A/N: And here we are with chapter three. Thank you for everyone who has left a comment and all the favorites and follows. They each mean a great deal and I am glad that someone out there is enjoying this. Writing this before I go back to finishing up cosplay for tomorrows con. Need to take a break from hot glue burns.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, thank you for reading and don't hesitate to leave a comment below.

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Having centuries, and countless past lives under his belt did nothing to better Zuko's mastering of firebending. He was still a hairs too slow. A breathes too shaky. General Reiji wasn't the harshest master he'd studied under, but the man left no room for failure. Many a nights Zuko had crawled himself under the satin covers and nursed the bruises and sore muscles of the day. He didn't remember the last morning he'd been allowed to sleep past the rising of dawn, the last night he had gone to bed relaxed and calm, nor the last time had he felt a sense of joy while firebending.

His tutelage centered on mastering the most violent and destructive forms of firebending. He had a force inside of himself that begged to be released and his grandfather was determined to bring that power under their thumb. It wasn't just his grandfather who had an eye on that power.

His father stalked around him, a dark glint in his eyes. Zuko held the final pose of the Broker Form, keeping his breathing even. His extended arm began to ache from holding it palm facing forward for far too long. He was balanced on one leg; his other extended straight behind him. He'd been balancing there, his father demanding he froze at the final step. The seconds had counted by without his being allowed to move.

"Father…" Zuko whimpered, his muscles growing tight.

"Hold position," Ozai answered. He didn't look at his son, just kept making the slow circle, his arms behind his back. There was something animalistic in his growl.

Zuko did so. He held the pose as long as he could before finally giving out. He found himself on his hands and knees, panting hard. His father's feet appeared under his gaze. Zuko didn't look up.

"Get up!"

He moved to follow the order, but did not do so as quickly as his father would have liked. A sharp curled boot connected with his shoulder as he was thrown onto his back. Zuko closed his eyes, breathing through the dull pain. He'd been aching for so long now, that the additional assault set into him within moments.

"Get up!"

Zuko was faster this time. He was on his feet, back straight and tear whipped from his eye. "I'm sorry, father."

"This is a simple form. And yet you still cannot handle something this simple."

It wasn't a fair accusation. He'd done the kata perfect, not just for his father now but for General Reiji only hours prior. He didn't protest the berating. Doing so would have only angered the man further.

"Loahi form. Now." Ozai barked.

Zuko took to the form, sliding one foot behind the other as he raised his arm. He shifted, ready to move through the new kata. He didn't make it through the first step.

A blast of warm fire hurled towards him. Zuko moved quickly, effectively twisting himself under the blast. Looking to see who had attacked, he was startled to see his father send a second blast. The fire was hotter than last. He dodged it again, placing himself in the way of another blast. Throwing his arms in front of him, he allowed the fire to hit his arm and pass around him. The impact hadn't burned him, but Zuko could feel the heat still against his arms.

He knew he couldn't keep dodging the attacks his father was sending towards him. The fire was growing hotter.

The next blast collided with his chest, throwing him off his feet. He landed face down in the courtyard. Dust settled around him as Zuko gasped through the discomfort.

"Pathetic." Ozai was kneeling beside him. Zuko attempted to rise, but found his father's knee grounding into his spine. Heat spread around his wrist as his father grasped it and brought it into a very painful position.

"Father, please!" Zuko pleaded. Begging was something Ozai never tolerated. The few servants who had entered the area quickly dispersed. They always fled when moments got like this. Zuko couldn't blame them. He would give nothing more than to flee so easily. "You're hurting me."

"Break free," commanded Ozai. "You have the power inside you. You are wasting it. Now. If you want to get off this ground, if you want me to stop, I suggest you find that power. Quit wasting my time."

Zuko gritted his teeth, attempting to rise as his father wished. The heat against his wrist was growing hotter but the second, but try as he could Zuko could not break the hold. The heat grew intense as flames began to lick between his father's fingers.

A scream tore through Zuko's throat as the burn engraved itself into his flesh. Ozai let go immediately, stepping away from his son. Zuko curled himself tight, bringing his burnt wrist into his chest. Tears rested in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He'd been burnt before.

"Get up." Ozai's voice was softer than it had been moments prior. There was still a harsh edge, but it was nothing compared to the compassionless growls of earlier.

Zuko rose to his feet, careful not to jostle his wrist. Ozai knelt before him. He took the boy's arm, roughly bringing the burnt wrist to his eyes. It wasn't too nasty of a burn, but if it didn't get looked at it would scar. The last thing Ozai needed was the shape of his hand burnt into the Avatar's wrist.

"Go to the healers for burn salve."

"Yes father."

"You were injured in training."

"Yes father."

"You were distracted and that caused your burn."

"Yes father."

"It will not happen again."

Zuko didn't know if it was a promise on his father's end to not injure him again, or a demand on Zuko's behalf to not allow it to happen a second time.

"Yes father."

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