, but I have always had full faith in Tsughara and Ishragha. Ishragha moves this way as we speak. She plans to arrive at the peninsula when she deems it safe.” His brown eyes settled on Lu-Ten and it seemed as though the entire room was holding its breath. “She brings your cousin with her.”
Lu-Ten cleaned his ear, wondering if he had heard the Wiseman correctly. “I beg your pardon? My cousin?”
“Yes, Prince Lu-Ten. Ishragha the Seamstress brings Prince Zuko from Garsai. In disguise of course, but the Prince all the same.” The second eldest Wiseman gave a sagacious nod. “They smuggled him from the capital of the Fire Nation after his mother was executed for adultery.”
The Prince tried and failed to hide his bewilderment. His jaw dropped. Social protocol thrown aside, he whirled on his advisors. “You bring my enemy to me?” He snarled. “Tenoch, what kind of game is this?”
The older Sun Warrior had yet to look at him, his countenance trained into placidity. “The Order of the White Lotus acts in the best interest of the world, not just one particular individual. You will not understand some of our work. Perhaps it is best if we discuss this further in private?”
Lu-Ten swelled, only to be calmed by Yaretzi's warning hand. Her fingers were hot. “Yes, of course.” He could feel the analytical stares of the Wise Men. Though they were not part of a kingdom, their opinion of him was also crucial. Especially since it seemed that they were members of the Order of the White Lotus as well. “Forgive my outburst.”
The Wiseman waved dismissively. “Shocking news often causes intense reactions. Consider it forgiven and forgotten. Now, go refresh yourselves. We shall dine on the finest salmon you have ever eaten.”
Once they had been escorted to the guest quarters in the administrative campus, Lu-Ten promptly took the first thing he could find and hurled it at the wall. It happened to be a ceramic bowl. It shattered upon impact, sending jagged pieces over the floor that he further crushed beneath his boots.
Yaretzi flinched, clutching Tozi close. “Perhaps it’s better if you rest, yes?” The dragonkeeper watched him as he paced about the room. She chewed on her bottom lip, doubtlessly straining her ears to listen for Izon’s agitation from where he lingered on the edge of the city. “Lu-Ten.”
Lallo slouched in a chair in the corner, uncharacteristically quiet.
“I will kill him.” Lu-Ten seethed. “They dare bring that cretinous bastard to me, and expect me to do what? Accept him with open arms? Soothe the rift between us and our families?” He growled wordlessly. “If they dare bring him to me then I will kill him. I’ll cut him down myself. Slit his throat from ear to ear and hang his entrails in the trees.” He swiftly changed direction as he stalked about the chamber.
Lallo coughed into his fist. “Ah well, that’s some nice imagery.”
“You will do no such thing,” Yaretzi’s voice cut through him. “You will not.” Her copper face had darkened. She had risen, thrusting her kitten into Lallo’s lap. Errant strands of her hair stuck to her forehead. “As sure as the sun rises, you will not harm your cousin.”
Lu-Ten barked out a laugh. “You all can call him my cousin , but it won’t change what he is. A usurper’s spawn. The result of a craven’s seed and a whore’s detestable accursed womb. Not worth living.”
His wife narrowed her eyes. “Lu-Ten, you’ve said enough.” She crossed the distance between them and laid her hand on his forearm. He covered hers with his own. “You are saying ugly ugly things. Don’t give yourself a bad face. Clearly the Order sees the benefit of uniting you two, or else they would never have made the effort, no?” Yaretzi met his gaze with a cool, cautionary, intensity.
“Yaretzi is right, brother.” Lallo spoke up from where he sat. “Dejen and the others have been coordinating every move for the last twenty years. Don’t you think you should trust their judgment?”
“I trust Tenoch and Dejen in everything else. But the White Lotus…they’re not like Dejen and Tenoch. What if they plan on replacing me?!” Replace him with one that is more pliable. One that is less volatile and more loved. He gripped Yaretzi’s hand.
“Lu-Ten,” she whimpered, “you’re hurting me.”
Lu-Ten released her as if she had burned him. He had not been cognizant of the strength he had been applying to her hand, ignorant and deaf to the cracking of her wrist joints. Yaretzi nursed her arm to her chest, her expression one of fear. Fear of him.
Mad dog mad dog mad dog .
In the span of a heartbeat Lallo had risen and inserted himself between Lu-Ten and his wife. His countenance twisted in a dark scowl. “Move,” he hissed vehemently as he examined Yaretzi’s wrist, turning back once satisfied. With Yaretzi tucked behind him Lallo pointed an accusatory finger in Lu-Ten’s direction. “I wish you could see yourself right now. So you could see yourself how we do. You don’t look like my brother, Lu-Ten. I don’t see the boy I grew up with, not anymore.” Lallo clutched his sister close. “Yaretzi, come on.”
Lu-Ten blinked rapidly. His heart lodged itself in his throat. “Yaretzi,” he croaked, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The dark beast had consumed him. “Lallo, please, brother. I’m sorry. I don’t…I don’t know what came over me.” The same thing that had prompted him to slaughter the scouts. The same anger that boiled under his skin every waking moment. “I’m not…do you think I’m a monster?”
For a moment that crawled like years Lallo did not respond. Nor did he release the hold he had on his younger sister. He blinked away tears. “I don’t know what you are anymore,” Lallo answered.
The prince turned pleadingly to his wife. “Yaretzi, am I a monster?”
The priestess held her breath.“There will come a day,” she prophesied, “where you shall make the decision to be a man or a dragon.” Her bottom lip quivered and she swallowed thickly. “I pray you choose wisely.”
The door closed as they exited, leaving him alone with the broken ceramic bowl and a deepening pit in his belly. Mad dog mad dog mad dog. Perhaps he was inflicted by the incurable disease of madness that had plagued his family, manifesting as violence and anger. Would he end up like his grandfather, fearful of conspiring shadows and bumps in the night? Their proximity to the dragons had left them cursed with an incorrigibility that no son or daughter could wash away. And if his son or daughter also shared the same madness in his blood, then what would become of them, of him ? Lu-Ten ran a hand through his hair and swept it behind his ears.
Tozi meowed. Throughout the exchange she had remained perched where Lallo had left her, staring at Lu-Ten with a severity that unsettled him. The cat lashed her tail.
Mad dog mad dog.
——
They met Sagal’s army thirty leagues from the outskirts of the city of the Estival Peninsula. Ten thousand soldiers had crossed unmolested through the unclaimed lands to arrive at the edge of the region. Sagal’s encampment resembled a miniature city on its own. Trained soldiers could march twenty miles a day in the proper conditions, and the weather had consistently improved once they left the City on the Water’s Edge. The caravan traveled a bit slower due to the bloated train of supplies, animals, and camp followers. Lu-Ten surveyed it all from his vantage point atop Izon’s back, soaring high above them. The snap of a second pair of wings caused him to look over his shoulder.
Izara glided gracefully, her front paws tucked against her belly as her magenta colored wings kept her aloft in the air. Seated between her wings, posed like a goddess, was Yaretzi. Her hair billowed in the wind, stripped from her braid, flying behind her like a black cloud. Citlali personified, mounted upon one of her draconian children. The dragon had at last fallen completely under the allure of Yaretzi’s mystical firebending, offering her shoulder to the priestess and allowing (perhaps even pleading) Yaretzi to climb onto the space between her neck and wings. The young woman had laced a knotted rope over her neck as a makeshift harness, although Izara treated her rider with a sort of gentleness that allowed Yaretzi to stay secured. Izara trilled, churning her wings to overtake Izon almost playfully as she passed over them.
Yaretzi looked down, her smile strained. She had been distant from Lu-Ten since he had hurt her, preferring to sleep in the tents with Bishara and the other young women instead of with him. Her conversations were curt but polite, never lingering longer than etiquette dictated. She ate with Lallo, who was also frigid with him when he reported the pace of the soldiers further down in the column.
The First Spears were waiting for them as they returned to the ground, shaking the earth with a resounding thud. Izon shook out his mane. Izara landed not too far away and crouched to the ground so Yaretzi could slide down easily. Yaretzi dusted off her pants and adjusted the vest that she wore over her shirt although it did little to conceal the widening portion of her torso. The First Spears greeted her warmly.
Lady Sagal saluted her in the Arakemeti way. “Princess, it is a pleasure to see you again.” Her voice was filled with maternal affection. “A dragonrider now, I see.”
“Indeed,” Lord Geljire chimed. “There will never be a finer Fire Lady.”
They gathered at the head of a makeshift war table that had been assembled in the middle of the field, protected from prying eyes by walls erected by the earthbenders. Each of them nodded to Lu-Ten as he joined them. Upon the stone table was a map drawn out on a large faded scroll. The area of the Fire Nation colony had been mapped out in astonishing detail, including the topography of the area as it led to the encapsulated city. In the heart of it was the citadel, known as SunWatch, that was heavily fortified by master firebenders and swordsmen.
“I’ve no doubt that they are aware of our approach,” Lord Gebre began, “and they have most likely already established defenses. There is a wall here,” his finger stabbed the eastern part of the shadow city of SunWatch, “that the first and fourth legions of the Elite will breach with their bending. They will be followed by the sixteenth, seventeenth, and twenty first divisions as reinforcements and to secure the eastern quadrant. Divisions one through ten will remain camped outside of the borders.” He roved over the group of commanders. “Lady Sagal, your input?”
The woman analyzed the scroll. “The north wall is the most heavily defended yet also the least populated. I would like to avoid putting many citizens in harm’s way. Perhaps it is my fragile maternal heart,” she added sardonically before continuing, “if the governor is wise then she will have an underground bunker. “Lord Odoya, what say you?”
Lord Odoya was a hulking man with a voice like gravel. “We will root them out,” he replied before looking out where the dragons waited. “I would like to avoid the deployment of the Prince’s dragons.”
Lord Gebre gave a terse grunt of agreement.
Lu-Ten drew attention to himself by clearing his throat. “I beg to differ. We will continue with your plans to disarm the city guard. However, Izon and I will proceed directly to the fortress.” Izon’s thoughts brushed against his own.
Yaretzi inhaled sharply.
“Prince Lu-Ten, is that wise? Surely our men are capable of capturing and holding SunWatch without the force of your…animals.” Lady Sagal had straightened her spine, clasping her hands behind her back.
He raised his chin. “Izon and I will proceed directly to the fortress,” he repeated.
The First Spears were silent. He could sense the palpable tension amongst them and the unspoken whispers. “As you wish, Prince Lu-Ten.” Lady Sagal glanced sidelong at Yaretzi and Lu-Ten did not miss the way his wife’s brows twitched and her jaw flexed. Sagal began to roll the scroll and passed it to Odoya. “Let us prepare our men.”
He could feel the heat of Yaretzi’s presence even before he felt her hands shove him in the back. Lu-Ten spun on his heel. He did not recognize the woman standing before him. For the first time he feared for his life. Yaretzi shoved him two steps back and then a third, wordlessly pushing him away until he stumbled. “Please,” her voice was little more than a whisper, “don’t do this.”
“… as sure as the sun rises, if you become like your uncle, then I will cut you down myself.”
But I am not my uncle, Lu-Ten thought. I am more. I am greater. Yaretzi’s lip quivered as he reached for her hands, pressing his lips against each one of her fingertips. “I never said I would allow Izon to attack, only that we would fly to the citadel.” The smile he gave her was bright. “They must know my power. Our power.” Lu-Ten drew her into his arms and Yaretzi stiffened before allowing him to kiss her. “I promise. Trust me. I love you. Trust me.”
She pulled away, eyes still wary, and behind her Izara grumbled. She did not trust him, he knew, but he could only hope that four days from now he would prove to her and the world that he was a dragon reborn.
They marched through the night and the next morning tirelessly before setting camp and splitting forces once more. The divisions that were not to be deployed would stay behind at the camp to maintain order. It was unknown how long it would take to breach and besiege SunWatch, but a buzz of excitement coursed through the camp. The young blooded soldiers were aching for glory and the elders were aching to return home once he had won his throne.
On the evening of the second day, Lallo finally joined them at the cook fire. He was accompanied by Bishara and her brother Sigei, both of whom had donned their armor. Bishara looked considerably more bulky in the leather armor complete with gauntlets and shin guards. They were a part of the fourth legion that would create an opening in the city’s gates. It was one of the more dangerous positions in the operation, though both siblings were swollen with pride. “Who knew marching twenty miles a day is such strenuous exercise?” Lallo massaged his legs.
Sigei scoffed. “For you. We’re trained from the beginning to build our endurance. Strong lungs, strong feet, strong soldiers. When your parents are both career military folks, you learn early to run with a boulder on your back.”
“Sounds terrible,” Lallo drawled.
“We can’t all be recreants,” Sigei retorted without venom.
Lallo huffed.
Lu-Ten suppressed his laughter.
“Well, after tomorrow you’ll see me all decked out in splendor. Right, sister? I’ll look beauteous.” He nudged Yaretzi and she swatted at him. “You with your fancy crown and what not, but that nephew of mine is going to give me beachfront property. Lord Lallo , sounds as melodious as a tinkling bell. Not as nice as Fire Lady Yaretzi but don’t get a swelled head.” He looked across the fire at Lu-Ten. “And Fire Lord Lu-Ten.”
——
The morning sky was the color of lavender and blood.
There was a sense of trepidation amongst the ranks, commingled with a sort of gleeful excitement after so long of trudging through ever-changing terrain. The younger men were playing games, kicking boulders back and forth with ease, while others were praying to the spirit-gods. More still were at ease, clearly the veterans that had seen battle before, already accustomed to the mornings before facing death.
Lu-Ten adjusted his armor, strapping on the greaves and tightening the belt that held the wide leaf shaped dagger that Arakemeti foot soldiers used as sidearms. Others clutched their long curved sabers or bows and full quivers.
The first horn sounded, alerting the men to fall into formation. The camp was a blur of spears and armor as the elite earthbenders took their places at the head of the group. The First Spears rode on armored ostrich-horses. Lords Geljire and Odoya were shouting coded commands that caused the soldiers to change positions or move closer together.
Tenoch and Dejen cantered over to him on ostrich-horses. Both men, despite their advanced age, had covered themselves in armor. Dejen wore his helm while Tenoch held his own under his armpit. “Today is a momentous day, my boy,” Tenoch greeted him. “Let us pray that the spirit-gods favor us.”
“The Fire Nationers have always enjoyed the neutrality of the unclaimed lands. Otherwise, the earthbending kingdoms would have overwhelmed them long ago. As long as the ground is solid then an earthbender will never be without a weapon.” Dejen inclined his head in the direction of the waiting legions. “We will depart soon.”
Lu-Ten turned his head at the sound of a commotion close by.
“Yaretzi, you should stay behind.” Lallo was arguing with his sister, flanked by the gaggle of girls that were also trying to persuade the priestess to remain with the stationary legions. “You don’t need to be on the ground during the fighting.”
Yaretzi stood with her arms crossed over her chest. She huffed. Upon her shoulder was a quiver, not quite in the style that she had been trained in, but a bowman was a bowman and as long as she had two functioning arms and eyes then she could aim and she could shoot. At her foot was a recurved bow. She had pulled her hair into a tightly bound topknot and sported a cuirass. “I am no fighter,” Yaretzi said, “but I will not remain behind while my brother and husband put themselves in danger. Besides,” she gestured skyward, “I will be atop Izara and survey the enemy. If reinforcements are needed then the message would travel much faster if carried by a dragon.”
Bishara chewed her lip. “It’s not wise. They have crossbows in SunWatch, and who is to say that they can’t reach a dragon?”
Yaretzi stood her ground. Pink fire came to her hand and she raised it with her palm up. The enchanted creature shrieked as she plunged to the ground, landing with a ground rattling thud. “Citlali’s children are not so easily killed.” She stalked over to where Izara waited, swinging herself up onto her back.
Tenoch watched on in dismay. “Please, Yaretzi. Listen to the ones that care about you. Stay behind.”
She looked down at them from the back of her dragon. “I won’t.”
When did she get this stubborn? She had always been, Lu-Ten thought. In the past, however, she had always gotten her way by locking her opponent in a stalemate. How many times had she blocked Lu-Ten’s path, demanding that he play dolls with her or watch her do a backflip? Or somehow convinced the elderly women of their city to give her beads for her jewelry? Everyone always buckled and acquiesced to Beloved Yaretzi, who was a princess long before anyone put a tiara on her head.
The older men sighed. Dejen turned pleadingly to Lu-Ten. “Surely you can change her mind?”
Yaretzi pulled hard on Izara’s reins. “He won’t.” Izara exhaled smoke, her head wagging back and forth like a serpent’s until Yaretzi cooed her dragon song. The magenta colored beast gathered her energy in her hind legs before propelling skyward, kicking up dust and dirt in the process.
Lu-Ten craned his neck. Lallo patted his shoulder. “You know how she is,” he said and it appeared that his sour feelings towards Lu-Ten were gone. “But she’s a smart brat.” Lallo grasped Lu-Ten’s hand firmly before taking a step back, an uncharacteristic sobriety in his eyes that darkened his features.
The Arakemeti women donned helms in the shape of the Hyeagle’s head after pulling on white scarves that covered their throats and faces until only their eyes remained visible. They jogged to their places in the formation as the second horn blasted.
The commanders were roving about, carrying dragon banners and Hyeagle flags. Lu-Ten inhaled deeply before reaching out for Izon. The dragon heard his call, flying in from the north. He hovered as Lu-Ten snatched the rope hanging from his neck and pulled his body up until he was dangling in the air. Way to test myself, he snarked and cursed the dragon for refusing to make his ascent easier. Izon chuckled in his mind. Once firmly planted, Lu-Ten saw that Izara had already flown to the other side of the columns, barely more than a red colored speck against the morning sky.
“Izon.” Lu-Ten spoke the word as a command, pointing in the direction of the citadel. The dragon roared, spewing bursts of red flame that arced through the sky. Izon leaned back, his great wings flapping to balance himself. Lu-Ten clutched the rope that he had thrown over the dragon’s back as he flew forward. The earthbenders began to march behind him, the thunderous sound of feet and hooves and the clatter of steel. They all looked the same from this height, just a blur of white and green marching towards SunWatch on the coast. The citadel, with its high walls and high pagodas, and the banner of the fox-rat hanging just below the Phoenix King’s.
The firebenders of the Estival Peninsula were wise. Generations of living beside earthbenders had taught them to use walls of fire to stall their approach. Rings of fire had been lit around the city’s perimeter, grayish black clouds wafting to the sky. Lu-Ten could spot the first row of men standing behind the flames. He could see their faces blanch at the sight of the red creature that had killed their fellow countrymen. Restrain yourself , he told Izon. He had promised Yaretzi.
The first line of earthbenders broke away from the others, falling into a synchronized motion of bending. The ground cracked and split as they brought their hands down and then apart as one cohesive unit. A jagged fissure ran through the fire wall, splitting an opening that allowed the second set of soldiers to burst through. The dragon and the man hovered, awestruck by the display of such concise yet ruthless earthbending. Lu-Ten spotted Lady Sagal leaping down from her mount and throwing her body into a cart wheel with jagged stones following each turn of her limbs. The rocks flew in the direction of the firebenders. The Arakemeti were quickly overwhelming the small force, though it appeared to Lu-Ten that they weren’t truly fighting at all. Perhaps it was the sight of the two dragons overhead that gave them unease.
Lu-Ten turned back to the city of SunWatch. A bell was tolling and even from his vantage point he could see and hear the frantic shouts as the population gathered their things and their children, realizing that at last the dragon had reached their doorstep. The citadel SunWatch was centered on a hill. Its stone foundation was steep as it gave way to the three tiered castle upon which flickered a beacon of distress. Lu-Ten narrowed his eyes as Izon made a wide pass to get a better view of the city.
Already the eastern and northern walls were beginning to crumble under the efforts of the legions of earthbenders. The crackle and shuffle of grating stones filled the air amidst the cries of the citizens. Dust choked Lu-Ten even at this height. The firebenders were honorable and valiant fighters, and Lu-Ten was impressed by the powerful displays that they conjured. Their bending was not like his own. Whereas the firebending of the Sun Warriors was fluid, the fighting style of the Fire Nationers was notably more pronounced and rigid.
The whistle of a crossbow quarrel alerted Lu-Ten to his vulnerability. He ducked just as it went overhead. Had he been fully upright then it would have speared him in the throat. Izon let out an irritated roar, whipping his head in the direction from which the deadly quarrel had come. The palace. Their rage became one.
Izon clawed at the air in an attempt to cover the distance, his wings flapping furiously. Lu-Ten leaned against the dragon’s body as another crossbow bolt skirted Izon’s flank and grazed his skin. The dragon belched smoke as he lunged towards the source of the attack. Lu-Ten could feel the fire forming in his throat as they closed in on the highest point of SunWatch where two brave fools remained with their crossbows armed, staring down the red maw of death. Izon outstretched his front claws and exhaled-
A magenta colored blur smashed into them. Lu-Ten yelped as he was thrown from Izon’s back. The force of the impact had caused him to fall off of the dragon and onto the wooden floor of the citadel’s peak. He groaned as the back of his head slammed against the ground and caused temporary stars to appear in his vision. He could hear Izon’s confused roar followed by that of another. Lu-Ten rolled onto his stomach just as the limp weight of a dead man flopped down to his left. The fletcher of an arrow protruded from his neck. He scrambled to his feet.
Yaretzi remained mounted on Izara, her bow arm still holding the string tight. The arrowhead was trained on the quivering man beside Lu-Ten and his dead comrade. He had dropped his own crossbow. Yaretzi did not blink. “Take me to the governor.” Her head swiveled in Lu-Ten’s direction. “Take us to the governor.”
The priestess let her arm relax. She lowered the bow and slipped the unused arrow back into the quiver. With a leap assisted by her firebending, the priestess landed on the floor just beyond the railing. She stumbled just a hair before regathering herself. “If you don’t want to see the inside of a dragon’s belly, I suggest you get moving.” Yaretzi spun on her heel and wordlessly gestured for the dragons to fly away.
The lone guardsman had soiled himself. Lu-Ten drew his sword and wrapped his arm around the man’s shoulders, pressing the edge of the blade against his neck. Yaretzi nodded stiffly. Lu-Ten pushed their hostage forward.
The winding halls of SunWatch were eerily empty and quiet. Lu-Ten could taste the fear and palpable tension, just as he could hear the chaos that occurred outside of the palace walls. The song of steel meeting steel, and rock grinding, and the thick taste of smoke filled his lungs. The guardsman kept his arms visible as he led them through the dim corridors, down the stairs that descended into the barricaded chamber underneath the floorboards. Yaretzi walked backwards, her spine pressed against Lu-Ten’s, covering their rear.
The bunker beneath the citadel had been reinforced with steel. It was a prudent decision. The chance of an army having enough metalbenders to penetrate the bunker was slim. Lu-Ten kicked the guard in the back. “Open it.”
The man, who was truly little more than a child, was trembling. “I can’t,” he mewled pathetically, “I don’t have a key.”
His eyes traveled to a moving figure in the rafters just beyond Lu-Ten’s shoulder.
He smirked.
The Sun Warrior turned just as the second Fire Nationer leapt from his perch, punching out two blasts of fire. Lu-Ten slapped the fireballs away and retaliated with a sweep of his leg just as their hostage slid into an offensive stance. Yaretzi, though she was no fighter, lashed out with a flaming whip that struck true. The close quarters were filled with the putrid stench of burnt flesh. Their new opponent wailed as he withdrew his hand.
Lu-Ten felt fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. He hissed at the sting of the blade slicing the length of his arm as he brought his hand up to shield his face. Sheathing his fist in fire, Lu-Ten rained blows down on his assailant, enthralled by the glorious sound of the subdued guardsman’s screams. He spun on his heel to defend Yaretzi, only to find that his wife had stepped out of his shadow.
She was engaged in a bright exchange of fire with the other Fire Nationer, illuminating the space with her firebending.
Without warning the temple priestess spun into a familiar bending form, though no flames were at her fists. Lu-Ten could see her fingers moving quickly, as if they were weaving through a loom. She moved as though she was dancing, sliding into a kata that Lu-Ten recalled seeing in Tuwa’s books. Her eyes never left her assailant.
The man began to scream.
It was a cry of immense agony and despair that sent jolts down Lu-Ten’s spine. The man suddenly clawed at his skin, frozen in place by whatever pain afflicted him. He wailed and pleaded to the gods, his voice becoming increasingly shrill with each passing breath. Lu-Ten watched as the man’s skin began to blacken and crackle like pig flesh, hardening and releasing tendrils of blood and smoke. It began to flake and peel, falling away in sickening cooked chunks. With each breath he coughed out soot and ash. The man crumpled to his knees. Lu-Ten whipped around to look at his wife. Her face had turned to stone with concentration. His stomach roiled.
Yaretzi was burning him from the inside out.
When it was done and the man was charred, she dropped her hands. The guardsman had curled into a heap as he died, leaving glistening streaks of fat where he lay. There was no remorse in the young woman’s eyes, not even a hint of guilt or any other emotion for that matter save for a resigned satisfaction. She captured Lu-Ten in her chilling stare. He had never seen her so cold.
Yaretzi stepped over the man’s body (or what remained of it) and nudged the barely conscious but still breathing man who had led them to the bunker. “Open the door.”
With bruised arms he covered his head when Lu-Ten delivered a swift kick to his ribs. “I don’t have the key,” he whimpered, “I don’t, I don’t!”
Yaretzi knelt and rummaged briskly through his pockets. She produced a metal key ring, dangling before his face. “It is not good to lie.” There was an innocence in her tone that made Lu-Ten chuckle, even when she looked up at him. The priestess stalked over to the entrance of the bunker. The keys rattled as she wiggled the lock, stepping back as the metal door swung open. She gasped.
The governor slumped where she sat, face gray and lips blue, still damp from the poison from the vial that had fallen at her feet.
Lu-Ten failed to swallow the triumphant laughter that followed. The governor had taken the weakling’s route, taking her own life while SunWatch fell. It had been easy, perhaps too easy, but who was to stop him when he had become such an indomitable force? He glared down at their prisoner and allowed himself to smile.
The city of the Estival Peninsula had fallen.
——
The conquering of SunWatch was ultimately rather bloodless. Lord Odoya had captured the city’s commanders and imprisoned the highest ranking officers. Lady Sagal had taken control of the northern quadrant of the city while Lord Gebre had seized the western. The city had been sacked, though all of the First Spears had emphasized the punishment that would ensue for men who dared to rape or pillage. ‘ Harm no woman nor child,’ Lady Sagal had ordered, ‘ or I will wear your hands on a chain around my belt.’
Once it was discovered that the governor had taken her own life, the peninsular colony’s administrators surrendered unconditionally. Those who did not were swiftly executed by Lu-Ten’s command. The others were kept under close surveillance, locked in their windowless chambers except for when Tenoch and Dejen called upon them. The Phoenix King’s banners were replaced with those of a dragon, and the denizens of the Estival Peninsula craned their necks to catch a glimpse of the dragons that wheeled overhead. They, wisely, kept their opinions to themselves, and if they spoke of dissent then they kept it from prying eyes and ears. The five weeks had passed quietly.
The governor’s seat suited him.
It was a dais carved from obsidian and gold striped jasper nestled in the belly of SunWatch’s castle. Light streamed in from windows on both sides, allowing Lu-Ten to stare out at the province and city that he claimed. His. In time, once the matter with the Water Tribe boy was settled, he would make way for the Caldera and take back his birthright. Lu-Ten sat on the throne, his head lifted high. This was only a small taste of what was to come. For weeks now he had grown accustomed to sitting high and looking low as the Estival Peninsula’s generals and administrators prostrated before him.
Their connection to the Fire Nation was virtually severed. No messenger hawk nor eagle raven flew in or out of the city without one of Lu-Ten’s advisors reviewing its contents.
“The commoners have taken well to your presence. As well as to be expected I suppose. It helped that Lord Geljire ordered the legions to rebuild the parts of the city that had been damaged and issued patrols throughout the streets. It benefits you as well that Ozai’s popularity is sinking.” Dejen presented a scroll to him. It was an edict that declared all children were to be escorted by Arakemeti guardsmen. Children were lithe little songbirds who could fly where messenger hawks couldn’t- who was to say that the promise of toys and candy wouldn’t tempt a little one to play assassin? “Will you sign this?”
Lu-Ten gestured to Yaretzi. She sat to the right of him with Lallo. He could see that she was fidgeting and Lu-Ten would always find himself in awe of the opposing aspects of his wife’s personality. In one moment she was an immensely talented priestess and dragonkeeper yet in the next she was an anxious young woman who still picked at her flaws in the mirror. “The Fire Lady will sign it.”
The siblings raised their heads as one. They had traded their Arakemeti armor for more courtly attire. Lallo sported a black and red embroidered tunic while his sister wore a long sleeve sheath. They had plundered through the old governor’s quarters and discovered her jeweled headdresses and hair pins. Yaretzi wore one now, a red lotus flower pinning her silky waves in place, and a collar of rubies. She looked like a Fire Lady, truly. And when Izon and Izara flew at her command, who wouldn’t worship her? She smiled bashfully as she scribbled her signature on the scroll and finalized the law.
“How long are we going to be here?” Lallo gestured vaguely. “I rather like this place, to be honest. Softest pillows I’ve ever encountered. It fills me with ebullience.”
Yaretzi rolled her eyes. “Do you just wake up and decide to use the biggest word you know for no reason?”
Her brother grinned cheekily. “As a matter of fact I do, my pulchritudinous little sister. The bigger the better. Bishara likes my magniloquence.”
“She’s the only one.” Yaretzi grumbled.
“It will be a while.” Dejen answered them, quieting the bantering duo with a stern paternal stare. “I estimate some months or more. The soldiers are tired of marching, and we need to secure our position here before even attempting to cross the sea to the Fire Nation. Moreover it would behoove you to learn firsthand how to manage a city-state before you rule a nation. Conquest is only the beginning. These will be your people now, Lu-Ten, who will follow you. Once Hodan recalls her soldiers they will be the ones in your army. They will be the citizens whom you are charged to protect.” The bald man brought another scroll forward. He raised his head at the thunderous knocking on the doors on the other side of the room.
The carved double doors of the audience room groaned as they were pushed open. Lord Gebre entered, his woolen burnoose fluttering behind him as he strode across the space. His countenance was severe, as it often was, although a tad more hypercritical than usual. Lu-Ten straightened his spine and subtly adjusted his collar. Behind him trailed Tenoch.
Lord Gebre bowed curtly in greeting. “Prince Lu-Ten, I have an urgent matter I would like to discuss with you.”
The younger man bristled as he lifted his chin. “Fire Lord Lu-Ten. You shall call me Fire Lord Lu-Ten.”
Lord Gebre’s gaze flickered over to Dejen before returning to the Prince. He cleared his throat loudly as he dipped into a lower bow. “Very well. My apologies, Fire Lord Lu-Ten.”
Tenoch set his mouth in a hard line. “A guest arrived in the middle of the night for you, Fire Lord Lu-Ten. His journey has been an arduous one.” He gestured behind him as Sigei and another guard escorted a third young man into the room. “I bring to you Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.”
Lu-Ten rose quickly. He could feel their eyes on him, watching his every expression, watching the way his shoulders tensed and he resisted the urge to squeeze his fists. He descended the steps of the dais, each stride long and determined, until he was only a few feet away from the young man before him.
His cousin was little more than a boy, scarcely eighteen compared to his twenty-five, a man grown in the eyes of the law but clearly unscathed by the world. Save for his face. Half of his face was horribly burned, covered in pinkish scar tissue that tightened his eye until he was perpetually squinting. The other iris was the same color as Lu-Ten’s own, focused warily on Lu-Ten as he approached. He said nothing.
So this was the usurper’s son. The child that had defied his own father after he raped the wife that the prince had not chosen. Perhaps the only one of the whole despicable family with a modicum of honor. Well as much honor as the abhorrent seed of a deplorable bastard could have. Lu-Ten offered a condescending grin.
“Hello, cousin.”
Notes:
In which Lu-Ten is the asshole cousin and bbygirl Yaretzi stands on business. Zuko’s very confused POV is next.
Chapter 54: The Best Laid Plans of Gods and Men
Chapter Text
Zuko
The dawn air was exceptionally chilly, and absently Zuko remembered that it had rained the night before. His sleep had been restless, as it had been ever since Doctor Chin had deemed him well enough to return to normal. At least, some crude mockery of what was normal. That life had been burned away like half of his face, brutalized and stamped into nonexistence just as Yue’s sense of peace had been. He applied the salve that Doctor Chin had prepared for him, wincing as his fingers prodded the tender flesh. A glance back in the looking glass confirmed that Yue was still sleeping, only her white hair visible from underneath the muslin and linen sheets. Tui had risen, staring back at him. Even though they had constructed a makeshift den for her, more often than not the polar dog would slumber at the foot of the bed or curled by the door. She watched him curiously, leaping gracefully from the bed and padding over to him.
Zuko smiled wanly and extended his hand, massaging the space underneath her ear. “You rise like a firebender now,” he crooned quietly. The dog had been in the Fire Nation for most of her life. He wondered if she had any recollection of the South, if she had the oft-quoted winter in her bones as Water Tribesmen described themselves. Likely not. Out of curiosity he had researched the canines, finding that their double coats defended them from both extreme cold and extreme heat.
Apparently bored with his affection, the polar dog stretched her hind legs and disappeared through the small door that had been cut to allow her in and out.
With numb fingers he dressed, pulling on the embroidered tunic and tapered brown pants that was his customary uniform when visiting the work site. He donned his armor and hooked the ceremonial dagger to his belt. Zuko hesitated as he reached for the Heir’s Crown.
He envisioned himself in the throne room, kneeling before the flame curtain that shielded the Phoenix King from view. ‘ I shall assume that you have learned your lesson. It was by the grace of your mother and sister that I spared your life. Do not forget your place.’ His father had chuckled. ‘ I should hope that mark of disgrace will be a sufficient reminder.’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘ You defied me for a mere girl.’ His father sneered from behind his fiery partition. ‘ Though I must admit that I also quite enjoy her company.’
Zuko clenched his fists at the recollection and regulated his breathing. He had no regrets for challenging his father, but he was the heir to the greatest nation in history. His father could never be defeated. He shot a glance back at Yue’s sleeping form as he gathered his notes. Azula had been the one to rummage through them. Yue had never touched his desk without his permission. It was against her upbringing, she had explained. A man’s business was not to be tainted by a woman. Her main role in life was to be pretty, be charitable, and be fertile. Anything else was questionably a bonus. He crossed the distance back to the bed and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her.
At the disturbance Yue stirred. Her eyes were clouded with sleep. “Where are you going?”
The Prince paused. To burn your home down. I burned my face for you, and in a matter of time the Northern Water Tribe will sink into the sea. His smile was strained. “I have to attend to my assignment,” he answered. Yue was suddenly fully alert. She leaned up and his breath hitched when her cool hand wrapped around his wrist.
“Why?” She asked, tugging him lower. “Do you have to?”
Zuko furrowed his brow. She had never questioned him before. “Yes,” he pried her hand away, “I have to see what damage Azula has done.” The white haired princess hooked her leg around his waist, pulling him on top of her. Zuko bit back a yelp of surprise, careful not to let the weight of his armor fall onto her. “What are you doing?!”
Yue’s eyes glittered in the half-light, her fingers plucking at the laces. “Do you have to?” She mewled as she tossed his armor aside, her legs wrapped around his hips and drawing him closer. Zuko felt his cheeks redden at the sensation of her hands creeping under his shirt. Since their wedding they had…been intimate twice after. (They’re teenagers , he had heard the servants whisper, thank the spirits that the walls are so thick.) The first had been the day of his Agni Kai, at her insistence of taking control of her life, and the second had only been a few days prior and Zuko, being the young man that he was, had been powerless to resist the appeal. He had never known that the feel of a woman’s hands on him would feel so good, almost unbearably so when he locked eyes with her and studied every expression she made. She pressed her hips against his own, gyrating them just so . Enough that Zuko considered abandoning his task. She caressed his hair and pulled his face down into the crook of her neck until he was swathed in the smell of rose scented soap. Eyes half-lidded, Yue reached down and the prince jolted at the contact, hissing through his teeth. She pushed her hips forward and down and Zuko swore to every god listening as he tried to pull away from her.
Well now I don’t want to , he complained internally. Against his better judgment, he stayed. I can be a little late. As fluid as water she switched their positions, planting her hands firmly in the middle of his chest. She grinned almost wolfishly, blue eyes sparkling with a mirth that he wished to see more often. Zuko grinned back.
With equal lighthearted competitiveness, Zuko flipped them again. The princess squeaked and squirmed and he rested his forehead on her chest, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. I should probably…we should probably… Be more careful?
Yue bared her teeth triumphantly. “I’m going to ask again. Do you have to?” She repeated.
He could not find the words to answer. His thoughts were incoherent. Spirits I don’t want to. If it meant they could pass the morning like that, he’d gladly shirk his duties for a day. He exhaled. “Well…yes.” Reluctantly he pushed her bare knee aside, his fingers ghosting along the smooth skin as he stood. “Trust me, I’d rather not-”
Yue pouted. Zuko wasn’t sure what had gotten into her (not that he was complaining, surely not) and part of him wondered how she could find him even remotely attractive with half of his face ruined.
With stars clouding his vision, Zuko stumbled out of his quarters and adjusted his clothing. He was grateful that the halls were devoid of servants who would surely gossip. Let them, part of him said. They were married in the eyes of the gods and those of men, so they were fully entitled to do as they wished.
‘ She’s a hostage, Zuko.’ Azula’s voice echoed.
The palanquin was waiting for him in its usual place with his usual entourage of guards. He kept the same group every time, hand picked by the Ministry of Development to ensure that the project remained a secret. They greeted him amicably, taking note of the goofy smile on his face and hooting in laughter.
To his surprise, two additional figures were waiting for him. Zuko halted. In his customary family armor was Lord Tzumoro and at his side was Zuko’s mother. Confusion coursed through him. Lord Tzumoro had only ventured to the island once or twice, and his mother’s gentle disposition had kept her from being involved in the endeavor. The mere thought of the blasting jelly had made her eyes water. She wore black and red, her gown billowing off her slight frame.
Tzumoro gave the Crown Prince a once-over. “Prince Zuko,” he dipped his head, “I pray your morning has gone well so far.”
“Exceptionally so,” Zuko answered carefully.
The older man cleared his throat. “Please forgive the change in routine. I merely wanted to see the progress for this great endeavor myself. Our Queen also wanted to accompany us.” He nodded in the woman’s direction before taking her soft hand in his own, hoisting her into the palanquin.
Ursa smiled tightly. Zuko’s face burned with embarrassment.
“I would not be opposed to a grandchild,” she whispered for his ears alone.
“Mom, no!” Zuko whispered back, mortified, and his mother giggled.
Zuko sank into his seat. He would rather not discuss adult activities with his mother. His stomach clenched as darker thoughts overtook his mind. His mother was a whore who commingled with another man. His mother had forced him into a mockery of a marriage. His mother had been absent when his father had nearly killed him. His mother had done nothing to protect him. Or Yue. How could they have missed it? It was the way of his father. Zuko had presumed that all of the times he had seen his father watching Yue had been looks of annoyance at having a prisoner in their home. That he was amused by her presence like one was amused by a pet. And at the same time, Ozai was determined to become a god.
And yet Zuko was in a palanquin, headed to a ferry that would carry him to an island where they were producing a weapon that would cause entire generations to suffer. The very people of the girl he had fought his father to protect.
The Prince of the Fire Nation exhaled and unfurled his fists as the palanquin carried them down to the wharf. The sun had not yet completely risen, casting the city outside in a soft pallor. The morning workers were preparing for the day, stopping at the numerous bakeries and shops. Servants scurried about with lists. Zuko silently observed. He had seen the sight many times before, and he had even gone out to pass food to the poorer children in the Caldera. Once a year he ventured to the smaller islands to distribute goods and textiles to the less fortunate. It would benefit their image, his mother had said. Especially his. He was the Crown Prince of a new dynasty. If they knew and loved him, then they would follow without hesitation.
Perhaps they would love him more. Perhaps they would see it as the most romantic tale, of a prince and his winter princess.
His mother was uncharacteristically distracted, twiddling her thumbs in her lap. Lord Tzumoro sat beside her. His yellow-gray eyes rested on Zuko before he looked away. Zuko squinted. Contrary to his mother’s belief, the prince was more politically savvy than she gave him credit for. He was fortunate to have Azula as his ally and not his foe, as her critical thinking solidified the suspicions that Zuko had acquired over the years. Lord Takuma was perhaps the most honorable man in the Fire Nation, and had rolled his dice when he supported Ozai. The Phoenix King had heeded his advice for two decades, and Takuma had served as the Minister of Intelligence both internally and globally.
Until he mysteriously died.
Tzumoro was unquestionably Ozai’s man, and had slipped as readily into the role like the snake on his family crest. He was a puppet master in the shadows, orchestrating the plots that kept the Phoenixes in power. Zuko was no fool. Tzumoro might be his father’s closest advisor, but the Phoenix Queen owned him. That was the way of his mother, he had learned. She moved stealthily, never dirtying her own pretty hands, and Zuko wondered how he had never seen it before.
There had been no reason to see it. He was the heir to the greatest empire to ever exist, he would someday assume the mantle as Phoenix King, his path had been cleared decades ago.
The smell of fish and saltwater grew stronger as they approached the wharf. Early morning saw the arrival of shipments of fruits and other fresh meats and produce from the nearby islands. Garsaiian silks and Arakemeti coffee were popular imports to the capital, so much so that Zuko was surprised by the astronomical prices paid for each shipment. Even still, trade agreements had been written to benefit the Fire Nation for generations to come. But Arakem had turned its back on them. Supplying the Traitor Iroh’s son with almost thirty thousand men was child’s play. It was said that the Arakemeti capital, Al-Kemeda, boasted nearly a million people, one of the most populous countries in the world. Only Laogai surpassed them with close to two million residents in Ba Sing Se alone. Zuko shuddered. If the two nations decided to bear down on them, it would devastate the Fire Nation before they could even launch an offense.
Upon exiting the palanquin, Zuko noticed that the ferry that took him to the island was manned by a different captain. Like his guards, the same man ushered him back and forth, sworn to secrecy under the threat of death. He quirked the one brow remaining. His eyelashes and eyebrow would never grow back, Doctor Chin had explained tersely, as if he did not want to linger on the subject of Zuko’s mutilation any more than the Prince himself did. At the landing was a cluster of guardsmen that Zuko had never seen before. They wore polished armor. At their belts were short swords.
Lord Tzumoro stepped down, wiping imaginary dust from his pants. Zuko’s mother was a step behind, a smile stretched across her face that appeared stilted and overly controlled, as if she wore a theater mask.
A belly deep sense of inexplicable foreboding washed over him. He raised his head to look up at the bleeding dawn sky. It was early still. The wharf was quiet.
“Good morning, my prince. And to you, my queen. As radiant as always.” The captain bowed to Zuko and then to his mother, kissing her hand when she offered it to him. “Jian-jian wasn’t feeling well, unfortunately.” He was taller, perhaps the same age as Zuko’s mother and father, with narrow pale gray eyes. Recent Air Nomad ancestry, most likely. Fire Nation soldiers were known to partake in the goods the airbender nuns had to offer, and more than one soldier had brought home their gray eyed bastard rather than let them grow up in the Air Temples. Their place in proper society was tenuous. They fell in the same category as the green eyed Earth Kingdom children of the caldera: queer trinkets better left on shelves, curios for the affluent. “I, humble Tenzin of the House of the Fruitbat, am honored to be at your service.”
Tenzin. That was an Air Nomad name. Perhaps the man’s mother had put up a fight before he was taken away from her, and perhaps his father had cared enough for the woman that he allowed her to name their son. The Fruitbats were an obscure clan, hardly ever seen in the circles of the elite, but it seemed that Tenzin had made himself known.
“Even though my father’s wife would prefer if I didn’t smear the family name with my Nomadic blood,” Tenzin said as if he read Zuko’s thoughts. “She would have preferred that he left me in the hills. Bastardy is a stain that doesn’t wash out easily. But here I am, serving the Royal Family, while her sons live in winesinks and brothels.”
Ursa flashed her teeth in a courteous smile as they boarded the ferry. She drew her shawl tighter. “You and your sister are made of stronger disposition than your mother,” she jested, “for you to meditate so early in weather like this.”
It came naturally at this point. He and Azula had been roused from their beds as children and herded to the courtyard where their father waited for them. He had been their firebending teacher after they had been taught the fundamentals. His instruction had been brusque and relentless, and his compliments were nigh nonexistent but in his better moods Zuko could remember Ozai tossing them both in the air with what had to have been a genuine smile. The trips to Ember Island had been filled with joy. His father had set decorum aside, chasing his golden children and carrying his wife over the sand. Zuko turned to face the water. Was it possible to love and hate his father at the same time? And his mother as well, whose hands were just as soiled?
The ferry felt crowded with the additional passengers. The unfamiliar guardsmen had yet to speak beyond the courtesies. Zuko’s men eyed them with apprehension and it seemed as though Tzumoro was ignoring them. Zuko’s mother was the only one who acknowledged them, exchanging the customary pleasantries and meaningless conversation that highborn women were known for.
It did not take long for them to arrive at the dock. The production was already underway. The men had worked tirelessly in alternating shifts, refining and storing tons of blasting jelly. The final ton was to be completed within the next few weeks. They were ahead of schedule and had surpassed the construction of the shipping vessel. Until its completion they would keep the volatile substance at the warehouse. Each day they drew closer to fulfilling the Phoenix King’s heinous goal.
“Prince Zuko, may I see your notes if you don’t mind? I would like to familiarize myself with the current progress before we reach the warehouse.” Lord Tzumoro held out his hands. “I must admit there is much I do not know about this matter, and it shames me. Its construction will prove that our nation can rise to greater heights.” The smile he offered was thin, perhaps a tad more strained than usual. He had always had the air of walking on thin ice, though perhaps it was because he spent most of his days trailing the Phoenix King and trying to avoid being killed in the process.
With trepidation the golden eyed prince relinquished his folder. The older man tucked it under his arm. Their eyes met. Tzumoro’s expression was unreadable.
As one unit the unfamiliar men stepped forward. They formed a half circle around Zuko and his companions. They turned to look at Lord Tzumoro. He nodded.
The first man stepped forward and in one clean motion, he slit the throat of the guard closest to Zuko.
Zuko gasped, crashing into his mother as the armed men made quick work of his unsuspecting acquaintances. He suppressed the desire to firebend. One errant spark and the entire island would incinerate. Blood sank into the soil of the island like a libation, like some cruel offering to whatever god who was hateful enough to accept it. Bile choked him. Lord Tzumoro had thrown his arm out across Zuko’s chest as each of the guardsmen fell in a red heap. “What’s going on?!” He shouted and spun around to grab his mother.
She was out of reach, watching the carnage coolly. Upon feeling the baffled and horrified countenance of her eldest child, she sighed raggedly. She stepped over the dead bodies.
“What’s going on?!” Zuko exclaimed once more.
Her face crumbled and paled, falling into the expression of sadness that she had worn since the discovery of the Phoenix King’s most recent wrongdoing. His mother began to cry. “Everything I have done has been for you, my darling boy. For you and Azula. Never forget that. Promise me you will remember.” She collapsed into his arms, pressing desperate kisses to his cheeks and eyelids, tracing his face with her fingers. The dichotomy of her maternal grief and the blood soaking her slippers would forever be burned into Zuko’s mind.
Tzumoro had moved to the left of him. “May the gods be with you, Prince Zuko.”
Something hard connected with the back of Zuko’s head. He cried out as he fell forward and the last thing he saw was his mother’s face white like the moon and her eyes shimmering like stars.
——
‘ You have always been my least favorite child.’
‘Don’t be a disappointment.’
‘You have always been my least favorite child.’
‘A girl that if I so desired-’
‘You defy me for a girl.’
‘I could bend her over right this moment and make you watch.’
‘You have always been my least favorite child.’
He came alive to the rocking of a boat. A throbbing pain had settled in the back of his head where it met the soft pillow. His father’s voice echoed in his mind. His mouth was dry and sour. He was aware that he was lying on a bed, staring up at the ceiling of the belly of a ship. Zuko sat up quickly, banging his head on the low ceiling. He yelped. It was lower than I thought. Rubbing the top of his head, Zuko slid down from the bunk bed and hit the floor.
He was in a ship’s quarters. The Phoenix King’s sigil hung above a Fire Nation banner in the corner and a lamp lit the room.
The sea rolled beneath his feet. He could hear the clanging of boots outside the door and he realized that the ship was an armored vessel, not unlike the ones that had been deployed to the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko went to the door and yanked on the handle, cursing loudly when he found it locked from the outside. He slammed his palm against the door. “Let me out!” He demanded to whoever was on the other side. “Let me out!”
The pacing boots stopped abruptly. A set of keys rattled and the door creaked as it opened. On the other side was a pair of men in leather armor. One had piercing green eyes and copper hair, while the other had the typical Fire Nationer features. He recognized him from the group of guardsmen that had slaughtered Zuko’s entourage. “Prince Zuko,” the green eyed man bowed, “my apologies.”
The Crown Prince brushed the men aside, stepping out into the corridor of the ship. He whirled to face them. “Tell me what’s going on,” he snarled, “where are we? What happened to me?” His eyes scanned the hall that was devoid of all people except for the three of them. “Where is Tzumoro? And my mother?”
“In the capital, my lord,” the green eyed man responded. He hesitated. “Perhaps it is better if Lady Nao explained everything to you. There is much to be explained and much to be discussed.” He flitted about.
Lady Nao? The name did not sound familiar. Zuko summoned fire to his palms, not quite allowing it to fully escape as he trailed the two men down the dim corridor and up the steel steps to the deck. The sky was overcast, as if it was threatening rain, and the endless sea below was beginning to roil. Crew members in Fire Nation red moved about. They were true sailors, not naval men, who turned to stare at him as he appeared behind the two armed men.
A woman stood at the prow. In spite of the oceanic chill, she wore a qipao of jade silk embroidered with amber flying foxes at the hem. Her thick hair was pulled high on the top of her head. She turned as the three of them approached and Zuko saw that she was around the same age as his parents, her skin untouched by weather and sun. “Prince Zuko.”
Beside her stood a young girl no more than seven, whose hauntingly large moss colored eyes studied him.
She was a wraith whose cedar brown skin was splattered with freckles, though Zuko could see the unquestionable resemblance between the two.
“Lady Nao,” the green eyed man saluted her in what Zuko knew to be the traditional greeting of Garsai. “Our guest has finally awakened.”
Lady Nao inclined her head. “It is my pleasure to meet our Phoenix Prince, though I wish the circumstances were different. Thank you, Zaakir, you and Tanaka are dismissed.” She waved her hand and Zuko’s escorts slid away. The woman quirked her head. “Only the blind would believe that you are not your father’s son,” she said, “and yet those nasty rumors spread like weeds.”
Zuko jolted. “What?!”
The Garsaiian woman smirked in a way that was reminiscent of Azula. “Prince Zuko, there is much you don’t know. Please, follow me to my quarters for a cup of tea.” She turned, leading him and presumably her young daughter to a lavish cabin just above the forequarters of the sailors. It was split into two rooms, the first of which was decorated in green and lavender, and within which was a table with a kettle of tea already prepared. She gestured for the Crown Prince to sit opposite of her. The woman’s daughter poured them both a cup of ginseng before taking a seat at her mother’s elbow.
Lady Nao took a sip, peering at him from over the rim of her cup. She had the same moss green irises as the child next to her, though hers were rimmed with flecks of pyrite. “It is natural that you have many questions. You must first understand that your mother has loved you dearly. You must also understand that your mother has connections that run deep.” She set the cup down. “She and Lord Tzumoro did what they thought was best for you.”
Zuko waited, his heart in his throat.
“The Phoenix King had intentions to kill you,” her tone was matter-of-fact. “Because in some awful way, he began to think that you are a bastard. That the Phoenix Queen had made a fool of him. When your mother caught wind of his intentions, she and Tzumoro made arrangements with our mutual friends. And here you are. On the way to Garsai.” She thrummed her fingers against the wood. “It is safe for you there. At least for the time being. I have friends in the capital. They are not your mother’s friends, but for all intents and purposes, you are my child.” Her head tilted. “Well you’re not a child anymore, are you? Wedded, sharing a bed with your lovely little wife.”
His mind was abuzz with a swarm of thoughts, each bouncing restlessly off the other until there was no coherency. His father had been intent on killing him. What about Yue? And his mother…
“Where is my mother?” He asked finally.
Lady Nao’s countenance darkened and she focused on a point somewhere over Zuko’s shoulder. “Prince Zuko…I…seldom does everything go exactly as planned. I…I’m sorry.”
Zuko shook his head vehemently. No no no. “What are you saying? What are you saying? What are you saying?!” He gripped the table and flipped it over, sending the kettle and tea cups to the floor. Ceramic fragments showered the floor. Zuko exhaled through his nose, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “What are you saying?!”
Lady Nao shielded her daughter, her own expression guarded. “I cannot say for certain, my prince, but it is known that your father is not a forgiving man.” She fidgeted. “Your mother is a clever woman. Over the decades we have exchanged letters. More than once she has invited me to the caldera.” Absently she combed her fingers through her child’s hair. “But your father has never been known for his kindness.”
Hot tears sprang to his eyes. “You’re lying,” he choked the words out. “Where is she? Where’s my sister? Where is Yue?”
Yue.
She was alone in the caldera, with the exception of Azula. Zuko, perhaps misguidedly, entrusted his sister with the task of ensuring Yue’s safety. Azula had declared her intention to uphold the promise, but he knew there was only so much Azula could do without jeopardizing herself. Besides, first and foremost his sister was self-serving. Though they loved each other (as much as Azula could love anyone), she had calculated the risks and benefits of Zuko’s request. How long would Yue truly be safe?
And of the Project? Tzumoro had confiscated his notes. Azula had kept the rest. It was nearing the final turn of completion, soon the blasting jelly would be loaded onto the vessel as the Phoenix King would issue the order of departure for the Northern Water Tribe.
Zuko felt ill.
Taking note of his pallor, Lady Nao patted his hand. “They are still in the Fire Nation, in the caldera. I cannot attest to Tzumoro and Ursa’s plans for them, however I suspect they will be able to remain unscathed. It is you, Prince Zuko, who is in danger. But enough of that. We will reach the western coast of Garsai within the next day. And then you will see the world outside of that decadent bubble of yours.”
In the day before they reached Garsai he learned that Lady Azumi Nao was the owner of the Heavenbound , one of her numerous trading carracks that sailed from Garsai to Kyoshi and every nation between. She was the heiress of a mercantile empire in the province of Shedai in the coastal region of Garsai. She was accompanied by her eldest son, Zaakir who had been fathered by a Fire Nationer, and her young daughter Zhuli.
The principal city Geerah of the province of Shedai appeared on the skyline. It was a city of stucco and stone, of high arched entrances and open windows. It spread in seven directions: North, South, East, West, Southwest, Northwest, and West North West. “Seven was a holy number to our ancestors,” Lady Azumi Nao explained, “and the sunset is when our patron spirit-god Nuwana was born.” She lifted her chin as the ship eased into the port. “They call Garsai the Flower of the West, as you can imagine why.”
Zuko nodded absently.
Azumi watched him from the corner of her eye, as if sensing that he was becoming undone. He had suppressed the urge to fall apart, instead choosing to think of something else ( anything else) as opposed to letting the thoughts of his mother and Yue consume him. He would find a way back home. His mother was fine. Yue was fine. Father had forgiven him. It was all a misunderstanding. All a misunderstanding.
Surely.
Azumi Nao owned a number of houses throughout Shedai and the main state of Gan-tan, each just as extravagant as the next. Her main residence in Geerah overlooked the port, and in the days that it took Zuko to settle, he had grown used to the constant smell of saltwater. It was stronger here than it was back home in the caldera and the breeze was a bit cooler. Yet the feel of the breeze on his skin barely registered, and the vivacious colors of Geerah were muted and somber. A weight had settled in Zuko’s stomach that refused to leave no matter how many days passed.
His mother was dead.
Azumi Nao had neither confirmed nor denied, perhaps to prevent Zuko from brashly escaping back to the Caldera and returning to a death trap. For all of his misguided optimism, Zuko knew her words to be true. His father intended to murder him.
His mother was dead.
The thought of it felt unreal. He did not want to believe. There were a lot of things that Zuko did not want to believe. That was his way, as Li and Lo had always said. He buried his head in the sand and worried while Azula faced the world head on. Azula would have never been burned. Azula would have never been forced into a marriage she didn’t want. Azula would not have let their mother die.
The sob erupted from him, sounding more like a roar than anything else, and he reached in vain for something ( anything) . The room that Azumi had given him was muted and minimalistic, there were no vases or expensive trinkets that would fall victim to the outbursts of a young man. The walls were made of stone and Zuko had no desire to break his wrist. The prince sat heavily in the low chair in the center of the room and put his head in his hands.
His mother was dead.
An abrupt knock snapped him from his thoughts. Zuko looked up as Lady Nao strode in. She was alone and in her arms she carried what appeared to be a wooden box. With her foot she nudged the door shut. She had the grace to not mention his state of disarray as she knelt at the low table across from him. “Your mother will not come back.” Lady Nao stated as she primly set down the box. “You are a man grown. I do not mean to be so cold, and truly I can never imagine your grief. But time does not allow us to fall apart.”
The box was a Pai Sho board which she methodically assembled. On each side she set down a white lotus token and a red lotus tile. “There’s a whole collegiate society that studies the intricacies of Pai Sho at the college. A bunch of graybeards with nothing better to do. You have the renowned scientists who make breakthroughs in engineering and medicine, and then you have…that.” Pushing the chrysanthemum tile in a straight line, Lady Azumi indicated Zuko’s turn.
I don’t want to play this stupid game, Zuko grumbled sourly, although he moved the boat tile all the same.
The middle aged woman raised a brow. “You’ll never win if you play like that.” She nudged her white jade token three places diagonally and seized Zuko’s rhododendron. “There’s a guaranteed way to win. Jasmine one-seven, rose two-six.” She moved the tiles as she spoke, “white lily three-six, chrysanthemum four-six. The scholars say this is wrong, but true players know this is foolproof. White Jade five six, rhododendron six-six. Knotweed five two.” She snatched up all of Zuko’s tiles save for one. Her eyes met his. “And the last, my dear: Dragon two five.”
Flabbergasted at her victory, Zuko’s jaw dropped. “How?! There’s no way, that’s- that’s cheating!”
Azumi Nao giggled. “Don’t be a sore loser. If you play like this then you can skip your partner’s turns. You’ve just been playing with the wrong people.” She set the pieces back on the board. “Again.”
Zuko furrowed his brow. He moved the dragon tile six paces and then four. She can’t be right.
The woman groaned loudly. “You young people always think you know everything.” In a flurry of moves she began to sweep the board piece by piece before once more setting the pile under Zuko’s nose. “The path forks but always arrives at the same destination. Again.”
The prince pushed the board away. “I don’t want to play your stupid game,” he replied belligerently.
“Very well,” she hummed, “I’ll let you brood and mope for now. We will have guests at dinner. Save that adolescent angst for later.” She left the game on the table and straightened out her tunic.
The mansion’s dining hall was just as austere as the rest of the house, which never failed to surprise Zuko. He would think that a woman as rich as Azumi would bedeck her residence with heirlooms and treasures from her various endeavors. When Zuko stepped into the room he saw that the woman was already seated with her children on each side of her.
Zaakir smiled amicably. He was in his early twenties by Zuko’s estimate, which confused him even more about Azumi’s age. Zhuli offered her own wordless greeting. To her left sat two individuals that Zuko had never seen in the weeks he had been residing under Lady Nao’s roof. Weeks. Had it really been that long? The days had passed in a blur. He had spent them with Lady Nao or Zaakir, who was also a firebender and was savvy enough to keep Zuko’s thoughts on anything but his current circumstances.
Their guests were clad in plain black clothing, bare of any finery. The man was of a thin frame and his hair was a fire kissed red. When he looked at Zuko, the prince saw that his eyes were the stormy gray of the Air Nomads. The woman was exceptionally tall with the look of one of those from the elusive Tribes of Si-Wong. Lady Nao nodded at each of them. “Prince Zuko, please meet two of my dear friends. Tsughara and Ishragha.”
The man, Tsughara, inclined his head. “A pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard much about you in the last few weeks.” He offered no further explanation.
When Ishragha declined to speak, Azumi coughed elegantly. “We’ve known each other for quite some time, you see. I was fortunate to have two such lovely groups of friends. The Phoenix Queen on one side and my fellow elders on another. And now the two sides are one.” She paused as servants began to bring in the main course of the meal, setting down steaming plates in front of each of them along with two decanters of wine. “Ah ah ah,” Lady Nao pointed at Zhuli, “pear juice for the little one.”
Once the girl’s beverage was set before her and the servants had cleared the room, Lady Nao’s pleasant demeanor vanished. “I will not pretend that you were brought here for no reason, nor that my guests just happened to be passing through,” she said frankly, “Time is of the essence. I will speak and you will listen.”
Zuko felt a chill dig into his bones. His eyes darted to the door.
“These two standing before you are Pai Sho players,” Azumi’s moss green eyes sparkled, “and they know the guaranteed way to win. We all do, in our ancient little secret club.” Tsughara chuckled. “And these Pai Sho players are the ones who will save your life.”
His mind reeled, unable to comprehend anything that had happened in the last few weeks. His fingernails dug into the wooden table.
The merchant woman gave him a cool once-over. “The Phoenix Queen and I were friends, it’s true. Yet we were business partners first and foremost.Your father wants to kill you. Had your mother not acted in time, he would have. Your mother paid me to keep you safe by any means necessary.” As a gesture of her own maternal instinct she laid a hand on Zhuli’s head. “I am a well known woman in Garsai, and my country is a close ally of yours. Even if you were to hide away at the College in Gaahi, you would risk being discovered.”
“And so she called upon us.” Ishragha had a voice like falling sand. “We of the Order of the White Lotus have friends far and wide. Some of whom have been involved with decades of political maneuvering.” The woman looked at Zuko as if he was something underneath her shoe. “For women like Azumi, that means aligning herself with the enemy.”
The enemy.
My family is the enemy .
The older adults were observing him, as if waiting for any flicker of the insanity that had ravaged his family for generations. It existed in his father. What sane man would maim their own flesh and blood? The same man that killed his own brother. The same man who was prepared to watch a babe die in its crib. The same man that intends to become a god. His family was the enemy.
His family was the enemy.
Zuko held his breath. “And what does that mean for me?”
Azumi Nao smiled coyly. “Prince Zuko, you are going to meet your cousin.”
———
Much to Zuko’s dismay and embarrassment, he was ill-prepared for the hard travel across the country. He had never actually “ journeyed” anywhere. His trips to the islands had been via a ferry, and his uni-horse rides throughout the capital and surrounding forestry had been leisurely. The first two days of riding a cheezebra left him bruised and sore. The creature ran fast and hard, jostling him in the saddle. They traveled along the Vein of Commerce that connected all of the Earth Kingdoms. It was a highway well traveled.
Ishragha rode ahead on her own mount, a cheezebra that she affectionately christened Steadyfoot, who seemed just as regal and distant as her mistress. Zuko’s own was Slowclimber (which was a lie and whoever named him was the biggest ass to ever walk the earth), who seemed determined that he would cross Garsai in three days or die trying. If he killed his rider in the process then oh well.
They passed through Garsai and through the unclaimed lands between the Nation of Seven Flowers and Arakem, which Zuko knew to have huge swaths of land riddled with forests, rivers, and plains that poured into the Estival Peninsula. They skirted along the Vein of Commerce, lodging in caravansaries and hostels, never lingering for more than a day lest rumor spread of a hideously scarred Fire Nationer traveling with an Air Nomad and a desert-dweller.
Wherever they went, Tsughara and Ishragha played Pai Sho with certain individuals, and everytime they recited the same order of moves: Jasmine one-seven, rose two-six, white lily three-six, chrysanthemum four-six. White Jade five six, rhododendron six-six. Knotweed five two. And always, always dragon two five. It was their greeting, those of the Order of the White Lotus, of those who conspired against the enemy.
“The Order is also assisting the Water Tribe boy.” Ishragha always said things bluntly, never one for needless conversation to fill a void of silence. She made Zuko feel awkward and inadequate whenever she looked at him. The look she gave him now was no different. “That is until the Queen of Taku sabotaged him at the order of the Phoenix Queen with earthbenders and elite firebenders.” At his incredulous look she rolled her eyes. “Your mother was as cruel and ruthless as your father, although she was quite prettier.”
“My mother would never-” Yes she would. Zuko swallowed back the lump that had begun to form in his throat.
Tsughara hummed. “He’s hunkered down somewhere near Tosoura to heal. If he ever will.” His gray eyes leveled Zuko where he sat. “You are not your family’s mistakes,” the Air Nomad declared. “You will carry the torch of a new generation, you and your cousin, and rectify what’s been sullied and defiled.”
I will not be my father.
They received notice that SunWatch had surrendered to Lu-Ten and his army weeks before they arrived. The governor had committed suicide rather than face the wrath of a dragon.
The citadel of SunWatch was not quite as decadent as the palace of the Phoenix King. Its function was quite different. It was the gateway from the Earth Kingdoms to the Fire Nation, the first colony of permanently residing firebenders outside of the archipelago, a fortification of the Fire Nation’s interests.
And now dragon banners hung from the high gates, and real dragons circled the skies.
Fear and awe battled within him. He had seen pictures of the creatures, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him. Tens of thousands of Arakemeti soldiers gathered outside of the high walls of SunWatch and two red dragons overhead. The very creatures that had burned people. Zuko recalled the tragedy of the men at the outpost. They had met their unfortunate demise under the flames of a dragon’s wrath. Tsughara had been more willing to offer information about Lu-Ten, and had explained that he had been raised amongst indigenous sun-worshipers that held mystical connections with the dragons, and one of the creatures had bonded with him. The other had joined him not long after he reemerged in society after the Phoenix Queen’s failed assasination attempt. An attempt that had failed due to the strange sorcery of Lu-Ten’s wife.
A number of earthbender commanders surrounded them as they rode into the city proper. They were led by a graying sun-worshiper whose solemn face twisted as Zuko approached. Tsughara and Ishragha greeted him warmly and the man introduced himself as Tenoch. He had rescued Lu-Ten during the coup all those years ago, cloistering him in the jungle city of his homeland until the right moment.
Zuko needed no introduction. They all knew who he was: the prince with the ruined face. Tenoch made a concerted effort to not focus too much on Zuko’s scar. Many of the greybeards that Zuko met had failed.
“It should be advised, Prince Zuko, that Prince err… Fire Lord Lu-Ten is…mercurial.” Tenoch spoke strangely, the edges of his words colored by a queer accent that Zuko could not quite place. “There may be times where he may say things-”
“What Tenoch means to say is that your cousin does not like you. It would not be far-fetched to say that he hates you.” Ishragha had no reservations.
“Oh okay. That’s nice.” Zuko cleared his throat.
Tenoch and Lord Dejen, an Arakemeti man who had also been assigned to Lu-Ten, gave Zuko and his traveling companions several days to recover from the journey. The four elders slipped away, perhaps to compare notes over tea and Pai Sho tiles, until Tenoch at last deemed it time to unite the two branches of the House of Sozin.
Zuko held his breath.
The walk to the audience chamber in SunWatch’s main keep felt both too long and too short. Zuko could hear the echo of his boots on the polished stone floor, acutely aware that each step brought him closer and closer still. He could hear voices that grew hushed as he and Tenoch approached, and after several long moments the doors swung open.
Lu-Ten did not match the image that Zuko had crafted in his head. He had expected his cousin to be slender and nefarious, with a face that resembled a rat’s and beady plotting eyes. He was quite the opposite. He was lean and handsome, nearly identical to Ozai except for the fact that his features did not seem so…fearsome. He sat upon the black dais and looked down from the rostrum. Even seated Zuko could see that he was tall. He bore all of the traits that made their family so comely. In his black and green armor, with a longsword at his knee, it was clear that he was a son of the House of Sozin.
At his side stood a short indigenous woman not much older than Zuko himself. Her copper brown skin glowed and Zuko glanced down at her thickening waist. His wife. Catching his eye from where she stood, Lu-Ten’s wife offered a tenuous smile. She did not look like a witch, but Zuko had heard the tale of her burning a man alive.
Spirits, if Azula ever learned how to do that then we would all be doomed. She would go around scorching men for the sheer joy of it.
Lu-Ten said nothing for a long time. Zuko resisted the urge to fidget. Why did it seem that his scrutiny was even more intense than Ozai’s? Zuko could feel his criticism. “Any fool that believed you were a bastard deserves to have his eyes gouged and flung into a river,” Lu-Ten spoke at last. “You have your father’s face. Or rather what’s left of it. I know this because time and time again they have told me that I could pass as him in his youth. I was three years old when they snatched me from my bed. The memories I have of the palace and my parents are scant and few. You grew up within the comfort of those gates and pagodas, the golden child of a new dynasty. A new branch of the House of Sozin, which had reigned as dragons for so long.” Lu-Ten laughed dryly. “You slept in the room that was meant to be mine. You wore the crown that was meant to be mine. The people knew your face when they should have known mine .”
His accent was queer like Tenoch’s, a result of having spent his life with the indigenous sun worshipers and learning their manner of speaking and cultural customs. His appearance may scream Fire Nationer, but his accent did not.
I didn’t ask to be born like this. We can’t choose the families we are born into. He would’ve chosen a different father. Perhaps a different mother as well. “I am no longer my father’s heir.”
The older man stepped down from the platform and began to pace slow, predatory circles around Zuko. The younger prince refused to let his back stay turned, mirroring every movement of Lu-Ten’s with his own. There was an almost bestial gleam in his eye that suggested he enjoyed the thrill of a pursuit. He resembled Ozai. It was true. Their family was cursed with the propensity for going mad. Lu-Ten studied him. “Clearly. However, I see that you have more honor than the craven that fathered you. I’ve little respect for men who kill their brothers, try to murder their nephews, rape teenage girls, and burn their sons. Renounce your claim to the throne, cousin, and you will keep your life.”
Zuko swallowed and realized he was unable to find the right words. He could sense the air growing warmer. Lu-Ten assessed him, fists clenching at his sides. Just as quickly the man relaxed and then beamed at him.
“You can keep your title, but not your claim. You are my cousin, and unlike your reviled father, I am not quite a monster. Rest assured you will not suffer the consequences of your father’s actions. I don’t have a soulless woman whispering in my ear like he did. She was the real orchestrator, yes? Your father is not the brilliant man he seems to be. Every success, every plot was devised by your mother. Having her killed was his greatest folly.” His brow twitched. “You will remain Prince Zuko, heir to nothing.” Lu-Ten nodded curtly, clearly leaving no space for debate. “I am no kinslayer, because Ozai is not my kin. He is a worm to be crushed underfoot. But you are my cousin. In exchange for your life, you will help me take the capital. We will destroy your father. Are we in agreement?”
Zuko shot nervous glances at Tenoch, wordlessly pleading for some sort of direction. Tenoch gave a tiny gesture of encouragement. “We are,” Zuko replied.
Lu-Ten patted him on the shoulder. “I knew we would. Dejen, has my cousin been fed?”
“Not since this morning,” the dark skinned man answered.
Lu-Ten raised his hand and his wife and the man who was clearly her brother joined him. The priestess’s brother regarded him curiously. “I’m Lallo by the way. Soon to be Lord Lallo once I get a nice beachfront holding in the Fire Nation. That big headed brat is Yaretzi. Your future overlord- I mean Queen!”
The young woman was much smaller than her husband, and his severe expression made her appear much younger as well. If she was truly the same age or a little older than Zuko, then that must have made her eighteen or nineteen at the most. “Must you do this now?”
Tenoch put his arm between the siblings, steering them out of the audience chamber. “No, you mustn’t. Please, Prince Zuko should see the more respectable half of his family, yes?” He glanced back at Dejen. “He is an esteemed guest.”
“By my goodwill,” Lu-Ten snapped, though he did not object as the two elders led them down the corridor towards the inner sanctum of SunWatch. He walked slowly, lingering paces behind the others, and reached out to grab Zuko’s elbow. “Zuko.”
Zuko looked down at his cousin’s fingers digging into his sleeve before turning his head to watch the others continue down the hall. “Cousin.”
Without warning Lu-Ten had pounced, gathering fistfuls of Zuko’s collar before he could react. A barbarous snarl marred his countenance and his eyes were glazed with an animalistic fury. The taller man swung him until Zuko felt his spine connect with the wall, pathetically pinned by Lu-Ten’s grip on his shirt. “It is by my goodwill that you breathe. But if you dare try to usurp me then I will make sure that you join your bitch mother.”
The younger prince lashed out, his fist connecting with Lu-Ten’s jaw. Lu-Ten stumbled back with his jaw dropping in astonishment. Fire sprang to life at Zuko’s fingertips. “You will not disrespect my mother.” Zuko bared his teeth and allowed the fire to form into daggers, lifting one hand to Lu-Ten’s throat. “You will not.”
A familiar glint appeared in Lu-Ten’s eye, the same that Zuko had often seen in Azula’s. Lu-Ten focused on something over Zuko’s shoulder and deflated, once more offering a genial pat on Zuko’s arm.
Yaretzi had returned, standing at the end of the hall and wringing her hands. Zuko was unsure of what she had seen of the exchange. “Lu-Ten, Dejen was calling for you.” Her expression was guarded. “I told him I would come find you two. Dejen would like to have a word with you.”
Lu-Ten softened visibly, almost gliding across the floor as he approached his beloved sorceress. Her dark eyes flitted over to Zuko. She nudged Lu-Ten in front of her with a gentle guiding hand.
“Lu-Ten can be…abrasive.” Yaretzi spoke slowly and quietly, as if to curtail her accent. “You mustn’t- it would serve you well to stay away from him. At least for now.” She offered him an apologetic smile. They were scarcely a year apart, but to think that she was almost a mother was baffling. She would give birth to the next generation of Azulon’s descendants, a child who would be Zuko’s cousin, a child who would one day (if Lu-Ten was to succeed) ascend the throne that Zuko had been groomed to sit upon. “Sometimes he is not…well.”
It’s the blood of Sozin, Zuko wanted to say. You married into the wrong family. Yue was married into the wrong family. “I didn’t expect it to be like this.”
The young woman’s features crinkled in a bitter half-grin. “All plans can go awry,” she responded cryptically. If Lu-Ten, still sauntering ahead of them, overheard then he chose not to respond. Yaretzi watched him, a strange amalgamation of timeless wisdom and anxiety that suggested she knew more than she would disclose, and somewhere outside one of the dragons roared.
———
Zuko learned two things.
First, dragons were by far the most awesome and terrifying creatures in existence. Izon and Izara roamed the skies as they pleased, hunting their own koala-sheep and returning occasionally to roost close to the castle. At dawn he could almost always see a human figure settled between Izon’s wings and for several hours the halls could breathe in peace. Izara was never far from Yaretzi, baring her teeth at whatever unfortunate soul that drew too close. That included Zuko, who was relegated to admiring from afar.
Two, the Order of the White Lotus had conspired against him long before the Traitor Iroh’s death.
Well, not him but rather his House. Sozin had aspired for more than what he had been given, crafting alliances and turning enemies into friends. Throughout his seventy year reign he had led his House into a prosperity previously unseen. Even still, the nations had remained divided and autonomous. The Air Nomads were crippled first, until their temples were nearly desecrated and the Fire Nation entered when they so wished. The larger Earth Kingdoms had played the game wisely. The Fire Nation, despite its strength, would never match their strength.
During the years of Azulon, the Order realized that they had made a terrible mistake. The Traitor Iroh (who perhaps was not a traitor after all) had been a member of the Order of the White Lotus after his studies in Laogai. He had aimed to establish a new era of peace and prosperity not fueled by imperialism, even if it meant upending his own country. But as such, even the best laid, meticulously organized plans of the Order had been torn asunder when Ozai and his wife overthrew Iroh.
Zuko realized, with a wrenching sense of disillusionment, that he had been born on the wrong side.
He was savvy enough to notice the elders and the generals watching Lu-Ten warily, noting every outburst and eye twitch. It became clear to Zuko that his cousin was fighting a war within himself. It would be overly generous to say that Lu-Ten was pleasant to him, or even cordial, although Zuko had heeded Yaretzi’s advice and steered clear of his cousin whenever possible. On the other hand Yaretzi had taken to him relatively quickly, so much so that Zuko often found himself entangled with the entourage of young Arakemeti women whom Yaretzi called her friends. He wondered if it was the Order’s way of keeping an eye on him or if she genuinely enjoyed his company, though he leaned towards the latter.
Yaretzi sat across from him on one of the terraces of SunWatch’s buildings, overlooking the main courtyard where the dragons currently nested. They had finished a spar not long ago and now settled for a light meal alone. Lu-Ten had taken off on one of his solitary flights and Yaretzi’s brother was with Tenoch and the other elders, leaving Yaretzi to demonstrate the ways of the indigenous firebenders.
The Sun Warriors, as they called themselves, had a completely different bending style that emulated the undulating movements of the dragons.
Zuko had taken to trying to imitate her fluid style of firebending that was so different from his own. We are the descendants of the first firebenders, Yaretzi had boasted, the ones that learned from Tenochizun and Citlali.
He had not known who those gods were. Yaretzi had explained that they were primordial gods, the parents of his chief god Agni. As one of Citlali’s priestesses, the woman had learned the ancient practices of magical firebending, and though she tried to teach him the secrets of her goddess, neither the prayers nor the rituals came to him.
Yaretzi nursed a cup of tea meant to settle her stomach. Zuko could not fathom the idea of waking up everyday and vomiting as the result of sharing your body with another person. Everyone from Arakem seemed to dote on her, especially Dejen and Tenoch, bringing her foods and teas meant to ensure her health.
Catching the way he eyed her belly, Yaretzi beamed as she set down the teacup. “I haven’t felt it kick yet,” she admitted, “but everyone says it will be soon.”
Zuko hummed. “Do you want a girl or a boy? What would you name him? Or her?”
Yaretzi sipped. “Ziomara for a girl. A boy…he will need a traditional name. A Fire Nationer name. Your islands have different naming customs, no?”
“They used to, back during the time of the warlords.” Ziomara . He tested the name. It was undeniably indigenous. A girl had more leeway. Girls would forever fall under the shadow of a brother’s shine. However, a boy of the House of Sozin had to have the look and the name. “Any ideas?”
The young woman seemed to ponder. “Certainly not Azulon. Iroh might be acceptable. A powerful name for a powerful firebender.”
“Like my sister. Her flames are blue.”
Yaretzi straightened, intrigued. “Blue?! I’ve never…” she opened her hand and revealed fire with pink and green at the edges. Witch’s fire. “I am able to do this because I know how to harness the magic of the dragons. If your sister were to learn from us, she would easily become one of the most powerful benders in the world.” Her eyes twinkled as she rested her chin in her palms. “Tell me more about your country.”
Zuko considered it. The Fire Nation had always been just that: the Fire Nation. He knew a myriad of useless facts about other countries, and how the geopolitics of the world had been bent to the Fire Nation’s benefit, but he had never considered what it might look like from a foreigner’s perspective. A foreigner who might eventually sit upon the throne. “My family, my father, exists in every aspect of life. He controls education, the economy, and culture. If my father wills it, then it is so. With that said, the archipelago as a whole loves him. They’re as fiercely devoted to our dynasty as the Arakemeti are devoted to the Hyeagles or the Southern Water Tribe to the Polar Bear Dogs.” And yet to think that his father would undo it all. “Well, they were.”
The young woman offered him one of the wry half-smiles that said she had the ear of the gods where normal men did not. “The Phoenix plucked feathers from its own tail, yes?” For a while she was silent, observing the dragons below. “Sometimes a dragon does not feel the burn in its own fire.”
His reply came in a whisper: “Like Lu-Ten?”
He half-expected her to storm away from him, offended that he dare speak ill of the husband she loved so. Yaretzi did not turn to look at him. Her voice was equally quiet. “Like Lu-Ten.”
Chapter 55: Apotheosis (Or the Wars Yet to Come)
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Katara
For three days Tsephel argued that she was lying about venturing through the God Tree. Jokingly, of course, but every time Katara thought of Hahn, the warrior of the Northern Water Tribe, who had sacrificed his life to buy her time to ascend the peak to the Seat of the Demiurge. When she had looked back, she had seen him brandishing the spear of Avatar Kuruk with his dog at his side as they faced the gatekeeping god, and she had known that they would be cocooned in the ice together. She vowed that when it was all over, when all the battles had been fought and the dust settled, she would seek out his family in the North Pole. He was a third son who had helped buy humanity time. His name deserved to be remembered and she would ensure that it would be.
Lusa grumbled happily as Katara tossed a slab of meat in front of her. Tsephel looked positively aghast, her lips turned down in a severe frown as the leopard caribou devoured the mole-cow’s haunches.
“Pick your jaw up, airhead. She’s a carnivore.” Rojhan drawled, throwing down the sleeping sack that he had been folding. “She needs meat like that overgrown moose of yours needs grass.” Since they had left Banka-Kadi, he did not look like the rigid soldier who had joined them. He wore the same dark clothing as the rest of them, his pale skin tanned by the sun. He was notably more relaxed, conversing freely with Jet about whatever it was that young men talked about. (Katara didn’t want to know.) “How long has it been and you get more and more insufferable?”
Tsephel bared her teeth. “Well if you don’t wanna deal with me, then you can leave! You yellow eyed menace, I only tolerate you because Jet and Katara do.”
Katara gasped as the young man crossed the distance between himself and the airbender before Tsephel could move. Rojhan captured her wrists above her head, dipping his head so dangerously close to Tsephel’s that Katara thought he might kiss her.
He wants to , she thought.
Tsephel made no move to dislodge herself despite her verbal protests. Rojhan chuckled. “You certainly seem to enjoy not having to use matches.”
This is like a page from a sappy romance story. Katara coughed loudly and Tsephel shoved the taller man away from her, grinding her teeth to hide her smile. Tsephel pranced in one direction and then the other. “We’ve had to put up with you for weeks!” She spun around to face Jet. “How long has it been, Wonder Boy?”
Jet raised his head, bewildered. “I didn’t know I was supposed to be keeping track.”
Katara sighed. The days had begun to blur as they left the swamps and winding rivers of Banka-Kadi. It had occurred to her that for almost two years she had known nothing but the veins of the river kingdom. She had spent a large portion of that time with Jun, meandering about hunting vagabonds, and another few months with the Air Nomads. And now, here she was, in the lands between Banka-Kadi and the outermost edges of Taku. Borders were more fluid, and if it were not for the signs on the roads then she never would have guessed.
They traveled along the highway that connected the world: the Vein of Commerce. They moved with purpose. The boys put their skills to use and earned most of their coin, allowing them to maintain some semblance of comfort even when they camped in the trees. Katara could tolerate sleeping on stone and grass after weeks of meandering through the swamp. Katara had committed herself to learning and memorizing the layout of the world as they traveled steadily west, so much so that she could recite the information in her dreams.
Garsai to the far west, bordered by Arakem and Laogai to the north. Laogai pressed against Gaoling to the south and the desert Tribes of Si-Wong to the northeast. Gaoling touched both Omashu to the direct east and Taku to the south. Taku neighbored Banka-Kadi and the vast unclaimed lands.
To think that her brother had been so close, yet so far away at the same time. Sokka would rub it in her face the next time they saw each other, yet another way for him to be as insufferable and big-headed as possible.
Yeah, well, I transcended the very fabric of space and time! Take that!
Perhaps it was for the best. Their father had always meant for them to rule together. Sokka would use his ‘worldly’ experience and Katara would use her bending the way they always had. Sokka was the inventor. She brought his projects to life.
News about her brother was achingly sparse. She knew that he was marching west, just as she was, to the Estival Peninsula. Just as Prince Lu-Ten was. Why does it seem like all of our fates are converging in the same place? Their destination had grown ever clearer in her visions, which came with unprecedented frequency. It seemed that every time she slept, her dreams were bombarded with memories of lives that were not hers.
But they had been.
Many times she returned to the life of Nuka, to his IcePoint, and watched as he grew weary from travel. His dogs, Kissimi and Koda, were always faithfully at his heels. Every year he returned to IcePoint and every year Tuluqa and Eskaa grew larger and older still.
Katara had screamed, locked in the dream, as Nuka watched his beloved younger siblings vying for the title of Chieftain in a brutal civil war that would become known as one of the bloodiest conflicts in the history of the Southern Water Tribe. The clans of the South became divided as Tuluqa tried to stake her son’s claim over that of Eskaa’s bastard son. The twins killed each other and Nuka was powerless to watch, wrapped up in the affairs of the world that he served. Katara could not allow her relationship with her brother to sour and fail. Not if she was to avoid the fates of Tuluqa and Eskaa. The Southern Water Tribe wouldn’t be able to bear it. She couldn’t bear it.
“I wasn’t keeping track either.” Tsephel grunted as she yanked on the rope that kept Dache’s saddle in place. “What I do know, however, is that the war will probably be over by the time we get there. Like I said, the dragon guy would wipe the floor with the Fire Nation if he decided to deploy his dragons. Hey, menace, what’s the likelihood of killing a dragon?”
Rojhan pulled a face. “Slim to none. I doubt a firebender would even be able to get close enough to one to attack. You know what he did to the outpost.” A shadow fell over his face before he tightened his jaw.
Traveling along the Vein of Commerce allowed them to learn more of the world’s affairs. Yue remained married to the enemy. It had turned out that the Phoenix King’s nephew wasn’t dead after all, and had spent months building an army in Arakem. He had not just survived, but returned with two dragons. He had unleashed one of them on a Fire Nation military outpost, slaughtering every soul on the grounds and scorching the earth beyond repair. Katara swallowed. As the peacekeeper, could she really allow a man who had ruthlessly killed men to sit the throne of one of the most powerful nations on earth? What would stop him from coveting the resources of other countries, just as his predecessors had? “I hope it won’t come to anything like that.”
Her friends muttered their agreement. Katara surveyed them all. The spirit-god Father Vaatjin’s words echoed in her mind. ‘Cherish them in the wars yet to come.’
Tsephel caught her gaze and smiled thinly, a wordless promise that she would uphold the oath she had sworn.
Once the animals had been fed and watered, Katara swung up into Lusa’s saddle. Jet took his place behind her while Rojhan joined Tsephel atop Dache. Jet leaned forward until his chin rested on Katara’s shoulder. “Who do you think is going to give in first?”
The Avatar pursed her lips. “Rojhan. Boys always crack first.”
She could feel his smile widen and his hands pinched her ribs. “Is that right?” He pressed a teasing kiss to the base of her neck, moving her hair aside.
Katara felt her cheeks burn. “Absolutely. If I recall correctly, you were trying to take my shirt off before the sun even went down.” Spirits, that felt so long ago.
Jet laughed. Even though they spent many nights curled around each other, Jet had never touched her the way he had when she had first been blown to Banka-Kadi. (Though parts of her longed that he would.) Watching him when he worked through circuits with Tsephel or Rojhan sent an indescribable yet exhilarating tingle down her spine.
It’s called ‘attraction’, Katara. She could almost hear Sokka’s aggravating sneer.
It had taken her months to realize and accept that, in hindsight, perhaps she had felt the same around Jun in a way. Just a little. Tsephel had cackled when she confessed. ‘Big whoop. Do you really think that after tens of thousands of years, the Avatar Spirit is supposed to remember if it likes girls or boys in this incarnation? After a couple lifetimes, the Avatar Spirits just kinda…forgets.’
Katara had scoffed, but she had contemplated it all the same. Every life, always different, but always the same.
Two days later they reached the city of Kota-Ipu, a mid-sized city along the Vein of Commerce that served as a hub for river and road traffic heading deeper into Taku. Dache settled outside of the city’s gates, close enough to hear Tsephel’s whistle, but free to roam and graze as she pleased. Lusa plodded behind Katara, her mouth open as if she was tasting the air. Cities and the loud noises that accompanied them no longer scared the feline.
“Check it out!” Katara pointed to a crowd of people hovering beside a table underneath a tent. Thrusting the reins to Rojhan’s hands, she darted away from the main street, her senses flooded with the scent of fried foods and the joyous squeals of children at play. Her elbow brushed against a stranger’s as she blazed through the crowd. She hadn’t seen a proper festive day since her misadventurous days with Jun. Katara craned her head, catching sight of two men seated across the table from each other, grasping each other’s wrists in a challenge of arm wrestling.
“Fifty silver says Chan takes it,” a man close by muttered. He jerked his chin in the direction of the hulking man on the left.
“No way,” Jet argued, “that other guy might be skinny, but he’s done this before. He’s not even using his full strength yet.” He nudged Katara before raising his voice. “Seventy-five!”
Katara spun around, her mouth agape. “Have you lost your mind?!”
Jet smirked. “Just watch.” He winked at Tsephel.
Katara narrowed her eyes as her friend moved just a touch closer to the competitors. She waggled her fingers just enough to stir a breeze, as if she was testing the waters. As the slender competitor pushed harder, Tsephel snapped her hand forward and the air followed. With the airbender’s covert assistance, Chan’s opponent slammed the larger man’s wrist down onto the table.
The onlookers erupted into boisterous applause. The man to Katara’s left scratched his head as he shoved a coin purse into Jet’s hand. Tsephel skipped back over to them with a broad grin. “You bet on the right ostrich-horse, Wonder Boy.”
Jet rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “Well, who’s down for a nice dinner after we get to an inn? I’m sure we can splurge with this on a nice dine-in.”
Rojhan came forward with Lusa. The four of them continued through the crowd, in awe of the grandiose displays of paper Banka-Kadian river dragons and Takuuan mountain dancers, as well as aerial acrobats that had strung silk ropes between the buildings, gliding through the air with billowing clothes. Tsephel watched in a mixture of amazement and disdain. “I can do it better,” she said flippantly, “pssh, even the babies back at the temple can do it better.”
They found a reasonably priced yet decent lodging on the far edge of the city, away from the hustle and bustle of the festive district. They set down their belongings before crossing the street to a restaurant that was relatively busy. The delightful smell of food drew them like moths to a flame. The quartet chose a booth that allowed them to sit together. Before Jet could take a seat beside Katara, Tsephel darted to take his place glaring at Rojhan all the while.
A Takuuan waitress set down the menus. She wore the darker, drier tones of Taku, and upon her neck she wore a pendant of the Pangolemur.
“What’s good Takuuan food, Tsephel?” Jet asked as he leafed through the menu.
The Air Nomad shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
Rojhan curled his lip. “I thought you’ve traveled across the world before on your flying moose.”
For once, perhaps to have some semblance of etiquette in a foreign restaurant, Tsephel did not fall to the bait. “Well, yeah. But I wasn’t exactly flying all lackadaisy. Besides, I was a girl traveling alone . We only stopped when absolutely necessary. A random city in Taku wasn’t exactly on our itinerary “ She looked back up at the waitress. “Your best vegetarian dish for me, please.”
As the waitress sashayed away, Katara peered out the window at the world outside. The kingdoms were so different, she realized, and to think that the Phoenix King sought to destroy the cultural diversity that made the world so amazing… Something as simple as food told much of the culture and history of a region.
The Banka-Kadians favored pescatarian cuisine due to the abundance of freshwater fish, while it seemed that Takuuans leaned towards poultry based foods with creamy sauces with rice and lentils. The Air Nomads were strictly vegetarian, some even refusing to eat honey or eggs.
The four of them ate their dishes with gusto. Takuuan food was not as heavily spiced as Arakemeti cuisine, and favored cardamom and tamarind. As the waitress returned, she beamed at them, pointing at two men at the front of the restaurant. They were clothed in dark leather armor and sage green robes. “Consider your meal covered by those two. They’ve paid the tabs for the whole restaurant!”
Katara lifted her head to see better. They had the posture of upper class warriors, like those of the Tribe who served as the clan leaders. Even though she could not make out what they were saying, their exaggerated and triumphant gestures were indication enough that they had accomplished something remarkable. She had not seen them enter. The princess turned back to the waitress. “To what do we toast?”
“They’re a part of the Most Excellent One’s household guard. Apparently a few weeks ago, the Most Excellent One hosted the Water Tribe boy and his army. And the word is that the Fire Nation paid Queen Tsolah to ahh…handle things for them.”
The blood rushed in Katara’s ears.
Tsephel had reached over to grasp her trembling hand under the table.
The young server hummed as she collected the plates, so casual and without malice that her next words almost went over Katara’s head. “The Elite Ones like those two are celebrating it as a victory. Once the Tribesmen were out of the borders, the Most Excellent One sent a tactical force after them. Somehow, don’t ask me, but they blew a hole through the chief.”
There are times when reality can splinter and come apart at the seams, when what is known and what is unknown converge and diverge and leave fractured pieces in their wake. The air of the restaurant grew impossibly hot and dense, stealing the breaths of the patrons, whose terrified eyes turned in the direction of their table.
An incessant keening wail that morphed into a grief-stricken howl seemed to come from every corner of the room, filling the air and piercing the ears of the onlookers. The entourage scrambled to their feet and shoved the waitress aside, who had begun to cover her ears. “ Shit , get her out of here!” Rojhan shoved them towards the door. Katara was dimly aware that Jet had thrown her over his shoulder and they were running away from the restaurant.
She was screaming. The howl was coming from her.
Katara could feel herself falling in and out of the Avatar State, as if her spirit was trying to protect itself from a perceived threat. There was no enemy close by. Only the knowledge that tightened its fingers around her heart and wrung her intestines like a damp rag.
“What do we do? What do we do?!” Jet was still carrying her as they barreled up the stairs to their rooms in the inn.
Rojhan slammed the door behind them as Jet deposited Katara onto one of the beds. The world was flashing white and Katara felt herself falling up . The edges of reality began to come undone, the threads of what was the known world fraying and ripping until Katara felt her spirit detach from her body and suddenly she was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
A circle of pure light hovered before her. She could sense someone else on the other side of the circle, their hand outstretched as if they were calling out to her. Katara looked over her shoulder. Her body was upright, held in place by her panicking friends whose mouths worked in unheard conversations. She moved languidly as if she was underwater. Undiluted energy electrified the hairs on her arms.
‘ You shall see even when your eyes are closed.’
Katara squinted as the figure on the other side of the astral door moved away.
‘I have given you a gift that your spirit will know how to use.’
The light faded.
Tsephel’s fingernails dug into her skin as she forced the waterbender’s eyes open. “Katara. Katara, look at me. Look at me .”
Chest heaving, Katara struggled to ground herself in the reality in front of her. The faces of her friends were blurred as if she was looking at them through a haze. Tsephel frowned before, inhaling deeply to manipulate the air between them as she pressed their foreheads. Katara felt herself come back down, still unable to cease the trembling that wracked her frame. “Sokka, Sokka, Sokka…he’s, Sokka is Sokka is-”
Tsephel pulled away. She was on her knees. She looked up apprehensively at the young men. Katara had never seen the airbender so uneasy. “You didn’t hear the rest before you…got distracted, I guess, but your brother is alive. He’s somewhere in the unclaimed lands between here and the Estival Peninsula recovering. He lost a limb. I’m not sure which one exactly, but definitely not his head.”
Her sobs had begun to quiet. Katara felt the bed shift as Jet took a seat behind her and pulled her against his chest. Her grief began to give way to a darker, angrier emotion that blackened the room. The anger and heartbreak of every reincarnation of the Avatar that had lost a loved one, a parent, a child, a sibling to the petty squabbles of mankind. No wonder the spirit-gods wanted to destroy them. Why would they not? Katara unclenched her fists from where they had balled into the knees of her pants.
“We’re going to the capital.”
Rojhan jerked his head up. “Katara, if you plan on doing what I think you are…vengeance is not the way. Not like this. Your loyalties don’t lie with just the Southern Water Tribe anymore.”
I belong to the world.
