Earth, Fire, Water, Air.
Long ago, the gods who ruled the elements bickered and fought amongst themselves, until the Phoenix King asserted himself as supreme ruler. He was a flame deity, and as such, was more temperamental than most of the other gods. But he had an iron fist when it came to their rule, and he divided all those under him into the four elements.
The gods of Earth were ruled by the goddess of justice.
The gods of Water were ruled by the goddess of the moon.
The gods of Air were ruled by the god of children.
The gods of Fire were ruled by the god of war.
And all were ruled under the Phoenix King, god of the sun.
But this is not their story.
A young godling once came into the court of the Sun God. He was ordered to shine brightly and bring draught to a village that protected the young god protected, but the young god disobeyed. In anger for acting against the Phoenix King, the young god was thrown from the Realm of the Gods into the World of Man. He was told to live among the mortals and learn his lessons in their world.
A curse was placed on him by the Phoenix.
And to this day, the godling has lived with man, trying to gain favor and learn how to become a god once again.
BOOK 1: FIRE
Zuko has felt pain before. A god feels pain but does not notice it. But somehow, today, he felt differently. As if it had not been compartmentalized. As if this pain had taken his entire being and he was only that entity. Zuko was not so much in pain as he was pain. He suddenly understood the word and realized that what he knew as pain previously was paltry in comparison.
He was a flame god, he was born of fire, and so he hurtled down as a shining star, burning brightly amidst the morning sky, falling from the high realms into the ones below. When he crashed, it took several flickers of flame before he could manage to move.
When he managed to achieve movement, it took him several more flickers to get used to the idea. He tested the well of his power and learned that he could not form into the dragon that he was. The human was easier, because humans were less mystical beings than dragons.
The shift had been excruciating at first, as soon as it finished, he realized that being flame was less painful, but it had burned more from his reserve, so he endured the pain and took several more breaths before trying to form clothes, which was successful, and from which his dual Dao swords also appeared. Momentarily surprised that they were allowed to be with him, he sheathed them on his back as he was accustomed to.
He tried to bend fire, and it was slightly more difficult than usual. The flame was erratic in his hands and small, so he snuffed it out. At least he could still bend. And surprisingly, as long as he didn't access more of his spirit, the pain could bank into bearable. He hoped it would dull and cease with time.
He looked around, noting where he fell, the lonely stretch of dirt road between here and nowhere. He slowly regained his sense of the mort realm and realized that he was close to his own shrine. Now having a destination, if not a plan, he faced resolutely towards the pull of his eternal fire and took his first step as not-god-but-not-quite-mortal and sought his shrine.
oOo
The shrine of the God of Perseverance, sat in the middle of a green forest, built by a wanderer who had found enlightenment. It had been built shortly after Zuko had been tested for his affinity and had grown into his godhood. It was a fairly new shrine, with only a few retainers.
As soon as Zuko stepped into the shrine, he felt power ripple across him. The pain which he'd been used to since being thrown down, ceased. This was his boundary. His power was stronger here, but he himself needed to sustain it. And since he has been greatly diminished since he was thrown down, he could sustain some of the shrine but not all of it.
The retainers all sank low on their feet when he came close, bowing to him, knowing him instinctively as he came. He looked at the handful that had greeted him, and knew that he was going to have to let them go. Even banished, he could sustain the shrine, but the spirits needed the bridge to the higher realms to survive. Since he was cut off, the shrine was going to be cut off.
"I'm not sure if you've heard," Zuko said slowly as he looked at them. "I've been banished."
The spirits all looked up at him, and a fox spirit finally slowly rose from the ground to bow before him. "I am sorry, my lord, we have served you well these past few years. Let us serve you while we are able."
Zuko shook his head snapped his fingers to show his flame, then quickly snuffed it. "I can't ask you to be wraiths in this shrine until I take my godhead again. My uncle is the God of War, he'll take you in until I'm capable of sustaining all of you."
The fox spirit fanned out his hand to show a scroll. "The unanswered prayers of devotees, my lord."
Zuko accepted, and between one blink and the next, he was alone in his shrine. They couldn't do anything else but leave. He had given his orders, and they had obeyed. He sighed as he trudged up the steps, the shrine wasn't large, and when he threw open the inner sanctum, he stepped in between the gate between the real world and the next. The small world contained within the shrine's sanctum.
He pulled in the power from the outermost rooms, until all that was left from what was once a world within worlds was an inner sanctum and a small room for sleeping. He walked slowly towards the inner hall and saw his eternal flame. It was still burning though it had lessened in intensity. Behind it, a gate was closed and sealed, symbol of his banishment from the higher realms. Once it would have opened into a bridge towards the higher realms, an easier access to his own dwelling in the higher planes.
He brought out the Dao swords and laid them in front of the flame watching them slowly take form. Forged in the same fire, the twins had been made for him by his mother as a gift. Meifeng had taken a female form and Jiang male, both with long flowing platinum blond hair and glittering silver eyes, the only distinguishing factor was a mole near Meifeng's right eye representation of the small jade that his mother had placed on her hilt.
"You should leave too," Zuko said.
