- Lost Rose -

I

We do not die because we have to die; we die because one day, and not so long ago, our consciousness was forced to deem it necessary.

- Antonin Artaud (1896 - 1948)

The sun was staring with an intense glare on the Fire Nation. It was just a bit past noon, and the shadows were barely pointing east. It was quiet, save for the sound of the wind against the hollow ridges and rolling fields of roses in the distance...

Fire Nation tradition had never allowed the body to be hidden from sight. For as the fire needs the open air to stay alive, so to does the body upon the departure of the soul. The body was also alighted so that the warmth and hope that the person encompassed would radiate and be passed on to the children. Such is the nature of fire, to expose the love within the heart of a person and diffuse it among those that are around.

Cascaded by fine white linen, rolled and folded around her body, she lay still on the bed of red cedar branches. On her were the white leaves of the volcanic flower. Above and around her personal pier were golden pillars and a marble roof with Fire Nation emblems of ages old adorning the faces.

Ozai had never seen her so still before. Lifeless she lay there. Even though tradition would breathe life into her death, tradition would never allow her to grasp his hand again. His wife, his love, was dead. He could still feel her though, her ambient nature still flowed like a silk cloth in the air. He breathed out deeply to help calm the storm within him. Her only presence now lay with her children.

Azula, her 11 year old daughter, was watching with closed eyes. What could she see? A woman who carried her for 9 months, and laboriously gave birth to her after intense agony, was gone. Everything she could see was black, so closing her eyes made no difference. She would still be looking, but only into the darkness. Instead of being rewarded life eternal for her struggle and her pain, she was dead. Her hands were limp and would no longer wipe the tears away. Her body was unmoving and would no longer provide her with encircling arms and a loving heart when she needed them most. Her face was still and would no longer provide the kisses before she went to sleep. She had no one else now, except for her father and her brother.

Zuko, her 15 year old son, was broken. He stood straight, but his heart was torn. A part of himself had left him. A part of himself was forever missing. To Zuko, it was as if a star had sunk into the ocean, lost in the darkness of Goliath's Crevice. ...no, it wasn't like that. She was not lost in darkness. She was the moon, brightly shining in the dark sky, hanging among the stars. But even when the moon would not shine, he could still see her. The vane narcissistic pride that took over all young men of royal garbs would no longer latch onto him. For when he looked into his face in the mirror, he could see her eyes staring back at him with its piercing dawn-like hue.

Zuko could recall the last few days easily now. How couldn't he?

Her death was Cardiac Arson. Her heart had alighted on fire and ceased to pump the blood through her veins, killing her. However, no one knew what could have triggered it. It was as if death had lost an opportunity prior and intended to make his due before leaving back into the dark. In other words, it was unexpected. Cardiac Arson was a condition that was derived from a family of sicknesses whose symptoms weren't easy to hide. But Ursa wasn't sick. She shouldn't have died this way...

But the feeling of anger he had paled in comparison to the fear he had seen in Azula's eyes the day they had found her dead in the garden. They were upstairs playing when they heard the servants scream out for medical assistance. It was when they ran to the window that they could see her, holding two flowers in one hand, clutching her chest with the other. Her eyes were open in pain, and her mouth was positioned for a scream. Ozai was over her, trying to pump life back into her, but it was no use. Zuko remembered running downstairs but their father had barred them from seeing the horror. He managed to see a nurse closing his mother's eyes and her mouth and placing a cloth over her head.

Azula's eyes...red rimmed...the black hole in the middle was utterly sucking the soul out of her...Zuko recalled her scream, the blood-curdling scream that burst his ears. His only reaction was to shield her from the view and hug her as tight as he could as she sobbed and screamed for her dead mother.

He looked up to see his father staring down at them. Just a few days prior, Ozai's own father, Azulon, had died of old age. Ownership of the crown had been passed down from Azulon to Iroh. However, Iroh and his son Lu Ten were fighting the war at Ba Sing Se, so the crown was again passed down, temporarily, to Ozai, so that he could watch over the Fire Nation. Ozai looked back at the body. As the Fire Lord, he could not afford to be seen as weak, and Zuko knew that the one tear he saw rolling down his father's cheek would be the last he would ever see of it again.

It had been a few days since then. Zuko was still staring at his mother's body and Azula still had her eyes closed. Their father had indeed grown more further apart from them. He left them to handle the loss themselves while he himself moved faster than before to accelerate the war efforts, leaving Azula to rely heavily on Zuko's comfort. Though Zuko did oblige, he was unfortunately consumed by the confusion of Ursa's death and so could not concentrate on his sister.

The sun was still shining brightly though. The course of the day still did not change. The difference was that the nation was quiet. They were observant as all the shops and stores were closed. People lined the streets, watching in deep regret as their empress was to return to the earth that she had once come from.

There was one disturbance in Zuko's head. It hit him from the right. Zuko turned and looked in the distance. He and his family were standing on the highest floor where the royals were incinerated after death. He had a vantage point. Over the west wall, hidden from view by the rest of the people, a strange man sat on the edge of a small opening to an underground lava path, staring intently at him with a dark smile. Though Zuko could not hear him, the words hit him like thunder, "I...I have done my duty...No one will know for I have done my duty!" Zuko was stunned and was even more stunned when he saw the stranger disappear into the flowing lava...he would have screamed out at the man...had the event not been so unnatural...Zuko hid his shock and knew he could not abruptly break the silence of the funeral, but he'd address the situation when all this had passed.

Just at that time, a Federal Priest appeared, solemn and calm. He handed Ozai the torch, who then placed his hand on Azula's shoulder, opening her eyes. She tried to back away, but Zuko wouldn't let her. He held her hand, feeling the shivers go from her spine to his, and placed it over their father's. Together they lit the red cedars on fire and watched as her body disappeared into the flames. Their life was wordless today...