Katara squared her jaw and bit back the sour response that had nearly slipped from her lips. “She can’t just attack another world leader with impunity. The Phoenix King already got away with that when he killed my father. I can’t just sit back and let it happen all over again! If it wasn’t Sokka, then it would have been someone else!” Her brother…perhaps not dead, but terribly wounded. Ambushed. “If I’m going to be the peacekeeper, then this is where I start.”
Brown, gray, and yellow eyes stared at her.
Tsephel sighed. “Well alright then.”
Word would spread quickly that the Avatar, the sister of the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, was traveling through Taku. They could only hope that they could move faster.
And then she would find her brother.
——-
Try though she might, Katara could not return to that state of being that was not quite the Avatar State. She could only liken it to having a foot in both realms, or perhaps it was better to say that she had been between the mortal world and spirit realm. It had something to do with what the gods had given her at the Seat of the Demiurge, but the rest was lost to her.
“It doesn’t suit you to brood.” Rojhan’s words broke her from her thoughts. He sat across from her in Dache’s saddle, loosely clutching the reins as the bison soared over the fields of Taku. The others were sound asleep, even Lusa who dangled from the harness strapped to Dache’s stomach.
Katara moved her wind-mussed hair out of her face. “Your brother wasn’t horribly disfigured,” she replied sharply.
Rojhan stiffened. Anger radiated from his tense shoulders. He turned his head so that Katara could not see his face. His voice was like gravel. “No, I suppose not. He only got burned by a dragon instead.”
Katara’s breath hitched. “Rojhan…”
“Our parents encouraged all three of us to join the army. Three strapping sons, all firebenders. Natsu was the youngest. He was so excited to be deployed for the first time in Arakem. Before I…defected, he had written to me and told me about everything he had seen so far. ‘The world is so big, Ro, and I am so small.’ That was what his last letter said.” Rojhan did not turn around, though Katara could hear him swallowing back a choked breath. “Don’t waste your tears on me or my brother. As a soldier, you expect to die and pray everyday that it won’t be today.” The young man laughed bitterly. “That’s why I am with you. To make sure that no more brothers are lost. That no more parents lose their sons. If that means we have to face the Queen of Taku, then that’s what we’ll do.”
She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder but Rojhan tilted out of reach. Katara let her hand slide into her lap. “I just want this to end.”
The firebender threw a glance back at her, his yellow eyes glistening before he blinked and his tears went unshed. “It will,” he said. “All things end.”
One thing ends and another begins.
Foreign horizons gave way to foreign lands. The nation of Taku favored jagged spires and orogenic earthbending that seemed to flow with the natural rise and fall of the earth rather than bend it to their will. Entire cities seemed haphazardly thrown together, zigging in one direction and zagging in the other just as the earth underfoot did. They sparkled in the night, thousands of lanterns lighting the streets of cities filled with life.
It was a new moon, allowing the constellations and far flung stars of worlds so different from their own to shine. The sky was cloudless. She had hoped that such a tranquil scene would allow her to fall back into that state of being, but it eluded her. Katara laid flat on her back. The stars were not those of her homeland, nor those of Banka-Kadi or the Eastern Air Temple. The Warrior and the Dancing Siren did not dwell in these parts of the world. Amarok the god did not prowl amongst these constellations in search of a thrilling hunt, nor did the spirit-goddess Kissami look over the young women who bled for the first time. Not here.
If she squinted, she could just make out the gleaming white path of the galaxy hovering above them all. It was clearest in the Far North where the Northern Lights never slept and the Seat of the Demiurge ruled over all. Her thoughts traveled to the gray land that Hahn had called the Land of the Ice that Never Melts. She roused Jet to take his turn guiding Dache and waited until Rojhan was settled with his back turned away from them. Their conversation would remain between just the two of them. Katara rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, allowing a dreamless sleep to take her at last.
When she awoke, it was to the sound of Tsephel unhitching Lusa and allowing Dache to land. They were still traveling the Vein of Commerce, growing ever closer to Tsolah’s city. Katara could only imagine what the Queen was like, though it seemed that the common people loved her. Why did it seem like the monsters had the most loyal subjects?
Well, that wasn’t true.
Her Tribe loved the Polar Bear Dogs, and had followed them for generations through war and famine, just as they followed them in times of prosperity. She knew that they would welcome her with open arms whenever she returned home. She was the princess of the Southern Water Tribe, one of the last of the Polar Bear Dogs…
Only she and her brother remained.
One day the halls of IcePoint would be filled with the light and laughter of her childhood. The warriors, who would be Sokka’s bloodsworn, would laugh at the antics of the new generation of Polar Bear Dog pups that pulled pranks on the adults. The pups would be her nieces and nephews, and perhaps even children of her own. IcePoint would be overflowing with love once again. The scars of the past would heal.
The road that led to the capital ran parallel to the rail lines that connected the larger Earth Kingdoms. As a little girl, Katara had sat on the floor at her father’s feet as he signed deals and treaties that would ensure that the South would be rich for generations to come. She had never paid it much attention but her nation played an integral part in the development of the railway. Plumes of black smoke rose like dark clouds.
Katara swallowed thickly. This was the last place her brother had been before he was hurt. In a matter of time she would face the perpetrator.
Lusa grumbled low in her throat, her ears rotating in the direction of one of the wagons behind them that was drawn by two ostrich-horses. Katara held her hand against her broad flank and furrowed her brow. She noted that Jet had done the same, slowing his steps and letting his fingers ghost over his hooked swords.
Jun had taught her many things.
One: A smart criminal is someone who does not like to be seen. They will never draw attention to themselves. They dressed plainly and assumed personas of regular people.
Two: By not trying to draw attention to themselves, they often stabbed themselves in the foot. People were likely to notice someone acting too aloof.
Three: Most of them panic after being spotted. After they were discovered, they either did one or two things.
They fought. Or they fled.
The driver of the wagon caught her gaze and quickly averted his eyes. Her attention flickered over to the second individual easing himself out of the back of the vehicle, half of his body hanging over the edge as he lowered himself down. Katara popped the cork of her canteen. The man held a lasso.
Lusa roared just as a third unseen man tossed his rope over her head, catching her by the antlers. With seemingly superhuman strength he dragged her down. The leopard caribou screeched, lashing out with her deadly paws.
Jet flew forward, his swords glinting in the light as he lunged at one of their assailants. Rojhan was on his heels, spinning into a graceful firebending form that sent a wave of fire in the direction of their attackers.
Tsephel sighed as she sprang, sending a blast of air into the man that had captured Lusa. “Oh well isn’t this just lovely. Can’t even let our feet get used to solid ground before dealing with these shenanigans.” The man flew backwards as the rope around Lusa’s antlers severed and she charged in his direction.
Katara brought her arms up to form an ice shield as the shortest of the men came at her with daggers. His countenance was marred by what she could only describe as unmitigated hatred. She ducked and dodged his assault, not quite able to slip in a strike of her own. He was quick on his feet, even quicker than Jet who had learned to move swiftly and stealthily. Katara yelped as the tip of his blade came dangerously close to her nose. “Don’t think we didn’t recognize you, Avatar.” The man snarled. The tip of his blade pierced her shield, causing a long crack to form down the center. “There’s a bounty for your head!”
She brought her hand up, seizing his wrist in an encasing of ice. It would be so easy to break it . That was Kyoshi speaking, who had never hesitated to do what was necessary. But what would it solve? That was Aang. Katara thrusted her palm out and sent the man careening into the dirt. His life was not worth sullying her hands.
A gush of wind swept the assailant engaged with Tsephel up and over, causing him to crash into the man that Katara had dispatched. They were joined by the third landing heavily some twenty feet away with a chilling thud.
“Katara, look out!” Jet’s cry came just as Katara turned to stare down at the approaching shaft of a crossbow quarrel.
There was no time to bend the water into a shield. Her mind screamed. Katara flung her arm out and the world rippled .
Not the rush of air or cascade of water passing through space. It was a movement that Katara could only explain as cosmic , that for a brief moment the fabric of reality buckled and shimmered, revealing a fragile lattice of pearls of light that connected each thread of the universe. The crossbow bolt was swathed in the shimmering light, as well as the man holding the weapon.
And then he disappeared.
Katara let her hands fall.
Her friends had turned to stone. Their eyes roved over her incredulously, lingering on her hands with awe and fear. A dull ache formed in the back of her head, growing into the constant beating of a war drum until her eyes began to burn. Her body hummed , her blood seeming to vibrate within her veins.
The gods were cautious with their gifts to the Avatar, bestowing upon them a power that they gave very rarely. Mortal men called it energybending, to be able to grasp and pull and release the fabric of reality until it bent to their will. The gods called it transilience . Her spirit knew these things. The Avatar Spirit knew these things.
“What did you just do?!”
“Since when could you do that?!”
Tsephel and Jet spoke at the same time, their voices blending in with the war drums in Katara’s mind. Katara could sense Jet drawing closer. Her mind’s eye could see him even when her back was turned. Katara slumped. “I don’t know.” Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. Black rings formed around her vision. “Since the god touched my forehead I guess,” she fell back against Jet’s chest, keenly aware of his strong hands cradling her armpits as she slid to the ground. “Sokka would- Sokka would lose his mind if he-”
Jet set her down gingerly and the last thing she saw was the world spinning overhead, blue and white, and the twinkle of constellations.
When she came to, she first saw the geometric tiling of the ceiling and carved obelisks in the shape of a lion-badger and pangolemur. The floor underneath her was cold against her skin. She could hear the gentle drip of water into a pool and the scent of incense wafted throughout the room. Katara struggled to sit upright. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting of the room.
“If you keep fainting like this, I’m going to start needing compensation for preventing you from getting a concussion. If you smash your head on the ground and get memory loss then we’re all screwed.” Tsephel moved into view, and although her tone was harsh, she extended her hand to support Katara as she raised herself from the ground. “I’m already supposed to teach you airbending, don’t make me have to be a nanny, too.”
Katara’s head pounded. “Where am I? And what happened?”
Her friend’s smile fell. “We evaded those bounty hunters and you…” Tsephel hesitated, as if the right words would not come. “You did something that I don’t even know how to describe . You really don’t remember? Somehow you folded reality, I guess? I blinked and the guy was gone.” The Air Nomad grimaced, looking at Katara as if she had just met her for the first time, as if she was someone to be wary of. Not quite as if she was a monster, but close enough that Tsephel was ready to bolt at the first growl. “But you were bending .”
“Energybending,” the response came flowing like water from her lips. “It’s called energybending.” Katara ran her fingers through her hair before Tsephel could respond. “Where are we? Where is Jet and Rojhan? And Lusa?!”
“Energy- just forget it, I’m not going to fry my brain trying to understand right now.” Tsephel shook her head vigorously. “We’re just outside of the capital of Taku, in the temple of Avatars Zensun and Meisun.” She held onto Katara’s elbow to hold her steady. “Wonder Boy and that yellow eyed thing are fine. Lusa’s fine.” She ducked her head almost sheepishly. “This was the only place that was close enough where I knew you’d be safe.”
Katara turned at the sound of a newcomer. At the entrance of the hexagonal chamber was a man draped in dark green. His expression was one of awe and apprehension. “Young Avatar.” He dropped into a kowtow at her feet. “I am honored to see you in the flesh. I am Shrine Keeper Oshu. Nun Tsephel brought you here to ensure your safety.”
Nun Tsephel? Katara quirked a brow in her friend’s direction. Tsephel lifted the Air Nomad medallion that hung from her neck. She was a master airbender after all, and as such she was a woman dedicated to the Nomadic faith. The Air Nomads knew more about the world than anyone else, Katara thought. Perhaps it was true: the airbenders endured the Fire Nation’s abuse because they knew that all things came to an end.
Shrine Keeper Oshu climbed to his feet. “Nun Tsephel was adamant on staying by your side. Your male companions are currently resting. If you would?”
The two young women trailed him out of the chamber. It was not dissimilar to the temple of the Avatar at the Eastern Air Temple, with its long corridors and longer shadows from the carved obelisks. Sconces lit their path over the black granite floor. The Shrine Keeper walked quickly, leaving little time for Katara to take in her surroundings, and tossed glances back over his shoulder at them. Tsephel’s countenance was carefully placid. The corridor smelled of frankincense. Katara’s eyes roved over her surroundings. From somewhere deeper within the building she could hear the pattering feet of children.
The corridor forked in three directions. Two of them splintered into smaller hallways that veered into the belly of the temple. A sky well threw sunlight into the corridor. The ceiling above was crystalline glass, revealing that the third hall led to what appeared to be a councilman chamber. The massive door was thrown open. Two gargantuan effigies filled the room. One was a woman, the artist had carved her sharp cheekbones and narrowed eyes with such detail that Katara felt as though the stone was alive. Meisun, her mind whispered. To the left was Zensun, her predecessor, the founder of Taku. “Why’d you bring us here?”
Oshu turned to face them and gestured to the statues. “As a sign of our neutrality in the wars being waged. We of the Shrine of Meisun are devoted to the cause of peace, to the Avatar.” He bowed and nodded at Tsephel. “We are partners in peace just as the airbending monks and nuns.”
Katara’s mind reeled. Leave it to Tsephel to pull her strings. (Strings that Katara didn’t know she had.) Cherish them in the wars yet to come.
“I brought you here, young Avatar, because the statues of Meisun and Zensun came alive .” Oshu pointed at the cold stone faces. “And all of those attuned to the realm felt the world shift.” He exchanged a glance with Tsephel. “Perhaps here you will find the answers that you need.”
Her eyes drifted up to the grim faces of Meisun and Zensun, imagining that they were looking back at her. Katara nodded slowly. Tsephel caught her eye and stepped back. Katara could hear the Shrine Keeper and the Nomad exiting the room, leaving her alone with her predecessors and racing thoughts.
At the base of Meisun’s statue was an altar. The princess felt her thoughts falling away, leaving her an empty shell. Her breathing slowed as she approached the altar. The edges of her vision frayed and sparkled as she curled into the seated lotus position and willed her mind to unfurl like a butterfly’s wings. Her image of herself became diaphanous as she crossed over the boundary of wakefulness and dreaming, immediately greeted by a semi-circle of solemn-faced ancestors. Six in total. Tsewang, Chipuhua, Meisun, Abedhi, Desaroq and Kenji. Katara averted her eyes. They were ancient Avatars, hundreds upon thousands of years older than the names she was more familiar with. They watched her warmly, the most recent one of their number, the child who would carry the burden.
“Little one,” Abedhi was the first to speak. The Arakemeti man reached out to lay his large hand on the top of her head. “You’ve come so far.”
Tsewang stood with her hands tucked in her billowing yellow sleeves, flanked by Chipuhua on her left and Meisun on her right. “You carry so much on your shoulders, little one. The ones who came before left a tremendous burden for you to bear.”
Aang.
Roku.
Katara ground her teeth. If they had been more headstrong, more proactive, more aggressive then she would not have inherited a war on two fronts. She would have been able to be normal . She was grateful that they had not chosen to manifest themselves. Katara raised her head. “Tell me about this power that the spirit-gods gave me.”
Chipuhua was small and thin, and her thick black hair cascaded to her waist. The corners of her eyes were lined with crows feet. Red dragon tattoos curled around her brow. “Transilience. We also received the gift during our lifetimes. We reincarnated in the most tumultuous times just as you have. During my lifetime, I saw the war lords of the Fire Nation archipelago cripple each other in a war that lasted eighty years. My people, the indigenous firebenders, were driven from their original homeland. My culture and family were nearly annihilated.”
“Until the gods granted us all with the power to bend reality and move through its cracks and crevices like water. With this gift, young one, you can alter the world. You can pinch time and space to cross great distances just as you are able to traverse the spirit realm. You can open and close doors yet unseen.” Meisun’s voice was entrancing. “You can manipulate the energy within living things.”
“But it comes with a price,” Desaroq broke in. He was a Water Tribesman, like her, and upon his head he wore a hood made from the skin of a polar leopard-bear. “Use it wisely, child or you will destroy yourself. It takes a piece of you every time you use it.” He reminded Katara of her father. They had the same intense stare and strong jaw, and the way he held his shoulders suggested he had been a warrior during his lifetime.
Her past lives fell silent. Katara considered their words. Energybending had the potential to turn the tides in her favor in the blink of an eye…at the expense of her life. Was she really willing to sacrifice herself if it meant she could bring peace? If she could bring Yue home? If she could finally see Sokka again?
Abedi eyed her sympathetically. “It is not an easy burden to bear.”
“Go face Tsolah,” Kenji said, “but she is not your enemy. She was misguided like so many before her. Find it in your heart to forgive.”
Katara clenched her fists. I don’t think I can do that. She had winter in her bones. The ice did not forget. The cold winds of winter spared no one. They were just outside of the capital city. Soon she would face the Most Excellent One who had ordered the attack on her brother. She could not pass her judgment without looking the woman in the eye. Katara exhaled.
And just as quickly as they had appeared, her predecessors vanished, leaving her kneeling alone at the altar of Meisun. Katara pressed her forehead against the cold marble. There was a tightness in her chest that could not be alleviated. She could hear Tsephel kneeling beside her, resting her hand on Katara’s back and running smooth circles. When she raised her head, the gray eyed airbender had a sad smile.
“Sometimes you must be the wind. Other times the leaf.” Tsephel whispered the words. “You can either be the force of the change, or the ones affected by it. Which one are you?”
Katara grasped her friend’s hand, leaning into the embrace that Tsephel offered. “The wind,” she responded, “I have to be the wind.”
——-
The capital of Taku, eponymously named, was half subterranean. It was swathed in the noise and smoke from the trains that passed through the city, the results of an international effort that had taken decades. The brightest minds from the Earth Kingdoms, the Southern Water Tribe, and the Fire Nation had managed to come together to create the rail system that spread out like a spider’s web. Katara was in awe of the locomotives and the sheer amount of goods (and people) that they could carry.
Sokka is going to build one back home even if it takes him twenty years.
Katara swallowed back the knot that had begun to form in her throat.
‘ This one,’ one of the elders had once said, ‘ has the fury of the South. Sokka carves like a glacier, but this one rages like a cascade. Woe to the man who makes her angry.’
‘Like her mother.’ Her father had responded, cradling her in his arms, ‘ if only she could see her now.’
News of the Avatar had preceded them after their brief stay at the Temple of Meisun and Zensun, and now it seemed that the whole city had paused to watch the Avatar and her entourage approach the palace of the Most Excellent One. Children gawped from behind their mothers’ skirts, eyes bulging from their small heads, and grown men stumbled over themselves. To hear that the Avatar was a young girl was one thing, to see her in the flesh-
What did they see when they looked at her? Did they see a young Water Tribeswoman with weary angry eyes or did they see the Avatar saddled with the weight of saving them all from themselves?
Katara was grateful that she was not alone. Her friends stood on either side of her. They were all taller than her, all masters of their craft, each with a unique yet undying devotion to her.
The Elite Ones, the household guard of the Most Excellent One, flanked her and her friends. The curved walls of the palace soared overhead, converging together in a glass ceiling that cast beams of crystal-filtered light down below. Katara knew very little about Taku aside from her geography lessons as a child. They were culturally a bit more reclusive than Banka-Kadi and Omashu. From what she could see, the Elite Ones seemed to be the equivalent of the Tribe’s warriors.
The halls of the Most Excellent One’s palace were quiet and somber and the queen’s audience chamber was cavernous save for the carved throne upon which the Most Excellent One sat. She was of slight frame, barely older than Rojhan, but her heterochromatic eyes were hard and scrutinous. She remained silent as a servant fetched the customary cup of tea and sliced fruit of guest’s rights, offering a portion to each of the young travelers.
Katara resisted the urge to bare her teeth. The woman had been savvy enough to not violate the sacred laws of hospitality that were universal to all nations. She had waited until Sokka was outside of her city before attacking him. Jet pressed a hand to the small of her back. Katara bowed once they had all taken a bite and sip of the drink. “Thank you for allowing us into your home.”
The Most Excellent One nodded. “Taku takes honor in our hospitality. Mohon, Yingte, close the doors.” She jerked her head at the earthbenders near the entrance. “Especially when my guest is the Avatar. The last Avatar to pass through our country was Avatar Roku.”
The princess nodded. Aang had been elusive, a borderline ascetic, and had run from his duty as the Avatar for decades before passing away in the North Pole. He was always apologetic in her dreams. “You have hosted a number of great figures in the last few months.”
Tsolah’s lips twitched downward. “Including your brother.”
Katara took a step forward as red crept into the corners of her vision. “My brother, whom you tried to have killed.” The words came out in a fierce growl. “And you don’t regret it.”
As Katara moved forward, Tsolah stepped back. “I was acting in the best interests of my nation. Surely you can’t find fault in that.”
“You tried to have my brother and his people killed,” Katara spat and jerked away when Jet tried to grab her elbow. “And as the Avatar, I am within my right to administer justice.” She glowered at the Takuuan queen. “The Fire Nation conspired with you to attack my brother.” The rage was threatening to surface. “ Who within the Fire Nation paid you?”
Tsolah of the Pangolemurs faltered.
Katara took another menacing step in her direction. The Most Excellent One looked frantically at her Elite Ones and then Katara’s friends.
At last the earthbender conceded. She buckled under the weight of the Avatar’s glare. “It was the Phoenix Queen! She’s the one who paid me to get rid of your brother. But it doesn’t matter because she’s dead! She’s dead! The Phoenix King killed her!” She had staggered backwards, perhaps afraid that the Avatar would pass her sentence where she stood.
The room fell into a stunned silence. “I beg your pardon?” Katara threw a bewildered glance at the others.
Tsolah breathed a sigh of relief. “He killed her. And probably the Crown Prince, too.The Crown Prince was a bastard. Ozai burned him and then had the queen killed for adultery!” The words poured effusively. “Before she died, she promised she would protect me!” Of course. The Phoenix King and his family were invincible. Why should she have thought otherwise? She flung herself at Katara’s feet. “Please, Avatar, have mercy. I was acting in the best interests of my people!”
Your people? Or yourself? Katara scoffed. How many others had said those same words throughout the centuries? She could feel Tsephel and Jet’s presence just behind her. Jet was silently urging her to strike- she was the shield and spear of justice, it would be right, it would be fair. (In another world, in another dream Jet was an orphan boy fueled solely by vengeance. ‘Strike first and kill them all.’ In that world, she was not the Avatar.)
Be better than the rest. Aang’s voice whispered.
Some battles are not meant to be fought, Roku pleaded.
Katara spun away from the earthbender and swallowed thickly. She could not undo what had happened to Sokka. She’s not worth it anyway. Besides, from what Katara had gathered, her brother’s army had defended themselves well enough to flee to Tosoura.
Did she continue through the unclaimed lands to the Estival Peninsula to meet the dragonlord, the Phoenix King’s nephew, or did she seize the chance to finally reunite with Sokka?
She turned back to face Tsolah the Most Excellent One. The older woman kowtowed and her bottom lip trembled. “You water people sequester yourselves in your ice castles all timeless and self-assured. Taku isn’t as old, nor as strong. I took the throne when I was just a little girl, I need the titans of the world to recognize me.”
“And so you side with my father’s murderer? You side with someone who purportedly maimed his own child?” Yue was married to the prince…is she okay? Katara stiffened. If the man was so unhinged as to harm his own child, what would he do to her?
What had he done to her?
Tsolah, as if hearing her thoughts, averted her eyes and sank into her skin. “I don’t know how much is true, but it is said that the Phoenix King burned his heir and murdered the queen because they found out he had…” Tsolah grimaced. “He raped the ice princess.”
Katara inhaled sharply. “No…”
She could not fathom the thought of Yue suffering such a terrible violation. She could not stomach the thought of anyone having to endure such a thing, much less remain in the clutches of the enemy that had assaulted her. Rape was a crime punishable by castration in the Southern Water Tribe, often left to the victim’s family and clan elders to administer justice. When she was perhaps twelve with cold satisfaction she had watched one of her father’s bloodsworn take vengeance on a man who had harmed his niece. The Water Tribes would avenge Yue. She would avenge Yue.
The queen of Taku grew increasingly somber. She, too, had sinned, but Ozai’s transgression was egregious in both the eyes of men and gods. It was known.
Katara looked at her companions, each of their faces in varying degrees of disbelief and horror. “You’ll accommodate us,” she said to Tsolah, “and you’ll face the consequences when it’s all said and done. We’re going to the unclaimed lands.”
She was going to find Sokka.
Notes:
In my opinion , Katara as the Avatar would be in the same vein as Yangchen and Kyoshi: compassionate but with the capacity to be ruthless. S3 Katara was ready to walk Zuko like a dog when he first joined the group, so I pull a bit of her characterization from that.
Chapter 56: You Win or You Die
Notes:
In which bbygirl Yue has an identity crisis and Azula is the world’s most traumatizing cheerleader.
Chapter Text
Yue
Ursa had held the Phoenix King’s gaze when they hanged her. She had chosen the noose to die like Ikem rather than suffer the agony of poison or the kiss of a sword on her neck. She had shared one last wordless conversation with her husband the Phoenix King, and though Yue would never understand what was said, she knew that the Phoenix Queen had thrown into motion Ozai’s downfall.
His day of reckoning would come.
“ Do not worry, my morning star. Your best kept secrets will die with me.”
In the weeks after Ursa’s trial and subsequent execution, the entire caldera was ablaze with confusion. Their beloved Phoenix Queen was convicted of adultery. The Queen who fed the poor and cared for the less fortunate, the Queen who rode the stars to greatness, snuffed out by the very man she helped elevate. Tzumoro was running himself ragged as he tried to keep the loyalty of the public. Azula had all but disappeared after the chief Fire Sage suddenly and suspiciously chose to end his own life not long after Ursa was cold. Yue wandered the halls like a ghost, without a friend, but without an enemy either.
Except Ozai.
But the man had sequestered himself in the deepest bowels of the palace, unseen by all save the few closest to him.
Yue had never felt so alone.
Zuko remained missing.
Despite her pleading, Lord Tzumoro refused to divulge any information. ‘ He is safe’ was the only reassurance he gave, despite Azula’s vague threats that grew increasingly less vague and more heinous as time went on. He side eyed Yue curiously whenever they crossed paths, and deployed his own domestic spies in place of the ones that had been in Ursa’s pay. He had snatched up Maya and the others, scattering about the little sparrowkeets to glean information from every birdbath in the caldera.
Yue clung desperately to whatever semblance of normalcy that she had, though it continued to slip from her fingers every week that Zuko was gone.
The knock on the door of the room she had once shared with Zuko was assertive and brisk. Much like the knock of a night that was so long ago but like yesterday at the same time. Ice crept up her spine from where she sat and Tui leapt to her feet with a low growl. The white haired princess moved slowly to the door, opening it just enough to catch a glimpse of the person on the other side.
Lord Tzumoro looked just as uncomfortable as she felt. He had never visited her before, and never had he ventured close to her personal quarters. He took a step back as she opened the door fully. “Princess Yue,” he nodded curtly, “I loathe to disturb you.”
“Quite the opposite,” Yue slid into her most perfect guise, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The man swept his arm to usher her out of the room. “I was hoping you would take a stroll with me. With Azula so preoccupied, I have noticed that you seem quite lonely.” His yellow-gray eyes were pleading.
Yue narrowed her own. ‘You have no friend in me, child.’ What did the man want? “I would be honored to share your company,” she answered carefully as the man offered his arm. Yue slipped her hand around his forearm as he guided her down the hall. The inner sanctum was deathly quiet without the tinkle of highborn laughter and the bustle of servants arranging and rearranging to suit the Phoenix Queen’s ever changing whim. She had kept the palace alive. She had been its heart, as black and cold as it was. The walls had begun to close in upon themselves, constricting into a shell of uncertainty that would not come undone.
Tzumoro led her out of the main sanctum and through the residential quarters of the palace. He nodded to the maids and servants that they passed, and greeted the fellow administrators amicably when they raised their brows. Yue could feel the tension radiating from him and took note of the way his jaw clenched and released. He guided her into a courtyard that she had never seen before on the far southwestern side of the palatial complex. It was a lonely arcade where high grown ferns and leaning willows grew, and a single pergola wrapped in creeping blue and orange flowers stretched overhead. The sweet scent of a pear tree wafted towards her. On the other side a large pond sparkled and gurgled before her as Tzumoro gestured for her to sit in the grass.
The Phoenix King’s advisor wandered over to the pear tree, reaching up with ease to pluck two ripe fruits from its branches. Tzumoro passed one to her before taking a seat in the grass across from her in the lotus position. With a wave of his fingers he gestured for Yue to take a bite, disregarding his own in favor of steepling his hands under his chin. “The only prying eyes that venture here are those of my daughter,” he said with a thin laugh, “no one else deems it worth their time to visit this lackluster place. Unlike the other gardens, this one doesn’t have a name. For that reason I brought you here. So that we may speak candidly and without interruption.”
Yue had never noticed the gray at his temples and the corners of his beard, nor the streaks in his dark hair. It was an unsettling dichotomy to see him age before her eyes while Ozai and Ursa had maintained their almost vampiric youth. The sigh he let out was breathless and fatigued. “It’s all falling apart. It’s all falling apart.”
And why are you telling me this? When you are planning to let Ozai kill me? Why should I matter when you let him kill his wife? When you let him burn his son?
As if hearing her thoughts, Tzumoro lifted his head. “For every move I make, he undoes another. Little fires starting everywhere and not enough water to extinguish them. First his nephew. Then the Water Tribe boy. Then the Avatar. Then the unfortunate situation with you.” His forehead creased. “Despite your low opinion of me, I did not know what he was going to do that night until one of my little songbirds came to me. I do have honor, contrary to your belief.”
Not enough , she chaffed inwardly.
“Besides, the capital’s opinion of him, of the entire family, is plummeting with each passing day. They whisper that he is no better than Azulon, that he is worse than Azulon. Their Queen is gone. Their Golden Prince mutilated. And now he is gone as well.” He held her still with his gaze. “Zuko is safe. It was only Ursa that I could not save. He moved too quickly.” A twinge of sadness entered his voice. “I tried. Never mind that. If we are to survive, you must rise to the occasion. If you wish to survive, you will do as I say.”
Yue held her breath.
“You must become the queen.”
“I beg your pardon?” She sputtered, blinking rapidly.
Tzumoro chuckled. A genuine laugh, like that of a father, and Yue felt her cheeks redden. “You precious little fool. I cannot save you if Ozai decides he wants you as his concubine. And I'm sure he would consider it, but that is not what I am saying. Ursa won the favor of the masses through benevolence. They knew her. They loved her. You will assume that mantle. Make your face known. Make the people worship you. That is the only thing that will keep you safe. Princess Azula…Azula is many things, but she is not the person for such a task.”
“Do you really think the people of the caldera would be loyal to a foreigner? A foreigner, I should add, who is the Phoenix King’s prisoner?” Yue could not keep the venom from creeping into her voice. “They only tolerated my marriage to Zuko because they were afraid of Ursa and Ozai. You can make me dance around with a pretty flame point tiara, but it won’t make me one of them. It won’t make me one of you.”
The man tossed the pear from one hand to another with what Yue could only describe as nervousness. She had never seen Tzumoro ill at ease. “Ursa claimed you as one of her daughters. The daughter she always wanted, a little snake that she could teach to slither and bite. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that glint in your eye, child. That darkness is there. Ursa planted that seed of calculation and self-preservation in you.”
I am not like her.
Yue lifted her chin. “I will do this, under the stipulation that you allow me to communicate with Zuko. And that you let me write to my family.” She had not seen them in two years. How much had her chubby little brother grown? And her parents? She could not remember the comforting bite of the cold nor the way the sun turned the palace into a gleaming white diamond. The warmth of the hot springs had been forgotten.
Lord Tzumoro stiffened. “Do not presume that you have the upper hand,” he replied sharply, “I will make sure you have the chance to write a letter to your family in the North Pole. As for your other request, I simply do not have the power to do so. Prince Zuko is no longer in the Fire Nation. I do not know where he is. After Lady Ursa’s ally gained custody of him, he was lost to me.” He pushed himself to his feet and offered his hand. She took it and he lifted her with chivalry. The squeeze on her forearm was warning enough as he escorted her back into the main halls of the palace. He released her as he broke away to venture into the corridors of the administrative offices. Tzumoro paused. “I do not mean to pry, but have you…” he gestured vaguely, “do you regularly bleed with the moon?”
The princess whirled to face him. “For the most part, yes,” she admitted and she saw Tzumoro’s face open and then close, containing whatever thoughts he had within. “May I ask why that concerns you?”
He coughed into his hand. “Do take care of yourself, Princess Yue,” he responded instead, leaving her to twiddle her thumbs.
That night she was restless. She dreamt that she was with Zuko, relishing in the way his warm hands cupped the back of her knee and kissed her every time he thrusted into her and flooded her with ecstasy, the way he looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman on earth, whispering unintelligible words that made her warm all over. And then his face became Ozai’s and what was once pleasure became a grueling, relentless ache that left her writhing and shredding the linen sheets in an attempt to get away. For what felt like hours she remained awake, burying her fingers in Tui’s fur until at last she closed her eyes once more. Even then she slept fitfully, tossing and turning, plagued by dreams of her family being slaughtered. She dreamt of Zuko’s death. She awoke drenched in sweat with the blanket tangled about her legs. Tui licked her cheeks.
Tzumoro’s question came back to her.
There were times where it was not uncommon for her not to bleed every month. On occasion, ever since she was thirteen, she would go two or even three months before her cycle began again. Her blood hadn’t come after and she had nearly starved herself with worry, contemplating if it were better to hang herself with a sheet or throw her body down the tallest flight of stairs she could find. It had been different with Zuko. It was not something she would welcome (nor would she ever) but it was certainly better than the idea of carrying a monster’s spawn. The day of his disappearance, she had been determined to keep him close, and with devious glee she had pulled him onto and into her to convince him to stay. It had worked (almost). Neither one of them had thought to be more cautious. (Zuko was a man, and men did not have brains when they were between a woman’s legs.)
Yue awoke at dawn before her handmaidens arrived. She stood in front of the mirror and turned sideways, cupping her breasts and studying the flat plain of her belly. Lord Tzumoro’s words swirled and eddied through her mind. Her stomach churned. What if Tzumoro’s implication had some truth? What if Zuko’s child grew within her? She didn’t feel different, no more than she had expected to look and feel different after her wedding, but she had noticed no true change. She had shed the last remnants of early adolescent gangliness, and her hair had grown longer, but she had remained the same.
She had not bled since Zuko’s disappearance.
Yue envisioned a child with Water Tribe curls and Fire Nationer skin with round amber eyes. Absolutely not. She would die before giving birth in this den of snakes. That’s if Tzumoro didn’t poison her first.
Yue shook her head.
Her task of becoming the face of the Fire Nation had given her a purpose that she hadn’t realized she had been yearning for. After all, she had spent her childhood being groomed to become the model Tribeswoman, to become like the graceful Koi fish of her family sigil. It came easily, naturally even, and with sardonic amusement she joked that she had become Ursa’s perfect daughter.
I will wear your shoes. And then I will burn them.
She chose to dress herself, forgoing the assistance of her handmaidens, and studied herself in the mirror as she combed her hair. Yue couldn’t bring herself to cut it. The Moon Spirit had chosen her and the world would remember it.
Yue hesitated, looking down at the flame point tiara. You must become the Queen.
‘ You are a Phoenix, now. I pray that you have learned how to burn and to fly.’
Yue raked half of her hair into a topknot, wrapping it in place with her last blue ribbon. With the same resolution that a warrior would have donning his headdress, Yue set the coronet in place. You must become the queen. You must become the queen.
“Maya,” she called out as she exited her bedroom, “assemble a guard for me. I don’t want a palanquin. I want a uni-horse.”
The servant leapt to attention from her position outside of Yue’s room. No doubt she had been waiting for Yue to call her to attend to her. The young woman met Yue’s gaze with the sparkle of inquisitivity. “Princess Yue? May I ask where you intend to go?”
The white haired princess smiled. “There’s an orphanage on the other side of the island, right? Come with me, we’re going to stop by a store in the market square first.” If Tzumoro charged her with the task of winning the Fire Nation then it meant all of his little songbirds were aware of her intentions. And what better way to make her face known than to play with motherless children?
Maya dipped her head. “As you wish, Princess.”
Yue had never left the palace grounds unaccompanied. In the few instances where she was permitted to leave the Phoenix’s roost, she had gone with Ursa on her political excursions or had ventured with Zuko to whatever dork-ish fancy. Azula had dragged her along with Ty Lee and Mai which inevitably ended with Ty Lee spending an exorbitant amount of her parents’ money. It always came back ten-fold, she had explained. Her parents were large stakeholders in the metalworking industry. Yue felt as if she was a child sneaking out of her house to cause mischief, even as she mounted a freshly groomed uni-horse and Maya seated in the saddle of another. Two palace guards mounted on komodo-rhinos lingered a respectable distance behind. Yue had carefully chosen her attire: she had dressed in a qipao of soft pinks and berry reds. Her tiara glinted in the light. Upon her neck she wore a gold chain from which a Phoenix pendant hung.
A daughter of the Fire Nation.
The middle class of the capital eyed her curiously as she rode past them, pausing to greet the children staring up in awe. It was perhaps the first time they had seen and touched a real princess. Azula would rather set the entire caldera on fire before she played with a group of children.
Queen Suraya’s Home of Loved Children had been founded two hundred years before and had been extremely well-funded since. It was apparent from the high layered stone walls that encircled the orphanage. The path to the entrance was lined with trees whose branches had intertwined overhead, casting the cobblestone in a cool shadow. An artificial waterfall had been crafted on the side of the building, forming a pool from which Yue heard peals of laughter. The children came into view as she approached, chasing each other through the water.
A gray haired woman, who had called herself Lady Akeri in her written correspondences with Yue, stood watch over them, looking on solemnly as the princess and her entourage drew closer. “Princess Yue.” Her greeting was cool but respectful, although hesitant. “I have heard of your beauty, but it is different to see it for myself.” The children scampered over to her, peering out curiously at the Fire Nation princess and her white furred dog from behind their caretaker’s skirts. “Children, address the princess.”
The little ones saluted her, lisping her name between missing teeth. The oldest was no more than seven and the youngest only two or three. One had the round steel gray eyes of the airbenders while another had pale green irises. Discarded bastards. The green eyed boy might have been dumped by a highborn family who was no longer interested in the novelty of an Earth Kingdom child. Lady Akeri nudged the children forward. The gray eyed little girl had the markings to be a stunning Fire Nation beauty when she was older. The other gray eyed child was clearly her brother. “Introduce yourselves.”
The tallest boy was from the Earth Kingdoms. He called himself Matheo. Yuri and Yohan were siblings, with Yuri being five and her brother only three. I wonder if their father felt guilty after stealing them from their mother’s people. Yue reached into her saddlebag before sliding down gracefully. To the girls she each passed a doll and to the boys spinning tops and painted kaleidoscopic glass marbles. The motherless children beamed up at her, the benevolent young blue eyed princess who had emerged from her castle to grace them with her presence.
A princess guarded by a monster like all the stories.
Yue grinned to herself as the children embraced her and she knew that just like that, she had won them.
Upon her return to the palace, she was greeted by the sight of Azula seated at Zuko’s desk, facing the door with a dangerous scowl marring her countenance. Tui growled as she stepped in front of Yue, earning a menacing glare from the firebender.
Azula rose and strode forward until they were toe to toe, noses nearly touching. Yue was taller although it didn’t stop the younger woman from baring her teeth. “What do you think you’re doing?” Azula hissed.
Yue schooled her features. “You all but threw me to the wolves after the Queen was executed. I am saving myself.” There were other monsters to be afraid of. Then again, Azula was no monster at all. They were far from friends, but the Phoenix Princess had made a promise to her brother, and their mutual love of Zuko had bound them closer. “I am saving you as well.”
“I don’t need you to ‘save’ me.” Azula’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. At last she stepped back and allowed Yue to step fully into the room. “Any word from Zuko?”
The Princess of the Northern Water Tribe sighed. “None. Tzumoro won’t let anything slip. You have a better chance of hearing something than I do.” She had yet to send her letter off to her parents. “I know that he’s not in the archipelago.”
Azula squared her jaw. “He could be anywhere.”
Yue recalled the moment Azula’s façade had finally cracked and the vulnerable young woman beneath had broken through. It passed fleetingly across her face. “And we are here.”
The amber eyed princess exhaled to hide her embittered chuckle. “And we are here.” Her eyes flickered over Yue’s form, lingering on her midsection before settling on her face. “The servants are whispering.”
Yue stiffened. “They’ll believe what they want to believe,” she retorted. “And even if it was true, your father would have me dumped in a river.” If it were true, would Azula be the one to slip poison into her tea or would she uphold her promise to Zuko? Yue was not inclined to find out. Her gut twinged. “It wouldn’t bode well for your family to kill every woman that married into it.”
Azula’s lips twitched downward and a cloud of introspection fell over her countenance, no doubt thinking of her mother who had been the catalyst for the unrest that was beginning to unfold. She resembled her mother in that moment; Yue wondered if she saw a ghost in the mirror every morning, hard eyes and hard mouth, ready to watch the world burn.
——-
Blood stained her sheets.
Yue exhaled in relief, sending out a prayer of thanks to whatever god that had decided to heed her prayers and grant her wish.
She bathed quickly and dried herself, kissing Tui’s nose before tossing on a blood red tunic and unbraiding her hair so that it fell in moon-colored waves. Every outfit was meticulously curated, down to the order in which she assembled her anklets and bangles. It had not taken long for the lower classes of the caldera to cling to the idea that she was a People’s Princess. The orphans and the elderly, the servants and the dock workers had turned towards her as if she had the gravitational pull of the moon. They had no queen, but a princess would suffice.
“Lady Maiko awaits you,” Maya intoned as Yue stepped out of her room with Tui on her heels. “Brunch, and then working in the gardens at the intermediate school, remember?”
“I remember.” Yue’s response was clipped. How could she forget? Her days were filled with purpose. Engagement after engagement, feeding the poor one day and gifting work boots to the dock men on another. Ursa had had a twenty year head start to gain the favor of the caldera. Yue had a weight tied to her ankle: she was a foreigner, a prisoner, sullied by the groping hands of an increasingly morally questionable king. Perhaps that, too, had endeared her to the commoners. She dared not think of it.
Maya trailed her. Yue was not so foolish as to think that the servant wouldn’t report the state of Yue’s sheets to Tzumoro, who undoubtedly would breathe a sigh of relief. “Princess Azula will be on one of the little islands today with Ladies Mai and Ty-Lee, along with the rest of her associates today.”
Yue hummed. “She told me.” They had dined together the evening before in a tense quiet. “Is the palanquin ready?”
The servant nodded in the affirmative. “Whenever you are, my lady.” At the flippant wave of Yue’s hand, the young girl scampered off to ensure Yue’s departure would go smoothly.
Yue continued on. She knew she would find Lord Tzumoro in his solar with his young daughter, enjoying their tea time before the man set about licking Ozai’s boots and cleaning up his fiascos at the same time. I have done everything you have asked of me. The people of the caldera love me. As long as they adored her, then the demons of the Phoenix King’s dynasty would live for another day.
As she approached Tzumoro’s solar, a formidable silhouette drew closer and closer still. Yue felt her heart climb to her throat, constricting her breathing and voices in her head screamed at her to run.
Ozai.
He walked towards her, as tall and imposing as he had always been, dressed in what could pass as casual wear for royalty. His raven dark hair spilled freely over his shoulders like a cloak. Yue trembled and Tui whimpered, lowering her belly to the ground between Yue’s legs. The Phoenix King stopped in front of her.
His eyes met hers, carefully ineffable, and Yue felt cold fingers travel down her spine. The Phoenix King did not move. Yue did not blink. She looked everywhere but at him, at the walls and the floor, and the painting on the wall behind his shoulder. It was a portrait of Fire Lord Azulon in his pitiful latter years, paranoid even in a commissioned painting, as if he had been afraid that the artist would stab him where he sat. Yue turned her head.
“Princess. Did I scare you?”
Yue was terrified.
She forced herself to look at him and saw that the man’s lips had twitched into a thin, coy, smile. “No, my lord. Of course not.”
He reached out, running the back of his hand against her cheek almost tenderly and Yue flinched. “I can smell your fear, girl.” He was amused. Ozai turned his hand until his palm was cupping her face, running his rough thumb over her skin before twirling a lock of hair. “You have kept yourself hidden and distant since the death of my wife and the disappearance of my son. Do you find my presence discomforting?”
Yue swallowed and tried to take a step back, only for his grip on her face to tighten. “No, of course not, Your Majesty. I-I-I only wanted to… it has been a strange and stressful time for our family, Your Grace, has it not? We both mourn the loss of our loved ones, yes? I wouldn’t dare pester you with my existence.”
At last Ozai released her and scoffed. “I do not mourn a wanton traitor.” He gave her a once-over free from any lascivity; it was more derisive than anything else. “I would assume you would be relieved to be free of the deadweight that is my son, although you remain bound to the dynasty by the law of marriage whether he is dead or not.” The Phoenix King glanced down at her dog. “It serves you well to engage in philanthropy. It suits a woman such as yourself. I have heard that the lower classes are quite fond of you.”
“I strive to be an exemplary woman, Your Grace. What better way to please you than through piety and generosity?” Yue forced herself to smile prettily as the Phoenix King brushed past her.
She allowed herself to relax, only to yelp when his arm tightened around her neck, dragging her backwards until she was pressed against his chest. Tui barked as Ozai spun her mistress around until Yue’s face was pressed against the wall, staring into the deranged blank eyes of Azulon. Ozai’s other hand pinned her arms behind her. His lips brushed against the lobe of Yue’s ear and she knew he was smiling.
Ozai’s breath was warm on her neck. “I can think of other ways to please me.” He shoved her away and took a half-step back. And just as quickly, as if she had imagined the whole thing, he continued down the hall. She swallowed back a sob.
Lord Tzumoro could wait.
Lady Maiko’s estate was just as Yue remembered and the woman herself looked the same as the last time Yue had seen her, save for a few white strands of hair near her temple. She was waiting at the gate as Yue’s litter drew closer. As Yue descended from her seat the older woman pressed kisses on each of her cheeks. “Princess Yue, I thought it impossible for you to be even more beautiful. But here you are, the moon could not compare to you.”
“You flatter me, Lady Maiko, but the moon gave me life. She will always outshine me.” Yue grasped the woman’s hands as she sat on the balcony overlooking the estate’s carefully manicured lawn. “It gladdens me to see you are well.”
“And you thrive, Princess. Songs of praise follow your name.” A servant appeared with a tray of brunch foods, setting it down in front of the noblewomen. Lady Maiko watched the young man coolly as he stepped away, her wrinkled smile falling. “I’m sorry you remain in a snake pit. Even though it appears as if the most dangerous viper is gone.”
Yue bristled. “I would rather face a manipulator than tiptoe around a monster.” She took a sip of water. “They were both demons, just in different forms.”
Lady Maiko nodded, keeping her eyes on the door behind Yue. “They tend to attract each other.”
“Of all the things they have done, I think the most heinous was her way of hiding the Phoenix King’s…transgressions.” Yue knew she could speak freely in front of the woman, the only one who had warned her of Ursa’s ruthlessness when all others were prepared to watch her drown.
“My husband is equally as guilty, I will admit. I will not sweep his role as an accomplice under the rug. Ursa did not dispose of them alone. The Queen would not suffer the embarrassment of having her husband’s bastards in the capital. Especially nonconsensually created bastards at that. It was only when he was angry, when the world would not bend to his will. Never the same girl more than once or twice.” Lady Maiko snorted and used her chopsticks to pick up a bite of eggs. “My dear husband did as he was ordered. I’m sure poor Lord Tzumoro would have suffered a heart attack if you had fallen pregnant after…that unfortunate incident. With that said, the usual mmm- termination tactics would have had every nation knocking on the Phoenix King’s door. They have sisters and daughters. If the Phoenix King could kill a daughter of a ruling family with impunity, it would have meant war.”
Yue laughed bitterly. “But he can abuse and violate me?”
The older woman did not flinch. “A woman’s lot in life is not always easy. I am not saying that what you endured made you stronger, certainly not. Suffering is not the only way to actualize your power. You take the cards that you are dealt and you play the game.” Her eyes rose to meet Yue’s. “Lady Ursa did not come to the capital as a master of politicking. Who do you think taught her? Why do you think we sided with Ozai all those years ago? He was a rising star and we aspired to touch the sky. And as you see, child, we did. Ursa killed my husband because she knew he would side with the Phoenix King when he discovered her deception and infidelity.”
For a long moment they did not speak. Yue mulled over Maiko’s head words. “I want him to fall.”
“I’m sure you do, sweet one. But you are just one against a giant.” Maiko patted her knee. “Ozai is preoccupied with the growing threat of his nephew. If you are out of sight then you are out of mind. You may choose this moment to escape.”
Escape.
Yue leaned back in her seat. She had not imagined that gaining the favor of the dock workers could be used to her own advantage. Would they let her steal away on a ship bound for the Earth Kingdoms? Could she somehow make her way back home?
Home.
The idea of it made her heart flutter. She would give anything to see her family again, to feel her father’s forehead kisses. To sit at his knee while he wrote to his aloof uncle on the Ice Wall. Yue discreetly wiped a tear.
Lady Maiko watched her. “I am an old woman, my dear. Over these long decades I have made many friends. What would you do, dear, if I told you I knew where Prince Zuko was?”
Yue floundered, setting her pastry on the plate before it could sully her shirt. “Please don’t be so cruel.”
The widow hummed. “You know that I am not. He is in Garsai, on his way to his cousin who continues to the peninsula. Perhaps, if you manage to reach Prince Lu-Ten, you will be able to plead your case to him to annul your marriage and send you home.”
The princess hesitated. It felt easy. Too easy. All she had to do was sneak aboard a ship in the dead of the night and then, after so long, she was free. Yue dared not breathe. “Lady Maiko, it has been a pleasure.” She grasped the widow’s hands as Maiko kissed her cheeks. “What’s your favorite flower? I will send you an entire bouquet of them.”
Maiko smiled as if she knew a tantalizing secret. “Lavender, my dear. I have always loved lavender.”
All joy, however tenuous it had been to begin with, was scorched away when she was ambushed by Azula and Lord Tzumoro in the main courtyard. Azula wore a triumphant grin, a cruel glint of amusement in her eyes that caused Yue’s stomach to turn.
She dipped respectfully to each of them in turn, allowing her face to fall into a courtier’s neutrality, and waited expectantly. “I should hope that you bring auspicious news if we meet here under the lovely sun.”
Azula rolled her eyes. “Auspicious for us, not so much for the Southern Water Tribe’s chieftain.” She bared her teeth, more predator than human, and Yue felt her stomach plummet to her feet. “The Most Excellent One of Taku sent her attack dogs after him after my mother paid her off. And guess what? They bungled the job and couldn’t kill him, but they did wound him so badly that if he even manages to continue his campaign, he’ll be holed up in some rundown podunk town for months. They blew his leg to smithereens.”
“Wait, what?” Decorum slipped through her fingers. Frantically she looked at Azula and then at Tzumoro. An incessant ringing between her ears threatened to overtake her. “What do you mean?”
Lord Tzumoro cleared his throat. “Princess Azula, albeit she could have said it somewhat diplomatically, is correct. Before her untimely departure, Queen Ursa had corresponded with the Tsolah the Most Excellent to stall or incapacitate the young chief.” Yue noticed that the man was looking everywhere but at her.
Yue felt herself crumble. “What do you mean? What do you mean?” Sokka…they had nearly killed him . They had maimed him. She thought she might retch. “Ursa did what?” Before she could catch herself, she sank to her knees and the sob she had been trying to contain tore out of her. She cracked and splintered like broken glass for the entire palace grounds to see while Azula stared down at her in contemptuous amusement. Why would they do this here, in the courtyard? Bile curdled in her gut.
Because they wanted to see her fall apart.
Break her, break the North.
They would do what they wanted with her mind, just as they had done what they wanted to her body.
Azula nudged her with the tip of her pointed boot. “Get up.”
The flagstone was warm against her cheek. Azula’s boot prodded her ribs once more, insistently this time. “ Get up .” The amber eyed young woman hissed. “You look pathetic, get up.”
Lord Tzumoro knelt. “Princess, this is not becoming of you.”
Yue did not care what was becoming of her. They had taken so much from her, had destroyed whatever tattered shreds of dignity that remained, and yet still they dared to say she was uncouth. Hadn’t they done enough? Hadn’t she endured enough? Yue dug her nails into the flagstone as she rose, inhaling deeply. I am of the North. There’s winter in my bones. The North Pole had withstood the tests of time. She could survive this as she always had. “My apologies,” she chirped, “you’re right. It won’t happen again.”
——-
She chose a new moon to abscond. Under the cover of darkness she shrugged on the darkest clothing she could find, pulling on her boots and wrapping her hair in a scarf. She had considered using ashes to darken it but there had been no time. Yue looked down at Tui. The white polar dog would stand out like a beacon in the dead of the night but she refused to leave her beloved pet behind. Tui was the last remnant of her life before it all fell apart. Yue pulled the hood over her head. She had approximately an hour and a half before the night watch would change shifts. Keen observance had taught her that some guards were lazier and moved slower than others. She had waited for the indolent men to be assigned to the night guard, knowing that they would leave her quarters unattended.
Yue raised the glass of the window and peered down at the garden. There was an ingress just beneath her window for the gardeners where they stored their tools. It led directly to one of the exits of the palace, allowing the workers to arrive and leave unseen by more refined eyes. She wasn’t sure how long the tunnel was, but she figured that the silence of the night would cover any blundering. Yue scooped Tui into her arms and grunted at the weight of the polar dog. Her white tail swatted Yue in the face as the princess dumped her unceremoniously over the ledge of the window. Tui landed surprisingly gracefully, waiting keenly for her mistress as Yue scrabbled through the window. She braced her fall and rolled into a crouch, shooting a glimpse back at the window. It was empty.
She released the breath that she had not realized she had been holding. Her mother would swat her with the sandal for her impulsivity and recklessness. I could have done worse things. Less life-threatening things for sure, but it was too late for regrets and half-measures. At this point, what truly did she have to lose?
With her back against the wall, Yue felt her way along the perimeter of the garden. Tui crouched low and inched along behind her, ears rotating to catch every sound. They ducked into the tunnel, not giving themselves time to breathe as Yue high stepped through the darkness. The tunnel was much longer than she had previously thought, and after turning what seemed to be a labyrinth of corners she found herself standing before a wrought iron entrance. The lanterns of the plaza cast long shadows over the concrete. Yue counted her breaths.
With Tui on her heels, the white haired princess dashed across the plaza before stopping in the shadow of the main gate. It would not be easy to scale the gate and not get caught, nor would there be any gaps that would allow the body of an adult woman to crawl under.
Apprehension filled her. It wasn’t too late to turn back and return to her rooms. She could pretend she had gone for a midnight stroll. It was not too late to be a dutiful and demure wife, just as she had always been a dutiful and demure daughter, and she would dance to whatever tune the Phoenix King played. She was a Koi and the ocean was very big.
But was water not her natural element?
She thought of Sokka, who was so brave that he marched halfway across the world. She thought of Katara, who was so brave that she accepted her fate as the Avatar. She, too, could be brave. She was not a Polar Bear Dog by birth, but they had accepted her as one of their pack. And even though Hakoda was not her father, she sought to make him proud. He had died in front of her. It was the least she could do.
With strengthened resolve Yue scanned the wall for any gap or nook. If she tried to carry Tui over then surely they would be caught. There, halfway down the line of the gate was a gap between the wrought iron and stone. Just wide enough that if she turned sideways, she could fit through and pull Tui with her. With a deep inhale the princess lifted Tui into her arms once more, cradling the canine against her chest and grumbled when Tui licked her cheeks. It was a tight fit. She had to shimmy through the gap, scraping her skin on the stone, but at last they were free.
Yue suddenly felt very small. She had not expected to truly be free from the palace’s walls, from the opulent prison that had tormented her life for so long. The ocean is so big, and I am just a fish. Yue dared to look back. The bravest fish could swim against the current. So could she.
Yue drew the cowl over her head. The Fire Nation palace was technically within the city, though it was still a distance away from the streets of the caldera city. The streets were devoid of activity during the night, leaving their presence easily visible. She could only hope that they could make it to the wharf before the guards caught wind of her escape.
They moved quickly, covering as much ground as they could before they were able to reach the cover of darkness from the buildings. Even though there was no mandated curfew, there was an unspoken rule that highbrow citizens were not to wander at such unholy hours.
The late hours are for witches, vagabonds, and whores. Yue could hear her mother’s voice. Tui sees all.
A few lost souls wandered throughout the clean streets of the capital, offering her no second glance when the young woman and the white dog walked quickly past them. Yue tried her best to avoid the cluster of people lingering about, the more unsavory types that were few and far between in the capital city.
The world seemed so much bigger in the dark.
They drew closer to the wharves. The buildings were closer together, lashed and bleached by sun, sand, and rain, and the roads uneven from potholes and mud. Her boots and Tui’s paws were soon covered in dirt.
Tui began to growl. Yue’s breath hitched and she grabbed her dog, diving into the shadows of an alleyway. The thundering sound of boots and the screeching barks of search-and-retrieve mongoose-hounds caused Yue to involuntarily whimper. They had to have changed the watch rotation. She should have had more time.
“She couldn’t have gotten too far,” a man’s voice rang out. One of the chief household guards. “Hiroto and Zoryu should pray that they just get fired for this fiasco, that’s if the Phoenix King doesn’t have them killed!”
“I am more inclined to handle them myself.” Lord Tzumoro was amongst their number.
Yue raised her head. The lower rungs of a fire escape were just a few feet away. Her thoughts were like a flurry in her mind. The trackers were drawing closer. Gathering her strength in her legs, the princess leapt and grasped a hold of the metal rungs, flailing her feet for purchase. Tui scrabbled after her. Please, please.
As they made it up the first set of steps, the baying of the hounds grew louder and their handlers appeared around the corner with shouts of surprise. “There she is!”
“Quick, get her!”
The alleyway was lit by a burst of fire. The scorching fireball connected with the metal banister, superheating the metal until it glowed red hot. Yue jerked her hand away with a scream, tears springing in her eyes as her palm throbbed and the burnt skin immediately began to blister. Her feet skidded out from under her and she smashed face first onto one of the steps before toppling over the railing. She flung her hands out to break her fall.
Yue felt a sharp pain reverberate up and through her arm, as if she had been struck by lightning. There was a brief lull in the waves of pain, as if her body was regathering itself, as if her body could not register the pain of her burnt hand and the sharp ache that was traveling up her forearm. She was unable to breathe. Yue let her head fall back against the concrete, her chest heaving as the pain came in ragged waves from her wrist.
The men clustered around her, their yellow eyes like hunters in the dark. One had seized Tui with a rope collar. Lord Tzumoro’s face hovered above her own, twisted with anger. His fist closed around the front of her cloak, jerking her to her feet and lifting her from the ground. He shook her roughly.
Despite the pang radiating through her bones, Yue kicked her feet in an attempt to strike Tzumoro in his torso. He evaded her with ease. “ Let me go!”
She dangled from Tzumoro’s hands, his glare raking over her skin. “I’m afraid, child, that I cannot do that.” He slung her down and Yue landed on her injured wrist, crying out in agony. “You stupid, insolent little girl! How could you be so foolish! What do you think would have happened to you if the wrong man found you here in the city in the dead of the night, alone? What do you think would happen if Ozai discovered you were missing? Do you really think he would let your Tribe live?” The man rubbed his temples before scooping her up. “If you intend to drive me to an early grave, just say it.”
Yue gasped as needles of pain stabbed her skin. “Just let me go.”
“And now why on earth,” Tzumoro squeezed the broken bone, “would I do that?”
The young woman sagged against his chest. She wept as the Phoenix King’s advisor carried her brusquely, mindful of her injury but only begrudgingly. He reprimanded her with every step although his rebuke fell on deaf ears. She was only aware of the waves of pain crashing over her and the pounding of her heartbeat between her ears. Tzumoro hauled her to the infirmary, slinging her down onto the sickbed. Doctor Chin had materialized, his glasses askew and face wan from exhaustion.
Tzumoro turned to the physician. “My sincerest apologies, Doctor Chin, it seems that our beloved Princess Yue suffered a momentary lapse of judgment. Thanks to the resourcefulness of one of the watchmen, we were able to find her before she got too far.” He glared at Yue. “How severe is her injury?”
Doctor Chin winced sympathetically as he pried Yue’s arm away from her chest and examined her swollen wrist. “Fortunately it seems to be a simple fracture,” he turned her hand one way and then another, “ice for the bruising and a splint should be sufficient.” He looked expectantly at the nobleman. “The princess has had quite a stressful night, my lord, perhaps she would best be left alone?”
Lord Tzumoro sighed. “Do as you must.” The door slammed shut behind him.
The physician turned back to Yue. “Was that wise, child?” He crossed the room to the table that held most of his supplies, withdrawing a pair of gloves and white gauze.
Yue averted her gaze, a sense of shame washing over her. “I just want to go home.”
Doctor Chin smiled sadly as he dabbed at her injury with a damp cloth. “I’m sure you do.” He worked methodically. “I suppose we all yearn for peace and stability- things that we have lacked in the last months. Our queen’s passing only exacerbated the situation, especially after what befell Prince Zuko.” Doctor Chin carefully set her arm in the splint and wrapped her wrist. “But impulsivity will only get you killed. Just as Prince Zuko was burned. Ozai will not suffer your disobedience.”
She ground her teeth. “What else can he do to me that he hasn’t done already?” He could beat her perhaps, but Ozai did not look like the type to strike a woman with his fist. He would do other things (worse things) but it seemed above him. He would torture her in other ways.
The older man did not respond. He snipped the cloth with a pair of scissors and patted her knee. “You should rest.”
At dawn Azula charged into her room with a murderous cloud over her features that made Yue cringe. She had not slept after Doctor Chin placed her splint and she had been escorted by four men back to her quarters. A female guard had posted just outside of her door.
“You and Zuko clearly deserved each other. Both of you are idiots.” The firebender strode forward. Her nostrils were flared. “I would have thought that you would have an iota of common sense after being in the Fire Nation for so long, but it appears that I put too much confidence in you. All you’re good for is making sure the Northern Water Tribe stays in line and opening your legs to my brother. But you couldn’t even do that right.”
Yue shrank away from the younger woman. Azula seethed.
Yue buried her face into the pillows, hoping in vain that her sister-by-law would be merciful for once and leave her in peace. Azula did not move. Zuko had charged his sister with the task of ensuring Yue’s wellbeing, although she had abandoned her in the weeks after Ursa’s death. “If you’ve come to gloat, Azula, then just leave me alone.”
Azula’s lip twitched wryly as she sat beside Yue on the bed. She tossed an unsealed missive in her general direction. “If you had managed to blunder onto a ship, you might’ve missed the sappy response from your mommy and daddy,” she gloated, “and your little brother.”
The white haired woman bolted upright and snatched the letter from Azula’s waiting hand. The seal was broken, but there it was: a wax stamp in the shape of a koi fish. Yue quickly unfurled the paper. Her eyes scanned its contents and welled with tears at the recognition of her father’s clerical script. Yue pressed the letter against her chest, keenly aware of Azula watching her wordlessly.
Little fish,
‘Your presence is sorely missed. My heart aches to see that you have grown into such a beautiful young woman, but you have made your ancestors proud, as well as your family. Even your cousin Chief Commander Tonraq with whom I have shared correspondence. He fares well at the Ice Wall and has made great strides in his endeavor. He has asked for more men to join his ranks. I am sure that you have taken on your own projects in the Fire Nation and that you excel at them. We in the North Pole are a determined folk, never buckling under the pressure of the sea nor snow.’
Yue leafed through the other pages until she saw her mother’s handwriting. She bit her bottom lip. She had last seen her mother on the day she left the North Pole, adorned in her finest violet and indigo furs, her dark hair pinned by an exquisite comb. Yue could almost picture her leaning over the desk as she wrote. She wrote of the North and her people, and sweet little Kuruk. He was two years older now, growing into his features, no longer her chubby brother with cherubic cheeks and unruly dark hair that his nurse Amanta wrestled into plaits.
‘ The snow may fall and the winter winds will blow, but the ice does not forget.’
They had not forsaken her. Perhaps they were not like the Polar Bear Dogs of the South Pole, they did not gnash their teeth and flash their claws, but the Koi did not falter nor buckle and break. The ice and snow had withstood the winds of time for millennia and their memory ran long and deep.
The Northern Water Tribe would not forgive.
Yue could feel Azula’s prying gaze over her shoulder. After pressing it close to her heart, she neatly folded the missive and tucked it under the pillow. “You read my letter,” she accused.
Azula examined her nails. “Of course I did. We might be sisters-by-law but you are still a hostage. Don’t tell me you thought that my father was going to let you write to the enemy freely?” She reached to produce a binder that she had brought with her, thrusting it into Yue’s hand. The Phoenix Princess smirked deviously.
“Did you know precious little Zuzu was hiding a secret from you?” Azula sang as Yue accepted the folder. “All this time, he was his father’s son. Even after our father burned him.”
With trepidation Yue opened the binder. She furrowed her brow. The first pages were rough drawings of what appeared to be an ocean sailing vessel. Its design was not dissimilar from the Fire Nation ships that she had seen, aside from its size. She flipped the page. The following drawings had clearly been created by an engineer or architect who had placed a scale on the page. Yue quickly did the arithmetic: the ship was massive . It was heavily armored yet seemed to lack the sufficient housing quarters for a naval unit.
The next pages were pictures of barrels of blasting jelly accompanied by scribbles of equations for its creation as well as the vast quantity. Twelve tons.
The ship had been designed to withstand the extreme temperature changes between the Fire Nation shores and the North Pole…
The North Pole.
Yue swallowed. “Azula, what is this?” She held the notes. Sketches. Calculations. Progress reports. Narrative updates. Dozens of them dating back years. All in Zuko’s handwriting save for the most recent, which had been penned by Azula’s perfectly precise script. The last page was the copy of a certificate of completion signed by the head of the Ministry of Development and the Princess herself. It had been finished only days prior. Her heart sank. “What is this? Azula? Azula!”
The princess was silent.
“ Please, Azula. Tell me what this is!”
“It’s exactly what it looks like. A vessel that will carry twelve tons of blasting jelly to the North Pole in order to annihilate your people whenever my father gives the command. Precious Zuzu kept a nasty secret from you. Would you have done all that you did, if you had known?” There was no cruelty in her voice, only a curt inquisitorial lilt that hurt more than a knife in the gut. Azula observed Yue passively. “Did you expect anything different?”
Not you, Zuko.
People are not good and the world is not kind. Choose yourself above all others.
But Zuko was good. Zuko was kind. Zuko was honorable. Zuko was the Crown Prince. Zuko was Ozai’s son.
The tears streaming down Yue’s cheeks did not cease, no matter how much she willed them to. She tossed the bound papers at Azula. Yue wasn’t sure what she had expected. For Zuko to be better than the others? For the Phoenix King to have even a modicum of humanity? Her broken wrist throbbed. More than her life was at stake. If she moved wrong, if she crossed Ozai, then the ship would sail and the Northern Water Tribe would burn.
“Get out,” she said quietly.
Surprise flickered across Azula’s perfect features. She remained motionless as Yue sprang to her feet and pointed at the door. “Get out,” Yue repeated, louder this time. Tui’s hackles bristled. “Get out, Azula.”
The firebender sneered. “You really thought Zuko would pick you over our father’s acceptance? He said it himself. The Agni Kai was a ‘ momentary lapse of judgment’. Had Father not disowned him, he still would have worn the Heir’s Crown and still would have slept beside you each night. Do you know why, stupid? Because we are the Phoenix King’s children. ” Her expression shifted to one of both mockery and pity. “And Zuko stuck me here playing babysitter .”
“Get out!” With her uninjured arm Yue flung the closest and heaviest thing she could find, a boot, at Azula’s head. The slender young woman dodged with ease. Yue hurled the other shoe. It collided with the door. “ Leave me alone!” She screeched. Azula evaded Yue’s clumsy attempts to strike her, nudging Yue’s shoulder to throw her balance.
Yue staggered and fell into a heap at Azula’s feet. She tasted the salt of tears and blood and realized too late that she had bitten her tongue. Yue curled in upon herself. She felt cold and hot all at once. Her heart thundered like a drum. Pounding and pounding and pounding again. I can’t breathe. Yugoda, Hakoda, Katara, Sokka, Cousin Tonraq, Mama, Dada, I can’t breathe.
Azula’s expression was one of scornful pity. She toyed with the straps on her armor with meticulous precision and adjusted her gauntlets. Yue could not find it within herself to stand. From this angle Azula appeared as a giant, more god than girl. Yue realized that her hatred for them all had never ceased, only compartmentalized for the sake of survival, and as she pushed herself into a standing position she began to imagine Azula choking on her own blood.
Zuko was good. Zuko was kind. Zuko was honorable.
Zuko was of the House of Sozin, and the House of Sozin had destroyed all that she held dear.
Azula lifted her chin. “We received the news that Lu-Ten has taken the Estival Peninsula. As soon as Father gives the command, I will leave.” For an ephemeral heartbeat she paused and Yue caught a glimpse of the uncertain young woman who had watched her mother die. The young woman who, in her own way, was lost. “You will remain here.”
Alone.
With Ozai.
Defeated, Yue hung her head. What did it matter? She was to die here. Her home, her Tribe, her family was going to die a horrific death. She had spent weeks, months, gaining the favor of the Fire Nationers, ignorant of the fact that the Northern Water Tribe was in grave danger. What was the point? Everything was futile. Everything was for naught. Yue was tired.
Yue was tired.
Azula refused to leave. “Are you really going to lay there and mope? Did I really waste my time trying to make something of you? My mother made a Phoenix out of you, and now look at you. You are nothing.”
The blue eyed woman turned her head. She felt the heel of Azula’s boot press into the splintered bone. Yue hissed and snatched her hand away just as Tui bared her teeth and growled. “I am not nothing ,” Yue spat in response.
“Then get up,” Azula replied with contempt. “And do something. Get up and be something.”
Yue glared at her as she rose, standing over the smirking firebender. Ice and fire met, gold and blue, two ancient regimes bearing down upon the other. I am a Koi. And for better or worse, it was what they had made her, it was what they had broken and forged her into and may the spirit-gods forbid, they would not break her. Be that it may, she would do whatever necessary to make sure the ship never sailed. I am a Phoenix.
Chapter 57: Crossroads of Destiny
Chapter Text
Sokka
Sokka woke up screaming.
He was alone, save for Amarok, who immediately snapped awake at his master’s distress. Sokka batted at the thin sheet wrapped around him. He balled it up and tossed the blanket onto the floor. His chest heaved. He had dreamt of the combustion-benders once again. The nightmare plagued him more often than not and each morning he awoke feeling more haggard than the night before. He reached for the crutch leaning against the bed with a groan and hauled his body upright. Sokka gritted his teeth.
No salve could alleviate the burning itch of his injury, sometimes it was so insufferable that he contemplated just asking the doctor to cut the rest of his leg off so he wouldn’t have to deal with it.
Unfortunately the doctor had an inveterate sense of honor and ‘ethics’ that made him as interesting as waterlogged wood and even if Sokka asked, the man would shoot him down.
Sokka had mistakenly joked to Mika, who had gone white with terror, and that was when Sokka realized that perhaps his braggadocio was starting to scare the others. Well, that was their fault. His life was in shambles. He might as well laugh about it.
He let out a line of expletives as the crutch slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Amarok leapt to his feet as Suki thundered into the room, her pale eyes stretched wide with panic. The warrior woman quickly surveyed the room before settling on Sokka and his shame. Suki flew across the room, draping her arms over his shoulders and lifting him as she tucked the crutch under his arm. “Why didn’t you call me?!” Suki tutted.
The young Tribesman ground his teeth. They all treated him like he was made out of glass, never looking him in the eye, falling quiet whenever he hobbled into the room. He was Sokka the Broken. Sokka the Cripple. He gathered his balance and Suki moved away from him, even though her arms were still outstretched to break his fall should he stumble.
It hurt to see pity in Suki’s eyes. They had bonded over their roles as warriors, and what was he now? He couldn’t swing a sword or hold a spear while using crutches. He couldn’t lead from a sickbed. She and Kunip had taken charge of the army while they bunkered in Tosoura.
“I just figured you were busy,” Sokka replied. He shuffled towards the door and wondered if she had heard him waking up from his nightmare. Spirits, he was no better than a little boy. At least he hadn’t pissed the bed.
Yet.
The auburn haired woman shook her head. “Not at all, Kunip’s taking care of things. Yanik is keeping himself busy with the dogs.” Her hand rested on his forearm, squeezing just so. Normally he would have flexed his muscles. “The rest of the boys are keeping busy. Toph is…Toph.”
Sokka analyzed the hall. The Grand Seneschal of Tosoura had been kind enough to let him recover under his roof. (In exchange for a favor, of course. It was always about favors.) He had called upon some of the best healers in the unclaimed lands, including a surgeon from Garsai who was famous for his ability to make prosthetic limbs. The man was still some days away from arriving. In the meantime, Sokka had been inundated with the news of the world falling apart.
Seriously falling apart.
He could hardly absorb it all. How could he? His sister was crossing the continent taking down Fire Nation army bases as she went. (She had better not have found a boy, but if the reports were accurate then she had. His stomach turned at the thought of it.) On the other side of the unclaimed lands, the Phoenix King’s nephew had unleashed his dragons and rained death and destruction on a Fire Nationer outpost before claiming the Estival Peninsula. The entire half of the region was quaking in fear. Who wanted to stare down the gaping maw of a dragon? And perhaps the Order of the White Lotus was frightened as well. Had they not elevated the lost Prince so that they could overthrow his despotic uncle? It appeared that they had tossed their coin in the wrong basket and created a madman instead. And they expected Sokka to get along with him?
Sokka did not want to think about Yue.
He could not think about her without being filled with a vicious, fulgurant rage and the incessant desire to tear the Phoenix King apart limb by limb. It was a brother’s rage and a brother’s duty even though he did not share her blood. He would do the same for Katara. He would do the same for any woman. The Phoenix King had forced her into a marriage with his son and then forced himself upon her before killing his wife and son when they dared speak out. Or so it was said. Sokka was not certain of the minute details but the Order of the White Lotus had not lied to him yet.
Even though he wished they had.
Suki quietly cleared her throat, bringing him back to the present. Sokka snapped from the dark cloud that had begun to form in his thoughts. He would avenge Yue, just as he would avenge his father. All things take time, his father would say, a hunter does not strike without first viewing his surroundings.
The corridor was quiet. The Grand Seneschal valued silence more than he valued gold, and Sokka had yet to see any new domestic workers scurrying around aside from the handful that assisted him. Suki lingered as Sokka shuffled after her. She picked at her lip. “Here, let me-”
Sokka swatted her hand away. “I don’t need help!” He snapped, an uncharacteristic anger tearing through him. Suki flinched as if he had struck her. Sokka exhaled and looked down at the space where his right leg should have been. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I just…” How could he explain to Suki that he felt useless? That suddenly it seemed like everything had turned to dust? How could he explain that he didn’t want to be alive?
The Kyoshian hesitated. “Let’s get some fresh air.” It was a command more than a suggestion and Sokka felt his chest twinge.
She guided him through the quiet corridors of the Grand Seneschal’s residence and into his sweeping mosquito-plagued garden. The trees were overhanging, casting the dirt path that wound through the garden in perpetual shadow. Dragonflies and horned hummingbirds flitted about, drinking from the vibrant pink and yellow flowers that had clawed their way through the damp earth. It had been constructed around a growing meranti tree that had carvings of ancient lion-turtles in the bark. The Grand Seneschal had called it the Ancestral Tree, a remnant of an old religion that had once been prevalent throughout the unclaimed lands. The practice was older even than the sun-worshipers and the earliest waterbending clans. Older even than elemental bending itself.
Sokka could neither confirm or deny the fact, but the Ancestral Tree inexplicably called to him all the same. He could not call himself a particularly spiritual person- the spirit gods had not given him an innate connection to the moon and sea like his sister (who was the Avatar, of course). The hairs on his arms stood on end. He began to make his way to the tree, never allowing his eyes to leave the dark crown that nearly covered the sun when he stood beneath it.
They were not alone.
The Grand Seneschal’s daughter kneeled in front of the ancient tree with her nose pressed to the earth, her fervent whispers of prayer fading as she became aware of their presence. Sokka had gathered that she was a spymaster of sorts, albeit an especially discreet one. Information from the world outside of Tosoura came through her. She raised her head. The Grand Seneschal’s daughter was barely taller than Toph, even though she was in her thirties. From her neck hung a pendant in the shape of a lotus flower that signified her as one of the innumerable members of the Order of the White Lotus.
“Chief Sokka. Lady Suki.” Lady Maral’s voice was both crisp and sonorous. “A pleasure.” Her citrine colored eyes passed over them. She slid to her feet and dipped into a shallow bow. Opal beads were woven through her hair.
Sokka nodded in greeting. His experience with Tsolah had made him skeptical. Well, more skeptical than usual. The Grand Seneschal and Maral had given him no indication of ill intentions, and it seemed that they were on the same side.
Who knew a game piece would be so handy?
Maral made a sweeping gesture at the Ancestral Tree. “My predecessors had called for my presence,” she said, “and who am I to deny the ancestors? Yours may be of the sea and ice, but I’m sure they will listen if you speak to them here.” She cleared her throat. “My father says that Doctor Zhang will arrive within the next day or so and he looks forward to meeting you.”
Sokka wondered how she had mastered being so perfectly polite at all times, like Yue trapped in the viper’s den. Despite himself, he felt a twitch of excitement run down his spine. Doctor Zhang was going to fix him. He wouldn’t be Sokka the Broken. Maybe Sokka with the Fake Leg but that was better than the alternative. One night he had dreamt of his father and he admittedly had wept to Suki at the idea of his father being disappointed in him.
‘Why would he be?’ She had said, her eyes glittering under the cover of darkness and her cool hands grasping his. ‘Was he ever?’
Never, Sokka knew.
Lady Maral smiled thinly. “I shall leave you to your prayers,” she said as she passed, laying a hand on Sokka’s forearm in a foreigner’s imitation of the Water Tribe salute. It was too loose; she didn’t grasp his arm like a true Tribesman but the sentiment was the same. He was protected under the Order of the White Lotus. Within the walls of Tosoura and under the banner of the Koala-goat, they were safe.
The woman moved quietly for an earthbender, which he found surprising. He was accustomed to the soldiers’ staccato and Toph’s swagger. Despite only being twelve, Toph had utterly wiped the floor with her during their bending spars. Lady Maral had acknowledged Toph’s superiority with tacit grace. It was better that way. Much to Sokka’s chagrin he had learned that Toph Beifong would bulldoze her way through any adversary, including Suki and Sokka’s men. Poor Touqa had been launched halfway across the courtyard.
When he was certain of Maral’s departure, Sokka allowed Suki to assist him with lowering himself to the ground in front of the tree. He crawled closer, finding it easier to move on all fours (all threes?) than it was to walk. The roots of the Ancestral Tree were thick, plunging deep into the earth, and its flourishing branches promised to one day touch the cloud line. Sokka exhaled the breath that he didn’t know he was holding. Would his ancestors even be able to hear him so far away? Would they even pay attention to the pleas of a man who had never paid them mind?
Suki knelt and closed her eyes. Her forefathers were different from his own. They were followers of Kyoshi, who had split the earth, and they had survived on their rugged island for centuries. Sokka followed her lead.
Supplication did not come easily to him. Even during the ceremonies back home, he had only shown respect by lowering his head while his father and sister had been genuine and ardent in their prayers. It was not to say that Sokka was a nonbeliever, but his mind had always been firmly in the present.
Maybe they would hear him now and pity him. Surely he deserved that?
Dad, if you’re there…if you can hear me…I need you. I don’t know if I can keep going on. I want to go home. I miss IcePoint. I miss Katara.
I miss you.
He tasted salt as his tears slid unbidden down his cheeks. What if Suki was wrong? What if his father had turned his back on him? Sokka knew it wasn’t true, but the dark thought had sunk its claws into him. He began to cry in earnest, stifling the sound by putting his knuckles against his teeth. Sokka felt like a little boy, lost and desperately searching for his mother’s skirts or his father’s hand, for anything. For anyone.
Anyone.
The tree and the earth and the wind did not reply.
Suki was perceptive enough to know that he did not want to speak. Wordlessly she helped him stand, offering her shoulder and squeezing his other hand. She smelled like soap, lemons and lavender. It was shockingly feminine for her. He breathed her in and his skin warmed. For the first weeks Sokka was afraid that Suki would find him grotesque, but her eyes had never lost their adoration and her kisses (as fleeting as they were) were just as sweet as the first.
The others were already waiting for them when Sokka shuffled into the dining hall. Touqa was the first to offer a hesitant smile. It came out wrong, more like a grimace, where his lips were stretched too wide and he showed too much teeth. The others watched him expectantly, save for Toph (for obvious reasons).
At the end of the table sat Mika and Yanik. Yanik was reticent, his lips pressed into a thin line. His countenance was sunken and gray, and his brown eyes had grown dull and listless. He found comfort only when he was with the dogs, so much so that Mika reported having found him curled up with them in the kennels, stroking Yukka’s fur and whispering to the ghost of his brother. They had to force feed him in the first days after they had left Taku. He had refused to eat or drink as he mourned his brother.
“Nice to see you, Chief.” Toph’s voice managed to lighten the mood. “About time you and Fan Girl join us.”
Sokka chuckled. “Nice to see you, Toph.” He took a seat in the empty chair between Kunip and Touqa. “What’s for breakfast?”
Touqa pulled a face. “No more of that vegetarian mess, I hope. I’m a Tribesman. I need meat to keep these muscles firm, yeah?”
“What muscles?” Toph teased. “I beat you in an arm wrestling match.”
The young warrior swelled. “Aye, well, you caught me on a bad day! Don’t forget you’re just a little girl, Beifong.”
The earthbender slammed her hand onto the table, pointing an accusatory finger in Touqa’s general direction. “You’re talking to the greatest earthbender alive!”
Kunip sighed and put his head in his hands, throwing a look of exasperation at Sokka. “You see what I’ve had to put up with, Chief? How many twelve year olds are in this room?”
Toph and Touqa both snapped their heads around with identical expressions. “It’s not my fault that you brought a little heathen along with us! She might be twelve but she’s a bully. The shorter they are, the more evil they get!”
Mika quirked a brow. “That explains a lot about you then.”
Sokka ducked as Touqa hurled an apple at Mika’s head. The table erupted in light-hearted chaos as they threw affectionate insults at each other, grinning all the while. Sokka found himself smiling along. They made life worth living still. The raucous group quieted as the Grand Seneschal’s kitchen staff brought out trays of an assortment of breakfast foods including cream filled pastries and chicken sausage. Not komodo chicken. Just chicken. It was delicious.
Mid-way through their meal, the Grand Seneschal himself and Lady Maral entered the dining hall. The Grand Seneschal was slender and well put-together, wearing a silk-spun black haori jacket over a prime white tunic that had been embroidered with fire-ferrets. His graying beard was neatly trimmed. His daughter had changed her attire, her skin tone appearing even paler in the jade green and yellow kimono that she wore. They both nodded their heads in greeting. “Chief Sokka!” The Grand Seneschal Tai-yun was surprisingly amicable despite his severe countenance. “I pray we’ve fed you well.” He declined the seat that was offered to him with a dismissive gesture. “A ravenhawk flew in with a message that I thought you would like to celebrate.”
The Bird King got his comeuppance by choking on a chicken bone? It was wishful thinking, Sokka knew, but a bit of Katara’s misguided optimism had rubbed off on him over the years.
The older man smiled warmly. “A flying bison has been spotted flying this way.”
Sokka raised a brow. Why would he care about an Air Nomad making a pleasure trip? It took several heartbeats for it to dawn on him. The Avatar was reportedly traveling with a leopard-caribou, a Banka-Kadian thief, a firebending turncoat, and an Air Nun. Katara. Katara was making her way to Tosoura. To him.
Lady Maral was equally jubilant in her own sophisticated way. “I wanted to tell you in the prayer garden, but I wanted it to be at a time where you were with your kinsmen. We anticipate her arrival to Tosoura in perhaps two weeks. By then Doctor Zhang should have arrived and made significant progress on your prosthetic limb.”
Unadulterated joy flooded Sokka’s veins, bringing tears to his eyes that stung when he blinked them away. It wouldn’t serve him to cry at the breakfast table. His bloodsworn clustered around him, hugging him and patting him on his head. They were weeping and laughing, as he was, and excitedly speaking over each other.
The Grand Seneschal and his daughter looked on, no doubt coolly amused by the fact that the leader of a great nation had turned into a giddy little boy in front of them. Sokka raised his head to the ceiling and for the first time in what felt like forever, Sokka felt like going on.
Doctor Zhang arrived two days later on a wagon drawn by a duck-moose with little fanfare, accompanied by two hired assistants that carried his luggage and equipment. He was gray haired and yellow eyed, of decidedly pure Fire Nation descent, with a drooping mustache that put most men to shame. He spoke quickly and succinctly and his hands, Sokka soon realized, were impossibly cold.
“I’ve fitted over a dozen replacement limbs in my twenty years of service,” the man said as he washed his hands in a basin. “The College has the most brilliant minds as professors. From all over the world, I should mention. Healers from the Water Tribes are the most desired surgeons. No one knows the inner workings of the human body like a waterbender.” His eyes twinkled with deep-set appreciation. “They invented artificial limb replacement as we know it. It is still a burgeoning practice, but we’ve made tremendous strides.”
Sokka watched him warily, eyeing the equipment that Doctor Zhang’s two assistants had sanitized and set on a table. They looked more like torture weapons. Sokka felt a chill run down his spine. “I also hope to make tremendous strides after this,” he said drily. Doctor Zhang’s assistants looked appalled.
The man snorted. “If all goes well then you should. You are young and will recover quickly. The physicians in your army were incredibly precise.” He dried his hands on a towel. “You have some years left to come into your full height, I imagine you will have to be fitted for another in the next few years.” With Sokka’s permission, he examined the amputation. “This is a very clean cut. Very rarely do injuries from shrapnel heal so uniformly.”
Sokka felt his phantom foot itch. He leaned back against the cushions. “So how exactly is this going to work?”
Doctor Zhang made a small hand movement to his assistants. One of them nodded and took a step forward, procuring a cloth while the other crossed the space to stand behind Sokka’s bed. “Trust me, this part will be for the best.”
“Wait, what-” In one fluid motion, the taller of the two younger men seized Sokka by the shoulders, blinding him with the strip of linen. The Water Tribesman began to struggle, crying out for help. “Kunip! Suki!” His yelp was cut short by the sickening thwap of a firm tool connecting with the side of his head. Stars peppered his vision.
“Harder, Ton, that won’t knock him out.” Doctor Zhang reprimanded. Sokka jerked in an attempt to free himself and croaked when the tool collided with him. His eyes, blinded by the cloth, rolled to the back of his head. Cold hands yanked on his ankle, dragging him down the length of the bed until he was flat on his back and Sokka felt himself falling.
His entire body hurt. The pain had settled deep in his blood until he was clenching and grinding his teeth, sweat pouring down his temples in rivulets. Sokka squeezed his eyes shut out of the hope that the pain radiating from his head and his leg were figments of his imagination. Death was better than this. His yowls were hoarse as he choked on them, gagging and sobbing. His hands had been tied to the railings of the medical bed.
It felt as though someone had dug their fingers underneath his skin and flayed him from the inside out before crushing his bones into dust. Sokka forced his eyes open and looked down.
He had grown accustomed to the sight of his right leg ending at his knee. His bowels churned. Angry red streaks ran across his brown skin, like a leopon had clawed him, leading down to the pulsing incision site. His amputated leg was connected to a prosthetic lower leg ending in a surprisingly accurate foot. The part of him not in pain could appreciate the intricate details that had gone into the replacement limb. It was a crass imitation of a real leg but he could see the wooden foot was attached to a ball joint that would permit a range of flexibility. It was held in place by-
Sokka vomited on the floor. The prosthetic leg was attached to him. Integrated into his skin. They had drilled through his bone. He hurled again.
“Ton and Mhejun are fetching the appropriate dosage of poppy tears right this moment.” Doctor Zhang slithered from Sokka’s blind side. His coat was spattered with blood. “They should have gone sooner, you shouldn’t be awake right now.” He sighed. “I am pleased to inform you that the operation went smoothly. The osseointegration process was successful.”
Sokka couldn’t find the words to ask for an explanation. He couldn’t find the words for anything really. His tongue was too thick for his mouth.
Doctor Zhang seemed to have read his mind. “I used the most innovative procedure available to me. Conventional prosthetic limbs are held in place by a harness or socket. They don’t offer much in terms of flexibility or natural movement. With you, Chief Sokka, I performed what is called ‘osseointegration’. Your replacement leg is more than a piece of wood hooked to a belt. It is a part of your bone.” He paused when Sokka vomited again. “Yes, a horrendous concept in theory, but rest assured this method would serve you better than the alternative.”
Sokka stared at him through pitifully streaming eyes.
“It will be some time before you can walk again. The bone has to heal. You will be confined to a wheelchair for at least three weeks and then we will begin therapy to stretch the muscles and adjust your gait. You will need crutches for at least a month before it’s safe for you to bear your own weight.” With cold, clinical, hands he touched Sokka’s knee, ignoring the young man when he yowled in pain. “It will be a difficult recovery, young chieftain, but all who know you speak highly of you.”
His eyes twinkled.
“I have no doubt that your father would have done the same.”
Sokka flopped back against the bed. Every fiber of his being was tense. Pain coursed through the very marrow of his bones. “Please give me the opium,” he pleaded. “Please.”
Doctor Zhang clicked his teeth. “Soon,” he assured him, “and then you will walk again.”
———-
It was Touqa’s turn to push Sokka through the Grand Seneschal’s manse. “Beifong’s got a crush on me,” the Water Tribe warrior complained, “and I like the little scoundrel but not like that. She’s itty bitty.” He turned the wheelchair through the breezeway that connected the residential quarters to the administrative plaza. “But I don’t wanna hurt her feelings. What if she decides to write to her cash cow father and he cuts us off?”
Sokka snorted. “Toph doesn’t seem like the type. And Hou Beifong doesn’t care about her feelings. He has a chance to put his bloodline on a throne.” Never mind the fact that an earthbender in the arctic tundra would live a miserable existence. “She’s twelve, she was bound to have an antelopuppy crush on one of us. She’s blind in more ways than one if she chose you.”
“I oughta push you right into a pond.” Touqa griped although his humor was apparent in his tone. “I’ll let Kyoshi handle it, y'know girls speak the same language.” He clicked his tongue at Amarok, who still refused to leave his master’s side. “Yanik should train you to pull this thing.”
Two weeks had passed since the operation and the pain had finally begun to subside. Sokka no longer felt the daily need for poppy tears. Doctor Zhang cautioned that trying to walk was still some time away. Sokka passed his days hearing reports from his men and watching the horizon.
Katara was coming.
Lady Maral confirmed it. A flying bison and a leopard caribou moving determinedly through the territory, set to arrive within the next day. The collective mood had brightened until Sokka’s bloodsworn were giddy and gleeful, in better spirits than they had been before the attack in Taku. Sokka’s thoughts were consumed by his sister. How much had she changed? Would their experiences push them apart or draw them together? Sokka could not imagine a life without her. They were scarcely a year apart, she existed even in his earliest memories.
She would meet Suki.
He knew his sister would approve of her. They were cut from the same cloth.
Touqa hummed. “I’d wager Katara is itching to see you just as much,” he said as if he had heard Sokka’s thoughts. “I have my club ready for that Banka-Kadian boy. Just say the word, Chief.”
The Tribesman chuckled. “It’d better not be the turncoat.” Sokka would rise from the wheelchair and crack the firebender over the head.
“Aye that’s even worse!”
Nightfall was beginning to bleed through the sky when the hired guards beat their drums and blew their horns to signify an approaching visitor. From the ramparts they announced the appearance of an armored bison trailing a leopard caribou ridden by a young woman.
The bloodsworn scrambled over themselves to catch a glimpse of the approaching party. Suki wheeled Sokka to the balcony overlooking the entrance of the Grand Seneschal’s keep. He clutched the arms of the wheelchair, his heart in his throat. The massive flying bison began its descent, revealing three silhouettes seated atop of it.
The leopard caribou slowed to a canter, tossing its magnificent head. Its rider sat astride in dark clothing.
There she was.
Sokka couldn’t quite make out her features, but he knew it was her.
The bison landed in a plume of dust. From its back slid a young woman and two men. The woman was dressed in the warm colors of the Air Nomads while her companions wore black shirts and pants. The guards drew closer just as the leopard caribou drew to a halt and its rider slid from the saddle. She was the smallest of the quartet.
Sokka pushed himself up from his seated position and craned his neck. “Katara!” He shouted hoarsely from the balcony. “Katara!”
Her head snapped up and even from the distance he would see her blue eyes brighten.
In a tangle of limbs with raucous voices the Water Tribe warriors raced down the stairs. Toph raised her hand and closed her fist, conjuring a platform of earth that allowed Suki to roll Sokka’s wheelchair onto the surface. The blind earth bender joined them, bringing her elbows together and plunging them down. They landed in front of the guards, a few yards from the bison and the antlered feline.
Katara met his gaze. Sokka swallowed thickly. She was beautiful. His sister had grown into her features, her thick hair cascading nearly to her waist, her azure eyes glistening bright against her brown skin. She was slimmer than he remembered, perhaps even a bit taller, her face more angular. She hesitated. Sokka could see her analyzing him, appraising the ruin of a man that he had become. “Sokka.” she mouthed. Once again, louder. “Sokka!”
She careened forward, throwing herself into a kneeling position at his wheelchair and embracing him. Sokka wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into her hair, sobbing openly. “Sokka,” Katara repeated his name as if it was a prayer, pressing her cheek against his chest. “Sokka…I thought I would never see you again.” Her hands caressed his face, running her fingers over his cheeks and forehead that had become so much like their father’s. “You’re real…you’re real.”
Sokka laughed weakly. “I hope so,” he hiccuped before Katara squeezed him so tightly that he thought she might break his ribs. When did she get so strong? Katara had nearly crawled into his lap, digging her fingers into his tunic as if she was anchoring herself to him. “I missed you so much,” Sokka choked out, “I missed you so much.”
His bloodsworn had drawn closer, each of them reaching out to touch Katara’s arms or shoulders or her hair, as if they, too, were confirming that she was tangible. They were the young men who were her older brothers in creed if not by blood. One by one they embraced her, Kunip first and then Touqa and Mika, and Yanik. She searched silently for Pauqa before her face crumbled with understanding.
Katara took a step back and swept her arm in the direction of her companions. “This is Tsephel.” The Air Nun was lanky and darker skinned. “And Jet.” Katara’s cheeks reddened as she pointed to the shaggy haired Banka-Kadian man.
So that’s the one I need to throttle.
“And Rojhan. He defected to our cause.” The Fire Nationer had the rigid spine of a soldier. He lowered his head in respectful greeting. “They…they’ve come a long way with me.”
Sokka hardly heard her. His attention remained trained on his sister. She had their father’s eyes, just as he did, but there seemed to be a sadness that had never been there before. He knew it was reflected in his own. They would talk later, he knew, but he could not bring himself to look away.
“This is Toph,” he nodded at the earthbender, “and this is Suki. She’s from Kyoshi Island.”
Katara sized up the warrior woman and Suki straightened her spine. After a brief pause the waterbender (the Avatar) smiled.
Toph quirked her lips. “Runs in the family,” she said.
“What does?” The Polar Bear Dogs answered simultaneously.
“The eyes.”
Katara frowned while Sokka groaned. “Oh cut it out, Toph!” He shook his head as the young girl cackled.
Katara reached for Sokka’s hand and didn’t release it even when they crowded into his bedroom. There wasn’t enough room for all of them but they squeezed into each crevice like a litter of pups. Katara knelt by his side and leaned into him.
“So…who’s going to go first?” The airbender, Tsephel, asked.
Sokka and Katara exchanged glances. Where did he even begin? How much did she know? How much did he know?
