A/N: Pro-Bending Circuit Round Four: Minus One (Ozai)

Position/Team: Earthbender, Capital City Catgators
Prompts Used: empty, Fire Nation Capital,
Quote: "The world does so well..."
Bonus: earthbending, same character as teammates
Word Count: 2,412

Messenger hawks were regarded for their speed and intelligence. General Iroh simply saw them as necessary evils, or rather, the bearers of bad news. Of course, he had been fighting in this damn war for so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like to receive good news for a change. The only thing that gave him hope was that his son now fought at his side—and that the city of Ba Sing Se couldn't hold on for much longer.

This particular hawk was bigger than the last one and pesky, too. They often wouldn't release their message unless given a treat first. The General felt like he had received so many hawks recently that he'd soon have to restock on messenger hawk treats. How he was supposed to do that while holding siege to a city was beyond him. Maybe when he ran out of treats, he would just start shooting the birds.

"Dad, I think he likes you." The sound of Lu Ten's laughter was enough to shake him from his sinister reverie. Iroh hated what this war was doing to him—how he could feel consumed yet empty all at the same time. In his mind, there was only one reason to keep fighting—for the future of the Fire Nation—for the next generation to live with the promise of peace. But with the way his father, Fire Lord Azulon, pressed on with his brutal war tactics, such notions were far from reach.

Lu Ten—his hope, his everything—handed him the message. It was from his father—the destroyer of hope, the destroyer of everything.

General Iroh–

Something has happened to your brother, Ozai. I need you to come back to the Capital immediately. I have sent orders to have Lu Ten reassigned.

–Fire Lord Azulon

"What is it, Dad?" The smile on the young man's face—his beautiful face—faded quickly into a look of concern.

That look would be the one etched in Iroh's memory forever. It was one of the last times he was able to study his son so intently, as if searching for a flicker of hope for the future in his eyes. He didn't see it.

Because there was no hope.

General Iroh wasn't sure if it was the news of Ozai's death or simply being home that made him feel numb. The funeral was dark and cold despite his brother's remains burning bright and hot on the pyre. Fire Lord Azulon acted distant, only speaking to Iroh about matters of politics and war. But this wasn't any different than before. If anything, going through the motions was easier without Ozai in the way.

This time, the messenger hawk was small, a female. She didn't beg for a treat which was good, because in his short time at the Capital, Iroh hadn't procured any. He hoped it was word from his son since he hadn't heard anything since they parted ways in Ba Sing Se. He watched until the bird became a tiny speck in the sky before he read the message. Then, he dropped to his knees and cried out in anguish. Lu Ten was gone.

"Come on, General. You just have to sit there. You don't have to say anything. These meetings are dreadfully boring, anyway," General Kazin coaxed a reluctant Iroh outside the war chamber.

"You've always been a good friend, Kazin. But I'm afraid I've lost my taste for war these days," Iroh replied solemnly.

"We all have, General. But the Fire Lord—"

"Prince Iroh! General Kazin!" Azulon's voice bellowed from inside the room. "The meeting is about to begin!"

Iroh let out a long sigh as he slid into his seat. Perhaps he could simply bide his time and ignore the goings-on of the war planning. With Lu Ten gone, he had no interest in what was happening on the battlefront. Until someone was ready to discuss ending the war, he intended to keep silent.

General Bujing stood to make his proposal, pointing at the map as he did. "The Earth Kingdom defenses are concentrated here. A dangerous battalion of their strongest earthbenders and fiercest warriors. So I am recommending the forty-first division."

Iroh's ears perked up at this. That was Lu Ten's division.

General Kazin spoke next. "But the forty-first is entirely new recruits. How to you expect them to defeat a powerful Earth Kingdom battalion?"

"I don't," Bujing replied. "They'll be used as a distraction while we mount an attack from the rear. What better to use as bait than fresh meat?"

Something snapped in Iroh. He shot to his feet, fire burning in his fists. "So this is what it's come to now? Sacrificing our own soldiers who love and defend our great nation? Our youth… our future… MY SON!"

"General Iroh, let's just—" General Kazin reached for his elbow, but Iroh shoved him away.

"NO! THIS IS NOT GREATNESS! THIS IS MADNESS! And if this is how we treat our own people, then we have no business ruling the world!"

"SILENCE!" The Fire Lord's command echoed throughout the chamber.

For several strained seconds, the only sound that could be heard was Iroh's heavy breathing and the cackling of the flames that separated his father from the rest of them.

"Prince Iroh, you may take your seat. General Bujing, you may continue," Azulon instructed.

"I AM DONE, THEN!" Iroh clinched his fiery fists and took several long strides toward the door.

"You will stop right there if you know what's good for you." The Fire Lord's tone remained cool and calm.

Iroh turned to face the flames, but his vision blurred and his voice faltered. "No, Father. None of this is good. There is nothing good about pointless bloodshed."

"I think General Bujing disagrees." Azulon's statement came out like a spark.

The General nodded, a smirk spreading across his face. He had been ignited.

The glow from the wall of fire intensified. "Then the only way to settle this is through Agni Kai. It will be at sundown tomorrow. Prince Iroh, if you are truly done here, as you say, then you are dismissed."

Iroh handed the hawk a whole handful of treats and stroked its feathers. He wasn't usually so affectionate with the birds, but he needed his message to make it through. Even though he despised what the messenger hawk often represented, Lu Ten had always treated them like pets, so this was for him. He was even talking to the damn bird.

"It would be nice to just fly away from all of this. The world could do so well without me..." He choked back a sob. "Why Lu Ten and not me?"

