❝ Kazuo. Harmonious man is what your name means.❞
❝ I hope to live up to it.❞
How long had he been traveling? That was a good question. When had he begun walking? Where was he? Who was he? So many questions and just a growing pile without answers.
The first thing he could even remember was dragging himself out of a river, coughing and sputtering. Everything else was a blur.
The dirt road was open beneath his feet. Grass grew on either side along with the forest trees. When did he even arrive in the forest? Moonlight filtered through the tree branches. Various animals sounded throughout the place. Everything was blurry, though.
His head hurt. He could feel the headache pounding in his skull. His vision was hardly stable enough to make out anything. His body seemed to be working on its own. He had no destination in mind. He didn't even know where he was. Still, he refused to stop. There was something in him urging him to go on. There was no time to stop, even if he were practically stumbling at this point.
He had no idea how he'd gotten to walking on that road. It seemed he'd fallen into some sort of trance during his trek leading to nowhere. All he had done was stare straight ahead and kept on walking. Even with his headache. Even though his vision was blurring. He had to keep on going.
That is, until he tripped.
He laid there where he fell for who knows how long. He was tired, thirsty, hunger, but he ignored all those feelings, weakly pushing himself up. The questions still swarmed his head. His body worked almost automatically and it was as if he was trapped within his mind, unable to make his own decisions for himself.
He stumbled to the closest tree to support himself. He was dazed, his vision swam even more. He took a deep breath, hoping to stabilize himself. There was no doubt something was wrong. His body was in pain, he could feel it. Yet by some unknown reason, his body only wished to continue onward.
It felt like there was a large weight on his shoulders. His body was begging for rest, and he wanted to allow it, but he just couldn't. He didn't know what was happening or why. More questions for th ever-growing list.
A sudden burst of flames caused him to tumble backwards. He turned his head to find the source...many a source actually. Several men in armor were circled around him with weapons in hand.
"Lower your weapons," a stern voice commanded softly, "it is only a child." The soldiers lowered their hands, spears, swords, and any weapons that they may have held in their hands.
The boy looked around, his head swimming. He just wanted to leave so he could get away from the pain and rest.
When the man who'd spoken stepped forward, his eyes softened. "Hello, child," he smiled warmly, "we mean you no harm. We were simply startled by your presence. I am General Iroh, could you tell us your name?"
"I don't know my name," the boy admitted with a shrug.
"Do you have any family?" Iroh asked.
"I don't know."
Iroh couldn't help noticing how weak the boy seemed. As he begun to approach him, he noted his eyes were hazy and unfocused, his skin dark but cheeks tinged pink. All in all, it was clear he wasn't well.
The boy tried to stand, but before he could, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out. Now that he was out, Iroh could feel him burning with fever. The old man worried for his health; he couldn't have been much older than his niece back home. Right off the bat, Iroh knew the child had no traveling supplies, he was alone, and it scared him to think how long he may have been like this.
It was a week and a half before the boy woke up. Other than the occasional moan or shift in his sleep, he had been quiet. Iroh had been about to leave when the soldiers had found him, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to stay a few days to care for him. He just couldn't leave a child alone in this state. Now that whatever sickness that plagued him had passed, Iroh expected him to wake any day now.
Iroh knew he could not continue this war. There was no way he could bear it after the death of his son, Lu Ten. But how could he leave straightaway when there was someone who needed him now?
When he chose to return home, how could he look his nephew in the eye and only be able to remember he'd left a boy barely younger than him to die?
He had been in the middle of making himself some tea when the boy finally stirred. He tossed and turned a few times before his eyes fluttered open. He jolted upright and searched his surroundings frantically.
"It's about time," Iroh commented lightheartedly. "It would be such a waste for you to miss another day to enjoy tea."
Once the boy was awake and well enough to speak, the two sat together, talking. Every question he was asked was answered with a shrug or an 'I don't know.' There was something about Iroh that made him feel calm despite their meeting.
"Kazuo, I understand you happen to be in a fragile state right now," Iroh started after they came to dead end to dead end in explaining his appearance, when the boy furrowed his brows.
"Hmm?" he asked.
"I must call you something!" Iroh chuckled, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I can't keep calling you 'Boy' or 'Young man' after all." The man seemed to present him as if the name were already his own. "Kazuo is a fine name for a fine young man. What do you think? Do you like it?"
The boy thought moment, then nodded with a broad grin. He took a sip of the tea Iroh had made. It was perfectly balanced, not too sweet nor too bitter, and once it went down his throat, it warmed his whole body and even made him want to smile.
"I like it," he said. "I like the tea, too."
Iroh chuckled. "Thank you. Is there anything at all you can remember?"
"I..." he trailed off. "I remember my parents' faces. I could give you a description of them, but not their names. I don't know the name of where I'm from. There's nothing else."
"Do you remember how old you are?"
"I think I'm eight. That's it." Kazuo took another sip, and made a small content sound.
"I can see this troubles you," sighed Iroh, "And I am not surprised. Your memory is fractured, but hopefully these things will come back to you over time."