Sokka gestured to his leg. “I got an upgrade,” he drawled, “not quite as flexible as the old one but a heck of a lot cooler. Well, I’m still learning how to use it. And before that we got ambushed by the queen of Taku, who it turns out was in cahoots with the Phoenix Queen, who actually was killed by her husband. Really to explain it all we need thumb tacks and string.” He exhaled. “I kinda wound up betrothed to Toph, but it’s a farce. All in all, not a bad couple of years.”
Katara grimaced, clearly having forgotten his sardonic humor. “When the ship capsized in Banka-Kadi, I first met Jet.” She grinned at the young swordsman, “But then…some things happened in Terusan. That’s how we learned I was the Avatar. I ended up meeting a bounty hunter named Jun and she dragged me all over Banka-Kadi and Omashu until we wound up at the Eastern Air so they could teach me airbending. That’s where I met Tsephel.”
“Probably the best thing she’s done since leaving home,” Tsephel interjected. “Don’t forget to tell him how you sank the Fire Nation outpost into oblivion.” She looked pointedly at Rojhan, who was seated beside her. “And picked up a stray. Oh, and the magic tree!”
Sokka’s sister rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tsephel, I remember.” She turned back to Sokka. “The Phoenix King sent soldiers to root us out of the Air Temple. We fought them off and my friend, Jun,” her voice quavered, “she…died fighting the firebenders.”
She had lost so much, just as he had. “Like Tsephel said, when we got back to Banka-Kadi, I reunited with Jet and we’ve been making our way west ever since.”
Sokka held up a finger. “Two things . Explain this magic tree. And is this your ‘boyfriend’?”
The bloodsworn turned as a collective unit to face Jet. He blanched.
Katara groaned in exasperation. “Are you really going to do this now?”
“Better now than never,” Toph chimed cheekily.
Suki held up a hand. “How about we let Sokka and Katara speak in private?” She gripped Toph’s forearm and tapped on Kunip’s shoulder. She ushered the young men out of the room, trailed by Katara’s trio.
The door closed behind them with a click, leaving the siblings alone with Sokka’s four dogs sprawled out on the floor and bed. Katara twiddled her thumbs and bit her bottom lip. It wasn’t like her to be speechless. She looked down at his leg before quickly averting her gaze. A hundred emotions crossed her features. “I just want to go home.”
Hold it together, Sokka. “Me too,” he lamented, “I just want some seal jerky.” Katara snorted. “Look at me, Katara. Who’s going to take me seriously when we get back home? I can’t fight anymore. Not like this.”
“Yes, you can.” Her tone sharpened. “And yes they will. We’re the Polar Bear Dogs.” The last of the Polar Bear Dogs. “Once we take down the Phoenix King, it’ll all be over.” Katara lingered. “Most of it anyway. I won’t! I can’t! I’m the Avatar, Sokka. My problems don’t stop just because we stop Ozai. There’s so much you don’t know and that I can’t explain, but the world is in danger. Humanity is in danger.” She grasped his hands, her nails digging crescent moons into his palms. “I can’t go home just yet.”
Sokka ground his teeth. “Let it be someone else’s problem, Katara. Haven’t you done enough? Haven’t we done enough? I set out to avenge Dad and to find you. The Southern Water Tribe needs us. The world doesn’t. Let it be someone else’s problem.”
“I am the someone else!” Katara screeched. “All the Avatars before me kept ignoring the threat and now it’s on my shoulders, it’s my problem, and I can’t let the spirit-gods destroy mankind! I won’t let humanity die.” She was fuming, her nostril flared and hands balled into fists until her knuckles were white. She stood and paced the room. The polar dogs had risen at her outburst and their ears were trained in her direction. She was a true daughter of the clan of Nanook, she raged with the same passion that had elevated their ancestors to chieftains. “Your place is in IcePoint as the chief of the Tribe. It’s your destiny. Mine is to bring balance to the world.”
“You never would have known if it hadn’t been for Dad dying.” Sokka hissed. “You would have never known you were the Avatar. Our life would have never changed. We would have been happy. I would have been whole.” He realized he was shouting. “If what you say is true, then forget about it, Katara. Humanity is screwed. And if saving the world means that there will be more men like Ozai, then let it die!”
Katara’s lip curled in a bellicose snarl. “I can’t believe you! Do you hear yourself right now, Sokka? This isn’t what Dad would have wanted.”
His ire rose. “You were just a naive little kid. You don’t know what our father would have wanted. You weren’t there, Katara. You didn’t see what Zhao did to him, to our home. Open your eyes, Katara! The world sucks! There’s no world for mankind, not here, not nowhere!” That could’ve come out better. Spirits, he must’ve failed grammar school.
“A world for gods and no world for kings,” she whispered, mostly to herself. Sokka paused at her gibberish. Katara focused on him. “You’re wrong.”
Sokka let out a growl of exasperation. “Open your eyes, Katara! It’s not worth fighting the inevitable. If Dad wanted you to be the Avatar, then he would have told everyone. He would’ve let the Order of the White Lotus take you. But he didn’t. Y’know why? Because you’re meant to be a Polar Bear Dog. Just a Polar Bear Dog. Don’t waste your time trying to save a world that’s gone to shit.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks. She seemed to cave in upon herself. “Dad wouldn’t want this, either,” she sniffled. “Not for us to fight like this.”
Sokka opened his arms and Katara fell into them, weeping into his chest. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He could not lose his sister again. If he did then he would fall apart. Sokka held her close. He was reminded of their childhood, curled around each other like puppies, and their father had to untangle them to put them in their own beds. He was the man with the plans and she executed them. They were a team. They would always be a team.
Katara buried her fingers in Desna’s fur. “I’m learning to bend all four elements, y’know,” she quipped, “and a lot of other things in the Avatar State.”
Whatever that is.
She sighed, sensing his bewilderment. “I have a lot to explain.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Sokka leaned up. “Tell me about that scruffy looking boyfriend of yours.”
Katara turned the shade of a plum. “He is not scruffy!” She beamed. “He’s great. We reunited in Mo-Pet in Banka-Kadi. He’s a great swordsman, like you. He might seem a bit rough around the edges, but trust me. Now tell me about Suki!”
“You have terrible taste in men, but alright.” Sokka flicked his wrist. It could be worse. Ugh, she could’ve picked a man like Touqa. It was his turn to smile. “Suki’s great. She’s a Kyoshi Warrior. One of your past lives, I guess. But she’s great. I-” His words caught in his chest. “I like her a lot.” More than a lot. “The guys were unsure about her at first, but I can’t imagine the journey without her.” She had supported him (literally) through everything.
They still had a ways to go. The Estival Peninsula was still a distance away. They would meet the dragon prince there and then launch to the Fire Nation. Finally they would face Bird Brains and Sokka would take his revenge. Not just for his father but now for Yue.
Katara’s expression revealed that she already knew. A palpable silence hung between them.
The moon shone through the window, casting silver light around the room and illuminating the both of them. Sokka could hear laughter from the next room over. It had been a long time since he had heard so much joy. Since he had felt so much joy. He reached for Katara just as she reached for him and the last of the Polar Bear Dogs curled into each other. A Polar Bear Dog alone in the world is a terrible thing.
Dawn would come, like always, but perhaps it would shine a bit brighter, like it shone on freshly fallen snow back home. The sun would rise and Sokka, for the first time in months, looked forward to seeing it.
———
Sokka screeched as Doctor Zhang pressed his weight on his leg and pushed it up towards Sokka’s chest. Every fiber of his body felt like it had been stretched and ripped and stitched back together and stretched again. This doesn’t feel very therapeutic, he thought with great chagrin. Damn every physician that thought this was a good idea.
“If you don’t exercise then the muscles will atrophy,” Doctor Zhang explained. “It will get better in time.”
Sokka didn’t believe him.
The aging doctor grasped his wrist and pulled him upright on the table. “You’ve done well so far. I anticipate that we can begin practice with the crutches ahead of schedule at this pace.”
Katara sat on a stool in the corner, ever vigilant. She hadn’t strayed far from him since her arrival, save for tending to her beloved leopard caribou that she had christened Lusa. She probably would have climbed into bed with him if propriety hadn’t been a concern. She pushed his wheelchair through the estate, shooting daggers at anyone who dared try to relieve her of the duty. Sokka knew his sister had the inclination to be neurotic, but not quite like this.
Perhaps it was for the best. Let her hyperfocus on something inconsequential rather than world domination or whatever else psychopaths thought about.
After Sokka had thoroughly cowed Jet into submission (with Mika and Touqa’s help), he rather enjoyed the Banka-Kadian’s company except for his queer habit of chewing on pine straw or toothpicks. Having him close allowed Sokka to keep an eye on him even after threatening to cut his fingers off one by one. Jet had taken it well enough.
Tsephel and Sokka were so painfully similar that he felt as if he was looking in the mirror when she spoke. To the annoyance of literally everyone else, they had formed a quartet of quick-tongued scoundrels with Toph and Touqa. Katara seemed on the verge of pulling her hair out. Rojhan, who was as stiff as a board, always looked like he would rather gnaw on boiled leather armor.
Nevertheless Sokka also saw the way his eyes softened just a bit when he looked at Tsephel before she tore into him. A man cut from the same cloth, Sokka decided. Who didn’t like a woman who could body slam him?
Sokka rose from the table and extended his left leg until his foot touched the ground. He eased his right leg to the side of the table and let his weight settle on it, crying out as pain shot through his knee and thigh. In the blink of an eye Katara was holding him upright. “I wanted to test it out,” his mouth twitched into a brief smile, “that was a mistake.”
Katara sighed. “Of course it was.” She draped Sokka’s arm over her shoulders. “Doctor Zhang knows best.”
“Sure, goody-goody. You used to tattle all the time so what do you know?” Sokka yelped when her grip on him loosened.
The waterbender smirked mischievously but offered no verbal response. She guided him to the conference hall where Kunip and Suki were waiting to discuss their next steps in the war effort. While the Grand Seneschal had been accommodating, it became increasingly clear that he was anxious about potentially rowdy soldiers consuming nearly everything in sight. Sokka’s borrowed army was well-disciplined, but thousands of young men grew bored quickly and idle hands were prone to mischief.
The auburn haired Kyoshi Warrior flashed a smile at their entrance. She and Kunip were joined by Rojhan, the former Fire Nation commander, who was assuming the position of general-martial. Sokka was impressed by his acumen even though they had started on opposite sides of the war. Katara had picked up a strange bunch of strays but at least they were competent.
“Lu-Ten is expecting us by now,” Kunip began, “and he’s probably itching to get to the caldera if what they say about his character is true.”
“It’s true,” Rojhan said abruptly. His jaw pulsed. “I believe every word of it. But in any case, he’s better than Ozai.”
Suki lifted a finger. “He might not be as impatient as you think. His wife is pretty far along in her pregnancy. Maybe he wants to stay put until the baby is born. That would give us time to figure out how we’re going to take the caldera. Without jeopardizing Princess Yue’s safety.”
Sokka bit his tongue.
“It won’t take long to get to SunWatch, especially since we’ll be moving through allied and neutral territory.” Rojhan traced his finger along the map unfurled on the table. “Perhaps if we sent a small group ahead to have a parley with Lu-Ten’s faction. He might be less intimidated. We have to remember that he has two dragons. And he already demonstrated what he can do with them.” He ran a hand through his shorn hair. Sokka knew it to be a symbol of separation from the Fire Nation whether through dishonor or renunciation of citizenship. Rojhan had severed his ties to his country to follow the Avatar. “I think it’s best if we send out a group sooner rather than later.”
“The chief won’t be able to go.” Kunip sighed. “Not while he’s recovering.”
The younger Tribesman blubbered. “Yes I can!” This was his war. He couldn’t stay behind.
“Sokka, it’s not wise.” Suki laid a hand on his forearm. “It would be really hard on you in this state. You need a little more time to recover.”
His convalescence would take months. Sokka couldn’t afford to wait. Not when they were so close. He balled his hands into fists and opened his mouth.
Katara spoke out before he could. “There’s a way we could get there faster!” She paused. “I don’t know exactly how it would work, but it’s an ability I have as the Avatar.” Her cheeks flushed, suddenly bashful. “I can sorta pass through space and time. I’m not sure if I can bring someone with me, but we could try?”
Sokka side-eyed her. “Any other magic woo-woo you care to disclose?” Spirits, she might as well morph into a flying uni-horse at this point or grow two extra heads. Pass through space and time. Be serious. But then again, she was the Avatar. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
She shrugged. “I’m still learning! But it might be worth a shot. Sokka wouldn’t have to stay behind. If it works then maybe I could take multiple trips?”
It just keeps getting worse and worse!
And it appeared that they were all agreeing with her. Sokka’s mouth fell open as he gawked at the council. They were seriously considering her buffoonery. Damn it, Katara. Outnumbered, Sokka hung his head. “Well alright then. Give me three days.”
Katara would attempt to bring five across at the same time. Yanik opted to march with the Omashians and the dogs, perhaps apprehensive about being a hamster guinea-pig for the Avatar’s newest trick. Sokka, Suki, Jet, and Tsephel would be the first to cross over, while Touqa, Toph, Kunip, Rojhan, and Mika would follow. There was no guarantee that it would even work.
But they were going to try.
Sokka clutched his boomerang to his chest like a child might do to their favorite toy, his remaining foot tapping anxiously on the footrest of his wheelchair. Katara’s leopard caribou chuffed and pawed at the earth as if she also felt the buzzing uncertainty.
Katara was kneeling with her hands splayed out in front of her and her head bowed. It was as if she had been carved from stone. Sokka leaned up in his chair as his sister rose to her feet, her head rotating to solemnly take them all in. Tsephel and Jet, already familiar with her abilities, moved closer.
Like smoke, like water, Katara began to turn and glide on her feet as if she was airbending. Her unbound hair fluttered behind her. She did not speak.
“She’s going to be one of the most powerful Avatars the world has ever seen,” Tsephel whispered, her storm colored eyes glistening in awe. “She’s going to change the world.”
Katara closed her eyes and began to work her hands in wide circles, curling her fingers into claws that raked and pulled at the air. Sokka felt a tug on his being, reminiscent of the pinprick of needles, and a cold wind that rippled through his hair. He could feel his heartbeat in his teeth. His sister’s eyes glowed white. She began to bend and fold the air around them until Sokka saw what appeared to be seams fraying and coming apart. A whirlwind stirred to life around them and Katara pried open the stitch work between the realms, laying it bare. Streams of yellow and violet light poured out like blood. The portal between the spirit world and the human realm and all that lay in between had been cracked open and the threshold hovered in front of them. Katara’s head swiveled in his direction, pale eyes boring into him with inhuman intensity.
“Come.” She ordered in a thousand voices and one.
Suki gripped the handles of Sokka’s wheelchair and Katara brought her arms up and then down. The portal ripped open with a vast explosion of energy and blinding white light. Through the haze on the other side he saw the glimmer of a fortress and the sparkle of the distant ocean. He gasped.
Katara pushed her hands out as if she was parting the sea.
And then they stepped into the sky.
It felt wrong. Humans were not meant to transcend the confines of reality. Humans were not meant to be like gods, passing through realms with ease. The seam closed shut behind them. Sokka’s blood vibrated in his veins.
The vortex threatened to pull them apart at the seams. With a practiced kick, Tsephel broke the barrier and gusts of wind lashed out like whips. They began to descend rapidly until Tsephel gracefully bent the air to ease their fall until the group landed with little more than a quiet thud.
Katara collapsed to the ground. Jet caught her by her underarms and gently set her down as her eyes returned to their normal cerulean hue, clouded with confusion and discomfiture. Her nose was streaming and her chest heaved. Her brown skin was cast in a pallor. Katara opened her mouth to speak before promptly keeling over. Jet pulled her hair away from her face.
Tsephel rubbed her elbow sheepishly and thrust Lusa’s reins into Suki’s hands. “Yeah… about that. Energybending kinda does that?” She knelt by Katara’s side and laid a hand on her cheek. “She’s alright, just drained. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”
“No!” Katara choked out. She bolted upright and nearly knocked Jet over. “No, I’m fine! I can bring the others across.” With a weak finger she gestured to the fortress that loomed just over the horizon. Dragon banners danced in the wind from the ramparts. “We’re almost there.”
“Katara,” Jet rasped as she struggled to her feet. “Katara, it’s not safe!”
“He’s right, Katara.” Sokka held her in his gaze.
Katara looked between the both of them, her love and her brother, and set her jaw. Her eyes flickered white and then blue. She doubled over and gasped for air. “I have to get the others.” She squeaked as Sokka lashed out, trapping her wrist in his grip. “Sokka, brother, I have to get the others.” Katara knelt, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I promise.” She tore away from him and fell back into that strange state of consciousness that Sokka did not understand.
Tsephel conjured a burst of wind that shielded them from Katara’s bending. Her features grew forlorn as her beloved friend passed through the spatial void and it dawned upon Sokka that his sister had found a family of her own. She was a Polar Bear Dog, and she always would be, but she was more. Catching Sokka’s gaze, she smiled. “That sister of yours is about as much trouble as a bullfrog in a tea shop, but I’ll put up with her shenanigans for as long as it takes. We all will. Even that yellow eyed creature that calls himself Rojhan.”
Sokka scanned the horizon. Katara had delivered them on a hill overlooking SunWatch and its shadow city. The colony on the Estival Peninsula could rival some other great cities, such as Taku or Gaoling. Multi-tiered pagodas stretched along the horizon, leading down to the pier that launched ships across the sea. It was both sprawling and astonishingly organized, a captivating amalgamation of bright Fire Nation reds and oranges and black. On the western half Sokka saw the Prince’s army. Earthen camps were erected along the city walls draped in dragon banners and the hyeagle flag of Arakem. A gentle breeze stirred his hair, alerting him to Katara’s imminent return. Sokka tore his eyes away from the citadel just as Katara tumbled breathlessly from thin air, crashing onto her knees, sweating and heaving. The others were in no better condition. Touqa had gone white, holding Toph in his arms like an infant while she had wrapped her arms around his neck.
Katara flopped onto her belly, slapping Jet’s hand away when he reached for her. Sokka struggled to rise from his wheelchair. Katara inhaled sharply and blinked away the white haze. Her arms trembled as she stood.
I’m never letting her do this again, Sokka declared mentally. He would use every ounce of his big-brother authority. She might be the Avatar, but he was her brother and by law her sovereign ruler. Master of all four elements be damned.
“Good grief, Sugar Queen, that’s not something I had on my list of life experiences but I won’t complain. Tu-tu, cross off “magical field trip” off that list.” Toph leapt from Touqa’s arms. She narrowed her eyes and shifted her body to face SunWatch. “What’s that noise?”
A rapidly approaching leathery snap caught Sokka’s attention. A red dot appeared on the skyline, drawing ever closer. It grew in size, shimmering under the sun, barreling toward them at an alarming speed.
“You have got to be kidding me. Shit. You have got to be kidding me.” Kunip stumbled over himself. He gawked at the creature as it drew closer, reaching for the knife at his belt.
“What is that?!” Touqa exclaimed.
“It’s a fucking dragon.” Rojhan and Mika cursed at the same time. They slid into bending stances, inadvertently mirroring each other as Toph braced her feet against the ground.
“Nooo, I never would’ve guessed.” Tsephel snapped open her glider strapped to her back, pressing against Suki and her war fans. They clustered around Katara and Sokka, their faces reflecting both fear and determination.
With a roar the dragon descended upon them. It was terrifyingly magnificent. Its scales were a sparkling red and its mane the color of copper and gold. The sunlight caught on its translucent wing membranes as it cast a shadow that blackened the ground around them. It outstretched its paws, its gargantuan bulk shaking the surface as it landed a hundred feet away from them with a steaming hiss. The dragon glared at their faction with a haunting primordial intelligence that rattled Sokka to his core. He could almost feel it judging him, although he wasn’t sure if the dragon was considering him to be prey or a threat to be neutralized.
I can’t even run, do you really think I could take that thing on?
From the dragon’s back slid a man with the look of a Fire Nationer. He donned black armor and a sword on his hip. He was tall and slender, but it was his eyes that Sokka found to be unnerving. The man had looney-eyes. They were amber and accusatory. He laid a hand on the hilt of his blade before he drew it, taking them in and sizing them up. Perhaps he was baffled by the presence of an earthbender, Tribesmen, a Fire Nationer, and an Air Nomad.
Rojhan dropped into a kowtow. “Prince Lu-Ten,” he breathed, no doubt savvy of Fire Nation customs, “we come in peace.”
The man, the (in)famous Prince Lu-Ten lowered his sword. He gave Katara a once-over from her place on the ground before narrowing his eyes. He glared at Sokka, his lips twitching as he took in Sokka’s prosthetic leg. “You’re the Water Tribesman.”
Sokka threw up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I am the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. And that is my sister. The Avatar. She brought us here with her Avatar abilities.” Might as well address the elephant-goat in the room.
Lu-Ten did not blink. “The Order of the White Lotus said you would come. We are to take down my disgraceful uncle together and you will recognize me as the one true Fire Lord.” He glared at Rojhan. “If you travel with them then you have broken your allegiance to the Phoenix King. If I am to be your sovereign then you will wisely address me as Fire Lord Lu-Ten. Not Prince. Fire Lord.”
He’s nuts.
Rojhan did not reply for what felt like hours. “Yes, Fire Lord.” His response was crisp.
Lu-Ten glanced over his shoulder from whence he had come. Sokka could see small figures racing across the terrain while another red dragon flew apace with them. “My wife,” the firebender explained. “The Fire Lady. And my advisors.” He visibly relaxed. “It is an honor to meet the Avatar at last. And the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Our paths have finally crossed. Our destinies at this point are one and the same.”
His dragon chuffed. Lu-Ten laid a staying hand on its flank. He studied each of them with an unreadable countenance.
The magenta dragon landed beside the first. Lu-Ten darted over to it and extended his arms as a young pregnant woman waddled to his side. His wife. They made a handsome couple, Sokka remarked. She was a sun worshiper. Where Lu-Ten was tall and pale, his petite wife’s complexion was a deep bronze. Her dark eyes flickered over them before she dipped into as deep a bow as her belly would allow. “Chief,” she greeted him quietly, “Avatar. I am humbled to meet you. Fate has brought us together at last, yes?”
Katara had mustered a semblance of grace and had risen to her feet. “We are all here to make the world a better place,” she declared as three cheezebras thundered over the hill.
“I will be the one to slay my uncle.” Lu-Ten’s lip curled. “He is of the old world and he must be destroyed. When his blood runs over the floors of the throne room, then we will rebuild the world to be better. Brighter. Unified not under the threat of violence but under the promise of peace.”
To Sokka it seemed that the man had sunk into his own world. His wife laid a hand on his forearm as she took note of their stares of horror. Sokka had never heard someone say anything so aggressively violent yet optimistic.
Destiny (was it really?) had brought them together. By the will of the spirit-gods they had met at the crossroads of the old world and the new one. Yet as Sokka studied the future Fire Lord, the man so inclined to madness that his own people were wary of him, he wondered who would have the favor of the red string of fate.
Chapter 58: Mother of Dragons
Chapter Text
Yaretzi
Yaretzi sat alone at the window of the bedchamber she shared with Lu-Ten. Her husband slept, his back turned to her and his head tucked under the pillow, though she knew that his face would be tranquil. It seemed that many days passed where Lu-Ten was restless and the only respite he had was when he slept. The gods wanted him to become the Fire Lord at the expense of his peace. They had created a king and a dragon, and it had dawned on the Order that dragons could not be tamed. The gods wanted him to right the wrongs that his uncle had committed, but if he destroyed himself in the process?
She dared not think of it.
The sky bled pink and orange as the sun rose over the clouds. Yaretzi could see two silhouettes flapping away from the citadel. Izon was first and Izara followed. They would return at sunset, Yaretzi knew, and she wondered how many people had gazed up in wonder at the mystical creatures overhead. Even having grown up in the shadow of the dragon caves, Yaretzi would never tire of the sight. A meow prompted her to look down. Tozi brushed against her leg. Yaretzi scooped the cat up. “You must be hungry, yes?” She chucked Tozi under her chin and pressed a kiss on the top of the cat’s head. Lallo teased her relentlessly about her kitten but she had caught him dangling a string around more than once. Yaretzi pressed her palm against her midsection.
Each night she asked Citlali to show her an image of her unborn child but it seemed that her prayer went unanswered. Only days ago had she felt the fluttering kicks from within. ‘Quickening’ as Lady Sagal had called it. The Arakemeti First Spear had taken it upon herself to be the mother that Yaretzi needed, and the priestess lamented the fact that her own mother would not be present for the birth of her first grandchild.
Perhaps when it was all said and done, she would be able to take her little one back to her homeland. They carry the blood of the first firebenders. They will be blessed in the way of the Sun Warriors. Yaretzi would settle for nothing less. The Fire Nationers had their own customs and Yaretzi knew that she would have to raise their child in their strange ways, but this. This was different.
“Why are you all the way over there?” Lu-Ten’s voice, still raspy from sleep, caused her to turn around. Her husband sat up amongst the pillows with his arms outstretched to beckon her closer. He was shirtless, revealing his chest toned with muscle. A flush came over her cheeks. How many times had she seen him undressed (and how many times had he seen her)? It was nothing new. (Certainly not, considering she carried his child.) Seeing him in such a state caused her heart to flutter.
Yaretzi smiled and crossed the distance back to the bed. She settled beside him and giggled as Lu-Ten pressed kisses on her belly, rubbing slow circles over her skin and cooing nonsensical promises. His boyish smile was infectious. Yaretzi stroked his hair. This was the man she loved. This was the man she had been destined to protect. This was the man who would become a wonderful father.
Not the man whose eyes turned rabid and whose face twisted into an animalistic snarl when angered. Not the man who had burned an entire outpost and had been prepared to raze SunWatch to the ground. Not the man who had become more dragon than human.
Her good humor faltered. Perhaps she had made a mistake when resurrecting and healing him. Perhaps she had done something wrong or perhaps she had not been powerful enough to do it alone.
Sensing her souring mood, Lu-Ten met her gaze with a vibrant clarity. “Tenoch wants me to handle the petitions myself,” he pulled a face, “which means I’ll be stuck on that chair all day. And you? What do you have planned?”
Yaretzi paused. Her days were spent either trying to gain some semblance of normalcy as a new noblewoman or left to her own devices. She missed the structure of her temple attendant duties. “Zuko and I are going to check on the legion supply trains,” she answered, “he thinks that the Peninsula’s resources are sufficient to support the army as well.”
Lu-Ten scoffed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Of course he does.”
The young woman sighed. Lu-Ten’s dislike for his cousin had simmered and mellowed until he looked at Zuko with general contempt rather than venomous rage. The Phoenix King’s son was not how she had expected him to be. His spirit was a pure one, though misguided. It was to be expected. His father had sowed the seeds of malice within the very framework of his dynasty. Ozai would reap what he sowed and his downfall had already begun. Zuko did not speak much of the princess he had been forced to marry and whom his father had brutalized. Yaretzi was keen enough to note that he clearly cared for the Tribeswoman more than he would admit. Not love. Duty perhaps. “Your cousin was raised to have an eye for these things.”
“He was raised in the palace that is rightfully mine.” Lu-Ten bared his teeth.
Yaretzi laid a calming hand on his chest. “This is the path that the gods have chosen for you. Do not doubt Tenochizun and Citlali now, yes? We mortals cannot understand the will and workings of our gods, only that we must do as they command us.”
Tenochizun, powerful father, keep his mind strong. Don’t let the demons of his mind drown him.
She forced a smile. “Enough of that,” she said, “the day will not wait forever.”
Zuko and Bishara were waiting for her at the stables. Bishara grinned broadly. Somehow Lallo had convinced the First Spears to assign her to Yaretzi as a sort of sworn defender, a duty that Bishara had interpreted as being an overbearing but well-intentioned older sister.
Like Moema.
She missed her siblings. Admittedly she loved Lallo dearest, but her girlhood memories had been speckled with memories of Moema braiding her hair. Or of the two of them following Tuwa before Tonauac and Temena were born, staring into the flames as their mother instilled them with the knowledge of the dragons. It had all come naturally to Yaretzi, compared to Moema who had struggled to understand the moon’s secrets and the wind’s songs. Yaretzi thought fondly of the days she had spent sewing doll clothes for Temena or crawling on her knees after baby Tenotzi.
Would her baby brother even remember her?
Prince Zuko offered her a dip of his head and a mumbled greeting. Yaretzi took no offense. She had been skeptical of the prince and his brooding nature. (And admittedly she had spent the first few days after his arrival peeking around corners to study him. Tenoch had caught her once and had immediately turned around in the opposite direction with a befuddled expression.) After several days of snooping, Yaretzi had satisfactorily decided that he was trustworthy. He was mystified by the firebending of the Sun Warriors and tried to replicate their styles even though it didn’t not come easily to him.
He must unlearn what he has been taught.
Yaretzi took the reins of the ostrich-horse that the stable boy offered her and flashed a smile. The people of SunWatch had accepted Lu-Ten without much difficulty. Perhaps because of the dragons that wheeled overhead, or perhaps because the city had not been sacked. The governor had chosen to take her own life rather than face the sword and the wisest survivors decided it was better to genuflect than to face the maw if a dragon. The commoners were much the same.
Commoners.
It was a strange word. The highborn and peasantry did not exist in her culture- at least not like the outside world. There were no aristocratic dynasties that touted banners embroidered with animals. They were the Sun People, all of them from elder to newborn. Her family was well-known because of their connection to the temples and dragon-magic, and her mother was what could be considered wealthy, but they had no titles. Back home she had simply been Yaretzi, daughter of Tuwa, and the boy in front of her would have been of equal footing. She was a Lady now. Lu-Ten was adamant that he would be addressed as Fire Lord, as if he had already won the title, and insisted that they recognize Yaretzi as the queen.
The trio took off. The streets of SunWatch were crowded with vendors and people going about their day. The children were in their schools until the midafternoon when they would frolic about in their red and black uniforms. Yaretzi had visited the primary school and sat amongst the children. They had stared at her in wonder. A real queen sitting beside them learning arithmetic. It was not unlike the crèche back home where the instructor drolled on about math and firebending.
Zuko rode ahead, his head thrown high, and Yaretzi could see why his people called him the Golden Prince. In spite of his scar, he struck a handsome figure. Lu-Ten carried the same features more maturely, more at ease with his appearance than his younger cousin would ever be. Zuko’s eyes were not quite like her husband’s. They were forlorn, fraught with self-pity that he struggled to conceal. Lu-Ten’s were clouded with the arduous reminder of every dark card he had been forced to play.
The stronghold of SunWatch was set on the coastline of the sea that could carry them to the Fire Nation. Yaretzi had grown accustomed to the smell of sea salt and fish and watching the way the sun rose on the horizon. The landscape was lush with vegetation and primed for travel save for a few rolling hills. Outside of the civilized areas, there was evidence that it had once been swathed in dense forests. It had once been like the landscape of her homeland: dotted with caves and grottos deep in the belly of a tropical jungle, ripe with fruits and flowers and vines that were perfect for swinging upon. She could almost imagine a ziggurat rising from the earth. The Fire Nationers had chosen well when they colonized the peninsula.
Zuko leaned over and plucked a handful of leaves from a nearby bush, turning in his saddle with a boyish grin. “It’s a firebush. Can you be-leaf this?”
Yaretzi frowned, exchanging a questioning glance at Bishara. “What does that mean?” She whispered.
“It’s a pun,” the older woman explained as she rolled her eyes. “A terrible one.” She flashed a toothy smile at Zuko. “I applaud the effort.”
Does the entire family have a terrible sense of humor?! Yaretzi despaired. She already had to deal with Lallo’s insufferable propensity to use absurdly large words. “It was nice,” she offered.
It was easier to speak candidly when it was just the three of them. Bishara was perhaps just as much of a big sister as Moema. Yaretzi would not object if Lallo decided to marry her. Zuko spent a bit of time explaining to her the intricacies of the Fire Nation court. Much like Hodan’s court, it was full of conniving vipers that said one thing and did another. Unlike Hodan’s court, however, their sovereign was a murderer and rapist. He avoided the topic of his family, save for his sister. He spoke of her with both love and fear. Azula, he said, was susceptible to the same madness as her father, as Lu-Ten.
The supply trains were slow moving beasts that traveled the Vein of Commerce. They carried goods from Arakem, including weaponry, clothing, and various food items. The soldiers camped outside of the city walls distributed uniforms based on rank and legion. All soldiers generally dressed the same, even the women. Female Arakemeti soldiers did not wear their veils when in uniform. It was logical enough. A veil was easy to grab onto and would obstruct their vision. Since the conquering of the peninsula, they had grown considerably more lax.
“I used to manage the logistics of certain projects back home.” Zuko lingered on the last words with a hint of uncertainty. Was it still his home now that he was stripped of his claim? Lu-Ten had been gracious enough to let him keep his title of Prince, but he would never sit the throne. “There was a developing project that-” he broke off and his face soured with what Yaretzi would consider guilt.
Yaretzi eyed him.
“A project that I regret ever being involved in.” He finished finally, staring off into a past that only he could see.
“Consider serving Lu-Ten to be a part of your repentance,” Bishara offered. She tossed her hair. It was long and densely coiled, like her brother Sigei’s, often braided into plaits running to the back of her head. She wore it free now, no doubt due to Lallo’s pleading.
Yaretzi knew that the Arakemeti only owed loyalty to Lu-Ten as long as he lined their pockets. If Queen Hodan gave the order then they would turn around and march back to their country. Yaretzi thought back to the months they had spent in Hodan’s court. The queen of Arakem had made her colder, in a sense, after months of her insults that had carved into Yaretzi like a rock. Hodan had made her into a dragon. “There were worse crimes you could have committed.”
They came upon the first of the wagons soon enough. It was drawn by dragon-moose (meese?). There were some words that Yaretzi had never heard and such animals did not dwell in the jungles of the Sun Warriors. She lingered behind as Zuko wrote down notes about the goods they hauled, peppering the drivers with questions about the time it took them to arrive at SunWatch. He’s keen at this, she thought. He would prove to be a useful asset in the Fire Nation. She allowed him to take the lead. Bishara sat back in the saddle, clearly impressed.
Satisfied with the information gathered, Zuko wheeled around to return from whence they had come. “You could probably survive without the supplies from Arakem,” he noted. “Especially since we’ll be camped here for a few months.”
Perhaps it was for the best. Lallo fretted over her daily, so much so that Yaretzi felt that one day he would try to spoon feed her. He would argue vehemently against leaving SunWatch until the baby was born.
They were fortunate that the Estival Peninsula had been an autonomous state in all but name. SunWatch had its own established trade deals and a culture that Zuko said was rather distinguished from the traditional islander customs. The conquest had not affected much of the daily life of its citizens. Trade remained bountiful. The commoners were content.
Upon their return to SunWatch Lu-Ten was waiting for them with Lallo in the stables. Yaretzi exhaled a sigh of relief at the sight of Lu-Ten’s jovial expression. The morning had gone well. She had been afraid that they would return to the chaos of Dejen and Tenoch running themselves ragged in attempts to pacify him. Lallo had her kitten tucked under his arm. Thief. And Tozi, you traitor.
Lu-Ten raised his brow at Zuko. “You brood, cousin. Adolescent angst is not becoming of you.”
Zuko frowned. “My mother was killed by my father. My father raped my wife and then almost burned my face off. Can I brood in peace?”
The older firebenders seemed to ponder his words. “He has a point,” Lallo offered, “cut the boy some slack. Continue wallowing in your melancholy, little prince.”
Yaretzi looked at the heavens in exasperation. Citlali, please. She allowed Lu-Ten to lift her from the saddle. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her face flushed when he whispered the filthy things he planned to do with her later.
“Well?” Lu-Ten slid into the grace of the exemplary Fire Lord. “A positive discovery, I should hope?”
Zuko nodded in the affirmative. “I believe so. We can discuss it with Tsughara and Ishragha along with Dejen and Tenoch this afternoon once I get everything organized. However, I don’t think we should close the lines completely. If the Water Tribe chief is marching this way then SunWatch will have thirty-two thousand men posted outside of the walls before you launch to the caldera.” The five of them began the walk back to the keep. “You’ll need all the strength you can get when you face my father on his home territory. And my sister.”
Lu-Ten scoffed. “Your disgraceful father is a coward. And his sister is a teenage girl.”
“My sister’s flames are blue,” Zuko argued. “She’s one of the strongest firebenders alive.”
“Well it’s a simple answer then. I’ll leave her to you. If you value your life and are truly loyal to me, then you will destroy her. Or stand back when Izon bathes her in flames.” Lu-Ten’s tone was lackadaisical. “If she does not join me then she will die. You are the only wise one, cousin.”
Prince Zuko was silent. Yaretzi watched him as shadows of conflict flashed across his burned face. There was love for his sister. How could he not? Perhaps their relationship was strained, but they had grown up together. Their father had molded them both. He had told her stories of his childhood. Ozai had loved his children once.
She could not imagine having to face any of her siblings in battle. It had pained her deeply to threaten Lu-Ten. I must save him from himself.
They parted ways. Bishara and Lallo drifted off to do whatever it was that they did and Zuko wandered to his quarters. They would reconvene in the evening, she knew, with the First Spears and the elders of the White Lotus.
Yaretzi trailed her husband back to their shared apartments. He wrapped his arms around her as soon as the door was closed, kissing her neck and caressing her belly. Yaretzi leaned back against him.
“Look at you,” Lu-Ten rasped, “so perfect.” He turned her so that she was facing him, sliding her loose tunic over her shoulders until it pooled at her feet. Yaretzi instinctively covered herself and Lu-Ten pried her arms away. His eyes were dark.
Yaretzi would forever delight in the way that he could envelop her in his arms and carry her as if she was weightless. He was so much taller, sharp angles where she had soft curves, his hands rough where hers were smooth. He lifted her, setting her down on the edge of the bed and Yaretzi wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. She breathed out a sigh and squeezed her eyes shut. Lu-Ten shed his shirt, trailing kisses over her skin that left her shivering. His hand dipped between her legs.
“When I have my throne,” he kissed her ankle as he lifted it over his shoulder, “we’ll have a palace full of dragon riding children. Two sons and a daughter. We’ll rule all day and I-” Yaretzi gasped for air when he entered her, “I’ll make love to you all night every night. Forever.”
“You’ll still love me when I’m fat and gray?”
“I’ll love you even more.” Lu-Ten kissed her deeply. “How could I ever tire of you?”
Two sons and a daughter. She would give him that and more if he so desired. Sun Warriors and proper Fire Nation Princes, with his eyes and her skin or his skin and her eyes it didn’t matter. They curled into each other afterwards. Lu-Ten rested his chin on top of her head. “Do you think Izon or Izara will accept the baby as a rider?” He asked.
Yaretzi considered it. “Maybe they will produce an egg that will hatch, yes?” It was possible. She wasn’t sure if Izon and Izara were siblings or mates (perhaps both) but they seemed mature enough to produce offspring. The world outside of their jungle would see dragons overhead once more. “The gods will favor our child, as sure as the sun rises.”
“Of course they will,” Lu-Ten hummed, “or I will face them myself.”
———
The dragons were restless.
Izara grumbled with an agitation that Yaretzi could not soothe even with her calming fire. She flapped her wings within the courtyard, scaring off all who dared approach her save for Yaretzi. The priestess gripped the dragon’s mane, tugging her head down until her lips were pressed against Izara’s ear. “What ails you, spirit sister?”
Izara exhaled tendrils of smoke. Yaretzi turned her eyes skyward. Dragons were exponentially more attuned to the workings of the universe. Citlali’s children were not concerned with the misguided antics of men. The dragon huffed. Her snout pointed in the direction of the hills.
Yaretzi squinted. She could make out the faint glimmer of a sundog where the sunlight rippled against the clouds. It was a trick of the light, a reflection of the invisible ice crystals that hung suspended in the air. Yet still, the hairs on Yaretzi’s arms stood on end. Izara swung her head back and forth. Yaretzi glanced back at the highest balcony on the palace where she had last seen Lu-Ten. Her husband had disappeared from the window. It was no cause for alarm. The Order of the White Lotus occupied much of his time, as well as Zuko’s. The prince had intimate knowledge of the Fire Nation court that would prove vital in the months and years to come. Knowledge that even the Order was not privy to.
The dragon roared.
The sound was nearly deafening from the proximity within which Yaretzi stood. Yaretzi clapped her hands over her ears. Another shriek, this one quieter, alerted her to Izara’s distress. The sky darkened as a red shadow passed overhead. Yaretzi could faintly make out the outline of a man tucked against Izon’s crimson scales. She traced their path with her eyes. They were headed towards the light fracture. Izon had felt the disturbance just as Izara had.
Izon was not so apprehensive. He and Lu-Ten had massacred the men of the Fire Nation outpost. Who was to say that they would not lose themselves in the primal desire to hunt and destroy whatever this strange phenomena was? Yaretzi clutched Izara’s mane and threw her body over the dragon's shoulders. Izara immediately took flight, launching her body into the air with three flaps of her wings. Yaretzi ducked her head against the wind, wordlessly spurring the amaranthine beast faster. Izara clawed at the air. She was faster than Izon and they were closing the distance quickly. Not fast enough.
Izon began to dive.
Izara belched smoke as she tucked her wings against Yaretzi. Peering over the dragon’s sinewy neck, Yaretzi could see Izon and her husband landing in front of a small group. Citlali, great mother, what is this?! The priestess pulled hard on the makeshift reins draped over Izara’s neck. She slowed their descent and the dragon landed gracefully. Yaretzi leapt onto the ground (as much as she was able) and moved quickly to Lu-Ten’s side.
The group that had suddenly and magically appeared from thin air was a queer ragtag combination of nationalities. Most of them were young men with the blue eyes and brown skin of the waterbenders. Yaretzi settled on the two individuals in the center: a Tribesman confined to a wheelchair with a false leg and a young woman who was clearly his sister sagging against him. She spotted an airbender and firebender amongst the rest.
Yaretzi was no fool. The gods had brought them together at last. The chief of the Water Tribe and his sister, the Avatar. They were younger than she expected, no more than sixteen or seventeen, not much younger than her. The young Water Tribe chief had crows’ feet forming in the corners of his eyes. He’s much too young, she thought with pity. The war had taken so much from him in such little time. And from his sister as well. Yaretzi could see the way her young face seemed to sag with a fatigue that sleep would never alleviate. They’re too young. They’re all too young.
She greeted them with the respect befitting their stations. Yaretzi remained silent as the young Chief introduced his entourage. His warriors and the two Earth Kingdom women, one of whom was blind. Yaretzi studied her. She was a child still, perhaps even the same age as Tonauac. At the Avatar’s shoulder stood a handsome man from the eastern Earth Kingdoms. The pale firebender was a defector and the dark skinned Air Nomad owned the hulking six legged white beast that glowered at Izara and Izon. A cervid feline hybrid grumbled deep in its throat.
The Avatar, Katara as she called herself, rested her hand on the creature’s flank. Yaretzi wrung her hands. Straighten your spine, Hodan’s voice hissed, walk into every room like you deserve to be there. Stare every man in the eye until they buckle and blink. And if they refuse then scratch out their eyes. Be a dragon. Be the queen. Letting her hands fall to her sides, Yaretzi tilted her chin. “We will escort you back to SunWatch where suitable accommodations will be provided for you.” There, she thought smugly, Hodan wouldn’t have been able to find a criticism about that.
Tenoch and the other elders were falling over themselves at the unexpected arrival of the Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Yaretzi knew better than to question the intricacies of magic that she didn’t understand. Not magic. It was the work of the Avatar. She would never know the Avatar’s secrets no matter how long she knelt at Citlali’s altar.
All of their pawns in one place, she thought sourly. They had tossed the knuckle dice and struck true. What were the odds of having them all in one place at the same time? The true Fire Lord, the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, the disgraced Crown Prince and the Avatar all sat at the same dining table. The poor steward had nearly ripped his hair out while planning the seating arrangements. Who was the most esteemed guest? Was it right for Lu-Ten to sit at the head of the table or his advisors? And who was to tend to the flying bison and leopard caribou without upsetting the dragons? Izon had been more curious than aggressive while Izara had promptly flown off to dwell in her own solitude.
They had finally settled on having Lu-Ten seated at the head of the table with the Order of the White Lotus flanking him. Yaretzi chose to sit between Lallo and Prince Zuko, across from the Chief Sokka and Katara the Avatar. She attempted a smile.
Zuko and Sokka eyed each other; they were both horrifically injured by the fault of the Phoenix King. Perhaps the madman had not touched Sokka himself, he was still culpable for his injury. Just as he was for Lu-Ten’s brush with death. How many lives had been permanently altered by the man’s actions? How many more?
“It is a surprise to have you amongst us so soon,” Lord Dejen said. “To my understanding, your troops are on the move to join us.” He mirrored Sokka’s nod. “Very good.” His dark eyes slid over to Lu-Ten, his face drawn and somber. “Lady Ishragha, how soon can you begin preparations?”
The Si-Wongi woman rapped her knuckles against the table. Yaretzi had tried her best to be amiable with the elder, but Ishragha of the Tribe of the Oasis of Kujuruai proved abrasive and cold even to Tenoch and Dejen. “As soon as tomorrow if you so wish, my lord. The soon we begin, the better. It will take quite some time.”
The Arakemeti lord waved his hand. “Of course. Lu-Ten will not depart from the peninsula until after his heir is born in any case.”
Lu-Ten straightened his spine. “Correct.” He gazed lovingly at Yaretzi. “And our Fire Lady will not touch foot in the caldera until the palace has been secured. Avatar, how many elements have you mastered?”
Katara looked baffled. “The world only recently discovered I was the Avatar, it’s not like I’ve had much time to practice. Tsephel has been teaching me but I’m nowhere close to being a master. Rojhan has shown me a bit of firebending, but like I said, I’m not even remotely close to using it in battle.”
“When the time comes, we will teach you the true ways of firebending,” Tenoch declared. “You can have no better instructor than Yaretzi.”
Yaretzi startled. “Lord Tenoch, please, I could not...I've never- I would be ill suited to teach the Avatar.” Her mother had taught them all the basics of firebending. Lu-Ten and Lallo had been mentored by the older warriors. Her brother had taught her what he learned over the years until she could hold her own. She looked desperately at Lallo and then back at Katara. “Perhaps Lallo or even your friend Rojhan are better choices.”
“Nonsense,” Lu-Ten interjected. “It would be a great honor for us all. And the Avatar is the divine medium of the world, it would be best for her to learn from a priestess of one of the most powerful gods known to us.” He steepled his fingers. “It’s settled. When the time comes for you to master firebending, the gates of the Fire Nation palace will be open to you.”
The young woman swallowed thickly. There was that glimmer in his eye, the touch of megalomania that reared its ugly head with increasing frequency. Yaretzi wondered if anyone else saw it. Her heart sank. They were all watching him in various phases of disbelief and trepidation. Tenoch looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. Zuko was frowning so deeply that Yaretzi was afraid his face would be permanently creased. The little blind earthbender, Toph Beifong, smirked. “An honor for us all, yes,” Yaretzi repeated and hoped her voice did not quake.
Lallo snatched her elbow as soon as the dinner was over, nearly dragging her into his room. His normally gregarious demeanor was nowhere to be found. Her brother’s features were dark. “He’s going to ruin everything.” He spoke without preamble, gesturing for her to take a seat at the low table in the center of the room. He knelt across from her. “Do you see how they all looked at him?!”
Yaretzi grimaced and fiddled with the tassels on her skirt. “What do you want me to do about it?” The question came out sharper than she intended. “I didn’t think it would happen like this, Lallo. I didn’t think he would come back so…”
“Wrong.” They spoke at the same time.
Lallo sighed. “You know as well as I do what will happen if the Order decides he can’t be controlled.”
And they’ll make me do it. Yaretzi blinked away the tears that had stung her eyes. Would they install Zuko on the throne or their unborn babe? I’ll take my chances and return home. She could not imagine a life of suffering in the Fire Nation court without Lu-Ten. Let Zuko have the crown with his moon-touched wife, she thought. Let them keep it all. She rested a hand over her stomach. The baby kicked against her palm.
Lallo made a sound deep in his throat. He had cut his hair, forgoing the Arakemeti style braids that he had worn for so long. The years away from home had aged him. He had twenty-five summers, like Lu-Ten, but in the shadows of the wood and paper walls, his frown hung heavy on his face. “Before we left, Tuwa made me swear to her that I would fall into the flames or fall on a sword if it meant keeping you safe.” He looked everywhere and nowhere all at once. “That if it all went sideways, then I would bring us back home. You, me, and that baby of yours.” Lallo raised his head suddenly. “We are not made for this world, Yaretzi. Not for their customs and their politics. We are Sun People. We don’t play the games of men and whispers.”
Let us leave the world behind.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Yaretzi stood. “We do what we can. When we can. And then we hope it is enough.”
———
“You should begin considering your bed rest and confinement, my lady.” Lady Sagal knelt across from Yaretzi at the seat that closest overlooked the walls of SunWatch. “There are some weeks yet to go, but some little ones are over-eager to see the world. My middle boy, Kibore, was like that. He came four weeks too early, waking the gods and the household with all that racket.” She took a slow sip of her coffee. “Barasa, on the other hand, was determined to stay in the womb for as long as he could. He would still be hiding under my skirts if he had the chance.”
Yaretzi winced at the sharp kick to her ribs. The baby moved less frequently now yet its kicks and punches proved it was no less spirited. It wouldn’t be long, they said. It seemed that her little one could sense the growing urgency, especially after the arrival of the Omashian army that served Chief Sokka only two weeks before. The land outside of SunWatch was suddenly teeming with earthbenders, a sea of men in green and various animals. It was a city of its own. Even the nights were filled with a cacophony of voices; young men away from home for the first time, thrilled by the wonders of a foreign country and aching for the battles to come. The war ships were being prepared even though they would not sail for months more.
Bishara patted Yaretzi’s knee. “Auntie is right. Lallo and Lord Tenoch already found two trusted midwives. One from Arakem and another from the peninsula.” She, alongside Kimani, Tsigereda, and Emaka, had decorated the palace nursery. Sigei had created stone dragon figures to place by the windows. “We can handle it, you need to rest and prepare for the little prince or princess.”
Tozi leapt into Yaretzi’s lap and purred loudly. She stroked the cat’s spine. It’s not like she had much choice. The council had all but banned her from attending. Every day for hours on end, Lu-Ten, the Chief, the Avatar, and the generals crowded the chambers alongside the Order and Prince Zuko. No room for a pregnant woman, Ishragha had denied her coldly. In her Tribe pregnant women did not listen to talk of bloodshed lest their child come out vengeful and colicky. Yaretzi took to spending her days with her friends, joined by Suki, the Kyoshian woman and the sharp tongued blind girl. Toph Beifong was the youngest of them all, but that didn’t stop her from barreling through the younger earthbenders. Even Sagal and Geljire defeated her only by a hair's breadth. Her earthbending technique was different from the styles that Yaretzi was accustomed to seeing and that left her opponents baffled and scrambling for cover. “It is hard to rest knowing that men will die.”
Lady Sagal hummed. “Men rise and fall like the tides, Lady Dragonkeeper, and they breathe just as they die. But the god of death lives forever.” She set her cup down and rested her hands on her knees.
“The god of death lives forever,” Bishara echoed. “It is what we are taught when we are children training to be soldiers. Death will come for us whether we are old and gray, or if we are young bleeding out on the battlefield. It is an honor to die in service. To your country, to your sovereign, to whatever spirit-god you worship.” With a soft grunt she stood. “Come, if we hold you hostage for too long then that verbose brother of yours will go on a rampage.” She tugged on Yaretzi’s hands.
The halls of SunWatch were innumerable at times. Each corner spilled into a corridor with more rooms with sliding wood doors and paper thin walls. The inner sanctuary was notably more secure. The Lord’s lavish apartments were insulated by stone and few men passed through the inner sanctum. The two young women descended the flight of stairs that returned to the first floor of the main tower, their feet shuffling over the meticulously swept floor. The palace staff cleaned at night, gliding through the halls on their hands and knees, wiping away specks of dust real and imagined. They were cold and clinical and with a twist in her gut Yaretzi remembered that they had been forced to dispose of the men who had died in the conquest.
Including the man who had been burned alive.
It was a horrible gift from Citlali. Yaretzi had never actually tried the macabre technique, but it had come so terrifyingly easy. She would kill for Lu-Ten. But she would burn the world down for the son or daughter that now kicked her ribs.
The breezeway connecting the eastern wing of SunWatch to the western overlooked an open space that perhaps had been an ancestral shrine. Amongst the spring flowers Yaretzi saw the airbender Tsephel sparring with Toph Beifong and the waterbender Mika. She smiled softly to herself.
Their candid sororal peace was interrupted by a clamor of voices rising over each other. It originated from one of the smaller tea rooms where Tenoch and the others of the Order of the White Lotus had their own private assemblies. Yaretzi exchanged a brief glance with Bishara before she quickened her pace. Lu-Ten’s voice rang out to her.
“And you tell us this now?!”
“Prince Zuko, this is grievous news.” Lord Dejen’s voice rattled. “This could mean the war is over before it has even begun.”
It felt as if the room had held its breath. Yaretzi pressed her hand against the sliding door yet she could not bring herself to open it. Lord Dejen was closest, pacing uncharacteristically. “This could damn us all.”
The younger Fire Nationer was to the left of the screen. “My father is almost out of options,” he said, “the blasting jelly is his last gambit. I don’t doubt that he would use it as a last resort before the invasion” He hesitated. “My father…is not a sane man when he is angry. He has burned men. He has raped women. The original plan was to construct the ship and sail to the Northern Water Tribe to force them to bend the knee. It wasn’t finished when I left but if Azula is overseeing the project…” Zuko trailed off.
“The vessel will not sail until it has passed numerous inspections,” Tenoch offered, “perhaps we will have time to launch the invasion of the caldera without jeopardizing too many innocents.” Yaretzi could hear his sharp intake of breath. “Lu-Ten, you must not bring the dragons.”
Yaretzi’s husband snarled wordlessly. “My uncle will face the true might of our army. Izon and Izara will only attack if I order them to.”
A lie, Yaretzi thought. A dragon cannot be controlled by a mere man. Lu-Ten had deceived himself. He flew too close to the sun. A dragon sometimes does not feel the heat of its own flames. She stumbled against the door as it slid open and she fell into Zuko’s unexpecting arms. He held her gingerly. Yaretzi took note of the men in the room. She righted herself. Her skin burned hot under their gazes. Lord Dejen quirked a brow.
Fortunately Tenoch was the first to speak. “Yaretzi, little one, a surprise but never a displeasure.” He was perfectly neutral. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
I am more than a broodmare, she griped silently. “I heard mention of the dragons. There will be time to rest,” Yaretzi answered carefully, “but now we plan for war.” She pushed her way into the room. “Prince Zuko, could you explain this to me fully, yes?”
Zuko reddened and his forlorn features clouded with guilt. “Back before…everything, my father had ordered the Ministry of Development to design a weapon that would make all of our enemies surrender. After years of research and scouring the world for the best engineers and scientists, the Ministry proposed the idea of using blasting jelly. A highly flammable material that can reach the temperatures of dragon’s breath. They engineered a ship that could carry it anywhere in the world and remain stable.” He was staring down at his feet. “My father assigned me to the position of overseer and I excelled at it even after he burned me-”
“So you knowingly had a hand in designing this weapon that was supposed to kill the Water Tribesmen and you kept it a secret from your little water wife,” Lu-Ten drawled. “Aren’t you a selfish little bastard, cousin, bedding your little wife all while knowing you had a hand in her family’s annihilation. The apple can only fall so far from the tree, hm?”
“Lu-Ten,” Tenoch warned, “Prince Zuko was doing his duty. You cannot fault him for being an honorable son.”
Yaretzi grimaced. “And you say that your father might deploy this weapon against us.”
Zuko nodded. “It’s a matter of when.”
Yaretzi’s throat constricted. The older men were grim. Zuko wore an expression that suggested he had no desire other than to sink into the ground. “The Tribesmen are skilled at naval warfare, yes? Perhaps they can create a strategy to intercept the Phoenix King’s weapon.” Deploying the dragons would condemn them to death. She thought of the Water Tribe princess trapped in the Phoenix King’s clutches. If the dragons detonated the ship then the entire caldera would burn. And Princess Yue would perish with them.
Lord Dejen nodded. “It would be wise. Naturally we will discuss it further with the Chief. The real war is on the horizon and we cannot falter. Now more than ever we must be united. Or we all will fall.”
———
Yaretzi gritted her teeth. Her skin had grown so taut over her distended abdomen and her lower back ached so terribly that she slept for respite from the discomfort. During her waking hours she thought only of sleeping and devouring every food in sight before beginning the cycle anew. She had sequestered herself from all except for her brother and Lu-Ten, who had tried to forbid her from flying.
But Izara called to her.
She clung to Izara’s neck as they flew along the coast of SunWatch, far beyond the walls of the citadel and under the shadow of the setting sun. They skirted the coastline, gliding so close over the water that Yaretzi could feel the ocean spray on her face. She flew with Lu-Ten in his better moods and the Air Nomad with her bison at times, all three of them preferring the endless horizon. Tsephel was carefree and gregarious yet also deeply spiritual. She would join Yaretzi and Prince Zuko in their morning meditations, along with the Avatar when she wasn’t attached to her brother. Not today. Yaretzi had chosen to be alone.
Izara skimmed the surface of the water, her tail leaving ripples that remained even after they were long gone. She was at peace, a rare state for the dragon, whose anxious nature always brushed at the back of Yaretzi’s mind. She worried for her spirit sister and her unborn, but had sworn to defend her with fire and talon. The dragon grumbled.
Yaretzi leaned forward to alleviate the cramps that twisted in her stomach. The waves of discomfort started at dawn, growing stronger before fading. She felt a sharp pain in her groin that left her doubled over. It struck her now once more. Yaretzi clenched her legs. A pang coursed through her. She tightened her grip on the reins until her knuckles turned white and her nails left crescent moons in her palms. Phantom pains, Lady Sagal had explained. They became more intense in the weeks before the baby was due. Another jolt flashed through her and Yaretzi arched her back, involuntarily letting out a moan. Izara, sensing her discomposure, brought them higher. Phantom pains, nothing more.
Without warning she became aware of a gush of water between her legs, soaking the thighs of her pants. Yaretzi gasped. No no no no. Her womb constricted, harder this time, and tears sprang to her eyes. She pressed a hand against her belly in a futile attempt to suppress the pressure building within. “Izara,” she choked on her words, “take us back.”
The dragon heard her plea and angled her wings, turning her slender body in the direction of the fortress. Yaretzi dared glance down. Her pants were soiled with blood and fluid and still more came in spurts, accompanied each time by a contraction that left her sweaty and breathless. Yaretzi clung to Izara’s neck and squeezed her eyes shut. Izara trilled as if she was comforting her rider and clawed at the air to accelerate them. She landed clumsily just within the innermost walls that were enclosed by the moat surrounding the main keep. Her rapid descent had caused the onlookers to scatter like ants under the porticos.
Yaretzi slid from Izara’s back. She fell to her knees with her forehead pressed to the stone. Her chest heaved. She was dimly aware of feet crossing over to her. Yaretzi struggled to stand. Her knees buckled. She caught sight of Tsigereda and one of the peninsular natives and lurched towards them. She crashed into Tsigereda’s bewildered arms, unable to find her voice lest she cry out in pain. The Arakemeti woman took note of the wet ruin of Yaretzi’s pants and let out a curse. “The Fire Lady is in labor!” She shrieked as she held Yaretzi upright by her underarms. “The Fire Lady is in labor, help her.”
Citlali, great mother, please.
She wanted Moema. She wanted the familiar women of her homeland who had delivered countless babies before. She wanted her mother.
Guardsmen rushed to their side. “Give her to me,” one of them ordered and scooped Yaretzi in his arms. “Someone alert Lord Lu-Ten!” The older man looked down at her, his yellow eyes wide with alarm. He adjusted his grip, taking off towards one of the entrances of the castle. Tsigereda followed quickly. Yaretzi draped her arms around the guard’s neck and pressed her face against his chest. His beard scratched the top of her head. “Don’t worry, Fire Lady, we’ll be there in minutes.” He ran through the complex arrangement of walls and courtyards, barreling toward one of the smaller buildings. A number of other men and women followed.
At last they arrived in a circular room within one of the towers. Its sterilized scent caused a wave of nausea to come over her. The man set her down on one of the beds. Tsigereda knelt at her side and slid her pants down her legs, tossing them aside before covering her with a sheet. She pried her shirt off. In any other circumstance Yaretzi would have felt embarrassment but she did not register any emotion except for pain. “You’ll be fine, little dragon lady, just breathe. It’ll be fine.”
Yaretzi narrowed her eyes. “Easy to say that, no?”
Her friend chuckled softly. “How do you people say it? You’ll be fine, as sure as the sun rises. I promise.”
A gray haired peninsular woman appeared, accompanied by Bishara and Lady Sagal. The midwife set down a bowl of water and ushered the others out of the room save for Tsigereda and Bishara. “The time has come, my lady.” The woman put her cool hands on Yaretzi’s knees and gently pried them apart. Yaretzi yelped at the sudden intrusion of the woman’s fingers. “I’m seeing how far you’ve opened, dear one, the baby needs room to come out.” She wiped her blood-stained fingers on her apron with a nod of satisfaction. “You are halfway there. It will be some hours yet.”
Bishara pressed her lips to Yaretzi’s forehead and dabbed at her forehead and neck with a cool cloth. “I told Lallo before I came. He’s a wreck. I’m sure he will tell your husband. He was away with Prince Zuko and Chief Sokka.”
“Childbirth and the birthing room is no place for a man.” The midwife grunted. “They’ll only get in the way.” She patted Yaretzi’s hand. “Your body is healthy. You have child-bearing hips. It will be painful but it passes quickly.”
The door opened. The Arakemeti midwife strode inside. She wore similar garb to the peninsular woman and wide spectacles. She set down a bag.
Yaretzi was wracked by another contraction. She let out a keening moan that became a weak scream. “Don’t panic,” the dark skinned midwife said with motherly patience. “Between the two of us we have thirty years of experience. I’ve never lost a babe or mother.” She rocked Yaretzi’s hips from side to side. “Breathe.”
Bishara and Tsigereda breathed deeply, urging Yaretzi to emulate them. She sagged against the pillows. I want Mother, she lamented silently. She had dreamt of giving birth at home- her real home- surrounded by love. Not here in this strange land with these strange people and strange customs. She could hear Izara’s agitation. Mama. She had never referred to Tuwa as Mama after her religious training began. Her mother had become more of a teacher than a parent. Yet now she wanted no one else.
The baby was born at midday, after a morning of Yaretzi’s moaning that progressed into screams the more time passed. As the moment drew closer, the older women had ordered her to stand to make the birth easier. Tohru, the firebender, had caught the baby with a towel, smacking its back vigorously to urge it to cry. A squalling boy, larger than expected, with tufts of black hair plastered to his head. His hearty cries filled the room.
Yaretzi let out a gasp of relief. The four witnesses- Tohru, Bishara, Tsigereda, and Shama- cooed in awe. Shama inspected him. Ten fingers and ten toes, not a defect in sight. After wrapping him in a clean muslin cloth she set the newborn in Yaretzi’s arms. Yaretzi’s heart flooded with a joy and love she could not express as she studied her son. He had a jaw and nose like her own, and his skin tone suggested that he would fall between the two. The rest of him, undoubtedly, was Lu-Ten’s. She smiled down at him. When he opened his eyes momentarily, Yaretzi saw that they were light brown, almost amber in the light. He laid against her bare chest.
“Your husband and brother have been pacing outside for hours.” Lady Tohru’s face brightened with amusement. “I fear they might tear the door down if they have to wait any longer.”
“Let them in,” the young priestess said absently, never looking away from the babe.
Bishara and the others moved to the corner of the room as Lu-Ten and Lallo clamored over each other. They nearly fell after trying to squeeze through the door at the same time. Lu-Ten shoved his brother-by-law aside before crouching at the bedside.
Lu-Ten craned his neck to peer down at his son, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. Yaretzi passed the newborn to her husband, throwing herself back against the pillows in exhaustion.
Lu-Ten sobbed as he held the infant close to his chest, pressing his cheek against the baby’s and shaking his head back and forth. Yaretzi, despite her fatigue and the lingering pain, found herself smiling. “He’s perfect,” her husband sniffled, “he’s perfect, he’s perfect.” His voice cracked and his shoulders shook. “Yaretzi, he’s perfect,”
Lallo drew closer to see his nephew. His face softened. “Ah well, I suppose that all the yodeling was worth it. And his name?”
Yaretzi looked expectantly at her husband. Lu-Ten caressed the baby’s tiny cheek with a finger. “Sozin,” he declared.
She did not miss the collective intake of breath from the others.
“Sozin of the Sun Warriors.” Lallo tested the name. “Prince Sozin. Fair enough I suppose. I figured you would have called him Iroh after your father. Or Lallo, like the most magnificent uncle ever.” He held out his arms and Lu-Ten reluctantly relinquished him. Lallo cradled his nephew, gently rocking him. “You’re destined for great things, nephew. How many children can say they were born under the protection of two dragons? You’ll be a king, as sure as the sun rises.” He covertly wiped the corners of his eyelids before dipping his head to kiss the baby’s soft forehead. “You’ve got a whole slew of aunts and uncles, you know, but Uncle Lallo will be your favorite. When you’re a king, make sure you give me a nice chunk of land and gold. Preferably beachfront property.” The baby smacked his lips, turning his head one way and then the other. “Ah, hungry already. Here, go to your mother then.”
Yaretzi held out her arms to accept him.
“Ah, ah, out out!” Shama waved her hands. “The lady must learn how to nurse him.” She chased Lallo and the Arakemeti warriors back into the hall. “You as well, Your Grace.”
Lu-Ten stiffened. “I will not,” he asserted. Both of the midwives knew better than to argue. He took a seat in a corner, never looking away from Yaretzi and their son. “I will wait.”
He would not settle for anything else, Yaretzi knew. He was recalcitrant, alarmingly so at times. No matter. He had seen her in every state. With unsure hands she followed Tohru’s instruction and squeaked as the baby began to nurse. He tired quickly, falling asleep at her breast. She held him close.
Lu-Ten stood over them. “I will destroy the world and create it anew for you, my love. You shall want for nothing.” Lu-Ten stroked Sozin’s downy hair. “I will clear every rock in your path no matter how large. I promise.” He kissed Yaretzi. “I love you. More than I can ever express. I love you.”
After a few hours, Shama and Tohru finally allowed others to come. Tenoch was first, shadowed by Prince Zuko. The young man eyed the baby curiously, gradually relaxing as he watched the newborn sleep. “He’s so small,” he remarked. “Congratulations.”
“All newborns are small, my prince.” Tenoch chuckled.
Zuko was hesitant as Yaretzi offered his cousin to him. He took the baby gingerly, unsure on how to hold his newest relative. Tenoch, well familiar with babies, adjusted his hands. “I’ve never held a baby before,” he admitted sheepishly. “And you named him Sozin. Why?”
Lu-Ten bristled. “My son is the beginning of a new dynasty. He will be greater than us all. What better name than our predecessor who began it all? We will begin anew. No star has even shone so bright.” At Tenoch’s warning look he relaxed. “He will rectify what went wrong.”
“Let him be a child,” Tenoch said. “Just as you all were allowed to be children. He is the future. He is peace.”
“And now we begin for war.” Zuko stared at them all before adjusting baby Sozin in his hands.
Tenoch nodded solemnly. “And now we begin for war.”
Yaretzi let out a silent prayer to the Mother of Dragons. The Fire Nation will truly burn. And please, Great Mother, don’t let us burn with it.
Chapter 59: Whatever May Come
Chapter Text
Yue
‘There is love,’ Lady Maiko had said, ‘and then there is power. You may have one but not the other.’
She was wrong, Yue thought as she sat in front of the schoolchildren. These children love me. These people love me. The adoration of the common people had become her shield and armor. Their chanting of her name in the streets had become her sword. Yue stroked little Yohan’s head. I may not be a bender or a warrior, but power is power.
Power is power.
“Can you read us another story, Princess Yue?” Another of the caldera’s children pleaded. “Please?”
The white haired princess flashed her most brilliant smile. From the corner of her eye she could see the guardsmen shift. “Of course,” she sang. “But I must go soon.” The other children had gathered around Tui, stroking her fur and scratching her ears. She pulled Yohan into her lap, mindful of her wrist. The splint had been removed but it was still tender at times. It ached whenever it stormed. “What do you want to hear?”
“I wanna hear about how the warlords killed each other!” Yaeko exclaimed. Yue hid her grimace.
“Ooh I know, I know!” Young Asami flapped her arms. “The Butterfly Princess and the Dragon! Please please please!” She was joined by a chorus of the rest of the little girls. The boys groaned.
Yue hummed. “I’m not familiar with that one, little flower. We don’t have that book where I’m from. Do you want to recite it for me?”
Asami flushed red. “Once upon a time,” she lisped, “a long long time ago, there was a princess named Tsukiko. She was the only daughter of the warlord Tsuyoshi and she was so special that he didn’t want her to marry anyone. He kept her in a tower with one window that faced the ocean.” The nine-year-old inhaled as she continued. “But when she got older, she didn’t want to be trapped anymore. One day Tsukiko saw a beautiful blue butterfly flying around her window.”
Yue listened absently with a thin smile. Two-year-old Chimata had crawled into her lap with her thumb in her mouth. I’m being dog-piled by children, she thought. She caught sight of Lady Akeri in the corner. The gray-haired woman dipped her head in acknowledgment.
“…and after Tsukiko traded places with the butterfly, she flew all the way across the big islands until she met a dragon! And the dragon’s name was Raikki but he was really a cursed prince!” Asami buzzed on.
After what felt like hours the little girl concluded her story. Yue snapped herself out of her reverie and applauded her. “You have a voice like bells, Asami, you should be a poet when you’re older.” Yue nudged Yohan off of her and grunted as she stood up with the slumbering babe. Chimata had fallen into a deep sleep. “Mayhaps we can all practice writing poetry next time.” The white-haired princess handed Chimata to Lady Akeri. “But now I must leave, for true this time.”
All ten of them clustered around her legs, each trying to touch her hands or the delicate cloth of her qi-pao. She had chosen one with golden flowers on a deep red fabric and had polished her crown. Yue pressed kisses to each of their foreheads. She turned to her armored escorts. Yue allowed them to surround her and guide her towards the waiting litter.
Lord Tzumoro was waiting for her. He stood beside the litter bearers, offering his hand to assist her. After her escape attempt, he had taken it upon himself to escort her to all of her engagements or he ordered one of his personal cronies to do so. His eyes were sagging and tired. He often grumbled to her that he was running to an early grave. (So be it, she thought, let him keel over.) Tzumoro wore dark brown and black armor, quite different from his usual warmer toned robes. He took a seat across from her.
Yue folded her hands in her lap. The litter was raised from the ground and they departed from the orphanage. She crossed her legs and waited for the man to speak.
Lord Tzumoro looked everywhere but at her. He peered through the wire screen of the litter’s window. He had celebrated the birth of his son recently, only a week ago if her memory served her correctly. Yue could only recall seeing his wife once. His daughter shadowed him more frequently. For ten years his daughter had been an only child. And now a son will usurp her light. What was hers will become his.
“How does the babe fare?” Yue broke the silence. “What’s his name again? I’ve forgotten.”
The older man turned to face her. His lips were downturned. “Rokuro,” he answered shortly. “After my wife’s father.”
Yue tapped her fingers against her thigh. “Rokuro.” She would make a note to send an appropriate gift. “What have you heard?”
Tzumoro sighed. They rode on in silence for moments more. “The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and the Avatar have allied themselves with Lu-Ten at SunWatch. They now have an army of thirty thousand earthbenders and the entire peninsular militia under their command.” The corner of his lip twitched the only indication that anything was amiss. “It will only be a matter of time before they are on our shores. It will be in the hands of the gods by then if the people are on our side.”
Of course.
Ozai had burned a man.
The stench of burnt flesh remained in Yue’s nostrils and her stomach curdled at the thought of cooked meat. He was a traitor, an informant for Lu-Ten’s cause, and had whispered too loudly. The sight of the man, gray haired and weak, kowtowing before the Phoenix King was forever imprinted in her mind. He had pleaded and begged, kissing his sovereign’s feet just as Ursa and Zuko did, and then he had gone up in flame. All that remained of him was an oily spot where he had fallen. The noble families of the court had responded with repulsion. What was to stop the Phoenix King from suddenly deciding that they, too, deserved such a fate? The Phoenix Queen had guided his hand and stifled his innate cruelty for two decades and in her absence, there was no buffer to protect them. Mai’s family had withdrawn completely, absconding to their ancestral island, their prospects of gaining Prince Zuko’s hand shattered completely after his disappearance. Ty-Lee would soon join her soon-to-be husband. Azula, without friends, had once again dragged Yue to her side.
But I am stronger now. I am older. Azula could no longer bully and belittle her, not when she was one of the few anchors that kept the forsaken dynasty afloat.
“It would be wise to surrender,” Yue sang and smirked. “But you know just as well as I do, my lord, that my father-by-law would rather put us all to the torch before he knelt to his nephew.”
Lord Tzumoro snorted derisively but did not reply.
“Will you send your wife and children away when the day comes?” Yue asked. It was a genuine question. As slithery as Tzumoro was, she had seen the joy that revitalized him when he was with his wife and daughter. She could not imagine he would leave them in harm's way. “I have heard rumors that the navy wants to petition for Zhao’s reinstatement. Or at least put him under Yon-Rha or Chan the Elder.”
“Absolute drivel. If Zhao dared show his face then he would have no choice but to fall on his sword. He had few friends here as it is.” Tzumoro upturned his nose in distaste. “Let him remain the disgraced drunkard that he has always been. His only claim to glory was the Chief’s assassination and he bungled that.” He stroked his beard. “I never imagined that I would be here discussing Fire Nation politics with a child. A Water Tribeswoman at that.”
Yue rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, I never imagined I would be trapped in the Fire Nation married to the son of the man who raped me.” There was that word again. It did not sting so much, not anymore. It was an unfortunate truth, yet another grievance that she would forever hold against them. “But here we are. You came to me, remember?”
Lord Tzumoro grunted as they arrived at the palace gates. “How could I ever forget?” He exited first and allowed Yue to hold his forearm. A group of servants scuttled to attend to them.
The Tribeswoman nodded curtly. “Lord Tzumoro.” She called out as he walked away from her. “Do you have faith in me?”
For a long moment the pale eyed advisor studied her. She could see the strange way his thoughts flickered across his face, the way his expression seemed to open and close as he hid away his true thoughts. His countenance slid into cool neutrality. “You are a bright young woman, Princess.” He answered.
Then we must remain as allies. “Then you must trust that I am my late Lady Mother’s daughter.” I am what they made me, she thought. In this game you win or you die.
Her façade vanished as soon as the doors of her private rooms closed behind her. Yue tore the tiara from her hair, wincing as a few white strands came free, and tossed it on the vanity. With a practiced tug she pulled her hair down from the topknot. It tumbled down her shoulders, gleaming like moonlight, and she massaged her scalp. Her slippers flew in the corner. Yue padded across the room and laid on the bed that had long since grown cold. The dark ceiling spun overhead. A wave of exhaustion struck her. When did it end?
Azula was on one of the nameless little islands within less than an hour’s ferry ride from the capital city. The Project, the horrendous construction of the war vessel, was complete but her duties had not ended. Yue was not sure what exactly Azula was doing (nor did she offer any explanation) but it left her even more ornery and suspicious than usual. She had also begun to sense the changing tides. Most likely she would return just before nightfall, which left Yue with some hours to herself.
Having regained some fortitude, Yue undressed and ran herself a bath. She sank into the water with a sigh of relief. She became Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, not Yue the Jewel of the Fire Nation. Leaning her head back she tried to imagine Zuko. But his image had been sullied by the knowledge of his involvement in the creation of the horrific weapon that was moored on another island not far away. A chill ran down her spine despite the warmth of the water. She had not seen the ship herself but since its completion Azula spoke more openly of it. The engineers had been executed to protect the darkest secrets.
Her breath hitched at the sound of the door opening. Yue rose slowly, reaching for her towel and bathrobe. Tui growled.
“Call down your mutt.” Azula hissed.
Yue bit back her frustration. I can’t escape her. She dried off quickly, finding Azula pacing the room where Zuko’s dual swords remained. “She’s only doing what she’s been trained to do,” she retorted. “Especially such an unwelcome intrusion.”
Azula rolled her eyes. “Yet another day of your philanthropy. Do you ever get tired of mingling with those peasants?”
Mingling with those peasants is the only thing keeping you in power. Yue mused sardonically. She offered no response. “You came back early.”
“I don’t meander about like Zuko,” her sister-by-law spat. “There is to be an assembly of the Council of Public Affairs tomorrow. For some reason they invited you to attend.” Azula reached for one of the swords and removed it from the hook with an expert swing. Yue stumbled back. The younger woman smirked. “What? You didn’t think that we were both taught weaponry? My father was painstakingly meticulous when he trained us. I preferred the naginata, of course, if there ever came a time when I couldn’t firebend.”
Yue had seen Azula wield the polearm with devastating proficiency. All noblewomen were trained to use the naginata; even she had gained a rudimentary ability to swing the polearm although she knew she would never gain the mastery that the native women possessed. “Why would they want me?”
Azula shrugged. “Because you dance to their pretty little songs and smile when they tell you to.”
They faced each other. “You did tell me to be something,” Yue said and Azula faltered for a heartbeat.
“Do you fear death?”
Yue hesitated at the princess’s non-sequitur. She realized that Azula was staring through her. Her eyes were hard. Was she seeing her mother and brother, or the destruction on the horizon? Did her mind linger on the war to come? Yue wrung her hands before forcing her nerves to settle. “How worse could it be? What else can be done to me that hasn’t been done already?”
The amber eyed woman crossed the distance. For the first time her mask had fallen, finally revealing the fractured girl that had cloaked herself in cruelty and malice. “If it comes and I am cornered…” Azula bared her teeth and cleared her throat. “Do it.”
“Do what-” Yue froze. She’s serious. Why should I? “I will.” She broke the silence. “I will.”
Once more Azula became the Phoenix Princess. “Try not to blunder too much, if you don’t mind.”
When the assembly began the next day, Yue found herself once again at Azula’s side. Azula was dressed in her full regalia, complete with a blood red cuirass and shin guards. Together they posed the dichotomy of Fire Nation femininity. Yue wore a gown reminiscent of a kimono made black silk shot with orange darts and tied in place by a vibrant orange and white sash. The chamber servant announced their entrance as the doors of the audience room were opened. Azula strode forward, her head held high as she took her seat of honor at the head of the table. Yue sat inconspicuously to her left. She was, by law, just as much a daughter of the Fire Nation as Azula. Lord Tzumoro watched them with scrutiny, quickly looking away when Azula pierced him with her leonine gaze.
“Princesses, I am most grateful that you were both able to join us.” Lord Jeon-zhei was reed thin with a voice that did not match his slender frame. He inclined his head in their direction and the tassels on his decorative cap swung one way and then the other. “We have called this meeting to discuss the current state of affairs. Lord Haruto, would you please begin?”
Lord Haruto of the clan of the Lion-horse wasn’t much older than Yue. He shared the same yellow-gray eyes as Tzumoro, no doubt a distant relative, (as if one wasn’t enough), and unlike the rest of the men he was an army officer. “Recruitment is at an all time low. There hasn’t been much incentive to enlist.” He rested his hands on his knees. “Even less in the far-reach islands.”
Azula waved her hand dismissively. “That is an easy solution and a complete waste of the Council’s time. I will speak to my father about conscription.”
“Princess Azula, if I may. That is the problem, Your Grace. We can force men to enlist, but they will not have the vigor and loyalty of true believers.” Haruto lowered his head. “On the other hand, women are now more inclined to join the army since the announcement of your Acolytes. Mayhaps we could promote that image.” The young man continued.
The Tribeswoman could sense the disquiet in the room. It was evident in the way they shifted in their seats and tugged at their collars as if it was suddenly too hot. She laced her fingers together. Look at them squirming and writhing like worms. Ducking for cover to save their own hides. She smiled prettily at the appropriate intervals and demurely offered her input. Azula dominated the conversation, just like every other aspect of life, and cowed the argumentative Lord Keuun with a barb that left the room wincing.
‘How can you expect to play the long game when you’re not even a player?’
Yue hid her smirk.
She slipped out of the chamber before everyone else, gliding through the corridors of the inner sanctum. They paid her little mind. The buzzing in her head grew to a fever pitch until she could focus on nothing else. Yue clenched her teeth. It was an uncertain ploy, she knew. Lady Maiko had instilled the seeds in her mind and Yue was determined to cultivate it.
The beauty of the Fire Nation palace had always struck her as a sadistic joke of the gods. The peristyles and gardens and sky wells did not suit the nature of the dynasty that resided within. Perhaps its original inhabitants had been cut from a different cloth. She passed through the enclosed open spaces and skirted the corners, coming upon the Shrine of the Sacred Ancestors. Zuko had shown it to her before and even now it took her breath away.
The cloister predated the House of Sozin by centuries. The columns were crafted from red-streaked marble from which hung blooming vines that wrapped around the stone and crept over the ground. The shrine was raised on black stone and upon it was a statue of a woman holding the sun. At her feet were cherubic children prostrating before her in supplication. A niche revealed the true entrance of the crypts that held the predecessors of the nation.
Yue moved slowly down the steps into the vault. It grew cooler with each step that drew her closer into the belly of the crypt. The ceiling transformed into high arches. The quiet was unsettling. Her footsteps echoed. Within the niches in the walls were tiny figurines: effigies of the dead and venerated. Her path was lit only by lanterns set twenty feet apart.
Her breath appeared in white clouds. In that moment she wished she was a firebender or waterbender that could regulate their body temperature. Yue tucked her arms into her sleeves.
There sat the Phoenix King, kneeling in front of the statue of one of his ancestors. His back was turned. Yue stopped ten feet from him in the shadows of the torch.
“I would not expect you to seek out my presence. Least of all here.” His voice was low. “Perhaps your newfound popularity amongst the lower classes has emboldened you.” Ozai slid to his feet and turned to face her. It was the first time she had seen him in weeks. Their paths never crossed.
Yue swallowed. “Perhaps, Your Grace.” She lifted her head. He was intrigued in the way that a cat was amused by a mouse. Despite his rigid stature, she could tell that he found her approach humorous. Play the long game. “Prince Zuko brought me here once.”
Ozai quirked a brow. “My weakling of a son was well-versed in history; I will give him that. But that does not explain why you have come.” He took a step closer.
She did not balk at his sudden proximity. I am afraid. But if I show fear then I will fail. “Throughout the centuries of bloodshed, there must be at least one of your ancestors who faced a similar adversary. Civil wars are not uncommon amongst great houses.” Yue exhaled. “Perhaps I wanted to offer you greater assistance. As you’ve said, the public opinion of me is quite high. Should I not also exalt my king and father-by-law?” Play the long game, no matter what pawns and tricks you have to use. What better way to slay the monster than to catch him unawares? What better way to break him than to manipulate him? His wife had done it for decades. She held his stare.
“The adoration of the sheep has never been of consequence to me.” Ozai moved to brush her aside and Yue sidestepped to remain in front of him. The man froze. His eyes, puzzled, flickered over her face.
Yue flashed a smile. “What is it, my lord? Do you prefer me screaming and resisting whilst you pin me down? Or should I fashion my hair like your late wife’s, so her ghost won’t haunt you?” Yue leaned forward. He was taller than her, striking an even more imposing figure in his armor, his features carefully stoic. Yue danced on a thin line. If she made one reckless mistake, then her life would be forfeit. “Or do you only desire a woman when the bloodlust can’t be satiated?”
Ozai’s nostrils flared.
I’ve overstepped.
It was he who retreated. Yue suppressed a laugh. He was afraid of forward women. He preferred them vulnerable. She did not aim to truly seduce him. Yue would slit her own throat before she allowed him to touch her. She swallowed the bile roiling in her throat. He was a man. A brute dressed in silk but a man regardless.
For an ephemeral second Ozai was taken aback. His countenance shifted into that same curious expression, a mix of physical interest and repulsion that battled for dominance. He would break her wrist again if she tried to touch him. (She was not so bold.) “I know every poison that my wife ever used. You cannot slip widow’s tears into my tea, no matter what whore told you otherwise.” He chuckled, twirling a strand of her hair before roughly pushing her out of his way. “You foolish girl.”
“You didn’t answer my question, my lord.”
Ozai laughed with acidic derision. “Don’t flatter yourself, girl. You live only because I allow it.”
“Of course,” Yue cooed, “my lord is most gracious.”
On the morning of a day two weeks later, they were called to the coast.
The uni-horses and komodo-rhinos plodded through the streets. “Morale amongst the Pretender’s supporters is higher than ever, despite his atrocities. Word has spread from the peninsular traders that his wife has given birth to a son.”
Yue chanced a glimpse at Azula. Her spine had gone rigid. She sat atop her black uni-horse as they trotted toward the wharf. Lord Haruto, who had spoken, had his back to them. If he turned then he would have seen Azula throwing a dark glare in his direction, as if he was somehow responsible for Prince Lu-Ten’s recent joy. An heir for the Prince would help solidify his claim. His contenders had dwindled. The same merchants had confirmed that Prince Zuko was now in his cousin’s ranks.
Zuko.
Yue had already known long before. Maiko had divulged the truth to her before Yue tried to escape. To the rest of the palace, however, the time between Tzumoro and Ursa smuggling him out of the capital and into his cousin’s camp was unclear. Yue cleverly theorized that his mother had paid someone to carry him from the caldera. Azula had been taciturn and undemonstrative at the news. Of course. Any show of emotion would suggest that she sided with her brother (and by association) with her cousin. Her father would perceive it as a betrayal.
The spirit-gods frowned upon no war more than that between kin.
And the House of Sozin had been at war with itself for decades.
The salt spray reminded Yue of her arrival to the island so long ago. She recalled the flaming Gates of Azulon and wondered how they would look to Prince Lu-Ten, who had been raised to covet a throne he had never seen. Would he feel an instant connection to his ancestral home? Would his dragons soar overhead as they passed under his grandfather’s statue?
Stationed out at sea, just beyond the shores of the capital island, was the fruition of Ozai’s greatest aspirations. Yue’s breath hitched. She had seen the drawings, but nothing could have prepared her for such an immense vessel. The warship, christened the Fire God’s Prophet, loomed over the horizon. It was crafted from black steel with a complete deck that was thrice the length of any ship that Yue had seen. It was flanked by several smaller cruisers as an armed escort. The Fire Nation banner danced in the wind. Had it not been a harbinger of genocide, Yue would have admired it and the ingenuity poured into its construction. It did not yet hold the twelve tons of blasting jelly and ammunition out of caution. Not a single firebender was allowed aboard without leather gloves.
“There’s never been anything like it,” Azula said. Had she been a lesser woman she would have been in awe. “And there will be no other. Every chemist and engineer was executed to make sure the designs never left the Fire Nation.”
Lord Haruto nodded. Yue analyzed his side profile. He was adequately handsome, not nearly as striking as Azula and her kin, but she could see why Tzumoro was covertly urging a betrothal between the two. Azula was long due to be engaged. Lord Haruto might not be from one of the highest-ranking families, but he was accomplished and acceptably well-bred. Azula had not shown much dissatisfaction nor enthusiasm. “Truly. The pinnacle of Fire Nationer innovation.” He clicked his tongue to urge his komodo-rhino on. “The Fire God’s Prophet is yours to command, Princess Azula. Say the word and they will sail.”
The firebender remained silent. That was her way. Azula, except in rare instances, was unreadable. She was the best and worst of her parents. Her knuckles curled around the leather reins. “Lu-Ten will stay put for months more while his wife nurses his spawn. They will launch from the peninsula. A naval blockade will stall them, but it will starve our city. There will be a siege that could last for weeks.” Azula smirked. “Let them come. My father has given me approval to deploy half of the Acolytes. They will leave in a week’s time. I will accompany them to the outer islands.”
Yue flinched. She’s leaving? While it had been mentioned, Yue had not truly expected…Azula was a cold but constant presence. She could not imagine the palace halls without her. If Azula sensed her discomfiture then she did not acknowledge it. She quickly schooled her features.
“Very good,” the young man replied.
“What exactly do you plan to do?” Yue inquired.
Azula’s lip ticked upward. “Kill my cousin.”
Yue quivered. “And what about Zuko?”
The Fire Nation princess adjusted herself in the saddle. “Whatever needs to be done,” she answered before snapping the reins, leaving Yue (once more) behind.
———-
Azula and five of her chosen elite, young women from high-standing families, presented themselves before the Fire Sages and the Phoenix King in full regalia. Azula stood proudly in her gleaming black and red breastplate, a raptor-shaped helm tucked under her arm. To her left was Ty-Lee, recalled from her courtship, and even Mai could not resist the scroll demanding her immediate return to the capital. The other three were girls that Yue had seen only in passing.
Yue watched from the furthest corner of the courtyard as the newly-appointed chief Fire Sage petitioned for the spirit-gods to show favor not only on the Acolytes but on the Fire Nation as a whole. Bless them in these dark times, he pleaded, and let the spirit of truth and justice prevail. Let the Phoenix King reign long and peacefully after such trying times.
Whose truth? Whose justice? Yue harrumphed.
Like father, like daughter, Azula was captivating in her armor. Each piece was carefully arranged. Her breastplate covered her black tunic and her wrists donned red gauntlets. She dropped to one knee. The Fire Sage anointed her forehead. Yue did not miss her brief scowl.
Ozai came forward. “My daughter,” he said, “you make the Fire Nation proud. Bring me your cousin’s head and I shall make you the official heir to not only the Fire Nation, but all the colonies present and in the future.” He beckoned for her to rise. “You will be the Phoenix Queen and I…I will be a god.”
With steady hands and stately concentration he set Azula’s helm atop her head. The phoenix wings framed her face. She looked like a war god, Yue remarked , and the Acolytes were her vengeful disciples. Each of them were equipped with throwing knives and long-bladed glaives. They had survived Azula’s grueling training and relentless exercises- perhaps they had also acquired a taste for blood. Azula faced the palace staff and the War Ministry. Her countenance betrayed nothing.
Yue caught her eye as they mounted their uni-horses. The only sound was that of their hooves. Yue wanted to say everything and nothing at all. She observed as the gates closed behind the princess and her entourage, leaving her alone in the decadent prison, and she only blinked when Azula was out of sight.
In Azula’s absence the palace felt much larger.
Cavernous, even. The corridors were now unfamiliar. Before Yue and Tui might have wandered them like ghosts, but her current preoccupation had quickly become an obsession. Azula’s departure had sparked a fervor and desperation to see her plans come to fruition. She could not move with haste, however. The strongest trees were the ones tended with patience and care. Yue sang and chirped and the Fire Nation’s downtrodden continued to grovel at her feet.
Without Azula, Yue and the Phoenix King orbited each other. Yue found it both pitiful and amusing that such a powerful man was thrown off-kilter by the company of the young woman he had brutalized. She turned her efforts into a sort of game: how many times could she ‘coincidentally’ stumble upon him? How many times could she by chance be in the same place at the same time, perched like a sparrowkeet, beaming and beautiful?
Tzumoro eyed her curiously.
The palace staff crept about with uncertainty. They had seen the fate of Ikem and the dissenters. Maya was the only woman in Yue’s retinue privy to her plan, serving as the liaison between the white-haired princess and the Phoenix King’s closest confidant. She had her doubts even though she did not voice them. Maya had once been in the pay of the Phoenix Queen and later to Lord Tzumoro, who was she to involve herself in the plots and schemes of nobility?
Yue entered the sitting room where the Fire Nation sovereign met with the members of the Ministry of Public Affairs. Their meeting was adjourned until the later afternoon, although Yue knew she would find him still. She had checked the library, where the man often hid amongst his books and scrolls, having assumed that he had delegated the assembly to Lord Tzumoro.
Wordlessly she shuffled across the space, taking a place at the end of the table after offering a perfected curtsy. Yue knelt at the man’s side and kept her eyes downcast. She ducked her head to conceal her grin. “Your Grace,” she said, “I hope you will forgive my intrusion.” Her heart raced. Revenge is sweeter than fear.
Ozai lifted an eyebrow. “I have not punished your audacity thus far.”
“For which I am most grateful, Your Majesty.” Yue murmured obsequiously. “As you know, I have taken our deceased queen’s initiative in maintaining a positive relationship with both the highborn and lower classes. I hope I have pleased you.” His forehead creased and Yue barreled on. “Our rapport is so strong that they speak freely to me. Perhaps too freely.” She lifted her head and locked eyes with him. “Princess Azula fights the war against the Pretender but another one brews.”
She took his silence as an indication to continue. “It's Lady Mei-hua, Your Grace, the wife of Lord Ziryu of the house of the robin-rats. She mentioned to me that her husband intends to relinquish their holdings here in the capital and Ember Island and seek out a property on the Estival Peninsula.” Yue put a hand over her heart. “Lord Ziryu is displeased with the taxes levied on his estate and suggests that he would prosper more under the reign of the Traitor Iroh’s son. She says that he even sent a messenger hawk to a broker in Tosoura in the unclaimed lands.”
Ozai pinched her chin between his fingers and dragged her to her feet. The man glared at her, searching her countenance for a hint of deception. “If you lie then I will have your tongue.”
Yue shook her head free, grasping his wrist, her eyes wide and beseeching. “I am your most loyal servant, Lord Father, would I have told you otherwise?” I am sorry, Lady Mei-hua. Some casualties are inevitable.
It came to no surprise when Lord Ziryu was dragged to trial for the alleged crime of clandestine real estate dealings and sharing information with the enemy. He was the first of several. Seditionists and informants, it was said. Twelve noblemen hanged and six more killed by fire. Their wives either killed with them or left ostracized and penniless, forever branded as traitors and conspirators intending to sow dissent and division. Gardens are where women fight their battles. Flowers are watered with blood. Their crimes were not completely unfounded, Yue justified. They had expressed discontent and frustration at the current state of affairs. They had suggested that their husbands were increasingly wary of the Phoenix King. Mayhaps the lost prince would be better, if even by an inkling. He might have massacred a squadron of men, but he hadn’t disfigured his own son’s face and killed his wife.
She never strayed far from the king, becoming his white haired shadow along with Tui. The polar dog trailed her mistress with trepidation, perhaps questioning the extent of her own loyalties, but remained steadfast nonetheless. She recited poetry and history, drawing from her hurriedly acquired knowledge of his predecessors. She danced around the theory of the Harmonic Convergence, his ultimate goal that necessitated her sacrifice. It will not come to pass, she swore. Ozai was more humored by her performance than anything else. Yue half-expected him to pat her on the head or scratch her under the chin like an obedient dog.
Yue was no fool. She did not miss the glint in his eye, the way he contemplated her appearance almost reluctantly. It terrified her and empowered her all at once. A man was a man, and a man was easy to manipulate when his mind was clouded by lust. Her machinations had kept his anger abated and she knew she was safe. At night, when she bathed, Yue felt a twinge of guilt in her belly. What would her parents think if they could see her now, tempting the enemy to stall for time? What would Zuko think? What kind of woman had she become, sacrificing others to turn the masses against Ozai? Where was the honor in that?
Lady Maiko’s voice finally registered and Yue snapped to attention with a flustered shake of her head. The elderly woman regarded her from the other side of the table where they shared a kettle of tea. “You are a courageous young woman,” she repeated, cognizant that Yue had not heard her. “Prodding the beast so brazenly.” She tapped her foot. “They are beginning to hate him.”
“As they should,” Yue huffed. “By the time Prince Lu-Ten comes they will be opening the gates.” Tui curled at her feet, basking in the midday sun. Yue snapped her fan open, holding it close to her face. Azula had yet to return, which meant that the Fire Nation army was continuing to stall. The dragon prince had not yet sailed.
“And where will you stand?” The widow tilted her head. “How do you intend to prove your innocence to Prince Lu-Ten when he comes to claim his throne?”