"We serve the God of Perseverance," Meifeng told him, her voice the airy whisper of wind against the blade when it moved.
"We serve until we are no longer spirit," Jiang affirmed, his voice was strong and solid, the clash of swords when it hit a hilt.
"We serve until we are no longer blade," they both said at once, "We serve until only cold steel is left, until the day that our blade rusts and turns into dust."
Unlike the others, he could not simply order Meifeng and Jiang to leave. They had been given to him by his mother, and with love she had entrusted them to him, and him to them. It would be painful if he lost the two of them. They've been with him since he was old enough to use the sword, and they've saved him from more than one vengeful god.
He nicks both of his wrists until blood is flowing and offered it to them. They both knelt down before him and took two sips before lifting their lips from his skin and looked up to him. The wounds stopped bleeding when he rubbed against it, sealing it close. "I don't know how long I can sustain you."
"A blood offering is powerful, my lord," Meifeng soothed him. "We will not use this form and keep to the blade so that we will not squander it."
Jiang nodded. "An offering On the morning of the eve of the new moon - when your power is strongest - for every new moon should keep us as spirits. We do not need to visit the higher realms to exist. We are sturdier beings than that."
"You are our anchor, my lord," she reminded him as they both dropped to the ground, swords once more.
Well at least he knew he could keep them both. He looked around the shrine. It felt dilapidated already, his power diminished and the retainers gone.
He didn't understand the terms of his banishment. He didn't even understand the terms of his curse. But he knows that at least, he was going to be able to survive in this world. He turned towards his room, it was simple with one futon. He didn't need sleep, but he was temporarily human, and he felt it's pull. The sun was still high, but the use of power had exhausted him. He had managed to conserve most of its use, but a little rest would do him good.
Tomorrow, he was going to ask questions, and hopefully get some answers.
His uncle's shrine was close to his own. He would visit. He would walk, because that would use less of his reserve. Happy that at least he had a half formed plan, he slept.
oOo
Zuko was thankful that his uncle's shrine was across the forest and not across the river. The boundary of his uncle's protection and Zuko's own was blurred but was present and at least he would not waste more power than necessary to reach his uncle. He left his shrine early the that day and left wards against evil entering the place, while one of the Dao swords was at the hearth so that it would at least send him warning if things were amiss.
Given the fact that he was a banished god, and that his shrine didn't have anything valuable, he doubted that spirits would suddenly try and scavenge things from his shrine. Besides, his uncle's shrine was nearby, if his own presence wasn't a hindrance, his uncle's certainly was.
His uncle was standing at the gateway of the rather large and elaborate shrine to the God of Tea, motioning for Zuko to come in. He was expected. He had sent his servants to come to the shrine, after all, and he had been banished. His uncle would have waited for him until he came.
Iroh, God of War, Lord of the Fire gods, God of Tea, Dragon of the West. Zuko's uncle. Zuko wondered if he was forgetting more titles.
Iroh snapped them into the dining area, the use of spirit fluid enough, that one moment, Zuko was walking under the shrine's gates, and the next he had to catch himself from falling down while sitting in front of a low table. He had never had the problem before, but he guessed there were some things that his demotion had given him that he would have to get used to.
Iroh pushed a tea cup towards him while a fox spirit in human form served them. Zuko knew it was useless to talk to his uncle before tea was served so he drank his cup and waited until Iroh spoke. "There is no justice in the spirit world. It is a human concept. There is war, and there is a semblance of ownership. There are no laws. We keep balance in an intricate set of hierarchy. We understand power and we serve those who have more than we do."
It was useless to talk about the culture they were steeped in. Zuko understood it. He might not like it, but he understood that there was nothing to govern beings that were as powerful as gods. A flash of temper could sink an island or build an entire race of new beings. What they had were boundaries of capabilities. "I'm not going to seek revenge against, father, uncle."
"No, you love your father too much," Iroh said slowly. "I wonder if the Goddess of Justice weeps at the fact that she is only revered here in the land of man."
"I don't think she cares too much. She's a young goddess. Younger than me." Zuko shrugged. Gods skirmished, but there were gods who were always content with their lot in life. "She's powerful enough to be granted rule over all Earth gods."
Iroh listened to the assessment and said slowly, "Do you know her well then, my nephew?"
"I know her enough. We were born three hundred years apart." By their realm's definition, they were treated almost the same age, most of their childhood had been spent together. "I was there when she was tested."
"That's good, that's good," Iroh murmured. He took another long sip of tea before he said, "Your power well has been cut off by breaking your connection to your spirit. To form that connection and earn your godhead again you must forge it."
"You mean, I have to visit all the major gods and ask for their blessings again?" He had done so when he came of age, the blessings would form the bridge to his core and with it, his connection back to the higher realms. "They're going to ask impossible tasks again."
"I only asked for you to bake bread," Iroh reminded him.
"Out of nothing. In one night," Zuko muttered. It had seemed a lifetime ago. "You're the only major god from the past that hasn't left."
