Unspoken Against My Honor
Prologue
Prince Zuko's childhood consisted of obtuse dreams in the royal quarters. They made him feel awful, because while the others dreamed of a war's end painted red, his visions made no sense. The natural teasing due to their absurdity came mostly from his sister and Ty Lee. Mai was almost supportive. Neither his father nor the adults knew, and he could do nothing besides hope that they'd keep their mouths shut enough. He was justly ridiculed, Azula said at five years of age, for those dreams which insisted upon a focus on two beings, neither one fire nation, or even nobility.
One was a water tribe girl who was strong somehow, and powerful, and a beast rider. There was a certain kinship he shared with her: what it was, he did not know - he only fathomed how her eyes managed to glow so brightly. The same went for the nationless man, fused with what seemed to be a glowing white kite.
"Quintessential and absurd," the court's older children laughed. Peasants and kites? Where were the heroes, the dragon slayers?
So there it stood, absurd. Everyone he talked with described those nights that way, besides his uncle. Iroh was the upper class lover of peace and Pai-Sho, a selfless romantic who quietly urged him to hope.
Alas, Zuko's hope died the day his face burned.
x~x
Years later, his imagination still permeated, though it had long been choking on embers. He had learned the worst way that hope was futile - it was ambition and power over others which fueled success. The unexpected, however, was set in motion when the Avatar, ever a child, like he used to feel, unmasked the Blue Spirit as dusk closed curtain. After a chase gone horribly wrong, the last Airbender, with much to learn about politics still, voiced his opinion.
He thought that they could make great friends.
Exhausted, Zuko didn't know what to do, besides remember exactly what to do. "Maybe in another life," the banished royalty breathed back, feeling dropped china shattered. His legs hurt, as did his head. Everything felt broken. "Don't say another word."
Aang and the Moon watched over him that night, both unaware of a third party, lurking within the shadows of the former's memories.
x~x
The incarnation sat silently, and the First Avatar stared on, pondering for a loophole.
Avatar Wan thought less like a bridge and more like a tourist, a seeker who recalled a different story when spirits roamed a young earth. He had ruined the precious balance between light and dark, deciding to change the world itself by exorcising the human plane. Everyone saw it coming, really. Why? Because Wan emulated the most important human characteristics towards his endgame - honesty and selfishness,
(and an honest man gained selfish eyes, which help him see the truth.
The truth says, "Save his soul. He's lost. Save his soul before he burns like Jaya."
"What can I do though? What-)
Wan knew he'd been selfish and rightfully forgotten. Zuko's greatest faults remained due to the realm that he indirectly created.
"Show him the drowned, forgotten ones."
"I will."
But he didn't owe him alone - Aang wasn't the only adventurous quadruple elemental bender.
x~x
Choose wisely, she'd said, so he did.
Azula shrieked like a wolfbat and dodged as he spun on his toes, sending a decent sized fireball towards her form instead of the Avatar's. In his defense, the embers weren't all that heated. Manipulative sociopathic princess or not, she was still his sister. But as Aang's little group cheered and Uncle smiled approvingly, the newfound opponent was rather unforgiving of Zuko's changed sentiments. She seethed, and entered that fateful stance.
The remaining battle would, in the future, be recounted a mere blur – here, it was imperative destiny. Zuko changed to a complimenting attack position, and the siblings charged.
Ever quick, Azula started to attack before he could blink. She shot a snaking stream of lightning out at the prince. Luckily, Zuko had long learned to react before blinking and slid out of harm's way, not presently confident in his deflecting abilities. Palm's grounded, he vaulted upwards and returned to standing, making a note to remain more vigilant in the process. Meanwhile, the princess sprinted straight at her brother, who into turned blocked the incoming blasts.
Around him, the others resolved to do battle with her lackeys, avoiding earth-crafted, deathly chunks of rock as their personal battle exploded into a volcano that both ally and enemy experienced firsthand. Heat drove them back, creating an arena around both potential heirs to the Fire Nation's Throne. Azula continued to barrage him with the wicking blue weapon. Right hand, left hand, right hand again, he noted, managing barely to keep up. He, obtusely, kept it heated in standard red.
No. Punches were not worth trying, and palmed burning streams were being shot within close quarters. Desperation grew, and Zuko frowned while remaining in combat, as her confident smirk morphed into something much more sinister. What was she planning?
Then he saw it. The electric buildup, and the airbender beginning to glow a pale light –
"NO!" he screamed silently, and ran, pushing his former prey from the incoming shock.
The bolt had struck at his central torso, knocking both the wind and life from the boy. He panted, though he couldn't find the means to inhale. Somewhere, somebody screamed.
He stung, sweated, simmered, and finally his body gave out.
x~x
His happiness vanishes in the conflagration.
"In a world where a bridge between two vastly different worlds exists as a living being, your demise means nothing."
...Well, it sure FELT like something. Where was that voice coming from? Even in death, fate seemed to be mocking him, the motherless, lifeless prince.
Death, however, did not want Zuko.
Not yet.
x~x