The northerner paused. “The same way you and your husband managed to evade the noose for twenty years, my lady. Zuko knows my heart. He would…” her words suddenly were behind her lips. Yue coughed into her hand. “He would protect me.” He always has. Since the day she arrived. She did not love Zuko but she missed him all the same. He was her friend. And perhaps…perhaps a small hidden part of her wished that he was more. Not bonded by trauma but by the resilient (hopeful) seed of something greater.
Lady Maiko’s smile was slow and sad. “My beloved husband protected me and the children until the end.” Maiko pointed to the lavender tree on the far side of the patio. “Takuma used to call me his Lady of Lavender and every year he gifted me a wreath of fire lilies and the most perfect purple flowers you could imagine.” Her body relaxed and her voice grew wistful. “Such a love is rare. When you find it, you must cherish it with all your heart. You must fight to defend it, even after your second half is long gone.” Her wrinkled hand hovered over Yue’s, turning it over until her palm was upturned. Within it she pressed a white coin. “Oh, Princess, you don’t deserve a life such as this.”
Yue turned the coin over and over between her fingers. On one side was a lotus, on the other was the symbol of the Water Tribes. “Deserve…I’ve grown to hate that word. Who deserves anything? Whether it be crowns or happiness or justice or love, how do the spirit-gods determine who gets what? Do they flip a coin and laugh at the poor man’s fate?” Her laugh was bitter. “I used to think that the spirit-god Tui favored me because she revived me. That my parents deserved to know love rather than grief. But if the same gods that gave me life are the same ones that allow Ozai to live, then they are not merciful at all.”
Lady Maiko leaned forward until her lips brushed against the shell of Yue’s ear. “How far would you go, Princess Yue, to see your enemies fall? Have you never imagined yourself on the Fire Nation’s throne?”
For an infinite moment Yue could not find the words. She twirled the coin once and once again unconsciously until her fingers memorized each ridge and chink in the metal. The world suddenly seemed too bright. The songbirds were too loud. The lingering taste of the blueberry sweetbread was too sour. Her thoughts were replaced by a hive of warring bees and their stings brought tears to her eyes. Yue was aware of Maiko still watching her. I don’t want that cursed crown. I want nothing to do with this place. Let Lu-Ten have it. Part of her wanted to ask the old woman about the coin, but the other half was immorally apathetic. Lady Maiko had been undetected for decades by doing the same thing. Why should Yue care about the connections she had made? It wouldn’t matter in the end. The only thing that mattered was ensuring that Ozai burned his bridges and turned everyone against him. “How far would you go, Lady Maiko, to see your wish fulfilled?”
The widow had turned her attention elsewhere, drawn to the past where she had been young and carefree. “I’ve done all I can, Princess. The time has come for me to pass the torch to another, brighter star. We both know how this will end.”
Yue clenched her teeth before strengthening her resolve. As she stood, she bowed deeply. “Goodbye, Lady Maiko.”
———
Yue rose with the sun.
She was no firebender, but the habit had grown on her. She greeted the dawn by standing in the window or outside in the Sunrise Garden. The dew on the plants sparkled and the damp breeze placed gossamer kisses on her skin. In the gray hours she practiced in the yards with a polearm or chi-blocking on an unfortunate mannequin. Tui hopped and pranced around her, yapping gleefully as her mistress chased her with girlish enthusiasm. Turning on her heel Yue took off in the other direction, laughing as Tui bounded after her.
“I’ve never seen you quite so carefree, Princess.” Lord Tzumoro called out to her as he approached. He had the traditional tapered pants and vest that firebenders wore when training. His beard was freshly trimmed. His cheeks were sallow. “I loathe to interrupt.”
Yue pulled a face. I can never have a moment of peace without them interrupting. She arranged her features and curtsied. “I take advantage of my youth.”
“I am quite sure.” Tzumoro looked as though he had swallowed a lemon. If her very existence detested him so, why did he continue to seek her out? The pythonanaconda mirrored her grimace. “Are you going to explain what you are doing? This was not what we discussed.” He spat the questions through gritted teeth.
“Whatever do you mean?” Yue rested a staying hand on the top of Tui’s head. “I think I’m exercising.”
The firebender blew steam through his nostrils. “Save your antics and impertinence for the women you titter with. You know very well what I am referring to.” Tzumoro gestured vaguely to the walls of the keep. “This…mummery. We did not agree upon this.”
Yue blinked. “But we did, my lord. You wanted me to endear the Phoenix King to the people. I did that, did I not? Perhaps it is only that the snakes are easier to see after the grass has been cut low.” Tzumoro startled as she slid into a fighting stance after picking up the abandoned glaive. She might as well take advantage of the moment.
Tzumoro chose to humor her. He punched out a blast of fire which she dodged easily. He fought with the firebending scholars on occasion but Yue had never seen him truly exert much effort. “You have the Phoenix King’s ear.” Lord Tzumoro narrowed his eyes. “I did not expect for you to share his bed.”
“I don’t.” Yue snapped. She swung the weapon too wide and nearly lost her balance. She corrected in a heartbeat before the older man could take advantage of her vulnerability. “The only thing I have done is prove my loyalty. Is that not what you charged me to do? He may desire me, but he has never touched me.” Well, once. In the library. He had forgotten himself and ran his hand over her cheek with startling intimacy before shrinking away, disgusted. Whether it was abhorrence of his actions or of Yue was unclear.
The Phoenix King’s unscrupulous advisor grunted. “How the tables have turned. I bent over backwards to make sure you did not interact with the king and here you are leaping into his arms. What exactly do you hope to achieve with this charade, girl? For him to feel an inkling of regret when he kills you?” As he spoke he kicked a barrage of orange flames. “Curtail his truculence by spreading your legs?”
Yue let out a wordless battle cry. She lunged at Tzumoro with renewed intensity. “I said he hasn’t touched me!” Her blade skimmed his head by a hair’s breadth. Being close to Ozai still made her feel skittish even now. Even now, all this time later, Yue could still remember the way his fingers twisted in her hair and the weight of his body pinning her down with bruising force. She could not forget. She would not forget the way his unnaturally warm fingers left imprints between her thighs when he held them open. A dreadful stickiness between her legs that she had scrubbed away until her skin was raw. Every second in his proximity disgusted her. But her desire for revenge fueled her more. “He hasn’t touched me,” she repeated. “And he will not.” The Phoenix King did not have the capacity to be anything more than hawkish and belligerent.
Her ferocity caught Tzumoro off guard. He moved defensively, drawing up walls of fire to keep a distance between them.
Tui had latched her teeth on the man’s pant leg and lashed her head back and forth. Tzumoro stumbled and fell with a shout of dismay. His eyes widened as he faced the sharp edge of Yue’s blade. He held his hands up in defeat. “You will dig your own grave.”
“Then I will take you with me.” Yue moved to allow him to stand. Tzumoro’s brow furrowed in consternation. “Don’t you think the court will find it odd? All these well-off families dropping like flies just as more of your kin migrate here? They would think you greedy and conniving. Perhaps even call you the snake that you are.” Yue sneered. “They would never expect a poor little hostage like me. But you, my lord, hang like an apple ripe for the picking. Tzumoro the Pythonanaconda, as duplicitous as they come.”
Lord Tzumoro dusted himself off. He glowered in contempt at her and her dog. He took another stance. “Come along, then, did you think I would let you win so easily?”
The young woman bared her teeth and raised her weapon. “Of course not.”
They danced well into the mid-morning. Yue was drenched in sweat by the time Tzumoro finally bowed with begrudging respect. She returned the gesture. Yue lifted her head and squinted at the sun. “When will he come?” She whispered.
Tzumoro sighed. “Sooner than I’d hoped. In time we will see dragon banners stretched across the horizon. Then our fates will be sealed.” The man shook himself from his distraction.
As they parted ways, the entrance was blocked by a panting messenger boy frantically waving a parchment in front of him. “Lord Tzumoro, Lord Tzumoro!” He couldn’t have been more than ten. “It’s urgent, my lord.” He bowed to Yue as an afterthought. “Lady Maiko has been arrested!”
The nobleman snatched the paper from the child’s hand and quickly scanned its contents. “This morning?” He flung the missive aside. Yue caught it clumsily.
‘The immediate arrest of Maiko of Clan Tanaka, widow of Lord Takuma of Clan Tanaka the Emberwolves for the suspicion of sedition, aiding and abetting, and provision of funding to enemies against the Crown. She is to be detained by Royal Authorities in the appropriate detention holding befitting her station. She is to be arraigned and brought to trial before the Phoenix King and supporting authorities.’
Yue crumpled the paper and let it fall. Tzumoro began to sweat profusely. It was a curious sight to see. A man usually so composed unraveling in front of her in dusty exercise clothing. This is the catalyst for their downfall. The others had been inconsequential in comparison. Maiko was well-known and well- respected both for her pristine name and her altruism. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten.
Tzumoro grabbed the boy’s collar and shook him fiercely. “What fool gave the order to arrest her?” He roared. The child trembled and his bottom lip wobbled. “For spirits’ sake, boy, who did this?!”
“T-t-the Executive of the Department of Justice, sir.” The boy’s knees were knocking together in fright. “Lord Azinata.” He landed on his rump with an oof.
“Go, boy.” Tzumoro waved his hand and the messenger wasted no time as he scrambled to his feet and scurried away. The councilman whirled on Yue. “I cannot confirm that this is of your doing, but undo it. Turn into a whore and use whatever Water Tribe seduction tricks you know if you must. Throw yourself at his feet. Anything to keep the Phoenix King from making this mistake. We cannot allow Ozai to bring Lady Maiko to trial.” He held up his hands in a gesture of amity. His yellow-gray eyes glimmered. “Please.”
It’s too late, Yue concluded in her mind. She had always known. Maiko had been prepared to die from the moment she pressed the coin into Yue’s hand. Perhaps even before then, after they murdered her husband. Her fate was set in stone. Tzumoro begged her, nearly genuflecting at her feet. His pride was forgotten.
The dragon prince was claiming the outer islands of the Fire Nation right as they spoke. His ships would sail and his dragons would fly. And at the same time the citizens of the capital would riot and rage. Maiko was the martyr that tipped over the cauldron. Yue looked down at the pitiful sight. Somewhere within the bowels of the palace Ozai would begin to break and destroy, as he had always done. How the mighty were brought low. Yue raised her chin. Such is the way of giants. From one angle they look like gods, and from the other like monsters. You may have all the power in the world but you will still wither and rot. You may dream of being a god but you will be struck low. It may be a world for gods, but you are not one of them. You will never be one of them.
Notes:
Also a little nod to my original outline from 10 (!!!!!) years ago. Yue and Ursa were originally less Cersei vs Sansa and more Cersei vs Cersei in terms of moral ambiguity. Also I’m crying in a corner because 2014 really was 10 years ago 😭 and I was like 16 lol.
Chapter 60: No Middle Ground
Notes:
Mild CW: The next few chapters are going to have fight scenes that are pretty ugly. The gray morality comes into the forefront. Yaretzi just can’t catch a break.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yaretzi
The stars reflected in her son’s eyes. He gazed up at her, as if memorizing her face, and she looked down at him as she cradled him in her arms. It was easy to get lost in his eyes. He was by far the most perfect babe, beloved by all. His voracious appetite meant that he gained weight quickly and his cries were loud enough to wake the dead. She brushed her hand over the tufts of hair sprouting from his head. Now that the baby was older and stronger, it was to be their last full week in SunWatch.
In six days time, gods willing, they would sail.
The castle and city had transformed into an abomination of preparations. Soldiers filled every crevice. As the days passed they became increasingly boisterous. The first ships would depart with a mix of Arakemeti, Omashians, and peninsular firebenders. A small force would remain behind to defend the Estival Peninsula. Yaretzi gazed out at the boundless sea and sky. The harbor had become the nesting ground for warships. She had been rather insulated from it all. By her own volition she would admit. Yaretzi wanted nothing more than to sequester herself in the nursery where it was quiet and familiar and safe. She told Sozin of the gods and dragons of her homeland, his homeland. You may have their name, but you have our blood. The baby yawned. Tozi brushed against Yaretzi’s leg and purred. She grinned down at the feline. “There’s still room for you,” she teased as Tozi leapt onto the railing of the balcony. SunWatch was still. For the most part. Down in the courtyard she could see the Avatar and the other waterbending warrior basking in the light of the full moon. They sat some feet apart but Yaretzi could sense their shared connection to the moon that gave them strength.
Sozin cooed contentedly. Yaretzi ran her finger over his satin-soft cheek. He resembled Lu-Ten, and by extension Prince Zuko. Yaretzi had not missed the way Zuko’s eyes had clouded when he held the baby. If he shared their look, he had lamented, would he share their curse? Yaretzi swore it would not come to pass. The cycle would end with her son. She lifted him up and pressed their noses together. “My darling boy,” she sang, “my little dragon.”
Izon and Izara had not strayed far from the city since the preparations began in earnest, save for their hunts. Yaretzi had presented the baby to them when he was two days old, much to Lu-Ten and Lallo’s protests, but the dragons had sniffed him curiously. Sozin had remained perfectly tranquil in her arms. A true dragon-warrior.
“It’s late, sister.” Lallo appeared from the shadows where he had silently sat vigil. “We’re not waterbenders.”
“I know,” Yaretzi replied. “But there is balance in all things. We can appreciate the moon as well. Sozin must understand that as well.”
Lallo snorted. “Yes, well, he’s an infant. The only thing he understands now is milk and a clean diaper.” He reached for his nephew. “There will be time to teach him our ways. First we need to teach him that night is for sleeping,” he drawled lightheartedly, “do you hear that, my aureolus Prince? When the sun is gone, we sleeeeep. Sleep. You do that any other time.” He chuckled. “Your mother was just as confused when she was a little girl. She’s confused now and she’s full grown.”
Yaretzi rolled her eyes. Her heart warmed nonetheless. Her most joyous memories included her eldest brother, who had never been afraid to play dolls with her or to tussle in the grass. He knew her fears better than anyone else, even Moema. Better than Tuwa. “You shouldn’t offend his mother, Lallo. After all, I might tell him to not grant you that beachfront property that you desire, no?” She teased. “A boy loves their mother above all others.”
Well, perhaps not Tuwa. It was not to say that they did not love Tuwa. Quite the opposite. She had been perhaps one of the best mothers in the entire city, but Yaretzi was determined to be a different type of mother. He will know only my warmth, never the chill of a cold shoulder.
“I will have to start bribing him early then.” Lallo replied. “Toys, treats, secret adventures, whatever it takes.” He set Sozin in the crib on the other side of the nursery. When he turned, his expression turned somber. “You will be a queen soon.”
Yaretzi picked at her fingers. Queen. She had heard that word too many times as of late. It settled heavy and bitter on her tongue. Queen. Fire Lady. She would be the first in decades to hold the title; Lu-Ten’s uncle had christened himself as the Phoenix King after the usurpation and his wife had taken the same title. From what Yaretzi knew of the two it suited them. By all accounts they were people who reveled in opulence and avarice- more so than what was to be expected from royalty. Zuko had lived a life of unimaginable luxury. Yaretzi recalled the instances when he recounted the fonder moments of his youth and Lu-Ten’s eyes darkened and his lip twisted. Out of envy, yes, but Yaretzi knew her husband’s dislike of his cousin stemmed from something much more simple:
Prince Zuko was likeable.
Damnably so, if Lu-Ten was to decide. At times Yaretzi found it amusing. Zuko’s lighthearted yet awkward disposition had endeared him to the Order of the White Lotus and the Arakemeti First Spears, and later he had befriended the Avatar and her brother as well and the rest of their faction. The uncouth little earthbender had even given him a nickname: Sparky. She had given Yaretzi one as well, Queenie of the Hellbeasts, which Yaretzi wasn’t sure about but the young noblewoman said it affectionately every time. Yaretzi, Priestess of the Sun Warriors, Lady of the Fire Nation, and Queenie of the Hellbeasts.
She realized that her brother was watching her curiously in that queer way when he knew she was conflicted. Uncharacteristically he did not respond. Yaretzi lingered in the doorway as she left her son to the care of the two nursemaids. One was a peninsular native while the other was handpicked by Lord Dejen from his niece’s court. Lu-Ten refused to leave his child in unfamiliar care. The Arakemeti woman had cared for Princess Osana when she was newborn and was held in high esteem by the Queen of Arakem. With her Hodan had sent a personal missive congratulating Yaretzi on the birth. They were not friends, Yaretzi knew, but she had a begrudging respect for the hard-faced queen that had made her realize her power. Lallo took hold of her forearm, guiding her through the quiet halls of the inner keep. Her curiosity piqued. “I thought you told me to go to bed?”
“Yes, well, you are needed.” Lallo walked briskly. “Did you not wonder why Lu-Ten didn’t seek you out already? He can’t be away from you for more than ten minutes.” Yaretzi scrambled to match his pace as they drew closer to one of the formal tea rooms. She could hear the soft rumble of multiple voices.
Lallo slid the door open without announcing himself. In the center of the room sat Lu-Ten’s council. The men were gathered in the dimly lit tea room, their long shadows flickering on the walls. Lu-Ten’s amber eyes gleamed in the half-light. Lallo bowed to each of the men- Tenoch, Dejen, Lord Gebre, Tsughara, and Prince Zuko. To Zuko’s left was the young chief in his wheelchair. “My apologies for being late to the party.” He took his seat closest to the door and Yaretzi followed suit.
“The baby?” Lu-Ten inquired.
“Sound asleep in the care of Ashera and Ta-Min, brother. Yaretzi wouldn’t be here otherwise.” The corner of Lallo’s mouth twitched. “Now, shall we commence with our clandestine meeting?”
Tenoch reached for the kettle on the table and poured a cup of tea before offering it to Yaretzi. She accepted it gratefully. The young Water Tribesman smiled thinly but amicably at her. They rarely spoke but their few interactions were pleasant enough. He was shadowed often by his sister or his sworn warriors or the Kyoshian warrior woman. Tenoch tapped his knuckles on the table to draw attention to himself. “The hour is quite late, yes, but we have less than a week before the ships sail for the capital. We must discuss our plans for conquering the outer islands and the caldera. We will use the conquered islands as forward bases to support the war effort. Prince Zuko, what will the Fire Nation’s defense look like?”
The burned prince pointed to a red circle on the map of the Fire Nation that had been unfurled over the table. “The first islands you’ll encounter are Saowan and Kheosho right here. They’re small but heavily fortified. Lord Orashi Eizo commands the local militia for both islands. You can bypass them but it’ll only give my father more time to prepare. Right here is Zeisan’s Pass.” He gestured to a part of the map where the water passed narrowly between two rocky formations. “We’ll have to bottleneck through. Once you clear Zeisan’s Pass, the biggest obstacle is Spearhead Atoll. One of the biggest army bases is on the island. That is when the real fighting begins.” He scanned the room with his good eye. “Generals Zianda and Jizai are going to be stationed here.” Yaretzi saw the apple in his throat bob as he swallowed. “And…then there’s the ship.”
“Right…this warship that has enough firepower to blast us into outer space.” Sokka sat up in his chair. “Is there an off switch on that thing?”
Zuko ran a hand through his loose hair. “There’s no off switch.”
Lu-Ten spoke for the first time, his voice venomously soft. “Mayhaps you should board the ship, cousin. You did help design it after all.” He dragged his finger across the map and dug his nail into the depiction of the caldera and the city within the crater. “And where will your father be? Hiding in his palace?”
Prince Zuko did not speak and for a moment Yaretzi wondered if he had been listening. “My mother was trying to dissuade him from facing you in battle, but he wouldn’t budge. You might face him on Spearhead Atoll or in the capital…I don’t know.” His voice rattled. “I know one thing for certain. Azula will be the biggest threat before you face him.”
Would he face his sister in battle? He had told Yaretzi of the promise his sister had made to him to protect his hostage-wife. Where would she be?
Sokka voiced the same concern. “On a scale of one to ten, how likely is it that Yue will be directly in harm’s way?”
The younger firebender’s countenance was grim. “It depends on how far my father is willing to go. He has few friends now after his witch-hunts. He won’t hesitate when he’s cornered.”
Yaretzi’s breath hitched as the realization dawned on them all. She gripped the fabric of her pants and rolled the cotton between her fingers. Zuko had gone stiff. She could not imagine the turmoil within him; he would face his own family in battle. His own sister.
Lu-Ten reached over and gripped Zuko’s forearm in a surprisingly fraternal manner. “I’m sorry it has to end this way, cousin.” He frowned deeply. “It’s not fair to you. Your sister will have the same option that you had: join us or die. If she values your love for her then she will choose wisely.” Lu-Ten leaned back in his chair and Yaretzi saw that he, too, had an expression of forlorn resentment at what had become of his bloodline. “I would like for my son to know his cousins. We have been divided for so long…I didn’t want it to come to this but your father forced my hand. He must die but your sister…the choice is hers.”
Zuko looked down at where Lu-Ten’s hand was wrapped around his wrist. He looked up and met Yaretzi’s gaze, saying much yet nothing at all.
Perhaps it was truly possible. Perhaps, if the gods were kind, the House of Sozin would stand united once more if Azula shed her phoenix feathers for dragon scales. Lu-Ten, Zuko, Azula, and young Sozin. The dragons of the Fire Nation. Tenoch had once said that the royal family had flourished once. Generations ago the Fire Nation palace had been overfilled with children and there had been harmony between all of the branches. But decades of strife had torn the dynasty apart. We can rebuild, Yaretzi thought hopefully. Zuko’s children and my children and Azula’s children will be as one. The Fire Nation (and the world) would know peace.
Lord Gebre broke the silence. “Then we must use every man available. Chief Sokka, could you ask the Air Nomad to use her bison in the initial assault? Even a small number of archers can take out the commanders.” He steepled his fingers. “Lord Chelule’s division of earthbenders are especially skilled. I have full confidence that they will serve well on the front line.” The Arakemeti general was a difficult man to understand. It was an unspoken truth that Lord Gebre was the de facto commander of all of the First Spears; it served them well to remain in his favor. Coin could buy spears but it could not buy the loyalty needed to see victory. “Lady Yaretzi, would you be willing to fly ahead on your dragon with the airbender? The dragons will prove useful until we reach the capital.”
Yaretzi could feel Izara stir. The dragoness was lounging drowsily in one of the courtyards. “Whatever needs to be done,” she replied. Sozin would be safe with Bishara and Tsigereda and a couple of the young chief’s bloodsworn. Yaretzi stood taller. “Whatever needs to be done.”
The day of their departure saw the sun rise unusually brightly. Tenochizun’s favor, Yaretzi thought as she dressed. She studied herself in the mirror. It hadn’t taken long for her belly to flatten after giving birth to Sozin. Her hips had widened and the older women had told her that they never would return to their previous size. It was likely that her breasts would remain larger even after weaning her son, even though Lady Sagal had lamented that they never truly maintained the elasticity of youth. She fitted the breastplate over her shoulders and tightened the straps to the cuirass. She was no warrior, not like the Earth Kingdom women or the Avatar, but she could not stand aside passively while others risked their lives. Yaretzi had braided her hair in a single plait that ran down her back and covered her face in the red paint of her people. It was held in place by the royal headpiece. Be a dragon. Be a dragon.
Her husband stood tall and resplendent in his freshly commissioned armor. It was black, yellow, and red. The breastplate was scalloped to resemble dragon scales and from his belt hung a sheathed sword. He cradled Sozin against his chest but his eyes were on her, glistening in admiration. “The Sun People would be proud.”
She had noticed that Lu-Ten had become reluctant to call the Sun Warriors “his people”. He still firebent the same and worshiped their gods, but he claimed his Fire Nationer ancestry more frequently. He could not forget the people that put themselves in danger to raise him, Yaretzi thought. She wouldn’t allow it. Especially not with Sozin. “I am nervous.”
Lu-Ten crossed the floor and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We are almost there,” he said quietly, “I believe in you. There has never been a more perfect queen.”
Warmth spread across her cheeks. She leaned into him, mindful of their son, and she was reluctant to pass him to Bishara when she entered the room. She would stay behind with Tsigereda, Sigei, the Air Nomad Tsughara, and Yanik in addition to a small guard of trusted Arakemeti soldiers. “May the gods show us favor.”
Izara was coiled with palpable disquiet. Yaretzi approached the dragon with a calming hum in her throat, stroking her snout and pressing her forehead against the warm scales. “Be calm, spirit-sister.” Lu-Ten was beside her, already mounted on Izon. The priestess pulled herself up and swung into place on Izara’s back, loosely gripping the reins. The first ships had sailed just before dawn and the others would soon follow.
Tsephel, the airbender, grinned broadly. The Avatar sat behind her with her Banka-Kadian lover, having left her leopard-caribou on one of the ships, and the firebending turncoat. “Are you ready?” The airbender asked. “The fire-breathing menace keeps rushing me.”
Yaretzi stifled a laugh. It was evident to all that Tsephel and Rojhan harbored suppressed feelings for each other, masked by their incessant bickering. She sobered. “I’m ready.”
“Dache, yip yip!” The airbender snapped the reins and her flying bison pushed herself into the sky with a rumble. Izara followed suit with three flaps of her powerful wings. Izon was not far behind.
Yaretzi relished in the feel of the wind on her face and the salty air as they took off from the coast of the Estival Peninsula and then across the sea. There was no greater freedom than flight. Izara rose higher, basking in the sun. Yaretzi threw her head back to relish the sunlight on her face. Her braid fluttered in the wind. It didn’t take long for Izara to overtake the others, catching up to the flagship. She could see the soldiers craning their necks as the magenta shadow passed overhead. She spotted the young chief in his wheelchair beside Zuko, eyes stretched wide with awe. Yaretzi pulled gently on Izara’s ruff and the dragon fell into a barrel roll, dipping so close to the deck of the ship that her tail tip brushed the mast. She pulled up again, ascending into the clouds. Yaretzi could almost forget that they were riding to war.
Almost.
———
She could see the island of Saowan on the horizon. Its fortress, smaller than SunWatch, lingered ominous and dark on the skyline. Yaretzi sat up straighter, her hands involuntarily finding refuge in Izara’s ruff. The dragon rumbled. The first warships had surrounded the coastline and the others were headed towards Kheosho. The highest point of the castle had two flags: one was the phoenix and the smaller was a capybara-goose. The sigil of Orashi Eizo. Yaretzi inhaled and pulled on the black helm that had been fashioned for her mission. Tsephel flew alone just underneath her. Katara and the others had joined Sokka’s group below. Tsephel and Yaretzi would create an opening for the soldiers to invade.
Yaretzi could see lines of infantrymen forming in front of the outer moat of the fortress. They had assembled trebuchets and mounted crossbows loaded with wicked bolts. Their metal blades glinted in the light. Yaretzi gritted her teeth and Izara let out a growl. Kill them? The dragon’s inquiry brushed at the back of Yaretzi’s mind. The sight of the artillery burned away any reluctance that lingered and the fire-breathing beast prepared to take the offensive. Spirit-sister, yes?
“We are not monsters. We are not them.” Yaretzi answered aloud. Tsephel pulled Dache up until they were flying side by side.
“Question,” Tsephel called out, “how strictly do you stick to your moral compass?”
Yaretzi blustered for a second. Tsephel smirked before she could answer, her gray eyes darkening. “I am a pacifist, I swear. But I think the nuns will forgive me for stepping out of our moral code.” She yanked hard on Dache’s reins. “This is war, after all.”
The flying bison plunged down. Izara followed suit, tucking her wings close to her body. Agni, fearsome god, be with me. The ground and sea rose up to meet her, too quickly for her own comfort, as Izara pressed on. She bellowed out a roar that caused the water to ripple. She could see the soldiers frantically swiveling the trebuchet in their direction, struggling to load the contraption before the formidable beasts were upon them. Yaretzi clung tight to the rope. She was not built for war. Not for killing.
Dache broke away from them as the first of the heavy iron balls soared through the air. Tsephel leapt to her feet and spun on her heels with her arms outstretched, sending a gust of wind that sent the cannonball flying far off course, landing somewhere in the ocean. The airbender leaned over the edge of the saddle and punched down. The air rippled and gave way as the vast disturbance caused a massive wave to form. She blew her breath, urging the wind to continue to carry the water with it. The tidal wave lapped at the coastline. “Well I’ll be damned, you don’t see that every day. That was actually the first time I did that!” Tsephel shouted with a triumphant laugh, “not bad!”
Izara dodged a crossbow bolt that had been released too late. It shot over their heads. It would kill a dragon, Yaretzi realized. The bolt was perhaps seven feet long. Six of those feet were the shaft and the last was the blade. It was as long as Yaretzi’s forearm, forged from steel that could pierce through scales, bones, and flesh. The soldiers were slow to reload the weapons. They were heavy and unwieldy, obviously reconstructed from an earlier, more primitive version. She could imagine that they had been hastily rigged when they caught wind of the impending attack. Izara rose high to avoid another projectile. Anger spiked in the dragon that spilled over into Yaretzi’s mind, filling her with a deep-set, primitive rage. Yaretzi struggled to regain control of her emotions, finding that the dragon’s nature had nearly overtaken her own. She pushed back against Izara’s bloodlust, chanting the dragon-calming mantra. Lu-Ten cannot handle this, she thought. Her husband had never managed to separate his emotions for Izon, allowing the dragon’s innate magic to supersede his own. Fire made flesh, he had called it, and Yaretzi knew it to be true. Her nights praying to the mother of the dragons had taught her that long ago. I must not falter. I must not give in.
Tsephel deflected another leaden ball as they approached the legion of foot soldiers. Yaretzi could see their red and black armor and their petrified white faces. Their commander called out an order that was out of Yaretzi’s earshot but as a cohesive unit the men fell into a bending form. The barrage of fireballs came at them like a hellish rain. Dache ducked and dove around them, slapping her massive tail and causing a gust of wind that traveled over the distance. The flames were extinguished just as quickly as they formed.
Yaretzi leaned forward. “Izara,” she sang, “do as you must, soul-sister.”
The dragon needed no further encouragement. She flapped her wings and surged forward, spewing a torrent of pink and green fire. Her flame overtook those that the firebenders had launched, absorbed into her own. Yaretzi squeezed her eyes shut as Izara made her first pass over the army, destroying the war machines as she went. Yaretzi steered her away from the soldiers as much as she could, urging Izara to target the trebuchets and crossbows. She would not cause unnecessary deaths. Izara veered up and swept back around, sending scores of men ducking for cover. Yaretzi glanced at the shore to see the first waves of the Arakemeti and Omashians had landed. They charged forward and the earth quaked as they began the onslaught of rock and shrapnel. Archers and spearmen were amongst their numbers, piercing through the Fire Nationers of Saowan. Yaretzi’s stomach turned as the path to the castle was paved with dead and dying men. The morning erupted into a cacophony of screams. Some of terror, others of jubilant bloodlust. The terrible music of firebending and earthbending clashing together filled Yaretzi’s ears, clashing with the sound of steel against armor. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend she was anywhere else, that she was with Sozin safe back on the Estival Peninsula. Not here amongst such carnage. The storming of SunWatch had been relatively bloodless in comparison. All men die but the god of death lives forever.
First Spear Chelule and his men were cutting their way up the hill, trailed closely by the Omashian commander Lord Haoran. To their credit, the firebenders pressed on even when it became clear that the tide was turning against them. Quite literally, Yaretzi mused. Tsephel and Dache were using their newfound ability to guide the waves using the wind, sweeping away the red clad soldiers that had unfortunately gotten too close, and shielding the earthbenders that were storming the shore. Further away from the beach, closer to the castle, the fighting continued.
Vomit surged up her throat as she watched a Fire Nation soldier disintegrate in a macabre spray of blood, having been struck directly by a jagged boulder hurled at such high velocity that it might as well have been an explosive. His brother-in-arms covered his ears and curled into a ball, his entire body painted red and splattered with what remained. Another was desperately holding his intestines in his body after being gored by a polearm. An Arakemeti earthbender was rolling on the ground in a pitiful attempt to extinguish the fire that consumed his clothing. An Omashian was wandering aimlessly with the charred remains of his comrade’s arm. She could hear nothing but pleas of mercy. Some were crying for their mothers who would never come. Others were begging for death. A thousand prayers to the gods that had forsaken them. Yaretzi observed from above, horrified beyond measure, and wondered why mankind had become so hateful. It’s not meant to be like this, she despaired, it’s not meant to be like this. Yaretzi began to weep soundlessly, the salt of her tears stinging her lips. Agni, let it end!
When Tsephel and Dache flew closer, Yaretzi saw that the young airbender’s brown face had taken on a haunted pallor. The light in her eyes was beginning to fade and her previously jovial disposition was nowhere to be seen. “Don’t look,” she rasped, “we can’t look. We have to keep moving to Kheosho.”
The flagship and the second wave of the troopships had already splintered off in the direction of Kheosho, the second island that was only two hour’s sail from Saowan. By Yaretzi’s estimate they were already halfway there. Izara fluttered her wings. Yaretzi could not tear her eyes away. The first waves of earthbenders had finally made it up the hill.
“Yaretzi!” Tsephel’s voice grew louder and sharper. “We can’t stay! Come on!”
Think of Sozin.
Spurred to action at last, Yaretzi and Izara took off after the Air Nomad. They left the island of Saowan to its fate. She dared not look back.
They flew in an appalled silence. Yaretzi could still hear the screams even after the island was far behind.
This is only the beginning. Was this truly what the gods wanted? How many more sons and daughters would die today? How many more homes would go up in smoke?
By the time they arrived at Kheosho, the bloodbath had already begun. The larger island was heavily fortified with pits and ramparts and the inhabitants were fully prepared for the battle. Columns of firebenders lined the shore and still more waited further inland. More catapults were scattered along the beach. Yaretzi searched desperately for her brother and found him fighting in a cluster with Zuko, Rojhan and the Water Tribesmen. Katara was just ahead, clearing a path with her waterbending. Jet shielded her from behind, swinging his dual hooked swords like they were an extension of his body. Breathing a sigh of relief, Yaretzi continued with her mission, destroying the war machines from above.
A red shadow of death soared overhead. Izon’s wingspan momentarily blocked the sun, casting a shadow over the battlefield. The Fire Nationers looked up, awestruck by the sight of not only one dragon, but two. He circled once and then twice. Lu-Ten appeared on the dragon’s back, gleaming in his dragonscale armor. His army cheered at the appearance of the Fire Lord and Fire Lady. They threw themselves into the fray with reinvigorated fervor. Zuko and Lallo fought back to back, moving in tandem. One of the Tribesmen, Touqa if Yaretzi recalled correctly, dashed to cover Jet’s back when a Fire Nationer raised a stolen spear. Yaretzi could only watch, mesmerized in the most horrific way, as the young warrior cleaved Jet’s assailant clean in two. The Banka-Kadian and the Tribesman fell in synchronicity with each other so naturally that it was as if they had trained for lifetimes together. Katara formed a chrysalis of water as they advanced.
The fatigued and battered firebenders fell back and reinforcements surged forward. Men fell over each other, trampled in the chaos. Yaretzi’s head swiveled to track Izon’s flight path. The red dragon roared ferociously, diving towards a group of the islanders. Yaretzi whimpered. Please, don’t do it.
The line of soldiers erupted in a burst of fire.
Lu-Ten quickly changed direction and Izon’s red flames struck a trebuchet before the operators could load the crossbow bolt. Yaretzi caught his eye across the distance and she balked at the sheer joy that was plastered on his face. He was drunk on the idea of destruction, she dismayed, he and Izon had become one. Great Father, no. No no no no no no.
There was no time to call out to him. The air whistled. Izara screeched as a crossbow quarrel pierced her wing membrane. She tumbled through the air, plummeting in disorienting circles. Yaretzi clung to the dragon’s neck, biting down so hard on her lip that she drew blood. Izara rolled, falling to the earth. Yaretzi let out a jagged sob as the ground rose up to meet her. She disentangled herself from the rope only heartbeats before Izara smashed into the ground. The priestess hit the ground, her head slamming back against the rock and gravel. Stars peppered her vision. Her chest heaved, winded, and she scrambled into a crouch. Izara squawked once more and righted herself, allowing Yaretzi to frantically examine her wing. The bolt had gone clean through and would leave no lasting damage. Izara was more frightened than injured. Yaretzi rubbed her snout vigorously, urging her to take flight. They were safest in the sky.
Izon dropped low enough for Lu-Ten to leap down. A firebender was charging in Yaretzi’s direction, his spear lowered to pierce her flesh. Yaretzi conjured a wall of fire just as Lu-Ten appeared in front of the other man, bringing his sword down in a slashing motion. His arm fell away from his body, landing at his feet. He crumpled where he stood. Lu-Ten ran over to her, his eyes wide. “Yaretzi!” Lu-Ten skidded to a halt, pulling her against his chest before turning to Izara. Izon keened loudly at the sight of his wounded counterpart. “Are you okay?”
Yaretzi shook her head twice to clear it. “Yes,” she slurred. “Just dizzy. Izara is fine, she just-” Yaretzi broke off when she heard a peculiar sound. She strained her ears and peered over the rubble of what had once been a wall. Her stomach turned.
Perhaps five feet away cowered a second young man, maybe the same age as Yaretzi or a year younger. He had crawled away from the others. His cheeks and helm were streaked red. He covered his head with his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. At his side was a broken sword. Feeling Yaretzi’s eyes upon him, he looked up. His left eye was swollen and blackened, and three of his teeth had been chipped. The islander trembled like a leaf. He was someone’s son. Someone’s brother. He was someone.
Yaretzi knelt and extended her hand. He stared at it. Then it dawned on her that he was not looking at her at all. The soldier was gazing into a world that was miles away, bloodshot eyes glazed over and his jaw slackened. “You’ve put your sword down,” she whispered, “you’ve surrendered. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” Yaretzi thrust her hand closer. “You’ve done enough, no?”
He seemed to see her for the first time. His agonized face grew impossibly paler and his eyes became the size of discs. He began to sob anew, pulling himself into a ball. “I don’t wanna be here anymore,” he cried. “I give up, I give up, I give up!” The sound of rock being thrown made him flinch and shrink away. He squealed, sounding very much like a frightened child. He was. Upon closer inspection he couldn’t have been more than sixteen.
Yaretzi knelt and grasped his forearms. “Surrender is not dishonorable,” she hushed him, “you’ve done enough.”
Still he remained in the same position. His fingers were cold. “Please, I just wanna go home to my mama, dragon lady, please!”
Lu-Ten speared him through the chest.
Yaretzi retched.
Lu-Ten pulled his sword free apathetically, kicking the young soldier’s body away from him. “I did him a favor,” he said flatly and shrugged. “He was going to die anyway.”
Yaretzi slapped him.
Lu-Ten’s head snapped to the side. He pressed his fingers against the reddening mark on his cheek, mouth opening and closing without a sound. Yaretzi was unable to maintain her composure. She was acutely aware of the continuing massacre. “You killed him!” She shrieked. “He surrendered and you killed him!”
Her husband’s expression morphed into one of molten anger. “Look around you,” he snarled, “what’s one more?” Yaretzi glared at him with a fury of her own. Lu-Ten shrank back and his shoulders sagged. “It was merciful, Yaretzi. He would have been dead before nightfall. At least I made it quick.” The prince took hold of her hands and refused to let her jerk away. “It was merciful. But now is not the time. They’ve almost reached the stronghold. Get to safety,” he ordered, “you’ve done enough.”
The battle lasted into the night when at last Orashi Eizo was captured in the bastion. They dragged him onto the parapet for all to see and Lu-Ten solemnly beheaded him after the islanders offered their unconditional surrender. Yaretzi watched, unable to think of anything other than the dying light in the young soldier’s eyes.
The citizens of Kheosho emerged from their hiding places and the night was filled with tears.
————
Yaretzi did not care to hear the number of casualties incurred from the invasion. She sat alone on the buttress that overlooked the sea and the warships clustered around the island. She had scrubbed her skin raw but she still could not rid herself of the filth of war. Yaretzi drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. The sun was setting on the fifth day since they took control of Kheosho and Saowan. The dying rays turned the sky into the color of blood. The dragons flew in lazy circles. Yaretzi ducked her head between her knees to stifle a sob.
There was the sound of footsteps and then a pair of pointed toe boots appeared in the corner of her eye. Before she could argue, Zuko took a seat at her side. For a long time they did not speak. He stared at the ocean bleakly. Yaretzi stole a glance at him. He sat with one leg drawn up, resting his arm, and the other stretched out before him. His lips were pressed in a hard line.
“I used to watch my father kill people.” He spoke so quietly that Yaretzi strained to hear him. “Not often. My mother would shield us from the worst of it. She would somehow find a way to keep us distracted or send us away. She couldn’t shield me when he burned my face.” He had taken his hair down. It spilled messily over his brow, which was furrowed in rumination. “I wonder if protecting us from my father’s wrath was her idea of atonement.”
Yaretzi remained silent.
“I’ve never seen…this. There are hundreds of battle recollections in the library, but none of them describe the smell.” Zuko exhaled raggedly. “And to think there’s more of this to come. This was only the beginning and I just-”
“I do not wish to speak of this anymore,” Yaretzi interrupted. She had told no one about Lu-Ten killing the boy. Not even Lallo. He, like the others, had been able to compartmentalize the horrors they witnessed. Yaretzi was not so fortunate. While they ate and drank and laughed, she could only look on. “I am sorry, Prince Zuko, but I cannot-”
Zuko reached out as if to touch her and hesitated. His hand hovered over her shoulder before at last he patted her arm. Yaretzi covered her cousin-by-law’s hand with her own. They sat in silence until the sun sank beneath the horizon and the stars began to shine and glimmer.
“Do you think Yue will like moon daisies?” Zuko asked. “I saw them in one of the gardens back in SunWatch and I was just thinking. She might like a bouquet.”
Yaretzi quickly regained her composure after pulling a flabbergasted face. She regarded the prince, finding a faint smile on his lips. “You speak very highly of the princess. I am sure she will take pleasure in whatever you bring her.” For the first time in days she giggled. “You will make the right choice. How do you say it? I be-leaf in you.”
Zuko snorted. “Do you know what the ocean said to the beach?”
The young woman groaned. “Prince Zuko, I am not good with these puns.”
He smiled cheekily. “It didn’t say anything. It just waved.”
Yaretzi grinned. “That one wasn’t so bad. I have one, I think. What did the koala-otter say to the other?” Zuko’s grin broadened. “There is no otter like you.” They laughed freely, surely loud enough to bring attention to themselves yet no one came. The tension sapped from the air and Yaretzi relaxed. “Lallo has a better grasp of wordplay than I do. I spent so much time in the temple pouring over rituals and histories that sometimes it is harder to grasp modern semantics.” She gestured vaguely. “You and your cousin have a strange sense of humor.”
Zuko reclined against the balustrade. “Must run in the family,” he replied. “At least our bloodline is good for something.”
——-
Zeisan’s Pass was formed by two separate mountainous islands that had converged centuries ago, leaving only a narrow gap between them to filter ships through. According to Zuko, Sozin had renamed the strait in honor of his sister, and it had previously been known as the Dragon’s Crossing. Yaretzi gripped the railing. It was overcast. It had rained incessantly the day before, leaving a thicket of fog that slowed the armada considerably. Lu-Ten stood at the prow, conversing with Tenoch and Lord Gebre.
“Aye, here’s your water and fog that you wanted, Meeks.” Touqa, one of Sokka’s warriors, called out to his waterbending companion. “Not enough for you?”
Mika was seated on a barrel. Yaretzi quirked her lips as the waterbender bemoaned his inability to escape his fellow Tribesman. It was all in good humor. Sokka was extremely close with his bloodsworn, who looked at him with the same loyalty and affection that he gave them in return. “I’d prefer snow but I’ll take what I can get. Right, Katara?”
The young Avatar turned to face the other waterbender. She knelt beside her brother. “I’ll just lay down in a snow mound for a few hours,” she said. Her blue eyes twinkled.
Yaretzi had been surprised by how quickly they formed a rapport with each other. The Water Tribe warriors had absorbed Zuko, Jet and Rojhan into their number, and even Lallo spent a considerable amount of time with them. Yaretzi had moments of feeling out of place, like a fish in strange waters. They initially were wary of her. She was a mother, a sorceress, and soon to be a queen. Yet Suki, Tsephel, Katara, and the terrifying robustious little earthbender Toph drew her in with open arms.
“You can bring Sozin to the Air Temples and I’ll show him how to ride a flying bison,” Tsephel had said.
“Bring him to Kyoshi and we’ll teach him how to use war fans,” Suki had chimed in.
Toph had cackled. “That’s all boring,” she yawned, “let me borrow him when he’s a little bigger and he’ll be the greatest firebender alive!”
Katara pursed her lips. “But you’re an earthbender, Toph?”
The little girl had grinned mischievously. “That doesn’t mean anything, Sugar Queen. I’ll be the greatest earthbender ever, which means I’ll be the best sifu in the whole world.”
Their sororal presence lessened the sting that Yaretzi felt when she thought about her son. But he was far away, where it was safe, and she knew they would be reunited soon enough. In time he would be free to travel. To her homeland, to the Earth Kingdoms, and Air Temples, wherever he desired. Let him grow up to know all the nations of the world. To see their beauty and to know their people as well as his own. He would have friends in all nations, from the coasts of Garsai to the frigid tundra of the North Pole.
Mist clung to Yaretzi’s skin. She envied Katara, who was able to bend the water away from her hair and skin. The others were forced to wear cowls or endure the constant chill. It didn’t help that the waterway became increasingly narrower, forcing the troopships to funnel through. The cliffs threatened to bear down on them, obscuring the view of the dragons and Dache. Watchmen were posted on the upper deck with telescopes, shouting codes back to the soldiers below that Yaretzi did not understand. They complained that the fog hindered them from navigating confidently. For a heart stopping moment it appeared that they were going to collide with the side of the cliff only for the vessel to turn at the last second.
“Apple whale.” One of the Arakemeti mariners shouted down from the bird nest. “Starboard!”
Lord Odoya, who alternated leadership with Lady Sagal and Lord Gebre, cupped his hands around his mouth. “Apple whale! Turn her starboard!” He bellowed and the men around him echoed his command. “Too close to the cliff, approaching west cliff!”
The helmsman guided the warship to the right to avoid an overhanging rock. The mist lifted slightly and in the dim gray light Yaretzi caught sight of a demon’s face.
The first arrow punctured Lord Odoya’s throat.
The earthbender staggered backwards, choking on his words as his breath wheezed and rattled. Lord Odoya was a hulking man, the epitome of an earthbending man, and when he fell, the metallic ring of his armor hitting the deck sounded like thunder.
There was barely time to react before the arrows began to rain down on them. The men began to scatter. The Avatar and Mika fell into sync, bending a shield over the deck that crystallized into ice. Yaretzi dropped into a crouch, finding herself enveloped in Zuko’s arms. He dragged her to the floor, forcing her to huddle with Sokka and Suki. The young prince’s eyes grew increasingly panicked, wincing as the ice shield cracked with the heavy downpour of arrows. Yaretzi covered her head as shards of ice fell around her.
“What the fuck is happening?” Jet exclaimed. An arrowhead penetrated the dome.
Zuko and Rojhan answered at the same time. “Yu-Yan archers.”
“The red-eyes,” Rojhan’s voice quavered. “The most elite archers in the Fire Nation. They’re hiding in the cliffs under the cover of the fog. We’re screwed.”
“Where’s Lu-Ten?!” Yaretzi felt the roaring current of blood in her ears. “Where’s Lallo?”
Katara and Mika strained with the effort of maintaining their defense. The sound of arrows hitting the ship and men could be heard running and screaming about. The Avatar pushed her hands up, solidifying the ice dome, gritting her teeth.
“Y’know, after having my leg blown off, I didn’t think being skewered by arrows and turned into a Sokka-kabob was how I was going to go out.” The young Chief joked, but his voice rattled, and when Yaretzi looked at him she saw that his blue eyes had become the size of the moon. Sweat formed on his brow.
Yaretzi flinched at the constant chink chink of arrowheads connecting with the dome. Where’s Lu-Ten? She had last seen him with Lallo and Tenoch in their cabin, heads down as they poured over battle plans. She snapped to attention when Rojhan cleared his throat.
“We don’t know what’s going out there, but the only way to stop a Yu-Yan archer is to take away their weapons. Or kill them.” His countenance had deepened. He became the commander that he had once been, the brilliant young man who had gained the sash and medals of the highest ranks before he defected. “We have to move quickly and strike before they can reload.”
“And the only way to catch them by surprise is to attack from above.” Sokka added, ever the strategist. He had a brilliant mind, Yaretzi knew, and in time he would serve his country well. “The only thing is we have three ways of doing that. But the dragons could cook us if they aim too low. Yaretzi, what’s the likelihood of Izon and Izara missing their target?”
The priestess bit her lip. Without a rider, the dragons were free to do as they pleased. Izon was volatile, and who was to say that he would take caution to avoid the ship? Her stomach lurched. Yet again more would die. When will it end? Citlali, I did not think it would come to this. How many souls would she have to bless as they passed into the afterlife? A foolish part of her had hoped that the Fire Nation would surrender peacefully. But why would they? Ozai had burned his own child. He would take the entire Fire Nation down with him. And if he did not, then Lu-Ten would set the nation to the torch. “I cannot say.”
Tsephel spoke up. “It’ll be ugly, but if I can have you firebenders with me on Dache, I have an idea that might work. If they fight dirty then we get downright filthy, right Toph?” The earthbender flashed a grin. “I’m an airbender. If you all can bend in unison, I could use my bending to amplify your range. A flamethrower, if you will. That’s basically what you lot are anyway.”
“There’s no time to bicker!” Katara snapped. She had begun to perspire from exertion. “If you think it’ll work, then do it!”
Rojhan, the de facto leader in that moment, frowned severely, his eyes clouding. Yaretzi wondered what memory plagued him. After a long heartbeat he gave an ephemeral nod. “Let’s do it. The rest of you, cover our backs. Suki, get the Chief to Lu-Ten.” His lips twitched. “I’ll make sure to let you wreak havoc next time, Toph.” His eyes roved over all of them, softening when they landed on Tsephel.
Yaretzi forced her hands to stop shaking as the Avatar and the Tribesman let their frozen defense fall. They began to alternate movements, one forming a temporary shield while the other drew more water from the sea around them. Tsephel blew her bison whistle shrilly. Touqa, Jet, and Kunip sliced through as many arrows as they could before the projectiles could reach their targets. A number of the Arakemeti and Omashians had fallen where they stood, felled by the barrage of projectiles. Among them was Lord Gebre, rendered nearly unrecognizable by the amount of arrows that had pierced his armor. Yaretzi looked straight ahead as she raced after the others, grasping Rojhan’s hand when he hauled her onto the flying bison’s saddle. She silently urged for the dragons to stay back and prayed that Lu-Ten was safe.
Tsephel snapped the reins and Dache climbed higher, dodging the Yu-Yan archers with surprising agility. The Air Nomad’s shoulders were tense, the only indication that she was afraid. Dache burst through the clouds, gliding low enough that the riders could see the cohort of archers hiding on the cliff face. Tsephel stood, beckoning for the others to do the same. “Do your thing.” There was no humor in her tone. “And I’ll do mine.”
Yaretzi followed Rojhan and Zuko’s lead as they swiftly conjured long streams of fire that cracked like whips. Tsephel pushed the wind from behind, amplifying the heat and range of their attack. Yaretzi noticed that tear streaks ran down her cheeks. Violence went against her very bringing, no matter how much her braggadocio suggested otherwise.
The stench of burning flesh was a smell that one would never accustomed to, nor the wails of agony that followed. She kept her gaze averted, instead watching the waters as the ship continued to pass through Zeisan’s Pass. The archers began to fall back as they became aware of the assault from above, dragging their injured comrades with them. She held her breath to avoid breathing in the horrid smell. Dache preceded the ship, allowing for the firebenders to clear the strait. The earthbenders on the ships had finally reorganized and had begun to use coordinated bending to crush the archers with the rocks of Zeisan’s Pass. She was unsure if the sound was the grating of stone or the crunching of bone. She dared not think.
She allowed herself to regain cognizance only when the others stopped. All five of them sat heavily, chests heaving with exhaustion. Her fingers were blistered. Yaretzi pressed her hands together and willed the healing fire to restore her skin. One by one she did the same to the others, feeling a small sense of pride when they stared at her in wonder. Let me do this one thing. Perhaps it will serve as some expiation.
When Dache landed on the deck, the others had already reconvened, including Lu-Ten and the Order of the White Lotus. Yaretzi had never seen Tenoch so discomposed. Lallo, too, observed the scene despondently. Lu-Ten stood rigid, his expression a queer, disquieting combination of anguish and outrage. To see his enemies annihilated was one thing. To see the men who placed their trust in him was another. Yaretzi swayed and her knees buckled as she rejoined her husband and her brother. Lallo shuddered as a sigh of relief escaped his lips. He stroked her hair. Yaretzi pressed her face against her brother’s chest, feeling Lu-Ten’s warm hands on her shoulders.
“I want to go home,” she whimpered. “Lallo, I do not want to do this anymore. I want to go home. With Sozin. With you.” The Fire Nation could keep their kings and crowns, and decadent palaces, and cruelty and violence. Where had her faith gotten her? Nowhere, besides standing ankle deep in corpses and guilt. “Brother, I want to go home.”
“We’ve come too far-” Tenoch began.
Yaretzi felt an uncharacteristic surge of fury. She pulled away from Lallo, pointing her finger at the man who had fathered her. She was apathetic to the presence of the others. “I do not care!” Yaretzi spun around, gesturing to the faces of dozens of men petrified and in shock. “I do not care! It is because of you that we came this way in the first place! If you had left us in peace, none of this would have happened. But you-you and your order were so hellbent on disposing of that-that-that tyrant.” She whirled on Lu-Ten. “How many more will die for this evil crown that you so covet? Are you so willing to put our son in danger?”
“Hundreds. Thousands.” Lu-Ten’s clipped response was bone-chilling. “It is as Tenoch said. We, I, have come too far to turn back and let Ozai conquer and destroy the world. At this point, Yaretzi, there is no point of return. There has been no middle ground since the day that whore tore me open.” He towered over her and Yaretzi took a step back. His expression clouded with melancholy. “This is to save Sozin.”
Bewildered and heartbroken, wrecked by the turmoil that roiled in her spirit, Yaretzi regarded the men of her life. “I do not know any of you,” she confessed as the corners of her eyesight grew darker. She felt herself grow light headed and unsteady. Lallo caught her before her body could hit the ground. “I want to go home,” she slurred, “I want to go-”
———
She awoke to the cold feel of a damp rag on her forehead. Yaretzi groaned. It felt as though her body was made of stone. Her limbs could not move. She blinked. Sunlight streamed in the window of the cabin. Bright red hair and large pale eyes met her own. The Kyoshian stood over her, wringing the excess water from the cloth before dabbing at Yaretzi’s cheeks. “I hope it’s not too cold. I got a lot of practice doing this when Sokka…was hurt.”
Yaretzi struggled to sit upright. Her arms betrayed her and she fell back onto the bed. “W-why are you…?”
Suki flushed. “All of us girls took turns watching over you,” she admitted bashfully. “Well, Lallo and Fire Lord Lu-Ten as well. Sokka was so thirsty when he woke up. Do you want something to drink?” She slid her arms under Yaretzi and lifted her into a sitting position, tucking the pillow behind her as support.
The priestess managed to shake her head. Suki passed her a glass of water anyway, urging her to take a sip. “Don’t drink too fast or you’ll throw up everywhere.”
“Why are you here?” Yaretzi repeated after drinking slowly. She glanced down at her clothing. She no longer wore the pants and cuirass. “What is going on?”
Suki wrung the rag nervously, her eyes darting over the room before landing on Yaretzi. “It was decided that…” she seemed to search for the right words, “the Order of the White Lotus decided it was best that you slept after what happened at Zeisan’s Pass. They gave you poppy tears to help you rest.” The Kyoshi Warrior’s lips curled in contempt. “Except their idea of ‘rest’ was essentially keeping you in a coma for five days.”
Yaretzi jolted. “Five days?” She shook her head vigorously. “Surely you have mistaken, yes? My brother would never allow that, no, you are mistaken.”
Unless he had no choice.
The smile Suki gave her was sad. Yaretzi continued to shake her head. “I do not believe you,” she said, “where is Lu-Ten? Where is my brother?”
“They’re on the topside,” the other woman replied. “I didn't think you would wake up right now. We’re coming up on the Gates of Azulon. After that…we’ll reach the Spearhead Atoll.” Her countenance grew somber. “Everyone says that this will be the worst of it. But I don’t know how it can get any worse than what we’ve already faced. I’ve been traveling with Sokka for so long and I’ve never seen…that. They paint the image of battle as something glorious, something to be proud of. But how can I be proud when I stabbed a teenager younger than me in the throat?” Suki’s bottom lip trembled. “Every battle has been worse than the last. The first time I stayed with Sokka, but we watched it all unfold. Do you want me to tell your brother and the Fire Lord?”
“No.” Yaretzi answered tersely.
For a moment they did not speak. Suki remained seated on her knees, facing away from Yaretzi, and the priestess stared at the window. She gave the tiniest nod to respect Yaretzi’s wishes. Yaretzi’s mind raced. She could not fathom such betrayal. Not from Lallo. Not from Lu-Ten. She felt nauseous. Did they truly have such little regard for her? I should have stayed in SunWatch. I was happier there. We were happier there.
A brusque knock on the door was followed by Lallo entering the cabin. Upon seeing that Yaretzi was awake, he grimaced. “I won’t waste my breath with grandiloquence. Suki, I appreciate you. If you don’t mind…?”
The auburn haired woman took her leave without protest, leaving the two siblings alone. Yaretzi refused to look at her brother even when he sat directly in front of her.
“Yaretzi.” Lallo’s voice was firm. “Let me explain.”
“I do not need you to explain anything to me.” She retorted. “If you and Lu-Ten believe me to be such a hindrance then I do not see why you will not permit me to go back to SunWatch. Izara and I will make it there without help. If I am such an inconvenience, yes?” She glowered at him and Lallo shrank under the heat of her glare.
“I had nothing to do with it, sister. It was Tenoch’s decision. Lu-Ten went along with it because he didn’t want to see you hurt.” Lallo’s eyelashes were wet with unshed tears. “Yaretzi, you know how much he loves you. How much I love you. You had frenzied yourself into a fever.” He pulled her in his arms. “Sister, you must understand.”
She shook her head incessantly. “I do not,” she said and again louder, “I do not. Is that how it shall be? I become a hysterical woman and they lock me away in the darkest part of the palace? They dislike me and shove poppy tears down my throat?”
Lallo fought against her, gripping her forearms and holding her still. “No,” he snapped and she had never heard her brother speak with such vitriol. “No. I will die before I allow that.”
Yaretzi believed him. But the betrayal cut deep. His dark eyes, so like her own, sparkled.
“Come up with me to the topside. You’ll see the statue. And just think, sister, in time we’ll be reunited with Sozin. And I can start bribing my nephew for that beachfront property.” Lallo nudged her. “Come on.”
Reluctantly she followed and squinted at the sudden bright light. The deck had been cleaned, leaving no trace of the travesty that had occurred in Zeisan’s Pass, leaving no trace of the men who had lost their lives. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. At the railing stood Lu-Ten, gazing out pensively at the sea, his hands clasped behind his back. He turned at the sound of their approach. His expression was indecipherable.
The sea was indescribably blue. She could see jubilant dolphins leaping from the water. The sun struck the surface just so, turning it the most perfect azure shade. The sky was cloudless.
And in the distance, drawing ever closer, the Gates of Azulon rose up from the sea. Even from this vantage point, Yaretzi could see the intricate details of the effigy. It was a stone colossus, weathered by the wind and the sea, but it was no less impressive. The likeness of Azulon had an uncanny resemblance to Lu-Ten and Zuko, bearing the same angular features and narrow eyes, the same severe expression. The statue’s arms were outstretched and from them extended chains and ropes that formed the net between the caldera and the rest of the world. As she watched, Izon and Izara flew over the statue, breathing out a vortex of multicolored flames. The gates came alight and fire began to spread for miles in either direction. The ropes withered and fell apart. The chains melted and spilled into the sea. An opening appeared. Lu-Ten’s chest swelled with pride and he smiled triumphantly. Yaretzi looked on as the dragons laid claim to the Gates. The armada sailed in their shadow. Yaretzi stiffened when Lu-Ten wrapped his arm around her before slowly easing her tension, awestruck by the sight before them. How could she not feel at least a grain of excitement when the world was spread out before her? For a heartbeat Yaretzi forgot about it all.
Izara shrieked and swooped, amaranthine scales nearly iridescent in the sunlight. They followed one after the other, two sides of the same coin, almost like the yin and yang. Yaretzi craned her neck as they passed under Azulon’s shadow.
“We’re here, we’re in the Fire Nation.” Lu-Ten had forgotten them all. He stood with his arms outstretched, face turned towards the sun, a boyish wonder on his features. “We’re here. We’re home.”
Yaretzi smiled thinly. “Yes,” she said, “we are home.”
Notes:
One thing I wanted to explore was the mental turmoil of doing what is necessary even when it goes against personal moral values. Tsephel and Yaretzi struggle with this throughout.
Chapter 61: A Son of the South (When the Skyline Burns)
Chapter Text
Sokka
Sokka had never imagined war to smell so terribly.
Blood, excrement, and vomit. Smoke. Burnt flesh. Fear.
His stomach roiled at the thought of it. And yet as the Spearhead Atoll drew closer, his blood ran warm with the preparation of war. Katara stood at his side, her hands clutching the ship’s railing until her knuckles were white. This was the Fire Nation. This was the home of the man who had killed their father. The man whose avarice knew no bounds. Sokka raised his head at the sound of the dragons passing overhead. I’d like to see him burnt to a crisp. Or perhaps not. Ozai did boast of being a Phoenix, after all. How many more would burn and suffer in the war that he waged? Sokka swallowed. He had not been able to participate in the battles of Saowan and Kheosho but he had witnessed the carnage all the same. Sokka had seen death. He had seen war. But nothing had prepared him for the sheer brutality that had occurred. The dragons had been deployed and the world had burned. The shores were washed with blood. When his friends returned to the ship, their faces had gone white with terror, their eyes glazed and distant. None of them spoke in much detail of what they had witnessed on the ground and Sokka had not asked. He had found Suki huddled in a corner, vomiting in a bucket, and Touqa had sprawled across the deck with his hands over his ears.
The Spearhead Atoll was shaped like its namesake. The northward side of the island was triangular and gradually expanded. Its geography was a far departure from the rocky topography of Saowan and Kheosho that had made the battles so easy. The Arakemeti and Omashians had crushed the island’s forces with only a hundred casualties of their own while Orashi Eizo’s army was in ruins. A fair number of the surviving officers were prisoners. Sokka snorted to himself. There was a limit on how many men the Prince would massacre. Decimation, a bit more palatable than obliteration I suppose.
“It might’ve been a prettier sight if we weren’t headed towards certain death, no?” The Prince’s brother-by-law, Lallo, drawled as he strode across the deck with his sister and Prince Zuko in tow. In spite of his airy, lackadaisical tone, his expression was somber. Sokka had grown to like the Sun Warrior. His idiosyncrasies made their conversations both pleasant and puzzling, and Sokka felt determined to scour his brain for the biggest words he knew just so he could best the other man in magniloquence. “Well, maybe not certain death but I’d wager it’s going to be a debacle of unprecedented proportions. Not for us, mind you. Lu-Ten’s flagitious uncle will be in for quite a surprise.” He hummed and dipped his head respectfully in Katara’s direction.
“Chief Sokka. Lady Katara.” Yaretzi greeted them politely. Sokka rarely interacted with Lu-Ten’s wife. Suki, Katara, Toph, and Tsephel did, and more than once he saw them huddling together like a gaggle of turtle-ducks.
Zuko remained mum. Sokka took no offense. The man had been maimed by his own father, one could not blame him for being a stick in the mud.
There was a sort of palpable tension that had not been alleviated since they left Zeisan’s Pass. The Arakemeti army had lost two of their best generals, Lords Odoya and Gebre, and the rest of the soldiers were still mourning the loss. Sokka was not blind to the sidelong glances that the Arakemeti threw at the dragon prince nor was he deaf to the hushed and hurried whispers that seemed to follow in Lu-Ten’s wake. Worse than his uncle. Only by Hodan’s orders. The Omashians were, thankfully, fairly apathetic towards the dragonlord. They had pledged their swords to Sokka, and it was only by their joint interest that they fought beside the other kingdom.
Katara softened and Yaretzi’s shoulders visibly relaxed. The priestess was tense after her husband had essentially drugged her into a stupor. I’d be mad, too. Waking up from a poppy-tears induced coma was hell on earth. (Sokka would know from experience.) Katara glanced at the young men, taking note of their pointed looks, and gently took hold of Yaretzi’s elbow. “How about we go join the other girls? It’ll be fun. Even with Toph.”
Sokka smiled softly as his sister led the young woman away. It was difficult to believe that Katara and Yaretzi were only a scant few years apart. One was a priestess turned queen, and a mother to boot. The other was his sister. Granted she was the Avatar but that didn’t count. It had led to nonsensical arguments where each of them threw their titles at each other. ‘I’m the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe!’ ‘Yea, well I’m the Avatar!’
Just like the good old days.
Sokka turned his wheelchair to face the two firebenders. Lallo’s ludic disposition had been replaced by a frown that creased the corners of his mouth. Zuko’s expression was dark and brooding. Sokka waited. “If it’s good news and bad news, just give me the bad one first.”
Lallo’s smirk was a sardonic one. “I have been told you are quite an engineer. Let’s say, for example, the fleet came under attack by airships…how quickly could you forge some sort of safeguard? Nothing too fancy, of course, but efficient. In addition to this… ahhh…selcouth vessel that awaits us in the caldera, Prince Zuko has made mention of a possible cohort of airships. Armored airships, I might add.”
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head in exasperation. “It’s a possibility,” he said, “General Jizai had commissioned a smaller sect of the Ministry of Development to design a number of primitive airships. Two or three at most, but they’ve never flown before. My father saw it more prudent to invest in the rail lines and other infrastructural projects, so the idea never really got off the ground.” He smiled wryly. “But my father is also growing desperate. I don’t doubt that he would deploy them. And if my sister is on the island, and I have reason to believe that she is, then she will launch them. They’re slow, but powerful.”
“Zuko, friend, don’t you think it pertinent to reveal these things before we face them?” It was a joke, but it came out sharper than Sokka had expected. “There’s no way we can design any sort of defensive system on such short notice.” He tapped his fingers against the arms of his wheelchair. “There’s only three…” But if the airships were deployed right as they launched the invasion, it would be a fiasco. No one had ever encountered such flying vessels. At least not military aircraft. The most elite earthbenders had the prowess and accuracy to shoot them down. And they did have the dragons. His stomach turned. They had laid waste to the islands, carving black scars on the shores that would never heal. Sokka had seen the carnage left in Izon’s wake. Death had come from above.
As if hearing his thoughts, Lallo inhaled. “I love the ingenuity of youth.” He clapped Zuko on the shoulder. “Lu-Ten is keen on just torching the whole island. If the princess is leading the charge then it would be killing three birds with one stone. Sorry, Zuko. Or rather, killing multiple thousands of birds with one stone. For the sake of my sanity and that of my sister’s, I’d rather not go to bed haunted by the image of children burnt in their beds.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve seen,” Sokka chaffed. “Commander Zhao killed my father and then tried to burn IcePoint to the ground. And besides, historically Water Tribe wars haven’t been pretty. I’ve heard of more savage stuff. One of my own ancestors drowned an entire island.” He twisted his lips. “Doesn’t get much worse than that.”
Lallo tutted. “I beg to differ. Our people used to sacrifice other humans to the dragons and feed them human hearts.”
Sokka held up a finger. “Y’know, I’ll let you have that one.” Prince Zuko squirmed, clearly itching to flee or hide away in his own skin. “There’ll have to be a change of course. When the first waves of earthbenders hit the shore and a pathway is secured, my bloodsworn will infiltrate the military base. Rojhan knows how a base is set up, he can join them. If the Fire Nationers are like anyone else, then the generals will be inside. So will the airships. We could hijack one and take out the others.”
The Sun Warrior threw his hands up in praise. “You’re brilliant! Do you hear this, Zuko? Let’s meet with the generals to propose the idea.”
The young Tribesman could not protest before Lallo had taken hold of the handles of his wheelchair. Lallo’s sense of urgency made it evident that something was amiss, which technically something had been amiss since the day Zhao slit Hakoda’s throat, but perhaps even more so. They blazed through the inner corridor of the flag ship, led by Prince Zuko. It was a premeditated union, for sure, and Sokka was certain that he would’ve been brought along for the ride whether he wanted to or not.
He was brought to the conference room where their war councils had been held ever since they left SunWatch. True to his assumptions, he was greeted by Lu-Ten, Dejen, and Tenoch, as well as Lady Sagal of Arakem. Their faces were drawn, still mourning the loss of Odoya and Gebre. Sagal, especially. She was the most experienced after the two and had absorbed their cohorts into her own. Upon their entrance, Sagal dipped her head in respect and then flashed a painfully maternal smile. A genuine smile, one that made her dark green eyes glimmer, and for a brief heartbeat Sokka felt at ease. It was short-lived.
Lu-Ten was scowling. But when did he not? Sokka thought. He had only seen the man truly at peace in the presence of his adored wife. The firebender straightened his shoulders and greeted Sokka with a halfhearted mumble of “Chief.” His eyes snapped over to Lallo and Zuko. “I take it that you have briefed Sokka on the most recent developments?” He gestured for Sokka to take a seat at his side.
Sokka noted that it was impossible for his wheelchair to fit between the already seated advisers. He swallowed. Lu-Ten watched him expectantly, his amber eyes boring into him, and Sokka realized that it was a test. We’re on the same side! Sokka curled his lips before bracing himself against the arms of the wheelchair, pushing his body up and grabbing onto the back of Sagal’s chair. He grunted as his weight settled on his prosthetic, feeling the ball joint flex. For convenience he utilized the chair, coupled with the fact that the ocean waves made him nauseous and unsteady when walking. Sokka dug his fingers into the wood, swatting Sagal’s hand away when she reached out for his elbow.
“Chief Sokka, please, allow me to-”
“I don’t need help,” he snapped out through gritted teeth. Lord Dejen shrank back. He shuffled past the Arakemeti before standing next to Tenoch. The older Sun Warrior looked on apologetically. So that’s how it would be then. They would put their barely controlled dog on the Fire Nation throne and let the rest of the world walk on edge. Still better than Ozai. Sokka held Lu-Ten’s penetrative stare as he dropped into the seat next to him. Lu-Ten was the first to blink. “Alrighty! So where were we?”
The elders looked at each other, perhaps hoping that someone else would speak first. Sagal exhaled. “Well. After Prince Zuko’s revelation, it is imperative that we adjust our plans.” She pointed to the map of the Spearhead Atoll that was pinned to the table. “While Lallo and Prince Zuko went to fetch you, we determined that we could still advance without too much rearrangement of the troops.” Sagal dragged her finger over the map. The Arakemeti were not a seafaring people, not like the Fire Nation or the Tribesmen. Outside of the merchant class and the military, very few people had ever seen the ocean in all its glory. Many of the younger soldiers had gotten sea-sick in the first weeks, exacerbated by the never ending carnage that followed. “We will strike first on the southern side of the island where the army is most concentrated and work our way inward. I anticipate there will be some urban warfare as well.” Lady Sagal’s lips twitched. “It will be inevitable.”
From the information that Sokka had gleaned, the southern half was forested with spindly trees that thrived in the salt spray. The rest of the island was urbanized. According to Zuko it boasted the third highest population of the country and served as the principal military base for the Fire Nation army. Rojhan admitted that he had trained there and that he was familiar with the setup of the base. Fort Chaeryu was a sprawling, walled, city within a city that dominated the lives of the locals. To live on the Spearhead Atoll was to serve Fort Chaeryu in any capacity. Be it as a soldier or a cook or a woman of the red curtains. “Civilian casualties will be inevitable,” the turncoat had said somberly, “the people of the Atoll will die before they surrender.”
Lu-Ten exhaled. “So be it then. It’s better for the vermin to kill themselves before we sully our armor with their blood. My primary goal is to neutralize the Phoenix Princess by any means necessary.”
Tenoch’s eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline. Dejen seemed to age five years. Lallo coughed into his hand to cover his gasp of dismay. Zuko remained carefully stoic.
Sokka sat back against the chair. His father had once told him of the devastation that a civil war would bring upon a nation. Bloodlines will burn and men will die. The snow may fall but the scars would remain frozen in time. And men will forget why they were slaying their brothers in the first place.
Lady Sagal sighed. “Civil wars are always the bloodiest. There is no greater pain than watching brother fight brother. They called it the Long Sorrow, when a branch of the hyeagles rose up against each other. Cities went up in flames or collapsed under the weight of falling mountains. For four generations they warred. Let us hope that the dragons’ dance ends with you.” The earthbender turned back to face the sea. “It ends here.”
Lu-Ten turned his attention to his young cousin. “Your sister has a choice, cousin.” He lifted his chin. ‘So do you’ went unspoken. “So here is what I propose. Izon and I will clear the way for the first wave of earthbenders. The Air Nomad’s reconnaissance mission revealed that they have more anti-dragon weaponry. Yaretzi will mount Izara to disable as many as they can.” Sokka did not miss the way that Lu-Ten’s eyes gleamed. “The neutralization of the threat will fall into your hands, Prince Zuko.”
The scarred Prince looked up, his one good eye widening. The implication dawned on them all. If his sister was truly leading the islanders, then Lu-Ten was charging Zuko with the task of facing his own sister.
Sokka could not imagine facing Katara in battle. It was inconceivable, even during the worst of their quarrels and kerfuffles.
Zuko held his cousin’s glare with a smoldering one of his own. “My sword is yours,” he said venomously and for a heartbeat it was as if the two of them had forgotten that others were still in the room.
Two hours later, Sokka finally found himself back in his room surrounded by the entirety of his friends. Katara, Suki, Toph, and Tsephel sat on one side of the room and Sokka’s bloodsworn warriors huddled with Rojhan and Jet. Zuko joined them, a certain pallor having fallen over his features that suggested he was on the verge of becoming ill.
“So what you’re telling me, Chief, is that the dragonlord is a real loony-” Touqa yelped as Mika clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Don’t say it so loud, stupid!” The waterbender hissed.
Toph pressed her lips into a tight smile. “He’s not the only one on this ship who’s thinking it. Right, Zuko?” Even though she could not see, her pale eyes seemed to pin him all the same. “Queenie thinks so too. They all do.” She sat on the floor at Suki’s knee, having at some point taken on the role of the pugnacious younger sister. “I heard them talking about it one night on the deck right after Saowan.”
Jet sighed. “I miss the simpler days.”
“Yeah, when you were a thief.” Katara teased before sobering. “But our opinion of him doesn’t matter. We’re all in this to stop Ozai. Things will change once the war is over.”
Mika kissed his teeth. “If you say so,” he voiced what the others were afraid to say, “if you say so.”
————
The battle began at dawn. Lu-Ten and Izon took off into the sunrise, a red shadow of death that would soon rain down destruction and fire to the Spearhead Atoll. They were followed closely by magenta Izara and a visibly hesitant Yaretzi. Sokka felt a pang of sympathy at the pallor that washed over her copper brown face. Yet she had done as she was bid, flying into the skies towards the island and the armada trailed behind.
“Do you remember when we were little and we used to play at being warriors?” Mika offered a thin smile. “And we thought it was a good idea to wander out into the snow?” He gazed out at the sea. “And I remember the vast white. It just felt like it went on forever and ever. And we wanted to conquer it all.”
“Aye, we had the right idea.” Touqa chuckled. “Fat-head Sokka couldn’t get his directions right and we almost ended up in the expanse. And Kunip was in Wolf’s Cove with his kin and Mika was the only one smart enough to use waterbending to make our way back home.” He tossed a look of fraternal love at the waterbender. “Look at us now.”
Sokka swallowed. Some were missing. Living on only in their memories. Pauqa. His friend had died a warrior’s death, fighting for his Tribe and his Chief, facing an enemy with pride and honor.
The assault soon began in earnest. Izon and Izara had torched the coastline, leaving a charred path through the southernmost point of the island that advanced steadily to Fort Chaeryu. The earthbenders followed on foot and on the backs of beasts, having already assembled the piles of boulders and smaller stones that would be launched as they came in contact with the Fire Nationers. Sokka’s stomach churned as he realized that not all of the smoke came from Izon and Izara’s flames. The Fire Nationers had assembled defensive obstacles that were lit by firebenders, keeping the earthbenders at bay. They had also dug pits that had been filled with spikes as long as Sokka’s arm. The first line of men fell into them, impaling themselves on the sticks. The second wave clambered over them, swathed in rock armor. The dragons loomed over the armies, throwing the shoreline into shadow. Sokka’s heart thundered against the walls of his chest as he watched. Izon swooped low, clearing a path with his claws and breath, tossing firebenders aside like ragdolls and crushing their bones with his teeth. Izara was not far behind. She slapped men aside with her tail and gnashed at others. The dragons were indomitable weapons of destruction. For every man that faced them, two fell dead.
Mika was shaking. He was to use his waterbending to propel them to the Fort, flanked by Rojhan and Toph to provide ground cover while Tsephel and Dache flew above. Once the location of the airships was confirmed then Katara would join them with Lusa. And Sokka would join her.
Sokka involuntarily ground his teeth. It was the first time in months that he wore armor. The colors of his Tribe: dark blue, white, and black and his helm was the shape of a wolf’s skull. His trusty boomerang hung from his belt. Were it not for his leg, Sokka might have felt normal. His father would be proud.
“I envy Yanik right about now,” Touqa broke the tense silence, “cooped up in SunWatch playing babysitter to a fat little baby. It’s good for him, playing with the dogs and watching that little mite crawl around.”
“Sozin is still too young to crawl,” Kunip said absently. “Didn’t you ever pay attention to any of your aunts?”
Touqa snorted. “Ah well it never crossed my mind to pay much attention to the young’uns.” His cheeks flushed. “That’s what fathers do. And…I never thought I’d be one.”
Sokka glanced sidelong at his friend. He had never thought Touqa to be the sentimental type. Then again, Touqa had always been brash and boisterous, hiding his true heart behind a shield of cockalorum. He patted Touqa’s shoulder.
Izara’s pink and green fire flashed like lightning. A single fireball shot upwards and burst into spirals that shimmered like stars. “That’s our signal,” Mika exhaled, his blue eyes darkening. He clenched his fists before drawing water from the ocean below them. He held Sokka’s gaze before giving a final nod.
Dache soared overhead as Mika conjured the sea to his command and leapt over the railing of the ship. He reappeared some feet away, hovering over a surfboard that he had fashioned from the waves. He was joined by Toph and Rojhan, along with Kunip and Touqa. Sokka’s bloodsworn turned to face him and saluted him one more time before they were propelled away, becoming little more than blue dots that grew smaller and smaller still.
Sokka realized he was trembling.
The Spearhead Atoll had become a smoking hellscape. The dragons continued to bombard the coastline as more and more soldiers piled onto the shores from the landing crafts, trampling the Fire Nation troops underfoot as they formed beachheads while others rearranged the very landscape of the island with their earthbending. Sokka counted his breaths, acutely aware of Suki’s comforting presence to the right of him. She, too, had painted her face in the traditional way of her island, almost the embodiment of Kyoshi herself, and Sokka found it ironic that he stood beside one of Kyoshi’s descendants and her reincarnation at the same time. How many chieftains could say they met almost every world leader? The epithet ‘the Diplomat’ was already taken by Chief Anatoku some two hundred years ago. Oh well, there was still time.
Lusa rumbled anxiously. Katara rubbed the leopard caribou’s neck to calm her, whispering comforting words in her ear. She had been suited up for battle, complete with boiled leather armor over her chest and head. Katara was almost cloaked in a black cuirass and shin guards, and her hair had been pulled into two braids. She set her jaw in determination, her deep blue eyes gazing into something far away. She did it more often than not, as if she was leaving her body behind, and in those moments she was no longer his sister.
‘Don’t waste your time trying to save a world that’s gone to shit.’
‘Let it be someone else’s problem.’
‘I am the someone else!’
Sokka looked at his sister and thought that mayhaps she resembled their father more than he did. Perhaps not physically, no, but their father had never bent his knees. He was a Polar Bear Dog, never giving into the cruel cold nor the enemy. She was a Polar Bear Dog.
We are Polar Bear Dogs.
The young warrior strengthened his resolve and tightened his grip on his boomerang. Tsephel would return to carry them to the fort once a foothold was established and Sokka would use his ingenuity to dismantle the airships. He could not mistrust himself. He could not falter.
All too soon the flying bison appeared over the ship. Tsephel peered over the edge of the saddle, her brown face streaked with soot. “Well, there’s airships alright! No sign of the prince’s sister. Not yet at least.” Dache dropped lower as Katara hitched her mount to the contraption on Dache’s belly and pulled herself up and over the edge of the saddle. Suki climbed up after her. Tsephel waved her hand to stir a breeze under Sokka’s feet, lifting him gently until he was able to grasp the airbender’s hand. She lifted him with surprising ease and helped him sit before turning in a swish of yellow and orange robes.
“Now’s not the time for any new special tricks,” Tsephel drawled, “Jet’s somewhere with the First Spears, don’t make him blunder across the whole island because you decided to suddenly start glowing.” Her grin was a mischievous one. She turned, snapped Dache’s reins. “Y’know, that yellow eyed menace isn’t that bad of a fighter. But Toph is like a one man army! She sent firebenders flying left and right.” Admiration crept into her voice. “The scariest twelve year old I’ve ever seen.”
Suki smiled. She and Toph had found a rapport with each other. “Well, she did say she’s going to be the greatest earthbender ever.”
Dache carried them over the southern edge of the smoldering island. The battle had moved inward and northward as the Fire Nationers were forced back into Fort Chaeryu and towards the narrow end of the atoll. The stronghold was black and red, constructed in a near-perfect square not unlike SunWatch. The central courtyard was dotted with small fires. Just beyond was another cloister and there Sokka saw the airships.
The ellipsoid airships were massive and unwieldy. The engineers had designed them after hot air balloons, which were not uncommon in any nation, but they were crafted from steel. The front of the airships held a Phoenix crest. As Dache began to descend, Sokka caught sight of his bloodsworn engaging in combat with the Fire Nationers who were desperately trying to get to the aircraft. Kunip spun on his heel, disemboweling a firebender with one clean thrust of his spear. Touqa fell in line with Rojhan, ducking under the turncoat’s flames to slash at their enemies with his sword. Toph, as Tsephel said, was wreaking havoc alone. She sent boulders and shrapnel in every direction, shattering the bones of her opposition and crushing others. Mika moved around her with whips of ice and water, severing limbs and drowning others where they stood.
Katara hit the ground first and began to unhitch Lusa with quick fingers. The leopard caribou roared and pawed at the ground. Sokka braced himself and tilted his body over Dache’s side. He slid down the bison’s flank and landed with a hard plop onto Lusa’s back.
“That was smooth,” Katara smirked and Sokka preened his feathers. Her countenance darkened as she surveyed the chaos unfolding before them. She became the Avatar, not Katara. Katara kicked Lusa’s rib cage and the large feline charged into the fray.
The battle was a blur. Even though the Fire Nationers outnumbered them, it was evident that Sokka’s team were all formidable warriors. This was no battle to incapacitate the enemy. They were fighting to save themselves. They were fighting to kill.
And kill they did.
Izon and Izara dipped and danced overhead, razing the edge of the city and Fort Chaeryu. The devastation continued on the ground and Sokka wondered if the Phoenix King’s army would ever surrender. Part of him was doubtful. They were maddeningly loyal to their psychopath of a leader and would sooner burn themselves alive before bowing to Lu-Ten. Especially if Zuko’s sister was leading them.
Sokka hurled his boomerang, clipping an approaching firebender in the head. The weapon struck the woman’s helm with a reverberating twang. She collapsed and Lusa leaped over her unconscious body, slinging another aside with her antlers.
“Forever and always, Chief.” Mika called out. The sun shone on his wolf’s armor. With a rigid spine he turned on his heel and let out a warrior’s howl. He drew water from his canteen and rushed forward, slicing through the approaching swordsmen with shards of ice, piercing their hearts and slashing through their limbs. His war paint was replaced by blood. When the water evaporated into steam he drew his sword and dove back into the fray.
Without warning Touqa cried out as he dropped to the ground and began to roll in a panicked attempt to extinguish the fire that bit at his clothes. He sobbed in terror and wailed for help. Sokka’s nose was assaulted by the pungent odor of burnt hair.
“Touqa!” Suki sidestepped, gutting the man who had struck Touqa and spilling his entrails in a gruesome pile. Mika turned just as quickly and doused his brother-in-arms with water before the flames could consume him. Touqa began to cry in earnest, his singed body curling around himself. The Kyoshi Warrior dropped to her knees at his side, their brief quarrels forgotten. She rested her hands hesitantly on the young man’s chest. “Mika, help him! Toph, cover him!”
The waterbender pierced a soldier through the throat with a shard of ice. He whirled to face the fallen Tribesman and Toph lunged towards them, bending a stone shield around them. Sokka bit his lip to alleviate the sting of tears that threatened to fall. There was no time. His heart sank. Please, don’t let me fail another one of my brothers. Spirits, have mercy on me for once. He could not forgive himself for leading his friends to their deaths. Especially not Touqa, whom he considered to be one of his closest friends. He loved them all, yet he held Touqa dearest.
But they had to go on.
Lusa tore her way across the courtyard with fang and claw. They left Suki, Mika, and Toph behind. The leopard caribou drew closer to the airships. They were metal behemoths, even uglier up close and their turbine engines whirred as they struggled to rise. Clouds of dust swirled about. Sokka’s eyes watered and he sputtered. Doubt began to swirl in his mind. I can’t stop them. I don’t know how. We came all this way and I’m going to let the Tribe down. I’m going to let the Order of the White Lotus down. I’m going to let Dad down.
Fueled by the fervor of grief, the Avatar lunged forward. Lusa unleashed a furious roar. Rojhan and the others were not far behind. The Fire Nation defector took the lead, dropping into a spinning kick that sent tongues of yellow-orange flames at the few firebenders left on the ground. Katara guided her mount through the opening and they came to a halt in front of the closest airship. The last of the crew was clinging to the rungs of the ladder, scrambling through the open hatch. Rojhan flung himself forward, wrapping his arms around the man’s ankles and throwing their combined weight onto the ground.
“Don’t just stand there,” the former soldier ground out, “go!”
Katara stepped over the fallen soldiers, dragging Sokka clumsily behind her. “Hey! I’m still kinda learning how to use this fake leg, you know!” Katara climbed the ladder first, reaching behind to pull her brother to his feet.
They were met quickly by a barrage of fireballs from a gray eyed firebender. Katara skirted around her and with a snap of her wrist, the Fire Nationer was encased in ice. Sokka blinked incredulously. His sister had become a warrior. With a brief pang of sadness he realized that there had been no other option.
Metal clanged underfoot as they hurriedly moved through the airship's belly. Its engines whirred almost as if it were growling. The dimmed corridor leading to the cockpit was hot. Sokka swayed as he felt the vessel leave the ground. I’ve earned my sea-legs, might as well go for my sky-legs, too. Well, leg. Katara leaned against him as they hurried through the airship’s belly. They moved as one.
The door was open and the cockpit was (to Sokka’s surprise) unguarded. Katara quickly dispatched the sole pilot, slamming him into the wall and pinning him in a cocoon of ice.
Sokka drew the dagger from his belt and pressed it against the Fire Nationer’s neck. “So. We can do this the easy way. Or we can make your day a lot worse.” A bead of blood appeared on his white throat. “How do you work this thing? Better yet, you do it.”
The airship captain trembled. Sokka gripped his collar, still holding the blade to the man’s throat, and shoved him to the control panel. He swallowed thickly. They were undeniably airborne. Fort Chaeryu and the atoll were below them, little more than smoking towers and columns of men in red and men in black crashing against each other and falling away again. Two man made beasts hovered, staring down at the dragons that flapped their wings in approach.
“Wait.” Katara gulped. “Lu-Ten doesn’t know which ship we’re in.”
Leave it to the White Lotus’s frothing hound to attack indiscriminately. Understandably so, but Sokka had no desire to come all this way just to meet a fiery end. At least not by (questionably) friendly fire.
Sokka stared down at the control panel. “Well…let’s hope he knows to attack the one that’s flying at the others.” He clutched a lever and thrust it forward. The airship jolted and lurched, throwing them against the glass. Sokka, with a softer touch, smiled sheepishly at his smoldering sister. “Okay, at least we know what that one does.” He whirled on their captive. “How do I steer?”
Petrified, the airship’s captain gestured to the helm. Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. He was not a captain, nor had he ever served as a helmsman, but at least this was familiar. He turned the wheel and the vessel drifted towards the others. Sokka eased the acceleration lever higher. Had they not been in the middle of a battle, he might have been mystified.
Katara gasped as Izon crashed into the aircraft furthest from them, shattering the glass with his hind legs. The red dragon tore the ship’s interior, thrusting his head into the broken window. He withdrew, clutching a screaming soldier in his jaws. Sokka watched as the beast crushed the Fire Nationer between his teeth, bones and flesh torn in a macabre spray of blood. Arms and legs fell away, falling to the earth below. Izon slung the corpse away from him. Sokka caught a glimpse of Lu-Ten’s face, painted with gore, and saw that he was smiling.
The morning sky suddenly rippled with lightning.
Sokka involuntarily yanked on the acceleration lever as reflex, causing the trio to stumble forward. He scanned the sky as thunder rolled. There were no storm clouds to be seen. “What was that?!”
Their captive smirked. “Princess Azula.”
“She can bend lightning?!” The Water Tribe siblings exclaimed simultaneously.
“The Phoenix King and his children are amongst the strongest firebenders in the world.” The Fire Nation helmsman said. “She was sent by her father once the Phoenix King caught word of your imminent arrival.”
Zuko was right. Sokka searched the ground for the source of the lightning bolt. It had originated from the other side of the fort where the fighting was thickest. Powerful bender or not, the Phoenix Princess could not withstand the pressure of master earthbenders and a dragon.
Hopefully.
Izon flew away from the aircraft as it plummeted to the ground, having been compromised by the ruined windshield. It spiraled as it fell, bursting into flames and shrapnel. Lu-Ten and Izon had turned their attention to the second airship. They paid little mind to the whip of electricity that had soared past them. Izon clawed at the glass, dragging the Fire Nation soldiers through the hole he had created, leaving their skin lacerated. He tore them apart with fang and talon until they were unrecognizable as once-human.
The three of them, prisoner included, gaped in horror. Sokka swallowed thickly as the dragon turned his sight onto them. “Shit,” Sokka cursed under his breath. Psycho firebending princess to the left, psycho dragonrider to the right. “Well this didn’t go according to plan.” The only way out was forward. And to hope that Lu-Ten would realize they were not the enemy. He held Katara’s stare. If this is how it’s going to end, then at least we’ll go out together.
Sokka rammed the lever.
The airship launched through the air in the direction of the dragon. Izon roared. His massive wingspan extended fully, engulfing the ground below in red shadow. He rose to meet them with his claws poised to rip at the airship’s frame. If we die, then we die together.
They flew above the shoreline of the atoll where the launch boats had docked. Sokka clenched the guiding wheel. His palms were sweaty.
Lu-Ten’s countenance was flushed with bloodlust and his eyes were gleaming even from a distance. Sokka ground his teeth as Katara shoved their trembling prisoner aside and draped her arms around his waist. Izon opened his maw and fire formed at his throat, glowing white and orange. Sokka pressed against the side glass.
The dragon’s fire rolled towards them in a kaleidoscopic inferno, red and gold and white. The ship was blasted backwards by the intense heatwave and began to spiral. Sokka felt Katara latch onto him. The glass began to splinter under the immense pressure, forming spider-like cracks that spread. The bolts holding the control panel began to rattle.
Katara clung to Sokka and her eyes glowed white.
The aircraft exploded.
Sokka screamed as Katara kicked away from the collapsing vessel. Her hold on him was nearly superhuman. She was not Katara. She had entered that strange Avatar State, more god than human, and her mind was no longer her own. Katara gripped his wrist with one hand as the other worked in wide circles, calling the water up to her. The Avatar plunged them into the water. In one fluid motion of her hands, she formed a chrysalis around them. Sokka flailed helplessly as his sister churned her legs, propelling them up.
They burst through the surface in a spray and were thrown onto the sand. Sokka sputtered and coughed. Katara stood feet away from him, swaying on her feet. She gathered herself and the ethereal white in her eyes faded away as she left the Avatar State. Her chest heaved. With fear, Sokka knew, and anger.
Katara turned back to help him to his feet. She slung his arm over her shoulders. “We have to get back to the others!” She searched the clouds for the dragons and Tsephel. Izara was farthest away, barely more than a purple dot on the horizon. Izon circled the smoking ruins of the fallen airships. Shot down before they could even rise from the ground. Lu-Ten turned the flying serpent back to the source of the lightning strikes, even though Sokka could no longer see them arcing across the sky. Had circumstances been different, Sokka would’ve taken the time to pry Zuko’s mind about these mysterious firebending abilities. Lightning. Combustion. Burning people from the inside out. Scary stuff.
A low rumble signaled Dache descending from the clouds. The flying bison dove to the ground, her mistress leaning over the edge of the saddle. Tsephel rolled her wrist, casting a gush of wind that lifted them from the ground just as Dache made a pass. The Air Nomad was in a disarray, her eyes wild and hair frazzled.
“I was helping Jet and the earthbenders,” she reported breathlessly, “the whole island is surrounded by the army. I saw the airships and I tried to make it as fast as I could.” Her shoulders shook as she took a ragged breath. “Spirits, Katara, can you please tell someone before you decide to just fall from the sky?!” Tsephel brushed her hair from her face. Her smile resembled a grimace.
Katara made a noncommittal hum. Dache climbed into the clouds and began to circle the lower half of the atoll. Tsephel had spoken true. The Spearhead Atoll was effectively closed off from the archipelago. The dragonlord’s armies occupied nearly every open area on the coast, dragon banners steadily moving towards the military fortress and the fallen city. The wind carried a song of screams and clashing metal.
The Air Nomad continued her recount. “Wonder Boy is with Lady Sagal. They were following behind Yaretzi until they came face to face with the Phoenix Princess.” She wrinkled her nose. “All these firebenders and no one told me that they could shoot lightning. You picked the wrong turncoat to join our team, Katara. Rojhan can’t do anything like that. Just useless.” Her tone softened. “I hope he's alright, though.”
Katara rubbed circles around her temples and groaned in exasperation. “Will you please just kiss him when this is over?!”
“Y’know, Suki said that all good adolescent romances have to have a fair amount of mutual pining.” Sokka tossed out flippantly.
Tsephel let out a wordless grumble.
It was odd to find a small moment of humor when they were in the middle of a battle. It was grounding in a sense. The world was crumbling into a heap of smoke and chaos, but there was a glimmer of hope that Sokka could only hope would continue to grow. Besides, a couple near-death experiences were good for building character. Twenty years from now he would boast that he jumped out of a burning airship.
Dache let out a rolling cry. She banked into a wide circle. Sokka realized that she was turning back towards the island. A single Fire Nation speedboat carrying the Phoenix King’s banner was hurriedly fleeing the atoll, tearing across the water in the direction of the caldera. The firebenders had begun to fall back, unable to maintain their positions with the earthbenders closing in and the dragons overhead. They had lost all of their airships and their watercraft were sinking. Sokka wondered how true they would remain to their convictions. Death before dishonor.
“Take us back to the others, Tsephel.”
Sokka knew that his bloodsworn were defending themselves well. They were the sons of the ice and the snow, of the cold winds and raging seas. They were blood and salt and winter. And they would fight for him with club and spear until their last breath.