"There has been ah... a change in management. The older gods like ruling in the higher realms and leave the lower realms to younger gods." Iroh shrugged, he has always liked the realm of man. Tea was abundant, and there was less quarrelling. He thought it was better even if men kept calling him "Dragon of the East" when he was clearly a "Dragon of the West." "Honestly, I do not see the appeal. Although ruling here means I have to check all of the flame gods that are present in this realm, it's much better than the warring in higher realms."
"Are you going to ask me to bake bread again?" Zuko asked, frowning in dislike for the task.
"No. I'm asking you to boil tea."
Zuko groaned. That was possibly the only other answer worse than baking bread.
oOo
Tending to Iroh's shrine was a learning experience. As a god, he hadn't been brought up to know menial labor, but Iroh was a guiding hand. He put Zuko's fairly young back to work around the shrine, showing Zuko how to work with the human implements that were stored in the shed and how to care for those that were in the shrine.
Zuko complained about Iroh having spirit workers to tend to his shrine instead, but even with the complaints, and Iroh's laughter, Zuko worked diligently. During the first few days he had to be told what to do, and how to do it. He resented it a little, but he learned. Manual labor didn't have a steep learning curve, but for a godling, most of the work was new. And while he didn't understand the work, it did conserve the small amount of spirit that he managed to generate ever since he was cut off from his core.
At the end of every day, Zuko made tea. He boiled tea and brought it to his uncle to be judged. Iroh always drank the tea that Zuko made but never commented on it. And after each session with the tea, Zuko sighed and went to quarters specifically set aside for him to sleep.
On the last day of the week, Zuko was summoned by his uncle before he could start the day with the shrine. "You need to go back to your shrine at least every week, nephew. You need to tend it or you will not be able to generate even the small amount of spirit you've been using to sustain your life. I'll send you home for today. Come back tomorrow, bright and early."
And in one moment, between lifting a tea cup, and sipping the hot liquid, Zuko was back in his shrine in front of the sacred fire. Zuko placed the Dao sword that was strapped to his back on the shrine's fire again. This close to the shrine's eternal flame, it was easier for them to use less spirit.
He passed his hand through the fire and it's slow burn blazed brightly again. Satisfied that he could still feed the eternal flame he stood up to begin another day of purifying the grounds, cleaning the well and emptying the sacrificial boxes. He swept the ash of the incense holders and generally tried to make his shrine clean again. It was an endless string of menial work, but there was no one else to do it but him. In a way, he was thankful that Iroh had taken time for him to learn in his uncle's shrine. At least all of the duties were not new.
oOo
What Zuko does notice, is the dwindling people who go and seek his shrine. He didn't blame them for leaving, he could not grant large prayers, so he had been limiting himself to basic blessings.
As soon as Zuko realized this he brought it up to his uncle as he served tea. "How many years have I been boiling tea?"
"Noticed it have you, my nephew?" Iroh murmured as he took the tea cup in his hands. "It has been eighty years since your banishment. It is merely a blink of the eye for you, my nephew. But tell me, what have you learned in my shrine?"
Zuko paused to think on it. He looked at the tea cups, did a quick calculation and said, "That there are twenty five thousand three hundred seventy nine ways to seriously make undrinkable tea." There was irritation and annoyance in his countenance.
It earned him a laugh from Iroh.
oOo
Initially, Zuko didn't notice her. She was one of the supplicants who came in weekly to pray, and he gave as much blessing as he could. The day to day blessings didn't need power, it only needed some spirit, and he had enough of that. Usually, the gods doled out blessings to siphon off extra spirit that could not be stored in their power well. Ever since he had been banished, there had been too little access to his core, therefore he could give his blessings to a few people, and sometimes, none at all, because he could not spare some. He generated enough for day to day living and upkeep of the shrine after he'd pulled the reserves, but there was too little extra to give to other people.
Her devotion singled her out, though. Long past other people left for stronger gods, she came always to his shrine to offer food. Sometimes she burned money. He watched her cautiously as he continued on with the upkeep of gardens, raking the stones, trimming the hedges. He had decided a long time ago, that he'd conserve more power if he did the things manually than expending light tendrils of his spirit for the regular upkeep of the shrine. Because of this, he was usually around the shrine on her day of worship.
Sometimes, she just left the offerings and then went home. Other times, she stayed longer, staying in the gardens, sitting on one of the stone benches, watching the birds. Sometimes, she flipped a knife idly in the air, and threw it at a dead tree just outside of the shrine. He smiled in amusement at that particular play, and was just thankful that none of the trees in his garden were sacred. He couldn't invest in that much power leeching from him.
It was months before they came across each other without the entire shrine in between them. She stopped toying with her knives, swiftly hiding it inside her sleeves before she nodded towards him in greeting. Uncomfortable about meeting a devotee for the first time, Zuko shifted from one foot to the other leaning on his rake.
They were staring at each other, measuring each other calmly. She was pale, dressed in the lucky reds that flame gods favored. Her hair was tied in two buns announcing that she was an unmarried female. Her eyes were light brown, close to hazel. She was, he supposed, beautiful in the way that the females in this particular part of the realm had labeled beauty. She had a blank expression as they both stood in front of each other.