"Maybe," shrugged Kazuo. "But for now...I've got nothing." It was strange. The memories seemed to sit in the back of his head, so close yet drifted just out of reach whenever he grabbed for them. It was disturbing and slightly annoying.
"If you want, you could stay with me until then," Iroh offered with a warm and friendly smile. "You will be safe under my care. It's dangerous for someone your age to be wandering alone." He held out his large hand. Kazuo stared down at it, his eyes briefly reading confusion as his mind began to weigh in his options. But considering he didn't trust it right now, he decided to go with his gut.
What choice did he have anyway? He had nowhere to go, no family, not even a name of his own.
He looked down at the hand, then back at Iroh who was still smiling. Slowly, a matching grin spread across his face and his smaller hand grabbed onto it. Iroh shook it, as to confirm his words as promise with that one handshake.
As Iroh began telling him about his home, the Fire Nation, and the other three, the Earth Kingdom (Where he was found, according to Iroh), the Water Tribes, and the Air Nomads (though they were now long extinct), Kazuo asking various questions and making slight comments, he could sense a sadness in him the longer they talked. Then the old man began explaining to the boy that he did not plan on going back home but wished to travel the world some first since he'd recently lost someone dear to him. Rather than bring Kazuo with him, he planned to send a letter to his father and family about Kazuo and why he was to stay in the palace while Iroh tried to control his grief.
To say Kazuo resented the idea of being sent away alone was true, but he didn't want to speak against him since he could not remember a time he'd experienced grief himself. But Kazuo didn't know anyone and it was doubtful he'd be welcomed even from what little he'd learned. Being thrust into the unknown yet again irritated him; meeting Iroh made him feel certain to finally have something constant in his new life, some comfort he wasn't to face it alone. And he was already bound to leave.
"I won't be gone long," Iroh assured him when he noticed the disappointed expression set in on his face. "Besides, my nephew, Zuko will enjoy having a friend, and my niece is about your age. They won't mind you." Kazuo raised a brow as to say, 'Uhuh, sure.' "Don't worry." Iroh gently ruffled his hair, getting a few laughs out of him.
"Now..." Iroh took out what looked like a game board and set it between them on the low table. "Would you like to learn how to play Pai Sho?"
Kazuo sat in the carriage as he was taken to ride from the port and to the castle once the ship had docked. The letter Iroh received had said the Fire Lord was angry, but he understood his firstborn son's grief and so Kazuo was to separate from Iroh this short while to come onto Fire Nation soil. In the days before he had to leave, Iroh taught him the proper way to greet the Fire Lord, and how to respond to the questions he would likely ask. He was given a cloak so no one would see him, and when he asked why, he was told it was because he looked like he belonged to the Water Tribes with his tan complexion and dark brown hair. None of the Fire Nation civilians would take kindly to a Water tribe peasant living among the royals as one of them. Of course, he had no idea where he was actually from so he had no way to dispel that assumption.
Keeping his head down, once they had reached the Fire Nation palace, he was immediately escorted out and rushed inside with hurried steps. By the time Kazuo finally entered, he was greeted with the sight of a long red carpet and marble floors. He lifted his head up as his eyes roamed his surroundings. Beautiful paintings decorated, most of them depicting the royal family and nature. Before he could admire the rest, footsteps were made towards him.
Two servants approached him and told him to follow them. As he did so, lowering his head to avoid the gazes of those they passed. They opened a pair of large doors to reveal the throne room. Besides the Fire Lord, the only other people in the room were a man, a woman, and two children.
Kazuo walked forward, and then knelt down before the throne with his head lowered in the way Iroh showed him, his forehead touching the ground.
"Remove your hood," Azulon, the most feared man in the world and Fire Lord, ordered. Kazuo did as he said, his amber eyes staring up at the man. The Fire Lord's hair was tied up in a half topnot, his hair white from age and reaching his waist. He had a goatee and a long mustache, his pale golden eyes strengthening Kazuo's anxiousness. His skin was pale, very much unlike his own, and he wanted to shrink away from Azulon's scrutinizing stare.
He continued to study him as Kazuo stayed down. The flames before the throne were on-going, burning a bright orange. Their intensity lowered as the Fire Lord then closed his eyes. "So, what is your name?" he asked.
Kazuo kept his eyes on his form, his head slightly bowed, attempting to remain humble and inferior in the presence of the intimidating old man. How he could be Iroh's father boggled him. "I don't truly remember, but General Iroh has named me Kazuo, Fire Lord Azulon." His answer was clear and strong for he knew mumbling and stuttering would only irritate him.
"Kazuo?" repeated Azulon.
"Yes."
The Fire Lord stroked his beard as he pondered. "My son sent a letter of you with nothing but good things. He tells me of your fractured memory but also that you have interest to learn of Fire Nation laws and history. Tell me your knowledge of what you may have learned in your time with my son."