Dache made her way back to where they had left their companions. Dots of blue and green gradually became larger as the bison extended her legs to brace for the landing. The Tribesmen parted to allow the flying bison to land. Sokka stared at them all. They were battered (but alive). Tsephel sprang from the saddle and crossed the distance in five airbending-assisted steps. She stopped in front of Rojhan, searching his soot-stained face. With a curt nod of approval, the Air Nomad retreated a step. “Good,” Sokka heard her whisper, “you’re alive.”
For a heartbeat Sokka felt as though he was intruding. The turncoat and the nomad had eyes only for each other, fatigued as they were. Sokka looked for Suki.
The Kyoshi Warrior leaned heavily against Kunip. Her skin had taken on a pallor. At her feet knelt Mika hunched over a burned Touqa, whose body was as red as cooked meat, moaning for death. Toph stood anxiously just to the side of him, looking very much like the child that she was. She had bitten her bottom lip and Sokka saw specks of blood.
“Touqa!” He cried out. Katara brushed him aside mindlessly, dropping to her knees at Mika’s side. The two waterbenders hovered over the young warrior. Mika gingerly turned Touqa onto his back. The true extent of his injuries became evident. His right side had taken the brunt of the attack, leaving his skin charred and weeping. Half of his hair was burned away, falling into crumbling heaps underneath him. Katara and Mika summoned water to their hands. The liquid began to shimmer and glow as they moved in tandem, passing the water over Touqa’s body.
“He won’t make it.” Toph whispered. She bundled closer to Kunip and instinctively the older man pulled her against him, having accepted the cocksure earthbender as one of their own. “He won’t make it.”
“Don’t say that!” Mika spat. His voice wavered and cracked. “He is!”
He had to. Sokka began to pray to whatever god listening. He hoped that their ancestors could hear him even so far away. “Come on, Touqa.”
Touqa’s eyes fluttered open and he let out a ragged breath. Katara and Mika parted to give him space. “Chief…” his voice rattled. “Chief.”
Sokka moved to his childhood companion’s side and crouched unsteadily. He reached for Touqa’s hand, finding it both hot and cold all at once. The skin was blistered beyond repair. “I’m here, Touqa.” He choked on the words. Touqa squeezed his hand weakly. “Forever and always, yeah?”
“Aye, forever and always, fat-head.” Touqa’s eyes were streaming. Sokka wiped at his face with the gentleness one would give a newborn and stifled his sob. Touqa’s chest heaved. “I’m ready to go back home.”
The others had fallen away. They hung their heads. The Spearhead Atoll had begun to surrender. White banners began to fly behind them as the Fire Nation army counted their dead. Sokka turned his attention back to his bloodsworn friend. His brother by oath. “We’re all going to be back home once this is all over with.” Sokka blinked rapidly. “All of us.” He winced as he sat, pulling Touqa’s head into his lap.
Touqa smiled sadly, his gaze far away. “I kissed Katara, y’know. Way back then. Terrible experience…” he chuckled and then began to cough. “I did a damn good job handling those firebenders for you, Chief. I love you like a real brother, Sokka…By spear and oath. Forever…and always.”
Sokka sobbed openly as Touqa’s burned body went limp and he relaxed against him. Touqa’s confession had not registered. It didn’t matter. “I love you too, Touqa. By spear and oath,” Sokka repeated. And then Touqa was gone and the last thing Sokka saw of him was his pale eyes sparkling with sadness and pride.
Notes:
I originally planned for Mika to be the one to die. RIP Touqa. You were a real one.
Chapter 62: All Men Must Choose
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
The Spearhead Atoll had become the Atoll of Ashes. The island had raised the flags of surrender after the Water Tribe chief had dismantled the airships and the dragons turned half of Fort Chaeryu into smoldering metal. The victory was a bitter one. Lu-Ten dared not think of the losses that had occurred. Some nine hundred men had died, mainly in the initial charge before the Fire Nationers were overwhelmed by the onslaught of earthbenders and dragons. Nine hundred sons and daughters, but casualties were inevitable. He had not bothered to count how many firebenders had perished. Civilians and soldiers alike. Ants, he thought, unfortunately crushed under the weight of the wheel of war. Perhaps victory would’ve been sweeter had they managed to capture and kill Zuko’s sister. Lu-Ten had to admit that the bitch princess was clever. She had escaped on a speedboat before Izon could pursue. Three of her personal guards were captured and detained. Three more had become piles of ash. Lu-Ten had considered tossing the women to the bloodthirsty men and leaving them to their fate.
Yaretzi stood on the beach, staring pensively at the waves and the way the sun glimmered over the ocean. The armada rose up as black dots on the horizon. She had removed her armor and wrapped her arms around herself. Her hair fluttered in the wind.
Lu-Ten made his way over the rock and sand. Yaretzi turned her head to look at him from the corner of her eye. He offered a smile that she did not return. She had not forgiven him. Perhaps understandably so, but Lu-Ten had given her the poppy tears for her own benefit. He could not bear the sight of her so distraught. Lu-Ten put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was so much smaller. So perfect, he thought, and she has given me a perfect son. A wave of sadness struck him. He missed Sozin dearly, though he knew that their prince was safer in SunWatch, defended by men and women that would kill for him.
Still his wife did not speak. Using Izara to conquer the islands had wounded her spirit. Izon, on the other hand, had obeyed the uncrowned Fire Lord with glee.
“I’m sorry.”
Yaretzi averted her eyes.
Lu-Ten tried again. “It will be over soon, I promise. We’ll have our son in our arms. And you’ll have a crown on your head. I’ll have it made just for you.”
“I do not want a crown.” Her voice, normally so soft, crackled with venom.
With a sharp intake of breath, Lu-Ten suppressed his ire. “Yaretzi…I don’t want to do this. I don’t enjoy this war.” It was a lie, they both knew. The dragon on Lu-Ten’s shoulder enticed him, hungering for the taste of death, and invoked a rage in him that Lu-Ten struggled to keep at bay. “Please, you must understand. This is what I must do. My uncle’s army has to be crippled. And he must die.” Zuko’s sister as well, if she refused to surrender and denounce her claim. She was the biggest threat. Lu-Ten had never seen lightning-bending before, and she had caught him unaware when she nearly shot Izon down from the sky.
She had escaped alongside a handful of her commanders, tearing away on a speedboat before anyone could pursue.
Perhaps the waterbenders could have, but they were too busy mourning one of their own. Lu-Ten could only vaguely recall the fallen young warrior. He had died a true man’s death, surrounded by enemies and dragging them with him even as he died. Prince Zuko had lit the funeral pyre and Yaretzi had blessed his soul with the rites of the Sun Warriors, quietly apologizing for having led the young man to his demise. The Tribesmen would take his ashes back home and return him to the sea.
The priestess did not respond. It was perhaps her silence that stung the most. She did not deign to speak to him. Her dark eyes, which always met his own with adoration, were cold chips of flint.
“You hate me.” Lu-Ten swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “You think I’m a monster.”
Immediately his wife’s mien shifted. Her face fell as she grabbed his hands. “No, no, no. Please. I could never hate you. Even if I wanted to, I could not.” She had often said that the goddess Citlali had ordained her to be a dragonkeeper. It was her life’s work and she would not waver. “I only hope that…” Yaretzi paused. “I pray that you will be the man that we all wish for you to be.”
He would be that and more.
Lu-Ten crushed her against his chest and buried his face in her hair, breathing in the sweet smell of soap and sea salt. Yaretzi wrapped her arms around him and sank into his embrace. How could he ever have shunned her? He had ignored her for all those years, concerned more with the delights that came with being a young man. Tears stung his eyes.
“There will come a day,” Yaretzi had said, “where you shall make the decision to be a man or a dragon.”
Did it truly matter, if they would hate him the same?
I choose the dragon.
He did not linger. He left his wife where she stood, allowing her to return to her thoughts, and made his way through the army encampment that had been assembled along the shoreline. A far number of soldiers had taken advantage of the amenities that the army base offered. Fort Chaeryu was the biggest military base in the Fire Nation territories. At its peak, the military installation had the ability to sustain nearly fifty thousand personnel within its walls, though Prince Zuko (such a bore) claimed that the army had never held such a large concentration of men in one place for long.
The fighting had been thickest there, and many of their casualties had occurred in the early hours of storming the fortress. They had surrendered only after General Jizai met his unfortunate end, crushed, disemboweled, and then torn apart by a dragon. The sparagmos had been euphoric, watching Izon tear through bone with his fangs after Lu-Ten had cut the man from one side of his rib cage to the other. Inside the fort they had executed those who refused to kneel. Civilians and soldiers alike. No children.
No harming children. The soldiers were forbidden to rob or harm anyone who flew a banner of defeat. Rape was punishable by castration. But they were free to loot so long as they did not cause bodily injury.
It had not taken long for the innocents of the Spearhead Atoll to craft dragon banners from strips of cloth and drape them over the windowsills or use chalk or charcoal to draw hasty sketchings of the character for peace. Blinds remained shuttered as thousands of Earth Kingdom soldiers passed through the streets and beasts of fire flew overhead. Mass funerals had been held at approved gathering sites, supervised by invading generals. Lu-Ten was no tyrant. He allowed the islanders to grieve their lost loved ones and adhere to the Fire Nation customs that still seemed so foreign to him.
Fort Chaeryu’s primary tower was like all other Fire Nation architecture. Black pagodas and high guard walls that wound like a maze before opening into the four courtyards. It was there where he found Prince Zuko, the Tribesman, and the Avatar huddled close to Tenoch, pouring over a missive. The messenger hawk still perched on Tenoch’s shoulder and he used his free hand to preen the raptor’s head.
Surely they were not conspiring against him?
Lu-Ten swallowed his displeasure and strode towards them.
The Avatar’s blue eyes swiveled to him first, carefully unreadable, and Lu-Ten balked. She was perhaps truly the most powerful person in the world. In the universe. He knew that if she so chose then she could end him (in all sorts of ways, really, all of them equally horrendous). Her crippled brother followed her lead. Zuko was the last to face him. Lu-Ten quirked a brow.
“Lu-Ten. Erm, Fire Lord Lu-Ten.” Tenoch greeted him. The others, including his cousin (who lived only because Lu-Ten allowed him) merely nodded.
“I see we’ve received news.” Lu-Ten gestured with his chin to the letter. It bore a White Lotus seal. “From SunWatch?”
Tenoch shook his head. “No, but Tsughara writes that all is well. Prince Sozin is well protected and well spoiled.” He smiled at the mention of his grandchild. “This letter comes from a different friend.” He passed the paper to Lu-Ten and stepped back expectantly.
‘The flaming bird continues to pluck feathers from its own wings and the updraft that once held it aloft has since grown cold. Lesser birds question its superiority. Hunger and fear make even the most tranquil of sparrowkeets vicious and volatile.
Our beloved Lady of Lavender has at last gone through her last bloom. In her wake sprouts a new flower. An ice lily amidst fire and smoke. A bloom that is most beloved by mice and men alike, whose petals are white as winter.
It seems that favor has fallen to this ice lily and the shadow of the flaming bird has grown dim.’
Lu-Ten read it again and then once more. It was not the most esoteric message that the robed geriatrics had sent. He looked at Zuko. “This is about your wife.”
“It took a real scholar to figure that one out.” The Chief muttered to his sister the Avatar and the two suppressed giggles.
Zuko nodded.
“And your informant has died… Tenoch, spare me these riddles and tell it true.” Lu-Ten pinched the bridge of his nose.
Tenoch sighed. “The Phoenix King has begun to act erratically. Issuing edicts of strict curfews, restricting passage between islands, increasing taxes on the caldera. Executing men who were once his allies- sometimes their wives and children included. Without his wife to temper his…lack of constraint, it seems that he has begun to turn the people against him. According to Lady Maiko, before her unfortunate prosecution, Princess Yue assumed the mantle as the Queen of the Fire Nation in all but name-”
Lu-Ten snorted. “So what? The Phoenix decided his son’s little wife is a better mistress than a well-bred Fire Nationer? It was better to make her into a whor-”
“Shut up.” Zuko’s glare had gone hot. He took a menacing step toward the older firebender. “Keep Yue’s name out of your mouth.”
He loves her. Lu-Ten was taken aback by the intensity of his cousin’s reaction. He held his hand up in apology. “I’m sorry,” he repented, “it was a poor choice of words.” If a man had called Yaretzi a whore then he would have skinned them alive. If a man had dared violate her then Lu-Ten would’ve pulled the bastard’s entrails through his mouth. “But she has sided with my craven uncle in any case. Surely, Tenoch, one of your people could investigate?”
The Sun Warrior shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Our only agent in the capital was Lady Maiko. She was the only one left alive after Prince Iroh’s passing. Princess Yue is intelligent. If she can keep the adoration of the people then she will have the guarantee of her own safety. I have no doubt that she will throw open the doors of the palace once we arrive.”
“But if there’s no one to smuggle her out when we invade, she’s going to the Bird King’s last bargaining chip. Well, that’s if he even wants to bargain at that point. One more loss and he might just…” Sokka spread his hands and made the sounds of an explosion.
“We have to get her out of there,” Katara said.
Lu-Ten glanced at Prince Zuko. “We will,” he swore, “I will not allow that cretinous disgrace to lay another hand on her head. I swear it on the shared blood in our veins.” He gripped Zuko’s forearm and willed him to meet his gaze. “And if I fall short, cousin, then you will be the one to have the honor of feeding him to Izon.”
Tell me, little cousin, would you do it? If you were to meet your father or sister in battle, would you strike first to save yourself? Zuko was honorable, perhaps too honorable if Lu-Ten was to judge. But with honor came loyalty, and even after seeing thousands of men falter when they caught sight of him, the former Crown Prince had remained steadfast during the battle. With whom would Zuko side if he had to face his kin and his precious Northerner bride?
Katara departed with her brother, heading back towards the quarters of the fort that their faction occupied. Lu-Ten tracked their movements until they were out of sight before returning his attention to his cousin and the elder. “I wish to interrogate your sister's friends.” Lu-Ten said. “You will accompany me.”
Zuko, to his credit, did not appear taken aback. Lu-Ten had not bothered to learn the girls’ names, only that two of them were childhood friends of his uncle’s daughter. “What answers do you think they’ll give?”
Lu-Ten shrugged. “Your sister’s whereabouts. The likelihood of her fleeing back to the capital is slim I would think. I’m sure the bird bitch is hiding somewhere in the open waters waiting to try and strike Izon down. I do not like surprises.”
Zuko grimaced at his harsh tone. “My sister is loyal to my father because that’s who raised us,” he said slowly, “and we are all kin. It would serve you well to not insult her.”
The older firebender bristled. “Do you mean to threaten me, Prince Zuko?”
Before Zuko could respond, Tenoch had placed an arm between them. “Tuwa did not raise you to disrespect women. This I know.”
Tenoch was right. Tuwa would skin him alive and string him up to dry if he dared insult her. Lu-Ten exhaled and turned on his heel, making his way into the fortress’s holding cells deep in the winding subterranean halls. The Avatar’s turncoat companion had shown them the layout of the castle after they had conquered the island. Sconces lit the way into the damp underbelly where Omashian and Arakemeti soldiers had replaced the Fire Nation natives. The cells were lined with the high ranking nobles and commanders of the Atoll. In the last sat three young women whose eyes were as large as a cat-owl’s when Lu-Ten and Zuko made their presence known.
One of the women was tall and slender, and had skin so pale that she seemed to glow in the dim light. The second was a black haired waif and the third had native Fire Nation features save for her brown skin. She rubbed at the manacles on her wrists. Lu-Ten watched his cousin’s features. He did not seem inclined to move closer to any of them, suggesting that these girls were perhaps not his sister’s childhood playmates. They had captured the wrong ones then.
“If you’ve come to kill us then make it quick.” The darker skinned firebender spat. The other two women bundled in behind her, as if she had become the de facto leader once the Phoenix Princess had abandoned them. “I didn't think that dragons like to play with their food before they eat it.”
“I won’t kill you.” Lu-Ten returned her hard glare. “But you will tell me where the Phoenix Princess fled to. Whether you do it willingly or by force is up to you.”
The young woman threw up her hands in exasperation. “We don’t know! All I know is that Azula abandoned us when she realized she can’t fight your dragons.”
“Yeah,” said the smaller one with a hint of sadness and anger. “She left us.”
Zuko snorted. “Typical Azula.”
“If you lie then I will have your tongue,” Lu-Ten threatened. “Where is the girl?”
“They really don’t know, Lu-Ten. They don’t know her like Mai and Ty-Lee do.” Zuko interrupted. “That’s why she left them behind. These three are,” he grimaced, “expendable. At least in Azula’s eyes. She might be clever, but she is also predictable. Besides, she likes Yue. And if Yue is alone with my father…” his voice became quiet. No doubt imagining the horrid treatment that was possibly happening to his little wife. Was he picturing his father’s yellow eyed bastard in his wife’s belly, having done what he could not? Or perhaps it pained him to think that the princess had consented to the illicit affair, sharing his father’s bed willingly after their forced shared proximity.
The prisoners watched them warily. Lu-Ten at last gave a stiff nod. “Very well,” he said, “be it on their honor and on their life.” He dismissed Zuko with a snap of his wrist.
Zuko hesitated, taking a half-step forward before looking over his shoulder. Lu-Ten tilted his chin and narrowed his eyes. After a moment more, The younger Prince turned the corner and disappeared. The only sound was the shuffling of his boots on the concrete floor.
Lu-Ten laid a hand on the Omashian guard’s shoulder. He leaned his head against the stout man’s and smiled as he whispered in his ear. “Kill them.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” The guard answered with a nod.
Lu-Ten heard the creaking of the metal door as he walked away, and then he heard the screams.
———-
No one could say that the occupation had hindered the island’s economy. The occupying soldiers, both the Omashians and Arakemeti, took full advantage of the amenities offered. Including the red lantern pleasure houses. Many hot-blooded men were found in the brothels. ‘A satisfied soldier is a level-headed one,’ the older soldiers said, ‘and a level-headed one will always win a war.’
The Avatar’s firebending companion, the turncoat, was well-received by the troops who had surrendered. Lu-Ten found it rather surprising that they would readily accept a traitor, though perhaps they simply had common sense. Rojhan had changed allegiance at the perfect time right as the tides began to turn. He had managed to sway the younger commanders into laying down their arms.
Lu-Ten’s council sat across from him at the War Table in the command room of Fort Chaeryu. Yaretzi was to his left, her fingers interlocked with his own underneath the table. Sagal and five other First Spears had arranged a set of plans on the table, complete with figurines that were red and green. The master earthbender thrummed her fingers against the table in a rhythm that reminded Lu-Ten of the Arakemeti songs he had heard while in Hodan’s palace. The rest of the council, including the Avatar and her brother (yet again), filed in. There was a quiet rustling as they took their places. Sagal stood.
“We have gathered here to solidify the plan for the next battle. Or perhaps if it can be avoided.” Sagal’s smile was grim. “But I fear that the chance for a ceasefire is long behind us. The shipping blockade has been set in place. No goods can get in or out of the capital. With Fort Chaeryu, Saowan, and Kheosho under our control, I estimate that the capital’s stores will begin to deplete within a few weeks.” The Arakemeti woman nudged a green figurine across the board. “We assemble the siege equipment on the eastern and western sides of the island.”
“Maybe we should just go ahead and strike while we have the advantage,” said Gakere, one of the younger First Spears. “It’ll be brutal, perhaps even worse than it was here, but at least it will be over quickly.”
“It would behoove us all if we showed restraint,” Tenoch chimed in. “This is the capital that we speak of. Prince- Fire Lord Lu-Ten’s son will be raised within the caldera. It would not bode well for Lu-Ten’s reign to begin with so much bloodshed.”
Lu-Ten wrinkled his nose. “Gakere is right. If men die, then men die, but a prolonged siege will only give my uncle time to devise some sort of plot. I will burn them all.”
The others in the room fell quiet. Lu-Ten could feel their judgment. Mad dog mad dog mad dog. The dragon on his shoulder caressed his mind with dark thoughts, filling him with the anger and bloodlust that became increasingly familiar. The beast would have its fill. They exchanged glances and hushed, wary whispers. Yaretzi looked down at the floor. Lu-Ten felt his blood run hot. “Do you all not want peace? Do you not wish for this to end quickly? We must strike before he has the chance to regather his forces. We struck down the airships. But he still has the explosive watercraft.”
Sagal frowned as she pondered his words. First Spear Owiti scowled. “Too many of our Arakemeti sons and daughters have died for you,” he spat. “Hundreds just to claim this island in your name. You only see numbers, but I see children of our homeland. Would I not be tried for treason, I would’ve taken my men home after we took SunWatch.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Dejen. “And you, you’re an elder of our nation. You share the same blood as our Queen. And you would see our men die for a madman? Look at his eyes. Those are not the eyes of a sane king. You all pretend to not see it, but I do. My men do. But so be it. We will do as we are commanded. We will strike the caldera with all of our might and die on the enemy’s swords for him. I will help you all put him on his throne. And I assure you, only blood and sorrow will come in his stead.”
Lu-Ten looked to Yaretzi and saw that she had hung her head.
Mad dog mad dog mad dog.
His eyes searched the room and none of them met his gaze.
————
Izon screeched as he circled the island. Lu-Ten watched the dragon as he reveled in the way the salty air struck his face and he could forget, if only for a moment, that once more they were preparing to depart the Spearhead Atoll. It was to be their final assault on his uncle’s armies.
Lu-Ten, at last, was going to face his uncle.
The last three nights had been filled with dreams of their glorious battle. In his dreams Lu-Ten faced the Phoenix King in a courtyard, just the two of them. The sky was aglow with orange smoke. The dragons’ roars cracked like thunder overhead.
‘You should have killed me when I was a child, Uncle. Leave one dragon alive and the sheep will never be safe. You have lived too long.’ He had said in his dream.
Ozai smiled and his face became Lu-Ten’s own: hard cold eyes and alabaster skin, and a reprobate smirk. `Shall we begin?’
The Phoenix and the Dragon danced. Once and then twice and then thrice they clashed, white-hot fire lapping at the rooftops of the palace grounds until the entire world was ablaze.
“You don’t look very excited, brother.” Lallo joined him where he stood on the rocky shore. Lu-Ten had grown accustomed to seeing his childhood friend in black armor. Yet now he wore Sun Warrior red and brown, and he had shorn his hair in the fashion of his native culture. “You don’t look like a man who is about to get everything he ever wanted.” His smile betrayed him. Lallo’s blitheful tone did not match his eyes. For the last two weeks he had danced around the none-too-untimely death of the Fire Nation women, alluding to the convenience of the outcome. It had been easy to say that the guardsmen had gotten carried away, that the drunkenness of victory had caused their already hot blood to run hotter still, and that impulsivity had gotten the best of them. Lu-Ten had ordered the three young women’s bodies to be cremated and stored in urns. He had placed them in Prince Zuko’s care.
Lu-Ten embraced him. “It doesn’t feel real,” he admitted, “not until they put my crown on my head. Not until you, and me, and Yaretzi get what we deserve. And my son. It will all be worth it when Sozin finally has his birthright.”
Lallo was reticent. “I miss the little esurient pup,” he said after several moments, lost in his own idyllic world where perhaps he had never left his nephew.
Lu-Ten swallowed. How much had he missed already? Sozin had been a fat and easy-tempered baby when they left him. “He will be with us soon.” He had promised Yaretzi. It pained him to see her so lost without their son. She was a wonderful mother. I couldn’t ask for a better woman. What other woman would kill for him?
The two young men fell quiet, watching the waves that made the ships rise and fall and rise again. Beyond the horizon, so far yet also so within reach, was the caldera and the Fire Nation palace. His ancestral home. He had asked Zuko to describe it to him, from the gardens to the murals, painting an image in Lu-Ten’s mind that grew increasingly grander. He would replace the Phoenix motifs with dragons, as it had once been before, and scrub the walls clean of his uncle’s filthy touch.
“Where’s Yaretzi?” Lu-Ten had last seen her with the gaggle of girls. She was happiest with them, he knew. Ever since Saowan and Kheosho they were often seen together, much like Yaretzi’s clan of Arakemeti women. Lu-Ten, admittedly, was afraid of the little earthbending girl. She was only twelve years old (not to mention she was blind) but fought with the prowess of a man thrice her age and size.
Lallo pointed to a magenta dot flying on the other side of the island. “Take a guess.” The Sun Warrior shifted from one foot to the other. “I worry about her sometimes. She used to be…placentious, if you will. All she wants is to do her duty and be close to Sozin and that irascible kitten of hers. While we were running around being rapscallions, she was in the temple learning how to be a dragonkeeper. She studied archaic rituals and scrolls while we chased skirts.” Lallo’s lip twitched. “Don’t just stand there, you dunce.”
Lu-Ten rolled his eyes. He called out to Izon, knowing that the dragon would come. Izon banked to return to him, extending his hind claws to grasp Lu-Ten’s shoulder with surprising accuracy and care. Lu-Ten swung his legs in time with Izon’s wingbeats and twisted at the waist. His hand closed around the rope draped over the dragon’s neck. Lu-Ten landed roughly on Izon’s back with a gruff exhale. Perhaps a bit more practice would help.
The red drake needed no command. He flapped his wings and took over in the direction where Izara and Yaretzi had last been seen. The armada, now reinforced by levied firebenders who had sworn allegiance to their rightful sovereign, overwhelmed the horizon. Lady Sagal and Lord Dejen, along with seven thousand soldiers, would stay behind to ensure the peaceful governance of the island while the capital fell.
He caught a glimpse of Izara curled up amongst the trees on the southern tip of the island. Izon roared in greeting as he spiraled to the earth and the trees quivered violently at the disturbance. Izara raised her head and exhaled steam and smoke. Yaretzi was nestled in the curve of the dragon’s body, seated in the lotus position as she cradled two strange opalescent stones in her arms. Her head jerked at the sound of their approach and a cautious smile formed on her perfect lips.
Izon drew close to Izara with a rumble of contentment. Yaretzi reached up to press a hand against his snout, pale fire sparking at her fingertips. Izon leaned into her touch. Lu-Ten dismounted and drew closer. He gasped quietly.
In Yaretzi’s lap were the two stones. One coruscated like the sunset, orange and red with streaks of yellow that formed a sort of orbicular pattern. The other had a sort of crespecular coloring that consisted of blues and iridescent twilight purples. They were egg-shaped. And with embarrassing belatedness, Lu-Ten realized that they were eggs.
The dragonkeeper caressed the eggs as if she had borne them herself, as if they were the fruits of her labor just as Sozin had been. Perfect children, Lu-Ten thought, as mesmeric as her. “Izara laid them sometime after the castle fell,” Yaretzi explained in a reverential whisper. “This is the first time she allowed me to touch them.” Izara groaned as if she was expressing her pride. “This one,” she patted the blue egg, “is strange, no? I figured that they would both be red. But I think Izon and Izara are descendants of Ran and Shaw, mayhaps the coloring comes from them. You must approach very carefully.”
The young firebender crouched low, posturing to both of the mystical creatures as he drew closer to his wife. He eased himself into a sitting position across from her, the pupils of his eyes stretched wide. Yaretzi made an irenic sound in her throat to soothe the mounting agitation of both dragons. Izara’s lucent stare paralyzed the Sun Warrior. Yaretzi took a hold of his hand and drew it closer until his fingertips brushed the shell of the warm-colored egg. “They trust you,” she murmured, “but you mustn’t make any sudden movements.”
Lu-Ten became cognizant of the fact that every hair on his arm stood on end, as if the very atmosphere around them had been electrified by the numinous magic of the dragons. He laid his palm on the egg. It was warm, perhaps even uncomfortably so. “I’ve never…I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so…” he struggled to find the words, “indescribable.”
“Izara will let me tend to them.” Yaretzi ran her thumb over the dark blue egg. “I was hoping to give one to our son, when we reunite with him. If Izara gives me her blessing.” Yaretzi averted her eyes, a bashful smile on her lips. “and the other to Prince Zuko.”
Lu-Ten began to snatch his hand away, only for Izara to bare her teeth. “Why?” He snapped. “He doesn’t deserve to even come close to the dragons. And you think he is worthy of one day claiming one?!” His vexatious, insipid cousin, who was the seed of his avaricious uncle?
Yaretzi’s lip curled. She exhaled and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were smoldering. “When he came to us, he was like a lost child. He had spent his childhood clinging to the coattails of an ideology of conquest and oppression. An ideology that was not kind to him, but he drank the poison all the same. Yet he still chose to throw off the shackles of his upbringing and swore allegiance to you. He will change the future, just as you will, yes? Just as we all must. The world will know peace and prosperity for all, as sure as the sun rises. And Prince Zuko will take to the skies with the rest of us.” Yaretzi lifted her chin. “This I know.”
Lu-Ten ground his teeth. She was right. Prince Zuko had chosen to embrace the new era and bend the knee to the rightful heir. Zuko had fought valiantly. Zuko had dared to defy his own father’s treachery, only to be burned for it. “Fine,” he replied at last, “if you must. But it won’t be safe to transport them to the capital.”
“I know,” she said, “that is why I will remain here with Izara until the time comes for us to join you.” She leaned forward and Lu-Ten kissed her forehead. “For our son to join us.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her desperately, as if she was his anchor and in many ways she was. She had brought him back to life and had given him a child. He would soon leave her behind and return with a crown. His hands would be stained red.
What kind of man would he be when he saw her again?
A king, his mind sang, a dragon.
————
The sight of the ocean might have been more poignant had it not been for the fact that they were sailing to war. Lu-Ten stood with his hands crossed behind his back. Lallo was to his right. Zuko was to his left, as morose as always. It felt strange, in a sense, to see only Izon trailing the flagship. Lu-Ten had grown accustomed to seeing both of the dragons plunging the skyline into shadow.
Zuko swallowed, hard.
Lallo’s look was sympathetic. “It must be hard for you,” he said, “returning to this place.”
The young prince let out a heaving sigh. “Seeing Azula…even from a distance, I didn’t realize-” he paused and he seemed to sink into himself. Lu-Ten thought that he resembled a young lost child and he wondered if he himself had ever been like that. “I can’t imagine a life without her. She’s my sister.”
Lallo softened. “I understand, Prince. All my life, I’ve ever known Moema and Yaretzi, and then Temena when she was born. And my brothers. Including Lu-Ten.” He shook his head as if dispelling whatever foul thoughts that crossed his mind. “But you said she promised to keep your little wife safe. If she’s as pragmatic as you say she is then she will join us in the fight against your perfidious sire. The blockade will turn the people against them.”
And the commoners would welcome Lu-Ten with open arms. Their advance had already choked the most crucial paths of the caldera’s supply chain. Starving people were angry people. And the dragon prince bearing peace and food would be warmly welcomed.
The young man did not respond. His hair, loose from his customary topknot, fluttered about his forehead. All at once his sullen mien contorted into one of resentment. He spun to face Lu-Ten fully and Lu-Ten realized that they almost stood eye to eye. “I know what you did,” Zuko hissed, “I know that you ordered the guards to kill Naoki and the others.” His unscarred eye became a chip of amber flint. “Everyone knows that you gave the command. But they’re all afraid of you.”
Nonplussed, Lallo stepped back as the cousins glared at each other. Lu-Ten took a menacing step forward and Zuko met him with a move of his own. “The only one who should fear me is your traitorous father. And why should you care? They were sent to kill me. To kill you, now that you are your own father’s enemy. They were casualties of war.” He thought of the young man that he had killed after he had surrendered. He was going to die anyway, Lu-Ten had rationalized. “Tell me, cousin, do you fear me?”
For a long heartbeat Zuko held his gaze. Lu-Ten searched his face. “No,” Zuko said at last, “I don’t fear someone who already is afraid of himself. You’re scared that you’re turning into my father, falling into the same darkness. You’re scared to be just like him.”
Lu-Ten drew back as if he had been stung. “Watch your tongue, cousin. What you speak is treason.”
Zuko did not flinch away. “What I speak is the truth.”
Despite his anger, Lu-Ten could admire his young cousin’s bravery. Perhaps he is deserving after all. Yaretzi had not yet presented him with the dragon egg, vowing that it would only be given to him after Sozin was gifted with his own.
“How does your father fight?” Lu-Ten asked as he slid into a firebending stance, desiring to do anything but continue the conversation. “Show me.”
Zuko’s mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to find his words. Lallo moved aside as the younger man mirrored his cousin with his own hands set out in front of him. Fire sparked to life at his fingertips. Zuko inhaled deeply and pushed the breath from his lungs. “Like this,” he said, and then he lunged forward with serpentine speed.
Lu-Ten spranced back. He was caught off guard by his cousin’s ferocity. Zuko kicked out a barrage of fireballs, falling into a series of spinning kicks and fierce punches that sent tongues of flame in Lu-Ten’s direction. Lu-Ten moved like smoke, like water, sliding into the gaps left in the wake of Zuko’s attacks, but he found it difficult to get the upper hand. Zuko was exerting himself, fueled by the deep-set rage against the world that he had buried within.
His stance was rigid where Lu-Ten’s was as fluid as a dragon’s. Each movement was precise. It was clear that Ozai had instilled a desire for nothing but perfection into his children. Lu-Ten blinked away a droplet of sweat that had fallen onto his eyelashes.
It was difficult to get close enough to Zuko to strike him. Lu-Ten broke away from him and took a running start before springing into the air. He spun with a leg extended, guiding the essence of his chi to flow through his leg as he conjured a powerful tongue of white-tipped flame that descended upon Prince Zuko like lightning from above.
Zuko’s head jerked up and his eyes (both of them) stretched wide and glassed over with fear. He stumbled and fell, rolling clear just as Lu-Ten touched the deck of the ship. The younger prince panicked, causing Lu-Ten to freeze. “Enough!” Zuko choked out. “Enough!”
Lu-Ten looked down at him. And then it struck him. Being above Zuko had surfaced the unfortunate memory of the ill-fated duel against his father. Lu-Ten extended a hand and hauled Zuko to his feet before pulling him against his chest in a sympathetic embrace. Zuko was rigid, perhaps fearing that Lu-Ten would decide to drive a sword into his gut.
Mayhaps he would have months ago.
“Ozai is not even half the man that you are, cousin.” Lu-Ten patted Zuko’s shoulder.
Lallo chuckled from where he stood monitoring the exchange. “Take pride in the compliment, Prince Zuko. That cousin of yours doesn’t give them lightly. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say anything so laudatory since Yaretzi brought him back from the dead.” Lu-Ten bristled and Lallo ignored him. “Ruffle your feathers all you want, brother, but you know I’m the veracious sort.”
Zuko smiled thinly. “I’m honored,” he quipped.
Lu-Ten laughed before his attention was seized by the sounding of a horn and the pounding of drums that reverberated in his bones. The First Spears poured out of the belly of the flagship, pulling on their armor and helms as they went, followed by their lieutenants. Izon let out a screech and unfurled his wings until they were at their full length. The Avatar and her brother emerged behind them, their wide blue eyes gaping in wonder. Before the flagship was the last defense of the capital- the Fire Navy’s armada. Rather, what hadn’t already been destroyed. It was a sad sight, in truth.
The caldera, in all its lush glory, appeared behind the line of naval ships.
Home.
Lu-Ten leaned forward.
Zuko took a step back.
The sun beamed on the waves, casting a shimmering white sheen on the water that reflected the white sun above. The navy struck an ugly blight on the horizon with its black and red banners and the Phoenix King’s flag rising high and billowing in the air. Men like red and black ants dotted the decks. Lu-Ten could hear Izon’s shrill whistle that dropped into a growl. Not yet, he thought. Not yet. For a heartbeat he feared that Izon would not heed his command.
“Where’s that explosive ship?” Sokka asked.
For a moment Zuko squinted at the sea. “It’s not here…” he answered, “it’s not here.”
Sokka tossed up his hands in mock-despair. “What do you mean it’s not here?! So you’re saying there’s a massive ship carrying weapons of mass destruction that could toast an entire nation and now it’s missing?!”
“Well it’s not here,” Zuko retorted. “That means it’s back at the production island.” He gritted his teeth. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
Lu-Ten scoffed. “That makes it all the more easier then. Izon will incinerate the remaining barricade in no time.” Hundreds of men had already died by dragonfire. What was a hundred more? A thousand? All for this to end, he thought. Necessary sacrifices for peace. It would pain him more to see the senseless slaughter continue, if only because it would pain Yaretzi.
“No.” Katara’s tone was rigid. “Give them the chance to surrender.” Her blue eyes were chips of ice, narrowed in a wordless challenge. Lu-Ten buckled under her gaze, thrown off kilter by a girl ten years his junior. “It’s different now. This is the capital. These are the people who will be right outside of your door.” The Avatar set her jaw. “Too many innocent people have suffered already.”
Lu-Ten averted his eyes. “Then at least I should fly on Izon to give them a final warning.”
Lallo nodded in agreement. “It would behoove us all, me thinks,” he chuckled, “getting another intimate glimpse of a flying flamethrower would make even the most virile of men into irrefragable loyal subjects to our illustrious one true king.” The Sun Warrior turned his face skywards. “Let’s hope.”
The Avatar, flanked by her brother, stared at him. He could see why her companions held her in such high regard. Very few people had seen the previous Avatar, who according to the Order had been an absolute coward who hid from his duties in ensuring the safety of the kingdoms, but already it seemed that Katara would undo all the damage that had been done. She gave a minute nod.
The (incumbent) Fire Lord raised his hand with his fingers aglow. Izon trilled as he answered Lu-Ten’s call. The dragon swooped low, his wings stirring up dust as he landed on the deck of the ship, causing the crewmen to scatter like ants. Lu-Ten smiled and laid his palm against Izon’s. “Prince Zuko,” Lu-Ten called out. “Come.”
His young cousin took an apprehensive step forward. Lu-Ten beckoned him closer. Izon turned his attention to the Fire Nation prince. Zuko stiffened. Lu-Ten forcefully took a hold of his wrist and dragged him closer. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid, little prince,” Lu-Ten laughed brusquely. “He won’t harm you. At least I don’t think so.”
“Now’s not the time to find out,” Zuko replied sharply, yet he followed Lu-Ten’s direction all the same. With his fingers stretched wide, Prince Zuko laid his hand on Izon’s massive head, wincing at the heat that radiated from him. He gritted his teeth and persisted until his palm was pressed flat against Izon’s scales. Izon leaned into his touch. He chuffed and exhaled tendrils of smoke. Zuko’s countenance had taken on a boyish wonder, awestruck by the sight of the dragon’s eyes meeting his own. Dragon riding was in his blood, just as it was in Lu-Ten’s.
“Come on, cousin. We don’t have time to waste.” Lu-Ten climbed onto Izon’s back. He yanked hard in Zuko’s sleeve and hauled the young man onto the dragon’s back. Zuko swayed. “We are a united front,” Lu-Ten said as he gripped the reins, “and if we are to restore the dragon as the symbol of our house, then the people must see that we are dragonlords, just as our ancestors.” Izon flapped his wings and gathered his strength in his hind legs. He pushed himself up and away from the flagship’s deck, taking to the sky with an ear-ringing roar.
Zuko had turned a curious shade of green. Lu-Ten looked over his shoulder to see his young relative gawking at the ocean below as the ship grew smaller and further away. He chuckled. “It gets better,” Lu-Ten assured him, “maybe it was a bad idea to bring you over water for the first time.” With a gentle tug on the reins he commanded Izon to fall into a barrel roll. Zuko yelped, throwing his arms out in an attempt to clasp something stable. Izon turned upright.
The dragon carried them over the open water and tucked into a spiraling descent as he neared the Fire Navy flagship. Lu-Ten could hear the frantic cries of “dragon!” and “take cover!” Part of him, the dog frothing at the mouth and baying for blood, desired to see them awash with dragonflame. Izon extended his hind claws and hooked his talons on the ship’s railing, lurching the entire vessel forward as he released a ferocious roar. The Fire Navy sailors wailed and hollered, scrabbling over each other to escape the dragon’s reach. Izon flapped his wings and the air whipped violently around them, hot from the dragon’s breath. He extended his neck and snapped at the men closest to him and they fell away in terror.
A flash of blue fire interrupted Lu-Ten’s thoughts. It came from the left, followed by a blur of black armor and a barrage of knives as thin and sharp as needles. He dodged, dragging Zuko down with him, and Izon bellowed. Lu-Ten rolled clear and sprang to his feet.
Three women had broken away from the naval men, each of them in battle stances. The tallest was as pale as the prisoner that had been killed, and she was as thin as the throwing knives she held in her hand. The second was clad in an audacious pink with a gleeful smile. There was a source of innocence to her mirth, but Lu-Ten knew that she was not to be underestimated. She was a chi-blocker. Lu-Ten had heard of the art, though he had never seen it in person before now. She had wreaked havoc during the first wave of the battle before Izon and Izara had descended upon the fortress. “Zuko!” The gray eyed one bounced on her toes. She glanced at Lu-Ten. “And Zuko’s cousin!”
Her grim-faced companion looked first at the dragon and then at Lu-Ten. Her citrine yellow gaze flickered over to Zuko before looking away just as quickly. “If you’re going to kill us then you might as well get it over with. I don’t even want to be here.”
Well. She’s pleasant.
The third, standing as still as stone with her chin lifted in a wordless challenge, was the Phoenix Princess. Her amber eyes, like Lu-Ten’s, like Zuko’s, were hard and cold. They settled on Zuko and dimmed for just a heartbeat, almost imperceptibly before she glared at Lu-Ten. “There’s still time to end this, cousin. And for you to come home, brother.”
“No, there’s not,” Zuko rasped and swallowed thickly. “Our father will kill me if I ever return. Just like he killed our mother.”
“There’s still time for you to end this, cousin.” Lu-Ten repeated mockingly. “Kneel down and surrender, or face Izon’s flames while he engulfs this entire ship.”
Azula tightened her jaw. Lu-Ten could see her calculating in her mind, weighing the options of surrender or death.
The chi-blocker sprang forward but Lu-Ten had anticipated her attack. He blocked her with a wall of fire and rolled clear of the third girl’s blades. Izon screeched, awaiting Lu-Ten’s command and keeping the other soldiers at bay, never allowing them to get closer to the Fire Lord and his cousins. Azula fell in with them. She was seemingly everywhere at once, preceded only by the tongues of azure flame that licked at Lu-Ten’s feet. She outpaced him as if she was forever one step ahead and thrice her blows landed true, burning his forearms when he raised them to block his face. Lu-Ten cried out. Tears blinded his vision.
“She’s not fighting to her full potential.” He could hear Zuko to the left of him. “None of them are.”
Azula swung her leg and immediately fell into a rapid succession of fireballs. Half of them missed their target and dissipated into thin air. He’s right, Lu-Ten realized. She had ordered the soldiers to stay back, and he had seen her fight enough to know that she was a savage firebender. The knife-thrower was the first to drop to her knees and the chi-blocker did not delay in doing the same. Azula analyzed the scene before her, her eyes never straying far from Izon. She shared a silent conversation with Zuko and though Lu-Ten was not privy to the secret language of siblings, he knew that they had reached an understanding.
He was not sure what sort of understanding.
Zuko stepped away from him and raised his hands with fire already sparking at his fingertips. Azula dipped her knees. Her stance was cursory, languid even. Zuko struck first with a spinning kick that was not dissimilar to the firebending katas that covered Tuwa’s wall back in the jungle. He moved fluidly, passing under and through Azula’s attacks.
She’s letting herself lose, Lu-Ten thought.
It became increasingly apparent as Zuko encroached upon her defense, breaking through the circle of flames that she had built around herself. Zuko gripped her forearm and twisted it behind her, pressing one knee into the small of her back. “I yield,” she said through clenched teeth. Azula crumbled into a kneel, peering up at Lu-Ten through her dark lashes. She smirked.
Lu-Ten floundered before regaining his composure. He lifted his head to take in the sight of the cowering men watching their princess surrender. None would risk losing their life to dragonflame.
“Take her,” Lu-Ten commanded Zuko, “Izon will carry her back to the flagship. I am seizing this ship as is my birthright. You are now under my command. Swear your allegiance to me. Or die.”
The men faltered.
Izon roared.
One by one the ship’s crew collapsed into reverent bows. Lu-Ten grinned broadly. Behind him Zuko dragged his sister to a standing position. To untrained eyes she appeared to struggle, lashing out at her brother and writhing to break his hold on her wrists. A façade, Lu-Ten knew, and a well-played one.
She continued to resist as Zuko forcefully pushed her onto Izon’s back. Lu-Ten hoped that the dragon would accept her presence. It would not serve them well if he decided to take matters into his own (paws? Claws?) and let her fall into the sea below. Lu-Ten climbed up last. Izon launched himself from the deck and angled his wings in the direction from which they had come.
“Nice performance,” Zuko drawled.
Azula smiled like a lioness, coy and predatory. “We were raised by the paragons of masquerading behind their self-righteousness. Our mother spent two decades pulling strings while dallying with her paramour. A lowly gardener no less. Really, Zuko, did you really expect me to not become a good actress?” She feigned a scandalized gasp. “There was only one way to not make our father behead me. I quite like my head. Someone has to be the brains of the family.”
Lu-Ten did not miss the girlish wonder that passed over Azula’s countenance as she peered down at the glittering seafoam below. To see the world from the back of a dragon! There was a hunger there, a look that Lu-Ten had often seen in his own reflection, the gleam of a conqueror who had set their sights on their newest objective. She must never gain possession of a dragon egg. There was too much of Ozai in her. It would be easy to simply push the both of them and watch the waves swallow them. It would rid the world of his uncle’s bloodline with one fell swoop. An unfortunate accident. It would be right. It would be just.
But Zuko was useful, and his demon of a sister as well.
The Avatar and her brother (spirits, when were they ever apart?! They were better of sharing the same skin.) and Tenoch and Lallo saw through their ploy as soon as they landed. Tenoch tensed upon sight of the Phoenix King’s more vicious child. Katara watched warily. Her brother looked on with skepticism. Lallo cackled.
“What a lovely family reunion!” The Sun Warrior’s jovial smile had a darker hint of mockery. “Princess, how lovely of you to join us. It seems the comeliness runs in the blood, however, I would dare to say that you carry the pulchritude quite a bit better than your brother and cousin.” Azula scowled. There was no chance of beguiling Azula with his usual pomp, though Lu-Ten knew that his brother-by-law had no intention to.
Tenoch blinked rapidly. “This was…unexpected.”
Sokka looked from Zuko to Azula and then to Lu-Ten before shaking his head. “Geez, there’s a strong resemblance in more ways than one,” he drawled. “They’ve all got crazy eyes,” he muttered under his breath to his sister, who silenced him with a glare.
Lu-Ten scrutinized his young cousins. They stood side by side, two faces of the same coin. “Tenoch, Lallo, I would like to have a word with my cousins in my cabin.” He jerked his head. “Zuko, come with me.”
The former Crown Prince fell in step behind him while Tenoch and Lallo flanked Azula, clearly wary of the turncoat princess. Rightfully so, Lu-Ten admitted. She had given up too readily. But then again, her father had killed her mother, nearly killed her brother, and would surely not hesitate to separate her head from her shoulders. Azula was an opportunist, like her mother, and the tides were beginning to shift.
The five of them entered Lu-Ten’s quarters. Lu-Ten beckoned for Princess Azula to sit across from him. Zuko lingered, trepidation crossing his countenance. Lu-Ten took his place directly across from the princess. Azula did not look away.
“Tell me, are you your father’s daughter?” They stared at each other from across the table, neither wavering. She has enjoyed the luxuries and security that was stolen from me. Yet he could not kill her. She was too well loved by the people of the Fire Nation. She was Zuko’s sister. And she had gambled her life to join his cause. He narrowed his eyes.
Azula lifted her chin. “I am a grandchild of Azulon, just as you are. Dragons win wars, but they do not rule kingdoms. It would not be foolish to say that you need me in the days ahead. I know our politics. I know these people. Right, brother?” Her eyes slid over to her elder brother. “You were raised by queer customs.” Her teeth flashed in a knowing grin. “Whether you command dragons or not, my primary god is Agni.”
Lu-Ten snorted derisively. “I shall have to keep you close then.”
“Tell us, Princess Azula, how are conditions in the capital?” Tenoch broke in.
Azula steepled her fingers. Her nails were sharp like talons. Her expression settled into one of cool neutrality. “My father has few friends and even less supporters, especially after he had Lady Maiko executed.” She pursed her lips. “When he learns of my…unfortunate capture, he will face you himself, right, Zuko? Our father hungers for glory at the expense of others. If you burnt the entire navy then he would simply demand others to enlist. We are all but a number to him.”
Lu-Ten straightened. “Even you?”
His young cousin’s countenance grew increasingly grim. “Even me.”
Chapter 63: Morningstar
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Yue
Half of the city had fallen into an uproar. The dragon prince was nearly upon their doorstep, his blockade preventing them from fleeing and barring ships carrying precious goods from entering. Islands had fallen and men were turned to ash under the dragons’ feet. The Spearhead Atoll, the last stronghold before the caldera, was being assaulted on every side.
Yue twirled her pen as she stared down at the blank parchment. Tui rested her head in her lap and the princess absently caressed the space between her pet’s ears. Tui grumbled happily and leaned into her touch. “I need your help, girl,” Yue cooed. For an hour she had hovered over the paper, waiting for the words to come. Yet her mind remained a discordant hive of thoughts, half-begotten sentences that refused to come together. Only days had passed since Lady Maiko’s execution. The hours after had seen the court fall into hysteria as noblemen gathered their families and made hasty arrangements to flee the caldera.
And just that morning Ozai had closed the city gates.
There was a heightened military presence after the Administer of Defense recalled four thousand troops stationed at Fort Chaeryu on the Spearhead Atoll, including fifteen hundred firebenders and artillerymen. Lord Tzumoro had initially done everything in his power to hinder her from attending the council meetings, yet ultimately he had been thwarted by the Phoenix King himself when he permitted Yue to take a seat at the foot of the dais. The seat, she realized, that had once belonged to Prince Zuko. How the mighty have fallen, Yue thought acerbically. The Phoenix King was reduced to such a disgrace that his only hope for an heir was his prisoner. Well, not exactly not an heir, but it was Yue’s adoration by the masses that kept their discontent at bay. She played with their children. She visited the shelters that housed abused women and held hands with the dock workers. She was drafting a letter to the director of Intermediate School with a request for a list of the most impoverished children so that she might fund their uniforms.
If there’s even a school left by the time it’s all over.
According to the most recent missive, Lu-Ten and his army of Arakemeti and Omashian soldiers had taken Saowan and Kheosho, quickly bearing down on the last stronghold before the caldera- the Spearhead Atoll. He was joined by the Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Sokka and Katara.
It was strange to think of them in such a way. Sokka, the leader of a great nation, and Katara- the most powerful being in the world. Years had passed since she had last seen them. Since the fateful day that Commander Zhao slit Hakoda’s throat. Yue buried both of her hands in Tui’s fur. She was no longer the quiet, dutiful daughter of the Northern Water Tribe. No, that Yue had been broken and mangled and reconstructed into something more. Something, in a way, worse. After all, what true pure-hearted daughter would scheme and lie to send innocents to their death? All as a ruse to build dissent against the man who had taken so much from her. What true pure-hearted daughter would dance around the man that had stolen everything from her, toying with him like a cat? Each day was a gamble. Each night she prayed for forgiveness.
Tui, unsurprisingly but disappointingly all the same, was not helpful.
Yue dropped the pen and pushed away from the table with an unladylike groan of exasperation. She gave a cursory glance around the room, settling on the sight of Zuko’s swords hanging on the wall. His absence was felt even months after he had been stolen away by Lu-Ten’s faction.
She turned to the mirror with a sigh. The council was reconvening in two hours, most likely to discuss the ramifications of Ozai’s most recent tyrannical blunder. Good. She smoothed out a crease in her gown. Half of her thick white hair was swept up into a topknot to hold her crown while the other half tumbled over her shoulders- her customary style as of late. A stark reminder that above all she was a Tribeswoman.
“Wait for me.” Yue commanded Tui and with a disgruntled whimper the polar dog took her place at the foot of the bed. Yue giggled as she stepped into the hallway and the door to her rooms closed behind her with a resounding click. Immediately her courtier’s mask fell into place. She had mastered the quiet neutrality, the art of sitting in silence while observing all.
Yue walked purposefully through the dim corridors of the palace. A fair number of the servants had made themselves scarce. Maya was the most frequently seen, yet Yue knew she was merely playing the same game that they all played. Her pockets were lined by Yue and Tzumoro alike. Yue didn’t fault the girl. Why should she concern herself with the machinations of nobility if it did not serve her?
She was greeted warmly by the few domestic servants that she encountered. They had grown fond of her even before her marriage to Zuko. They hesitated upon realizing that she was marching towards the audience chamber even though none of them dared speak a word.
Yue was cognizant of the fact that she walked the same path that Zuko had when he challenged his father to the Agni Kai.
The double doors of the throne room were shut, signaling that the conference had begun. The two guards at the entrance straightened upon catching sight of her, giving her a dutiful Fire Nation salute and murmuring her name. The older of the two, a gray haired transfer from the Atoll, took a half step closer to the entrance. “Princess Yue,” he said, “my apologies, but I am afraid that I cannot let you pass. Lord Tzumoro has requested that no one interrupt the meeting.” He dipped his head in repentance. “The War Ministry is in the midst of discussing matters of great importance. No place for a flower like yourself, Princess.”
He meant it as a compliment, she knew, and perhaps in another situation it might have been. She stood taller and leveled him in her stare, blue eyes as frigid as the land from which she hailed. The younger guard, not much older than herself, flinched.
“Nonsense,” Yue replied crisply. “Open the doors.”
The two men exchanged wary glances. She could see them debating silently, leery of upsetting the princess who could order their arrest if she desired. It was known that she had Ozai’s ear. After a long pause they stepped aside and pushed the doors open.
It was said that during the Dark Times, the clans had their own colors just as they had their own sigils. The clan of Apaataroq had claimed ocean blue and white as their colors, and it was that shade that she wore now. She had chosen it before sunrise, stashing it away in her wardrobe until the moment came to change. ‘Do you know what it meant when a warrior wore his clan’s colors in front of his enemies? When a chieftain and his men stand in front of their enemies in their cloaks and capes of blue and white and gray and black?’ Her father had once asked her. He had brought his face close to hers before gesturing to the city and the entire North outside of the palace walls.
‘It is a call to war.’
The War Ministry and the Council of Public Affairs sat at the long table in the shadow of the Phoenix King’s flame-curtained throne. The doors groaned as they opened, drawing the men’s eyes to the proud figure at the threshold. One by one they fell quiet until the din of voices had faded away. The wall of fire that separated the Phoenix King from his subordinates fell suddenly, leaving thin tendrils of smoke that swirled until they faded into nothingness. Ozai sat in the lotus position with his hands on his knees, arms jutted out so that his silhouette was even more imposing. He had traded his usual armor for one that was a subtle black laced with red, and underneath it he wore what appeared to be a traditional general’s uniform. A stark contrast to his typical ostentatious robes. He leaned back.
Yue strode forward in audacious blue, each step masterfully calculated. She trained her eyes on Ozai and dared him to look away. One foot in front of the other, she crossed the space of the assembly hall, keenly aware of the stares of the Fire Nation lords watching her every move. A thin, vicious, smile spread across her lips as she caught sight of Lord Tzumoro, his mouth half agape. The pythonanaconda glared at her, stabbing her a thousand times in his mind, as if he had not been pleading for her to stop Lady Maiko’s trial. It had been futile, they both knew. Ozai’s madness would not be sated until every perceived enemy was burned or beheaded. They had been powerless to stop it.
Whispers spun around her as she passed the assembled men, yellow and brown eyes picking her apart with each step. Let them whisper. It only gave her strength. I am the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe. I am a Koi.
And Ursa had made her a Phoenix.
“Lord Father,” Yue greeted him sweetly as she knelt in front of the dais, dropping her head so low that her forehead nearly touched the polished floor. Tucking the hem of her dress underneath her, Yue took her place at the bottom step where Azula had once sat. “Forgive my late appearance.”
The Phoenix King’s lips were pressed in a grim line. The men waited with bated breath for his reaction. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, as if he was amused by his council’s distress and Yue knew that she had long since solidified her place.
Lord Tzumoro let out a disgruntled sigh. He still believed that she had allowed Ozai into her bed. The very idea of it made her skin crawl. He wanted to, she knew, but seemed repulsed by her at the same time. It was evident in the way he would touch her hair or press his hand to the small of her back, or ordering her to join him in the crypts to venerate his ancestors. “It is always a pleasure for you to join us, Princess,” the sharp-faced man said through gritted teeth. “Your insight is always appreciated. Now, may we continue?”
General Szetuko cleared his throat. He wore the traditional pointed hat of the ancient warlords that matched his insufferable pointy-toed boots. “The Pretender continues to hold every island that he has landed on. SunWatch remains under his command. All of the highest ranking officers on Saowan and Kheosho have either been imprisoned or killed. By a generous estimate, the Spearhead Atoll will fall within a week once the rest of the blockade has been installed.” The capital was effectively closed in.
“And Azula?” Ozai asked.
It was Tzumoro who answered. “Princess Azula’s command is the only reason why the Atoll has held its defense.” He grimaced. “Even with the airships, I doubt that it will hold much longer when Lu-Ten turns his full attention to the Atoll. Especially if he deploys both dragons. When he deploys both dragons.”
Of course, Yue thought. The dragons had annihilated anyone unfortunate enough to have crossed their path. Yue imagined that it was a horrible death. Perfect for Ozai. She smiled to herself.
“And there’s truly no way to kill them?” Lord Haruto spoke up. “It’s been done before. Surely the knowledge has not been lost?”
The Chief Fire Sage shook his head. “Unfortunately it has been. Centuries have passed since dragons have been seen in the archipelago. Even though Fire Lord Sozin was a dragonrider, but even he was ignorant of their true weaknesses. Ryujin died of old age.” He glanced up at the Phoenix King before adding, in barely more than a whisper, “it would be an affront to the spirit-gods.”
“I will be a god,” Ozai proclaimed. “It matters not what they think.”
“Of course, Your Grace.” The Fire Sage stumbled over his words.
“So they are not easily killed…but they can be injured. Perhaps we should instead focus on dislodging their rider. Namely the witch.” Szetuko said. “She has given birth to a son who has been left behind-”
“Then I will kill the child.” The Phoenix King interrupted.
Yue’s head snapped around to face him. There was a wave of quiet horrified gasps before the councilmen quickly resumed their stern expressions. Ozai’s gaze flickered down to meet Yue’s own and she flinched. He had tried to kill Lu-Ten in his crib decades ago. What would stop him from sending knives in the dark to attack an innocent babe?
No one spoke, all fearful of inciting Ozai’s wrath. Tzumoro swallowed thickly. He was undoubtedly thinking of his own infant son. “Trying to send an assassin to the Estival Peninsula is nigh impossible, Your Grace. And as it stands, incurring the wrath of the Pretender’s dragons would not serve us well.” His countenance grew pale. “Mayhaps his wife, as Lord Szetuko said. It is known that her firebending is akin to sorcery. She is one of Lu-Ten’s most valuable assets.”
The Phoenix King scoffed. “Perhaps my former wife should have sent an assassin after her instead.” He pushed himself to his feet, signifying the end of the meeting. The rest of the men scrambled to do the same, bowing at the waist as they did so and murmuring honorifics as Ozai descended from his throne. “Send word to Azula and inquire of the Atoll’s conditions.”
The doors swung open as he exited the audience chamber with Lord Tzumoro on his heels. The conniving advisor jerked his head for Yue to follow. He needs me, she thought with a silent chuckle, he should be kissing my feet.
Tzumoro shot her a sour glance as if he had read her mind. Yue smiled. He fell eleven paces behind, squinting at Ozai’s back, and dipped his head close to Yue’s. “Do something,” he whispered fiercely beseechingly and it was almost pitiful.
Yue held her tongue, watching the Phoenix King closely to see if he had heard. Of course he had, Yue knew, but for now they were safe. He would turn his malice elsewhere. “And what would you have me do?” She whispered in response and raised a white brow. “I am but just a girl.”
The wrinkles in the corners of Tzumoro’s eyes deepened and he let out a forced exhale to mask his nervous laughter.
“Lord Father,” Yue sang, unable to stop the triumphantly malicious gleam from her eye, “might I make a suggestion?”
She could sense Lord Tzumoro tense beside her as Ozai turned slowly on his heel. He did not speak. Yue tilted her head. “It has been quite some time since the people have seen you. You, the Morning Star, the man who raised the Fire Nation to unprecedented levels of glory.” Tread carefully. “Of course, I am just a mere Tribeswoman, but I think it would be wise to show the people of the capital that you are more than just fire and steel. Everything has been done for their benefit while the Pretender destroys everything that he touches. You alone brought prosperity to the Fire Nation. You are the sword and shield that will protect them. Should they not see your face?”
A cloud of mania glassed over Ozai’s countenance. He had fallen deeper into his delusions of grandeur without his wife to temper him. The madness that ran through the veins of the House of Sozin had fully overtaken him. Lady Maiko once told Yue that the young Ozai had shown great promise before the coup; his ingenuity had launched Azulon’s success to heights yet unforeseen. ‘It was the poison of jealousy,’ she said, ‘and greed. It consumed him until nothing but rot settled in its place.’
“Yes,” the man said, “yes. I am their lord, their god. Everything the sun touches belongs under my dominion. They must see me.”
Everything the sun touches belongs under my dominion.
‘Everything in the Fire Nation is under my dominion. Soon everything in the world will belong to me. You are no different.’
Yue suppressed a shudder at the memory.
Lord Tzumoro quickly understood Yue’s intentions. “The Princess is right, Your Grace. Making yourself known to them will affirm their loyalty much more than killing the child. The Pretender and the sorceress must die, but perhaps…perhaps you could shape the child to your making. With Azula as your heir, you could assure that no traitorous kin would rise against her.”
The white haired princess looked at the man with begrudging respect. There was a sliver of honor to him after all.
Ozai turned from them without a reply. Tzumoro blinked long and slow. Yue would not say that there was gratitude in his expression. He was the first to look away.
————-
Ozai appeared to be more god than man. He stood tall in his resplendent black and gold armor. His dark hair fell over his shoulders. Yue was unsure of how he was able to maintain his youthful appearance. He had barely aged in the years since her arrival to the Fire Nation- just as fierce and comely as he had always been. His war helm was decorated with the crest of a Phoenix. Yue had traded her native blue for Fire Nationer red. The scheme would only work if she played the role of conscientious daughter-by-law, and that meant that she must present herself as the gem of the House of Sozin. She stood five paces behind the Phoenix King and prayed that her face did not betray her.
The stable hands brought the uni-horses forward. They were large, majestic creatures, with manes that had been brushed until they shone. The stallion chosen for Ozai was a soot gray suited in polished armor. The docile mare beside him was a stunning dapple. The stable master had draped a rope of rubies over the uni-horse’s horn. The gemstones glinted like drops of blood in the sunlight. Yue stepped onto the stool that was presented to her and climbed onto the mare’s back.
Armored soldiers lined either side of the procession. They sat upon the backs of komodo-rhinos; their faces were obscured by the skeleton face of their helmets, but Yue knew that they were watching.
They were to ride to the docks to mingle with the workers in an attempt to soothe the mounting concerns of the dragon prince raining fire. What good will it do, when he is only islands away? Yue thought. Her father-by-law (tormenter, captor), as if sensing her eyes upon him, turned his head. It was the first time in months that he would be seen in public, perhaps even longer.
Wordlessly she picked up the reins of the uni-horse, tapped her foot against the mare’s side, and the procession began.
It was different from her wedding tour and all of her philanthropic activities after Ursa’s death. Their party was preceded by a number of soldiers ensuring that the masses would not draw too close. The capital’s citizens gazed up at Ozai in awe as he passed, their eyes stretched wide as the man closest to the gods continued through the streets. Yue was not far behind. They chanted her name and children bounced on their toes, shoving each other to catch a glimpse of their Northern Princess.
The mood grew darker the further they went. The faces of the city’s laborers were grim. They live in fear of both their king and the invader. Trapped between a tyrant and a dragon. Yue’s fingers tightened around the leather.
Dock workers lined the roads. Dozens. Hundreds. All of them were haggard and fatigued. Several were scowling. Yue’s heart skipped a beat and then quickened. She froze as an older man picked up a stone.
“He is the true usurper!” The man shouted. He drew back his arm and hurled the stone with all the strength in his feeble hands. It landed feebly at the stallion’s feet. His poor aim did not deter him. He picked up another. “For over twenty years we have lived in his shadow, and now the true Fire Lord is returning! And he keeps us trapped within this city!”
His outcry triggered a cacophony of others, each rising and falling in outrage. The ground at their feet was pelted with fist-sized rocks. The mare’s ears pressed flat against her head in agitation.
“Usurper!”
“Murderer!”
“He killed his own wife!”
“He burned his own son!”
“Usurper!”
“Rapist!”
Yue could see Ozai’s mounting anger and the way his sunset amber eyes took on a maniacal, bestial glimmer. “Your Grace,” Captain Suzaku warned, “they are afraid and frustrated. Pay their transgressions no mind. Would it not be better to show mercy?”
His suggestion came seconds too late. From Ozai’s fingers came a ball of fire that was white hot. It seared its way through the air and landed true on the man who had shouted first. Instantly his clothes caught fire and then his hair. And then his skin. The flames swallowed him quickly, charring his flesh and the air suddenly stank of burnt meat and vomit and fear. He screamed even as he burned, reaching out for the men closest to him. They batted him away with howls of panic and dismay. Yue could see the terror in the burning man’s melting eyes. The viscous fluid evaporated as it touched his peeling skin, forming grotesque tendrils of white smoke that lingered long after the man had fallen. His broiled flesh sloughed off his body like some sort of terrible metamorphosis and still he screamed. He cursed Ozai’s name even as his lips began to meld and his voice died in his throat.
The sour taste of bile filled Yue’s mouth.
Zuko’s sobbing echoed in her ears, and all the others.
Panic spread quickly. The people lining the streets clambered over each other, yanking on shirts and hair while some attempted to flee and others shoved to get closer. Another stone struck First Lieutenant Zatula’s komodo-rhino, causing the beast to bellow in outrage. The man’s face twisted in a scowl. He thrusted his spear to push the crowd back, only for the mob to close in around them. His spearhead gutted a frothing protester. “Get back, you fools!” Zatula shouted. “Get back lest you want to die like the others!”
“Open the gates! Open the gates! Open the gates!” The chant grew louder and louder. It was joined by cries of ‘Princess, Princess.’ They were not cursing her, she realized, but rather begging for her to grace them with her presence. Their fervor struck fear in her, causing cold fingers to run down her spine.
Another dock worker’s hand suddenly closed around her ankle. Yue screamed as he dragged her from the saddle, his vice-like grip bruising her brown skin. Women reached for her, their hands tangling in her hair, and through the haze of voices and sobs and crackling fire, she could hear them chanting her name. They’re trying to rescue me, Yue thought dimly, they want to take me away from here. Take me to Zuko. Take me home. Take me-
A palace guard sliced through a man’s hand with her polearm and his blood splattered on Yue’s cheeks. She was temporarily blinded by the red spray. Captain Suzaku yanked hard on the reins of her uni-horse as the animal reared on its hind legs.
“Usurper!”
“Usurper!”
The procession quickly became a massacre. Two more citizens became victims of Ozai’s scorching fury, incinerated where they stood,leaving only their shoes. The crowd pressed in on one another in an attempt to flee the flames and blades of the soldiers that shined dreadfully in the sunlight. Li, a guardsman, snatched Yue from the saddle of her uni-horse and onto the komodo-rhino, crushing her against his armored chest. “Keep your head low, Princess!” He ordered. “Your Grace, please! We must get you back to the palace now!”
Ozai had been completely consumed by rage. He was a vengeful god who desired nothing more than to smite his enemies, fueled by the desire to conquer his murdered brother’s ghost that lingered over the caldera even decades later. Bursts of fire erupted from his hands, sharp tongues of white-tipped flame that burnt whatever it touched.
He will break and destroy, just as he had always broken and destroyed, until nothing but blood and dust remains.
Yue squeezed her eyes shut as Li kicked his mount into a thundering gallop. She clung to him like a baby koala-monkey, digging her nails in the gaps of his cuirass to anchor herself to his chest.
If Ozai heard the soldiers’ cries then he paid them no mind. Yue glanced over Li’s shoulder to see the others pleading for the Phoenix King to cease his attack on his own subjects, half bowing and half pulling at his legs. They would die, she knew for certain, but it was a matter of when.
She only knew that they were back at the palace when Li scooped her into his arms and passed her to another. “Is she hurt?” A voice asked above her. “And the king?”
“She is unharmed. I think. The Phoenix King is…he is returning.” Li’s voice dropped an octave. “A riot has started at the eastern pier.”
The second man, who held Yue gingerly in his arms, set her down brusquely. Lord Tzumoro wiped his hands on his tunic. “Of course it has.” He turned Yue by her shoulders and held her chin, moving her head one way and then the other to analyze her. “Agni surely will bless me in the afterlife after this fiasco. Are you hurt, girl? Your wrist?”
Yue rolled her wrist before nodding reassuringly. Tzumoro produced a perfumed handkerchief and passed it to her. She saw that his hands were shaking. She realized after a brief delay that hers were trembling as well. “I-I’m fine.”
The older man gazed to the heavens before he snapped at Li. “Do what you must to ensure that this city does not burn down. Stop the riot before it spreads. Throw gold at them for all I care. Someone must restrain Ozai. This shall pass. He will calm soon and return to his books and crypts. Princess, come with me.”
She didn’t have much of a choice, Yue thought sardonically. Tzumoro walked briskly with his head down and she scurried after him, realizing that he was taking her to the garden with the pear tree. She followed, as all dutiful young women did, and sat on the bench. Yue held her breath.
Lord Tzumoro’s face fell. Dark circles had formed under his eyes and his cheeks were sunken and sallow. “He has sentenced us all to death,” he said, “I cannot fix this. I cannot fix this. I cannot fix this!” Yue had never seen the man so undone. He raked a hand through his hair. His yellow-gray eyes settled on her, or rather through her, as if he was seeing the ghosts of all of the men he had betrayed to rise so high. This was the catalyst for his own fall, just as Ursa’s execution had spelled the end of the House of Sozin. “What do I do?”
Yue blinked. Tzumoro paced anxiously, as agitated as a trapped cat. “Take your wife and your children and leave.” She answered simply. “Flee and beg for Azula’s help.”
The Fire Nation nobleman let out a breathless laugh. “Would that it were that easy, girl.” His breath rattled in his chest. “The Spearhead Atoll has been fully closed off. Lu-Ten is on the cusp of taking our last stronghold. He sails with his dragons to conquer Fort Chaeryu. And soon we will die.”
“I won’t,” she replied derisively. “You forget, my lord, that I am of the Northern Water Tribe. The Chief of the Southern Water Tribe and his sister, the Avatar, are my friends. Prince Zuko is my husband. Have you no faith in Azula?”
He averted his gaze. “The Princess and her Acolytes are just humans facing dragons. I have no more faith in her victory than I have in the sun rising in the west. She was sent to only delay the inevitable. She was to be Prince Zuko’s sword and shield. Such is the life of the second born.”
Yue snorted. “Like a privileged first son like you would know.”
“I am not the first son,” Tzumoro replied sharply. “Nor the second. There was no vast estate to inherit when I came of age. No. I was destined for the military. I did what was expected of me, and of my family, and I brought more honor to our name than either of my brothers. I built everything that I have on my own. And all for naught.” He clenched his fists and shook his head in disbelief. Perhaps even self-loathing. “This city will burn around us.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
If Tzumoro were a different man then mayhaps there would have been a chance that he would strike her. But despite her mislike of him, Yue could not say that he did not respect women. She had witnessed his devotion to his wife and boundless affection for his children. A thousand emotions crossed his features. And then he began to laugh. It was a jagged, unhinged laugh, and Yue saw tears form in the corner of his eyes. “May the spirit-gods damn the day Zhao chose to slit the Chief’s throat. The Avatar would have never been discovered. You would have never been brought here. And Lu-Ten would have never turned the world against us. I rue the day I took this position.”
“And yet here we are. Arakem is your enemy. The Water Tribes are your enemy. Kyoshi and Gaoling and Omashu are your enemies. Soon Banka-Kandi will be your enemy. The world you all built is crumbling.” Yue could not contain her smile.
Tzumoro regarded her coolly.
“Careful, girl. Who is to say that Ozai will not drag you down with him? You know the nasty rumors that surround you and the King. That you whisper poison in his ear while you wrap your legs around his waist during the night. That you have replaced Ursa in more ways than one. That you are the one who encouraged the executions.” He lifted his chin, once more having gained the upper hand. “Lu-Ten is said to be easily angered. What do you think would happen to you if he decided killing you was worth facing the wrath of the Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe?” Tzumoro swept his arm to gesture to the world around him. “He is the type of man who would see the world burn out of sheer spite.”
“Like Ozai.”
Tzumoro sighed. “Like Ozai.”
——-
It took a week for the capital to return to some semblance of peace. Yue wasn’t sure if they had been pacified by gold or if all of the dissidents had been slain in the night. Most likely both. The tense quiet did not last long.
The Spearhead Atoll had fallen.
And shortly after, Azula had been captured.
The Phoenix Princess and her flagship had been taken prisoner by Lu-Ten himself, swept away in the claws of his dragon. The other ships had fled in fear and their captains had been subsequently beheaded for their cowardice. Their rotting heads were mounted on pikes throughout the caldera to be eaten by vulture-crows.
The occupants of the palace cowered in fear, unsure of when their luck would end and the Phoenix King would come for their heads as well. Yue knew better than to cross Ozai’s path. Who was to say that he would not exact his rage on her, in whatever terrible way that might be? Zuko and Azula had spent their childhoods tiptoeing under the shadow of Ozai’s capricious temper, shielded by their mother who had kept Ozai pacified to continue her own adultery. There was no such safeguard. Not anymore.
Yet Yue was not a fool.
Azula was a cunning strategist. And unfailingly loyal to her brother. Zuko was under their cousin Lu-Ten’s protection after having been stolen away from the caldera. There was only one way for Azula to reunite with him. She had surrendered. Azula would not sully her name with the dishonor of defeat. It brought her joy to imagine Ozai’s horror upon seeing both his son and daughter bearing down on the Fire Nation at their cousin’s side. The House of Sozin would be the house of the dragon once more.
“Is something amusing, Princess?” Maya’s hands rested on Yue’s shoulders after arranging her diadem atop her braids.
The white haired young woman pressed her lips together. She met Maya’s gaze in the mirror. Yue reached to rest her hand over Maya’s. “I wouldn’t say amusing, per se. Interesting, I suppose. Are you not afraid?”
Maya stiffened. “I had been in Queen Ursa’s employ since I was thirteen years old. She was untouchable. But at the same time, she was like a mother to me. She kept order here. It has all fallen apart. I cannot say that I am afraid however.” Her fingers squeezed ever so gently. “The dragonlord will come for us all one day.” She leaned over until her lips brushed the shell of Yue’s ear. “And we will open the doors.”
Yue swiveled to face the Fire Nationer. Her eyes widened. Maya nodded.
“You should wear lavender today during the council meeting today, Princess. It suits you.” Maya smiled knowingly. “I hear there is a guest.”
Indeed Yue had never seen the man who sat at the war table. He was as thin as a reed and his almond shaped eyes were closer to brown than yellow. He sported a long black beard. The man watched her curiously when they announced her entry, although his expression was unreadable.
Lord Szetuko gestured to the strange man. “Princess Yue, this is Lord Chaeyang of Clan Tanaka the Emberwolves, the eldest son of the late Lord Takuma and recently deceased Lady Maiko. Our newest member of the cabinet.”
Lord Chaeyang greeted her stiffly. Yue took a moment to study him further. He had a strong resemblance to his father if she was to judge by the portraits she had seen in Maiko’s home. He was older than Ozai and Tzumoro by a few years by her estimate.
“Many men held your father in high esteem.” Yue dipped in an elegant curtsy before taking her seat. “If he was anything like your mother then he was truly an exceptional man. An honest man. And we have so few of those in this city.” She feigned innocence when the men around her bristled. “But I mustn’t waste time with my girlish blather while we wait for our king.”
Lady Maiko’s son chuckled. “My mother did say you were charming.”
Yue batted her eyelashes demurely. “A compliment from your mother is the highest praise I can receive.”
The doors of the audience chamber swung open with a resounding bang. “Bow to your lord and king, His Grace, Phoenix King Ozai!” The guardsmen announced as the ruler of the Fire Nation stepped into the room. Ozai held his head high, looking down at all of them and Yue recalled the senseless slaughter of the dock workers. How could a man so graceful be so cruel? He swept by, cutting a smoldering glance at Yue as he passed. With a flick of his fingers he lit the flame curtain of his dais and crossed through the fire before taking a seat.
For a moment there was only silence. Each of the men looked at each other, as if they were afraid to speak first. Even Lord Tzumoro appeared hesitant. It was difficult to gauge the Phoenix King’s mood. His countenance was dark. His accusatory eyes never settled on one person for long.
Madness.
The same affliction that tormented his father. The turning tide exacerbated his rapid decline. Yue wondered how much longer it would take for the man to implode. She could only pray that Lu-Ten, Sokka, and Katara were victorious before it happened.
“Despite our best efforts, it would be safe to assume that rescuing Princess Azula would be futile.” Lord Tzumoro spoke slowly. “Any attempt to reach the Pretender would result in certain death. At this point we can only hope to fortify our own defenses here. If one of the Pretender’s dragons were to detonate the weapon then it would spell our demise.” The advisor inhaled deeply. “The blockade has caused the people to become anxious. And the most recent events…” He trailed off upon realizing he had forfeited his life.
Ozai was in his own world. “Every man that dared speak out against me has met the sword. They owe their allegiance to me, their lord and god. Szetuko, I am giving you the responsibility of forming a task force to root out any corruption and sedition amongst the commoners. No traitor or apostate will remain standing.”
Szetuko bowed his head. “Yes, my king.”
“After I create a new Harmonic Convergence, I will be a god.” Ozai’s smile was almost conspiratorial. He was speaking mostly to himself. “I will be the Morningstar. The beginning and end. The old and the new.” His mein shifted and suddenly his upper lip twisted in a sneer. “Leave me. Except for you, girl. You stay.”
Yue went rigid. With wary glances the councilmen filed out of the room. She remained kneeling and forced her features into a guise of neutrality. Her mind raced and her heart threatened to burst from her chest.
Lord Chaeyang lingered. “Your Highness, might I have a moment of your time? I had yet to encounter you in private. I’ve been so busy becoming acclimated to court, you see.” When he stood Yue saw that he was of middling height. The man drew closer to the throne. “My father was unfailingly loyal to you and the Phoenix Queen and he died much too soon. By such mysterious circumstances as well.” The corner of Chaeyang’s mouth twitched. “Your Grace, I have a gift.”
Yue craned her neck to watch the eldest Emberwolf reach for the belt at his waist. From it he produced a sheathed dagger. It was the same length as Yue’s forearm. The leather sheath was inscribed with the Fire Nation symbol. Slow, cautiously, Chaeyang withdrew the blade and presented it to the man in front of him. He dropped to one knee and held the dagger out for Ozai to accept. Yue stifled a gasp. The blade was half carved from black obsidian and its handle was expertly crafted from wood and iron. It glinted in the dark light of the throne room, reflecting the red-orange tongues of the flame curtain. The other half was made from a shimmering silver meteorite.
“Take this as a symbol of my family’s undying loyalty to you, Your Grace. My mother may have had a…lapse in judgment in her latter years, but I hope to restore your faith in us. Accept this token, my lord, and accept us back into the fold.” Chaeyang dipped his head in deference. “With you at the helm, the Fire Nation will never suffer defeat.”
The white haired princess took note of the way her father-by-law had leaned forward. He took the dagger, turning it one way and then the other, pressing the pad of his thumb against the tip. A tiny bead of blood ran down his hand. He turned to Yue with a strange, covetous expression- some queer amalgamation of an epiphany and self-satisfaction that caused her to shiver. For a moment she was taken back to a different time, when he had caught her eavesdropping in the courtyard. Lord Chaeyang drew attention back to himself with a well-timed cough. “I hope it pleases you, Your Grace. It is said that this weapon was passed down from the head of our clan, the original Lord Tanaka, who was said to have been a half-immortal descendant of the spirit-gods. His divine father gave him a gift of metalworking that far surpassed any other. I have kept it safe since my father’s passing. But now I shall give it to you.”
“By the spirit-gods,” Ozai repeated. “What better way to transcend mortality than to open the realm with a blade forged by them?”
Chaeyang, not privy to Ozai’s true nefarious intentions, was savvy enough to not make his thoughts known. “Of course, Your Grace.” He lifted a finger. “Might I ask for a moment alone with the Princess, Your Grace?” Chaeyang quickly made a mollifying gesture. “Princess Yue was the last person to know my mother intimately.”
Yue turned to face the firebender. He acquiesced with an inattentive nod, too enraptured by the nobleman’s gift to bother with looking at her. The princess stood. She accepted Lord Chaeyang’s arm when he offered it and followed when he gently tugged her away from the throne.
“I must admit, Princess, you look rather lovely in that shade of lavender. It was my mother’s favorite color. Her friends called her the Lady of Lavender.” He leaned his head closer to hers. “Do you still have the tile that she gave you? The one with the lotus?” When she gave an ephemeral nod Chaeyang smiled surreptitiously. “Good. Keep it with you at all times in the days to come.” His voice rose. “May we share a meal this evening, Princess? To further reminisce?”
“If my lord-father permits me,” Yue responded with equal volume, her voice cloaked in the saccharine charm that she had long since adopted when speaking to men. “It would be my pleasure.”
Yue had to admit that Chaeyang knew how to beguile and wheedle his way into the Phoenix King’s good graces just as well as Tzumoro. Perhaps even more so. She left the audience chamber after Ozai finally dismissed her and Chaeyang had remained, having (somehow) managed to take a seat on the bottom step of Ozai’s throne.
She joined him at sunset in his new (mostly unfurnished) solar. Lord Chaeyang and his household had only recently arrived. His estate was on the other side of the caldera, far from the deviant machinations of the Fire Nation court, where he had spent his years managing his late father’s enterprises. His recent appointment to the royal cabinet came as a surprise to her. The man’s offices faced the western side of the palace, where the sun set last, and the windows lined the main room.
The interior chamber was made from dark stained wood. It lacked the trinkets and adornments that Yue had seen in Lord Tzumoro’s office, save for an oakwood table whose legs were carved in the shape of howling emberwolves. The kitchen servants had assembled a fairly abstemious meal consisting of heavily spiced roasted turkey-duck with white rice and vegetables sautéed with garlic and onion. Another platter was laden with sliced blood oranges and clusters of grapes. In the center of the table was a decanter of honeyed wine.
The nobleman was leaning against an empty chair, nursing a glass of mead. His clothing was just as reserved as the room’s design. Seated to the right was his wife. She was stunningly beautiful. Her features were angular and her skin was a dark umber, contrasting sharply with her narrow citrine-colored eyes. Unlike her husband she wore a brilliant magenta qi-pao that contrasted with her dark complexion and her hair, thick and coarse, was pulled into a topknot with two beaded braids framing her narrow face. When she smiled she revealed gleaming white teeth.
“Princess Yue,” Chaeyang greeted her, “this is my wife Azmera.”
“Please, have a seat.” Lady Azmera pointed to the seat across from her. Yue obediently sat. The woman took the empty glass and poured a half cup of wine. “Well. My mother-by-law didn’t lie when she said you were comely.”
Warmth spread through Yue and for the first time in months she felt at ease. The noble couple waited for her to take the first bite. She could feel their analytical gaze. However, she sensed no malice. When she looked up at Azmera, she saw what could possibly pass as relief?
“Eat your fill, Princess.” Azmera nudged a plate closer. “I will admit that it has been a struggle to adjust to having staff do everything.” She chuckled. “I prepare most of our meals back home. My father came from Arakem as an engineer and with him he brought a love for curried foods. The children don’t mind. Our slew of nieces and nephews don’t mind either.”
“A slew indeed,” Chaeyang added good-naturedly. “Our eldest is fourteen. My eldest nephew on the other hand is twenty-four. He lives with us. My younger brother sowed his wild oats a bit early so to speak. Do you have any siblings, Princess?”
Yue took a bite of the turkey-duck. “My brother is ten years younger than me.” The food turned rancid in her mouth. She hadn’t seen her beloved brother in years. He won’t recognize me. Not only was she older, she was ruined goods. Bespoiled by the enemy. Against her consent, but damaged all the same.
As if reading her thoughts, Lady Azmera patted her hand. “Younger brothers tend to admire their sisters. My own brother is a chemist here in the capital, but if he could climb in my pockets then he would.”
It provided little comfort. Yue forced herself to continue eating, taking measured bites and shallow sips of wine.
When all three of them set their plates aside, Lady Azmera passed a flitting glance at the door before rising. She crossed the room and Yue watched the woman move a lamp in front of a bookshelf laden with scrolls. The woman’s skirt fluttered as she returned to the table. “It beseems us to reduce the chance of prying eyes and monitoring ears.” Her countenance shifted, dropping into an icy frown.
Yue covertly reached for a knife, dragging it closer to her. Chaeyang and Azmera laughed heartily. “We’re on the same side, my dear.” Azmera approached Yue and placed her warm hands on the princess’s shoulder.
“You’ve done well, Princess. Better than most.” Chaeyang lifted the decanter and refilled her glass. “Not only have you survived, you’ve managed to become the Queen in all but name. They say that Ozai trusts you above all others. Even that snake Tzumoro.” He wrinkled his nose. “Were it not for you, the commonfolk would have torn these gates down after that…atrocity . Your efforts have not gone unnoticed. You see, child, there have been many tiles moving across this board.” From his shirt pocket he produced another white lotus tile. He slid it across the table. “And we are all but one small part in a greater scheme. This is the symbol of the Order of the White Lotus, an international organization of scholars and scientists and soldiers and everything in between. The Order has backed the dragon prince and the Water Tribe Chief, amongst many other things. My mother and father dedicated their lives to the Order.”
Yue studied the token. It was different from the one that Lady Maiko had given her, lacking the Water Tribe emblem on the reverse face. She furrowed her brow. “Your father helped cover up Ozai raping women. He and Ursa killed a woman to prevent her from giving birth to the Phoenix King’s bastard. How could he have devoted his life to stability and peace when he did such heinous things? And how could you give away such a priceless family heirloom?”
Lord Chaeyang’s response was curt. “One of many. A small sacrifice.”
Lady Azmera sighed. “You are old enough now to know that the world is not as simple as we would hope. Lord Takuma did what had to be done in order to remain close to the Phoenix King and Ursa. As you know, it requires a certain amount of duplicity. Some…sacrifices must be made. Even if that sacrifice is your honor.” She bared her teeth in a wily grin and Yue’s initial relief turned into dread. “Your hands are just as soiled, my dear. Azula and Zuko are safe with their cousin. The Order of the White Lotus has guaranteed that.” The older woman leaned closer. “There is still time to stop this before death reaches our shores. It requires your participation. You can end this war.”
“No.” Yue slapped her hands down on the table. “Haven’t I done enough?”
“You have.” Azmera was sympathetic. “Which is why we ask this of you. You’re the only one who can.” She pulled her collar down and reached into her cleavage. Yue raised her brows. The noblewoman presented an ampoule. It contained a small amount of white powder. “Kingmaker. More potent than widow’s tears. Three sprinkles in a cup of tea or glass of wine will induce hallucinations and anxiety. Two days later and it begins to slow the heart. Over two weeks lethargy and fatigue will set in. Death will come during the night when he is asleep. Asphyxia will kill him. Overly ambitious heirs would sometimes use this to speed things along so to speak. It's a bit…excessive, but it’s undetectable until it’s too late.” Azmera nudged the vial in Yue’s direction. “You’re the only one who can get close enough to him without causing any suspicion. It’s high time for the Morningstar to set. You know what you must do.”
Yue shook her head and pushed the ampoule away. “No,” she declared, “I’ve endangered my life enough here in this spirits-forsaken country. I’ve given enough. I won’t do it.”
Azmera’s fingers closed around her own. She pressed the vial of poison into Yue’s palm.
Yue looked at her with despair. “I can’t.”
The dark skinned woman did not shy away. “You must.”
Chaeyang drew closer. “You will.”
Notes:
For Yue’s first dramatic first entrance, I listened to “the Green Dress” from the S1 House of the Dragon soundtrack and “Interests of the Realm” as the sort of overarching mood.
Chapter 64: Endgame
Chapter Text
Zuko
“Look at it, cousin. Isn’t it glorious?” Lu-Ten crowed.
Zuko found nothing glorious about the capital. It loomed on the horizon, the beacon of everything that he had ever known. And it had all fallen apart. Azula stood stoically just a few paces away from them. Her eyes betrayed nothing. “It’s nice.”
Lu-Ten glanced over at him but did not respond. He looked every bit like a Fire Lord. His hair was pulled into a high topknot, accentuating his sharp features that seemed to be in a perpetual frown. Tenoch had remarked that the three of them struck an imposing image, calling them ‘the three heads of the dragon’, and to his surprise Azula had not protested.
It seemed that she, too, had turned her back on their father. As had the entire world it seemed. The Water Tribes, Omashu, Arakem, and Gaoling had abandoned the Phoenix King. Zuko did not doubt that Garsai and Banka-Kadi were soon to follow. Laogai as well. Even the nation itself if the missive that they had received from the capital was to be believed. It had flown in via a messenger crow-dove. They were more conspicuous than messenger hawks, which allowed them to fly unmolested. Lu-Ten had triumphantly shared the news.
Ozai had locked the gates, effectively shutting the capital from the archipelago and trapping its citizens within. The dock workers had incited a riot soon after that resulted in Ozai himself had murdered several people by burning them alive and dozens more were hanged or beheaded. Zuko’s stomach turned. He had seen the true ferocity of his father’s anger. Yue is with him. Alone.
Zuko was familiar enough with the councilmen to know that they would try their best to restrain Ozai from acting on his more violent impulses (at least they tried), and Lord Tzumoro (as slippery as they come) was likely running himself ragged. He was not as honorable as his predecessor, but he had saved Zuko’s life. Or helped rather.
None of it would matter.
The final assault was to be carried out in three phases. The first would follow the same directives as the previous battles, although they now lacked one dragon. Tsephel and Dache would provide aerial support for the initial surge to claim the shore. It would be an easy battle, Zuko knew. Most of the Fire Nation’s army had been spread across the islands and the atoll. There remained a formidable defense on the caldera, but Zuko was enough of a tactician to know that his father’s defeat would be inevitable.
It was only a matter of how many men he was willing to sacrifice.
“And now it ends.”
The voice came from several paces behind them. Tenoch, one of Lu-Ten’s advisors, drew closer. He focused on the island over their shoulders. “Princess Azula, Prince Zuko, do you feel confident in your roles?”
Zuko swallowed. They were the only ones with intimate knowledge of the palace grounds. Zuko and Azula had been charged with the task of infiltrating the inner sanctum and retrieving Princess Yue after luring their father from his seclusion. If we fail then we will die. Whether that be by their father’s hand or by Lu-Ten’s mattered not.
Azula lifted her chin. “I was raised in the Fire Nation palace. I know each passageway and crevice as well as I know my own skin. The household guard may be fairly competent, but even a blind man can make his way through eventually.” She glanced pointedly at the young girl that accompanied Katara and Sokka. “That one will prove useful.”
Toph, as if hearing them even across the deck (and most likely she had), beamed mischievously. The little girl fought with the strength of men thrice her size. Zuko had seen the havoc that she had caused during the fall of Saowan. Katara turned and her half-smile was cautious. She had been adamant about allowing the Fire Nationers the chance to surrender. Zuko was certain that Lu-Ten listened to her only because she was the only person who could annihilate them all with a snap of her fingers.
From Yue’s descriptions of the South Pole, Zuko had determined that Katara was the epitome of a daughter of the Southern Water Tribe. Yue’s grace was one built from a rigid societal framework in which women were only valued by their relationship to men, whereas Katara’s beauty was tempestuous, just as likely to club a man to death as she was to sing a song. She was like Azula in that regard. (And secretly Zuko was glad that Katara had evaded capture when the South fell. Putting Azula and Katara in a confined space would either result in the two of them murdering each other in the first five minutes or joining together to crush everyone in their path.) Only a fool would put two half-trained coyote-bears in a cage and expect them to get along.
The Avatar crossed the distance between them. She was only a few years younger than Zuko, as was her brother, and with a jaded chuckle he thought that the future generations would try and refute every detail about the current events. ‘There is no way that the Avatar, the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, and the Fire Lord invaded the Fire Nation. With a dragon!’ They would argue and scrutinize every aspect of the recounts. Zuko, not for the first time, considered the idea that fading into obscurity as an afterthought wouldn’t be so bad after all. Somewhere down the line someone would pencil in his name in the margins; he would be remembered only as some inconsequential prince knocked from the line of succession and mutilated by his father the usurper. It might not be so bad, he thought. Plenty of men and their stories were lost to the sands and ashes of time.
“We’re going to save Yue.” She declared to Zuko. Her look was queer. Yue was the link that connected them. They spoke little of her, and perhaps it was because Tribespeople superstitions believed that it would bring her even more bad luck, or maybe because there was little to say. Katara and Sokka knew the Yue of Before. Before her capture and imprisonment, before her marriage to Zuko, and...
Zuko could only nod.
Sokka hobbled closer. Zuko had grown to admire the young Tribesman. He had crossed the continent to avenge his father, losing his leg and his oath-brothers in the process, but still he had persisted. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking,” he looked pointedly at Zuko, “when it’s all said and done, is your marriage to Yue even legitimate? It was done under duress after all. It’s not like you held a knife to her throat or anything. Did you hold a knife to her throat?”
Zuko felt his ire rise. It was quickly abated when Katara admonished her brother. Azula snickered. “Whether it was done under duress or not, my brother Zuzu is legally married. They did -ahem- consummate the union.” As Zuko’s mortification grew, his sister’s devious humor became more evident. “If you were to ask me, I doubt she would want an annulment. They were rather fond of each other.”
Zuko had cornered his sister in the hours after her surrender, demanding every detail of Yue’s wellbeing. Azula, for once, offered everything she knew without torturing him. Yue was well (as much as to be expected), and the reports were true. The tribal princess had managed to manipulate the Phoenix King while turning the public opinion against him. Not like Ozai needed much help. Zuko’s mother had always been the one to temper his father’s impulses, yet without her, it seemed that the curse of their bloodline had overtaken him. Unconsciously he glanced at his older cousin. They’ll replace one madman with another. Yaretzi was the only one who could control Lu-Ten’s erratic behavior. And she’s not here.
Sokka and Katara grimaced. “I appreciate the unsolicited information,” the young man said, “I guess we’ll see in a bit, yeah?”
Lu-Ten turned away from them. “Soon I will face my uncle. And the crown will finally be mine.”
Azula rolled her eyes.
Tenoch looked like he was ready to sink into the floor, clearly uncomfortable with listening to adolescents discuss marriage consummations and the like. “The first wave is ready. The initial blockade is being set in place as we speak. Tsephel has once again volunteered to provide aerial support. Avatar Katara, I trust that you will join her?”
Katara nodded in confirmation.
The older man sighed. They had discussed the battle plan at length until Zuko was nauseated at the mere sight of a map. Each moment of the battle was planned down to the minute, each man accounted for and assigned to a specific task. The earthbenders were to be locked into place with trebuchets to batter the shoreline while another column would penetrate the center, spreading out to overwhelm the enemy line. Dache and Izon would perform aerial strikes up until the city proper where Zuko, Azula, Lallo, Suki, Toph, Jet, and Kunip would advance to the palace. “Then we pray that the gods will be merciful.”
Zuko’s stomach turned. They still had not spotted the ship carrying the blasting jelly. He could only hope that his suspicions would not come to fruition.
“I don’t need the gods,” Lu-Ten snapped, incognizant of the world around him, and to Zuko he had never resembled Ozai more than in that moment.