"You should pray to the God of Tea instead," Zuko finally blurted out, uncomfortable with the staring match. He hadn't been scrutinized that way since he'd been a child. He'd been subject to many stares before, but not one quite as focused as this one.
"This is the shrine of the God of Perseverance, right?" the girl asked bewildered. Motioning to the small shrine. "Why should I pray to another god when I need perseverance?"
Zuko frowned, he couldn't very well say that he didn't have power any more. And her argument was sound. He just thought that she deserved to have her prayers answered for her devotion. "He's abandoned this place. He can't grant any more wishes."
"Maybe, or maybe you just abandoned your faith in him," the girl said softly before giving him a small bow and then leaving through the shrine gates.
Zuko stared after her.
oOo
Iroh watched Zuko closely as he moves in the tea god's shrine, doing little chores that as a flame god, as a prince, had been beneath him.[3] If there was one thing to be said about Zuko, it was that he worked hard. He was impatient, he was arrogant, but Zuko didn't stop until a task was done. Gods do not change easily because of the length of time that they've lived and will live, there was no impetus for change. But when they do, the changes were drastic.
He wondered if Zuko even noticed. Living by himself, trying to get his godhead, it brought the godling down a few notches.
He broached the sensitive topic over their evening tea session because he knew that the suggestion might anger Zuko. "Nephew, I know that trying to find your godhead has been a priority for you, but have you not considered living out the rest of your life as human instead of a god?" The higher realms was weaved in spirits and it was more awe-inspiring than the land of man. The land a god owned was formed by his will and his strength, his boundaries set by his powers and thus... limitless. There were kingdoms within kingdoms, and a god with enough power could form entire cities where lesser spirits could live if he had the temperament to do so. But there were skirmishes there, and an utter lack of law. There was corruption in a way that humans could not fathom.
"I have been a god all my life," Zuko said in a controlled, even voice. "If you strip that away from me, who am I? I cannot do that. I must regain my godhead."
Iroh sighed, stubbornness was also a weakness of the gods. When a god walks in the land of man, he is remembered more often than if he walks in the higher realms. A lot of the old gods have diminished from being lost in memory.
"I am a flame god, I am the God of Perseverance. I am the thirteenth dragon prince," Zuko stated the titles to reaffirm himself. That he was still a god despite lacking his godhead. That he was still a prince, despite not being able to become a dragon. That he was still flame even though he could not reach for his well. "I cannot give up because it has taken a human lifespan. If it takes me ten human lifespans to build the bridge to my core and dig my power well deep, then I will live ten human life spans in this land. But you cannot ask me to abandon this purpose. There is a reason why I am perseverance. It is not an empty title."
Iroh looked at his nephew in respect. Conviction like that does not usually come from their breed. They were fickle, and they were almost endless. Centuries of being alive and having almost unlimited power does not cultivate dedication. Iroh raised his tea cup to his nephew in salute.
Because he could do no less.
oOo
It was weeks before Zuko met the girl in his shrine again. He had continued his cautious watch on her when she was inside, but his current power was did not allow him to keep his watch on her beyond the shrine's vicinity. She came regularly, even after his warning. He hadn't been avoiding her exactly, he just wasn't comfortable meeting her again after her revelation.
She greeted him with nods, and he with a small wave that he had seen his uncle do when his uncle was faced with a devotee who thought he was human. Once when he was chopping branches from a low lying tree, she came to him with a puzzled expression on her face. "You look after everything here."
Although it was a statement and not a question, Zuko felt that he needed to respond. He stopped sawing and leaned against the ladder, looking down on her. "Most of the shrine spirits left with the god was... injured. He can't sustain them anymore."
She frowned. He wondered if it was over the shrine spirits, or because of the injury. "You're still here," she pointed out.
"I'm different," he agreed. Climbing down the ladder to meet her eye to eye. That and because it must have hurt her neck to look up at him from the ground. She had been the only person who'd stayed in the shrine for longer than the prayers. She'd certainly been the only person who tried talking to him, and he'd been working as the shrine's very visible guardian since he'd been banished.
There was a puzzled look in her eye. There was a small hesitation before she asked, "What are you?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. What to answer to that? He could lie, but it was a poor exchange for someone who has remained devoted for so long. He supposed he could answer that he was this shrine's god, but with the way he'd been persuading her to leave, he doubted she'd believe her. That and he hadn't seen any shrine gods do menial labor around their shrines. They had other spirits for that. "If I said I'm a blue spirit, would you believe me?"
She snorted in disbelief. "A blue spirit? In a flame god's hearth?"
Zuko smiled a little. Because it was that funny sometimes. "You don't believe me?"
"No. But I think you are a spirit," she agreed before, curiosity satisfied, she turned to walk away.
Zuko grimaced. She was just a shade of impertinent, coming up and asking what he was when she hadn't even extended the courtesy of informing him who she was. Once, he would have known just by virtue of her being in his land. But it was useless to think of things he'd lost.
Just as soon as he thought it, she turned back. "I'm Mai. I live in the city just west here. Thank you for keeping the shrine clean."
