From the Ashes a Fire Shall be Woken
The ocean itself roughly lapped against the eastern shore of the Fire Nation, the summer swells bursting heartily against the black sands that dotted the beaches of the Grand Capital, the sun beginning to set down behind the western mountains painting the sky and ground in a pink and orange hue. The gulls and hawks darted down and up from the water's surface, hoping to ease their hunger with the koi and carp that populated the waters this time of year.
One such falcon, its plumage red with a gold streak running from head to tail, dove from an enormous height, grabbing a fairly large carp in its talons and retreating back towards the city, its direction towards the dormant volcano that housed the imperial summer residence evident. As it flew away, the royal seal could be clearly seen upon a ribbon tied to its leg, warning any that might have thoughts of roasted fowl for an evening meal that this particular specimen was not on the menu.
On a balcony overlooking the sea, the falcon landed on the outstretched arm of Fire Lord Zuko, who then relieved the bird of his prey, quickly and easily handing it to a nearby servant.
"Take this down to the kitchens, no doubt they can find a place for it in tonight's dinner."
"At one, your highness." The servant replied, hastily vanishing indoors as Zuko turned to his pet falcon, stroking his head gently with two fingers.
"Good job Zashun," Zuko whispered. "I'll be sure you get a very nice portion of that carp for later, don't you worry." Zashun merely looked at him with an air of content boredom, proud to have been of service but quickly tiring of the praise.
Zuko had taken up falconry just two months ago, but he was already beginning to appreciate the calming effect it seemed to have on him. He had taken up the hobby as a way to occupy his time in the aftermath of his catastrophic relationship with Mai, who had returned to her family's personal estates not long after. All in all, he hadn't been anywhere near as depressed as he had expected, in fact feeling a sort of bizarre relief and a renewed interest in not only his nation, but in his own personal happiness as well. Mai, he soon realized, had been exactly as he said on Ember Island, 'Just one big Blah.'
"Well my friend," he spoke again to the falcon, looking out over the sunset, seeing a black dot beginning to grow larger on the eastern horizon, "I think that I had best get myself prepared. It looks as if the guest of honor will be arriving soon."
He easily opened the door to his personal chambers and slipped inside, releasing Zashun from his arm so the falcon could make his way back to its private berth in the aviary.
Zuko immediately stripped and went into his bath, quickly cleaning himself up in the warm water that had been prepared just minutes beforehand. He then slipped out and got dressed, garbing himself in his finest red and gold silks, simply adjusting the crown upon his head so it settled better upon his hair. Zuko examined himself in the mirror, sighed, and went out to greet his guests.
Zuko had changed a bit in the 2 years since the end of the war, allowing his hair to grow out and down to his waist as was Fire Lord custom. His scar had faded a little bit more, the flesh still noticeably pinker against his fair complexion. All in all, these features, combined with his status as the ruler of the most industrious nation on the planet, had served to make him one of the most eligible bachelors, if not the most, in the entire world. But behind his golden eyes, he carried the knowledge and experience of a man twice his age. At the mere age of 19, he had seen sights that the world's greatest adventurers and explorers had never managed to see, had done things some of the most highly decorated men in the military and nobility had never done – would never be able to do.
As he made his way to the Palace courtyard, he couldn't help but think about how long it had been since he last saw the Avatar and his friends. The last time they had all been together was nearly a year ago, at Uncle Iroh's shop in Ba Sing Se. They had all been together, enjoying each other's company, sampling the delicious and exotic teas his uncle had made. During all of this, Zuko couldn't help but notice as Aang slipped out onto the balcony, and he also noted that Katara followed soon after. He would have followed them, seen what they were up to, and might have even prevented it, but Mai chose that moment to latch onto his arm and beg him to take her for a walk around the city. Looking sullenly at the then empty doorway, he had consented.
Now, a year later, the whole Gaang had reunited to come see him, to celebrate the second anniversary of his reign – and of Ozai's defeat at Aang's hands.