The younger adults ate together that evening, spread out amongst each other. Katara sat beside Azula and Suki, and Zuko found himself between Rojhan and Jet. The Banka-Kadian had a restlessness that Zuko had not noticed before; he looked over his shoulder and kept a distance when the firebenders sparred on the deck. ‘Battle-shock,’ Rojhan called it, ‘it makes men jump at their own shadows. Some look for a cure in a bottle. Others at the end of a noose.’ It existed in all of them to some extent. After his Agni Kai with his father, Zuko had battled an aversion to candles that he was only able to conquer with Yue’s help.
“How many countries have we seen so far, Mika?” Sokka asked, stabbing a piece of curried chicken-goat. “I’ve been meaning to mark them off on a map and put a score next to them. Omashu was a solid six out of ten just because of our unfortunate introduction. Gaoling was alright. Taku was…” his shrug and lopsided smile did little to hide his true opinion, “zero out of ten. Don’t recommend that one at all.”
“What about Kyoshi?” Suki teased.
“Suki, please.” Kunip groaned.
Sokka brightened. “Impeccable.”
Zuko chuckled. “Garsai wasn’t all that bad,” he added, “they really like the number seven.” He thought of Azumi Nao, who had saved his life, and wondered how she fared. “If you count the Estival Peninsula as autonomous then I would say it’s decent.”
Lallo grinned. “I’m sure your pertinacious habits of studying histories and geography support your opinion. Say what you will, but you Fire Nation siblings have an analyticity about you that I find admirable. On the other hand, I must admit that I am most fond of Arakem. It’s where I met my darling Bishara.” He sighed wistfully. “Hurry up and take your crown, brother. I quite miss her. And my nephew.”
Sozin was safe back in SunWatch, carefully guarded by a number of soldiers left behind. Zuko knew little about babies, but he surmised that his young cousin would be crawling soon or close enough.
Katara looked across the table. “I just want to go home,” she said.
“Yeah,” Sokka said back, “me too.”
————-
History would remember him as a hero rather than a traitor. History is written by the victors, he thought. For two decades he had been taught that his uncle Iroh was a traitor and his father had done what was necessary to protect and preserve their nation. He had idolized his father in spite of his flaws. But the tables were turned. It was Ozai who would die in infamy. And from his ashes a dragon would rise.
Zuko looked down at the red dragon emblazoned on his chest. From his hip hung a curved sword gifted to him by an Arakemeti First Spear. He caught Azula staring at him through the mirror’s reflection. She had also taken on the dragon heraldry, though true to her nature the symbol on her chest was blue rather than red.
“I suppose this is it, brother. It is a bit ironic, don’t you think? In a matter of time, Lu-Ten and his indigenous wife will become the face of the Fire Nation. Imagine it! The Golden Prince and the Phoenix Princess bending the knee to a peasant with a dragon. This is the culmination of Father’s labors. Father dearest molded us into his perfect heirs. Well, he tried to at least. You’ve never been the brightest candle in the bunch, Zuzu, but luckily you had me.” She paused and her face shifted into a complex mixture of amusement, sadness, and bitterness. “Have me,” she corrected, “who knows where you’d be without me?”
The Fire Nation prince snorted. It was as close to a declaration of affection that he would ever receive from his sister. They shared a fleeting smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “for keeping your promise.”
Azula snorted. “As much as I loathe to admit, I have grown to like my sister-by-law. She became the perfect little noblewoman with silk gowns and sharp claws, just like the Phoenix Queen. She would make our mother proud.” Azula tightened her jaw and blinked long and slow.
They reached the deck side by side. Tsephel and Katara had already departed, flying above the ships as they surrounded the island. Izon hovered as he awaited Lu-Ten. The older prince turned to face his cousins with a tight smile and eyes that sparkled. At his side was Lallo, as faithful as always. Soldiers milled around them, the air alive with thirst for war and blood, drunk already on the idea of glory.
None of them spoke aloud, but the conversation passed through them all the same. Men would die, as men had always done in war, and Lu-Ten would ascend the throne drenched in blood. Zuko thought of Yaretzi, who had been shattered by the violence that unfolded when Lu-Ten began his conquest. Despite his abrasive demeanor, Zuko knew that Lu-Ten also suffered mentally. (He had overheard Lu-Ten weeping alone in the war room, perhaps fearing what he had become, or mourning kin he had never known.) When it was all said and done, Zuko wondered if Lu-Ten would be able to free himself from the shackles of lunacy. He was doubtful.
But one could hope.
The commanders encircled the prince, flanked by Sokka and his men. Lu-Ten straightened his spine. He almost appeared golden, godlike, and Zuko wondered if this was what his grandfather Azulon looked like in his prime. His dark red cape settled about his shoulders. Lu-Ten faced the soldiers that had crossed the continent to win his war. “There is no amount of gold or glory that I could give in thanks to you all. Brave men and women of Arakem and Omashu, and the Estival Peninsula who have come together under the banner of the true Fire Lord. The spirit-gods have ordained me to lead the Fire Nation into a new era with my cousins at my side. Stay with me for just a moment more and your names will be etched into the history books for generations to come. I swear this to you.” Glee and triumph had overtaken him. “This is a new era!”
Zuko recalled the argument in the war room between the First Spears. “I will help you all put him on his throne. And I assure you, only blood and sorrow will come in his stead,” First Spear Owiti had said. Yet the men around them were abuzz with excitement, enthralled less by the idea of following a madman, but rather by the taste of glory and wealth.
Izon took to the skies soundlessly with a leathery snap of his wings, carrying his rider to join Dache in the clouds. Lu-Ten offered no spare glance at them as the dragon disappeared. Zuko found himself clenching his fists. He released them.
The rest of their party joined them. Toph stood proudly between Suki and Jet. “Sparky, Zappy, are y'all ready or what?” Toph crossed her arms over her chest.
Azula wrinkled her nose. “I won’t stoop to the level of an ill-mannered blind pest, but for as long as you live, don’t ever call me that again.”
Toph flashed her teeth. “Okay. Zappy.”
Lallo stepped in. “Toph, my sweet little contumacious noble lady, let’s not poke the dragon shall we?” He patted the little girl on her head. “Save the feistiness for some that are more…deserving.” He looked pleadingly over Toph’s head at Suki. “There will be plenty of firebenders to bully to your heart’s content. I’ll line them up for you after our victory, yes? You’ll be able to take your pick, this I promise to you. But let’s leave the firebender that can bend lightning alone, yes?”
“Alright,” the girl grumbled. “Just try not to die, Sparky. And you too. Zappy.”
The sprawling buildings and greenery of the caldera seemed impossibly close as the flagship came upon it. The last time Zuko had seen his birthplace was long ago, when his mother had swept him away to save his life, before Ozai had taken her own. It was choked on all sides by Lu-Ten’s army, dragon and hyeagle flags billowing in the wind. The battle had already begun. Tsephel’s flying bison swooped overhead as Tsephel and Katara used their bending in tandem to create waves that propelled the earthbenders’ launch craft toward the shore. The men on the coast were pelted with finger-sized stones that pierced their armor, embedding themselves in exposed throats and eye sockets. Zuko swallowed thickly. He had seen death up close far more than he had ever hoped for.
From the deck he espied soldiers manning the ramparts that were installed on the slopes of the shore. Trebuchets fired in unison, laden with jars of mid-grade blasting jelly that shattered on impact. They had installed lines of transparent wire, causing the invading forces to trip and stumble as they landed. Arrows rained down on them in a dark cloud of iron and steel. The earthbenders, having learned from previous experience, were prepared for the onslaught. They formed rock shields and battering rams that smashed through the Fire Nationers’ defenses. Zuko could hear the screams from where he stood. His father’s army planted landmines under the stone and sand. They detonated as men and beasts alike crossed over them, sending a flurry of limbs and blood, drenching the soldiers that followed. Yet still they did not stop, clambering over the dunes and ditches, wading through the sea of both foes and brothers-in-arms. The first wave of men, who had taken the brunt of the initial attack, were beginning to assemble the equipment that would pummel the shore. They moved quickly, moving between each other like koi fish, as fluid as water. One group would bend walls of defense while another would construct the trebuchets and then they would switch, never allowing themselves to tire.
An unfortunate cluster of firebenders disappeared in a cloud of body parts, arms and legs and heads flung in every direction like some macabre version of festive confetti, rendering them into little more than red chunks of meat that had once been fathers, sons, people. They were torn apart by their own explosives when an Omashian earthbender kicked it back to them. A man, who had been far enough away that he had been spared of the horrific death, fell to his knees. Or rather, what was left of them. A merciful spearman slit his throat.
Zuko gripped one hand with the other to stop the trembling. It never gets easier.
Part of Zuko had hoped to be desensitized to such violence. He had, after all, witnessed his father execute people, and he could now be considered a veteran in his own right, but it amounted to little. Nothing his father did could compare to what he saw before him. He felt bile burn the back of his throat. He swallowed.
Lallo, who was closest to him, hung his head. He caught Zuko’s eye. “May Tenochizun forgive me,” he whispered.
The others were equally grim. Azula had fallen into a mask of stoicism. She was the perfect image of their mother, as beautiful as she was ruthless and proud, and yet Zuko saw a flicker of an indecipherable emotion. Not trepidation nor apprehension. No tears formed at the corner of her eyes nor did a frown pull at her lips, but Zuko thought that he had never seen his sister so sad.
Prince Zuko donned his helm.
Izon joined Dache in destroying the Fire Nationers’ equipment. Zuko could only see Lu-Ten’s cape and Tsephel and Katara’s hair as they passed overhead. Lu-Ten was showing remarkable restraint in avoiding his own troops. For once, Zuko thought sardonically.
The second battalion of earthbenders surged forward to overwhelm the coastal forces and force their way into the city proper. They left no armored man standing. It’s war, Zuko rationalized. It’s war, it’s war, it’s war. It became a mantra, an armor in which he could cloak himself, and hope that it would be enough.
“I don’t wanna see this, do I?” Toph sounded very small and very young. Her bravado had left her.
Jet’s tanned face was gray. “No,” he replied stiffly, “you don’t.”
Too soon Dache reapproached. Tsephel’s cheeks were flushed and Katara’s hair was windswept, both of them looking wide-eyed and frazzled. The Air Nomad extended her hand. “Let’s get a move on!” She shouted, tossing a rope ladder over the side of Dache’s saddle. “You first, Wonder Boy.” She gripped Jet’s arm and the Banka-Kadian sat beside Katara, setting his twin swords in his lap.
Kunip lifted Toph. The blind earthbender allowed him without protest. The rest of them followed suit.
The Avatar met Zuko’s eye, a silent promise to find Yue passing between them.
Tsephel whistled and Dache groaned as she climbed back into the sky. Zuko observed the carnage below. From this height he felt a strange detachment from it all. The limbs and heads and torsos strewn across the battlefield were non-human. Shapeless, faceless figures rather than daughters and sons. It was easier. He turned his head and thought of turtle-ducks.
Izon and Lu-Ten passed over them. The dragon’s broad silhouette cast a long shadow.
“Here!” Zuko pointed to a mooring on the far side of the caldera, half hidden by overgrown vegetation. Underneath the planks was the mouth of a tunnel swathed in blooming vines. A significant part of it was submerged in water and sections of the stone walls had crumbled over the years, obscuring the entrance further. Zuko’s breath hitched in his throat.
There were a number of subterranean tunnels running throughout the city, remnants of the days of the warlords. In darker days they had been used to transport clandestine goods at the behest of the ruling elite into the heart of the richest sector of the capital. They formed a damp labyrinth, leading to dead ends and dead bodies where men had been lured and killed. The Serpent Maze, Zuko knew it to be called. Very few knew of its existence.
The tunnels led to the palace.
It was to be their only chance to infiltrate the palace undetected. Zuko guided Dache to the mouth of the tunnel. He sprang from the saddle and landed in a clumsy crouch. I’m getting rusty. Jet, Lallo, and Kunip dropped down beside him while Suki and Toph were slower. The Kyoshi Warrior paused. “Katara, are you coming?”
The brown-skinned princess shook her head absently. Her blue eyes were aflame with righteous determination. “No…” she said, “they need me here.”
“And I’m just the gofer, I suppose.” Tsephel snorted. “Jet, you especially try not to get yourself killed. Or maimed. For Katara’s sake. And mine! Considering I’d be the one to scrape her off the floor.”
Azula cleared her throat. “Asinine bickering can wait. Let’s go.”
Zuko led them under the causeway and into the dark tunnel, using his firebending to light the way. Water had stained the walls with permanent tears. The concrete smelled of mold. The others fell silent save for the shuffling of Toph’s feet. Zuko glanced back to see her moving her bare feet in wide circles. She held her palms up, running the back of her hands against the wall. Though her eyes were sightless she closed them all the same, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. With her seismic sense the girl saw better than them all.
“Let Little Beifong be up front.” Lallo voiced Zuko’s thoughts.
Toph needed no further encouragement. She strode forward and took her place at the head of the group, cracking her knuckles. “Walking is fine and all but I can get us there faster. I am a badgermole, mind you.” Her smirk was toothy. Toph pressed her foot harder into the ground and secured her stance, the bangles on her ankles jingling. She extended her arm and then snapped her fist closed, jerking her elbow up at the same time. The ground under their feet lurched and broke away, forming a platform upon which they all stood.
“Don’t worry,” Suki said, “she’s good at this.”
The blind earthbender jerked her hand and they were suddenly propelled through the tunnel, guided by Zuko’s frantic directions. Well, this is faster than fumbling around in the dark. He could hear Jet and Kunip exchanging an impressive amount of expletives, some of which would make even the hardiest of sailors pause.
Toph folded and bent the earth, her hands flying in her customary jagged motions.
She brought them to an abrupt halt where a metal covering allowed thin streaks of light to shine below. Zuko peered up through the grates, thankful that his childhood obsession with memorizing every part of the palace had not gone to waste. He knew every hall, no matter how neglected, and every shrine and garden. A previous Fire Lord’s paranoia had led him to build a maze of courtyards and colonnades with dark pagoda towers, many of which were repurposed over the generations. But one had kept its function since time immemorial. The Shrine of the Sacred Ancestors.
He had taken Yue to the crypts that contained dynasties of Fire Lords, far older than the House of Sozin, some names written in such an obscure script that Zuko could never read it. The drainage tunnel was behind the red marble columns, hidden by the creeping vines that ran over the ground. He turned back to his companions. “This is the only way into the palace but…I don’t know where my father could be inside. Nor Yue.”
Azula scoffed. “It’s simple, sweet Zuzu. We split up. You take the Banka-Kadian-”
“My name is Jet,” the young man interjected.
The princess continued without acknowledging him. “And our cousin’s lapdog. Suki, Toph, and the Tribesman will come with me.”
Most likely unwilling to argue with a lightning-bender, Lallo shrugged. “Before we commence, I would like for it to be known that I am rather terrified. Aghast. Scared beyond my wits, timorous. I tremble in my boots.” He sobered. “But we’ve made it this far. Let’s rescue the princess.” The Sun Warrior rubbed his hands together, conjured a sphere of fire, and jerked his head. “Toph, if you would?”
Toph stepped forward, making a grabbing motion with hooked fingers. The rock and steel covering groaned as she took control of it. Lallo shot a burst of fire upward and the metal turned red-hot, softening as the earthbender swung her arm as if to land a blow. The grate followed her command and slid across the ground above their heads with a loud clunk. She winced. “I didn’t mean to sling it that far,” she said bashfully.
Azula was the first to climb up. “Yes, well, you almost let the entire household guard know that we’re here.” Under her breath she muttered, “you dunce.” With predatory ease she swung her body up and over the edge of the drainage hole, peering down at them with general disdain.
Zuko sighed. He surveyed the area around them and found it strangely deserted. Not even a groundskeeper. It was not unusual, he supposed, but certainly not normal. He gesticulated for Jet and Lallo to move behind him. It was unfair for him to have only two men and Azula to have the rest, but Azula had never done things fairly. They darted to the shadows of the pillars, moving like phantoms in the night, like dark apparitions come to dispense justice at last.
As their groups diverged, Azula cast a lingering glance at Zuko. They shared a silent conversation that only siblings would understand and then she was gone, trailed by the others.
It could not be said that their father had not taught them well. Zuko’s first years had been spent in his father’s shadow, delighted by every opportunity to please him. He had always been shadowed by Azula’s prowess, however, but his father had always taken note of his unwavering resilience. (Those words would become an insult in time, but as a child Zuko had basked in his praise.) Ozai controlled their firebending training and physical exercises, forcing them to climb and skip and run until their legs buckled and Zuko cried for respite. He had loved his father, had idolized him during the times when their mother shielded them from the worst of his tendencies; Zuko had aspired to be his father. His scar tingled. He moved surreptitiously, as his father had taught him, and kept his mind clear, as his father had taught him.
The three of them crept along an awning. Zuko stayed low, nearly crawling on all fours like a lizard-rat, his concentration never straying from the ground below. Not a single guard. They leapt from roof to roof, making sure to muffle the sounds of their landing as they continued towards the rooms that Zuko had once shared with Yue.
Zuko landed first in the Sunrise Garden. With a curse he broke his fall in a bush, grunting when Jet crashed into him. Lallo landed clumsily some feet away. Zuko surveyed the garden. He spotted the window of the hall leading to his quarters. The prince’s heartbeat quickened. Please let her be there. Please, Agni, if you have any love for me at all.
An unfamiliar voice coughed loudly. A household guardsman stood in front of them, accompanied by three others. Zuko recognized them from his childhood. They were seasoned graybeards. One of them put a hand on his sword. “Prince Zuko,” he said pleadingly, “don’t make this difficult.
The others stepped forward, dipping at the knees and bringing their arms up in firebending stances. “Please,” said the second, “we don’t want trouble. We’re following orders.”
“Oh for spirit-gods’ sake!” Lallo pressed his palm to his forehead.
“At the expense of your honor.” Zuko snarled in response. “Where is Yue?”
The first man sighed. “I cannot say for certain. But she is not here. You’re not supposed to be here.” He drew his sword. “Please.”
Jet did the same. “Nope,” he said, “sorry.” The three of them lunged forward cohesively, moving in tandem to neutralize the men before they sounded the alarm. He slid low, hooking the curved end of his swords around each of the men’s ankles. He pulled, tossing them in two different directions. The men went flying, thrown into the bushes where they stayed, limp and unresponsive, but alive.
The eldest graybeard was a veteran. He engaged with Lallo and Zuko, blocking one while deflecting the other. He grabbed Zuko’s forearm and twisted it, ramming his knee into the prince’s spine. Zuko stumbled away. Lallo replaced him. He dove and wrapped his arms around the guard’s legs. They slammed to the ground. Lallo dug his fingers into the older man’s hair and bashed his head against the concrete to render him unconscious before hauling his body by the ankles to join the others in the undergrowth. The Sun Warrior turned back to the others. “We avoided a debacle by a hair's breadth, no?” He dusted his hands on his pants. “Let’s go.”
“Something’s not right,” Zuko murmured and then louder: “something’s not right.”
“This whole situation isn’t right. I could list it all but I’d waste our time,” Jet drawled. “Lallo’s right. We pose more of a risk staying out here than inside.”
The amber-eyed Prince could not rid himself of the sense of foreboding. Cool fingers of apprehension ran down his spine. They crawled through the window and crossed into Zuko’s quarters. They were exactly as he had left them, the swords on the wall and collection of books, and the bed which was freshly made. There was no sign of Yue. Dread filled his belly. “She’s not here,” he whispered. His mind rapidly shifted through a myriad of thoughts and ideas. The library. The gardens. The Temple. The throne room. The throne room. The throne room.
Stupid stupid Zuko.
He spun on his heel. “Come on!” He shouted as he kicked the antechamber door open. Lord Tzumoro! The shrewd nobleman had helped Ursa save Zuko’s life. Perhaps there was an inkling of loyalty to him. If they could find him.
The trio raced through the halls of the inner sanctum, dodging the few people they encountered. Mainly servants who looked at them and wisely turned their heads.
Zuko skidded to a halt in front of the chief advisor’s office. He took a long breath and held it in his chest, prepared to attack should his plan go awry. Jet and Lallo crowded in behind him. Zuko pressed his shoulder against the door and pushed. It swung open and collided with the adjacent wall.
He let out a choked cry of horror.
Lord Tzumoro was slumped over his desk, body already stiffening with rigor mortis, his hands still clutching the sword upon which he had fallen. In the corner of the room was his wife, her face a dreadful shade of purple, holding their infant son to her breast. Their cherubic-faced daughter was not far away, gently laid on the floor as if she was sleeping except for the thin stream of blood trickling from her nose. Her little arms were tightly wrapped around her doll.
Zuko’s knees buckled. He pulled at his hair, unable to stop the ragged keening that came from his throat at the sight before him. He felt sick. He had danced with the little girl at many social events, spinning her around the room. Her name was Tsura, a bright and charming girl with her father’s yellow-gray eyes and her mother’s light brown hair. Someone had tucked a pillow under her head and Zuko wondered if it had been her mother or her father.
“Oh no. Ohhh no.” Lallo staggered into the room, shaking his head in dismay and disbelief. His voice rattled.
A tiny whimper came from across the room.
“Fuck,” Jet said sharply. “The baby’s still alive.”
Lallo had already pushed them aside, gingerly prying the whimpering infant from his mother’s cold arms. His hands were shaking. He stared down at the baby as he rocked and shushed him, bouncing him on his chest. The baby’s cries grew louder. He was unharmed. Lallo hummed. “No, no, little one. None of that. It’s alright,” he consoled the babe, “it’s alright I promise.” Zuko had only seen the man so tender with his own nephew. The Sun Warrior turned back to them with Tzumoro’s son tucked safely in his arms.
“We’re on borrowed time.” Jet pushed the door shut. “What do we do?”
Lallo’s eyes hardened. “I’m not leaving him. The little mite is innocent in all of this. I don’t know, but I’m not leaving him. As sure as the sun rises.”
Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. It did nothing to alleviate his headache. Think, Zuko, think! Azula and the others were no doubt making their way towards the throne room. He hoped they were faring better than they were. How were they going to lure Ozai and save Yue with a baby in tow? Everything is going wrong. He had no clue how the army was faring. It's all going wrong. Zuko turned in an absentminded circle. “I’m going to find a servant that I recognize and trust.” If that’s even possible. “Stay here.”
The absence of any guard had allowed Tzumoro to kill himself and his family without hindrance. Zuko wondered if the man had orchestrated it or if he had simply taken advantage of Ozai’s folly. He had no desire for the answer. Zuko scoured the halls, damning every servant that scurried away from him. They looked upon him as if he was a ghost. There was no trace of Azula and the others. He was unsure if that was a good thing.
From the shadows of a corner behind a tapestry, a white hand extended to touch his wrist. Zuko yelped, forming a knife of fire. The orange light illuminated the person’s face.
“You shouldn’t be here, Prince Zuko.” Maya’s tone was hushed. She pulled Zuko into the darkness and dragged his head down until her lips brushed the shell of his damaged ear. “The Phoenix King…he has Yue. In the Temple. She…she tried to poison him with a powder that Lady Maiko’s son had given her, but he caught wind of it. Somehow. He knows everything, Your Highness. He’s gone mad. Why do you think the palace is deserted? Nine out of ten men are in the city fighting the earthbenders on your father's orders. The others fled. Why do you think he dragged her away? He knows you’re here!”
Zuko staggered backwards. “Maya…” She spoke the truth, he knew, yet his stomach churned all the same. He tossed a glance over his shoulder from whence he had come. “Maya, you have to promise me. On your honor and mine. I need you to do this. Please.”
The young woman stiffened. “…on your honor and mine,” she repeated. Maya allowed Zuko to lead her back to Tzumoro’s solar. She covered her mouth with her hands as she took in the scene. “My prince…”
Lallo thrust the baby into Maya’s arms. “Keep him safe by any means necessary,” he ordered with an uncharacteristic venom. “Defend him with your life.”
Maya nodded without hesitation. She bundled the little boy closer. “His name is Rokuro,” she told them. “His mother and father adored him.” With a finger she traced the baby’s round cheeks and brow. Maya raised her head with renewed determination. “May the spirit-gods be with you.” She left the room, as silently as an owl, with the infant in tow.
Lallo exhaled. His gaze lingered and Zuko wondered if he saw Sozin instead of Rokuro. The smile on Lallo’s face was sharp and sour. Zuko considered everything that Maya had relayed to him.
Yue had attempted to poison Ozai. Zuko wasn't sure how or where she got the poison, but he had his suspicions. The Order of the White Lotus had friends in every corner. In any case, the Phoenix King became privy to the scheme. His paranoia had left him more cognizant than ever. The thought of the Order putting her in danger made his blood run hot. Zuko’s father was unchecked and deranged. Only the gods knew how much time they had left.
Jet and Lallo followed him wordlessly. Zuko was reminded of a different time so long ago, when his feet made the same steps, filled with such righteous rage at the injustice inflicted upon his wife- his friend. It coursed through him again, as fulgurous as ever, and though he knew Lu-Ten wished to duel with his father, Zuko knew that he would challenge Ozai to an Agni Kai himself, again and again, many times over. The last time he had entered the Temple of the Rising Sun was before his fateful Agni Kai; it was the last time he had been whole. The arcade was abandoned where it had once been filled with witnesses to Zuko’s maiming.
Azula and Suki suddenly appeared from the other side of the courtyard of the Temple, sprinting across the open space. Kunip and Toph were not far behind. Kunip’s dagger had a red sheen and his knuckles were bloodied, his dark locs having been loosened from his braid. “It appears we came to the same conclusion.” Azula pursed her lips. “We searched the entire western half of the palace grounds and encountered five guards. And the Chief Fire Sage.” Her malicious smirk was all Zuko needed to know. The death of their mother had left Azula with a vendetta against every clergyman, whether they had been present or not. The man’s red robes were his death sentence. “This is the only place left.”
The siblings held each other’s stare. They mirrored each other with a nod and as one they took the first step toward the temple entrance. The sconces were unlit save for one, deep in the belly of the sanctuary, and the yellow eyes of the Fire Nation’s patron god glittered in the dark. Through the darkness, Zuko knew, was the corridor that had contained the extraordinary domed skylight that captured the light of dawn, casting kaleidoscopic colors onto the red-tiled floor below when the sun shone upon it. The walls were covered with paintings of men at war, of women laying with tattooed warriors and birthing children from flames, of the spirit-gods crafting the archipelago, and mankind, and all that the sun touches. There was a mural of two dragons, one red like blood and the sunset, and the one blue like the deepest depths of the sea and twilight, twisting in an eternal dance of push and pull, desire and hatred, joy and sorrow.
Zuko was reminded of a time when he was very young, perhaps four, and he had slipped away from his nurses with two year old Azula in tow. They had found their way to the Temple of the Rising Sun and when their parents found them, they were sitting under the skylight underneath the dragons. Zuko under the red and Azula under the blue.
Neither of them spoke, but perhaps they did not have to. For all their differences, the two of them were two halves of the same coin.
He could hear the others behind them, breathing heavily as they fumbled through the dark. Toph guided the other three with her seismic sense, aligning her steps with Zuko and Azula’s as they pressed on. The single lantern threw spindly shadows as the hall widened and the symmetrical chamber fell open before them.
In the center of the chamber, with the sun illuminating his features, stood the Phoenix King. He stood tall, like the incarnation of Agni himself, all red and gold and black. And the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe was struggling to break free from his grasp, his forearm pressed firmly against her throat while she clawed uselessly at his hand, her nails leaving red trails on his skin. His other hand was twisted in her gleaming white hair. Her blue eyes were wild and bloodshot.
At their feet lay a nobleman, his own eyes still open wide with fear and the red gash in his neck still weeping. There was a woman as well with dark skin, her body broken and bent. Her slender fingers had been fractured and crushed and Zuko saw that she had grasped a knife perhaps in a dying attempt to save herself.
“I knew you would come,” Ozai said, “although I had maintained some hope that my daughter would not lower herself to the same level as you, Prince Zuko. A traitor to your nation, your family, the very blood that runs through your veins.” His eyes darted back and forth between his daughter and his son, sparkling with rage and mania as the world he built crumbled before him. “I expected this from that one, but you, Azula…I had hoped to exalt you and guide you to assume the mantle of ruling the Fire Nation while I ruled the world.” Ozai gestured to the dead man and woman. “Traitors who hoped to poison me. Or rather use the girl to do it.” He bared his teeth and yanked harder on Yue’s hair, causing her to wail in pain.
Zuko ignited his hands. “Let her go, Father.”
The older man laughed harshly. “Look at you, finally growing a spine after I tried for long to mold you into someone worthy of my legacy.”
Zuko did not recognize the man in front of him. His father was corrupted beyond salvation. (As if there was ever a chance.) Azula had remained silent. “Father,” she said at last, “would you really stoop so low as to kill a mere girl when the Pretender claims your city? What are we but mere ants beneath your feet while a dragon dares to take everything you have built?” Zuko gawked at her.
Ozai smirked. “If it is a battle my nephew wants, then it is a battle he shall have. The Fire God’s Prophet is in place. My plans have changed. I no longer need to wait for the perfect moment to create a new Harmonic Convergence when the gods have aligned it all for me. I will kill my nephew and the dragon, and when the Fire God’s Prophet sets the world ablaze, I will emerge from the flames.”
No.
Zuko lashed out with a whip of flame that his father deflected with a snarl, throwing Yue against the wall behind him with a bone-crunching thud. She slumped and her eyelids fluttered. The older firebender retaliated with a wild burst of white-tipped fire. A flash of blue cut through it as Azula spun and kicked, moving in front of Zuko with a graceful leap. She shoved Zuko backwards with both hands and Zuko was acutely aware of being pulled away.
Ozai relentlessly launched a torrent of fireballs at his daughter. She dodged and cut through them, forming a wall of azure fire between her and her father. Azula glanced over her shoulder and gritted her teeth. The Phoenix Princess shot across the room with a trail of fire in her wake. She set the rafters of the temple ablaze with her firebending and ashes fell over the red tiles. With each step she evaded Ozai’s wrath, slipping between the bursts of white fire like a koi through water. Azula was in one place and then another. She left a trail of burning rafters in her wake. Their duel was horribly beautiful. Blue against white, father against child, and the fractured sunlight above made them look like warring gods.
The Fire Nation prince lunged in Yue’s direction where she lay sprawled across the floor. He was pulled back roughly. “Zuko, no! We have to get back and warn the others!” Suki and Kunip took hold of each forearm, dragging him while Zuko kicked and struggled, lashing out. His fist caught Kunip in the jaw. The Tribesman’s head snapped back but he did not release him.
“Stop!” Zuko roared. “Stop, I have to get to Yue!” He realized that Azula was forcing just enough space between them to facilitate their escape. The roof of the temple groaned and sagged. He realized that they were leaving Yue behind. Azula sprinted to rejoin them. Zuko screamed and flailed, the corners of his vision black and blurred, and then the ground swallowed them as Toph closed the earth over their heads. “Stop!”
Jet pinned Zuko’s arms to his sides. “We have to warn the others! If that ship explodes…” The former bandit’s voice cracked. “We have to get back.” They swayed as Toph’s rapidly moving platform hurled them through the underground labyrinth. “If that thing explodes then Yue is dead anyway.”
His throat was raw. Zuko glared at Azula. “Traitor!” He hissed. “She was right there, we could’ve saved her! And you let her die!” His vision flickered.
The princess averted her eyes.
Too late, yet also too quickly, they arrived at the entrance of the tunnel. Jet and Kunip dragged Zuko out of the tunnel before he could pull away from them. During their time away from the battle, the army had torn through the capital’s defenses. They were fighting in the streets while the shore was on fire, littered with corpses in green and corpses in red.
And there, rising up from the sea like a vengeful god, was a massive ship that had closed the dragon prince’s naval forces’ path of escape. The ship, the Fire God’s Prophet, had arrived. The massive harbinger of horrors unimaginable loomed on the horizon.
The Avatar’s leopard caribou and a Komodo-rhino charged towards them. They slid to a halt and Katara leapt from Lusa’s saddle, leaving her brother to hold the feline’s reins. Rojhan commanded the Komodo-rhino with Tenoch.
“Well…” Lallo scratched his head. “I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is we found Yue. And a baby! The bad news is we don’t have Yue.”
Katara’s eyes flashed like chips of ice. “What do you mean you don’t have Yue?” Her scowl swept over them, first to Jet and then Suki and then Zuko. “What do you mean you don’t have Yue?”
Sokka had slid clumsily from Lusa’s back, hobbling as fast as his prosthetic limb would allow to his sister’s side. He was the more levelheaded of the two. “What about Ozai?”
“Completely off his rocker,” Kunip chimed in. He flinched under the collective heat of Zuko, Sokka, and Katara’s glare. “…we had no choice, Chief. Ozai is more concerned about facing Lu-Ten, that’ll be our only chance to go back for her. Especially with that…thing.” He pointed vaguely to the Fire God’s Prophet looming behind their ships. It was for the greater good, his words implied. What was one life to save thousands?
“Where’s Lu-Ten?” Lallo asked, scanning the skies with a sinking expression. The red dragon circled above the city. “Tenoch, what is he doing?”
The older Sun Warrior was grim. “He is waiting for his uncle,” he responded. “It’s the best place for him to be.”
Zuko worked his jaw. They were wasting time. Yet, at the same time, they were torn. There was only so much time to get the others away from the impact zone of the blasting jelly before the signal to detonate it came. He could see Tsephel above, herding the straggling soldiers towards the city proper. It wouldn’t matter, he thought. Twelve tons of potent blasting jelly would burn the whole caldera. His father was willing to die, even if it meant bringing the whole island with him. His father was under the illusion that the explosion would cause him to be reborn as a god. It was his motive all along. The Phoenix King’s quest for imperialism had been only a small part of his greater scheme.
Izon wheeled in the sky with a ferocious roar. His broad red wings stretched to their full length. Zuko could see Lu-Ten on the dragon’s back, leaning forward with the reins pulled taut. They circled over a quadrant of the capital and veered back toward the coastline with a determination that could only stem from neurosis.
Lallo was the first to take note. He held onto Zuko’s arm hard enough to bruise. “No…” The shorter man began to jump and wave his arms in a panic. “No, Lu-Ten, no! Lu-Ten, look down! No!” His voice grew hoarse and the others took up the cry, desperately trying to gain the dragonlord’s attention. Lallo ran and stumbled. He fell face first into the ground and scrambled to his feet. “Lu-Ten, no!”
Katara turned back to them. The Avatar’s young face sagged with resignation. “Rojhan,” she commanded the turncoat firebender. “Get the others to safety.”
The soldier’s yellow eyes widened. Jet shoved him aside, pulling Katara against him. “Don’t do this, Katara.” He shook her shoulders. Sokka was on her other side, pleading just as fervently. “Katara!” They cried as one. “Don’t!”
Their pleas fell on deaf ears. Katara brushed them aside. She leapt onto Lusa’s back, never looking away from the dragon that soared overhead. Tsephel and Dache had turned in a frenzied attempt to head Lu-Ten and Izon off. They were too late, Zuko knew. “Go!” Katara snapped. “Don’t just stand there, go!” The waterbender kicked Lusa’s ribs. The leopard caribou howled and followed her rider’s command, thundering away from them.
Sokka chased after her and fell, and rose and fell again, clawing his way up. His prosthetic leg failed him and he began to crawl, only to be pulled by his ankles by Tenoch and Kunip. The Tribesman cursed and howled. His ankle connected with Tenoch’s nose. “Let me go!” He wailed.
Lu-Ten and Izon flew over them, casting them in momentary darkness. They were nearly struck by a tendril of lightning and when Zuko turned his head, he saw Azula’s fingertips still crackling with electricity. It’s too late. It’s too late.
The water reflected Izon’s garnet colored scales. He and his rider approached the Fire God’s Prophet, their pace slowing as they drew closer. Zuko saw a flash of red-violet. And then suddenly a smaller dragon burst through the clouds in a flash of amaranthine wings. It let out a shrill cry.
Izara crashed into the larger dragon, flipping underneath him to latch onto his talons. Zuko could see Yaretzi clinging onto the magenta she-dragon’s reins, her thick hair flying wild as she held on desperately. Izara’s claws dug into Izon’s paws, anchoring herself to his formidable mass. She pulled against him, her screeching heard even on land, and the mighty snap of her fangs. Izon responded in turn, and though Zuko could not decipher the words, he could hear Yaretzi and Lu-Ten shouting at each other. The two beasts spiraled in a dizzying blur, locked together as they plummeted to the surface. At the last moment Izara tore away from Izon, rotating in the air to gain altitude. Izon flapped his wings, his claws dragging along the surface of the water.
Once more Izara launched herself at her mate, leading him away from the ship. Izon twisted and once more they locked talons, spinning and spiraling. Izara broke away and placed distance between them, her hind leg dragging behind her. Izon resumed his flight, angling himself above the Fire God’s Prophet.
Lu-Ten…no.
Izon inhaled. And then he washed the ship in a breath of red and orange fire.
There was a flash of white. The air rippled and grew unbearably hot, crackling and shattering the air with a burst of thunder. The water retracted into a tight core around the hull and formed a vortex. A metallic hum echoed in Zuko’s ears.
There was no time to scream. He watched helplessly as sparks of green and white ran along the length of the ship. The steel splintered and bulged outward, buckling under the strain of its own weight. The green light morphed into a blinding orange and there was another crack as the tons of blasting jelly ignited all at once, releasing a burst of energy that even the heavens felt. The sound was oddly muted.
The ship exploded, sending flaming chunks of metal in every direction. The force of the explosion forced the water into a massive tidal wave, arcing high above them, roaring towards the shore and sending death upon the Fire Nation. Zuko clung to his sister and the last thing he saw was the burning ocean rushing towards them. “Azula!” He cried, reaching for her hand. Her sharp nails dug into his forearm.
Zuko felt the heat first. Hotter than dragonfire. Burning burning burning. The image of Izon hovering over the sea imprinted itself on his eyelids. The heat dug deeper. It surrounded him, burning, burning, burning. He could feel nothing else.
And then the world went up in flames.
Chapter 65: Leave the World Behind
Notes:
*Plays Avatar theme song*
The next 2 chapters are lined up after writer's block hit me hard.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Katara
“I’ve never been good at Pai Sho,” Rojhan quipped as he studied the game board, scratching at his chin. He half-heartedly nudged a tile.
Tsephel snorted from where she sat on Katara’s left. “Like you’ve ever been good at anything. Oh right. Except for terrorizing people.” She kissed her teeth. “You’re going to lose playing like that.”
Katara sighed. She was beginning to think that it was a mistake gathering them all in her cabin. Even though it might be for the last time. She surveyed the crowded room. Sokka sat on the bed with Suki braiding his hair. Mika and Kunip were dozing. Jet’s head rested in her lap. It was the first time that they had a moment to simply breathe, she thought. After their departure there had been nothing but bloodshed and chaos. She knew the short respite would be short-lived.
The firebender squinted. He glanced across the table at his opponent, Zuko, who looked equally as puzzled. “Enlighten me, wise one. Your people created this game anyway.” He shifted and Tsephel floated to his side. She subtly leaned into him. “And I’m good at many things.”
“Like what?” The airbender snorted.
Toph slapped her hand against her forehead. “Here we go again.” The earthbender groaned.
Rojhan grinned mischievously. “I can show you whenever you’re willing to find out.” The young men in the cabin shared a collective laugh. Tsephel flushed red but did not move. Rojhan gestured to the Pai Sho board. “Your turn, Prince Zuko.”
The scarred Prince furrowed his brow. “Ishragha would insult me until I got it right,” he said. “Azumi Nao did too, but she wasn’t as… aggressive?” With methodical precision he moved the tiles in a pattern that Katara had seen before, clearing Rojhan’s game pieces in one fell swoop. He quirked his lips in a small smile of triumph. The other firebender leaned back in astonishment. “She always said that the path might fork, but it always arrives at the same destination. There’s plenty of ways to win, this is just the fastest.” Zuko looked up, looking about the room in a way that was almost bashful.
It was hard to imagine him as Yue’s husband. He was soft-spoken and honorable, prone to terrible puns and brooding. Katara found him pleasant enough, especially when compared to his cousin and his sister. Well. To say that Azula wasn’t that bad was like saying getting stabbed in the arm wasn’t that bad. It certainly wasn’t life threatening but far from pleasant. Their cousin even less so.
There was a general consensus that Lu-Ten was insane. Katara did not disagree. Considering he had nearly killed them when they took down the airships. She did not miss the subtle glances that the members of the Order of the White Lotus threw at each other when the man fell into his darker moods. I’m the great balancer of the world, she thought, and here I am helping the very man who might undo it all. She could only hope that her suspicions would not come to pass.
They were amongst the youngest of the Order’s members. For the first time in months Katara felt more like a teenage girl than the Avatar. Yet at dawn they would launch the final assault on the capital and eliminate the Phoenix King at last.
And rescue Yue.
Katara admitted rather shamefully that Yue had not been at the forefront of her mind during all their time apart. She had been first swept up in Jun’s endeavors as first her hostage and later her friend, and then her time with the Air Nomads had kept her from thinking of much else. The pangs of homesickness did not hurt so much as time passed, and she had found home in her brother’s arms when they finally reunited. Yue had no one. Even Zuko and Azula were gone from her, and she was left alone with the man that had shattered their peace and brutalized her. What would Yue look like now? She had been taller than Katara and more slender, with a grace that came more naturally to her than it did to Katara. She was more dignified, carved from ice rather than stone and snow, the epitome of the North. She was a Koi and they were Polar Bear Dogs. Yet part of Katara was glad that Yue had grown fangs in a court of snakes. She cast her attention back to the others in the room. They paid her no mind, save for Jet, whose dark eyes missed little. Their laughter rang throughout the hall.
They joined Lu-Ten and the elders at dinner. Azula, who had not participated in the board games, sat with her legs crossed, thrumming her talon-like nails against the table. Her sharp gaze landed on her brother, sharing a silent discussion that Katara knew all too well. It was the secret wordless language of brother and sister in which no sound was uttered but much was said. Lu-Ten’s eyes snapped from one pair of siblings to the other. Not in an accusatorial manner, but rather in a way that seemed envious. Zuko and Azula were his closest kin yet Lu-Ten had grown up away from any blood connections.
Lallo, the Sun Warrior, smiled broadly. “Let’s drink and be merry, hm?” He gestured to the open seats. His rictus grin was strained and the light did not reach his eyes.
Master Tenoch and Lord Dejen were seated on the other side of the table. The plates had already been placed before them. A sort of fish stew made with ginger and garlic, alongside diced onions and slow-cooked peppers. The sight of sliced papaya on a plate made Katara suppress a gag. Papaya had been one of Jun’s favorites, but Katara could never suffer the musky aftertaste of the fruit. She preferred mangoes and could tolerate dragonfruit, but she would rather lick dirt before eating that spirits-forsaken fruity abomination. With subtlety thrown to the wind, she nudged the plate as far away from her as she could.
Suki, who sat closest to her, quieted her chuckle behind her hand.
“Zuko, dear cousin,” Lu-Ten’s voice rang out, “describe the palace kitchens to me.”
Azula tensed but remained silent as Zuko sheepishly dropped his head. “There’s several,” he explained, “one is a dedicated bakery and confectionery for events and ceremonies like the Lighting of the Candles. The largest kitchen has five stoves and at least a dozen cooks. The head cook is Chef Quyen, he makes the best fire-roasted komodo-chicken. The Queen…” the Prince paused, “my mother had one of the kitchens entirely dedicated to preparing meals to deliver to impoverished families or children in the intermediate schools. She paid for their uniforms as well.” Both of the Fire Nation siblings seemed to withdraw into themselves, as if they were regressing into a time when their lives were much simpler. Azula wore her mask better than her brother.
Lu-Ten nodded slowly, as if he was savoring the words and crafting an image of a home he had never seen. “Yaretzi will thrive in that position.” He smiled broadly. His features softened and in that moment Katara saw that he was just a man madly in love with his wife. “Azula, you will be my wife’s flame and shield. I will entrust you with protecting her and my son. You will not harm your own kin.”
It was a thinly veiled threat, but Azula was not discomposed.
“Of course not,” Lallo said, “the Prince and Princess are leading us into the heart of the palace. It can be ascertained that they wouldn’t have wasted their time, no?” He was to follow the siblings as they infiltrated the palace grounds along with Jet, Suki, Kunip, and Toph. It had been decided that a small but skilled team would attempt to rescue Yue while the army secured the city. Katara would accompany Tsephel atop Dache just as they had in all the previous battles, providing support from above as they had before. “Besides, I’ll need their expertise in picking out my nice new beachfront property when I become a true Lord.”
“With a nice view!” Toph chirped.
Katara felt the ghost-touch of Jet’s fingertips on her knee, grounding her to the reality in front of her. It was easy to lose herself in the lives long gone and become immersed in memories that were not quite hers during idle moments. She blinked. Jet’s smile was reassuring and for her eyes alone. She squeezed his fingers in appreciation.
The meal passed without event. Lu-Ten departed with his cousins and advisors in tow. Katara left Jet and the others to their conversations, shadowing Sokka as they returned to their own cabin. She knew that some of the others had muttered that perhaps she was too clingy to her brother, that her desire to be close to him bordered upon obsession. Maybe there was some truth to it, she thought. But it was in their blood. They were Polar Bear Dogs, they were not meant to be separated from each other for too long. Yet the story of the civil war between Tuluqa and Eskaa also echoed in the Avatar’s memory. She could not allow her brother to ever become estranged from her as the twins from her memories had.
Sokka’s disposition had soured. He sat heavily on his bed, his hands trembling where they rested on his knees. His knuckles were white from gripping the fabric of his pants. When he looked up at her, the rims of his irises were red with despair. “I can’t do this anymore,” he said and then louder, “I can’t do this anymore.”
It took a moment for Katara to realize that he was not looking at her, but rather through her, as if she was little more than diaphanous parchment held to a lamp to show the world beyond. Sokka was not seeing her. Even though the room was shadowed, she could see the reflection of fires in his eyes and the glint of steel as swords crossed, and the unending rows of bodies piling upon each other. He inhaled deeply and gagged, and Katara knew that in his mind the air was redolent with the stench of blood and burning meat. Katara reached for his hands and pressed his palm against her cheek. She searched his face and hoped that he found something familiar in her own.
Her brother snatched away from her as if she had scorched him. His voice hardened. “This is pathetic,” he snapped, “you’re out there risking your life and here I am, just being a…being a cripple! What kind of man am I, Katara? I can’t fight! I’m not a warrior!”
For a moment exasperation washed over her before being quickly drowned by shame. Sokka had always taken pride in his physical prowess, making sure that his blade was just as sharp as his mind. He had never been one for self-pity. At least he hadn’t been before. But that had been before he had been nearly killed. The Sokka of Before was long dead, buried at sea with their father, sinking to the depths of the vast ocean. Katara blinked away hot tears. “So,” she teased shakily, pleadingly, “and I’m not smart or innovative like you, but that’s why Dad always told us to stick together. Don’t you remember?”
Sokka looked at her with the same distant glazed stare that Jet had, the same as Zuko and Rojhan and Suki and Lallo and all the others.
(Jet never cried, but during the night after the Fall of Saowan he had held onto Katara as if the tide might rip him away, and that had been the first time she saw the light drain from his eyes.)
“Sokka…” she tried again and the words caught in her throat, dry and thick like wool. Katara fell forward. “I want to go home.
It was his turn to comfort her then, drawing her against his chest and squeezing her shoulders. Katara felt like a child. How many times had she uttered those words? How many more? Tomorrow would come, she knew, and it would bring death in its coattails. But let it bring peace too, she thought, as gentle as a prayer, and she knew Sokka was thinking the same.
——-
You know what you must do.
The voice came from behind her. It was strangely androgynous, carrying an accent that Katara could not place. When she opened her eyes, she saw the universe sprawling before her, a vast and unending darkness sprinkled with pale stars. Katara turned, expecting to find her translucent likeness staring back at her. The astral plane was not unfamiliar. When she blinked, she found herself crouched under the shadow of the God Tree. The air was alive with the dull hum of mosquito-bats. The humidity was palpable. Sparkling waif-like phantoms passed through the upraised roots. They were shimmering and serpentine, barely larger than children, and they left a scent that was reminiscent of smoke. Their metallic tinkle sounded like peals of laughter. Katara turned slowly on her heel. Her arms hung leaden at her sides.
The man standing behind her was alarmingly familiar. He was tall and brown skinned, and his dark hair framed his squared jawline. His eyes were as blue as the ocean. For a moment she thought she was looking at Sokka. Upon his forehead was the symbol of the Polar Bear Dog. His smile was warm. Katara had almost forgotten what it looked like.
“Dad?”
Hakoda opened his arms.
Katara flew forward and crashed into him, burying her face into his chest. This isn’t real, she thought forlornly, and wondered why the spirit-gods had cursed her with a dream so sweet. She began to cry. “Dad! Dad! Papa!” He smelled just as she remembered. He smelled like home. “Papa!”
The spiritual apparition of her father held her at arms length. “Katara, look how you’ve grown.” The corners of his eyes wrinkled. “My fierce little princess. The world’s savior. I was wrong to keep you from your destiny.”
She withdrew from his embrace. Perhaps he was right. Would things have turned out differently if the Order of the White Lotus had been involved in her upbringing? Would the world have been a better place already? Would the spirit-gods have been more willing to spare mankind? “It’s all going to change when I wake up. Dad, I don’t want to wake up.”
“Water is the element of change, my pup, and you are of salt and sea. Winter runs deep in your blood.” Another voice emerged from the hum of the God Tree. From the roots appeared a woman with Katara’s face. Her mother joined them, linking her arm with her father’s, forming as striking a couple in death as they had in life. “The spirit-gods did not make you the Avatar just so you can turn tail and flee. That is not who you are.” With cool fingers she brushed Katara’s hair away from her eyes. “I was taken from you much too soon but I know this to be true. Protect your brother.”
“You know what you must do.” Hakoda and Kya’s voices blended together. “You are the Avatar,” they said in a thousand voices and one. “When the time comes, you must leave the world behind. And let go.”
They began to fade and splinter at the seams before dissipating into fragments of yellow light. They passed through Katara’s fingers, the tangible presence of them gliding over her skin like water. She grasped desperately at their auras in an attempt to pull them closer, whimpering like a child. “Come back,” she cried, “please, come back. You can’t leave me! Mom, Dad, please!”
The shards of light danced around her and caressed her skin like a mother’s kiss and a father’s hug. They were re-absorbed into the roots of the God Tree, guided into the afterlife by the flitting dragon specters and Katara dropped to her knees. She buried her hands in the dirt. Her vision distorted and stretched, twisting at the corners and pulsating in shades of blue and green. She felt the all-too-familiar pull at her chi. Katara resisted, clinging to the last vestiges of her parents’ presence. She did not want to wake up. Her only desire was to exist in that plane of abeyance where the world did not need her and where she could remain in the realm of not quite wakefulness.
The world around her bent and shifted. The ground opened to swallow her. Katara tumbled forward with a soundless scream. She flailed her arms. Just as her body made impact, the ground enveloped her, pulling her through the darkness until she found herself in a tranquil garden. A gentle canal ran through the greenery upon which resting floating iridescent pink lotus blossoms. Fat orange and white koi fish darted amongst the broad leaves. From the stooping vines hung paper lanterns and stone beasts perched on the edge of the water.
Katara pushed herself to a standing position. The water was crystalline, reflecting the branches and cloudless sky above, and its gurgle was like a lullaby. The carefully curated landscape came alive in a symphony of fluttering wings and birdsong. Katara raised her head to peer across the canal.
On the other side kneeled a woman with her hands on the ground in front of her, staring down into the water. The sides of her face were decorated with red tattoos that began at her temples and ran down her neck before continuing down her shoulders and spine. As if sensing Katara’s presence, she lifted her head. There was a pulsating light surrounding her, causing her bronze skin to shimmer.
Katara knew her.
The Sun Priestess gasped. Yaretzi gaped and her head snapped around to survey her surroundings just as Katara did the same. Katara raised her hands and brought them down to part the waters, revealing a pathway across the streambed. With hurried feet she crossed the distance and skidded to a halt across from the firebender. Yaretzi stood. Katara knew that the dragonkeeper had the ability to bend fire until it was magic, but she had not known that Yaretzi was able to traverse through the physical realm and into the spiritual. Judging from the astonishment on the priestess’s countenance, she hadn’t either.
The princess and the witch stared at each other, neither daring to speak lest they shatter the fragile illusion that hung suspended betwixt them.
Yaretzi’s breath audibly rattled in her chest. She had stayed behind while the rest of them pressed on to claim the Fire Nation capital. “When I asked the Great Mother to grant me insight, I did not expect this.” It occurred to Katara that the priestess was jesting, a rarity in comparison to her light-hearted brother.
“Where are we?” Katara asked. As Sokka would say: ‘Might as well address the elephant-goat in the room.’
Yaretzi shook her head. “A garden of the gods,” she answered and then added sheepishly, “I think.”
Katara bit her tongue. It didn’t bode well for them if the priestess had no clue where they were in the spirit world. “I saw my parents,” she said, “I’m dreaming.” Talk about Captain Obvious.
Yaretzi touched a nearby leaf and rolled it between her fingers. “Citlali showed me a vision.” Her features softened with a deep sadness and when she looked at Katara, the Avatar thought that she had never seen someone so resigned to their fate. “I must join you soon.”
“Why?” The princess asked.
The dragonkeeper grew increasingly somber. Her eyes darted away from Katara and she took a step back. “Sometimes a dragon cannot feel the burn of its own fire,” she said cryptically.
And then Katara woke up.
The sound of metal clinking caused her to open her eyes. Jet stood at the foot of the bed. He adjusted his gauntlets quietly. He faced away from her. He wore the same bronze shoulder plates and from his belt hung a curved dagger. His twin swords were propped against the wall. He had crept into her room in the middle of the night, amused by the fact that he had seen Suki tiptoeing in the direction of Sokka’s quarters. They had wordlessly sworn each other to secrecy lest Sokka burst a vein in apoplexy. Upon hearing Katara stir he glanced over his shoulder. He grinned lopsidedly. “You were muttering in your sleep,” he said, “but I couldn’t understand you.”
Katara considered her response. Jet did not understand her visions and strange dreams (who did?) yet he remained supportive of her all the same. She decided against it. What insight could he offer her? Especially hours before the battle?
Hours before he might die.
He was to join Zuko and the others in the attempt to drive the Phoenix King from his palace along with Yue. Part of her was selfishly grateful that he would not face the firebenders as he had previously. She thanked the spirit-gods that Jet could not hear her thoughts. Katara rose and embraced him, taking his gauntlets into her own hands and fastening them. Jet permitted her, resting his palm against her cheek and pulling her closer until his lips brushed her forehead. “I’ll come back to you,” he said, “I promise.”
In this life and the next. Katara closed her eyes and when she reopened them, together they left to face the wars to come.
Already the morning was abuzz with anticipation. Katara found Sokka on the deck with the Fire Nationers. Lu-Ten and his cousins were a dignified trio. Izon, Lu-Ten’s bonded dragon, circled overhead. Yaretzi’s words came to her. ‘A dragon cannot feel the burn of its own fire.’ Lu-Ten was practically preening himself in joy. The throne that he coveted was at last within reach. At the expense of thousands of lives. Katara had not forgotten the sheer terror that she had felt when Izon had destroyed the airships, including the one that she and Sokka had hijacked.
The soldiers and elders of the Order of the White Lotus bowed to her as she passed, shadowed by her loyal bandit-turned-sworn guard. Lu-Ten greeted her with begrudging respect, no doubt questioning the authority of a teenager ten years his junior. Katara set her jaw. One of the soldiers had brought Lusa topside. Her beloved leopard caribou crossed the distance to her and nuzzled Katara until she threw her arms around Lusa’s muscular neck. “Not yet,” she whispered into her mount’s ear.
Tsephel was uncharacteristically (but unsurprisingly) anxious. The Nomad trotted back and forth, her steps accentuated by her airbending, her gray eyes shifting from Dache in the sky and the others on the ship.
The sun glistened on the waves.
Katara had never seen anything more beautiful. Her friends surrounded her in a cluster of nations and nationalities, each as important and lovely as the rest. She offered no words to Sokka, knowing that she would fall apart if she did. But he understood all the same. Silently they promised to return to each other, as they always had, even if it meant crossing continents.
Tsephel summoned Dache with her whistle. The flying bison descended and the soldiers on the topside parted to give her space to land. Lusa chuffed. “Wonder Boy!” The nun teased, “remember what I said. I don’t want her to cause a blizzard because you got hurt. Or a tornado. Or an earthquake. Or a volcanic eruption. Or all four at the same time.” She climbed into Dache’s saddle. “Be safe, you yellow-eyed menace,” she glared at Rojhan, “I guess. Not like I’d care.”
Toph flashed her teeth. “She’s lying.”
Katara joined Tsephel, tightening the strap on her canteen. She wouldn’t need it, she knew, but it was a comfort all the same. Their role would keep them close to the shore and far from any hand-to-hand combat. As they took off, she turned back to watch the flagship grow ever smaller and the people upon it smaller still. Izon was not far behind, a blood-red cloud against a blue sky, and absently she thought of Yaretzi.
‘I must join you soon.’
“I’m thinking about a nice vacation after this,” Tsephel sang after what felt like a heartbeat, an hour. “Beachfront, sipping coconut juice and being fanned by five handsome men.”
Katara brushed her hair out of her face and tried not to look down at the battlefield below as the bloodshed commenced. “Is Rojhan included in that number?”
The Air Nun rotated slowly, her gray eyes smoldering before she snorted in dismissal. “If we weren’t in the middle of a war zone, I’d push you off right now.” A thin smirk played on her lips. “But maybe.” Her mirth died. The war had stolen her free-spirit, just as it had stolen Katara’s. And Jet’s. And Sokka’s.
Katara could not forget her brother’s hoarse wails as he held Touqa as he died in his arms. Touqa had been a brother to them in all but blood. They kept his ashes safely hidden away, tucked in a fireproof box along with the sapphire enhydro that Katara had never lost. He would be returned to the sea from whence they all came and receive a true Water Tribe Warrior’s funeral. Pauqa as well. All of the fallen peninsular natives and Arakemeti and Omashian soldiers would be returned to their homeland to be given the honors respective to their cultures. Katara tried not to think of the carnage that she had seen.
It was not the first time, the Avatar Spirit knew, nor would it be the last. She (they) were well familiar with war. Humans had fought each other for thousands of years for reasons more petty than a crown. But Katara (true Katara, the princess of the Southern Water Tribe) had never seen a man clutching his entrails to hold them in his belly, or watched a man crumble into ash after being washed in dragonfire. She had never heard soul-shattering screams of pain and loss and grief that rang in her ears like terrible bells.
Despite having fewer men, the soldiers of the caldera fought vigorously. She wasn’t sure why. The Phoenix King had shown time and time again that he would sacrifice them all. If he didn’t kill them himself first. It was easy to think of them as inanimate objects from above rather than people, and it made their task easier. The war did not exist in the clouds.
From this height, the Fire Nation’s capital was the epitome of splendor. It shone like a ruby in the sun. The city proper rose in high pagodas and tiled roofs that snaked down the cobblestone hills towards the wharf. Beyond, in the heart of the crater, was the palace.
Small fires dotted the edge of the city where the first troops had pressed their advantage. Their lines formed a green serpentine beast that crept slowly but deliberately up the hills, constricting whatever resistance that crossed its path. Katara was no tactician, nor had martial history been an interest of hers as a child, but she knew that urban warfare was one of the ugliest forms of combat there was. The honor codes of war demanded that no innocent child be harmed. But a child was not so innocent with a jar of blasting jelly in their hand.
By Katara’s estimate, Zuko and the others were within the palace grounds. Dache managed to safely deliver them to the drainage tunnel. Katara had watched them disappear into the darkness, her heart in her throat, and prayed to every god listening to be merciful.
Izon roared as he scorched a path for the Omashians to continue their assault. Plumes of black smoke billowed overhead, darkening the skies. Dache bellowed as she dropped low, allowing Katara to draw up a wave to push the soldiers closer. Tsephel ordered the flying bison to make another pass.
Dropping her arms, Katara squinted to make out an approaching black dot on the horizon. It grew increasingly, impossibly, alarmingly large, flanked by smaller shapes that flocked about like black birds. Katara dug her nails into Tsephel’s forearm and pointed. “What is that?”
Her companion followed the line of her finger and a hundred emotions crossed over Tsephel’s countenance. “The Fire God’s Prophet,” she said in half a whisper. “No.”
Katara tore her eyes away from the ship and looked back at the city. The fighting had spread across the outskirts, entire city blocks crumbling into rubble as the islanders met the earthbenders with firebending and swords. Her gaze returned to the shoreline. Katara spotted Lusa’s gray form galloping over the sand dunes and ditches. Sokka held onto the reins. The leopard caribou carried him without hesitation. Though she was bonded with Katara, their kindred spirits recognized the princess’s love for her brother, and she allowed Sokka to guide her. Her brother was making his way towards the city behind the army, accompanied by Mika and Rojhan, as well as the elder Tenoch. The First Spears were not far behind, pushing the urging troops forward as they abandoned the armada.
Dache needed no instruction. With a flap of her tail she angled in the direction of the wharves. Katara gripped the edge of the saddle until her knuckles were white. Zuko’s description of the warship did not compare to the monstrosity closing in on them. The sight of it made her ill. The smaller vessels were inconsequential in comparison.
“Tsephel,” Katara said through gritted teeth, “take us down.”
Tsephel stiffened. “Katara…” she began. Katara’s command needed no words. The Air Nomad steeled over, tightening her resolve with a stern lip and a rigid nod. “Dache, yip yip.”
The flying bison tucked her legs against her belly. She fell into a steep dive. At the last moment her tail flared to slow her descent, bringing them to the ground in a flurry of stone and sand. Katara swung herself over the lip of the saddle and landed in a crouch before throwing herself at Lusa. The leopard caribou halted in front of her. Sokka’s face had gone pale. Katara had never seen Rojhan so panic-stricken. Was he imagining his brother, who had met a terrible fate?
“Well,” Sokka deadpanned, “the second half of the welcoming party is here. It doesn’t get much worse than this!”
Mika ran his fingers through his hair. “We came as soon as the scouts gave the call. I don’t know how it even got here so quickly- that thing is huge.” The Water Tribe warrior suddenly looked very young. His irises were the size of ice discs. “This was the Phoenix King’s plan all along. What do we do?”
“Try not to die,” Tsephel and Sokka retorted in tandem.
Rojhan fell into the mantle of commander as if it were a second skin. “Tsephel, get Mika and as many stragglers as far inland as you can.” He scanned the sky for any sign of Lu-Ten. “Go with them, Katara.”
The waterbender shook her head vehemently. “No.” She argued. “I’m not.”
Rojhan whirled on her with serpentine speed and the Tribesmen instinctively moved forward. The turncoat shot them a mollifying glance. “Katara,” he pleaded, “you’re the world’s only hope. We can’t lose you.”
Katara lifted her chin. “That’s exactly why I’m not leaving.”
You know what you must do.
Rojhan sighed in resignation. He turned to Tsephel and his frown softened. For a moment it appeared to Katara that they saw nothing but each other. “I’ll see you soon,” he echoed the promise that Katara had made to Jet. Rojhan cleared his throat. “Now go.”
Tsephel offered no argument. Mika joined her, leaving the three of them on the ground. Katara faced back to the sea. Amongst the clouds she saw a phantom flash of pearlescent red-violet that disappeared as quickly as it came. “Jet and the others should be returning any moment now with Yue.” They would come back through the drainage tunnel. Katara did not know what condition they would find Yue in. Ozai was too far gone to use her as a bargaining chip.
The leather of Lusa’s saddle was warm when Katara took her place upon it. Her brother was solemn. She dug her heels into Lusa’s sides. Lusa responded in a determined leap, tossing her antlered head with a glad cry. She began to gallop from whence she had come, leading the way as Rojhan reclaimed his komodo-rhino.
Sokka clutched on desperately, wincing at every time Lusa’s rough gait threw him forward and caused him to sway. “Just in case you forgot, I’m missing a leg! I’m not exactly a prime chamelo-horse racer. That might be a new hobby, though.” Lusa purposely tossed her hind legs to jostle him. The young warrior yelped.
Lusa’s broad paws covered ground quickly. She slowed as they came upon the entrance of the subterranean tunnel. Seven figures were gathered and even from the distance, Katara could sense the hot tension pouring from them. Her gut twisted. Zuko pointed an accusatory finger at Azula, his scarred face contorted with an impassioned rage. A frigid bead of foreboding went down Katara’s spine. Seven of them had gone into the city and seven returned. Yue was nowhere to be seen.
Yue was nowhere to be seen.
Katara dared not assume the worst. Suki was the first to see them. Her auburn hair was plastered to her forehead where her white warpaint had been smudged by perspiration. Her frown was apologetic. Katara went cold. She turned to Zuko. “Where is Yue?”
The Fire Nation Prince faltered. A cloud of despair crossed his face, casting his already fair skin into such a sickly pallor that Katara feared he might faint. His one good eye glistened. Lallo was the one to speak. “We don’t have Yue,” he said, “but we’re running out of time. I do hate to be the harbinger of bad news, but…” Lallo drifted off, focusing on something in the sky over Katara’s shoulder. She watched a myriad of emotions pass over his face, each more dismayed than the last.
Katara looked back.
Izon had risen higher as his great crimson shadow circled towards them. He loomed like blood on the horizon. Although she could not see Lu-Ten’s face, she could imagine the glint of mania that overtook him. They were headed to the Fire God’s Prophet. His intentions were clear.
And she could not allow him.
The others protested as she mounted Lusa, tugging at her arms in an attempt to stop her. Katara shrugged them off one by one, setting her jaw in determination even as Jet begged her to reconsider. Her mind hummed like a thousand bees. She was vaguely aware of Sokka being dragged away by Tenoch and Kunip even as Lusa broke away from the group. She spurred Lusa onward. It was too late, she knew, but she had to try. As they bounded over the sand, Katara pulled water to her with a rotation of her wrists. She tracked Izon’s path.
Once more she caught sight of shimmering magenta colored wings descending from the sky, having been hidden by the glaring sunlight. Izara slammed into the ferocious dragon with an ear-piercing shriek. Her talons extended and latched onto Izon’s, causing both riders to be tossed about. Katara could see the she-dragon digging her claws into the other’s legs, her teeth gnashing in an attempt to grab ahold of the larger dragon. With interlocked talons they pierced the skyline, their garnet shaded hues merging into one against the pale blue tapestry. Their roars were deafening.
It was terrifyingly mesmerizing. Their scales shimmered like polished glass and their teeth shone like pearl-coated steel. They spun and spiraled. Their battle was ritualistic, a sort of primordial dance that looked less like a duel and more like magic. The song of warring dragons filled the air. Izara threw them into a plummeting roll. Her wings beat furiously even as she continued to snap at Izon’s chest and wing membranes. Her cries were almost pleading, as furious as they were aggrieved, yet still she clung to her mate. They fell from the sky in a illustrious swirl of red, their riders clinging for their lives as the dragons split from each other.
Izara flapped her wings to climb higher. Katara could see Yaretzi atop the she-dragon’s back and for a brief heartbeat it was as if their eyes met and in that fleeting moment they shared a sort of resigned understanding.
Katara kissed Lusa’s head between her antlers and leapt from the saddle. The leopard caribou whined. Her rider wasted no time. She called the sea to her, willing it to form a wave under her feet. It shifted to ice and in fluid motions Katara began to skate towards the hovering dragon. Izara furled her wings against her body and dove earthward, rotating in the air as Yaretzi leaned over with her hand outstretched.
Yaretzi’s hand caught Katara’s wrist. The priestess grunted at the effort as she hauled Katara onto Izara’s back. Katara, panting heavily, clung to the young woman’s waist.
‘Sometimes a dragon cannot feel the burn of its own fire.’
“How did you know to come?” She inquired.
The priestess’s smile was slow and sad. “I do not know. I felt a pull on my spirit and I knew it was time. It…it pains me as much as it pains Izara.” Her voice rattled and when she faced Katara fully, the young woman’s dark eyes shimmered with an indescribable grief. “The Great Mother told me that I must join you. And that Lu-Ten must be stopped before he destroys us all.” Yaretzi clenched her jaw and tightened her hold on the reins, wrapping the leather-coated rope several times over her hand. She leaned forward and snapped the reins, and with a wordless cry she ordered Izara to fly.
“Hang on,” Yaretzi said sharply and then more quietly, “please.”
Katara did as she was told.
Izara worked furiously to gain altitude, nearly vertical as they passed mere feet from Izon, close enough that Katara could see Lu-Ten’s confused and irate expression. He shouted but the words were lost to the wind. Yaretzi had gone stiff with determination, urging Izara ever higher until cloud-mist clung to their hair. Only then did the dragon pause.
And then she began to dive.
Katara screamed but her breath was snatched from her throat. She tucked her face against Yaretzi’s back and prayed to whatever spirit-god present. Izara cut through the air like an arrow, as sleek as a tiger-seal, and extended a claw. Katara decided that she was not suited for dragon-battle, no matter how many of her past lives had engaged previously. Yaretzi held on as if she was made for it, pressed against Izara’s neck as they closed the space between them and Lu-Ten. The wind burned Katara’s eyes but she refused to close them. Yaretzi’s intentions dawned upon her. She meant to pluck Lu-Ten from Izon’s back. It was the only way to save him from himself.
“Lu-Ten!” Yaretzi shouted. “You must stop this! You’ll kill us all!”
The golden-eyed dragonlord looked up at them, his gaze piercing but distant, as if he was entrapped in a dark world of his own creation from which only destruction would (could) save him. “My uncle wishes to be reborn amidst flames,” he called back, “but he is no true Phoenix. And if he wishes to burn, then who am I not to oblige?”
Izara attempted once more to maneuver over her mate, but fury and madness had overtaken them both. Izon bellowed a warning and lashed out with fang and claw. The larger dragon refused to let Izara take the advantage. Izon flipped over, tossing Izara and her riders off-kilter in a dizzying spin, as easily as if he was shrugging off a flea. She fell away from him, her wings snapping open to halt her tumble. Katara swallowed the bile that burned her throat. The sea spray dampened her skin.
Izon was flying away from them before the she-dragon could regain her balance. Despite her best efforts, the fatigued dragoness could not close the distance between them. Yaretzi pressed on yet to no avail. Izon closed in on the Fire God’s Prophet. Fire built in his throat.
“No!”
The world became oddly silent except for the thunder of blood rushing through her ears.
The light was blinding. It seemed to happen slowly yet all at once. Izon’s flames engulfed the ship, swallowing it in a wave of red and white. The ship ignited like prime kindling. For a heartbeat it glowed white-hot before the steel and blasting jelly within caught fire. The Fire God’s Prophet caved in upon itself, sending streams of green light and endless waves of rolling heat over the sea.
Izara flew away from the shockwave before it could reach her, barrel-rolling through the air. Katara dared look back. The sight of the vessel exploding scorched an imprint on her eyelids. The heat curled around them like grasping fingers. She could feel it reaching to drag them down and try though she might, Izara could only barely evade the waves of smoke and boiling water that dared consume them. Katara lost sight of Izon. Molten shards of metal rained down around them, forming a sort of apocalyptic hellscape that left sharp knives of terror in her spine. The surge consumed the coastline, setting aflame everything it touched.
The ocean was on fire.
‘When the time comes, you must leave the world behind. And let go.’
The force of the explosion would soon overtake them. Katara thought of the innocent lives that would soon be lost. She thought of all of those that had already been taken too soon, caught up in wars that should not have been fought. She thought of Aang and Roku and Kyoshi and Yangchen. Katara loosened the grip that Yaretzi had on her wrist and allowed herself to slide from the safety of Izara’s back. She closed her eyes as she pitched herself backwards.
And then she let go.
Katara felt herself falling upwards. Her spirit separated from her body, falling away from everything around her. Every chakra burned hot and true. The threads of the universe stretched out before her and shone silver, crossing and weaving to form a tapestry of all that was and all that would ever be. She spun in the air, spreading her fingers as she extended her arms and pulling at the beads of reality that spread far beyond her grasp. The air rippled and ricocheted back to her before seeming to bend and crackle.
A vortex of water encased her legs, hoisting her into the air above the dragons. Her mortal eyes saw Izon falling away, his scales cloaked in scalding blasting jelly. He was riderless. Katara swept her arms up, bringing with her a wave to rival the most violent of tsunamis. She clenched her fist, feeling the threads of the mortal realm pass through her fingers like wet silk. She- Aang, Roku, Kyoshi, Kuruk, Yangchen and all the others- reached and pulled.
The earth and the water and air began to move as one. Every hair stood on end. She could see the fraying ends of the world's thread and flashes of yellow and violet light reflected the burning ship. The threshold hovered in front of her. Hastened by the sea, Katara opened the portal between space and time and crossed over.
The Avatar Spirit consumed her. Her body was a mere vessel as she forced the water to adhere to her commands. She pushed and the waves followed suit, tossing pieces of molten metal and what could only be severed parts of what were once men. Katara weaved in between the falling shards of the ship that fell like blazing meteors. She tightened her fists and brought her arms up before spreading them in a sweeping gesture. She parted the burning sea, causing the halves to fall away from each other, tossing the Fire God’s Prophet over the waves. Her arms began to work in furious circles, extinguishing the fire and transforming it to ice in the same fluid movement. It formed a tightening chrysalis. Her own waterbending would have never been able to execute such a feat. Her bending was fueled by the power of energybending and the knowledge of her past lives. The Avatar, it was known, was the closest thing to a god that a mortal could ever become.
In the eyes of many, she was a god.
Katara dragged her fingers and raked the air. She was Yangchen, she was Meisun, she was Nuka. The Avatar snapped her curled fingers and a spider web of cracks formed along the surface of the iceberg she had created around the ship. It splintered and shattered.
The force of the implosion sent her flying backwards. The Avatar struck the surface of the waterand Katara felt herself fall back into her body. She flailed her arms and churned her legs as the vast disturbance dragged her underneath the turbulent waters that had filled the shrapnel and limbs. Katara gasped for air, only to inhale salt water. Panic surged through her as she felt a tugging on her legs, causing her to sink further.
Lu-Ten held onto her legs, kicking desperately. Through the murky water she saw his golden eyes wide and pleading with terror. He attempted to grab onto her shirt and shoulders yet it only caused the both of them to plunge further. Katara’s lungs screamed.
With the last vestiges of strength remaining, Katara propelled them to the surface. They broke through. The young woman sputtered and gagged, holding onto Lu-Ten’s shoulders as if to anchor herself to them. The firebender wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled them backwards onto a nearby slab of steel, gasping for air as he set her down beside him. Katara rolled onto her belly and vomited. The sting of saltwater burned her throat. Her eyelids fluttered. She turned her head.
Izon’s body, burned and scalded by the blasting jelly, floated past them. Half of him had been rendered near unrecognizable. One of his wings had nearly been torn in half. He had been within the epicenter of the explosion. From his body emitted particles of light, the essence of the spirit world that gave dragons their magic, dissipating in the air as he sank to the depths.
She was acutely aware of Lu-Ten leaning over the edge, sobbing and throwing up in turns. His left side was blistered and weeping. Sensing Katara’s eyes upon her, the man turned slowly to face her. His face crumpled and he began to cry in earnest, and with the destruction and devastation surrounding them, Katara absently thought that he looked like a lost child.
This is your fault, she thought. Pain had dug its talons into every nerve and vein until she felt numb. She could only focus on the indifferent sky above. She felt herself slipping in and out of the Avatar State, yet her mind and body were too weak to let go. The last thing she saw was Lu-Ten’s pale face hovering above her and the dull hum of his voice. This is your fault. Perhaps she had spoken the words aloud. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She blinked long and slow.
Suddenly she was above them where the darkness of the galaxy met the sky. Katara peered down. The scene before her was apocalyptic. Though she had suppressed the absolute force of the explosion, it was ultimately too late. The lowest part of the Fire Nation capital was on fire. She could hear the screams. The flames ravaged the buildings, greedily consuming all that it touched. Pagodas and temples and tenement buildings alike met the same fate. They fell like toy blocks that had been kicked by a petulant child.
This is my fault.
If she had been faster or stronger. If she had only been smarter to realize what was about to happen sooner. This is my fault. This is my fault. I’m like the others who’ve failed. This is my fault-
Katara could almost imagine that she heard her parents’ voices. They were far away while she hung suspended in this strange limbo and for a brief heartbeat she wondered if she was still alive.
“Avatar.”
The previous reincarnations of the Avatar Spirit appeared before her. Their eyes glowed white. There were faces that she recognized but did not know their names, their souls as familiar as her own.
One of them drew closer, a haggard man who had died in his thirties, with the hollow frown of a man who had seen too much and had done too little. “Avatar,” he said in a thousand voices in one, “now is not the time.”
“At times you must be the leaf. At others you must be the wind.” Their words echoed around her. “Be the wind.”
The leathery snap of wings caused her to gasp for air. She sat up abruptly. Izara hovered close to them. Yaretzi peered over the dragon’s shoulder. Wordlessly she extended her hand to assist Katara onto Izara’s back. When she faced Lu-Ten a shadow of dismay came over her face. Izara seemed to mirror her emotion with a high pitched squawk. It sounded like a cry of grief. Perhaps it was. Her mate’s corpse had disappeared under the wreckage. After a long pause she allowed Lu-Ten to grasp her arm and with only a slight struggle she pulled him up. Katara had forgotten that Yaretzi was more than a priestess. Despite her small stature, she was an archer and master firebender. They exchanged no words.
What was there to say? This is his fault.
Katara dared look down. The remnants of the ice-encapsulated ship floated around them and the lifeless, ruined bodies of the men aboard the Fire God’s Prophet. The remains of them at least. She saw only heads and limbs and scattered debris that might have once been armor. Ozai had condemned them to death the moment they boarded the ship. Lu-Ten only lit the fire.
Izara brought them closer to the ravaged caldera. Plumes of smoke billowed. The vestiges of the trebuchets and other war equipment were reduced to little more than smoldering rubble. The bodies of firebenders and earthbenders alike dotted the sand where they had fallen, either slayed in the initial invasion or killed by the tidal wave. She spotted small tents hastily made by earthbenders and she wondered how many survivors were buried within.
The wails grew louder, forming an incessant cacophony that would forever haunt her. The citizens of the capital and soldiers scrambled over each other to escape. They were only silhouettes in the gray fog of soot. Women tripped as they frantically carried their children. Through a brief respite of the hazard, she saw a woman holding her baby fall upon the cracked cobblestone. Two earthbenders slowed to help her to her feet, forming a shield around her to protect her from being trampled by the stampede. Others lagged behind with Fire Nation soldiers, using what materials they could to stop the spread of the fire and to prevent the collapse of the buildings on the fleeing crowd.
Lu-Ten had turned to stone. He scanned the aftermath of his actions. There was no time to think of their next steps. Katara spotted a cluster of blue and green amidst the horde. With a sigh of relief she saw Lusa. “There!” She exclaimed. Her heart skipped. Her friends were all together. Tsephel flew over the streets, using her airbending to expel the flames but her efforts were in vain.
“Yaretzi,” Katara said, “take me to Tsephel.”
Yaretzi spoke no words but her brown eyes said plenty. When she looked at the Avatar, Katara saw the reflection of burning cities and the dead in her irises. She tugged on Izara’s reins. The dragon tilted towards Dache’s direction. Tsephel spun around and cried out in disbelief. She dropped her staff, mouth agape. She wiped away tears, dragging Katara to her chest as soon as Izara deposited her atop Dache. The Air Nomad’s shoulders shook. She held Katara at arms length.
“There’s no time,” Katara brushed Tsephel’s hands away. She watched as Izara took off yet again in the direction of the city’s interior with Yaretzi and Lu-Ten on her back, casting a long shadow over the ruined streets. She blinked away the tears that threatened to fall. There was no time. She had to save the people of the caldera. It was her duty. It was her destiny.
Tsephel nodded and upon Dache’s back they fell into step with each other, moving with the grace of a blossom in spring, mirroring each other as one raised their arms and the other lowered theirs. Dache carried them effortlessly. Together they stirred the wind, forming a vortex of air that danced over the burning buildings. Each one winked out like a candle. Tsephel rotated in methodical circles with her spine pressed against Katara’s. They moved like the ebb and flow of the tides, as sure and assertive as the river, and as elegant as dancing willows. The earthbenders and firebenders continued their work below, all four elements coming together. As it should be. Katara drew from the wells and sent down torrents of water, dousing whatever she could reach. The corners of her vision pulsed and blackened yet still she continued, even when her arms felt leaden and her knees wobbled and buckled.
She collapsed just as Tsephel extended her arms to catch her. The airbender cradled her head as if she was a newborn. “Damn it, Katara,” she cursed in a halfhearted whisper. Tsephel set her down. “I’ve got you,” she said as Katara’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. “I’ve got you.” She clasped Katara’s hand yet the Avatar could not find the strength to tighten her grip.
They passed blindly through the smog and Katara imagined that she saw the apparitions of her parents with their arms open to receive her, welcoming her home.
Notes:
RIP Izon
Yue's (penultimate) chapter is up next.
Chapter 66: Fall of Giants
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Yue
For two days she hid the ampoule under her bed, only withdrawing it under the cover of nightfall. She contemplated throwing the poison out of the window. Yue chose to store it under her bed, far away from Tui, whose curiosity would surely lead to her sticking her nose into the vial. Kingmaker. Yue pondered the name. Kingkiller in this case. For two days Yue weighed her options.
Lord Chaeyang and Lady Azmera had continued to dine, as if they had not just conspired to kill the Phoenix King, and Yue dined with them. She had felt like a vagabond, creeping from the newly appointed advisor’s solar under. What foul whispers would arise if she was seen? Lord Tzumoro would surely be apoplectic.
Princess Yue of the Northern Water Tribe, the Jewel of the Fire Nation, the Kingslayer.
Sokka would say that it had a nice ring to it.
Yue considered it. If she were to follow through with the Order’s plans then she would forever be spoken of in infamy by the Fire Nation. Or maybe not. Yue twirled the vial of poison, rolling the bottle over her palm and memorizing the smooth glass with the pad of her thumb. It was just after dawn. Ozai would be in the crypts or the library. He would be skeptical of her bringing him tea, especially at such a strange hour. His patience with her only went so far. She had never seen the man drink alcohol of any sort.
‘You can end this war.’
Tui huffed from where she laid on the bed. Her tail thumped against the pillow. Yue leaned back, laying her head against the dog’s flank. It was easy to forget that the archipelago was teeming with Lu-Ten’s forces, being as insulated as she was in the walls of the palace. Her only genuine company was Tui.
Maya entered quietly, as she often did. Yue could see why Ursa had found her so valuable. The young woman was as discreet as a mouse. Yue would not jeopardize herself by making the mistake of trusting the servant anymore than she had to. They were cordial, arguably even passable friends if one was to be generous. Yue fumbled to stash the vial away before Maya could notice, forcing a smile that did not reach her eyes. If the Fire Nationer noticed then she did not show it. “Princess, I hate to disturb you, but Lord Tzumoro asked me if you would like to accompany him to Queen Suraya’s Home of Loved Children? Unfortunately his wife Lady Rhaesame has fallen ill and he would much prefer a familiar feminine face to greet the children.” Her look was pointed.
Tzumoro had secretly been using his own coin to smuggle children from the orphanages and spirit them away to insignificant islands far from the caldera, covertly drawing money from the treasury to fund the endeavor and buy the treasury committee’s silence. Yue wasn’t sure how long the man had been doing it, only that his wife Rhaesame (whose name suggested that she hailed from the same place as Chaeyang’s ancestors) led the effort. Yue had only become aware of his actions when he had momentarily lapsed in a recent conversation. The man’s sly countenance had betrayed him for once. He had sworn Yue to secrecy.
But really, who would she tell?
Yue sat upright and motioned for Maya to fetch Tui’s leash. Tui leapt to her feet, ever eager for a moment to step outside of the palace walls, and licked Maya’s hand. The white polar dog had wiggled her way into the domestic staff’s good graces. “An informal outing, I hope?” She had little desire to shift through her dresses to pick one that suited the mood of the outing. It was something she had seen Ursa do. Red and gold for triumph, burgundy for appearing matronly, black and brown for modesty. Why did it matter? The capital had turned against the Crown, and no amount of Yue’s pretty presence would change it. She was grateful that she had taken a long bath. Yue quickly chose a simple magenta qi-pao and leggings, slipping her feet into austere sandals. Maya waited patiently, passing the time by rubbing Tui’s belly. Yue elected to forgo her tiara and instead allowed her hair to hang loose. It would be better to appear as proletarian as possible, she decided.
Maya led Yue and Tui to the palanquin that awaited them. Lord Tzumoro, true to his word, stood outside with his arms crossed over his chest. The dark half-circles under his eyes betrayed his fatigue. He was unsmiling.
“Princess.” He acknowledged her curtly. Yue climbed into the palanquin and patted the space beside her for Tui to settle at her side. Lord Tzumoro followed, falling heavily into the seat across from her. He rapped his knuckles on the side of the litter and the litter-bearers began their departure. The Minister of Intelligence shot a glance at the large white dog but did not speak.
“I hope Lady Rhaesame recovers soon. Little Tsura and Rokuro are fine, yes?” She had seen less and less of the man’s family. His wife Rhaesame was naturally a reclusive woman. She was not unkind, but she was guarded and of few words. Tsura’s agreeable nature made up for it.
Tzumoro sighed. “Just a cough, thank Agni. She aches to go back to our home island.” He drummed his fingers on the side of the palanquin.
The rest went unspoken.
Yue saw no children playing in the front yards of the orphanage when they arrived. Not even the older children who were granted a degree of more freedom than the smaller ones. She followed the older man as he stepped down from the palanquin. Tui gracefully came to her side. Her tail wagged. The children had loved to see the polar dog and Tui had basked in their attention. Yue held the leash loosely. Lord Tzumoro walked ahead of her.
Lady Akeri greeted them at the entrance. She appeared noticeably more haggard than the last time Yue had seen her. She held Chimata on her hip. Upon sight of Yue, the baby immediately stretched out her arms and began to squirm and kick. The gray haired woman passed her to Yue with a thin smile. The princess accepted the toddler readily, pressing kisses to her downy hair while Chimata squeezed her neck. Lady Akeri bowed. “Always a pleasure to see you, Princess.”
“The pleasure is mine.” Yue answered earnestly. The headmistress guided them into the orphanage. The foyer was bereft of the paintings that had once lined the walls. They were the children’s artwork: tiny hands dipped in paint or immature pictures of scenery or fantastical creatures. The vestibule felt despondent without it.
“How many are left?” Lord Tzumoro asked without preamble. His narrow eyes traveled about the room. “The others made it safely to Ashclaw?”
The older woman gave a brisk nod of affirmation. “They did,” she replied, “all of them as of last night. I just have three.Chimata, Asami, and Ky-Lee. Chimata and Ky-Lee will be relatively easy to transport. I have already brewed the tea to make them sleep.” She chuckled. “The biggest challenge is to keep Asami’s mouth shut.”
Yue giggled. Asami’s loquacious nature was well-known. Chimata and Ky-Lee were two and three years old respectively. Yue did not know where Ashclaw was located, but she assumed it was far from the caldera.
Tzumoro continued down the hall. “Prepare them. The postal service has been rather busy as of late with things being as they are. In any case, the courier will come tonight to collect the delayed packages. Please ensure that they are tightly wrapped. The journey to Shuhon can be rather chilly at night.” He tossed a look over his shoulder. “No stamp necessary.”
Lady Akeri hummed. “Of course. I appreciate the courier’s patience. Some of the parcels were quite heavy.” She guided them to one of the nursery rooms. Ky-Lee was sprawled in one of the beds. Asami was playing quietly on the floor. Lady Akeri softened. She held out her hand and Asami leapt to her feet, crashing into the woman and throwing her arms around her. “And some parcels are more burdensome when their contents move around.” Akeri patted Asami on the head. “There isn’t much time left. By the grace of the spirit-gods we managed to move as many as we did in such a short time. The gods will bless you for this, Lord Tzumoro.”
The man did not reply.
Yue wondered if his good deeds would outweigh his wrongdoings. Was this his repentance? Or perhaps, she thought, Tzumoro was just ambitious. Many men were. They slithered and whispered and wove webs like venomous spiders, manipulating their way through life with little regard for who they stepped on in the process. The man was not like Ozai. She could not say he was a good man, but truly how many men would risk their necks to save lower-class children? Especially peasants and discarded bastards? People are not good and the world is not kind. Choose yourself above all others. That lesson had been harshly taught. People are not good, Yue thought, but they can do good things. At some point selflessness would overcome selfishness and the world would be better for once. If only for a little while.
She diligently walked behind the older adults, herding Chimata as the little girl clung to Tui’s neck. A fair number of the windows were sealed and entire rooms were blocked off. She realized that the orphanage was expecting a full-scale invasion and sacking of the city. That would never happen, Yue mused internally, not with Katara to stop him. The Avatar wouldn’t allow it. Especially not a city in which he hoped to live. She looked down at the little girl, so oblivious and joyful. I was like that once. It felt so long ago. It was so long ago. She had been tainted since the day she stabbed that man on Ember Island.
The child tugged on the hem of Yue’s dress. Her large eyes met the princess’s blue ones. “Me go too?” She lisped and pointed to herself. “Where friends go, me go too?”
Yue knelt to Chimata’s level. “Of course!” She replied. “Of course you will. Friends don’t leave friends behind. You’ll have to be very brave when it’s time to leave, alright?” Yue ruffled the girl’s hair and smoothed the loose waves.
Chimata pressed against her, as if she wanted to meld herself into Yue’s arms. “You go too? With dog?”
The young woman’s lip twitched. “No,” Yue said, “Tui and I have to stay here. But I’ll be here when you get back, and you can tell me all about your adventures. And…” Yue waggled her eyebrows mischievously, “we can eat as many fruit pies as we want. But you must promise to be very brave.” A wave of sadness came over her. It should not be like this.
“I promise!” Chimata nodded eagerly.
Yue became aware of Lady Akeri and Lord Tzumoro watching her. She straightened. Chimata bounced along happily and hummed to herself. She was just one of many, Yue thought, swept up in a game that had no winners. They continued their walk-through of the abandoned orphanage. Some of the little ones had discarded toys before they were ghosted away in the middle of the night. Lady Akeri picked them up as she walked, tucking each doll and stuffed toy against her chest as if they were each precious babes.
Lord Tzumoro did not speak as they returned to the litter. Yue rolled the fabric of her dress between her fingers and hesitated.
“Why?” She asked.
Finally he raised his head. The older man’s expression betrayed nothing. “Because who else?”
They returned in a stiff silence. Yue stepped down from the palanquin. Tui was at her heels. Lord Tzumoro took a half-step before turning back to her. “There is an emergency meeting to commence this afternoon. I’m sure your lord father will wish for you to attend.” His mocking sneer held no ill-will. “Don’t bring the dog.”
Upon the return to their apartments, Tui’s hackles rose and she rumbled. Yue’s spine went rigid. She expected no visitors. She opened the door cautiously, blinking rapidly to banish the unfortunate memories from her mind, and crossed the threshold to the antechamber. The door to her private room was locked, for which she was grateful to have remembered.
Lady Azmera was waiting for her, tracing the paintings on the wall with her fingernail. She turned, her smile easy and bright against her dark skin. “Princess!” She said cheerfully. “Is this a good time?”
Yue glanced about the anteroom. About as good a time as any, she thought, did these Fire Nationers have no concept of privacy? She forced a courtier’s smile. “Of course,” Yue replied sweetly, “I must admit I am quite ill-prepared, however.” From the inner pocket of her dress she withdrew the key and unlocked the door. Yue swept her arm as an invitation for Azmera to enter first. The door closed with a quiet click.
Simultaneously their façades fell. Azmera’s yellow eyes met Yue’s blue ones. “You must act soon.” Her tone brooked no argument. “There’s not much time left for us, Princess.”
Anger spiked through her. What more did they want from her? She was being pulled in every direction, stretched thin like a sheepskin and left to cure in a sun that burned bright and foreign. “You expect me to try and poison the Phoenix King on a whim? With no planning or forethought?” Yue scoffed. “Of course. I shall march into his rooms and make myself comfortable. I’ll even serve him a nice cup of tea.”
Azmera remained unperturbed. “In whatever manner in which you must.”
Yue dug her nails into the flesh of her palm. “You gave me two days to not only to consider your plot, but to execute it as well? Does the Order lack so much patience that they’d endanger me even more than I already am?”
She squeaked as Azmera’s hand closed over her mouth. “Be quiet! Even now these walls have ears. You endanger yourself more than they ever could. I do not think that now is the time to act with the Kingmaker, but it is imperative that you gain a closer proximity to him.” The older woman released her. “My husband says that there will be a cabinet assembly at the turn of the fourth hour after midday. Mayhaps our illustrious Phoenix King might appreciate your presence.” She eyed Yue from head to toe and the corner of her mouth quirked in embittered amusement. “You might wear another cheongsam that suits your figure. Red perhaps. And wear your tiara. You are a Princess of the Fire Nation after all.”
The princess seethed. So they sought to dress her up as a perfect doll, just as Ursa had, just as she herself had done, to use her femininity to her advantage. However, it felt different. It seemed wrong in some strange way, just as it felt to bite into a mango gone half-rancid. What would Zuko think of her? Katara and Sokka? Her family? But some sacrifices were meant to be made. People are not good and the world is not kind. Choose yourself above all others. She could not. Not now. She thought of wide-eyed Chimata. With a ragged sigh Yue nodded affirmatively.
The Fire Nationer closed her hands around Yue’s before cupping her cheek and running a smooth thumb over her forehead to brush an unruly lock of hair away. The gesture reminded Yue of her mother, and in spite of her best efforts, her eyes stung and an irrepressible tear slid free.
Lady Azmera left her and Yue prepared to kill the king.
The first hour after midday passed and then the second and then the third. Yue changed into a black qi-pao that had phoenixes embroidered in gold thread on the hem and collar. She arranged her hair in her customary style and fitted her flame-point coronet. There would be no dramatic entrance. She would carry herself meekly and obsequiously as she had when she sentenced the nobility of the capital to death with her trickery.
Yue blinked slowly in an attempt to steady her mind. It proved futile. With one last inspection of her room, the princess closed the door behind her and strode through the halls. There were only a handful of places that Ozai sequestered himself- and with a fleeting twinge of pity Yue realized those were the only places she had ever seen the man at ease. Well, a semblance of ease. She would not find him at the shrine, she knew, nor the library. He would be in the courtyard where he often greeted the rising sun, perhaps accompanied by Lord Tzumoro and Lord Chaeyang, who had quickly cajoled his way into the Phoenix King’s trusted circle. It was not as favorable as she hoped. Lord Chaeyang was the one who had forced the ampoule of poison in her hand, and Lord Tzumoro remained indecipherable at the worst of times.
So much of her life in the Fire Nation after Ursa’s death had been consumed by clandestine meetings and subtle machinations. Yue could not remember a time where she truly felt at ease and slept in peace. The memory of her homeland’s frigid canals was distant and dimmed. She had forgotten the warmth of her father’s embrace and the sound of Kuruk’s giggles.
As she’d expected, the three men- four, she realized upon seeing the Chief Fire Sage amongst their number- were gathered between the columns. Yue shuffled her feet to announce her approach. Lord Chaeyang appeared delighted while Tzumoro had the expression of having bitten into an especially tart lemon. The councilman pressed a thumb against the bridge of his nose.
Yue beamed and performed a perfectly executed bow. “Your Grace. My lords. I hope I don’t interrupt.”
The Fire Sage’s mouth opened and closed like a beached fish. “We are discussing affairs of the State, Princess. No place for you, I’m afraid.”
“It is I who shall make that determination,” the Phoenix King glowered at the clergyman. “And I am not displeased by her presence. The princess has proven to be a valuable asset to me.” The priest cowered under the heat of his sovereign’s ire. “She is more loyal than my degenerate son.”