Kazuo gulped, then calmed himself and nodded his head, remembering his nights of attention and curiosity to the history of all the nations, not just simply this one. Surely he had retained something, he assured himself as he thought of which event to recite. Finally, he lifted his head to look at Azulon who still awaited an answer. "One of your many great achievements, Fire Lord Azulon, was that of when you took Garsai. Instead of a large army, you built a small and strong one because you'd planned a surprise attack. You faced the Garsai army straight on rather than attack the city itself. One of your men acted as a citizen and warned the army of your arrival so they would try to surprise you, while you tricked them. When they got there and attacked the camp, you and your army surrounded them.
"During battle, you and the Garsai general, General Wu, fought, but since you were the stronger and better fighter, you defeated him. After you completely took over Garsai and parts of the..." He faltered a moment before recalling the name. "The Si Wong Desert, you built many colonies in the Earth Kingdom."
Hidden away from sight, he crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that his slight blunder hadn't deterred any positive reaction. Then Azulon clapped his hands, and Kazuo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I see my son did not lie," Azulon briefly smiled. "I am amazed."
Kazuo bowed again and decided on the finishing touch that would hopefully put him in somewhere relatively in Azulon's good graces. "Nothing is more amazing than your hard work to become one of the greatest Fire Lords in history, Fire Lord Azulon," he said.
Azulon stood from his throne and descended the stairs. The boy kept himself bowing even though he thought his heart might burst out of his chest. "Stand up, child," commanded the Fire Lord, and Kazuo inhaled deeply, sitting up before getting to his feet. His hands were folded before him as he gazed up at the Fire Lord. He grabbed his chin, tilting Kazuo's head back slightly.
"How odd," Azulon observed. "Your eyes are a bright amber, identical to the superior shades of gold belonging to the Fire Nation. And yet your very appearance seems that of the inferior Water Tribe peasants. Perhaps one of your parents or an ancestor happened to be one of us." He released Kazuo's chin, stroking a hand along his hair in what seemed to be an almost affectionate gesture. "Kazuo. Harmonious man is what your name means. It is a name I assume my son chose to suit you."
"I hope to live up to it," Kazuo stated sincerely.
Azulon nodded. "Since you are to stay here, you must know the royal family," he said. The Fire Lord turned to look at his younger son and his family. "Prince Ozai and my daughter-in-law, Princess Ursa." As he said their names, his hand signaled for them to approach. "My grandchildren, Zuko, Azula." He signaled for them to join as well.
The family stood and walked over to the two, and Kazuo kept his gaze steady as he looked at them, even while his heart pounded hard and loud enough he wouldn't be surprised if they heard it. He looked at the boy who approached him. It had to be Zuko who Iroh had told him about. Silently, they greeted each other, and then Kazuo turned to Prince Ozai.
In his eyes there was something Kazuo did not like. His aura was quite offputting, setting off every warning bell, and even though he feared Azulon, Kazuo had a feeling he ought to fear Ozai more. Subconsciously, his hand slowly reached up for Azulon's sleeve, and the Fire Lord watched as the child held onto it with his hand. His eyes found him still staring at Ozai. He followed Kazuo's gaze, wondering why the boy was afraid.
"So my brother adopted a mixed-breed peasant, hmm?" Kazuo glowered at Ozai, unable to fight off the frown that set in at his tone.
"Maybe not so," Azulon countered, surprisingly coming to his defense. "He has no recollection of his past, so it is uncertain of his previous status. He has sparks in his eyes, which means he may even have or will firebend, which would make him an asset to us."
Kazuo bowed to the royal family. "I will not do anything to shame you," he said, trying to appear neither a nuisance nor a rival. Ozai let out a snort, but his wife Ursa gave Kazuo a warm smile.
"It is nice to meet you." Her voice was warm and soft, with a maternal air about it. Instantly, Kazuo knew Ursa was like Iroh. The girl, Azula, hadn't said two words to him, and he knew that was for the best. She had the same unsettling aura about her as Prince Ozai, which would only mean trouble.
"Servants." No sooner had the word left Azulon's mouth, two workers jumped to attention. "Take Kazuo to his room and prepare his clothes, " he ordered.
Unloosening his hand from the Fire Lord's sleeve, Kazuo dropped his hand to his side as the servant woman placed a hand on his shoulder and led him away to what would be his new room in his new home. The walk was silent and awkward, but Kazuo kept his mind on Iroh, wondering what he was doing and how he was dealing with things. Iroh had said he would send letters and Kazuo knew he would, but he would rather have him here.
Upon arriving at his new room, Kazuo spotted the outfit he would be wearing spread out on the bed. He picked up the fabric, made of fine material and different shades of red. It complimented his skin and eyes yet it just didn't feel right. However, he knew he'd be going into this type of lifestyle and there'd be no going back. There weren't any regrets, but this was something to get used to.
"Well, this will be fun," he muttered.
(I know dark and tan skin doesn't necessarily equal to Water Tribe ancestry, but bear with me, because it is common among them since if I remember correctly, Fire Nation is based off the Japanese and the Water Tribes are based off the Eskimos. Anyway, hope you liked this!)