Peasant
"How much is this?" The buyer asked.
"Four copper pieces."
"What? Four copper pieces for a piece of fruit? That's absurd!"
"It's an import. All the way from the capital city."
"…you're lying."
"No, I mean it. This is from a garden that was appraised and blessed by the Fire Lord himself! Well, Fire Lord Azulon I mean. Back when he was alive."
"Really?"
"I mean it."
"But still, four copper pieces is…"
"I'll give it to you for three."
"Deal." Both men exchanged items. "If you have an imported fruit, you must have heard some things from the capital city then?"
"What? You mean about Fire Lord Ozai's new policies? I tell ya, he's even more ruthless than his father was."
"No, no. I meant about Iroh."
"Oh! The former prince. No one has heard from him, not in months."
"The details are still kinda of fuzzy. What exactly happened to him?"
"His heart broke when his son died. He was humiliated by both his defeat at Ba Sing Se and his birthright taken away. So he turned tail and ran, too ashamed of himself. I heard that he stole a huge sack of the palace's gold and now he's living the good life somewhere under a false name and everything."
"What a shame. You know, I remember my father telling me stories about meeting Iroh when he was a young man…"
"Really?"
"Yep. He would tell me, over and over,…'this nation is going to change, for the better, when Iroh becomes Fire Lord'. Now look what happened. A thief, a coward and a loser. I looked up to him as the nation's greatest hero, and he turned out to be a rat."
"Who would have known?" The merchant shook his head.
"Yep. I do feel a little sorry for him…when I heard his kid died, I mean." The buyer looked down at his feet. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a dirty beggar man sleeping near the edge of a back ally of one of the shops. "Hey, how much for another fruit? Not an import, just a regular one."
"Just one copper piece."
"Give me one of those too." The merchant and buyer exchanged again. "Thanks." The buyer approached the peasant and tapped him on his shoulder. The bum grunted before rolling over.
"Hey. Buddy."
"Mmm…yes?" The former prince, now homeless, asked as he slowly opened his eyes, still sleepy.
"Here. Take this." The buyer gave Iroh the fruit, not knowing who it was underneath the inch of dirt on his once clean skin.
"Oh! Thank you so much." Iroh graciously accepted the gift. He had not eaten in two days.
"No problem. Just…stay out of trouble."
"I promise." Iroh smiled through his shaggy beard. The man left him and Iroh inhaled the fruit. He did not care about manners or who was watching; he knew that he had no one left to impress.
It seemed like a lifetime had passed since Lu Ten died and Iroh had left the palace. After he ran out of food and money, he sold his ostrich-horse for gold, then his supplies, then his extra clothes. Before he realized it, he had to choose between sleeping in a cozy bed or eating at all. And now, after over five months of wandering, he had become what he always had been so fascinated with…a peasant. A low level commoner. No one knew him, no one recognized him, and no one helped him.
Finally, he understood why it truly meant to be helpless. Every day, people passed him and didn't even notice he was there. He was a ghost, like his son, except Iroh could still feel the sting of mortality.
Yet he refused to go home. The road ahead of him was still long, but Iroh would not turn back, not until he saw his son again.
Back when he was a boy, he heard a story of a magical place. It was the only place in the world that could have enough spiritual energy to allow him to see his boy again. One place, far away…in the heart of the Earth Kingdom. Ironically enough, the country where his son was killed would be the land Iroh hoped to be reunited with him.
"Perhaps his spirit will still be there." Iroh told himself that when he would try to go to sleep, closing his eyes in the gutters of the towns he used to dream of ruling over.
He finished eating. Iroh's stomach growled for more, even after the fruit was gone. Iroh wasn't suffering from mere hunger anymore. He was beginning to starve. He reached into his pocket, feeling the filled coin bag hidden under his the robe. He constantly had to argue with his instincts. They screamed at him, begging to spend some of the gold on food. But Iroh always denied them their desires. He knew that fare to the Earth Kingdom would be expensive. The small pouch of gold was the exact amount he needed to pay the fairy. He need to save it, he had to!
So he forced himself to live in such a way; begging, walking everywhere, guarding the hidden bag of coins where ever he went. Every now and then he would steal some scraps off a stranger's plate, but he usually went to sleep hungry. His suffering was great, and Iroh believed that he deserved to suffer.
Yet, even far away from it, Iroh could feel the sea tugging at his heart. The voice had returned and, once again, it called to him. It moved his feet when his own spirit was weak. And it told him to keep going. So not having anyone else to listen to or any other reason to go on, Iroh let the voice carry him forward.