The graybeard wiped clean his scandalous expression. Lord Chaeyang hid his snort of amusement behind a subtle cough. “I did not mean to offend, Your Majesty, I only meant that…” he tutted. “Well, in my opinion-”
Yue batted her eyelashes. “I’m sure you provide excellent counsel, but I don’t recall hearing the Phoenix King ask for your opinion nor further input.”
The Fire Sage blustered, causing even Lord Tzumoro to quirk a brow. Sensing the tension rising, the man lowered his head with a mumbled apology. Ozai had remained silent during the exchange. His lips were pressed in a hard line. Will he behead him? Or will the Fire Sage become the latest to face a worse fate? Yue chose to study the concrete.
“I would like to make a suggestion before the war meeting, Your Majesty.” Lord Chaeyang’s words were slick like honey. “It is not too late to evacuate the poorer areas of the city, at least ferry them eastward…” He glanced at Yue, silently pleading for her aid.
It would prove futile. The Phoenix King frowned at seemingly nothing. “No. If my nephew wants the capital then let him arrive to a city of ashes.” When he turned to Lord Chaeyang, the older man did not balk under the pressure of Ozai’s scalding gaze. “Let them die.”
Yue saw Tzumoro shift uncomfortably.
The nobleman quickly changed tactics. “Of course, Your Grace. When you defeat the Pretender, our people will fall and worship you as they always have. It is said that only one dragon has been spotted. The other, who is said to be bonded with the witch, presumably remains on the Spearhead Atoll.”
“One dragon will suffice.” Ozai hummed. “I only need the blood of one.”
Yue, the Fire Sage, and Lord Tzumoro were the only ones privy to the king’s desire to become a god. He will kill me too, she despaired. She could only hope that Sokka and Katara would come before Ozai chose to put his plan into action.
“What would you suggest to defend the coast, Your Grace? General Szetuko will be inclined to rather…extreme methods. To send more young men to the frontline will be suicide.” Chaeyang pressed. “We have seen what the dragon can do. And the Avatar remains with them.”
Ozai scoffed, as recalcitrant as always. “Let them die. I will send him first.”
Surely Chaeyang didn’t think that Ozai could be swayed? Not when madness glittered in his eyes. They were all inconsequential to him. She thought of Chimata. Chaeyang offered a subtle, knowing, nod. Yue giggled prettily. “It would be a waste of resources to send Lord Szetuko, Your Grace. At least I think so. He is rather fat.”
Ozai’s amber eyes bore into her and Yue slumped her shoulders in an attempt to look smaller. The corner of the man’s lip twitched upward and then he laughed. A true, genuine laugh, lacking the sourness of cruelty that he so often had. For a moment the man was startlingly lucid and Yue wondered if this was what a younger Ozai had looked like before greed and malice corrupted him, before the parasitic illusions of grandeur overtook whatever decency he had once had. She felt nothing more than to hide away in her own skin. “That he is,” Ozai replied.
Tzumoro cleared his throat. “Well. I suppose we should settle before the others arrive, if it is agreeable with you, Your Majesty.”
The Phoenix King wordlessly led them through the halls towards the throne room. Yue fell in step behind the men. The halls were eerily quiet. More so than normal. The entire palace lacked the life that Ursa had breathed into it, having grown increasingly dark and somber after Zuko and Azula were gone. For months Yue had been alone, her only company the man who had tortured her, and yet she was still forced to play at mummery.
They took their respective places. With a nonchalant flick of his hand Ozai ignited the flame curtain. Yue tucked her hands in her lap. One by one the other members of the cabinet entered and one by one they bowed to their sovereign. Yue could not help but to notice their baffled expressions upon noticing her presence. Stranger things have happened, she thought wryly.
The meeting went on as Yue knew it would. The councilmen postured and flattered as they always did, saying much and accomplishing little. She chanced a glimpse at the Phoenix King. Through the flickering orange light she saw his dark silhouette leaning forward with his fingers steepled under his chin. Her breath caught in her throat as the man let himself be seen.
“My nephew wants the throne that the gods ordained me to have,” Ozai said. “He wants to claim this island in the name of his traitorous father. Very well. I have given the instruction to return the Fire God’s Prophet to the caldera. The boy will come on the back of his dragon,” Ozai grinned broadly, “we are born from the ever-burning flames of the volcanoes that built this archipelago. And to those flames we shall return.”
Only a precious few heartbeats passed before the audience chamber erupted in a flurry of whispers. Tzumoro paled. He raised a finger. “…Your Grace.”
Even Chaeyang could not mask his distress. “Your Grace, please. I ask that you reconsider. The Fire God’s Prophet has enough power to destroy the entire island, taking all of our lives with it.”
Yue kept herself perfectly still lest she burst into tears. The Phoenix King was apathetic towards his councilors’ sudden panic. He took pleasure in their fear, as if it fueled him, as it always had. The hum of her anxieties grew louder until she could focus on nothing else, a storm of disjointed thoughts that had no end. Chimata. Asami. Ky-Lee. Chimata. Asami. Ky-Lee. Chimata. Asami. Ky-Lee. Chima-
It’s not fair. I will die here. We will all die here.
She realized that they were all looking at her. Lord Chaeyang tilted his chin in the direction of the dais. Ozai had addressed her. The attendants watched her expectantly. “Yes, Your Highness?” She fought to keep the stammer from her voice. “Forgive me, I-I was distracted.”
Ozai beckoned her closer. Yue hesitantly climbed the steps to the throne. She jolted at the unnatural heat of Ozai’s hand closing around her wrist. The man pulled her down until she was cautiously seated on his knee. Yue squirmed, trying and failing to hide her discomfiture. The noblemen were just as discomposed. “My traitor son and daughter will accompany their cousin. They turned their backs on the greatness of our dynasty. They will come and beg on their knees for my mercy and kindness. I raised them to be conquerors, to walk in the path that I forged for them. And they betray me. Only you remain loyal to me. You will watch them as their blood runs thick over the cobblestones.”
Yue swallowed. In spite of the inhuman strength of his arm around her waist as he pinned her in place, there was nothing lecherous about the way he held her. It was as if she was a doll or a precious daughter upon whom he doted. It baffled her. How could he hate her, desire her as a woman, and view her as a replacement for a lost child all at once? He’s lonely. How can the most vile, repulsive, despicable man in the entire world be lonely? Was he not satisfied with terrorizing the entire world? Was he not satisfied with condemning them all to death? He had just swore to kill his own children. Ozai had crossed the threshold of insanity long ago, only now did he careen heedlessly to his own destruction. ‘You must act soon.’
“The Pretender will make land in less than three days time,” General Szetuko was the first to break the silence, pointedly avoiding the dais when he scanned the room. “The Fire God’s Prophet will close in his army’s path of escape. Widespread panic has already begun.”
Ozai’s teeth flashed like fangs. “Now is the opportunity for you to prove your worth, General Szetuko. You will lead the first regiment at the coastline.”
Szetuko blanched. Ozai had simply ordered him to commit suicide. His hands trembled as he inclined his head. “It would be an honor, Your Grace. Whatever my king commands.”
Yue tried in vain to ignore the grimaces thrown in her direction. Her rigid Water Tribe upbringing caused her to flush with shame. Her mother would be mortified to see her seated in a grown man’s lap no matter if it was against her will or not. Her father would surely fall dead of shock. How much more could they humiliate her in this spirits-forsaken country?
The general begged to excuse himself from the meeting and Ozai granted him leave. The man stumbled as he left. Eventually only Lords Chaeyang and Tzumoro, Yue, the Fire Sage, and the Phoenix King remained. Yue tentatively squirmed free and retreated to the foot of the throne. The Fire Sage began to speak of readying the Temple of the Rising Sun, causing Yue’s interest to pique once more. Ready for what?! Dare she even consider it?
She stayed after Chaeyang and Tzumoro made their exit. Yue fell into step in Ozai’s shadow as he made his way to the library. She made sure to remain a few paces behind out of his peripheral vision. Yue brushed her finger over the seam of her dress where the vial of poison had been carefully concealed. She covertly slid the ampoule from the internal pocket next to her thigh and tucked it against the top of her bindings near her collarbone. Yue considered her options. If the Order wanted her to strike then it would have to be strategically done. Ozai seemed, for once, almost content. She could do it now while he was unsuspecting, while he trusted her.
No, she decided. Not until the rest of the children at the orphanage were far away from the capital. She let her arms drop to her sides and when the Phoenix King looked over his shoulder she smiled.
———
She jolted awake to the sound of hushed whispers in the dark.
The first line of invaders (rescuers) had been spotted hours before moving like ghosts in the murky night, warships rising like crocodiles from the depths of the river. Pandemonium had broken out in the lower parts of the city.
And for the first time in weeks, months, years Yue slept in peace. Her dreams were sweet. In them she had returned to the North but Zuko was with her and together they roamed the world wherever the wind took them. In others she was in IcePoint and she was being anointed in the custom of the Polar Bear Dogs. A crowd chanted her name. Kingkiller, kingkiller, kingkiller. Demon slayer.
Tui growled. Yue nearly tripped over her as she stumbled to the door and pressed her ear against it. She heard the sound of many feet tiptoeing through the halls. Nudging Tui aside, Yue opened the door just enough to peek outside.
Servants and guardsmen alike were hurriedly yet quietly making their way through the corridors carrying only the clothes on their backs or knapsacks slung over their shoulders. They were fleeing under the cover of darkness while they yet had the chance. Yue wondered how many would truly escape. She nudged the door further open only for it to be violently pushed back. A face as white as the moon appeared in the sliver of light. It was a maid that Yue did not quite recognize but she saw the gleam of a gold necklace with a lotus pendant on her neck. “Stay here,” the woman hissed, “unless you want to get us all killed! The dragonlord will be upon us before the dawn.”
Yue paused. They’re leaving me.
The housekeeper pushed the door fully closed. Yue turned with her back against the door and felt herself sinking down. She could not halt the feeling of despair that dared overtake her. It was a queer feeling. She should feel joy and triumph that at last she would be free of this hellish place after so long, yet hesitancy halted her breath. She had heard of prisoners becoming attached to their jailers and cells, having come to see them as a sort of safe haven from the world outside. Yue had never imagined herself to fall victim to it. She tugged at her collar. It was suddenly too warm. Her heart pounded against her chest like a sparrowkeet struggling to break free.
Yue pressed a quick kiss between Tui’s ears before standing. She counted to one hundred silently until the patter of footsteps fell quiet before slipping outside, pressing her back against the wall as she slithered free. She hurried barefoot through the corridors, ducking behind dusty tapestries and diving into corners when she heard feet approaching. Yue was not sure what compelled her.
Lady Rhaesame was the one to answer the door. Dark circles lined her eyes. They widened in surprise. “Princess Yue?” Her words were clipped with suspicion. She took note of Yue’s disheveled hair and bare feet.
“Please,” Yue whispered, “may I come in?”
The woman stepped aside. Yue saw the councilman’s family huddled together. Little Tsura was sleeping on a makeshift pallet with her dolls strewn around her. Lord Tzumoro looked up at her as she entered the room fully. His forehead was shiny with perspiration. The candles on the table cast long shadows that made his cheeks appear sunken and long. “Princess.”
Yue felt her bottom lip wobble. Before she could stop herself, Yue threw herself into Lady Rhaesame’s unexpecting arms. The woman went rigid before slowly rubbing her hand up and down Yue’s spine, allowing the white haired young woman to cling to her. Lady Rhaesame was cold, but she was a mother, and it was universally known that all children belonged to all mothers no matter from whose womb they sprang. “Do not be afraid, Princess. The day has come. These are your rescuers. Your friends. Your family. Are you not rejoicing?”
I am, Yue wanted to say but the words would not come.
Rhaesame tugged on Yue’s elbow and drew her closer. She guided her to the settee in the corner of the room and handed her a pair of slippers that had been beside the seat. She began to manipulate Yue as if she was a doll, slipping the shoes on her feet and smoothing her hair. She sang a Fire Nation lullaby that seemed to echo through the stillness and the quiet. “The fighting has already begun. I pray it will be over soon. The red dragon is razing the coast. We will only remain insulated for so long.”
“You should surrender.”
The noblewoman smiled tightly. “We will,” she replied, “but if the Prince accepts our surrender will be up to the gods above. My husband is the Phoenix King’s closest councilman. By all accounts he is as guilty as Ozai.” Rhaesame swallowed. “It is what we get for being social climbers I suppose. In the end it is the downfall of us all. Even the Phoenix Queen.”
Lord Tzumoro moved from his seat at his desk and came to his wife’s side. He held his young son to his chest and baby Rokuro moved his little head to peer up at the young princess. “I am sure her family regrets the day she left Hira’a. You know, Fire Lord Azulon chose her for her noble lineage. She was Avatar Roku’s granddaughter. Many men vied for her hand. My father cast his lot in on my brother’s behalf. He was promptly shot down. A bear would never bed a snake. Only a dragon would do.” Both he and Rhaesame chuckled. “Sozin was the last dragonrider and now his descendant returns upon the back of one. It would seem that Lu-Ten is the truest son of Sozin after all.”
He and his wife exchanged a silent conversation. Lady Rhaesame went to the table and poured a cup of tea before handing it to Yue. She urged her to drink. Yue did as she was instructed. Her brow furrowed in confusion as the older woman pulled her to her feet.
Lord Tzumoro put a hand on Yue’s shoulder and squeezed. His smile was strained and sad. He gently pushed her towards the door. “You are a smart and capable young woman, Princess. I cannot say that I have always believed in you, but you have proven yourself time and time again. Maybe in a different life you would have had a better life than the one you have lived. Perhaps…in a different life I could have done more.” Lord Tzumoro opened the door. “May the spirit-gods be with you, child. I am sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
The nobleman hesitated and adjusted the baby in his arms. “I am sorry,” he repeated, and it was only then that Yue saw the sword buckled to his hip. He turned away from her and shoved her out of the room with a forlorn sigh of resignation. Yue had never seen a man so broken. The last she saw of him was Lord Tzumoro standing in the threshold with Lady Rhaesame at his side.
Dread pooled in Yue’s belly.
Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. She stood alone in the hall. Yue palmed the vial of poison. There was still time.
The pale sunrise streamed in through the windows. Though she could not see the battle, Yue imagined that she could hear the thunder of thousands of marching boots and the roars of dragons sounding like war drums. Her heart sang its own staccato song. There would be no other opportunity. It was her last chance to aid Katara and the others. If I hesitate then I will die.
And Yue was determined to live.
She burst into the Phoenix King’s private office without announcing herself. Ozai’s bloodshot amber eyes snapped up as she entered. The shadows encircling them revealed that he had not slept. Long gone was the vampiric beauty that had concealed his true nature for so long. She no longer felt fear in his presence. How could she? Why would she? What was the worst he could do? The man was on the verge of destroying himself, and if the spirit-gods were kind then she would only usher him along.
“Your Grace.” She greeted him and took note of the half-drank cup of steaming imported coffee on the console table. Yue silently thanked the gods for having finally heard her prayers. She bowed.
Ozai tracked her movements suspiciously. He was like a caged predator, a leopon that had been pushed too far and had begun to bite the hand that fed him. “The boy.” Without warning he leapt to his feet and began to pace the room. “I should’ve killed him when I yet had the chance.”
His back was turned to her. She saw that the dagger gifted to him by Lord Chaeyang was attached to his belt. The silver meteorite and obsidian came together in a sharp point that glinted like a dragon’s eye. Yue used her thumbnail to lift the capsule cover. Her heart rattled in her chest. She searched for a distraction. The man’s war helm, in the shape of a phoenix’s crest, rested on the table. Impulsively she picked it up. “It will be a battle to be remembered, Your Highness.”
Ozai snorted. He snatched the helmet away with the petulance of a child and his expression painfully reminded Yue of Zuko. “It is nice to see that you still have some semblance of sound judgment.” Yue could imagine Azula saying the same thing with the same sort of deadpan amusement. “You may not have eyes in the back of your head but you do not lack foresight.”
“I’m glad that it pleases you, Your Grace.” Yue slid the cup closer. “The palace staff is running away.” Her eyes never left Ozai’s pacing form.
The man shrugged. “The actions of vermin are inconsequential to me. They will die like the others.”
Yue made a noncommittal sound of agreement. In a fluid motion she tipped the poison into the cup. It dissolved instantly. “You are a god after all.”
Ozai spun on her with astonishing speed. His fingers locked around her arm, wrenching it behind her back as he slammed her face first into the table. His hand crushed the bones in her wrist until she could hear them crack. Yue gasped. “You stupid girl. Did you take me for a fool?” With his free hand he tore the vial away from her and sniffed it before hurling it across the room. The glass shattered. His hands were superheated as he pressed her face against the wooden surface until she thought he was trying to push her through it. “Who?!”
She gritted her teeth. Her cheek scraped against the tabletop. The heat of Ozai’s hand on the back of her neck made her gasp for breath. She remained silent.
The Phoenix King jerked her head until it was twisted the wrong way and she had no choice but to look up at him with only one eye. His countenance was animalistic, more beast than man, and his fury rolled off of him in fulgurant waves. Ozai squeezed harder. He leaned over until his chest was flush to her spine and his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “I will only ask you once more. Who?” He loomed over her, as if he was a titan and she just a mere mortal upon whom he was about to pass judgment. Her body protested against the position he had forced her into.
Yue clawed desperately for purchase on the desk, grimacing as her cheek was rubbed raw from the splintering wood. “Get off of me,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “get off of me!”
A scowl of unadulterated fury contorted Ozai’s features. This was the monster she knew. He dragged her upright by her hair, his powerful hand closing around her neck as he slammed her back against the adjacent wall. She kicked and flailed. He’s insane, she despaired, gasping for air. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. A resignation came over her. This was how her life was to end, murdered by the man that had taken everything from her. Her home. Her sense of peace in her own skin. Her closest friend. Yue sagged against the wall, feeling her eyes begin to roll to the back of her head. The world became faint and blurry. She thought of Lady Ursa and the truce they had forged in those last days. ‘You were a Koi and we made you a Phoenix. Rise.’
Rise.
Yue let out a battle cry and wrapped her arms around Ozai’s torso. Pulling him against her as she slammed her forehead into his nose. The Phoenix King roared as she used the momentum of her attack to throw her body sideways, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. They hit the ground. She straddled him, her fingers desperately fumbling for the dagger on his belt. He slapped her hand away. “I hate you,” she snarled. “I hate you!”
Ozai laughed as he tossed her easily. He rolled, bearing down on her. His superheated hands burned against her skin, clamping down on her neck and mouth. He chuckled darkly. “There’s fire in you after all. I admire your tenacity. It seems that my daughter taught you well. But not well enough. I was going to let you watch as I killed my nephew.” He leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched. “Someone led you astray, and it seems that only suffering will make you speak. Should I take you one last time before I kill you, hmm? Perhaps even put a child in you, a new heir to replace my son and daughter after you’ve served your purpose. Fire and ice brought together at last.” Yue struggled against him and Ozai bared his teeth in a twisted, vicious imitation of a smile.
Yue whimpered. Her back burned from being yanked across the floor. She was acutely aware of where their bodies met, the way she could feel him through the fabric of her clothes. It repulsed her. His eyes bored into her own. His hips rolled against hers. “And since you won’t confess, I think I want to hear you scream this time.” She squirmed at the feel of his free hand slipping into the waistband of her pants. Yue began to panic, thrashing against the man in a desperate attempt to move away from him. It did little except to further his anger. He was seeing her, and Ursa, and Zuko and the whole world turning against him. As her pants slid from her hips, Yue lifted her head, and with all the strength and vengeance she had, sank her teeth into his cheek.
He slapped her, leaving stars fluttering around the corners of her vision. Her bite had left red indentations on his face. The Phoenix King bared his teeth. His hands glowed white hot. “Tell me, girl, was it worth it?”
She saw a flash of light. The fireball in Ozai’s hand sparked to life, lighting the entire room as it grew brighter and hotter still. His hand remained on her throat. Yue could look at nothing else but the white flame and she wondered if this was the terror that Zuko felt during the Agni Kai. Her chest heaved. Yue reached up and dug her nails into Ozai’s hands, raking red rivulets on his hands that he paid no attention to. Fruitlessly she brought her legs up and planted her feet in his abdomen to shove the madman away from her. In the brief moment of separation she rolled to her feet only for Ozai’s swift kick to sweep her feet from under her. Yue flopped onto the ground, winded.
He lifted her from the floor and she kicked at him, her mind somewhere else, to a night of a full moon so long ago. “I no longer have the patience to suffer your existence,” he snarled as he squeezed the breath from her throat. “Tell me who gave you this poison. Was it worth it?”
The sound of sizzling flesh caused her to jolt. The agony was blinding, roaring through her mind and crashing like tempestuous waves. Her arm had gone numb. Yue began to cry wordlessly. She sobbed and screamed and sobbed and screamed. She could feel the skin of her forearm begin to crack and bleed. The pain tore through every fiber of her being, embedding its talons deep into her skin and shredding her flesh until all she knew was despair. Yue begged and cried. Tears blurred her vision.
“It was Lord Chaeyang and his wife!” The confession came as a strained whimper. “Please!”
Ozai released his hold on her. Yue fell into a heap with an agonized wail when her ruined arm touched the cool flooring. The Phoenix King smirked triumphantly. He reached for the blade that the Emberwolf had given him and held it up to the light. He paid little mind to Yue writhing at his feet. “I should have known,” Ozai growled, “a snake like his mother.”
Yue’s skin was blistered and bloody. The burn was a perfect outline of Ozai’s fingers. She complied numbly, drifting along in a haze as the firebender pulled her behind him. For some inexplicable reason, she was cold. It was as if her body was going numb and cold in an attempt to abate the fever that threatened to overtake her. It was by the will of the gods that she was still standing. It would have been more merciful to let her die.
She was little more than a catatonic husk when two guardsmen tore Lord Chaeyang and Lady Azmera from their beds. They went without resistance. It was only when Azmera caught sight of Yue’s weakened state did she begin to struggle. She thrashed against the silent guards but their words were lost to Yue.
She was dimly aware of entering the Temple of the Rising Sun. She flinched when Ozai slit Lord Chaeyang’s throat unceremoniously before the man could defend himself, and the sound of Lady Azmera’s last attempt to save herself was little more than a dull hum. Yue watched the two firebenders fight. Well, it wasn’t much of a fight, she knew. Ozai was unmatched. The noblewoman stood no chance against him. Azmera was subdued in minutes. Not even the sickening crunch of bones snapping like dry twigs could arouse Yue from her stupor.
She was awakened only by the sound of a voice that for months Yue had only heard in her dreams.
“Father!”
Zuko and Azula suddenly emerged from the darkness of the corridor. They stood beneath the mural of the two dragons, the brilliance of the skylight turning their amber eyes to molten gold. The siblings were quickly joined by five others that Yue did not recognize. Save for one. The eldest of Sokka’s bloodsworn warriors took a hesitant step.
“Zuko!” Yue lurched in his direction only to be dragged backwards. Ozai’s forearm clamped down on her windpipe. She scratched futilely at him, letting out a wail when her burned arm brushed against his armor. Zuko’s eyes settled on her.
“Let her go, Father.” Zuko raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Lu-Ten is on his way. Just let her go.”
Yue struggled to stay conscious. A glimmer of hope had ignited in her belly, momentarily pushing away the pain that tore through her. She could see no one else but Zuko. Zuko was the only one who mattered.
He came for me. He really came back for me.
If Ozai heard his son then he did not acknowledge him. Yue saw Azula exchange glances with her brother. “You mustn’t waste your time with her, Father, not when the Pretender comes to challenge you. Surely you didn’t truly believe us to be traitors, your own flesh and blood?” The princess’s voice was silvery. “Let the ice lily go, Father, and we’ll face the Pretender together. As it was always meant to be. Zuko and I are your humble servants once more.”
For a heartbeat it appeared that Ozai was truly considering his daughter’s words. His hold slackened. And then he began to chuckle. “My plans have changed. The spirits have acted in my favor and brought the dragon to me as an act of providence. The caldera will sink into the bowels of the earth and I will re-emerge as a god.”
Zuko threw himself at his father. The Phoenix King slung Yue aside as he met his son’s attack. She crashed into the wall and slumped down. Stars peppered Yue’s vision and through the haze she saw dancing tongues of flame, red and white and yellow and blue all gleaming bright and terrible. The ceiling spun.
Yue felt herself fading away. The rafters were on fire. The cacophony of battle and disjointed arguments filled the air above her. Wood crackled and ashes rained on the tiles that were red with paint and with blood. Ozai and Azula were locked in a duel of their own, dancing around the chamber in a swirl of blue and white, ducking in and out of the shadows of the skylight until they looked like a wraith and a god in pursuit. Azula was making her way back to the others, leaving a trail of sagging, burning support beams in her wake.
The white haired princess groaned as she rolled onto her hands and knees. The roof began to buckle. Plaster dust coated her hair and smoke filled her lungs. Zuko was being dragged away by his companions. “No!” She heard him scream, “we can’t leave her behind!”
Please don’t leave me behind. Yue outstretched a hand as the sky caved in. Please don’t leave me behind. She curled into as tight a ball as she could, biting her bottom lip until she tasted copper, and the temple began to collapse around her. There was no time to scream nor to cry. A support beam fell at an angle, shielding her from the crumbling walls of the sanctuary. A surge of self-preservation kept her awake. Yue fumbled in the hazy darkness and began to crawl. Each movement sent sharp waves of discomfort up her spine. Her chest tightened with each ragged, wheezing breath. The only sound was her own shuddering breathing and crackle of smoldering wood.
Yue howled when a tile landed on her arm. She cursed the moon spirit for ever giving her life and raged at the spirit-gods that hated her so. Her progress was achingly slow. When her strength failed her, she inched and wiggled like a glow worm. Sweat dripped from her brow into her eyes. Yue burrowed through the rubble like a badgermole.
Half of the Temple of the Rising Sun was destroyed. Finally free, Yue staggered and swayed as she pushed herself to her feet. She surveyed the area. The Phoenix King was nowhere to be seen.
The ground shook violently. A beacon of light shot up from the distant coastline followed by a deafening boom that rolled like thunder even within the palace grounds. The air shimmered and rolled. Her belly grew tight with dread. Part of her had already known. Soon fire would swallow them all. She stood frozen in place, swaying on her feet, unable to move lest she crumble and collapse like the temple behind her. Zuko, Katara, Sokka…The soul-wrenching cries came next. Her ears echoed.
She tripped over her feet as she staggered to the closest column, pressing her back against the pillar. Her fingers found purchase on the rough stone. She could hear the city beginning to burn.
Yue wasn’t sure how long she crouched there in the shadows. The air reverberated as a black shadow passed overhead. It grew larger and larger still until it turned from black to pearlescent magenta that flashed like gemstones in the sunlight. Yue’s mouth gaped, awestruck by the magnificent beast that descended upon the courtyard. The ache radiating from her arm was momentarily forgotten, replaced by almost childlike fascination at the sight in front of her. Her mind sang. A dragon. A dragon!
The dragon landed heavily in the middle of the courtyard in a spray of dust. It swung its magnificent head around, its eyes glittering with a primordial intelligence that made Yue quiver. It bellowed and lowered its shoulder, allowing its rider (riders) to slide from its back.
Yue wondered if she was perhaps hallucinating. There, at last in the flesh, was the Phoenix King’s nephew. Soot stained his face yet his resemblance to his uncle was eerie and unsettling. His hard amber eyes, so similar yet so different from Zuko’s, searched the area. They passed over her. “Uncle!” Lu-Ten’s voice rang out across the courtyard. “We face each other at last. That is, if you are not such a craven as to hide from me!”
His boots crunched over the rubble. “I have come to claim what is rightfully mine. You’ve lived too long and done too much. This city burns because of you. If it were not for the Avatar, this island would have been swallowed up by the tsunami from the explosion.” The dragonlord chuckled. “Don’t be such a coward, Uncle! Come out and face me! And bring the girl. I owe it to my cousin to return his little wife to him, even after you defiled her.”
The young woman accompanying him turned her head and her gaze met Yue’s. She was the man’s wife, the one they called the indigenous sorceress, who had brought him back to life and burned men alive. Yue absently thought that she didn’t look capable of such feats. She was short of stature, but not frail if her womanly shape and strong arms were any indication. She stepped away from Lu-Ten and towards Yue.
The princess shrank back into the shadows. The Fire Lord’s witch lifted her hand in mollification. She crouched low as she approached and a small smile twitched on her lips. “You are the princess, yes?” Yue could only focus on the dragon behind her who seemed to be mirroring the witch’s movements. “Come,” she whispered, “you mustn’t be here. It…you will be safer with me.”
Tentatively Yue outstretched her hand and the Fire Lord’s witch grasped it firmly, drawing Yue closer. Her brown fingers ghosted over Yue’s weeping burn. Yue inhaled through clenched teeth. The woman, who in truth did not seem much older, grimaced apologetically.
Lu-Ten had turned away, still shouting threats at his uncle who had yet to show himself. The priestess breathed slowly. From her hands pink and green fire glowed. Yue shrank back but the firebender held firm. Her fingers covered the marks that Ozai had left. Her eyes were half-lidded as she held the flame over the blistered skin. It did not burn. Yue struggled against her even as the wound began to heal itself under the gentle ministrations of the priestess. The blood and viscous liquid seemed to evaporate until all that was left was a deep pink scar. The woman removed her hand.
“I am sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “It is the best I can do.”
The scar itched. Slack-jawed, Yue studied her arm. The flesh was drawn taut, its bright pink a sharp contrast to the rest of her brown skin. The imprints of Ozai’s fingers extended like twisted branches. Like Zuko’s. She looked up incredulously.
There was no opportunity to speak however. The princess and the priestess huddled together as Lu-Ten spun around, grinning venomously at the roof of a pagoda. The Fire Lord’s wife threw her forearm protectively across Yue’s waist and the magenta dragon shifted to shield their alcove.
Ozai leapt from his position on the awning, his descent assisted by a burst of fire from his heels. He landed gracefully some yards away from his adversary. Uncle and nephew faced each other, each of them as filled with hatred as the other, sizing the other up like two warring leopons.
“More than twenty years ago I sent a knife to kill you in your crib. I would have succeeded were it not for a traitor in my court. For more than twenty years they kept you sequestered in whatever dark backwater they kept you in and yet now, at last you face me.” Ozai scoffed. “I loved my brother once.”
“But you loved power more,” Lu-Ten snarled. “So much so that you would murder your own kin. The world has suffered too long under the weight of your tyranny. Do you accept my challenge, Uncle?”
The older man did not speak. He adjusted his feet and moved into a firebending stance. His nephew did the same. Flames ignited at their fists. And then they began to dance.
Notes:
I'll admit Tzumoro was an OC that kinda took a life of his own. He was originally meant to be the typical self-serving, slippery thorn in Yue's side. He was, but he also was a decent human being in his own way. He and his family chose to commit ritual suicide rather than face Lu-Ten, who would've killed him anyway. Also, Yue should've known she was going to get dragged by Ozai in a 1 v 1 but she tried her best lol.
Bby girl Yaretzi is next.
Chapter 67: The End of an Era
Notes:
This took so long partly because life, and secondly because I re-wrote this three different times. I was not sure where to begin and end this chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yaretzi
Bishara’s penmanship was tight and elegant, each character drawn with an orderly precision only found in soldiers. Her words, though, were full of warmth. ‘All is well. Tsigereda has been taking care of Tozi. You should know that your cat is a glutton. Someone made the mistake of giving her roasted star-squid and she won’t settle for anything less. Sozin is a firebender already! He’s not creating works of art mind you, but I suppose that Sun Warrior blood will make him more gifted than most. He’s a sweet boy. And a flirt like his uncle. All of the nursemaids here in SunWatch trip over themselves to cuddle him, even more so now that we’ve gotten the order to pack up. It won’t be much longer I hope. Tell your big headed brother that I can’t wait to see him.’
Yaretzi studied the missive until the words became little more than a black blur. She pressed the letter against her chest as if she could absorb the letter, maybe out of some foolish hope that it would transport her across the sea to the Estival Peninsula where her son remained. At least for now. They had been given the clearance to depart from SunWatch and make their way across the archipelago now that their foothold was secure. They would not arrive at the caldera until Lu-Ten was installed on the throne- after the Phoenix King was defeated and the capital firmly under their control. Soon, her heart hoped, though she knew that it would be better to be certain.
The fortress on the Spearhead Atoll was lonely. She found solace in Izara, who guarded her nest with the ferocity of any mother. The eggs had yet to hatch, but Yaretzi knew that they would not. Not until they were in the possession of those meant to have them. Great Mother Citali had made it known. Sozin will touch the sky. She turned to the large open window and gazed out at the waves. They were languid, peaceful even. The city beyond the military base went on as it always had- life went on no matter what banner flew over it. Then again, mayhaps they too had tired of the Phoenix King’s erratic cruelty. There was still some clean-up to be done, but much of it had escaped relatively unscathed. Yaretzi moved into the sunlight and grin to herself as the rays warmed her skin. It will not last.
The time would come, she knew, and soon. For days Citlali the Great Mother had come to her in her dreams, accompanied by her dragon children, and her eyes were demanding and cold. Not at all like before, when her touch was as warm and maternal as Tuwa’s. In Yaretzi’s dreams the goddess crafted images of suffering and devastation until Yaretzi was clawing at her eyes and pulling at her hair to make it end, and she awoke drenched in sweat. Each time Citlali had said the same: ‘You know what must be done.’
It echoed even in her waking moments. Yaretzi shrugged the thought away. In truth, she did not. At least not with certainty. Meditating in the ancient ziggurats had never failed to illuminate her path, granting her a confidence in her prayers and practices that others would never achieve. Yet now the Great Mother’s message was unclear. She moved to the door of the solar, her feet guiding her without hesitation to where she knew Izara would be.
The dragon was coiled around her eggs with her wings folded over them. It appeared that she was dozing but one amber eye cracked open at the sound of Yaretzi’s approach. Her welcoming grumble grew into a pleased chitter. The priestess hummed her own greeting. For days after Izon’s departure, Izara had moved sluggishly, left as empty-hearted as Yaretzi. She had begun to thaw under the gentle pressure of Yaretzi’s enchanting flame. Izara opened her wings and allowed Yaretzi to settle in the curve of her side with her eggs. The quiet of their solitude sapped a tension from Yaretzi’s shoulders that she had not been cognizant of.
The eggs were warm to the touch. They seemed to pulse under her fingertips like a heartbeat. The song of dragons poured over and through her, overwhelming her even as Izara crooned. It was a persistent tingle that vibrated through Yaretzi’s arms and every hair stood on end. She tore her hand away from the dragon eggs and met Izara’s knowing gaze. Her trembling fingers steadied. Yaretzi rested her hand on the dragon’s head between her eyes, on the chakra of her third eye, and let go.
When Yaretzi opened her eyes, she found herself in the crèche of the Sun People. She was alone, seated on a woven mat on the dirt floor, and archaic scrolls were spread out around her feet. When she looked up, it was through the eyes of her childhood self, the world glittering with the mysticism of unsullied youth. She was struck with the inexplicable feeling of being out of place, a pariah in a place that was as familiar as the lines crossing her palms. It smelled richly of petrichor, of damp vegetation after a rainstorm. Outside she could hear other children at play.
The crèche had no door. It was tucked in a corner of the city close to where the warriors trained. Yaretzi recalled running through them, always underfoot as she chased Lallo. The men had laughed and scooped her into their arms, tossing her in the air. She was Tuwa’s daughter, the successor of the most compelling dragonkeeper of their generation, and known and beloved. Spoiled, most would say. Princes and princesses did not exist in their culture, nor other titles that other cultures were so peculiarly attached to, but she had always been treated with the dignity of what could be considered highborn. She could hear the clashing of metal spearheads and the grunting of the men as they sparred.
“Yaretzi?” A figure appeared at the threshold. Yaretzi startled. It was Lu-Ten. He was years younger. No more than fourteen, which meant she was eight. He offered a bemused half-smile. “What are you doing here by yourself? Tuwa is looking for you.”
Yaretzi opened her mouth but no words came out. Lu-Ten put a hand on his hip. For once he was not accompanied by her brother. It was well known that one would never be seen without the other.
Lu-Ten extended his hand and she grasped it. Her own was that of a little girl. “Come on,” he said, “she sent me to fetch you and I’m not going to give myself a bad face if I come back empty handed.” His fingers were cold. Lu-Ten tugged her and Yaretzi went stiff, unable to dispel the creeping sense of foreboding that came over her. His face flickered and something dark and dreadfully familiar briefly flashed in his amber eyes.
“Can I trust you?” She blurted out in her childhood voice. Yaretzi tried to pull away but Lu-Ten’s grip was unbreakable.
His lip curled in the beginnings of a sneer. “Yaretzi, you know you can. You’re being ridiculous.”
Yaretzi flinched. “You are not Lu-Ten. You cannot be.” She was not sure what horrid, twisted reality that she had been dragged into, but she recalled a conversation that had with the Avatar, Katara, of the foul-things that prowled in the Far North. They were malignant abominations crafted by an angry spirit-god, and could torture the mind. Could she have stumbled upon one of the insidious creatures? “You are not Lu-Ten.”
“Of course I am. Just not the one you remember.” The prince’s pupils enlarged until they eclipsed the gold of his irises, until they were two black suns boring into her. “Stop acting like you’re scared of me. Isn’t this what you wanted?” He scoffed deridingly.
“Isn’t this what you caused?”
She clapped her hands over her ears. Citlali, Great Mother, please! Yaretzi backed away from Lu-Ten until she crashed into the wall of the crèche. He did not advance towards her but even still he seemed impossibly large and uncomfortably close. I did not mean to cause this. This is not what I wanted! The wall gave way and then she was falling. Yaretzi screamed. Her arms flailed and churned. She kicked her feet and a burst of fire from her heels slowed her fall, allowing her to flip her body backwards. Lu-Ten watched her passively as she fell.
Yaretzi passed through a stream of multicolored light. Her fingers reached out to touch something, anything, but they passed through the air uselessly. She hit the ground. Her breath seized in her throat.
She was no longer in the crèche nor was she with Izara. Yaretzi groaned and pushed herself into a kneeling position, her head whipping around to take in her surroundings.
The surrounding area was quiet save for birdsong and the gurgle of flowing water. Yaretzi realized that she was in a garden of sorts. A canal flowed past her. It spilled into a still pond where large lotus blossoms bobbed on the surface. Koi fish swirled in the water in flashes of orange. Violet and white wisterias hung overhead, entangled with thick-roped vines. Yaretzi scrambled to the edge of the water and cupped her palms, splashing her face once twice and then a third time. Dragonflies flitted in her peripheral sight. Her reflection shimmered on the surface. Red tattoos adorned her cheeks- the marks of the priests and priestesses of her people. She had only worn them during the most somber of ceremonies. She had always felt painfully inadequate, like a child playing at dress-up in comparison to the elders, so regal in their red paint and dragon scales. Once more she was struck with a prickle of malaise. She lifted her head.
Gazing back at her, mouth agape, was the Avatar. Mayhaps any other time it would have been comical to see the world’s divine medium caught off guard- had Yaretzi not been suffering the same affliction. Yaretzi dared not move first.
The Avatar dared to take the initiative. She glided forward, cutting through the water to cross over the canal until she stood face to face with the priestess. Yaretzi let out a ragged, breathy laugh of disbelief. It was a bitter sort of amusement. She wondered if Zuko’s pessimistic skepticism had rubbed off on her at last. The Avatar’s presence solidified what her spirit had already known. They were in no place known to man. Without thinking she grasped Katara’s hand. The Avatar jolted but Yaretzi did not let go. “I will see you soon,” she said with conviction. And then it will all be over. She hoped.
She blinked and found herself once more where she stood. Her hands were still intertwined with Izara’s ruff. The dragon did not blink.In that terrible, epiphanic moment, Yaretzi knew her fate. She leaned down until her forehead pressed against Izara’s and signed. There would be little time to waste. In her mind’s eye she envisioned the Fire Nation capital swallowed up in flame and try though she might, the screams echoed and echoed.
——
She woke up alone in the bed that was much too large without Lu-Ten in the room that was given to her in the fortress. On the table by the window was a dim lamp. The moon was just beyond, glimmering silver and white against the untroubled sea. A lone winged creature swooped over the waves, ensnaring fish in its jaws before climbing skyward once more. It was too small to be Izara. A pelican-hawk, barely more than a black silhouette against the moonlight, at peace with its solitude while the night crept on.
Yaretzi stood. The floor was cold to her bare feet. A Fire Nationer housekeeper had been eager to stoke a fire to warm the room but Yaretzi had waved her off however. She was a firebender herself, she could light a candle or fireplace in her sleep. She had allowed the servant to bring her tea, wincing at the woman’s persistent desire to call her ‘Your Grace.’ Azula had scoffed when she first heard Yaretzi argue against the honorific.
‘You want to be a Fire Lady so bad. You might as well make sure the peasants know that.’ The princess had rolled her eyes. ‘If it weren’t for my cousin then you would still be one.’
It had taken some days for Yaretzi to become accustomed to the haughty manner in which Zuko’s sister spoke to everyone. Yet Azula had brightened with unmistakable awe upon seeing the dragons and began to begrudgingly treat Yaretzi with an iota more of respect after watching her calm them with her firebending. Not much but Zuko assured her that Azula’s less caustic insults were saved for a select few. ‘She likes you. As much as she can like anyone other than herself, I guess,’ he said, ‘they call it having frenemies.’ Upon her baffled expression the prince had sighed. ‘Someone who is technically on your side, but not one you’d trust to turn your back on. A friend and an enemy.’
‘I do not like this idea of a frenemy,’ Yaretzi replied. ‘But she does not use puns like you or unnecessarily verbose words like Lallo so she cannot be so bad.’
The cup of tea sat half-drank on the table. Fire Nationers did not drink coffee as frequently as the Arakemeti did, who somehow seemed to drink it at all times of the day and sleep peacefully. Yaretzi had picked up their habits. She would’ve vastly preferred it, but she also vastly preferred to not be in the Fire Nation at all.
She dressed methodically, pulling on her dark boots after slipping on her pants and an equally dark tunic. Yaretzi tightened her belt, allowing her fingers to trace the web of upraised veins on her belly- reminders of what her body had endured to carry Sozin, her greatest joy. Soon, she thought with a loud sigh.
The guards in the hall were startled at her sudden appearance but did not question her. While Yaretzi lacked the imperious aura that Azula and even Lu-Ten exuded, her reputation as a witch had preceded her. Men tended to fear a woman who could burn them alive. It was a bittersweet feeling- Yaretzi did not want to be remembered as bloodthirsty sorceress, yet she had come to understand the power of notoriety and if Azula was to be believed then the noblemen of the Fire Nation would not kowtow to a copper-skinned indigenous pacifist. They would know her as the Fire Lord’s Witch and the dragon-charmer, just as like to burn them alive as she was to feed the poor.
They opened the gates of Fort Chaeryu and allowed her to pass through. The night was cool. The air on the islands was not as humid as her homeland nor as arid as the deserts of Arakem. The days were warm and the nights relieved by the ocean breeze. Yaretzi moved swiftly through the streets until she came upon the thicket of raised tree roots where Izara had made her temporary nest. Yaretzi had buried the eggs in a place that only she would recognize before sending precise instructions to Bishara for their retrieval when she arrived. She was hesitant to leave them in her rooms whilst she was absent.
She found Izara dozing, as she had expected to. The dragon lazily opened one reptilian eye and chirped a greeting. She nuzzled Yaretzi with her snout and Yaretzi kissed the space above her nose, giggling when Izara blew a puff of steam. Yaretzi sobered. “We must go,” she said quietly, “we do not have much time to waste.”
Izara stood and shook out her wings. She grumbled as she did so, her complaints brushing against Yaretzi’s mind. You complain like an old woman, Yaretzi said silently and the she-dragon gave an indignant chuff. Yaretzi raised her head to peer up at the nighttime sky. She mounted Izara with an ease that only came from practice and wrapped the reins twice over her wrists. She emptied her mind.
Izara rocked back on her haunches and beat her wings. The muscles in her hind legs coiled and released like well-oiled springs. She shot upward and extended her wings, rising higher and higher still until they were above the clouds. They followed the moon’s pale path. Yaretzi leaned against Izara’s spine and became lost in her own thoughts. A handful of strands of hair blew about her face. It was easy to get lost in the sky. At times it was preferable. Amongst the clouds she was one with Izara and there were no expectations bearing down on her at every turn. She contemplated turning course to SunWatch and absconding with her son, disappearing back into the jungle from whence she had come. It was a fleeting fantasy. The spirit-gods had left no room for her desires. There was only duty and sacrifice.
The winds favored them, allowing Izara to glide without exerting much effort. Yaretzi found herself drifting to sleep without fear of falling. Izara trilled and continued her flight. They passed through the night and into the gray hour of dawn. The sun took its place in the sky and cast rays of pink and rays of orange on the horizon, stretching beyond what Yaretzi could see. It was interrupted by a wall of black billowing smoke rolling up from the fast-approaching landmass. All lingering drowsiness was sapped away, replaced by a creeping sense of unease that grew into panic.
I am too late.
The caldera had been infiltrated, as had been the plan, and even from their vantage point, Yaretzi could see soldiers swarming the shores. A flash of crimson caught her attention. In spite of her mounting fatigue Izara let out a welcoming cry that was cut short upon their shared realization that Izon (and Lu-Ten) was flying with such an intense purpose that they did not- could not- take notice of them.
Just to the east, alarmingly close to the shore, was a behemoth. It did not look like any ship that Yaretzi had seen- it was a gargantuan abomination of metals that resulted in the culmination of a ship that Yaretzi saw in her nightmares. The Fire God’s Prophet was as dreadful as its name suggested. The Phoenix King’s banner flew mockingly from its mast, acting as both a harbinger of disaster and as a maddening beacon that lured Lu-Ten in like a moth to a flame.
I am too late.
But the Powerful Father Tenochizun had not brought her all this way to not try. The Great Mother Citlali had not ordained her to be the keeper of the dragon’s magic just for her to surrender. The secrets of the Sun Priests were always at the forefront of her mind, but the blood of the Sun Warriors ran hot through her veins. She straightened her spine, braced herself against the oncoming wind, and ordered Izara to do as she must.
Her more slender frame granted her the advantage of speed. The she-dragon folded her wings and quickened her pace. In seemingly seconds she burst through the clouds with a shriek, falling upon the larger red dragon with her claws outstretched to grab ahold of her mate’s hind leg.
Lu-Ten looked up as Izara crashed into Izon, his eyes widening in surprise. Yaretzi clung tightly to the reins. The nauseating speed caused her vision to blur. She was thrown and throttled by the dragon’s duel. Yaretzi squinted up at her husband. His face had taken on the draconic fury of Izon, having fallen deep into the dragon’s mind until they acted as one.
Yaretzi allowed herself to surrender to Izara’s influence. The she-dragon gnashed her teeth and tore one paw free to rake at Izon’s chest, tearing a stripe of red over his scales. Izon roared but Izara did not relinquish her hold on him, nor did she hesitate. “Please,” Yaretzi shouted, “do not do this. This is not the way!”
Lu-Ten ground his teeth. “There is no other way,” he replied and the dragons broke apart.
Izara lunged forward. Yaretzi clung to her neck and felt as though she was hovering over her own body, as if the dragon had become her mind and limbs and no enchanting fire would bring her back under control. Yaretzi closed her eyes and with an inexplicable detachment she watched as Izara tore away from Izon. A white glint caught her attention, steadily crossing over the water from the shoreline, a tongue of ice that carried a blue-clad girl. Yaretzi focused her eyes and pulled the reins tight. “Izara,” she ordered, “down.”
Her spirit-sister needed no further direction. Izara dove seaward, angling her shoulder so that Yaretzi could extend her hand. Katara’s fingers were clammy, and cold, but she did not let go. Yaretzi grunted as she dragged the younger woman onto Izara’s back. “I said that I would see you soon, yes?” Her laugh was an embittered exhale. “Not a moment too soon, no?”
Katara held onto her waist. “No,” she murmured against Yaretzi’s back, “not a moment too soon.”
But she had failed.
Izon had put too much distance between them, too much for Izara to ever hope to close no matter how hard Yaretzi pressed her. She watched, her stomach turning and her heart sinking, as Izon exhaled and the Fire God’s Prophet went up in flames.
She felt Izara’s pain as sharply as if she had been stabbed in the gut. She wailed wordlessly as Izon spiraled downward, flapping his wings furiously in an attempt to dispel the flames clinging to his scales. He shrieked frantically even as he struck the hard surface of the water, sucked in by the monstrous waves caused by the explosion that he had caused. Yaretzi had never imagined the ocean to be able to burn. And yet it did, rushing towards them with Izara only barely able to stay abreast of the oncoming wave. Her panic and Yaretzi’s fear were one and the same. Izara maneuvered through the air with dizzying prowess, ducking into the small pockets of clear sky amidst the billowing smoke. She clawed at the air to propel her body onward, struggling to carry Yaretzi and the Avatar and dodge the falling shrapnel. Katara pressed close to Yaretzi, digging her fingers into the firebender’s rib cage.
She had failed.
She had failed.
Yaretzi had seen the ship exploding long before she left the shores of the Spearhead Atoll. She had seen Izon plummet to his death long before he stretched his wings over the ocean. The scene played like a prophecy coming to fruition and she was powerless to stop it. She had hoped, foolishly, that she would be able to save Lu-Ten from himself, that she would do what was expected of her. And she had failed. Izara dipped low enough to the surface that her tail tip grazed the water before she pulled back up. Yaretzi squinted against the wind as the dragoness raced to the shore. Katara’s death grip on her waist loosened. The priestess threw a glance over her shoulder to see her falling away, her face stern with determination and her eyes, normally as blue as the skies above and the oceans below, turned an ethereal white. Yaretzi’s jaw fell slack as the Avatar fell earthward. She seemed to flow naturally through the bending forms, drawing the water to her that shot her up through the air above Yaretzi’s head. The air rippled around her. Energy ran along Yaretzi’s skin and set every hair on end.
A massive wave followed Katara’s motions, bringing with it a rush of air and earth that began to orbit around her. Yaretzi caught phantom flashes of light in the space around the Avatar. It pulled at her chi, tugging at her spirit. The force was greater than her. Greater than everything known and everything that would be known. Yaretzi looked on in terror and awe as Katara bent the water into ice, encasing the Fire God’s Prophet in a frigid shroud. The Avatar bent the world to her will, compressing the ship and surrounding waters into a tight sphere.
Izara furiously beat her wings to put distance between them. The ice cracking was thunderous, building like a storm on the horizon before at last it burst. Burning metal turned to daggers of ice. Yaretzi gripped the reins until her knuckles were white.
“Lu-Ten!”
He was nowhere to be seen.
No no no no no no. Yaretzi felt her breath quicken. She prayed to Tenochizun and Citlali, searching the corpse-filled waters. “Lu-Ten!” She had not seen his body fall with Izon. The light had blinded her and Izara had moved far too quickly, spurred on by self-preservation even as her mate met his demise. “Lu-Ten?” Yaretzi looked towards the Fire Nation capital. Half of the city was on fire. If only she had been faster, more clever then perhaps she could have stopped him. Was it not her duty to protect the dragons? And yet she had let one die. She had let her husband die. Again. But I am always the one to rectify his mistakes, an insidious seed of bitterness dug deep into her mind that Yaretzi could not shake away, and he does nothing more than lead us to our own annihilation.
Lallo had once whispered that at times he wished that she hadn’t saved him. That perhaps Lu-Ten’s soul would never have become the tormented thing that brought blood and sorrow on his heels.
Izara angled to return to the wreckage. The dragon acted on her own accord, drawn by the need to find Izon. Or rather, what remained of him. Yaretzi caught sight of one of Izon’s great red wings protruding from the water, the membrane of his wing pierced by shards of metal. She swallowed thickly. Izon had left the jungle first, Izara was more uncertain. Less inclined to leave the familiarity of their caves. Yet she had followed Izon all the same. And what did it cost them? What did it cost us? Izara chittered. With a snap of her mighty wings she spiraled towards a slab of steel upon which two figures huddled together. Yaretzi clung to the dragon’s neck tightly. The two forms began to take shape. The Avatar and Lu-Ten held onto each other, their eyes as wide as discs, trembling as Izara hovered over them. She dropped lower, allowing Yaretzi to extend her hand.
Yaretzi wrapped her fingers around Katara’s. The younger woman shivered, her gaze very far away, lost in a realm that no other mortal could reach. Yaretzi had no words for the feat that the Avatar had done, only that it was a display of the raw power that the young woman possessed, a mere glimpse of what she was truly capable of. Electricity still crackled along her skin, coursing through her body and into Yaretzi until every hair stood on end. She resisted the urge to pull away. Katara’s arms shook as she took her place upon Izara’s back.
Lu-Ten was pale. He bore the look of a lost child. Yaretzi could not find it in herself to have sympathy for him. He did this, she thought viciously, the madness has consumed him. Lu-Ten would break and destroy and break and destroy until there was only dust under his feet. Until only blood and sorrow remained in his footsteps. She refused to look at him. She could not. Yaretzi tried and failed to suppress the wave of self-loathing that came over her and choked on the unshed tears of Izara’s grief. There was a buzzing in her head that would not cease.
They drew closer to the shoreline and the extent of the explosion came into view. Yaretzi could not comprehend the nightmarish scene that spread out before her- fire and smoke and blood and bodies littering the sand and rocks from the docks to the outskirts of the city walls. The tidal wave had washed corpses alongside fish and seaweed. Hastily crafted stone tents and barricades had become tombs. The army’s assault had ground to a halt. They now fled side by side with the firebenders, as if they were brethren born of the same womb. The soldiers dragged the wounded along with them whether they wore red or green, carrying them on their shoulders or with makeshift gurneys, scrambling through the rapidly collapsing streets and gray haze. Civilians joined their number. Yaretzi saw children, some no older than babies, hoisted on the shoulders of Arakemeti soldiers and women scooped into the arms of Omashian troops. Her heart ached at the thought of Sozin enduring such chaos and a pang of longing threatened to overtake her. It should not be like this.
‘How many more will die for this evil crown that you so covet?’
‘Hundreds. Thousands.’
She stifled a sob.
“Yaretzi.” Katara’s voice pierced through the dense fog. She pointed to where the Air Nomad, Tsephel, was relentlessly trying to extinguish the flames with her airbending. Her blue eyes were dark. Her jaw set in determination.
Yaretzi nodded one, stiffly, and urged Izara to turn once more. She flew towards Dache, dropping her shoulder to allow Katara to slide off and onto the flying bison’s saddle. Tsephel, Katara, and Yaretzi shared a moment of wordless understanding. The Avatar and the Air Nomad took off to join the earthbenders and firebenders in their efforts to stop the raging fires. Yaretzi wrapped the leather around her hands. She sensed Lu-Ten leaning forward to close the space that Katara had left. He was quaking like a leaf in a storm.
“Yaretzi. Yaretzi, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”
“It is not to me whom you should be apologizing to.” Her response was cold and sharp. Yaretzi turned to look at him. “It is to Citlali and Tenochizun. It is to Agni. It is to Izara. It is to Izon. It is to the thousands of people that have died for you. Because of you!” Her nostrils flared and Yaretzi let out a ragged sigh.
Lu-Ten flinched as if she had struck him. “I don’t know- I didn’t think- I didn’t want… I didn’t want this to happen. I…” Lu-Ten began to cry. “I…Izon and I were one and the same. But I didn’t want this to happen.”
“Izon is dead because of you.” She hissed. “One of the most sacred beings in the world is dead. Men, women, and children are dead because of you.” Izara reflected her ire and growled. “Your uncle waits for you in his palace. Now the time has come for you to do what the spirit-gods destined for you. And I pray that will be your repentance.” The gods would never forgive him. And though she loved him, she would never forgive him. Yaretzi longed for Lallo, wherever he was, who always seemed to know what to say and what to do. Perhaps he was right and it would be better for the two of them to return back to their homeland with Sozin, who would know only the magic of the Sun Warriors and perhaps even become a dragonkeeper in his own right. He would never be raised to covet a throne drenched in blood. Yaretzi steeled herself and adjusted her position and with a silent command she ordered Izara to take course to the palace.
The soldiers fought valiantly to stop the spread, and as Izara climbed higher and deeper into the city, Yaretzi saw that the damage had not yet reached the innermost corners of the metropolis. The Fire Nation palace bloomed black and red, and untouched. Except, Yaretzi realized as she narrowed her eyes, for one small section from which billowed tendrils of snaking black smoke. Aside from Zuko and Azula’s sketches of their home, Yaretzi knew nothing of the palace’s layout. She knew that it was a sprawling complex, larger than SunWatch but dwarfed by the royal palace of Arakem. The Phoenix King’s banner was a lonely red beacon against a blackening sky, the most cruel welcome but perhaps the one most fitting. Yaretzi could feel Lu-Ten straighten. The warm updraft from the fires sent them higher and Izara used the subsequent downdraft to fly towards the rapidly approaching courtyard. They came upon what appeared to be a temple. Or rather what was left of it.
It was apparent that the temple had once been a stunning tribute to the Fire Nation’s god. Half of it was a crumbling, smoking ruin like the city that surrounded it. Izara roared and landed amidst the rubble and broken glass, her lashing tail stirring dust over the courtyard. Her eyes roved over the arcade. Yaretzi followed her lead. Izara went stiff and focused on a flash of white behind a pillar. She dropped her wing to allow both riders to dismount. Lu-Ten, so far removed from the destruction he had caused, was inflated with reinvigorated bravado. He threw his head high, his smirk predatory, and called out with a brusque chuckle. “Uncle! Don’t tell me that you’re afraid to face me at last! I’ve dreamt of this day. And now I’ve come to collect what was owed to me. Come out from hiding, Uncle, and see what you’ve caused.”
Yaretzi returned to the white spot on the other side of the column. She casted a glance at Lu-Ten and took a step. Her boots crushed the glass underfoot. She dropped into an unassuming crouch, drawing closer to the pillar with her arms outstretched disarmingly. A pair of blue eyes, wide and watery, met her own. Yaretzi could see why Zuko was fond of his wife. She was pretty in a way that was not quite delicate, her jaw set with resolve that she would defend herself or die trying. A fresh burn marred her arm in the shape of a hand. “You need not be afraid.” The dragonkeeper offered a hand. “You will be safer with me. I promise.” Upon the princess’s hesitation she tried again. “Prince Zuko would be rather cross if I left you behind.”
The white-haired princess grasped her fingers. Yaretzi tugged her closer before placing her hand over the princess's burn. She willed the healing fire to flow through her. Pink and green sparks flickered at her fingertips as she massaged the wound, tightening her grip when the younger woman tried to pull away. It began to heal, slowly at first and then faster, burning away the blood and leaving the skin a raw shade of pink. Yaretzi released her and smiled sheepishly. “I am sorry, it is the best I can do with the time I have.” The scar would never fade, she knew, and the princess would forever bear the mark of the man who had tortured her for so long. “Stick close to me.” Yaretzi sank into the shadows and pulled the princess down beside her. “You are Yue, yes?”
“Y-yes,” she replied. Her eyes did not leave Izara, who had drawn closer to shield them, her tail lashing in agitation. Almost unconsciously she reached for Yaretzi’s hand and Yaretzi did not pull her hand away.
A figure appeared on a nearby pagoda, a man who appeared to be Lu-Ten and Zuko decades in the future. The Phoenix King leapt from the awning and landed across from Lu-Ten. He bore a predatory smirk. “Look at you, Nephew, here at last. Iroh’s boy. I loved my brother once, but he was weak. This is no world for weakness, no world for men who do not conquer and reach for the power of the gods. You even brought a dragon to me. I will create a new Harmonic Convergence and you, Nephew, will be amongst the first to die.”
Yaretzi’s breath caught in her throat. A dragon? He meant to harm Izara. And that she would not stand for.
Lu-Ten bared his teeth. “Do you accept my challenge, Uncle?”
The Phoenix King chuckled. His hands glowed as flames appeared at his fists and Lu-Ten did the same. He dipped at the knees.
And lunged.
Lu-Ten darted to the left, avoiding the fireballs thrown at him. His uncle followed his movements, never letting Lu-Ten get too far, each punch and kick more vicious than the last. Lu-Ten moved with the grace of a Sun Warrior. He did not flinch at the sparks that fell on his shoulders as he dodged the Phoenix King’s blows. He retaliated by sending out ribbons of crackling red fire.
Neither man made a sound.
Ozai drew power from anger. He did not know the true way of firebending and was too consumed by hate to ever learn. His fire burnt white. He was light on his feet, seeming to glide over the ground. Lu-Ten danced and spun, sending out his own fire-whips that Ozai evaded with practiced ease. It was known that he was one of the most powerful firebenders in the world, perhaps the most powerful. Lu-Ten held his own, though Yaretzi knew her husband well enough to know that he was tiring. The explosion and plunging into the sea had weakened him further.
Beside her Yue watched the duel unfold. Yaretzi wondered which god she was praying to.
Lu-Ten slipped into a familiar bending form, drawing both arms up to form a curtain between him and his uncle. He was panting heavily. Lu-Ten dropped into a spin and with each rotation of his legs a vortex of fire. He lashed out with a sweeping kick and scrambled to his feet as Ozai parted the ball of fire rushing towards him. Lu-Ten propelled himself away from his uncle, rearing back when Ozai lit a ring around the two of them. The Phoenix King’s arms churned tight circles and electricity crackled at his fingertips and snaked up his arms like a white serpent.
Yaretzi felt Yue tug on her arm. “He’s lightning-bending,” she said in a forceful whisper, “does Lu-Ten know how to redirect lightning?”
He did not.
The first bolt missed him by a hair’s breadth. Lu-Ten flattened his body to the ground and rolled clear. The sudden crack of thunder caused Yaretzi to flinch. She heard him cry out, uninjured but terrified, covering his head. A second flash burst against her eyelids. The lightning caused electricity to linger in the courtyard, causing every hair to stand on end. Izara was seemingly unaffected. She pressed the bulk of her body closer to shield them. Yaretzi urged her to remain still.
“Rise, Nephew. Or do you wish to cower like my weakling of a son?” Ozai stepped closer. His head tilted high as he looked down at Lu-Ten in contempt. “I expected more of a challenge.”
Yaretzi balled her fists so tightly that bright crescent moons formed in her palms. She rose up on one knee and prayed to Tenochizun to guide her steps. Izara instinctively curled around Yue and Yaretzi emerged from their hiding place behind the pillar.
“No! What are you doing?! He’s going to kill you!” Yue reached for the hem of her shirt but Yaretzi shrugged her away. With a prayer on her lips, the Sun Priestess conjured her firebending and charged.
Ozai looked up as she advanced on him, a flicker of surprise crossing his features that morphed into predatory amusement. He turned to face her, his flames white and rushed to meet her.
With only yards between them, Yaretzi flew forward, swinging her leg in a spinning kick that propelled her through the air. She spun once and then twice. In the brief heartbeats above Ozai, she twisted at the waist and punched out four blasts of flame at the man’s head. He dodged easily, as she knew he would. Yaretzi landed in a crouch, digging her boots into the ground and launching herself back at the older firebender without pause. The dragonkeeper pranced on her toes, never in one place more than once, switching directions like the wind. Ozai gave her no respite. Jets of fire streamed after her, licking at her heels. If I hesitate then I will die. She did not allow fear to consume her. She could not allow fear to consume her.
Yaretzi rolled into a cartwheel, sending out a rapid succession first from her feet and then from her hands. Her ankle buckled and she stumbled, regaining her footing seconds before a blast of fire struck where she had landed. Sweat blinded her. Through the blur she saw Lu-Ten rise. Their eyes met and he gave an understanding nod. He launched at his uncle.
Yaretzi feinted and drew Ozai’s attention back to her. She copied a move that she had once seen exhibited by Azula and Zuko. She began to skate around the courtyard, darting in and out, allowing Lu-Ten enough time to rejoin her.
The two of them fell into sync. They moved opposite of each other yet equidistant, attacking Ozai from different angles like incessant flies. Where Yaretzi dipped, Lu-Ten leapt high, and where she spun, he fired straight. Ozai growled in aggravation, unable to attack them both at once. But still they could not gain the upper hand and turn on the offensive. Ozai was too fast, his flames too bright and hot, his rage unconquerable. His aim was precise even through his fury, the result of a long-cultivated self-control that younger men lacked. He would not exhaust himself like Lu-Ten or Zuko would’ve done. Many times he missed them by only an inch and Yaretzi wondered if he was toying with them, like a cat would play with a mouse before attacking it, seeking to catch them in a moment of vulnerability. Yaretzi was unable to focus on much else except for survival.
Lu-Ten dove into the Phoenix King’s circle of defense. “You’re strong, Uncle, but I waited for this day. I dreamt of this moment. Consider this the end of your era of tyranny, of inflicting suffering upon those you consider beneath you. At your core you are a coward, a craven, and a thief.”
They began to fight hand to hand, flashes of light bursting from their fists. Ozai brought his leg up and kicked Lu-Ten in the chest. The younger man was sent sprawling.
And then Ozai turned to Izara.
The now-familiar sound of generating lightning sent a shiver down Yaretzi’s sound. Izara reared up to her full height and extended her wings. She released a world-shattering roar and faced the Phoenix King. An unfamiliar yet righteous anger filled Yaretzi which was reflected in the she-dragon’s bellow. She let out a shout that morphed into a cry of war and sprang at the Phoenix King before he could strike, throwing him off-kilter. “No,” she snarled, “you will not!”
Yaretzi latched onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him with every ounce of strength that remained in her. Her fingers found purchase in his hair and her legs tightened around his waist. She thrashed about, raking blindly at his face although she could not see it. An additional weight flung the man a few steps back. He staggered. Yaretzi caught a flash of white hair and blue eyes burning with a hatred that even set her at unease. Yue joined her in the assault on Ozai. She tore at him with her nails. Years of sorrow and repugnance fueled her. Together they attacked the tyrant savagely. He ripped at Yue’s collar and flung her sidelong before reaching over his shoulders and gripping the fabric of Yaretzi’s shirt. He dislodged her with ease, pulling her over his head and slamming her onto the concrete as if she was feather-light. Yaretzi felt the air leave her lungs and darkness formed at the edges of her vision. Everything became muted and distant.
“I admire the courage of you both.” Ozai stood over her. He held one hand up and lit a ball of fire that glowed hotter and hotter still. “Very few possess the dauntlessness that you’ve displayed. It seems that the world has underestimated how far you will go. How unfortunate that you must die alongside your dragon.”
His foot pressed into her shoulder, driving her further into the concrete. “At least I’ll give you the respect of killing you cleanly.”
Ozai jolted. His mouth fell open and Yaretzi caught the familiar smell of burning flesh. His hateful eyes widened in surprise. Lu-Ten stood behind him, his arms still frozen in the position in which he had struck the crucial blow. The Phoenix King stumbled away and Yaretzi broke free, scrambling to her husband’s side. She saw the charred flesh of Ozai’s back melding into his armor, a red ring of blood beginning to form and slide down his back. It was raw, and ugly, and satisfying.
Yaretzi yelped as the man lurched once more, arching his singed back and staggering a few feet, only to be held in place by a delicate brown hand. For the first time in his life, Ozai looked afraid. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as his words came out unintelligible and red. Yaretzi was not sure if it was a curse or a plea for mercy.
Yue appeared in front of him, having somehow risen to her feet. She held the Phoenix King in place where he stood while her other hand clutched a dagger. It was shoved into Ozai’s chest, just under his heart, buried to the hilt. She leaned her forehead against him and Yaretzi could see her staring into his eyes. The Tribal Princess flashed her teeth in a venomous imitation of a grin. At that moment Yaretzi and Lu-Ten did not exist to her. Nothing else mattered.
Yaretzi grabbed Lu-Ten’s arm. She strained her ears to hear Yue’s next words.
“Do you remember what you said to me, Your Grace? The night that you…that you tried to take everything from me? You said that everything in the Fire Nation was under your dominion, do you remember? That I was under your dominion, yours to control, yours to hurt and hurt and hurt. That is all that you’ve ever done. That is all that you know how to do, isn’t it, Your Grace? What kind of man kills his own wife, who in spite of her own transgressions, bloodied her hands to elevate you to greatness? To make you the morning and evening star? What kind of man burns his own son, his own flesh and blood who sought for nothing more than to please you?” Yue’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her words were for Ozai and Ozai alone. “Do you remember how much I cried and begged? Even before you laid your hands on me and bruised and burned me, you took pleasure in my suffering. I don’t consider you to be a man at all. Do you remember what else you said, not long ago? Just earlier today in fact.” She twisted the blade and drove it deeper still. “Do you remember? You asked me, ‘was it worth it?’.” She moved her hand from his spine to the nape of his neck, pulling his head down until their foreheads touched. “So now I will answer your question, Your Grace. It is worth it. It is worth watching you choke on your own blood as you breathe your last, Ozai. It is worth it to watch the light drain from your eyes and know that my face will be the last thing you see.”
The princess yanked the dagger free, dragging it upward as she did so and cutting a deeper wound into the Phoenix King’s chest. She held his gaze and smirked with glee and long-desired satisfaction as the man fell unceremoniously at her feet. “Hm. I guess phoenixes really don’t rise from the ashes after all.”
That is something Lallo or Chief Sokka would say, Yaretzi thought.
Yue finally turned her attention to the dragonkeeper and the Fire Lord. The dagger, which Yaretzi noted was made from two different metals, clattered to the ground. “I suppose that this means I am the only person present who can surrender the palace to you.” She snickered deridingly. “You can have it.”
Lu-Ten’s jaw fell open incredulously. He gawked at his cousin’s wife, stupefied by her wrath. Yaretzi was not. There were few lines that a woman scorned would not cross. She knew that Lu-Ten had dreamed of striking the fatal blow. But perhaps Yue was more deserving, she considered it, this justice was always meant to be hers.
She noticed Yue’s trembling hands despite her acidic half-smile. The Phoenix King was dead but the city was still burning. Yue seemed to be thinking the same. Lu-Ten’s gaze shifted, as if he was in a world of his own creation, a world that Yaretzi knew would only bring devastation. His bloodlust was sated but his anger was not. Yaretzi laid a calming hand on his shoulder. Her husband blinked, returning to the present. “We must see what has become of the caldera,” Yaretzi said as Izara drew closer. Through their shared connection she thanked the dragon for what she had done, for defending her and the Princess Yue even when she could barely fly.
It was as if the dragon had known that the fight was to be theirs alone. Yaretzi called her spirit-sister to her. “I know you are tired, spirit-sister, but can you carry three?”
Izara chittered.
Yue hesitated, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of mounting the massive creature. If she’s afraid of Izara, she would have died of fright upon seeing Izon. Yaretzi blinked rapidly to assuage the sting of tears. There would be time to grieve later, and to be angry. She beckoned Yue closer. “Come. Her scales will be hot when you touch them, but it will not burn you.” Dragons had the ability to control their body temperature far better than any human could, and Yaretzi knew that Izara would do no harm. “Nor does she bite. Unless I ask her to,” she flashed a disarming grin, “I swear it.”
As if to prove her point Izara chuffed and lowered her head, bumping into Yue’s torso with her snout. Slowly she reached out to ghost her fingertips over the scales on the dragon’s neck. Peace seemed to come over her.
“There are no words to describe her, no?” Yaretzi nudged Yue to approach Izara’s back. “We mustn’t linger. They need us. We will find Prince Zuko. There are many others who we must find.” Upon seeing Yue’s stricken visage Yaretzi took her wrist and firmly pressed her palm flat against the space between Izara’s eye ridges. “You need not be afraid.” She echoed her earlier words. Lu-Ten was beginning to slump from fatigue. The sun would soon set over the caldera. It was fitting in a way. A man who called himself the morning star, snuffed out by a woman touched by the moon, and now the sun would fall on what he left behind. Izara had turned her head to look up at them. “You do believe me, yes?”
Yue held on and did not let go. Blood had pooled under her fingernails. For the first time Yaretzi noticed the red splatter on her cheeks and forehead, sprinkled in her hair. “Yes,” she echoed and then louder, more boldly, as if challenging the world to tell her otherwise: “Yes.”
Notes:
It took a long time to decide who would take down Ozai. It would’ve been the classic way for Lu-Ten to strike the final blow, and in a way he did by taking him by surprise, but this was Yue’s poetic justice. I wanted her last words to Ozai to channel all of the rage and pain of an abused woman finally getting her vengeance, and I hope I did it justice. Also:
Yaretzi: “I do not condone violence.”
Also Yaretzi: “BEAT HIS ASS!!!”
Chapter 68: When the Smoke Clears
Notes:
This is a short, intermittent chapter to bridge the gap, and Sokka's observance of the aftermath. School, life, writer's block, and then working on an original work really pushed this chapter back.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Sokka
Katara raced away from him, slipping through his fingers once again, disappearing into the chaos that surrounded them. He stumbled and landed on his face, trying and failing to rise again. Tenoch and Kunip were pulling at him, dragging him backwards. Sokka lashed out with his foot and felt it connect with Tenoch’s nose. The man reared back but did not release him even as Sokka screamed and cursed, digging his nails into the dirt.
“Sokka!” Kunip pleaded. “We have to go!”
“No!” He cried out. “I have to get my sister. Let me go!”
Tenoch, who possessed surprising strength for his age, threw Sokka over his shoulder and joined the others in their retreat. Sokka looked helplessly up at the sky as Lu-Ten and his dragon soared over them. The elder Sun Warrior’s steps faltered. Azula tried and failed to stop her cousin’s advance with her lightning-bending. The others were running. Jet had scooped Toph into his arms and she clung to his neck without protest, her sightless eyes wide with confusion and fear. She was just a little girl after all, Sokka thought, for all her brawn and pomp. Rojhan dragged Suki and Lallo onto the Komodo-rhino’s back. Widespread panic had turned to a chaotic stampede of fleeing soldiers and civilians alike. And still Izon flew on. Tsephel and Dache were pursuing him. It’s no use, Sokka groaned in despair.
Izon’s red bulk loomed over the Fire God’s Prophet, only to be thrown aback by a paler, more slender beast. The sky became a battlefield as the two dragons, the Fire Lord and his sorceress, warred against each other. It was a spectacular sight, and perhaps in any other circumstance Sokka would have been overcome with awe. It wasn’t every day that dragons fought each other.
It wasn’t every day that they fled for their lives.
Well…
They galloped uphill. Jet set Toph onto the ground and with a fierce sweep of her arms, she lifted a slab of earth to carry them further and faster than their feet would allow.
The flash of light came first. The sound came next.
And then came the fire.
Sokka did not see Izon breathe fire upon the Fire God’s Prophet. Nor did he witness the rapid expansion of air and water that formed a raging vortex that rushed towards the shore. It came towards them like an all-consuming god, its rage insatiable. Sokka watched as men were taken under by the resulting tidal wave and crushed by falling buildings. The memory of the attack by the Takuuans came back to him, followed quickly by Touqa’s horrid,undeserving death. As he was carried by Tenoch, Sokka (without shame, without inhibition) began to cry.
Tenoch set him down and Sokka wondered what he had done to deserve such a bad hand in life. (Not the worst, but the last few years certainly were in the running to be the shittiest.) Toph flung them into an alleyway, bending a shield of bricks around them as the city began to collapse and drown. Her shoulders shook from exertion. The little earthbender doubled over. He was not sure how long they huddled in the cramped darkness of Toph’s makeshift shelter. The only sound within was their heaving breaths. The sounds outside seemed to come from a hellscape of misery, despair, and death beyond mortal imaginings. The Fire Nation capital came down around them, pelting them with fallen stones that threatened to break their barrier of protection.
“Toph,” Rojhan said, “we’re safer above than below. If this dome breaks then we’re all doomed.”
The earthbender understood his suggestion. Twisting her wrists, Toph elevated them all to high ground as far inland as she could. She propelled them skyward and onto the roof of a building that yet remained stable. The bricks fell away, revealing the blackened sky.
Sokka had seen too much and too quickly in his (admittedly short) life. He had seen the aftermath of his father being slain and his home nearly razed to the ground, he had seen men mutilated beyond repair (himself included), he had held his best friend as he passed away. He had seen the aftermath of Saowan and Kheosho. But he had never imagined this. He put his hands on top of his head and gaped in sheer disbelief at the aftermath of the explosion of the Fire God’s Prophet.
“Look!” Suki pointed. “It’s…Katara!”
A flash of blue hovered in the air above the water. In the heartbeat after, he saw Katara plummeting seaward. The next he saw her suspended in the air, moving with inhuman speed as she bent the elements and the fabric of the universe itself to her will. She forced the immense burst of energy back into itself, until the flaming metal began to bend at the pressure of the sphere of ice forming around it, collapsing under the weight of a frigid chrysalis. She had been too late for the first eruption- the worst of it- but Sokka’s heart clenched with pride even through the haze of terror. His little sister saving the world. Well, maybe just the Fire Nation but one step at a time.
One dragon passed overhead, but it was not the larger one. The beast had been swallowed up by the ocean and would never rise again. His rider (for better or worse) had been spared.
Zuko craned his neck and shoved them all aside to climb to a higher position on the balcony upon which Toph had deposited them. Part of Sokka regretted his initial vitriolic response after Zuko and the others arrived empty-handed after infiltrating the palace to save Yue. The (former?) prince had gone pale and sweaty, his pupils dilated to the point of mania, and it was only by the grace of the spirit-gods and the iron grip of his sister that he did not charge off on a suicide mission. Well, another suicide mission. “That’s Yaretzi and Lu-Ten.” He stated the obvious but Sokka gave the man some grace. “They’re going back to the palace. They’re going back for Yue.”
Lallo made a deriding sound in his throat. “I loathe to disappoint you, Prince, but Lu-Ten is going to face his uncle. After lighting his entire city on fire. Rescuing Yue will be an added bonus…if she’s alive.”
For a moment Sokka was certain that Zuko would attack the Sun Warrior. Tenoch, no stranger to adolescent impulsivity, put an arm between them. “We must do what we can. Right now we must help as many people as possible.” He pointed to the streets below where soldiers and civilians alike were running for their lives. Others had stopped and were working together in an attempt to stall the spread of the fire.
In the darkest times, that is when you become who you really are. Sokka had once heard his father say those words, so long ago. Sokka could not fight, not like before, and he knew it would be useless for him to even attempt to join the benders on the ground. He lifted his head and spotted Tsephel and Dache, joined by his sister. Together they were extinguishing the fires with their combined bending. They moved as efficiently as a well-oiled machine, as if they had been carved from the same stone. On the ground earthbenders and firebenders alike were doing the same. Sokka leveled his gaze upon the group on the balcony. “Tenoch is right. We have to do something.”
Even if you’re wrong, even if you fail, try.
Sokka’s father had never scolded him when he fell while training, had never made him feel inadequate or ashamed. Even if you’re wrong, even if you fail, try.
“Rojhan, Jet, I need you to get down there in the left quadrant. There’s a cluster of earthbenders herding the stranglers. There’s kids down there. Mika, there’s a fountain just below on that corner. Get down there and put out what you can.” Sokka paused and Azula quirked a perfectly arched brow. They exchanged a stare that was partly a challenge and partly a plea. Unlike her brother Azula was not so discomposed. She was as indecipherable as she always was, to the point that it unsettled Sokka. “We need every hand that we can get,” he said and after a pause he added, “If this city’s worth saving then we have to start now.” Perhaps to another soul it might have appealed to their conscience, but Azula had little regard for peasantry. “Toph, do you think you can handle it?”
The blind earthbender wiped perspiration from her brow. She could not see, but she could sense and hear their pounding hearts. Sokka knew her well enough to recognize the fog of weariness that quickly passed over her face. “Of course I can,” she boasted, “and I can do it twice!”
Kunip patted her hair affectionately even when she swatted at him. “We know you can, tough-guy. No one ever doubted you.” Sokka knew that Toph had clung to Kunip and Suki most after Touqa died, and that Kunip had grown a soft spot for the braggadocious little girl. Kunip turned back to his chieftain. “What do you need me to do, Chief?”
Sokka mentally ran calculations. Rojhan and Jet could move faster together. Azula and Zuko were most familiar with the city’s geography, but Lallo and Tenoch had volunteered to follow the Princess. Perhaps it was best that Zuko remained behind, Sokka thought, he wouldn’t prove to be of much use if he remained in the catatonic state in which he was now. “Go with Mika.”
Suki, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, stepped closer. “I’m staying with you.” Not like Sokka had expected anything different.
Yet not for the first time Sokka felt the creeping, insidious feeling of inadequacy slither up his spine. How could he give orders when he could not lead from the front line? Why would they heed the orders of a cripple when Azula and Suki and Tenoch stood before them? Yet their eyes reflected nothing but respect (albeit begrudgingly for some, well, just one.) Sokka stood a little taller and tried to ignore the pulsing ache in his leg. In the darkest times, that is when you become who you really are.
By spear and oath.
They dispatched in sets. Toph lowered them slowly, her wrists moving in tight rolls and snaps as if she were operating a pulley. Sokka watched them leave, each of them stone-faced with resolve as they prepared to enter the chaos. Even from the balcony Sokka could hear the frenzied screams and shrieks of babies and small children clinging to their mothers and fathers. Katara and Tsephel remained airborne, swooping over each quadrant and pouring water as quickly as Katara could bend it.
And the Order of the White Lotus wants to put the very man who caused this on the throne. A man just as psychotic as his uncle. Bird Brains might’ve killed his own people but at least he didn’t have a dragon.
Sokka wondered if this was what the wars of the past looked like, back when the firebenders were ruled by warlords who were also dragonriders. He was no expert on Fire Nation history, but he knew that the first Fire Lord had not come onto the throne peacefully. The previous leaders of the Clan of Nanook hadn’t been the type to sing happy songs but none of them had tried to slaughter their own people. It was counterproductive. It certainly didn’t make for a nice reputation.
Lu-Ten’s wife had tried. That much had been clear. The she-dragon and the priestess had descended upon her husband and his much larger dragon with claws gleaming in the sunlight. Sokka had never envisioned a dragon fight, and perhaps at any other time it might have been a spectacle for the ages, except a war was being fought around him and he was trying not to piss himself. It was a valiant effort (the dragon battle, not him trying not to piss himself). The dragons had not breathed fire but the fight was fierce enough without it. Yaretzi had been unable to gain the upper hand even after Katara had joined her on the dragon’s back. She’d make a better Fire Lady alone. But this was Lu-Ten’s war. And Sokka had no desire to entangle himself in the web of Fire Nation politics any more than he already had. He wanted to collect his sister, reunite with his friends and his dogs, and go home.
“Zuko?” Suki’s voice broke Sokka from his daydream. Daymare really. The Kyoshi Warrior faced the firebending prince.
Zuko did not turn to face them. His eyes never strayed from the direction of the palace. He shook his head in defeat. “He can’t win. Lu-Ten won’t beat my father. He can’t.” His voice cracked. “My father is too strong.”
Ozai was the uncontested strongest firebender in the world. Even Sokka knew that the only reason Zuko hadn’t been killed during his Agni Kai was because of his father’s restraint. It had never been Ozai’s intention to kill his son, Sokka knew, only to break him both in body and spirit. That was the kind of man that he was.
“Lu-Ten has Yaretzi,” Suki argued. “The two of them together could take him on.” Sokka admired her optimism. “Yaretzi can burn people alive. And they have the dragon.”
Spirits it would be easier if she did.
Her reassurances did nothing to assuage Zuko’s self-imposed tribulation. He began to sweat and pace back and forth. “That’s the thing! My father wants them to come to him. He wants them to bring Izara. He needs divine blood because my father thinks he can become a god!”
You have got to be kidding me. Right when you think the whack-job can’t get any loonier then here he comes ready to break his own record.
Suki blanched. “T-that can’t be possible. There’s no way he could do that.” She shook her head vehemently as if to deny the very idea of such a thing. “They can take him on. They have to take him on. Right, Sokka? You’re always logical, can’t they beat Ozai together?”
Sokka didn’t want to think about that. Sokka really didn't want to think about anything at all.
Yet both Zuko and Suki were watching him in expectation. “It’ll be a close fight,” he offered pathetically. It was about as good as they were going to get.
Sokka tried not to imagine what had happened to Yue. He couldn’t. She remained trapped with the Phoenix King. No one knew if she was even still alive. In a way she would remain a liability. Lu-Ten had sworn to bring her back and Ozai would not be the type to relinquish her so easily. She would be stuck between two psychopaths, a dragon, and a witch. Her chances of survival were probably the best with the witch. Yaretzi was naturally about as aggressive as a sparrowkeet. A sparrowkeet with the power to roast a man from the inside, sure, but only as a last resort.
Zuko’s countenance took on the expression of a kicked otter-puppy. Sokka wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted him to say. He instead chose to turn his attention back to the streets. It was funny, in a morbid sense, that the armies that had been previously trying to kill each other were now only carrying each other on their backs. Then again, Sokka was fairly certain that the firebenders had only been fighting because the Phoenix King would have incinerated them otherwise.
Dache, Tsephel’s bison, threw a six-legged shadow over them. Sokka craned his neck. Tsephel peered down at them, her brown face having gone pale with exertion. Her lips, normally curved into an amicable smile, were down-turned and grim. Please no. Sokka felt his knee grow weak and he took a clumsy step backwards, halted only by Suki’s hand pressing into his spine. Please no. No, no, no, no. Don't take her from me. Not again.
There was no room for Dache to land. She angled her body and tilted her flank. Tsephel knelt and with a grunt she lifted Katara, dazed and barely conscious, by her underarms. The lithe airbender glared at them halfheartedly. “Well don’t just stand there,” she snapped, “help me!”
Zuko sprang forward before Sokka could regain his footing. He gingerly lifted Sokka’s sister and positioned her in his arms, one locked underneath her knees and the other braced against her shoulders. He turned (awkwardly) to Sokka. “What do I do with her?”
“Put her down for one,” Suki said and cradled Katara’s head as Zuko lowered her onto the balcony floor. The Kyoshi Warrior gently lifted one of Katara’s eyelids and Sokka saw her blue eyes flutter, unseeing.
Tsephel rubbed her arm sheepishly. “She did all she could, but that…energybending…it takes more than it gives.” She turned and gestured to the coast behind them. “But look…she did it. She did it.” Her eyes met Sokka’s, brightened by a glimmer of pride. She dropped to her knees as Katara groaned. “Wake up, Katara,” she said softly, “you’re alright. I even made sure Lusa’s alright, she’s with one of the Arakemeti Second Shields. You’re alright. And your brother is here. Look, he’s right here.”
Katara’s chest heaved as she inhaled sharply. She blinked slowly, at last focusing on Sokka’s face. She struggled to rise into a sitting position. Sokka slid his arm under her and lifted her. “I couldn’t stop him.” Her voice cracked. “I couldn’t stop him!”
Suki took Katara’s hand. “That doesn’t matter,” the auburn haired young woman said, “you saved us. You saved the entire caldera. Not even another dragon could stop Lu-Ten, there’s nothing you could have done.” She looked pleadingly at those accompanying her. “This is what you were meant to do.”
She was meant to just be my sister, my right hand, helping me lead our Tribe, Sokka thought. It was what their father had wanted. But the Universe had ordained otherwise. He clasped Katara’s hand. “Dad would be proud,” he whispered for her ears alone, “and I’m proud, too.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “We’ll be home soon. And then you can rest. We can rest.”
His sister leaned forward. The fiery determination had returned to her eyes as she brushed all of them aside and struggled to her feet. She did not look like his sister in that moment, framed by a burning city with her hair falling wild and long around her face. Sokka’s memories of his mother were faded and faint, more often than not just a blurred face that slowly morphed into Katara’s, until his sister became the image of the warrior woman that they had claimed their mother to be. With her jaw clenched Katara turned away from him and Sokka saw her taking in the scene below them. The First Spears and Omashian commanders had managed to herd the fleeing civilians in the direction of the main city square, hundreds and perhaps thousands of people pressed in atop each other. Wails of grief and despair filled the air, setting every hair on Sokka’s arms on end. It would haunt his dreams, he knew, just as Kheosho and Saowan, and the day he lost his leg, and the day his father was murdered.
“I have to go down there and help,” she said. “They need my healing abilities.” Her tone brokered no argument. “They need me.”
Zuko was the first to join her, followed by Suki. Tsephel turned expectantly to Sokka. “Well? You’ve been leading us for all this time, don’t stop now.” She extended her hand. “If I’m loyal to one Polar Bear Dog then I’m loyal to the other.” Katara groaned in exasperation as Tsephel dropped into her seat on Dache’s saddle. She clicked her tongue and her beloved mount took them down.
Mika had already reached the closest survivors with Kunip and Toph. He knelt in front of a young man clutching his head and Sokka’s stomach turned upon realizing that he was holding his eye in the socket. Mika’s hands guided the glowing water over the gash in the young man’s face where he had been struck by some falling object, cleaning the blood and sealing the skin with his waterbending. Kunip wrapped a strip of gauze around the man’s eye. One of the second-rank commanders of Lu-Ten’s Arakemeti army, was guiding the most injured closer. A Second Shield, Sokka remembered the title, only a step below a First Spear. They were joined by Lallo and Azula.
“Princess! Princess!” The battered citizens called out for the Phoenix King’s daughter. “Princess Azula, please."
It took a different sort of desperation to beg for help from Azula. But Sokka could understand. Foreign invaders had just brought unimaginable devastation to their island, their capital. His people had done the same after his father was killed.
Azula’s shoulders were stiff. Sokka wondered what thoughts went through her head. She stood some feet away, nearly avoidant.
Katara quickly joined Mika in his efforts to heal as many people as he could. Zuko went to his sister’s side. They formed two halves of the same coin, save for the scar on Zuko’s face. His name was added to the pleading cry. He was just as rigid, perhaps even more so.
The Arakemeti and Omashian soldiers had begun to regroup. They swarmed in clusters of light and dark green, administering aid where they could. Sokka took a step forward. “Let me help,” he said. One of the Second Spears looked down at him, his own face stained with soot, and nodded solemnly as he pressed a spool of gauze into Sokka’s hands.
Sokka set to work doing what he could. The faces appearing before him were unfamiliar. They began to blur, one flowing into the next, and he continued to work methodically. The sun was beginning to set and still he did not rest.
Suki knelt before a bruised child who could not be more than seven years old. Her expression was pinched, as if she was holding back tears. She raised her head to meet Sokka’s gaze, her eyes dark and burning. He knew the words running through her mind were the same as those in his own. 'Lu-Ten did this.'
Not my nation, not my war.
A sense of guilt caused Sokka’s stomach to tighten. Children did not deserve to die, nor to lose their families and homes. What right did he have to escape unharmed when the little boy kneeling before him cradled his mangled arm to his chest? Why was his sister destined to bear the burden? Why did he still live when Pauqa and Touqa and countless others did not?
They were joined by a cluster of battered soldiers led by the First Spear Gakere. He was limping. “The war is finished,” he declared hoarsely. “The city has surrendered. Unconditionally.”
That much was obvious but it was a relief to hear nevertheless. Sokka sagged against Katara, who caught him easily. Briefly he wondered how his sister managed to stay upright after just demonstrating the inhuman strength of the Avatar. The dark rings under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.
“The highest ranking officers have ordered all able-bodied commanders of both armies to convene at the highest point of the city to take the number of casualties and to…” Gakere paused as if to find the right words. “To determine how we should proceed.” He turned warily to the Fire Nation palace shining like a blood garnet in the distance. “While the Fire Lord remains absent.”
Sokka recalled what Zuko had told them. Ozai had intended to lure Lu-Ten to him, not only to battle him but also to kill his dragons (or rather, dragon). It was very well possible that Lu-Ten had already perished. In which case they were screwed. Even more than they already were. Gakere watched him expectantly and Sokka wondered why everyone had started to see him as the decision-maker in the situation. He could think of several others who would be better suited. The Princess and Prince of the Fire Nation for starters. Tenoch. Even Katara. Yet here he was yet again, forced to make decisions on the fly. If Lu-Ten was dead then it would mean that Zuko would ascend the throne after all.
He fell in step with Gakere. His mind was numb, as were his hands from so diligently working to help the wounded. Suki’s presence held him upright. On his other side was Katara. They passed through the streets of what was once a proud and ancient city, left scorched and drowned. The damage was not so severe in the upper levels, having been spared by the higher elevation of the hills and Katara’s timely arrival. It made the sight no less painful.
A number of the others had already gathered. They looked no less haggard. Lord Dejen and Ishragha stood at the front of the growing crowd. Sokka had not paid the elders much mind. His attention (understandably so) had been on other matters. Dejen’s dark skin was ashen. Ishragha, who Sokka had learned was as ornery as a stork-snake, was equally rattled. Who isn’t? He thought sardonically. The Arakemeti nobleman eyed the growing assembly warily. Tenoch joined him and Ishragha. “Chief Sokka, Princess Azula, Prince Zuko, Princess Katara…please, if you would come closer?”
Sokka did as he was bade, falling into the tight circle that the elders and soldiers had formed. Tenoch stared at Prince Zuko unwaveringly. Ishragha’s dark face was unreadable. “Prince Zuko…if both your father and cousin have been killed, then you will be crowned as the Lord of the Fire Nation.” The sandbender’s tone was brisk. “There is no other option.”
Zuko had renounced his claim to the throne after swearing loyalty to his cousin. Sokka had thought it strange that he had not been removed from the line of succession after being burned by his father, but Ozai’s purported cruelty knew no bounds. Being the Crown Prince had been punishment enough after having to endure his wife being violated by his own father and then later having that same father burn half of his face off. He worked his jaw.
His response was interrupted by a collective, audible gasp. “Look, Chief.” Kunip gestured skyward, his mouth agape. “It’s-”
“Lu-Ten.” Sokka finished the sentence.
The now familiar sound of powerful wings grew louder, causing all heads to turn. Framed by the red-tinged sky, Lu-Ten’s last remaining dragon descended upon them. She was not so large nor so impressive as Izon, yet she still lived while her mate sank to the depths off the coast. The color of her scales was muted by the haze of dissipating smoke and the dying sunlight. She circled above them once and then once again with a high-pitched cry. As she drew closer, it became apparent that she carried not two figures, but three. Two were dark-haired and familiar, but the other…Sokka’s breath caught in his throat.
Time and distance had separated them but he knew the white hair all the same.
The group of soldiers broke apart to allow the dragon to land. She did so clumsily, her claws throwing sparks from scraping the ground, obviously weakened from her own battle, and dropped her shoulder to allow her riders to dismount. Yaretzi and Lu-Ten dismounted first, both bruised and bedraggled. Lu-Ten staggered forward. He pressed his lips into a hard line as he searched the ruined cityscape and the anxious onlookers. The dying sun framed him. His hair had fallen loose from his topknot. He did not look so much like a Fire Lord then. More like a broken man whose retributions for his actions were on his heels, and yet he refused to face them.
After a moment’s pause and a great sigh, he lifted his head. “The Phoenix King,” Lu-Ten called out, “is dead!”
If he expected cries of glee and fanfare, then he was sorely disappointed. Sokka could only focus on the figure behind him. Her white hair and clothing was splattered with blood.
Yue.
Izara had curled her sinewy body around the priestess and the princess. Yue was as slender and gracile as Sokka remembered, albeit her features were sharper, her eyes more scrutinizing, her expression more stoic. Understandably so, he thought. Though she seemed to be taking note of her surroundings, her gaze settled on no one.
It was Azula who came to Lu-Ten’s aid. She strode forward and stood at her cousin’s side, raising her chin. “The Phoenix King,” she repeated, “is dead. The Fire Nation has been freed from his tyranny. And the rightful Fire Lord has returned!” Azula lifted her fist, her knuckles cloaked in her signature blue flames. “Hail to Fire Lord Lu-Ten!”
The Princess’s acceptance of her cousin’s victory seemed to be the catalyst. A slow, apprehensive, rumble of ratification rose up. First the soldiers from the Earth Kingdoms and then those of the Fire Nation, followed by the civilians. They bowed in waves. Sokka did not. His leg wouldn’t permit him, he rationalized. A crippled man couldn’t bow. He did not miss the gleam in Lu-Ten’s eye. It appeared to be one of both triumph and suspicion.