The man didn't really do much other than stare at the wall of his cell nowadays. After the first few weeks, he had stopped banging on the bars, screaming at the guards about how he was their rightful lord, not that upstart disgrace of a son. This wasn't because he no longer thought that, of course, but more because he realized that his son, although a fool and a traitor, was nowhere near stupid enough to place guards whose loyalty was in question around his most important and potentially dangerous prisoner. He was also willing to admit that the anguished and furious screams that ripped through the tower had plagued his nights, preventing him from having much energy to keep up his loud rants for long.
At least the boy shows some measure of respect, he thought, his eyes following a particularly large spider-roach as it expanded its web. The boy doesn't dare beat me, even to glean information about his whore of a mother. Or perhaps its his weakness that prevents him from doing it. That weakling the Avatar has polluted his mind with pacifistic dribble. I'll bet he doesn't even eat meat anymore, and I wouldn't be surprised if he came down here one day with a shaved head and those heathen tattoos, to tell me he's leaving to lead the life of an Air Monk! The man continued to watch as a fly became trapped in the pseudo-arachnid's web, the bug being instantly set upon by the much larger spider-roach.
Why is it, I wonder, that these fools no longer listen? Have they forgotten what we were? What we ARE? We are Fire, we are the greatest element, the true masters of this world! We are as that spider, the predator, the dominant race. We feed upon the lower, the heathenish, the barbaric other peoples that poison the world every moment that they are allowed to defy us! We must show them their place, and grind them beneath our heel! It is our right, it is our destiny, it is-
His train of thought was interrupted as the screams began again, the voice that called them shrill and harsh. He quickly covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. No, not again. Not when I am finally at peace!
At one point the screams had been words, the voice commanding and noticeably feminine. It cursed the guards, much as Ozai did, demanding that they release her, swearing oaths about what its owner would do to the offending guards when she regained her freedom. But now, after so long alone in the dark, they merely became soundless cries, brought along by the madness that now gripped her mind, the same madness that had always lingered at the fringes of her family's mind. Most had been able to at least contain it, channel it into their political and military dealings, using it to their advantage. And she had, for a time, until the betrayal of the only two people she had ever really trusted. After that, she had only him, and their relationship wasn't one of trust, merely of respect and duty; of command and loyalty; of master and pupil; of Father and daughter.
Listen to her, the ex-noble thought again, finally able to block out the anguished cries. She was to be the greatest of my lieutenants once, the most trusted of my advisors. She lost everything as surely as I did, and her own brother has sent her to rot here along with me, never to see the light of day; to feel the Sun's warmth upon our face and backs; to revel in the wonder and greatness of our beautiful fire, our magnificent and pure element.
As he focused back on the screams, he began to faintly make out words amidst the rabid screeches and guttural noises:
"-dash your heads upon the ground and have your bodies fed to the vultures! My brother thinks he has beaten me, him and his water wench! I will skin them both alive and make him watch as I let her be violated in every conceivable sense of the word! I will not kill him...no, never kill him, he is a traitor! Death is far too merciful! I will let him know my fury, let him know what its like, to be left all alone in the dark! Alone, alone, alone...No, no NO! NO! Please, don't leave me alone! Please, please don't leave me alone in the dark! NOOOOO! Please-"
Ozai closed out his daughter's rambling again, not bearing to hear her pained whimpers as the terror gripped her. Instead he focused upon his hand, focusing all his energy into it, attempting to create even the barest hint of warmth, the tiniest flicker of flame as he had done only scant years before, This attempt, as so many others before it, failed; he had truly lost the gift permanently. He slumped his head back against the wall, lost in thought.
We are not beaten yet, dear Azula. This I can promise you. We will find a way, do not worry; somehow, we will reclaim our lost throne, and set to right the wrongs that have been done to us.
Had he not been so intent on his thoughts of vengeance and his daughter's cries of mental agony, he might have seen the unusual figure staring into the window in the door of his room, the guards set to protect it laying unconscious all around him.