Zuko thought he should thank her. She was one of the reasons why he was still in this realm. If the God of Perseverance was forgotten by mortals before he regained his godhead, he as going to fade away as a wraith himself. It would take him longer than the spirits, but it would pass. "Zuko."
"What?"
"My name. It's Zuko," he said. A true name. Whispered to this mortal in his shrine. He had just impetuously handed her his life. He seriously doubted that it'd occur to her to exorcise him, but he had granted her means to do so.
She walked back to him again. They stood there together, facing each other, lost in another stare. He hadn't known what to say, he wasn't human enough to fill these pauses with inane conversation. She was content with staring. She was fond of these long stares, and he felt like she was having a wordless conversation with him, and he was not translating the words into actions. She had suddenly made a decision about him, and for the life of him, he didn't know what it was. She merely said, "Your eyes are like a serpent's."
Zuko blinked slowly. Finally understanding the reason she knew he was a spirit. He was a dragon, and his eyes could not hide him. He was a flame god, and his eyes were burnt amber. One of his eyes was human enough, he supposed, but the other was a true seeing eye because his father had taken his other one out. He could not change that aspect of his human guise. "I'm not a fox spirit."
"I didn't think you were," she tilted her head, as if trying to fit him in the categories of spirits that she knew. He had suddenly become a great puzzle to her, something that she wanted to figure out, to pass time and relieve boredom. "See you next week?"
"Next week," he affirmed. She nodded at his agreement and turned to walked away. It would be the beginning of many, many goodbyes shared between the two of them.
oOo
Zuko stoked the fire slowly as he chose which herbs he was going to use. He was in the shrine of the God of Tea. They had limitless amounts of what was required. He prepared the whisk and he meticulously measured the water and the leaves.
He noticed his uncle watching him from the sides. Zuko tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Do you plan to keep me boiling tea forever?"
Iroh leaned over and watched him with the tea and frowned. He looked at Zuko with a small smile and replied, "You will stop boiling tea, when you are ready to stop boiling tea."
Zuko was suddenly scared that his uncle would not be satisfied with any amount of work that he produced. When he had been asked to bake bread from nothing, there had been an objective goal. Solid evidence that he'd completed his task. Boiling good tea for his uncle was a completely different thing. "Forever is a long time for an immortal, uncle."
There was a puzzled look in his uncle's face as he looked from the preparation to Zuko. "Do you think you'll never be ready?"
Zuko took a deep breath. It went against everything in him to even think that he could not complete his task. But he'd learned things in this realm, and he was no longer as sure as he was when he first fell. "I don't know."
oOo
Through the months that Mai visited in his shrine, she gradually learned that he was all right with her practicing her knives against the rather large and dead tree gracing the side of his garden. She practiced it effectively and with single-minded purpose. He had asked her once why she chose them and she'd shrugged, saying that the knives were better than boredom, they were easily hidden in her clothes therefore easily tucked away before her mother saw them. That they had been pilfered from her uncle's weapon stash.
She wasn't talkative, but neither was he. They'd settled into companionship as if they've had always had it, in easy silence and shared labor. Zuko puttered around the shrine, and she hiding away from the world. He didn't ask for whatever reasons that she'd hidden from it. Shrines were sanctuaries, and it shouldn't matter what it was that you were running away from, as long as there was a place that welcomed.
Sometimes, she would sit down from throwing knives and watch him work. Sometimes, she would talk to him. From her, he learned the small intricacies of being human, the little things that couldn't be learned from watching. Sometimes she would ask questions. They never talked about their own homes, they had a tacit agreement not to, and both of them respected it.
Zuko did not understand her continuing devotion. He didn't understand the reason why she favored this shrine above all others. He didn't understand a lot of things about Mai. Sometimes he asked about it, "Why do you stay so long here? I mean, I understand the prayers, and the knives, but you stay well past those."
"Because it's not boring here. Because it's the only place my mother would allow me to go at any length of time without supervision," she said lightly. Zuko always knew there was a small tension between Mai and her mother. She readily talked about her brother and her father, but her mother was a topic that she didn't care for. She had been closer to her grandmother than her own mother. "Besides, we're in the shrine of the God of Perseverance. I need his blessings to be able to finish learning this, right?"
He watched her as she continuously tried to hit a small branch at one hundred paces. She was getting better with the knives, he could tell. She was hitting the target with greater frequency and she was more fluid with it. "You're capable of a great deal of things without the shrine god's blessings."
"I can't believe the god here lets you stay when you actively try to dissuade loyal devotees," she said in exasperation while letting knives fly from her fingertips in a measured pace. She finally hits a small branch and smiles in satisfaction. "Now if I could reproduce that while dancing."
Was he trying to turn her away? Was he trying to test her devotion? To know without any doubt that she believed? That she belonged to him? More than the fact that he didn't understand her, he didn't understand the need to understand either. It was a feeling he didn't examine too much. So he repeated her words instead, "While dancing?"
"Sure, I don't think enemies would really leave me to stand still."
There was truth in that. Zuko just didn't understand why she had to be dancing. "Just make sure I'm not near when you start that round of practice. And please, please try not to hit the incense rack."