Lu-Ten beckoned to Yue, drawing her to his side with his hand on her elbow. She finally seemed to return to the present, her eyes searching the myriad of faces. They landed first on Sokka and her face brightened with recognition. Lu-Ten’s grin widened. “And with my uncle’s death, Princess Yue has been rescued. I promise that what has transpired here and the lives sacrificed have not been in vain.”
Sokka noticed the stain of blood on Yue’s clothing and the notable absence of it on Yaretzi or Lu-Ten. The epiphany dawned upon him. Yue had killed someone, that much was clear. Zuko and the others had been forced to leave her behind in the collapsing temple. While Sokka prided himself on his wit, it didn’t take an oracle to make the connection. Yue killed Ozai, he realized. There's no way Yue killed Ozai. She killed Ozai?
Yue killed Ozai!
“Shit,” Katara whispered incredulously and Sokka’s head snapped around in disbelief. The corner of her lips twitched upward in the beginnings of a mischievous grin before she turned away.
Making a mental note to scold his sister later, the young Water Tribe warrior returned his attention to Yue. She took a tentative step forward, however her progress was hindered by Yaretzi’s forearm blocking her path. The priestess whispered something into Yue’s ear, causing her to deflate. Zuko was resisting the urge to do the same. Lu-Ten took notice.
“Many sacrifices have been made on this day. Painful, unforgettable sacrifices. Each face and name lost will be celebrated when we have rebuilt what was lost and broken. I swear this to you all. I swear this to my people. I vow to protect you all from all evils. I swear it on the blood that runs through my veins.” Lu-Ten pressed his hands together and sank to his knees as if begging penance. His voice caught in his throat. “Every son, every daughter, every mother and father will be remembered. Be it Fire Nationer, Omashian or Arakemeti, or-” his eyes flickered up to settle on Sokka and Katara. “Or Water Tribe.”
He really believes what he’s saying, Sokka thought. Does he not remember that he caused all of this? That the blood was on his hands? An absolute nutter. A certified maniac. Veritably off his rocker. How could Lu-Ten offer condolences when it was his actions that had led to the horrors surrounding them? In his mind, however twisted it was, his actions were justified. Not my Nation, not my war.
“Let us go to the Fire Nation palace to officially declare victory and claim the caldera in Fire Lord Lu-Ten’s name,” Tenoch announced. “Only when stability returns will we crown him as the one true Lord of the Fire Nation.The path will be uncertain, but not impassable. Let Lu-Ten’s reign begin with hope and rebirth. Not…” he searched for the words, “not weariness and despair.”
Too late.
“But first,” Tenoch paused, “reunions are long overdue.”
Sokka allowed himself to breathe. Katara clutched his forearm, panting from excitement. Yue appeared just as anxious. At last (finally!) Yaretzi released her and the white haired young woman sprang free, crossing the distance between them in four long strides. Sokka extended his arms.
Yue careened towards him, knocking him back several paces upon the impact of her embrace. She wept as she did so, her words an unintelligible string of noise in between the deep gasps for air. Yue embedded her hands in the fabric of his shirt, as if she was trying to meld into his skin.The all-too-familiar coppery scent of blood had settled on her clothes. Long gone was the even-tempered, decorous Northerner that had arrived at the shores of the South Pole years ago. That had been torn out of her, balled up and ground into dust. Sokka was not sure who the young woman was clinging to him now. It occurred to him that maybe Yue felt the same. He had been younger, immature, so assured of his position in the world. He had both legs back then.
Katara wedged herself between them, burying her tear-streaked face into Yue’s chest. “I’m sorry, Yue, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!”
The girls had last seen each other in the aftermath of his father’s murder. And Sokka had last seen them at the table at breakfast, surrounded by their people and kin. Even in the presence of Zhao and his firebenders, Sokka had felt secure. Sokka had felt safe. It was the last moments before the world had gone to shit. He swallowed the lump in his throat and separated from his sister and Yue.
Lu-Ten had recomposed himself, or at least attempted to as much as his injuries would allow. Sokka listened keenly as the firebender motioned to Yaretzi who (reluctantly, if Sokka was to judge) moved closer. Lu-Ten pointed at Izara. “Fly ahead. Secure the palace with Izara,” Sokka heard him say, “you shall meet no opposition. I will remain here.” He pressed his forehead against his wife’s and the smaller woman closed her eyes.
Sokka strained to listen.
“I must bring one of your cousins as well, no?” Yaretzi said quietly.
The yet-to-recognized Fire Lord scowled. “No. Azula and Zuko will stay here.” His amber eyes settled on the siblings.
His reasoning was clear, Sokka thought. Lu-Ten would keep his cousins under close watch. Keep your friends close and your cousins closer I guess. Ozai’s death cleared the path for a new Fire Lord, and it was well-known that the Fire Nation would sooner accept Zuko or Azula as their new sovereign. No one could crown them in his absence. Azula stared back in a silent challenge. Zuko only had eyes for Yue, fidgeting to approach her. Lu-Ten watched them even as Yaretzi obeyed his order, hesitantly drifting toward her waiting dragon. Sensing Sokka’s eyes upon him, he met the Tribesman’s gaze.
Sokka turned once more to survey the aftermath, his heart in his throat and his belly in knots. It was all incomprehensible. He was dimly aware of the sound of Yaretzi’s departure. Too much had happened too quickly. I’m tired, he groaned inwardly. Not as tired as the others, he knew, but weary all the same. The sun had finally set on both the Phoenix King and the caldera. The night would be long. Longer than most. To his left was Lu-Ten and the smoldering city that he now claimed. To his right was Katara and Yue, and Suki and his bloodsworn. The smile he offered Lu-Ten was brittle. “Long live the Fire Lord,” Sokka said. “May his fire shine bright.”
Notes:
Next up is Yue's LAST pov chapter (cries), in which we'll see what's become of the Fire Nation and the royal family. And a proper reunion between her and Zuko. It's in the final swing now, so hopefully I won't delay too long :D
Chapter 69: To the Victors Go the Spoils
Notes:
Yue reflects on the immediate aftermath, and prepares to make a new step in her life.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yue
It was not until the priestess tenderly wiped the blood from Yue’s forehead with the hem of her shirt did Yue truly realize what she had done.
She shivered in spite of the heat. Yue found herself unable to look at anything for too long, her eyes moving about frenetically, always sure to not look at the fallen corpse of the Phoenix King. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. The gazes of the Fire Lord, the Fire Lord’s witch, and their dragon burned into her. The priestess, who did not seem like much of a witch at all, tilted her head. Her presence brought a comfort to Yue that she had not experienced in years, one that was not burdened by the expectation of anything in return, save for her mounting the dragon. Lu-Ten’s on the other hand was an amalgamation of disdain, surprise, and envy. She had been the one to deliver the blow that ended Ozai’s life, having done what Lu-Ten had so desired for his entire life. The Fire Lord’s wife stood as a buffer between them.
The Phoenix King’s nephew's golden eyes were hard and so much like Ozai’s that Yue fought not to look away. “I’m not sure if I should thank you for disposing of my uncle or have you beheaded.”
His wife pressed her forearm against his chest and narrowed her brown eyes. She seemed to relay a silent warning. “You will do neither,” she said, “The Princess Yue’s fate has never been for you to decide.”
The declaration caused something in Yue to tighten and then crack and shatter, spilling forth a wave of relief and anger that she had no name for; it was a sort of confirmation that she had not realized she had been yearning for. My fate has never been for anyone else to decide.
My fate has never been for anyone else to decide.
She lifted her head.
The priestess gestured to the waiting dragon. “Izara will not harm you. We will find Prince Zuko, but first you must trust me.” Her scrutiny swiveled to her husband. “You must trust us.”
Yue tentatively climbed onto the dragon’s back with Lu-Ten’s assistance. When she truly studied him, she felt as though she was staring both Zuko and Ozai in the eye. But where Zuko’s had been bright with warmth and Ozai’s with madness, Lu-Ten’s eyes were both hard and weary. The priestess settled in behind her and the Phoenix King’s nephew was last. The dragoness flapped her wings, the coiled muscles in her hind legs thrusting them skyward. Yue’s stomach twisted and turned. She gulped and swallowed thickly to force the vomit from rising further. Without much thought Yue came to the conclusion that she was not suited for flight. She leaned against the warmth of the she-dragon’s neck, finding that it did not burn as the Fire Lord’s wife had promised. With one more forceful churn of her wings, the magenta colored beast rose high above the Fire Nation palace.
The sun was setting, casting the pagodas into an ominous but lonely sort of darkness. The sun itself was setting over Ozai’s regime and all the destruction he had wrought. The palace grew smaller as they flew away and with each flap of the dragon’s wings the shackles that had bound her for so long broke away.
Yue clung on tightly and dared to look down. The world seemed impossibly small from this height, she thought, but as they went on, dread filled her belly.
Beyond the opulent estates of the highborn, it appeared as though someone had taken a torch and set the city on fire. Such destruction was inconceivable. Scorched buildings rose up like lone survivors amidst rubble and shattered glass scattered about. What happened here? It dawned upon Yue that the world outside had truly moved on without her- and that some horror had befallen the capital while she remained trapped in the palace walls. She was acutely aware of the tension radiating from the Fire Lord and his wife. It was said that he had two dragons, she thought, and there is only one.
Tattered banners flew limply in the wind. Ants in green and ants in red formed clustered colonies in paths strewn with wet debris. Yue’s breath caught in her throat. The war had come and ended on the capital’s doorstep. She spotted bodies, wholly intact when compared to the mutilated corpses of those who had fallen victim to Ozai’s wrath in the final days, littering the streets. The ants were men that yet still lived, their enmity forgotten in the face of devastation. Yue lifted her gaze and looked out to the wharves and sea beyond.
The remnants of several sea vessels were scattered on the horizon. They were little more than heaps of metal floating on the waves. A stark realization fell into place like a key in a rusted lock. The Fire God’s Prophet. By the grace of the spirit-gods the city was still standing. Most of it. She could not truly comprehend what she was seeing- it was unfathomable to see the entire lower half of the city decimated. Some of those fleeing had managed to find shelter on the rooftops, craning their necks as the dragon made her descent to the only open space left undamaged. The large group of men gathered close by.
Yue felt the vibration of the dragon’s roar course through her bones. She landed somewhat awkwardly, perhaps a hundred feet away from the crowd, jerking the three of them forward, and furled her wings. The dragon lowered her left shoulder to allow them to climb down.
Yue crumbled into a heap at the dragon’s feet, her legs having failed her. The priestess made a noise of concern. She had yet to tell Yue her name and Lu-Ten had not disclosed it either. She extended her hand sympathetically and pulled Yue to her feet.
Lu-Ten stepped away from them. He pressed his lips into a hard line as he searched the ruined cityscape. The dying sun framed him. His hair had fallen loose from his topknot during his duel with Ozai.
His wife laid a hand on the dragon’s neck. “I know you wish to find Prince Zuko,” she said, “and the Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe.” When Yue met her gaze she flinched from the intensity that emanated from the woman’s countenance. “When the Phoenix King’s ship…was detonated, it was the Avatar Katara who managed to save us all. The spirit-gods chose wisely when they chose her to become the Avatar.” She pointed at the shoreline. “She froze the ship and suppressed the tidal wave before it could wash the caldera away. It was only after she began to extinguish the flames did Lu-Ten and I venture to the palace to face his uncle.”
Yue furrowed her brow. “But I was always told that your faction commanded two dragons…”
The fire in her eyes was not directed at Yue, but rather at her husband’s back. “Izon was lost to us in the battle,” she responded through gritted teeth. “The Great Mother Citlali willed that he returned to her, as all of her children must.” Yue did not miss the way her voice sharpened.
“Yaretzi.”
Lu-Ten rotated on his heel to face the two women once more. The woman (Yaretzi) lifted her chin. “His death was not to be in vain, no?” It dawned on Yue that it was a challenge. She wondered what had transpired between the two of them to make the priestess turn so frigid. It was said that Yaretzi was unfailingly devoted to Lu-Ten, her loyalty running so deep that she would burn men alive for him.
Yue considered herself to be reasonably intelligent, and the years trapped amongst the Fire Nationers had made her exceedingly perceptive. Her time at Ozai’s side had made her even more so- her keen eye spotted every discordant detail from the twitching of an eye to the near-imperceptible tightening of a fist. The epiphany struck her all at once. The Fire God’s Prophet had exploded, nearly overtaking the entire city and all those living within. Lu-Ten’s dragon had made it to the caldera before perishing in what was presumably a horrific death. It is nigh impossible to kill a dragon… Yue’s eyes widened. Yaretzi’s rigid posture was answer enough. Lu-Ten, perhaps unintentionally, had led the male dragon to its demise. Lu-Ten, unquestionably intentionally, had used dragonfire as a catalyst for the explosion. Willingly and gleefully determined to earn his throne even if it meant ruling amongst bones and ash.
He is the type of man who would see the world burn out of sheer spite.
The man standing before her, the one upon whom the Order of the White Lotus had placed their faith, was just as mad as his uncle.
“Where’s Zuko? And Katara and Sokka?” Yue laid her hand on Yaretzi’s forearm.
“I last saw the Avatar with her airbending companion. As for the chief and Prince Zuko, I am not sure.” The older woman shook her head. Absently Yue considered that Yaretzi was not much older than her at all. She was at most two years her senior, yet she was a powerful firebending priestess, a wife, and a mother. She was shorter than Yue, but if her strong arms were any indication then she was more than capable of defending herself. Perhaps that was the way of the indigenous firebenders, that it was their custom for their women to be as strong as the men. Yaretzi narrowed her eyes and scanned the darkening skyline. She pointed to a large dark silhouette. “There. The Avatar’s Air Nomad friend and her flying bison.”
Yue felt her heart seize. Katara. Yue had last seen her being herded onto the second ship after the attack, her blue eyes smoldering with grief and hatred. But in the days and weeks before, she had known Katara to be overzealously optimistic and generous, content to play with her dogs and provide for the welfare of the children in the nearby orphanage. They had spent their last morning together braiding each other’s hair and whispering in the secret language of girls. If only I had known what was to come next…if only I could have done something. Countless nights Yue had sat at the windowsill and gazed up at unfamiliar stars, questioning whether the Moon Spirit had blessed or cursed her when she was born. It all arrived to the same conclusion:
The world is not kind.
Yue craned her neck to scan the unfamiliar faces in the crowd- Fire Nationer and earthbender alike, but none that she recognized.
Sensing her urgency, Yaretzi pointed. This time at the sea of people surrounding them. “What do you see, Princess?”
Black, green, red, and blue.
Yue felt her knees go weak. Four figures, three men and one undeniable woman, standing out amongst the others. All of them young. “Sokka…” she whispered, “Katara…” They’re here. They came for me. Frantically she searched for another face. A pale one this time, with warm golden eyes, and a scar shaped like a hand. She balanced on her toes and craned her neck. I have to find Zuko!
She spotted Azula first, whose proud aura seemed to force others to maintain their distance. Yue had last seen her dueling with her father, setting the support beams of the temple on fire as she fled with the others. Abandoning Yue. She swallowed the bitterness that had settled on her tongue. The lithe princess stared back. Yue’s gaze slid to the left of Azula, settling on the young man who stood tall but wary, shifting from one foot to the other. He was just as haggard as the rest, dusted with soot and grit. Zuko! Their eyes met and Yue felt as though she had stepped into a tunnel, and at the mouth of the cavern was the first glimpse of the morning sun.
The Fire Lord’s dragon trilled.
It was only when Yaretzi touched her freshly scarred forearm that Yue realized she had missed what must have been a crucial exchange. Lu-Ten watched her expectantly. To his left was Azula, having crossed the space between her and her cousin. Yue’s ears rang from the roar of Lu-Ten’s name, welcoming as the true Fire Lord, but their triumph was hollow and sour. Yue had suffered enough to recognize the mummery unfolding. Lu-Ten’s victory was validated only by Azula and Zuko’s renunciation- and his dragon. The gates of the city had not been thrown open for him, and so he burned them down.
Lu-Ten’s hand was outstretched in her direction, beckoning her to his side. Yue (obediently, always obedient, always graceful) went to stand at his shoulder. Lu-Ten’s smile was genuine but fractured; like the rest of him, she supposed. There was blood still under her fingernails, she thought absently, from where Ozai’s lifeblood had run down her arm and stained her skin red when she yanked the blade free. Even in death he tainted her.
Lu-Ten drew her closer. “You did not kill my uncle,” his lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. His voice was dangerously soft. “You would not want your kin to think lowly of you, would you? Nor for Zuko to look at you differently? What might he think then, knowing his precious little wife drove a dagger into his father’s heart when he could never do the same?” His teeth flashed in an imitation of a fraternal grin before shifting his attention to the gathering of soldiers and civilians.
Yue paused. Katara and Sokka would celebrate her killing of Ozai. But Zuko…What if he did look at her differently? What if he did not look at her with pride, like she knew Katara and Sokka would, but rather disdain? Yue felt the air constrict in her throat.
The young firebender sank to his knees as he addressed his nation. “I mourn this day,” he said, “and I grieve for every life lost.” His shoulders rattled. He was no mummer, Yue thought, nor was his display a mockery. There was no golden façade, not like Ursa’s. But Yaretzi’s clenched jaw and Azula’s glower made it clear that the man’s delusion had soured many a tongue. It did not bode well for his reign to be so disliked. Ozai had begun his rule by stepping over his dead brother’s corpse. Lu-Ten would begin his own by walking over dead children.
An older man who bore a resemblance to Yaretzi raised his voice. A cluster of elders of all nations crowded around him. “Night has begun to fall. There is much work to be done during the night, and for many days to follow. Rescue and recovery efforts will continue. Lord Dejen and Lady Ishragha will oversee the operations.” He carried the same accent as Yaretzi, and Yue heard hints of it in Lu-Ten’s words. They were the indigenous sun and dragon worshippers, of whom Yue knew very little, but whose firebending differed from those of the modern Fire Nation. “We shall press onward to claim the palace at first light.” His face shifted into something warmer, more paternalistic, and he opened his hands. “The night will be long, and sad, but let us take this moment to unite with our kin and countrymen. If just for a little while.”
Yaretzi nudged Yue by placing her warm hand in the small of her back. “Go, Princess. I think you have waited long enough.”
She had. She had waited far too long.
Yue took a tentative step and hesitated. But she had not endured years of torture to falter now. She could feel them waiting for her with anticipation, none of them daring to move. Her blood ran hot and her feet longed to run. Except this time she was not running from fear, nor from danger. Sokka was the first to open his arms, welcoming her in- at last, at last, at last.
“Sokka,” she whispered and then louder, “Sokka!” She flew past Yaretzi and Lu-Ten, and all the others, carried by the wave of exhilaration that fueled her steps, and launched herself into Sokka’s arms.
They crashed into each other, arms wrapped around each other until they were entwined. Yue pressed her head into his chest, unable to stop the stream of tears that fell down her cheeks. It had been years since she’d seen him last. He was taller, leaner, and his eyes, like Lu-Ten’s, had the haunted darkness of a man who had seen war. His hair was longer also, nearly to his shoulders. She dared not look at his leg, at the way he leaned on his prosthetic. “Yue,” he said breathlessly, clearly noting her aversion to looking down. “Yue…you’re alive.”
She laughed through her tears. “And you are, too!” She pressed her face into his chest, unable to stop the sobs that wracked her body. “And Katara!”
Katara was the Avatar.
As if summoned, the Avatar flung her arms around Yue and her brother, stumbling over her own two feet. She repeated Yue’s name in between incredulous giggles. Like Sokka, she was taller now, more womanly, and her hair tumbled down to her waist. Her features had lost the softness of privilege and youth. “Yue!” She gripped Yue’s hands, vibrating with excitement. “Yue!” The younger Tribeswoman cupped Yue’s cheeks, running her thumbs across her white eyebrows. “There’s so much to tell you…” Katara deflated and grief shadowed her face. “I-I-…” Her bottom lip quivered and she began to cry. “I left you.”
Yue shushed her. “No, Katara, you didn’t. You didn’t. There was nothing you could have done.” If it was by the will of the spirit-gods, then it would not be unfair to say that they were cruel to some and kinder to others.
How differently would it have gone for them both? Could she have truly endured wandering the Earth Kingdoms for years? Or would they have made it home earlier and reunited before Sokka began his campaign? He would have never been disfigured. Katara perhaps never would have discovered she was the Avatar. Yue never would’ve touched Fire Nation soil. She never would’ve have suffered until the mental and physical torture of the Phoenix King and Queen.
She never would have met Zuko.
He stood some feet away, rubbing the back of his neck and sheepishly peering up through his eyelashes. Yue separated herself from Sokka and Katara, who knowingly stepped aside. There would be more time, she knew, when dawn finally came. He was as golden and radiant as he had always been, burning as calmly as a hearth fire. He raised his head and Yue offered a shy smile.
“Zuko,” she said breathlessly. Though she had seen him only hours before, albeit briefly and in the midst of chaos, the sight of him brought her joy and relief all the same.
It was he who moved first. Yue closed the distance between them. They lingered. The Fire Nation’s staunch decorum disapproved of public displays of emotion and outbursts. Yue could sense the curious eyes of those around them- Sokka and Katara, Lu-Ten and Yaretzi, and Azula. Especially Azula. Zuko appeared just as strained as she. Let me have this, Yue thought. Haven’t I suffered enough? Zuko extended his hand. Yue grasped it as he pulled her closer, wordlessly pressing his face into her white hair and inhaling her scent. Hot tears streamed down Yue’s cheeks. She paid little notice to the Fire Lord nor his dragon, nor the smoldering remnants of the Fire Nation capital, illuminated by the full moon. It had never shone so bright.
——
Upon their return to the ruined temple of the palace, Yue noted that someone had the grace to move Ozai’s body onto a makeshift pallet, although his corpse was sprawled haphazardly as if he had been thrown unceremoniously upon it. If Yaretzi’s expression was any indication, then he had been.The priestess was waiting for them with the magenta dragon looming over her. Her shoulders were tense. Cowering just behind her were the few servants and guardsmen that remained. They did not seem stricken with fear, but rather quiet resignation. The dragonlord was already preferable to the tyrant they had suffered under for years.
In any other circumstance, Yue would have thought it rather imprudent to stake claim to a guarded palace in the middle of the night. Yet again, few armies had ever approached with so many powerful forces. Including the Avatar. Katara’s hand remained entwined in her own. On her other side limped Sokka, supported by his bloodsworn warriors and an Earth Kingdom woman who looked at him warmly. Behind them was a cluster of young adults that Yue assumed were the companions they had gathered over the years. Amongst their number was a roguish young man who gazed at Katara as if she had hung the moon and stars, and a young earthbender who possessed uncanny accuracy in spite of her blindness.
Zuko had been pulled away from her by Lu-Ten’s orders. The dragonlord demanded that his cousins- potential contenders for the throne- remain in his sights. It would amount to little, Yue thought. If Azula wanted to kill her cousin, she would have already done so. They trailed after him with narrowed eyes and clenched jaws.
Lu-Ten strode forward with the pomp of a gorilla-rooster. He extended his arms and turned in a slow circle, relishing in the sight of his ancestral home. Yue wondered if he had envisioned a burning island when he imagined his glorious return. The smile he bore was a boyish one. Yue watched him as his advisors, all members of the Order of the White Lotus from all nations, clustered around him and his kin. The young indigenous firebender, whom Yue assumed to be Yaretzi’s brother, walked at his side. He, like his sister, did not seem so enthralled. As they drew closer, the palace occupants knelt wordlessly, pressing their foreheads to the ground in surrender.
Yue caught sight of Maya. She cradled a bundle of red cloth to her chest, rocking on her heels and making cooing noises. The tribal princess halted. There’s no infant here…besides… She felt a knot form in her belly.
‘May the spirit-gods be with you, child. I am sorry.’
‘Sorry for what?’
‘I am sorry.’
After that she had seen no more of Tzumoro, nor of his wife and children. She had assumed, perhaps childishly so, that the nobleman would beg for mercy, or at least plead for his family to be spared. But to a man such as Lord Tzumoro, death was more honorable than defeat. And who was to know Lu-Ten’s true intentions, when he had tried to annihilate the citizens that he now called his people? She could have begged. Tsura and Rokuro were innocent. Zuko and Azula would have sided with her. Katara and Sokka, too. Yaretzi could have swayed him.
Lallo, the priestess’s brother, broke away from the group. He took the sleeping baby into his arms. Maya relinquished him easily, suggesting that Lallo had some familiarity with her and the infant. Yue recalled that he had accompanied Azula and Zuko during the infiltration of the palace grounds. He, amongst the others, were the witnesses to the grim aftermath of the family’s demise. Rokuro mewled at the disturbance before gripping the collar of the Sun Warrior’s shirt, his tiny fingers grasping for warmth. Lallo turned back to Lu-Ten. “The boy’s family is dead. All of them, down to the sister. Ask them all. The father fell on his sword. If anyone would have opposed you, it would’ve been him.”
“He’s right.” Azula observed what remained of her family’s servants. “Lord Tzumoro was my father’s closest confidant.” Yue found it interesting that the young woman was now pleading for a baby’s life when she had so readily agreed to conspire for the murder of Lu-Ten’s unborn child. But that was when she was her father’s daughter, before he had turned on her just as he had shunned Zuko.
Lu-Ten looked first at his brother-by-law holding the infant, then at Azula and his advisors, and then finally at his wife. “I will discuss the matter of the boy at another time. For now I will surrender him to Lallo’s care. Zuko, guide us.”
Zuko cast a lingering glance back at her as he moved to the forefront, assuming his place at his cousin’s side. The Fire Nation’s Golden Prince led Lu-Ten over the broken glass and splintered wood, across the courtyard that had been singed black from his duel with Ozai. He purposefully averted his eyes from his father’s body. Two of the household servants began to crowd around the pallet, throwing a white sheet over the fallen Phoenix King. “What are we going to do with him?” Yue heard him ask.
Lu-Ten threw a nonchalant glance over his shoulder. “Burn it.”
All of them were silent. Yue hesitated and stiffened involuntarily. I don’t want to. It was too soon. She was too dirty. She was still coated in blood, the burn on her arm still ached even though Yaretzi had healed it, she was too tired, she did not want to. Katara rubbed soothing circles on the inside of her wrist. Bear just a bit more, Yue said to herself, and then it will be over. The sun had risen and fallen. She had killed a king. She just wanted to bathe. She just wanted to rest.
The corridors of the palace were hauntingly quiet, as they had been for the days and weeks before. Yet there also seemed to be a sense of relief, tentative though it might be. Who was to say what was to come in the next days? Weeks? Months? Lu-Ten ran his fingers along the wall and then rubbed them together, as if trying to resurrect a buried memory of the place in which he had been born. It was pitiful, she thought. The man had burnt a path to a throne that he had never seen. He had caused countless deaths, including that of his own dragon, all for a crown to which he felt entitled. She prayed that he would be a better man than Ozai.
The lacquered doors of the audience chamber had been left ajar. They creaked as Lu-Ten pushed his way inside breathlessly. Though Yue could not see his eyes, she knew that they gleamed with a fire she would find dreadfully familiar. It was evident in the way that a shadow fell upon the countenance of both Azula and Yaretzi. Yue held her tongue as Lu-Ten strode across the assembly room, his arms outstretched, a gleeful laughter erupting from his throat. It was dark. The only light shone from the open doors.
He made his way to the obsidian dais. The seat had known no other man in the last two decades. Only the Phoenix King. Lu-Ten paused in front of it, suddenly apprehensive. He laid a hand on Zuko’s shoulder before turning back to his followers. Lu-Ten beckoned to Azula and the Fire Nation Princess approached, though she walked slowly, her shoulders squared and chin raised. “Look at us! We are the next generation of Sozin’s descendants. The ones who will rebuild what my treacherous uncle had broken.” His teeth flashed in a smile that did not quite meet his eyes. “There shall be no challenge to the glorious restoration of our House. We will be dragons once more.”
No one will challenge you, Yue scoffed bitterly.
“Tenoch.” Lu-Ten gestured to the Sun Warrior. “My cousins will escort you, the Avatar, the Chief, and all of their comrades to a sanctum in which they can rest. The night has been long and when the morning comes, we must begin to move forward and prepare for the times to come. We must plan my coronation, but I will not accept the crown until Prince Sozin has joined us.” Lu-Ten raised a staying hand. “Princess Yue. I will not keep you long from your kin, but I believe the two of us must have a conversation.” He gestured towards the dais, having lit the sconces with a sharp flick of his wrist.
He was interrupted by an outraged shout. Katara surged forward, pushing her way through the others. “No,” she snapped, “Yue stays with us.” The Avatar bared her teeth in an animalistic snarl, epitomizing the fierce nature of her family’s sigil. “You can’t take her away from us when we haven’t had the chance to see her. She’s our family. And this is your fault.” She brusquely shrugged Yue’s hand away, turning to glare at the other dark haired young man who approached her. He shrank away. Her cheeks reddened with anger and she pointed an accusatory finger at Lu-Ten. “Especially not after what you did!”
All eyes watched the Avatar and the dragonlord anxiously. Lu-Ten did not flinch. Lallo, having passed Rokuro to Suki, attempted to intervene only to be halted by Katara’s hot glare.
Yue tilted her head. “No, Katara. If the Fire Lord requires my presence, then I shan’t keep him waiting.” Her blood ran hot in her veins. Even now she could not be autonomous. Even now she was forced to abide by a man’s ruling. Fair enough. She had survived one king, she would survive another.
“Lu-Ten, please.” Yaretzi spoke up for the first time. “The Princess has endured enough. You should let her rest, yes? I am sure that she desires a bath, and silence, and to share a true reunion with her family.” The Fire Lord’s witch looked pleadingly at her husband. “Surely it can wait.”
The Fire Lord remained recalcitrant.” I would speak to the Princess alone,” he repeated. “Go with Lallo, Yaretzi.”
Yaretzi’s nostrils flared before her shoulders dropped. She joined her brother, taking the sleeping baby against her chest with a forlorn smile. She missed her own son, Yue knew. Though she scarcely knew the young woman, she could imagine that she, too, had sacrificed much and more. “Prince Zuko,” she called out, “you might escort us to the nursery? This little one deserves a quiet space.” Her fingertip brushed over Rokuro’s nose. “He deserves a gentle touch after what he has experienced.”
They begrudgingly, wearily, exited the audience chamber. Yue held her hands at her sides. She did not fidget. Lu-Ten swept his hand, inviting her to sit on the bottom step of the throne. Yue moved slowly, watching him from the corner of her eye and took a seat. To her surprise, he did the same.
Yue had grown accustomed to long, weighted silences. Such was the way of politicking. An indecipherable countenance and well-timed silence would make weaker-willed men balk and stammer. Lu-Ten studied her. He seemed to take note of every aspect, from her disheveled hair and bloodied lip, and lastly at the hand-shaped burn on her forearm. He inhaled.
“I…am sorry that my uncle hurt you.” Lu-Ten rubbed the back of his neck in a way that reminded Yue of Zuko.
Before she could respond, he barreled on. “In more ways than one. It is not the Sun People’s custom to tolerate rape-” he paused when she winced. “And no man of honor would do such a thing. It is my understanding that you were not the first. But fortunately you are the last. My aunt and uncle were cravens and thieves. Ozai may have been the most powerful man in the world, but at his core he was a weak, pathetic man who preyed on and harmed those he considered beneath him.” In the dim light, Lu-Ten resembled Ozai, like Zuko. His knuckles were white from fisting the fabric of his pants. “I was not being cruel by requesting this time away from your kin. But I ask you this, and I wish that you tell it true.” Lu-Ten shifted to face her fully, pulling his legs into the lotus position. “I would have your marriage to my cousin annulled. If that is what you wish. If your desires do not align with his then I will not hold you here against your will.”
For a long moment Yue could not find the words. He would set her free. He was giving her the chance to go home, back to her mother and father and brother. And yet, part of her stalled in responding. “I…Zuko and I have built a rapport. Our union was not an organic one. It was organized by the Phoenix Queen to bind me and my Tribe to the Fire Nation. Zuko defied his father to protect my honor. He is a loyal, dutiful man. But above all, he is my friend.” Lu-Ten watched her expectantly. “If you mean to say that our marriage would give Zuko leverage against you, then rest assured that I am no threat to you.”
Lu-Ten let out a deriding scoff as he rose to his feet. “I had no fear of that.” He extended his hand and Yue took it as she stood. He, like Zuko, was taller than her. “Very well. Then we shall let things remain as they are.” Lu-Ten patted her shoulder and for the first time he seemed to smile genuinely. “I hear you have a dog. I would like to see it. Now go take a bath…cousin.”
Yue turned on her heel and she could feel the man watching her as she left.
——-
“Tui!”
Yue giggled as her loyal pet sprang at her, nearly throwing her off kilter with her paws in the middle of Yue’s chest. Tui wagged her tail furiously. She flopped onto her back and wriggled. Yue obliged and scratched her belly. “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting,” she cooed, “but you’re a good girl. I didn’t want to return to you smelling of…” Yue broke off. It didn’t matter. Her hair was still damp from her bath and the scent of lemon water still lingered on her skin. She scrubbed until her skin was pink and sore, until Katara- who somehow over their time apart had become as clingy as a spidermouse- pulled the rag from her hands.
While Katara massaged her scalp, she had regaled Yue with her (mis)adventures over the years, rambling on about a bounty hunter and a bloodbending witch. She spoke of the humid kingdom of Banka-Kadi, from which her rugged boyfriend hailed. Yue was certain that Sokka was one day away from an aneurysm. Katara told her of nuns from the Eastern Air Temple and her dear friend Tsephel, who was as insufferably quick-tongued as Sokka. She giggled at the mention of Rojhan, the curt young firebender who quarreled with Tsephel at every possible opportunity. ‘I can’t wait for them to just get over themselves. Imagine, just hours on end of bickering.’ She had grinned broadly and then pulled a face. ‘But I convinced her to finally just kiss him once this is all over. Just hopefully they do it privately.’
Yue chortled. Undignified and far from ladylike, but she did not care.
She would rejoin the others in time, when the dawn came. There would be time for more stories, for more hugs and tears, for more planning. But for now, she decided, the rest of the night would be her own.
Tui rolled onto her feet, winding through Yue’s legs. She took three steps and then looked back at her mistress, tail wagging slowly. Tui chuffed and Yue put her hands on her hips. She had long since learned the subtle communication of her pet. “What do you want?”
Once more the white dog circled around her, nudging her wet nose against the back of Yue’s knees. Yue stumbled and laughed, allowing Tui to guide her into the main bedroom of her apartments. It was how she left it, in a disarray while she had hurriedly fled. Tui bounded forward and yipped. Her nose pointed to the corner of the room, where the desk was positioned under Zuko’s maps and dual swords. But the chair had been pulled away from the table, and the young man seated upon it was thrumming his fingers nervously. As Tui rushed to him, he scratched her affectionately between her ears. Zuko looked up. “Hi, Yue.”
He stood just in time to catch her, sweeping her up into his arms as she flung herself at him. His hands were warm against her waist. She felt him relax against her, the way the tension sapped from him. He set her down, his calloused hands on either side of her face, studying her as if he was trying to memorize every one of her features. Zuko sniffed. “You don’t smell like lavender this time. Or roses.”
“No,” she giggled, “I figured it was time for a change. Don’t you agree?” Yue suddenly felt as giddy as a young girl. She rocked back on her heels with her hands clasped behind her back.
“I like when you wear your hair down like that. It suits you more than a topknot.” He had also bathed and reassembled his hair, which was bound by a simple red tie. It did not hide his scar, which he now seemed to display with pride. Zuko took her hand and turned her arm one way and then another. His elation died. “I couldn’t stop him from hurting you again.”
Katara had done her best to complete the healing process that Yaretzi had started, but she regrettably could not remove the scarring. It would remain on her forever as a perpetual reminder of Ozai’s cruelty, and Yue would always suffer the memory of his touch. She would learn to bear it with pride, one day. Perhaps not today, not tomorrow, but she knew the day would come.
“No,” Yue replied. “But it doesn’t matter.”
Zuko blinked rapidly. A defiant tear broke free. “Now you’re marked by him, like me.”
Yue brushed his cheek with her thumb, swiping the teardrop away. “Does that bother you?”
For several long heartbeats he did not speak, and Yue wondered if she had said the wrong thing. “What did Lu-Ten say to you when you were alone with him?”
The princess took a half-step back. She weighed her response. “He asked if I wanted our marriage annulled. That he would grant a dispensation since we were married under your god Agni. I have also learned that he quite likes dogs.”
Zuko’s remaining eyebrow twitched upwards. “I never would’ve guessed.” He frowned. “I guess that means you’ll be leaving for the North Pole soon.”
It was her turn to furrow her brows. “Who said I wanted to leave?”
Zuko kissed her.
Yue slipped her arms around his shoulders. She smiled against his lips and deepened the kiss, letting out a shout as they stumbled over Tui. Yue waved her hand. “Tui, out!” The polar dog grumbled in protest at the command, lashing her tail and let out an offended whine. “Go find Azula.” The firebending princess would appreciate the dog’s company more than she would ever admit. They had reconciled somewhat. Yue had even seen Azula inconspicuously toss a piece of food onto the floor. Yue clumsily pushed the door closed as Tui departed. Zuko pressed her up against it. She lifted one leg and draped it over his hip. In one smooth motion he lifted her until both legs were around his waist, supporting her by holding the back of her thighs.
They spun in an exhilarated circle. Zuko set her down. He wordlessly begged permission. Yue breathlessly nodded.
Zuko needed no further confirmation. Quickly, hungrily yet still so honorable and so chivalrous, he pulled on the shoulders of her dress until it pooled at her feet. For a moment he studied her, the path of his gaze dragging from her face to her throat, lower and lower still, until his eyes darkened in a way that made Yue shudder in anticipation. She flushed.
“There is something wrong here,” she teased as she waggled her finger. “I should not be the only one without clothes.”
The Fire Nation Prince shrugged out of his tunic hastily. He fumbled with the buttons before grunting in frustration, yanking it over his head, throwing it with reckless abandon somewhere in the corner of the room and turning back to her. “Lay down,” he ordered with a growl and then blushed. “If you want.”
Yue giggled.
Zuko climbed onto the bed after her, staring at her keenly. Yue felt her cheeks redden as he dragged his fingers down the length of her body, teeth glinting in a way that was both calculating and adoring. “Zuko, what are you doing? What are you-”
Zuko showed her exactly what he was doing. Her fingers raked through his hair when he looked up at her mischievously, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her from squirming away. She gasped each time his tongue ran long stripes over the most sensitive parts of her and nipped at the soft flesh on the inside of her thighs until she was rolling her hips in a desperate attempt to chase release. Zuko gave it to her.
Yue was still dizzy when he climbed over her and was inside of her with one sharp snap of his hips, just as desperate as she.
Her hands gripped his and she couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath that slipped past her lips nor the way her teeth sank into his shoulder. Zuko paused, his hands braced against the back of her knees, his eyes never leaving hers.. He smirked and the moan Yue let out would make even the most experienced courtesan blush. “I missed you,” he rasped, kissing the insole of her foot where it perched on his shoulder, “more than I could ever explain.” His hold on her legs loosened until they were flush against each other and Yue’s legs were wrapped around his waist. She drew him closer to her, relishing in the warmth that radiated from his bare skin. His movements were teasingly slow, long dragging thrusts that left her begging for more. He dropped his head and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Yue stroked his hair and kissed his scar. She had never felt so warm.
“Did you miss me? Or did you miss this?” Yue flipped them, giving a teasing smile as Zuko’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. She centered her hands on his chest, biting her lip as his calloused hands caressed every part of her as reverently as the first time.
The prince, her friend, her husband grinned boyishly. “You, of course. Maybe. Well…why not both? But I can’t have this without having you so-”
“Zuko,” Yue sighed, “shut up.”
As Zuko made love to her, Yue decided that he could have her any way he wanted. It didn’t matter, as long as it was him. He leaned down and kissed her, and when Yue looked in his eyes she saw an emotion she could not quite describe.
Not love.
But perhaps that would come.
When they finished, the two of them were light-headed and damp with sweat. Yue curled against Zuko, relishing in the way his arms encircled her and drew her close, the way his fingertips traced meaningless patterns on her spine, the way he watched her protectively as she nodded off to sleep.
She woke before he did, in the gray hour before sunrise, and ran her fingernail along the contours of his muscular form. He had gotten broader in their time apart. Not that she would complain. He had also sprouted the beginnings of a beard that Yue wasn’t sure if she liked yet. Zuko stirred with a halfhearted protest, feebly swatting at her hand. Yue pressed her palm against his chest and leaned over to lay a gossamer kiss on his cheek. Zuko’s eyes snapped open. He hummed and drew her closer, turning them until Yue was flat against his chest. She pressed her ear against his heart. He mumbled a greeting.
Yue waved her hand frivolously. “Yes, yes, rise and shine. Salutations and Agni’s blessings.” She leaned up on one elbow. “Where did you learn how to do that?”
Zuko flushed a brilliant, sheepish red. “I read it in a book,” he answered.
Yue threw her head back in laughter. “Oh, how scandalous! The honorable Prince Zuko performing such an obscene act. My quaint Water Tribe heart quivers.”
“Your heart is not the only thing that-” Yue shushed him and her husband chuckled. Zuko pushed her hand away. “I was going to say the leaves quiver in the wind. Maybe you’re the scandalous one.” He sobered. “We have to get up soon.”
“Not yet,” Yue argued. “The world can wait.”
They finally emerged to be greeted by an appalled Lallo. “Greetings, felicitations, and commendations to you both.” The Sun Warrior looked pointedly at Zuko. “Your cousin requested that you join us in the dining hall for a light breakfast. But maybe you might be more deserving of a full plate, Prince Zuko.” His top lip twitched. “Oh how I adore the sight of young love. But I don’t enjoy the sound of it. Such is the bliss of conjugal life. Not that I would know. Not yet at least.” Lallo allowed them to follow him. “I’m still learning my way around this place. You should consider yourself lucky that Azula didn’t come to fetch you. She was too preoccupied with your dog. And Yaretzi’s dragon.” He lifted a finger as Yue opened her mouth in protest. “She’s not feeding her to Izara, rest assured! You Fire Nationers have such a queer fascination with dragons. We Sun People see them almost every day.”
Lu-Ten, Yaretzi, Sokka, and Katara were waiting for them. On the other side of the table was Tsephel and Jet, along with Suki and Toph. Yue did not miss the way that Yaretzi leaned away from Lu-Ten. Yaretzi had a look that Yue had once seen on Ursa, a sort of detachment, a vacant expression that suggested she was somewhere else. Then she blinked and it was gone.
The Fire Lord eyed them curiously before sharing a knowing smirk with Lallo. “Nice of you to join us.”
Toph’s nose wrinkled. “About time. I have enhanced hearing, just so you know. I don’t know what you guys were doing but I know I was too young to hear it. Can you please try not to disturb my sleep?!”
Zuko pulled out the chair on Lu-Ten’s left and then the one on the right. After Yue was seated, he took his place beside his cousin. “Sorry, Toph. I’ll try. Is Azula not coming?”
“No,” Lu-Ten answered. “She chose to start preparations for the temple’s restoration with Tenoch and Dejen.” His tone left no room for questioning. “It’s my hope that it will be ready in time for my coronation ceremony.”
His ceremony.
Katara and Sokka shared a look.
“The others will arrive within the next week now that they have been given the all-clear. Yaretzi will fly back on Izara to escort them.” Lu-Ten tapped the edge of his bowl incessantly. “I would fly back on Izon but-”
“But he is dead.” Yaretzi’s acidic interjection caused them all to flinch. Her onyx eyes were sharp as flint, accusatory and heartbroken. “He is dead,” she repeated. Without warning she stood. “If I may be excused, Your Grace?”
A myriad of emotions crossed Lu-Ten’s countenance in rapid succession. It settled on dejection. Lallo rose before he could react and took off after his sister, the sound of his chair clattering to the floor echoing in his wake. “I did what had to be done,” Lu-Ten whispered mostly to himself. Yue was not sure if he was trying to convince himself or the others.
Zuko had relayed the truth of what had transpired after he had been stolen away by his mother’s allies. It was all true, he swore. Yaretzi had resurrected Lu-Ten, and that the priestess herself had whispered that perhaps she had made a terrible error. It must be a terrible feeling, Yue thought, to love a man whose love for her was overridden by lust for a crown. Lu-Ten, as if sensing their pity, stood abruptly. He was a man prone to lashing out, Yue had been told, who could only be restrained by his beloved wife. He loomed over them, righted the chair, and then exited wordlessly in pursuit of the dragon-charmer.
Sokka broke the tense silence. “Well I’ve been in more awkward situations than this. Everyone except for Yue and Zuko got a good night’s sleep, right?”
Jet stretched his arms. “It’s the first time I’m not waking up in fear for my life.” He looked longingly at Katara. “Could’ve been better.”
Sokka scowled. “No it could not.”
The good humor was short-lived. The brief night of respite was only to be followed by grueling hours of rebuilding the Fire Nation from within. There also remained the matter of crafting Lu-Ten’s image as a man of honor and valor, not brutality as his uncle’s had been. It was the task of the others. It became evident that their importance superseded her own. Naturally so. In the eyes of the Fire Nation, she had been their gleaming jewel, but Lu-Ten was the burning star. Katara was the world’s great balancer. And Sokka now counted amongst one of the most powerful men of all nations. Yue, kingslayer though she was, simply did not compare.
It felt nice to be unseen.
Zuko was drawn away from her, summoned by Lord Dejen to join Azula. As were the others, albeit with palpable reluctance. Their duties called them, she knew. It left her with Tsephel and Toph. Yue had yet to interact with them alone. None of them really, but she imagined it would come in the next days.
She and the airbender sat across from each other. The earthbender smirked. “I think your hair looks cool!”
Yue smiled. “Thank you, even though it was not quite my choice to-” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Toph cackled.
Tsephel let out an exasperated harrumph. “She gets all of us at least once. She told me my laces were untied. I wasn’t wearing anything with laces. A downright ass, if you ask me, but at least she has the benefit of being young and somewhat adorable.” The Air Nomad ignored Toph’s indignant outcry. “Unlike that creature that Katara picked up like a stray dog.” Her brown skin turned as red as plum.
“She means Rojhan. Her heart sped up when she mentioned him, which means she’s lying.” It was Toph’s turn to ridicule her. “I might be an ass, but at least I’m not hopelessly in love.” With uncanny speed she evaded Tsephel’s swat at her head.
Yue noted that Tsephel did not deny the allegation. She looked down at her plate, pushing a mango slice one way and then the other. “I haven’t seen him. There’s been no time. Everything has happened so,” her voice quavered and when she raised her head, Yue saw that her gray eyes were as turbulent as storm clouds. “We never should’ve come this far. I didn’t…I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want to see this!” Her nails dug crescent moons into her palms. “All for that-that-that vulgarian.” Tsephel hissed through her teeth. “He kills so indiscriminately that he led his own dragon to die. We all know that he didn’t really kill Ozai. You did.”
The Tribeswoman went rigid.
Tsephel continued. “He would rather take the name Kinslayer than allow you to be a Kingslayer. A worse crime in the eyes of the gods, but a better one for his public image. How honorable.”
Toph nodded with a sagacity that extended beyond her years. “You don’t have to be blind to see it. The Arakemeti First Spears and the Omashian generals are just holding their breath and biding their time.” For what, she did not say. “I hear their whispers.”
He is the type of man who would see the world burn out of sheer spite.
Much and more was said under the cover of darkness, Yue knew. Conspiracies and half-truths, confessions and promises. What could he have promised Azula to make her so muted and pliable? She was not one to accept orders from someone she did not respect, and Yue was certain that she only did so begrudgingly. And she would not relinquish her comforts and title of Princess of the Fire Nation. Mayhaps it was the fear of a fire witch’s wrath or a dragon’s fire that gave her pause. Or the incentive of something else more palatable. She left the conversation as it was, and Tsephel and Toph did the same.
Yue did as she had always done: move quietly.
It was a strange feeling. She knew the halls and crannies of the palatial grounds better than any of them, perhaps even more so than Zuko and Azula. While they had been pulled by fates far greater than her own, Yue’s life had been reduced to the caldera. In spite of what she had desired, Yue had crafted the Fire Nation as if it were a mold of her own creation. Tzumoro was right after all. She was the daughter that Ursa had always wanted. She was a Koi and a Phoenix, and now that Zuko had been absorbed into his cousin’s household, she would soon be a Dragon.
There was an order of business that could not wait.
She scurried back to her chambers, mentally drafting a letter to be sent as soon as the messenger hawks and courier service was returned to full capacity. (Soon, she hoped. She ached to write to her family.) Yue sat at the desk, taking note to find Tui as soon as she was finished, and pulled a sheath of paper. Yue knew very little of Lord Tzumoro’s family, aside from the name of his eldest brother and their hometown. It would suffice. ‘Lord Tsuyoshi,’ she wrote.
‘I am regrettably writing to inform you that your brother, Lord Tzumoro, and his family are no longer amongst the living. Tragically they passed away in the confusion of the regime change. All except for your nephew, Rokuro. At the moment he has been placed in the care and custody of the new Fire Lady’s brother, whom I have verified is of great upstanding character. Once we receive your response, I will personally see to it that Rokuro receives what he has inherited from his father. All personal effects and coin that remain to his father’s estate will be jointly held by you and the Crown until he reaches the age of maturity.’ She waited for the ink to dry. Yue knew nothing of Lord Tzumoro’s kin, but she knew that duplicitous opportunists lurked in every family, and an orphaned baby with a large inheritance was a fruit too ripe to ignore. It was the least she could do. I am a Princess of the Fire Nation. I will be the champion of orphaned and vulnerable children. And this one will be my first.
Well, one of the firsts.
Next she addressed Lady Akeri to inquire of the children of the orphanage and facilitate their return. Afterwards she drafted a letter to Lady Maiko’s next eldest son to inform him of his brother and sister-by-law’s murder at the hands of the Phoenix King. She could offer no recompense except for the man’s demise, which was a revenge sweeter than any mango. Yue sealed each missive with care. She moved to the window that overlooked the gardens and took a seat on the windowsill with one leg propped up. The flowers were unfurling to absorb the warmth of the sunlight. While she could not hear nor see the city below, she knew that the rubble would soon be cleared and a true analysis of the damage would begin. Somewhere else, within the vast spread of the fortress, she heard the priestess’s dragon roar. Yue was not well-versed in the language of mythical beasts, but she assumed it was a cry of frustration and mourning. Her mate (presumably) perished just a day before. She thought of Lu-Ten’s exchange with Yaretzi, and she half-mindedly wondered if perhaps dragons felt the emotions of their riders.
The door opened and Yue remained where she sat. With one ear she listened to the fatigued shuffle of boots before the sound stopped just inches away from her. Yue felt Zuko’s hand on her shoulder. She reached up and covered it with her own. She could feel the tension emanating from his skin.
“I’m tired.” Her husband’s voice carried the weight of exhaustion. “I didn’t think…I never would’ve thought-”
Yue hummed. She ignored him- not out of malice nor apathy. There would be time for that, she thought. But not now. Now, just for a moment, she would allow someone else to scheme and machinize and clean up the messes. Yue, for the first time in years, would be content to be no one. With her free hand she pulled free the map of the Fire Nation archipelago that she had tucked under her sleeve. Zuko offered her a bemused smile as she turned to face him, spreading the map on the windowsill. Their eyes met, the oceanic blue of an ancient bloodline, and the promising amber of a new era. “You promised me that we would go island hopping. I would like to take you up on that offer when this is all over,” Yue sang. Her heart beat strong, and fast, and true.
“So…where are we going first?”
Notes:
Baby Girl Yue's POV has drawn to a close. Her story doesn't end here, and she will appear in the last few chapters, but she deserves to have her arc close on a happy note. After all she's been through, I think she's ready to just travel the world and get cracked by her man. Four more chapters to go, and an epilogue.
Chapter 70: Staring into the Sun
Notes:
Here we have Looney Tunes Lu-Ten and his last POV.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lu-Ten
Ozai burned like all other men did.
It was Fire Nation custom to wear white when grieving. Lu-Ten did not grieve a tyrant, but it was expected of him to usher in the new era by closing the old one. He allowed his cousins to bear the mourning colors, bedecked in white and gold as their reviled father was reduced to ashes upon a pyre. Lu-Ten owed them that much. They had followed him into war and would now follow him into glory. As the smoke billowed and the Fire Sages halfheartedly chanted the funeral intonations to guide the Usurper to whatever hellish afterlife awaited him, Lu-Ten breathed in the scent of a new world arising from the ashes. Five days had passed since he won his throne; the days were little more than a disjointed blur that left him reeling from despair and drunk on victory in turns. He did not sleep. Partly due to the fact that the Fire Lord’s private chambers still reeked of Ozai. His restlessness was fueled by the dark beast that coiled on his neck whose insidious whispers never ceased. They had grown louder, Lu-Ten realized, as soon as Izon had sunk to the bottom of the sea. Lu-Ten could claw at his ears and still he would not know peace. He squinted his eyes shut, acutely aware of where the others stood around him. Zuko and Azula on one side, Lallo and Yaretzi on the other. The Fire Nation siblings were reticent and as still as stone. They were the epitome of Fire Nation grace and decorum. Zuko’s Water Tribe wife had refused to take part in the ceremony. As was her right, Lu-Ten thought. If she had chosen to spit on Ozai’s corpse then she would have been justified in doing so.
Izara’s primal gaze burned into his spine, mirroring the waves of heat that rolled off of Yaretzi even from where she stood. Yaretzi had spent more time with Lallo and Izara than she had with him, still boiling in rage over his actions during the overtaking of the city. She had spoken to him only once, after he followed her during the breakfast after the capital fell.
“I do not know you.” Yaretzi had hissed. “I do not know who you are, but you are not Lu-Ten. He would have never caused…this.” Her fists had clenched as if she was preparing to strike him, but the blow never came. “A part of me is dead. You took Izon from me. I am the one who failed him.” Neither Lallo nor Tenoch were able (or perhaps not willing) to placate her.
I did not want this to happen. But it had to be done, Lu-Ten rationalized. Izon’s loss tore a hole in him that could not be repaired. There was a sort of hollowness in his gut that was vast and hungry, threatening to pull him in until he imploded. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. Lu-Ten bit his bottom lip until he tasted copper.
One of the Fire Sages- the hastily appointed Chief of their cult- prodded at his uncle’s smoldering remains. “It is done,” he announced. “The Phoeni-” he caught Lu-Ten’s hot glare, “the Usurper Ozai’s remains will be interred in the Shrine of the Sacred Ancestors, as is Fire Nation custom. All Fire Lords, both renowned and infamous, are owed a place in the ancestral crypt. Such is the way of our nation.”
Lu-Ten scoffed. Ozai was undeserving of resting beside their esteemed ancestors. Yet he caught the Fire Sage’s meaning well enough. His uncle, usurper though he was, was still of the House of Sozin. He had been the recognized ruler of the Fire Nation for over two decades. As Tenoch and Dejen would remind him, certain sacrifices had to be made. He watched as the priests swept the ashes into an unmarked urn and covered it with a silken burgundy cloth. It would be easy, he said to himself, to simply wrench the vase from the man’s hands and dash it onto the ground. But truly what purpose would it serve? Ozai was dead, struck down by the hand of a teenage girl, while Lu-Ten yet lived to claim what was rightfully his. He straightened his spine as the clergymen arranged themselves in a rigid line, chanting incessantly and swinging their fragrant censers. Their steps were shuffling and desultory, as if they were simply passing through the motions for the sake of custom. Lu-Ten as Ozai’s successor followed them. He was trailed by his queen and then his younger relatives while Lallo took his place at the rear. This is how it must be. For all that Lu-Ten wished to have his closest friend at his side, Lallo’s rank within the royal family was tenuous. He would hold no titles except for those that Lu-Ten would give him. Lu-Ten considered it. It was within his right to name Lallo as a royally appointed governor or administrator of an island like Kheosho or Saowan. Perhaps even the Spearhead Atoll. There remained the matter of Zuko and Azula, whom Lu-Ten could not allow to run about unsupervised. Yet they also had an obligation to their House. All must serve.
He considered it as he walked. The Queen of Arakem had appointed her siblings as regional governors as well as spymasters. Azula would prove useful. If he could trust her.
Well enough. Should she conspire against him, then she would stare down a dragon’s throat. Izara was not his to command, nor was she particularly inclined to violence, but she would bear no hesitancy in protecting Yaretzi. Who was to say that perhaps Azula misstepped and Izara assumed she was endangering the Fire Lady? An unfortunate event surely, but the era of kin harming kin was meant to be behind them. It would be justified. I am only doing what is necessary. I’m only doing what is right.
The Shrine of the Sacred Ancestors was a secluded cloister that had seen entire dynasties rise and fall. It predated the first Sozin and his father, and his father’s father. Zuko, a seemingly unfailing fountain of knowledge, explained that the shrine was built by a god. Or demigod. Lu-Ten couldn’t remember. Upon looking up, he could believe it. He paused, awestruck by the red-streaked marble columns draped in vibrant green vines. They coiled around the stone and lined the entrance of the crypt. Some feet away was the shrine cut from obsidian and basalt. Upon the upraised pedestal was a marble statue of a woman holding the sun to her breast. Amaterasu, the solar spirit god, who was said to be the sister and lover of the chief spirit-god Agni. Clutching the hem of her dress and clustered at her feet were kneeling children. It was not so different from Citlali, Lu-Ten mused. But where the Mother of Dragons and Keeper of Stars exuded maternal warmth, Amaterasu carried the energy of martial, almost possessive, protection. Her features were soft but her eyes, though they were made of stone, they were carved with uncanny watchfulness. One goddess would nurture her children. The other would kill for them, many times over. Such was the difference between the Sun People and the firebenders of the archipelago.
The ziggurat temple in the jungle of the Sun People came to mind. The entrance sloped down into the waiting belly of the burial ground while the ceiling stretched higher into arches that reminded Lu-Ten of a man’s ribcage. There was no natural light to guide them, only flickering lanterns set in recesses in the walls. Simultaneously Azula and Yaretzi ignited their palms. One flame was blue while the other carried shades of pink. The two young women glanced at each other, sharing a look that Lu-Ten did not quite understand. The fire cast long distorted shadows against the walls and the low humming of the Fire Sages caused Lu-Ten to grit his teeth. The air was cold and yet somehow impossibly hot, causing him to tug at his collar. The others were seemingly unaffected. Their footsteps echoed. The small effigies in the walls were watching him. Watching, watching. Whispering amongst themselves. Lu-Ten forced his breathing to slow. He was never one for dark, confined spaces. For that reason he was reluctant to enter the temples during the early years of his childhood. It always came naturally to his adoptive siblings. Their mother was a priestess after all; they had known the secrets of the dragons even while they were in their mother’s womb. Lu-Ten had clung to Tuwa’s legs until she peeled him off with an exasperated huff. Moema would taunt him while Lallo would coax him further. It was a fear that took long to conquer.
The names of hundreds of Fire Lords were etched on the walls. Lu-Ten traced them with the pad of his fingers, trying to picture how they must have been. Was Izanai tall and gracile, or was he a stocky natural born soldier? Was Zeisara equitable, or was she brutally efficient? Ichiko was beautiful, he decided, and Sozin the Third was noble to the core. “These are our ancestors. This…is my family?” The dragonlord spoke with boyish wonder.
Half concealed in the dim light Azula rolled her eyes. “If you are my uncle’s son.” Under her breath she muttered “stupid.”
“Princess. Don’t antagonize your cousin, dear.” Lallo snarked. “Especially during such a solemn event and most importantly in such a holy space. I shan’t curse your cousin’s rule by committing sacrilege.”
The court priests were wise to ignore the exchange.
Lu-Ten bristled but held his tongue. He would suffer the snide mutterings from the Avatar and her crippled brother, and the harsh whispers of his army, but Lallo danced too close. Don’t fail me as well, brother. I beg of you. Lallo’s betrayal would be ruinous. Unforgivable. Unthinkable. Unless he had already been poisoned by those who sought to displace him? Of course not. They were brothers. Lu-Ten forced a smile of brittle mirth. “I am my father’s son as much as you are your father’s daughter.”
Azula did not challenge him. She squared her jaw and continued after the Fire Sages with her elder brother in her shadow. The quintet descended further into the mausoleum (which was much larger than Lu-Ten had envisioned) where at last they came to a halt at a deep-cut curved enclave. A sarcophagus in the shape of a coiled dragon rested within. The lid was askew. Lu-Ten’s breath hitched.
There were four ornate urns already lining the inside of the sarcophagus. Upon each was a gold plate with flowing calligraphy. He read the inscriptions. Names, Lu-Ten realized. Just as the others. But none of them carried the title of Fire Lord. There was no Sozin or Azulon- they slept elsewhere within the subterranean vault. The first was Fire Lady Ilah, his grandmother. The second was Sora, tucked carefully beside the other. A cold finger dragged down Lu-Ten’s spine. My mother. He tried and failed to swallow the lump forming on his throat. She had been tall, he knew, but had she loved him? Did she sing lullabies and whisper affirmations of his greatness while he slept in his crib? Did she and his father watch over him fondly while his grandfather Azulon, not yet burdened with unsoundness of mind, rocked him in his arms? The third urn was larger. Prince Iroh, the plaque read, Prince of the Fire Nation. His father. The man who was destined to be the next Fire Lord before his uncle betrayed him. A man who had sought to make their nation prosperous without forcing their way through doors they were not meant to enter, and instead they had called him a turncoat. Lu-Ten’s hands trembled.
“I loved my brother once.”
“Mother, Father…I’m home.” The words came as a strained whisper.
“You were the joy of my life. I would've given up my crown if I could have watched you and raised you. I would have given up everything just to have you safe with me.”
“I loved my brother once.”
“I would have given up everything just to have you safe with me.”
“I pray that you will be the man that we all wish for you to be.”
The tears that ran down his face were hot and unending. Lu-Ten shook his head vehemently to dispel the voices and incomprehensible static noise. He heard his father, and Yaretzi, and the sneer of his uncle. He heard the crackle of fire. He heard screams that did not cease.
Yaretzi’s touch on his shoulder grounded him. Her face displayed concern. There was no forgiveness to be seen, nor unconditional love as there once had been. Just sympathy. “You are here,” his wife’s reassurance was for his ears alone, “not…in that dark place. You are here.”
I’m here. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
From the corner of his eye, he noted that Zuko and his sister stood paralyzed. Lu-Ten tore himself free from the despairing abyss and returned to the present. The fourth funerary vase was painted orange and white, with swirls of flame leaping from a raptor’s claws. It was new compared to the others, not yet possessing a thin coat of dust. The name plate bore the mark of a small fire lily.
Ursa.
His aunt’s remains were placed with the rest of their family. He had assumed that Ozai discarded his whore of a wife just as he did with the others he killed over the years. Their love was not worthy of songs (corrupted souls attracted corrupted souls) but no one could say that the bitch queen had not orchestrated or been complicit in the most heinous of her monstrous husband’s misdeeds. She was the knife in the dark. Lu-Ten observed his cousins. Zuko studied the floor. Azula stared blankly at the urn. Lu-Ten never deigned to question the princess of her relationship with her mother. Ursa had shielded her hatchlings from the worst of Ozai’s mania for the first years of their childhood. While I slept under stars that were not my own.
The Chief Fire Sage set the cremains in the hollow of the sarcophagus, next to the relatives that he had crossed in life. “May the spirit-gods weigh his soul. His flame has at last been extinguished.”
“His flame has at last been extinguished.” The other Sages echoed him as he sealed the stone dragon, enclosing the deceased members of the House of Sozin within. “Now we return to the living. The sun has risen on a new reign. The Usurper is dead.”
“Go on without me,” Lu-Ten ordered. “I would like to remain here. Alone. The names of my predecessors are unknown to me, I hope to at least learn some of them.” His brows twitched as Yaretzi hesitated, balancing her weight on her toes. He sighed. “Please.”
Lu-Ten turned slowly on his heel, taking in the minute details of the catacombs under the Shrine. Neither Amaterasu nor Citlali held dominion here, not in the darkness. The sun did not shine on dead men. He ran his hands over the wall. “You have a grandson, Father. I have a son, Mother. Another Sozin,” he chuckled. “I…could not bring myself to name him after you. The name didn’t suit him nor his destiny. A fortune teller told me that he would be the next Morningstar. I just hope that he is a greater man than me.” Lu-Ten blinked rapidly. He could hear the fading scrape of boots as the others retreated to the surface. “And you, Grandfather.”
After a few long minutes of silence, he prepared to exit. His breath appeared in white clouds before he warmed his blood with subtle firebending. Almost impulsively he turned back to the tomb of his kin. Lu-Ten smiled sharply.
“Goodbye, Uncle.”
He spat.
Azula, Zuko, and the Fire Sages were absent when Lu-Ten exited the Shrine. He found Yaretzi seated on the pedestal of the statue of Amaterasu with her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Lallo was close by. “I hope you found what you needed, brother.” The Sun Warrior made a gesture for Lu-Ten to walk in front of him. He extended his hand to his sister. “And you, Fire Lady. The messenger hawk from Bishara should fly in any hour now.”
The arrival of the ship from the Estival Peninsula was delayed by efforts to clear the wreckage left behind by the Fire God’s Prophet. Soldiers had transformed into laborers, using their earthbending and firebending to move and meld. The Avatar’s crippled brother spent most of his time in the lower parts of the city, accompanied by his fellow Tribesmen, sketching possible reconstructed architectural designs. The Avatar, Princess Yue, and Yaretzi were collaborating on an effort to provide temporary housing and other necessities for the displaced residents. The Air Nomad and Yaretzi flew tirelessly from the palace to the hastily constructed shelters with foodstuffs and supplies. Five days could only amount to so much, but their work was valiant all the same.
For the first time Yaretzi genuinely appeared happy. “I do not need to wait. Izara and I will leave immediately.” Her cheeks flushed with excitement. For a moment, when she looked at Lu-Ten, he saw the beautiful young woman who idolized him, who would burn men alive for him, who bore his son, and the only person he truly loved. She was not the jaded priestess that he had forcefully created by his actions. “We are going to see our son.”
Lallo seemed to exhale in relief. “A real Fire Nation Prince makes a grand entrance on a dragon’s back. Never mind the fact that he can’t walk yet. Go on,” he waved his hands, “bring the little hatchling home. I’ll make sure Princess Azula doesn’t burn the place down.” There was a mocking lilt in his tone, just innocuous enough that it could be excused as familial teasing. “These halls will be blithe and blissful.”
Yaretzi was gone before Lu-Ten could formulate a response. With a fleeting glance back at Lallo, Lu-Ten tore after her. His heart sang with a long-awaited glee. Sozin. His heir. His son. “Our son,” he whispered aloud. Yaretzi had already reached Izara and was scrambling onto the dragon’s back. Lu-Ten had an inkling of a feeling that she would have left without him had he not moved quickly enough.
His approach was stalled by Izara’s warning growl. The she-dragon swiveled her serpentine head. Yaretzi stared down at him from her place on Izara’s back. She did not extend her hand. Priestess and dragoness seemed to judge him as one entity. Lu-Ten cautiously reached up. Izara did not devour him, which he took as a good sign, and Yaretzi did not glare at him, which he took as a better one. After a moment’s pause Izara lowered her left shoulder to accept him.
While it did not quite feel unnatural, it felt strange to be on Izara’s back. Izon’s mind had been in accord with his own. Izara was not his to claim. She had never truly been at ease in his presence. He was no dragonkeeper. Not like Yaretzi, who could charm and enchant the dragons and speak to each one as if they were her kin. Izara flapped her wings. The muscles in her hind legs coiled and released, thrusting her skyward. She churned her wings to gain altitude as she rose above the highest pagodas of the Fire Nation palace.
The city below had a black scar cutting through the center- a remnant of the sheer force of the Fire God’s Prophet and Izon’s breath. To the west Lu-Ten saw the Avatar’s Air Nomad companion upon her flying bison. The saddle was laden with crates of goods and gold from the Crown’s treasury. The Usurper, for all his numerous faults, had made fiscally sound policies that made the Fire Nation rich for generations to come. He was good for something, Lu-Ten thought sourly. It would take months- years- to rebuild the lower quadrant of the city. The efforts were well underway. I did this.
Yaretzi was arrow-rigid. Her unbound hair fluttered in the wind. Lu-Ten dared to put a hand on her waist. She did not flinch nor did she lean into him as she once had. His wife steered Izara to the coastline, where the most damage had occurred. There were still piles of rubble and debris to be removed. Others would be repurposed in some fashion or another.
They flew beyond the warships that closed around the caldera. A flagship carrying a black and red dragon banner floated a mile away from the others, proud against the skyline. Izara let out a trill. She tucked her wings and fell into a spiraling barrel roll. Yaretzi shared her excitement in a giddy outburst. Lu-Ten clung to her tightly as Izara set her sights on the flagship’s deck. A number of figures appeared from within the belly of the ship, craning their heads in awe. The details of their features grew increasingly clear with every foot of their descent. The sailors on the deck scattered with cries of “dragon!” as Izara outstretched her legs to land.
Izara’s hind claws latched onto the railing of the ship’s hull, her wings causing ocean spray to soak the deck. Had she been any larger, Lu-Ten did not doubt that the vessel would have capsized. Perhaps one day she would surpass Izon and grow as large as Ran and Shaw. The onlookers gazed up at her in unconcealed awe. They were all from the Estival Peninsula, Lu-Ten knew, but the sight of a dragon in the flesh was a breathtaking experience time and time again. The topside men were a blend of Peninsular civilians, Arakemeti soldiers, and earthbenders from the outskirts of the Estival Peninsula’s territory. Lu-Ten spotted Sigei and the Water Tribesman’s sworn warrior, alongside a number of dogs. Izara leaned over the railing to allow Yaretzi and Lu-Ten to dismount before launching back into the sky to circle overhead.
Lu-Ten saw that his wife was trembling. He held her steady as Sigei and Tsigereda approached. The two of them were unscathed from the horrific battles that the others endured since leaving SunWatch. They wore white linen breeches and pale green shirts- the colors of their nation. In her arms Tsigereda cradled a cat.
Yaretzi let out a girlish cry. “Tozi!” The calico feline wriggled and sprang free from Tsigereda’s grasp. She landed at Yaretzi’s feet, purring loudly as she weaved in between her owner’s legs. The priestess’s grin was broad and bright. She scooped Tozi into her arms and scratched between her ears before turning again to Tsigereda and Sigei. Her apprehension was palpable. “A-and Sozin?”
Lu-Ten spun on his heel at the sound of a woman’s giggle.
“Here.” Bishara stepped forward from where she had been nestled behind Sigei and two other soldiers. She wore a pristine white dress with long, billowing sleeves which she used to shield the head of a plump dark haired baby. “This one doesn’t sleep when he hears pretty women talking. Or dragons for that matter.” She uncovered the child’s head, causing him to babble and kick his legs. His left hand gripped her braids. Bishara winced. “Yes, I see them too, little dragon. But you’ve got to let me go!” Sozin squealed and drooled, attempting to throw himself in Yaretzi’s direction.
Tozi, understandably, was forgotten. Yaretzi rushed to pull Sozin into her arms, his downy hair dark from his mother’s stream of tears. Lu-Ten watched as his wife reunited with their son, peppering his cheeks with unending kisses. A knot formed in his chest. His throat constricted.
I will destroy the world and create it anew for you.
Their son was of crawling age, and Bishara had reported that he already showed promise of being an early firebender. Lu-Ten saw himself in his son’s face, save for the curve of his nose. His satin-soft skin was darker than his own though not Yaretzi’s lovely copper. Lu-Ten stared at him. He was perfect.
I will clear every rock in your path no matter how large. I promise.
“Sozin. Sozin. Sozin,” Yaretzi repeated his name like a holy mantra. She clutched him to her breast and swayed on her feet. Her fingers ran over his cheeks and eyelashes, counting every finger and toe. “My Sozin.” At last she turned to Lu-Ten and presented their son to him as if he was the greatest treasure. Lu-Ten nervously drew closer and opened his hands to receive his son.
He’s the only good thing to come from me. He ruined all that he touched, he raged at shadows haunting the corners of his vision, but this…Lu-Ten found his hands shaking. Yaretzi held him steady, for once on the same accord. She winced at the baby’s iron hold on her hair, having traded Bishara’s braid for his mother’s. Sozin looked up at him with round eyes that were golden-tinged brown and a gummy smile that exposed three teeth. Lu-Ten found himself sweating. He took an impulsive step back. “Yaretzi, I can’t. He’s too…” Fragile? Too pure? Too unlike him? If he touched him then Sozin would be sullied like everything else. I’ll ruin him.
Yaretzi leaned forward until her lips brushed the shell of his ear. “He is your son.”
He was the greatest thing that she had ever given him.
She did not forgive him, Lu-Ten knew, nor did she fully trust him. Lu-Ten shook his head vehemently, pleading silently even as Yaretzi positioned his hands to hold Sozin. Her fingers were warm. The baby whimpered. His bottom lip began to tremble. “He doesn’t want me.” He knows he knows he knows—
Lu-Ten stepped away.
All smiles faded.
The color drained from Yaretzi’s countenance, leaving her expression shattered and stricken. She pulled Sozin closer. Lu-Ten could not find the words. Tsigereda, Sigei, and Bishara stared at him with blank, indecipherable gazes. Lu-Ten wished that the inferno had swallowed him just as it had Izon. When she looked at him once again, he was met by irises that were as hard and sharp and black as obsidian. Sozin peered up at him.
Yaretzi rose to her full height (which was not very impressive) and exhaled. She did not speak. Instead she turned away from him and retreated to the cabins of the ship, trailed by her cat.
Tsigereda looked from Lu-Ten to Yaretzi and cast nervous glances at Bishara and Sigei. She fled after the dragonkeeper in a blur of white and green.
Bishara, the most savvy of the three, made a peace making gesture. Lu-Ten could see her struggling and failing to find the words to fill the tense silence. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Maybe it’s best you stay with us rather than fly back with her.” The earthbender winced. “You should leave her alone for now.”
“Yeah…” Sigei dragged his words, “I think so too.”
Lu-Ten’s mind reeled. A thousand voices screeched at him. He resisted the urge to cover his ears. He wanted to cry. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
Yaretzi arrived before they did. By the time the flagship was moored at the port, Izara had reached the walls of the palace. They entered on uni-horses without fanfare. Lu-Ten found Izara perched on the roof of an administrative building while a crowd formed in the courtyard at the entrance. Servants and allies alike gathered to witness the arrival of the newest Prince, dozing while strapped to his mother’s chest. The Avatar and the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe were counted amongst their number. It struck Lu-Ten that they were all astonishingly young. Barely across the line that divided adulthood and childhood. Scarred, weary children. Sozin could be their nephew, or baby brother.
Lu-Ten was awarded only the most perfunctory acknowledgement. Even Lallo greeted him coolly before turning back to the new queen and his nephew. The new Fire Lord found himself nudged aside.
Katara, the Avatar, squeezed between her crippled brother and the Banka-Kadian thief, beaming and nearly vibrating with excitement. “He’s so big!” She gushed as Yaretzi passed Sozin to her. The Avatar accepted the sleeping baby with the utmost care. She moved so that those close to her could catch a glimpse of the Fire Lord’s heir, angling him so that Yue and all the other girls could coo over him. The young woman possessed a greater confidence in holding children than most, Lu-Ten noted, and he recalled that the royal family of the Water Tribes were more than just leaders. They were an integral part of their community. He had no doubt that she had held many newborns in the South Pole.
Azula surreptitiously sidestepped. Her movement led to Prince Zuko calling her name. The firebending princess halted and glared. “I don’t want to see it.”
Yaretzi did not take offense, or perhaps she did not catch Azula’s choice of words. “He is your kin, Princess.
“You’ve never even held a baby.” Zuko furrowed his brow.
Azula scoffed. “Because they are boring and they smell.” She paused and took a second look at her young cousin, eyeing him with generalized disdain. She ran the tip of her nail over Sozin’s cheek, as if testing his tangibility. Just as quickly she wiped her hands. “That one might not be so bad.”
“I knew you had a heart,” her brother teased. “It’s just shriveled and cold.”
Tenoch, as seemed to be his custom, intervened before the siblings could bicker. “The young prince is much too young to have his sleep disturbed by childish antics and useless spats. It is best that he joins little Rokuro in the nursery.”
Ah. Lu-Ten had forgotten about the whimpering little son of the Usurper’s most faithful advisor. Lallo was adamant about caring for him until the boy’s uncles came to claim him. Lu-Ten remained ambivalent in regards to the boy’s existence. A baby would never be harmed, and children were not guilty of their father’s sins. Yet he would extend no love nor effort for the child. Yaretzi and Lallo and Yue were free to coddle him as they wished. Spirits knew that he needed it. At least he is too young to remember his family’s demise. His mother, father, and sister died from ritual suicide rather than face the Fire Lord’s wrath.
I would have spared them. The wife and the children at least. They were guilty of no wrongdoing.
Katara passed Sozin back to his mother. A ring of girls closed around her. Lu-Ten deflated at the blatant disregard of his presence. Even Lallo vanished with Bishara, once again attached to his treasured earthbender. It was to be expected, he rationalized. Sozin was the future. And everyone loved babies.
It left him with his cousins, who were two sides of the same gold coin, and a stern-faced Tenoch. Zuko’s countenance was twisted in a strange grimace of awkward sympathy. Lu-Ten mused absently that there were few things that Zuko did not do awkwardly. His wife didn’t seem to mind, rolling her eyes in exasperation at his jokes and well-intentioned gestures of kindness.
“I take it that your reunion with Sozin did not go as expected.” Tenoch’s tone was carefully neutral. “What did you do?”
Shame flooded him. “Tenoch, I didn’t mean to!” But my hands are dirty. I just meant to protect him. “I reacted poorly. And now Yaretzi has shunned me. She hates me.”
Zuko twitched his remaining brow. “That’s rough.”
Tenoch shot a warning glance at the younger man. “Walk with me, Lu-Ten.” He beckoned his son-by-law with a come-hither motion.
The Fire Lord, in spite of the fact that he was a man grown, obeyed. Tenoch walked slowly but not without purpose. His hands were clasped behind his back. The years and wars had begun to wear on him; it was evident in the way his shoulders stooped and subtle lag in his gait. He led Lu-Ten through the halls, passing and winding through the inner corridors. The only sound was the click of their boots over the freshly polished tile. The interior was too dark, Lu-Ten thought. Too oppressive. Hodan’s court was bright and full of people, where gemstones were embedded in the walls and sparkled in the sunlight. SunWatch was breezy and warm.
After a moment’s pause Lu-Ten realized that Tenoch had led him to a garden. It was one of over a dozen, according to Zuko. The Phoenix Queen had loved to carefully curate open spaces and create themed, secluded gardens. This one was rather muted. The flowers were dark violet and deep burgundy, and the azalea shrubs clustered to form an impenetrable thicket. A fledgling peach tree grew in the center. Its fruit was small and misshapen.
Tenoch knelt to pick up a fallen shriveled fruit. He rolled it between his fingers ponderously. “This tree is still young,” he said, “and has not yet dug its roots too deep to be moved. This is most likely its first time bearing fruit. It’s ugly, no?” He extended the peach to Lu-Ten. “All things are ugly in the beginning.”
Lu-Ten snorted. “I don’t want to hear any of your riddles, Tenoch. Don’t preach to me about fruit.”
The elder sighed. “The rest of the Order always say that you young people are always in so much of a hurry. Now I wonder what Tuwa was teaching you back then. Fine. I am saying that this tree was given room to grow and to fail before blossoming. Mayhaps we put too much on you too soon. We should have given you more time to grow, or have chosen another. Prince Zuko was also slow to flourish.”
The younger firebender bristled. “Are you saying Zuko would be a better Fire Lord than me?”
Reflexively the Sun Warrior groaned. “What I am saying is that Prince Zuko has undergone a similar journey to you. He lived in the shadow of a destiny that was pressed upon him. He was meant to be the next Phoenix King and follow in his father’s footsteps. It was all he knew, and all he wanted to know. Ishragha once compared him to a lump of coal. But his father exposing his true nature, and his time away from the Fire Nation made him malleable and receptive to change. Both of you were born under immense pressure. But where you differ, son, is that Prince Zuko has taken that pressure and pushed back against it. He realized that he did not want to be the man that his father molded him to be. He was burned for it, but still he persisted.” Tenoch pressed the peach into Lu-Ten’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “The time has come for you to do the same. Now you must ask yourself: Am I the man I want to be?”
I want to be Yaretzi’s husband. I want to be the Fire Lord. I want to be Sozin’s father. I want to be greater than all my predecessors. I want to be a god.
———
The Temple of the Rising Sun was nearing completion. It would be some weeks yet, but Lu-Ten hoped that he would be crowned under the same roof as his ancestors. Messenger hawks had flown to all reaches of the archipelago, summoning noblemen and commoners alike to witness the coronation ceremony of the newest Fire Lord. Yaretzi remained cold to him, preferring to surround herself with the other young women occupying the palace. Lu-Ten saw Sozin only briefly from the cradle of his mother’s arms.
“She doesn’t hate you,” Lallo had said. “She is just…disillusioned.”
“What do you suggest I do to apologize, cousin?” Lu-Ten threw a glance over his shoulder.
Zuko grimaced as he trailed Lu-Ten, unable to offer much sympathy. He plodded behind Lu-Ten through the brightly lit corridors leading to the administrative complex to discuss the imminent departure of most of the Arakemeti forces. It was better to keep his cousin close, Lu-Ten thought, especially after his conversation with Tenoch. He will not supplant me as his bastard father did. I will burn the Fire Nation to the ground before I see him on my throne. Had he not suffered and sacrificed enough? The younger man scratched the back of his neck. “…maybe give her flowers?”
Lu-Ten let out a deriding snort. “Of course. There must be a well-versed horticulturist somewhere amongst the palace staff. Or did your father hang him as well?” He could feel Zuko’s amber glare. “Does Princess Yue speak to you about her? They have become rather…close.” They were married into the same family after all.
His younger cousin contemplated his response. “Not really. Girls are weird. It’s like they have their own secret language.”
Princess Yue was as politely courteous as one would expect. Their brief conversations were curt. She did not object when he requested to pet her polar dog, whom she had named after a Water Tribe spirit-god, and it relieved Lu-Ten that at least one animal didn’t hiss or bare its teeth when he approached. Beyond that Lu-Ten had little to say to her. He had offered her freedom and she chose instead to remain. She was useful, he knew, and dangerous in her own way. Some women were warriors, like Azula and the Avatar, and others were weavers. Yue was a pretty little spider; she had endured Ozai until she drove a dagger through his heart. Lu-Ten made a non-committal sound in his throat.
“The palace used to be a warlord’s fortress,” Zuko launched into a long-winded explanation of the many gates and towers and walls built around the keep and its myriad of gardens. Lu-Ten resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Apparently he built it to resemble the sun and its rays—”
“That is very nice, cousin, but I do not care to know every intricacy of our household’s architectural history. Save your vast knowledge for Sozin and tutor your future Fire Lord when he’s old enough.” Lu-Ten swallowed his irritation. Of course Zuko would know these things. He had grown up surrounded by their history. It was expected of him to be an exemplary Crown Prince.
After passing through the open air path from the interior keep to the stately offices, they arrived at the building where the elders of the White Lotus and the highest commanders of the Arakemeti earthbenders awaited them. Lu-Ten could hear the din of voices from within, interspersed with laughter and mirth. Zuko halted behind him. For a moment he considered letting his cousin enter first. It would not dampen the mood so quickly. Just as quickly he decided against it. Lu-Ten was cognizant of the fact that many found Zuko more palatable, with his gawky charm and familiar face, but Zuko was not the Fire Lord. Zuko was nothing and would have nothing had it not been for Lu-Ten’s goodwill. I am a benevolent and merciful man.
He was met by an expectant hush. The most decorated First Spears sat closest to the elders of the White Lotus, sipping on coffee or tea.
“Fire Lord Lu-Ten. Prince Zuko.” Lady Sagal’s tone was carefully measured. “Lord Dejen was just finalizing our plans. He has told me that your coronation will take place soon. The time has come for us to return to Arakem.”
Zuko nudged Lu-Ten. “My mom always said you should say thank you,” he whispered. “It might be a good time.”
“Queen Hodan has been very gracious.” Lu-Ten bowed. “And my gratitude cannot be expressed. I could not have come so far without your support and sacrifice.” He could feel Owiti’s condemnatory stare. Gakere and Chele joined him. “It saddens me to see you leave, but it is my hope that Arakem and the Fire Nation will forge a bond that extends beyond our generation. Perhaps in the future we might see a daughter of Arakem as a Fire Lady, or a son of the Fire Nation as a royal consort. When all is settled, I will invite Queen Hodan to visit the Fire Nation so we can finally sit as equals.” He saw Dejen nod in approval.
Owiti rolled his eyes. “It appears that the Dragon King must learn to stand on his own without the sons and daughters of Arakem supporting him.” He laid his hand flat on the table, revealing his jeweled rings. Chele and Gakere snickered. The three of them were like a three-headed desertdog, teeth bared in mocking smiles.
"Yes," said Chele, "there'll be no more support from our spears."
"Our earthbending will not shield him." Gakere bared his teeth.
Neither Sagal nor Dejen corrected him. Sagal invited Lu-Ten and Zuko to sit. “It is my understanding that the Avatar and her brother will stay to witness the ceremony. I would expect the Avatar to do so. It is her duty to ensure that all nations exist in harmony.”
Harmony.
The word struck a chord in Lu-Ten, triggering a memory that had been lost in the haze of recent events. His uncle had been driven by the desire to transcend mortality and to reach for the power of the gods by sacrificing his son and a dragon to initiate a new Harmonic Convergence. Harmony. The word sank its claws into Lu-Ten’s mind, drowning out the conversations around him. It felt complete. It felt right. He remained seated even after the meeting with the First Spears adjourned, stirred only by the feel of Dejen shaking his shoulder.
“Lu-Ten,” Dejen prompted. “There are still things to be done.” He bore a queer expression. “Are you well, Your Grace?”
Lu-Ten shook himself from his stupor. “Yes,” he mumbled absently, “I agree.” The chair toppled as he stood too quickly. Exhilaration flooded through him and Lu-Ten found himself unable to halt his thoughts. “Zuko, what is a Harmonic Convergence?”
Zuko froze where he stood. He searched Lu-Ten’s countenance before replying. “Why?”
Ah. So he knows.
Dejen hovered over them. Lu-Ten offered a noncommittal shrug. “Something I heard in passing,” he said, “I merely thought that you might have read about it at some point or another.”
His younger cousin ground his teeth, trying and failing to maintain a neutral stance. “It was one of my father’s interests.” His tone was curt and laden with suspicion.
Lu-Ten hummed. “Don’t fret, cousin. It was just a passing thought.”
The others ate dinner without him, but he was not offended. Lu-Ten instead chose to practice firebending katas alone. The undulating forms of the Sun Warriors did not come so naturally as they once had, and he found himself stumbling as if he was a little boy. Twice he spun and twice he fell. His golden streams of flame were not so bright nor so fierce. He let out a growl of frustration.
The firebender slipped into the Dancing Dragon form and channeled his inner peace, yet instead he was struck by an overwhelming sense of unease. His feet crossed, causing his chin to smash against the concrete. Lu-Ten tasted blood. Cursing aloud, he punched out a flash of fire. His heart sank in dismay. It was little more than sparks. Lu-Ten let out a wordless shout. He lashed out and from his fingers came a stream of fire that blazed across the courtyard, stoked by his anger and frustration. Every time he tried to perform a Sun Warrior dance, his bending was weak and his movement uncoordinated.
He could almost see Tuwa in the corner of his eye, shaking her head as her lip curled in disdain. “I didn’t raise you to be this. Tenochizun and Citlali have turned their backs on you. You are no longer one of us. After all I’ve done to steer you on the right path and now you’re lost.”
But I am, he argued. I am that and more. I’m not lost.
He was the Fire Lord, he was a Sun Warrior. He was the pinnacle of his father and grandfather’s bloodline. Let his son be the Morningstar. Lu-Ten would be the Sun.
Lu-Ten was not sure how long he stayed outside alone, working through various training circuits with rebellious vigor. The stars were his only companion. Although he could not see her, Lu-Ten knew that Izara was somewhere close by. Most likely roosting with the Air Nun’s flying bison while the Avatar’s leopard-caribou slept in another cloister. He began to move in desperation as his firebending grew weaker until it was little more than puffs of smoke. I’m not lost, he chanted, I’m not. His legs were a bruised purple. His knuckles bled. But he couldn’t firebend. He couldn’t—
Panic dragged its fingers down his spine, constricting his throat until he couldn’t breathe. The world closed around him. A camelephant sat on his chest.
Long shadows stretched over the dim corridors, revealing vile beasts at every turn. Lu-Ten crashed into walls, frantically running his hands along them to find his way. It was winding and unending, each corner leading to a dead end. Doors opened and a dozen voices called his name. He flew past them all, skirting a corner that led to one of the royal family’s private quarters. He sought the apartments of the last Fire Lady, his grandmother, which had remained vacant since her passing. His aunt had always shared her husband’s bed. The Fire Lord was driven by frenzied distress, leading him to bang on one of the doors until his fist ached. Boot steps followed behind. Lu-Ten knocked harder.
Yaretzi leaned on the threshold, expression clouded by exhaustion. Her hair fell about her shoulders in disheveled waves. The priestess immediately became alert upon recognizing him. “Lu-Ten?”
His name barely left her lips before he stepped into the room, dropping to his knees at her feet. Lu-Ten clung to her legs. “I can’t firebend, Yaretzi, I can’t firebend.” She laid at hand on top of his head. Lu-Ten held onto her as if she was an anchor and he was being thrown at sea.
For several long moments his wife did not speak. Her touch did not hold the warmth of devotion. Yaretzi tilted his chin until he was looking up at her. “Because you are not Lu-Ten.” The sentence struck him like an arrow to the chest. “You are not the boy that my mother raised. Nor are you the man that I love, and for whom I bore a son for. Nor the man for whom I have borne the burden of protecting you from your own actions.” She leaned down and suddenly Lu-Ten did not recognize her. “The turmoil within you can only be overcome by your own strength.”
The dragonlord gaped, feeling his hands fall free until he sank to the floor at Yaretzi’s bare feet and she did not stoop to help him.
“If you look for the light, then you will find it. But if you only search for darkness, then that is all you will ever see. There is still light in you. But you must find it.” His wife blinked rapidly in a desperate attempt to stop the tears. “I cannot…I cannot save you. Not from them, not from yourself.” Yaretzi shook her head as if to dislodge a dark thought. “Now please, Lu-Ten, leave me alone.”
Anger and sorrow waged a war in his heart. He was not sure which one emerged victorious, only that his gaze hardened just as hers had. Yaretzi did not flinch nor did she flee.
“Please,” she repeated. “Not now.”
Lu-Ten rose, towering over her as he always had, and opened his arms like a child begging for his mother’s touch. Yaretzi denied him.
She hates me.
Why did she not understand? Why did none of them understand? His firebending was weak for now, until he could ascend to greatness. My uncle had the right of it. The only way to truly bring prosperity to the world is to guide them. My firebending will return. I know it. I don’t need to find the light. I am the light. Sozin deserved a worthy father. Sozin deserved the world, and Lu-Ten could not give it to him as a mortal man. Yaretzi did not look at him. All would work out in the end, Lu-Ten swore. Izon’s sacrifice had not been in vain. They would understand in time. The Avatar would agree with him. Balance was the key, and Lu-Ten would hold the scale.
Yaretzi called his name as he left. It was his turn to ignore her, striding away from her with renewed vigor, driven by the mania of insomnia. His steps were more sure. A calmness fell over him. The tangle of voices and sounds in his mind hushed.
He made his way to his own temporary chambers, not far from where Yaretzi slept. Lu-Ten threw the door open and staggered inside. He had the confidence of a self-assured drunkard. Dancing dragons swooped and dipped on the edges of his vision. The room was as he had left it. Its colors were austere red and black, as equally oppressive as it was comforting.
The rooms were not as large as the others, which led Lu-Ten to think that it might have been the personal chambers of a royal family member who ranked low on the order of succession. Most likely a little brother or younger sister who stood to inherit nothing, relegated to the less desirable rooms. For now Lu-Ten did not mind it. He moved further into the bedroom. There was a standing mirror in the corner, next to a table that held a lacquered box of grooming supplies. Lu-Ten opened it slowly, taking note of gold combs and gem encrusted hair brushes. He raised one of the hair brushes to the light.
Lu-Ten studied himself in the mirror. His topknot made his face appear even more severe than it was, accentuating his angular cheekbones and narrow eyes ringed by the dark circles of sleeplessness. His goatee had grown longer, much darker than his preferred style. He made a mental note to shave it. Lu-Ten pulled his hair free. It tumbled to his shoulders and settled across his brown and gold-trimmed shirt. The face in the mirror did not look like his own. There was a sort of uncanny recognition, a sense of knowing but not understanding. He ran the brush through his hair, watching himself all the while, and with each passing stroke his reflection twisted and contorted, forming too-wide smiles and too-wide eyes.
A man appeared to his left. “Father?” Lu-Ten paused.
“Now you must ask yourself: Am I the man I want to be?”
Lu-Ten furrowed his brow. “You don’t understand. I’m not the man I want to be. I want to be more. I need to be more. The world needs me.”
Tuwa appeared on his right. “After all I’ve done to steer you on the right path, you've lost your way. You’ve lost your firebending. You’ve lost your mind..” her voice merged with his father’s. “You’ve become-”
“A monster. Just like your uncle.”
“Shut up!” Lu-Ten hurled the brush at the mirror, cackling with glee as his father’s face fractured and vanished amid the broken glass and Tuwa vanished into dust. He laughed until his chest ached and his breath came in bursts that morphed into gasping, ragged sobs. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand. It was just, it was right. It was his destiny. Yaretzi would come around in time. They all would come around. But if only they would just listen.
A pale figure caught his eye, lounging in the corner of the antechamber where the door met the wall. Azula reclined in the singular chair like a viper-tiger after a hunt, her amber eyes watching him with a twinkle of smug amusement. Her position suggested that she had been there all along, patiently awaiting his return. A steaming cup sat at her feet. “I suppose next we’ll find you howling at the moon. Do keep in mind that it’s well past midnight. The whole wing heard you blundering through the halls like a blind bullpig. Your wife’s brother was rather cross that you almost woke up both of those…babies.” The amber eyed girl (young woman, really) yawned with dramatic flair. “They said that our grandfather did the same thing in his latter years. Seeing ghosts in the night, monsters under his bed.” She examined her cuticles.
Lu-Ten watched her warily. Azula moved with serpentine speed, causing him to stumble a pace when she stood. The sudden proximity made him uneasy. Azula cradled the cup. A tiny flame in her palm kept the liquid warm. She leaned forward until they were mere inches apart.
“In any case,” Azula sang, "I decided to be a good cousin and bring you some tea. It might calm your high strung nerves.” She pressed the teacup into his hand.
Lu-Ten looked down at it before bringing the cup to his nose. He sniffed. It smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. “You poisoned it.”
His youngest cousin’s grin was mocking. “Of course not. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now. You’re just as paranoid as my brother. Have you no faith in me? Your own flesh and blood.” Azula dragged her talon-like nails over his jawline, chucking him under the chin. “It’s chamomile. That old Sun Warrior said that my uncle was quite a tea connoisseur. I figured you'd like to follow in his footsteps.”
The dragonlord flinched. He sniffed the tea once more before taking a sip. It warmed him from within. Skepticism heightened his focus. “You’re toying with me.”
The princess beckoned him to drink again. She took a half-step back from whence she came. “I never really liked playing with dolls.” Her voice dropped into a sultry lullaby. “Goodnight, sweet cousin. Sleep well.”
Notes:
Lu-Ten post-resurrection has always been a challenge and at times actually disturbing to write, especially with his warped reality and moral compass. He’s bat-shit crazy, and knows it, and is at war with himself, leading to the loss of his firebending and the burning of the last of his bridges. Yaretzi’s up next.
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