The hawk cocked its head to the side as if considering Iroh's words. "But you and I, we're tied to this world, aren't we? You know nothing but the flight. And I know nothing but the fight. Yet... I am moved to wish that I could do equally well without the world."

With a deep sigh, Iroh tried to steady his hand as his quill hovered over tear-stained parchment. He had been waiting to send these instructions—for what, he didn't know—but on the brink of an Agni Kai, he felt pressed to finally do so. The formal fire duel wasn't meant to be fought to the death, and Iroh wasn't afraid of General Bujing. He just felt heavy—like he often did the night before a decisive battle. War had apparently followed him home—or rather, home was where the war began. It was weighty. And he was weary.

It was time to lay Lu Ten to rest. He quickly crafted the message to his in-laws who resided on Ember Island. He had sent his son's remains there. The boy grew up in the Capital, but this was no place for him now. If hope had ever been alive in this place, it was long since gone, dead, killed.

Regrettably I am bound by my responsibilities here, and I implore you to conduct the ceremony for Lu Ten in my absence. I will hold a personal vigil for him in the Capital, but his place is at peace there with you. Please scatter his ashes along the beach and out to sea. He always loved his visits to the island. I sent him there so he may be free. Please, give my boy wings.

The Agni Kai arena was fuller than Iroh had ever seen it. Then again, he had heard the murmurings, how everyone wanted to see the revered Dragon of the West. He wondered what would happen if he refused. He had never surrendered a fight. It would be one way to make a statement—to show his father he was truly done. But the Fire Lord would surely see it as shameful, and if Iroh had one fight left in him, he would fight for the forty-first division. For Lu Ten.

When Iroh turned to face his opponent, he wasn't altogether surprised to see Azulon standing in General Bujing's place. Somehow he knew this would happen. Perhaps this was the showdown that was always meant to be. And maybe if Iroh won—if he could beat his father at this—then no one else had to get hurt. This could mean the end of the war.

But when Iroh saw the look in the Fire Lord's eyes, he knew it didn't matter. He would have to kill his father to end the war. A century's worth of hatred and anger radiated from Azulon, and no matter how many Agni Kais or battles Iroh won, he would be powerless to stop the rage. He was so tired of fighting, and he knew he would be fighting until the day his father died. Today would not be that day.

Iroh dropped to his knees to signal his surrender. "Please, Father. I meant you no disrespect. I am your loyal son."

"Rise and fight, Prince Iroh!" Azulon snarled.

"I won't fight you."

"You will fight for your honor!'

"There is no honor in a fight between father and son."

"You dare to challenge MY honor? Show your respect and fight!"

"Father, we should fight alongside each other in times of war. If we fight against each other, then our cause is lost."

"Do not speak to me as if I don't know about war. I've been fighting in this war since I was younger than Lu Ten."

Iroh stiffened at the mentioning of his son, but if his father was provoking him, he refused to succumb. "Lu Ten had more honor than us all. And I would never challenge him to a fight."

With his head still bowed, Iroh heard the growl that rumbled deep in the Fire Lord's throat and saw the shadow of his raised fist. He could feel the heat, the hate—the hurt. Whatever pain came next, he knew he could endure—it was surely what he deserved. And if it was his time to leave this world, then so be it. He was more than ready. He was done.

But then it was over. He heard his father address the crowd in a booming voice, but he couldn't make out the words with his pulse beating behind his ears. He lifted his head just in time to watch Azulon's retreating form cross the platform. He then stared hard at the ground below him where he crouched, gasping for air, and wondering if the droplets that fell were sweat or tears.

Iroh wiped the sweat from his brow as tears formed at the corner of his eyes. He told himself it was the sting of the salty sea air, but then he couldn't explain away the ache he felt in his heart as he clutched at his chest. He had heard that Ember Island reveals the true self, and as he watched the waves crash onto the beach, Iroh wondered if anything from his life had been true at all. His father spoke of honor, but only in terms of the fight. Where was the honor of living—that held life as precious and didn't require such heartless sacrifice?

The messenger hawk landed on his shoulder and began pecking at his topknot.

"Damn bird," he snapped while snagging the scroll from its leg. The hawk squawked in protest, leaving a mess of his hair before flying away. Iroh laughed at the situation simply because Lu Ten would have. His chuckle turned to a choke when he saw who the letter was from—his father.

Prince Iroh—

I had hoped we could talk before you left for Ember Island. I suppose this letter will suffice. I regret how things ended—I regret many things, in fact. The Agni Kai was foolish, I now realize. It would have been much better suited to teach your brother a lesson, not you.

Had I taught Ozai better, I could have saved him from his fate. He never learned proper respect, and the suffering he caused led to his untimely death. I have always been proud of you, my son. I would spare you this pain of losing a child if I could.

I want you to know that I assigned Lu Ten to the forty-first division precisely because they were new recruits serving far from the center of the war. It was my intention to save him, not sacrifice him. While I disapprove of insubordination in the war room, I did not approve of General Bujing's plan.

—Fire Lord Azulon

Upon reading the message, the pressure in Iroh's chest released. But so did the tears. He cried for the loss of his brother. He cried for the loss of his son. He cried for the loss of so many lives in a war that had gone on for too long.

His father knew the pain of loss, too. Perhaps it was enough to make him see. Maybe true honor could be found, fought for, restored. Did Iroh dare to have hope?

Or would peace always be beyond reach, a dream cast into the wind like the ashes of the deceased? Birds would always bring messages of despair, and the war soared on with broken wings.