I have always loved the series Avatar but have never taken the time to write anything for this amazing cartoon. My favorite character is Zuko, his personality and journey is so complex and wonderfully orchestrated. I was always fascinated with this episode, there is so much emotion and such a chilling dynamic between the characters that I simply had to write a tribute for it. I hope you enjoy my work and please leave a review.
Avatar: The Last Airbender (c) Nickelodeon and the shows prospective owners, I claim no ownership.
Brass trumpets blared as confetti wavered in the air, the sweet petals and cream tinged parchment hovering down until the particles swept across the impressive arena in a flurry of color and wind.
The form of a young boy knelt at the other end of the spectrum, his head bowed; the silky expanse of his ink black hair trailing over the side of a single, ivory shoulder. Confident and proud, excited to be competing to prove his countrymen's value, worth and loyalty to the Fire Nation, the young boy remained in his crouched position, patiently waiting to receive a signal to commence the highly anticipated event.
Suddenly, the pulsating echo of a large, metallic disk upon being struck resounded throughout the auditorium, silencing the crowd who had only moments ago been feverishly alive, chattering with zest and apprehension. The kneeling boy used a single forearm to push himself into a standing position, the ceremonial sash tied about his shoulder blades ripped away and fluttering to the ground as he turned to face his opponent.
In the instant it took to withhold the site of his adversary, everything the confident price knew came to a reeling collision. His heart stopped, lurching to a halt at the image of his father, enthroned in all his magnificent glory, residing at the apex of the coliseum with a face cold as chiseled marble.
The sound of the gong chimed again, inaugurating the official beginning to the challenge with booming vibrations that sent tremors racing through the young prince's core. His breath caught in his throat as he viewed his father arise from his gilded throne in the distance, only to watch the poised man stalk towards him like a panther surveying its prey.
"F-Father?" Zuko heard the informal title fall unbidden from his lips, bewildered that his opponent was of his own flesh and blood.
"It is I. Arise and face me, Prince Zuko."
Dumbfounded, Zuko's jaw hung open, not knowing what to do or to say to explain that he had no idea that the course of participating as a noble prince within an assembly of elders would have led him to this precarious conclusion.
"Please, Father." He inhaled sharply, taking a step towards the intimidating figure rapidly approaching the location where his feet were rooted steadfastly into the ground in extreme shock,
"I-I only had the Fire Nation's best interest at heart. I-I'm sorry I spoke out of turn!" A younger and unscarred prince of fourteen years kneeled down before his father, the Fire Lord, on the cool and emotionless tile of the Agni Kai stadium.
Zuko bit his lower lip, swallowing his pride as he lay there, prostrated before the most powerful individual in his known universe. He lay there, trembling in shame due to an uneasy sensation spreading throughout his stomach, knowing that nearly half of his subjects, men and women of all ages and classes within the mighty nation of fire, were collectively peering judgmentally out at his submissive figure while he nervously awaited his father's decision.
"You will fight for your honor, Zuko." The cold and unforgiving voice of his father, Fire Lord Ozai, replied.
Further still the prince knelt, touching his forehead apologetically to the marble tile in complete compliance to the custom of his land's method of expressing one's highest level of sincere apology and regret.
"I meant you no disrespect; I am your loyal son." Zuko pleaded, his voice tightening with strained emotion as he gazed up at his father's face, seeking a sign of pity or mercy. However, he found nothing but a stern wall, empty and unforgiving as brick.
Tears emerged at the rim of the prince's golden eyes. A single drop of liquid escaped to trail down an unblemished, porcelain cheek while the dark featured youth begged and pleaded his lord, master and king to revoke his shame; crying out in disregarded to his father for forgiveness.
"Rise and fight, Prince Zuko." Came the taunt demand of his father, rolling out like a clap of thunder. Pure disgust and anger shone upon the immaculate Fire Lord whose appearance became contorted as he stared in revulsion at the pitiful body strewn before his feet.
"I will not fight you." Zuko resolutely announced; his voice firm and resolved as he bowed his head lower onto the alabaster stone.
Ozai's eyes flashed, resilient contempt burning within his orbs at his son, whom he viewed to be making a mockery of him before many of the esteemed members of his kingdom. "How dare that insolate brat! His inadequacy alone nullifies his ability to bear the weight of my crown, let alone his unworthiness to be known as my son shall fester me up within ruin." These ill-conceived thoughts solidified, Ozai resorted to instituting a punishment he was sure that his pathetic excuse for a son would never forget.
"You shall learn a lesson in respect…," A long stride brought him within inches of his son's cowering figure, his gaze as hard as iron, "And suffering will be your teacher!" Fire Lord Ozai spat as he hauntingly beheld his only son with utmost disdain.
Iroh, from his cushioned seat in the west wing of the stadium watched in horror at the scene unfolding before his deep brown eyes, wishing to tear them away from the gruesome and barbaric portrayal of obedience and respect demanded towards the Phoenix King. Uncomfortably he shifted, noticing the jeers, the ghostly apparitions crying to be appeased, the shouts of encouragement and those holding their breath in anticipation for the final blow to strike.
The world passed silently to the old, graying man. The desire of a wish passed into his mind, for an aspiration for the ability to achieve something he was not capable of completing himself had in that moment, become something truly to desire. The wish-to remove his nephew from this forsaken pit of humility and shame. The wish-to have revoked the young prince's allowance to attend the meeting of the warlords on that fateful day, despite his better judgment. The simple wish to shut his honey brown orbs and block out the shriek of misery from his ears until the punishment was over bubbled from the very core of his being the second he heard the blood-curdling scream emit from the boy's lungs, the very same boy he viewed as his own son. But just as fickle as wishes are, nothing could have prevented the retired general from having the memory of his kin's pain scorched into his heart forever.
The furies of hell itself settled upon Ozai's flaming hand as it aimed for Zuko's unaware face and made contact with skin, fine and untouched skin blackening to a crisp and mottling under the intense heat. Triumphantly, he pinioned the struggling form of his son within his forearms, his dark hazel irises absorbing the image of the boy, his body wracked with the effort of unhinged sobbing and how the youth uselessly pressed against his father's pale skin in the dire plead for release. Fire glinted reflectively within Ozai's eyes while the opposing eyelid of his child screwed shut simultaneously as the slender torso beneath him writhed in agony, desperately struggling to be set free to no avail.
The harsh grasp around the bridge of his nose seemed to have shattered the bone with the amassing pressure and conductive flame, breaking marrow along with searing away the tender folds of skin surrounding Zuko's left eye. Within the inferno of misery and brilliant fire, the young prince felt himself enveloped within the blaze of heat, which seemed to cascade his broken body and spirit into the shrouded presence of an immortal light, refining the man he was to become by the flame of his father's wrath.
Then it was over, embers sizzling along with his tarnished flesh as he was left on that God-forsaken stage, his body aching as he crumpled flat onto the unforgiving alabaster stone. Alone and abandoned by the man he desired to be loved and accepted by more than anything in the world, he lay gasping, helpless for oxygen to swell in to his lungs in order to faintly expel the wrenching pain charring his once flawless complexion.
Confused and emotionally wounded beyond repair, the young prince curled into himself and let his weak body rock slowly back and forth in pained moans. His prior existence caved out from beneath him, all he could manage to do was to breathe; heaving with the waves of remorse and betrayal as the tide of agony washed over his figure. Drenched in the spray of self-pity while equally being refined by fire, he was left on the floor; blinking into the sunlight with his unmarred eye as a new creation.