She glared at him for even suggesting it. And then she began practicing again while he began raking leaves.
oOo
Their uneasy friendship began with an argument. Because he was stubborn that way, and so was she. Or maybe it was because he refused to do things the easy way. Mai called Zuko down from patching the shrine roof a lacquered box in hand, as she shielded her eyes from the glaring sun.
He jumped down from the roof and landed beside her in a swirl of dust. It had been an impressive feat for a human. She was a little annoyed at the little dust cloud that he'd generated but shoved the lacquered box into his hands and a set of chopsticks in another.
He looked at the offering with curiosity, wondering what the articles where when Mai settled down on her favorite stone bench under a large Royal Fire Tree. She gave an exasperated huff as she producing her own chopsticks from her sleeves and began eating from an identical box. "I don't cook very well... there are other people who cook for me, but I thought you always work hard and I've never seen you take a break."
Mostly because he was a god and he didn't need to take things like breaks and food. Of course, since his banishment, sometimes he took in some of the offerings to sustain him, and slept in the evenings. As with most human things he did lately, it was to conserve what little spirit he had access to. "Thanks," he murmured, wondering if he had deciphered her words right and she'd made the small box that was in front of him.
"You do ... eat, don't you?" Mai asked tentatively watching him from the stone chair.
Realizing that he'd been staring at the box for a while, he grinned at her and sat on a rock opposite her bench and opened the lunch she'd prepared. He opened his own box and tasted the food. It had too much salt and a lot of spices. He would have refused to eat it had he been served the dish before banishment. He swallowed it without much comment, dulling the salt with rice. "Sometimes."
It had been the right answer. She gave him one of her rare smiles before she ate again. They shared the entire meal in silence before she found another curiosity. "Why are your eyes unmatched?"
Zuko lifted his hand towards the left eye, gouged out by his father before falling into this realm. "It was a gate to a higher realm. I was banished." His father would have burned his face out, but had decided against it. Though a burning would take time to heal, Zuko was a god, he would still heal it. There would be no trace of the banishment if he had burnt. And he was a flame god, burning might not have worked. So his father had taken the eye instead. With the eye securely in Ozai's palm, Zuko could not effectively heal it.
"My mother just tells me to be quiet and don't disgrace the family," she sounded bitter when she said it. But she looked back at his eye with a small contemplative frown, "But I guess mine can't compare to yours. Can you still see in that eye?"
"It's an eye of a dragon," Zuko explained, which was in itself, not an explanation at all. His right eye was his spirit eye. His left eye, 'human'. It made for wonderful dizzying colors, and different parallelisms. Humans just don't understand how many realms are hidden within their own. Sometimes, it unbalanced him when he saw two different things at once.
They were silent for a time as they ate. Then, trading her stories for his, she tells him, "My grandmother used to come here with me, when I was small. She was very devoted to the shrine god because she'd been barren for so long. She just wanted a child and he'd granted her one, and then with my parents came me.
My parents, well they weren't very religious. But my grandmother had promised the god to visit always if she'd be given a son. That's why I visit. Because I had to keep my grandmother's pact."
Zuko frowns a little trying to remember if he'd granted this prayer, but seeing Mai he estimated that her father was maybe in his late thirties. Unless her father was more than eighty years, he doubted he had any hand in the miracle of the birth. The pregnancy had happened after his banishment and it was something that he had not bestowed, no matter how many incense sticks were lit. "I'm not sure your grandmother's faith on him is deserved. There have been no miracles granted by this shrine in a while."
Mai stood up abruptly, taking the empty box from his hand and wrapping it in a large handkerchief that she'd used to carry the lunches to him. Mai was not prone to show emotion with words, but he felt her anger in waves. She had a way of conveying her words through the slant of her eyes, the move of her shoulders. Mai did not spend time talking about what she was, she just was. A small vein was pulsating on the base of her neck that showed the anger, and the flash of her eyes were strong. Somehow, he'd angered her with the careless words.
He tried to apologize, but he was still a god, and apologies did not come naturally to him. "I just don't believe you should put all your faith in this god and his miracles."
"You don't make sense. You spend time under this god's grace and yet you're here undermining his work. You work here but you don't believe," Mai whispered as she stood up. They'd never understood each other. They always disagreed especially when it came to the prayers. "Did you even think, did you even wonder, that maybe though this shrine's god didn't grant a miracle, this place gave her the strength to continue trying? It matters. This place matters."
That was the longest words he'd heard strung together from Mai. The most passion that she had seen flare in her eyes.
He was struck with the words, and he realized after all of this time, that he'd just been living, he was still being guided with what to do, that he had continued existing but hadn't begun to think for himself.
And this girl had brought him painfully aware of it.
But more than the words, he was unnerved by the faith she put in him. A god so many had abandoned, even by his own father, had been defended by this girl. What do you say to someone who has believed unconditionally in you for their whole lives? What can you say to someone who didn't want to see the ugly truths and the character flaws?
"I just don't see why you put so much stock in the God of Perseverance," he tried to explain. He couldn't find the words when he couldn't believe. "I don't see why he's special."
