Hello again. :D I got away from ATLA Wanderings because I was working on my Book 4 project (which turned out pretty well, if I do say so myself.) Although Korra is in the offing now, I do plan to keep writing ATLA fics, probably some Korra too, when I feel confident enough.
Hope you like this next one.
The Next Move
Ozai pondered his options… such as they were.
His hair was no longer the long, lustrous tide of dark magic that it had been; it was a mess. His clothes were rags, not the silks and velvets from before. His skin had taken on a prison pallor.
His brow furrowed in thought as he considered plot after plot, move after move that would improve his position somehow from where he was. He didn't like what he saw. At all. His opponent had planned too well.
Or so it seemed.
Was there maybe some… avenue of escape? Something his foe had not considered?
Yes…
In the bleak darkness of despair, a dim light beckoned.
There was something there, yes… but was it a trap? Something to bring him lower than he already was?
He thought on it more, examined it, dissected it with the finest of knives, then angrily, desperately hurled every single worst case scenario he could think of at it to see if it would crack.
He found it without flaw.
A slow, sly smile blossomed on his face.
He sighted his target… then he thrust his hand through the bars and slammed a rock on the table.
Ozai grinned in triumph.
"Ha!"
He leaned in toward the bars. "Let's see how you deal with that, O mighty Fire Lord!"
On the other side of the table from him, Zuko sat, fuming. Now it was his turn to look at the pai sho board and simmer.
Ozai sat back slightly, folded his arms, and smiled. If only for a moment, he could enjoy his son's problems.
And gloat.