"I don't think you quite appreciate the meaning of faith," Mai whispered. Faith. Another human concept. Gods don't need to believe, they just know. Zuko realized he missed that. The certainty of his existence. Now, here in this realm, there was doubt because he was not god enough to know. He had been a fool not to realize that he wasn't just a banished god, he was more human than spirit.
"Mai -" She started walking away. He ran after her. He didn't know how to make it right. He wasn't human enough to know how to make it right. He ran his hand through his short hair. "Are you coming next week?"
She stopped. Closed her eyes then heaved a sigh. "Yes, of course. I made a promise to my grandmother to come here. I'll be here regardless of you."
"Okay," Zuko said, calm now that he hadn't completely destroyed her faith in him because he found that he needed someone to believe. Because he couldn't believe in himself. "Okay, Mai. See you next week."
oOo
He was preparing the tea formally today. Zuko looked at his uncle wondering if he underwent the motions well enough. He had heard that humans tried to study the formal tea ceremony for ages. It had lasted for longer than the usual boil and served that he'd been accustomed to, and though his body didn't ache necessarily, there was a little strain from sitting on his legs for too long.
He heard an appreciative murmur from his uncle, and Zuko relaxed in visible relief. Good tea. He was able to make good tea today. Maybe not as good as his uncle's retainers, but well enough.
"Tell me, my prince, what have you learned?" a similar questioned echoed that his uncle asked him from time to time.
He'd answered flippantly before, sometimes he'd answered with a grunt. He opened his mouth to make another inane comment but his uncle looked at him with a seriousness that made Zuko pause. Maybe now would be the best time to tell his uncle that he wasn't content in making tea anymore.
"I realize that to steep tea too long would make it bitter. Not long enough and it would leave it bland..." Zuko started, and he wondered if tea metaphors was the way he wanted to talk to his uncle. "All this time, I've been the water, and I've been absorbing the knowledge you've given me. But I think I need to find my own way. It may not be the right way, it might not be the sure way, but it is my own."
He raised his eyes towards his uncle. "I don't want to steep here too long and become bitter. I think-" he hesitated, took a deep breath before he continued, "I think it's time I stopped boiling tea."
"Ahh, my nephew." Iroh put the tea cup down before he stood up and motioned for Zuko to follow him. They passed the shrine's kitchen towards the inner sanctum of Iroh's shrine, where his own eternal flame was burning brightly. Near it, was a small tree, with contorted branches and growing in a heavily zigzagging pattern. It had several curved thorns, and when it flowered it was adorned with white flowers kissed with pink stamens. "You know this plant?"
"The Flying Dragon," Zuko named it touching one of the fruits, most of which were still green while one was already ripening early, already orange with a downy covering.
Iroh picked the ripe fruit and handed it to Zuko. "It's time for you to stop boiling tea, my nephew."
And with a dismissive wave from Iroh, Zuko found himself in front of his own inner sanctum, in front of his sacred fire. Both Meifeng and Jiang appeared in front of him, in human form flanking the sacred flame. Zuko offered the orange to the sacred flame, watching the fruit sacrifice feed the fire slowly.
"I don't understand," Zuko murmured as he watched the bitter orange with the intensity that was his by nature.
"Maybe, my lord," Meifeng whispered, still kneeling and witness to the event. "Maybe Lord Iroh wanted you to realize that here, in the land of man, no one makes your choices for you."
"For the first time, in the longest while, you are free," Jiang agreed.
"And it took a little over eighty years of boiling tea to do that?" Zuko quipped flexing his boundaries, testing the strength that the offering had given him. There was something new forming. The offering was a strand of fire that would start the bridge towards his spirit. It also gave him a shallow well. Shallower than before he fell, but it was a start.
"It took you eighty years of serving the Fire Lord, the God of War, the Dragon of the West, the God of Tea," Jiang repeated, "But it also took work with your own two hands with minimal power."
Zuko wondered if his mother had imparted with her gifts her wisdom. "I didn't achieve anything when he granted me his boon."
"On the contrary, my lord," Meifeng whispered as she slowly stood up, her brother mirroring her actions. "You realized what he wanted you to see. You have proven, that even banished -"
"You are not worthless," they both finished.
Zuko closed his eyes he wondered if his uncle really thought he had changed that much. Shaking his head, he nicked a vein on both wrists motioning for the two of them to come forward. It was time to replenish the swords' spirits as well.
oOo
With the strand of fire bridging him back to his spirit, he learned he could pull more and at least store some of his power. The well that was accessible to him was shallower than he was used to, but at least he wasn't as powerless as before. He hadn't broken down to basic blessings. He could control his fire as well as he could before he was banished and that was good enough for him sometimes. He had missed the fire and its burn.
He still couldn't take the form of the dragon and he still couldn't make a bridge that crosses from his shrine to the higher spirit realms, but he wasn't useless and he had regained some of his godhead. He hadn't expanded the rooms in the shrine, just to save energy because he didn't have a retinue to keep anyway.
And at least, he could answer some prayers now. Not impossible feats of miracles, and truly even those are rarely granted by the major gods, but at least a little girl asking to find her cat, a homeless man asking for warmth. It was easier to grant requests that were within his realm, heat and perseverance, but he had known that. It was within his first sphere. Things were going well.
There was hope.
Mai came to the shrine regularly. It didn't matter if it rained or not. She was there, present with her prayers. She was the marker for his time now that he didn't need to visit his uncle. When she came, it meant that a week had passed of him relearning his fire. That he should visit his uncle for the next day to show his respect.
They hadn't talked since she'd given him lunch.
He realized that he'd missed it, there was no other contact in his shrine besides his Dao swords, and they couldn't express themselves well if he wasn't fighting. Not unless they took human form, and that was going to put a strain on his spirit if even if he could access some power from his well. So he learned to live without conversation.
From their suggestion, he brought them out once a week and trained with them with forms. He didn't use fire bending, but the sword forms flowed from one to the next. And when he used them, they gave him impressions of their thoughts. That they were fine. That they thought the shrine was doing well, regardless of the lack of devotees and spirit retainers. That the girl who was throwing knives against the bark was pretty and she was talented.
He stopped abruptly when he realized he'd lifted a sword on Mai's day of worship. Previously, limited himself to shrine work when she was present, never training, but he had lost track of time. She'd dropped the knives and had been watching him wield the twins.
"I'm still angry at you, you know," Mai said then waved her hands indicating him and his sword form, "You're not going to impress me with showing me how good you are with the sword."
Zuko grinned as he sheathed the twin blades. Had that been posturing? The twins were silent in their sheaths. "You're allowed to be angry at me."
She frowned, as if insulted that he'd allowed her anything. "You are an idiot."
He ignored the insult. Sometimes, his uncle said, humans do not mean what they say. And he had found out early on that Mai might say something, but she always meant another. "Thank you for coming."
"I don't really come for you, jerk," another insult slid past her lips as she watched him approach. He wondered where she picked up the insults, she was a lady and she was probably sheltered. But she was combative with him, and he let it pass, because she actually seemed to enjoy insulting him.
This was the time to tell her the truth. They were friends, of sorts, weren't they? He felt like he should tell her that she was actually praying to him. But suddenly, his mortal heart felt heavy, because he realized she might stop coming. She was the only one that talks to him besides his uncle, she was one of his strongest devotees and ... the moment for truth passed.
"Stop being a dork and tell me what your spirit form is," she ordered, because that had always been the coin between the two of them. One story for another. One question for a debt. She wanted the story of his spirit form for his forgiveness.
He'd looked away then, genuine pain flickering through his eyes. When he looked back at her, there was a look of worry on her face. She was wondering, if for the first time, she'd overstepped her bounds. "It's been locked away. I can't access it anymore. I'm cursed. I've forgotten my form because it hurts to remember."
She looked uneasy for a while. "All right. You could fight me with the Dao against my knives," she offered the alternative to him with a small hesitant smile.
"I'm leaving for Ba Sing Se next week." It was a complete shift from their conversation, so she frowned. He hadn't wanted her to worry if he couldn't come back to the shrine when he traveled. He wasn't sure if the trip to Ba Sing Se was worth the expenditure of his power. "I need to talk to the Goddess of Justice."
"She'll see you?" There was surprise in her face, and then quickly hidden dismay.
"Hopefully," he mumbled. He hoped she remembered that they'd been almost like brother and sister once at the Academy. There had been apprenticeships before the Academy but gods easily forgot their own apprentices in caprice. Zuko hoped even though he was banished, Toph would remember him.
"You're leaving this shrine forever, then? Seeking new employment?" she was suddenly moving her hand opening and closing. The movement was still slow, still measured, because Mai only moved with speed when she was wielding her knives and fighting, but there was a frantic element in her eyes.
He frowned, he hadn't even thought she'd see it that way. "No, no. I just need to ask a favor for the God of Perseverance from the goddess."
The nervous tick stopped, as she looked at him incredulously, like she hadn't understood what he was. "You're a messenger now?"
"I'm the only one in this shrine now," he reminded her. He hadn't actually answered her question, sometimes the gods were forbidden to lie to their devotees. It was difficult to move around that. And he doubted that he would be given the Earth's token if he sent a messenger. He would have to pass a test, maybe stay in Ba Sing Se for long periods of time. He wondered if she'd be kind enough to expend some power on him to send him to his shrine every week like his uncle had.
"Okay... Come home safely,"
"Of course."
"See you... ahh, see you soon?"
"Soon."
Author's Notes:
I wrote this three years ago, in the hopes that it would be epic and that people would follow it. Alas I came into fanfiction of the Avatar world too late, and there's too little following for it anymore. (Plus the fact that despite Maiko being canon, not a lot of people actually follow Maiko)
As such, it has stayed dormant in my hard drive for a long long long time. That being the case, I decided to release it to the world because a) I wanted con crit because English is not my first language b) I wanted to know if people are still actually interested in it and c) I was wondering if anyone wanted to collaborate with me for it?
I need drive to finish fics, and keeping it in my hard drive will not equal drive. So thank you for reading. Kudos are welcome, but comments and e-mail will drive the fic forward.