Chapter 9: Embers Turn to Flame

Once Moro was out the door she did not stop running until she reached her apartment. Her hands were trembling, and her heart was racing as drops of icy sweat trailed down the back of her neck. She had no idea what would be on the other side of the door, and for the briefest of moments she hesitated, afraid of what she might see, but she quickly steeled her nerves and opened the door, her mother more important to her than anything else.

She bit down on her tongue hard enough to taste the burn of iron in the back of her throat, Esra looked awful, she was deathly pale and coated in a thick layer of sweat, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion and her breathing ragged as the neighborhood physician ardently tended to her.

Moro quickly rushed to her mother's bedside, using all of her strength to hold back the tears burning in her bicolored eyes. Her hand was ice cold when Moro held it, she didn't understand, Esra had been doing so well lately, she was getting better, so what the hell had changed?!

The physician gently grabbed her shoulder, leaning to whisper in the young girl's ear. "She's comfortable… you should stay with her until it's time."

She didn't say anything… she didn't need to ask any more questions… Moro knew exactly what he meant.

Esra suddenly stirred, her once bright and vibrant green eyes clouded and dazed, as if she couldn't fully see anything around her.

"Moro? Moro is that you?" she whimpered, the hand her daughter held trembling slightly.

She nodded, gripping her hand tighter, "I'm here mom."

Esra smiled, weak and almost defeated as she released her daughter's hand to caress her cheek, the warmth of her skin seeping into her icy palm. She felt a brush of wetness against her fingers, saddened that she'd made her precious daughter cry. Moro almost never cried, her father was the same way, saying that things like sorrow and pity were made worthless by tears, for they were only useful for consoling one's self instead of others.

Moro was so much like her father; she never thought of herself, only others, and it was because of that that Esra felt nothing but guilt. She'd allowed her only child to hide in fear for her own sake for so many years, believing she was protecting her, but Moro was no longer a child, she held strength that Esra could never deny her daughter, no matter how much she feared for her.

She sighed, wiping her daughter's tears with her thumb. "Moro… I'm sorry, for all those years I forced you to hide who you are… I should have left Ba Sing Se the moment I knew about you, maybe then things would have been different…"

"It's okay mom…"

"No," she cut her off, "I should have told you about your father too… Taiyang…"

Esra, in a moment of strength, rose from the bed to face her daughter, her legs draped over the side of the bed as she retrieved something from the side table. She opened the top drawer and removed the bottom, revealing a secret compartment.

What she pulled out was a bright red piece of fabric, covered in dust but it's vibrant color untouched by time, and Moro saw a small glint of gold thread as her mother held it close.

When she was little, before Esra's condition had worsened, Moro used to wake up at dawn to find her mother already awake. She would be looking out the window at the sunrise with the most peaceful yet longing look on her face, like she had been waiting a thousand nights for that one golden sunrise.

She had the same look on her face now, as she offered the cloth to her daughter.

"This was his, he said it was his family's symbol… he had to return to the Fire Nation after the war, but he promised to return for it one day." She said, tears of her own gathering in the corners of her tired eyes. "I promised him I would keep it until he returned for it and me…"

Moro ran her fingers across the fine piece of Fire Nation fabric, scarlet red with a golden tiger embroidered in the center, surrounded by golden flames as it's maw was open in a permanent ferocious roar.

This was her father's… and her mother's broken promise was left unspoken, making her heart all the heavier.

Esra grasped her hands around the fabric, "Moro I don't want you to feel tied to Ba Sing Se anymore… I want you to be free, and you'll never be free here… I've kept you safe as long as I can, but I can't anymore… so when the time is right promise me you'll leave this place."

Moro tied her father's bandana around her wrist, the scarlet color standing out against her ratty clothes.

"I promise mom."

Esra smiled as she held her daughter's hands, glad she was able to make things right before it was too late.

Moro felt her eyes burn as she stayed by her mother's bedside until sunrise.

Jin's father Han, along with Zuko, had helped her bury Esra while Mrs. Linh said some prayers. By the time everyone in the neighborhood had left save for Zuko and Iroh, the incense had already burned away, and the sun was disappearing over the walls of Ba Sing Se.

Moro finished laying a handful of red spider lilies on the freshly packed dirt, their crimson petals the same shade of red as her father's bandana, and she suddenly understood why they were Esra's favorite.

For a long time she didn't say anything, but when Iroh placed his hand on her shoulder it was like the final crack in the ice that plunged her into the freezing water. Tears streamed down her face faster than she could stop them, running hot lines down her face onto the grass below.

"You'll always have a place with us, Moro." He said, Zuko kneeling beside her and putting a hand on her other shoulder, offering silent comfort as she cried.

Probably more than anyone, he knew how it felt to lose a mother.

Moro felt awful; her mother was all she had for so long, but it wasn't just her loss that was breaking her heart, it was the slight feeling of relief that was destroying her inside. She did it to protect her, but it was because of Esra that Moro had to hide her firebending her entire life. It wasn't right for a bender to suppress their bending, and Esra's insistence that she not stay in the Earth Kingdom capitol was like a weight off her shoulders.

A breeze blew by and scattered petals from the spider lilies, carrying them away on the wind.

Zuko watched as Moro set another crate of tea behind the counter, her mother's scarlet bandana tied tight around her wrist.

It had been nearly a week since Esra's death, Iroh firmly offering a room in their new apartment to the girl along with a job at his newly opened tea shop, Zuko affirming it wasn't a request when Moro tried to politely refuse.

So the trio moved to the Upper Ring, exchanging dust and undesirables for stuffy aristocrats and shoes that did not have holes in the bottoms. For Zuko the finery of the Upper Ring was not entirely unfamiliar what with the luxuries that came with being royalty, however for Moro it was like looking at the face of someone who was witnessing Heaven. Her eyes were blown wide with wonder and she was practically drooling over the smells emanating from the Upper Markets.

The first week of their new life was mostly spent honoring the dead, lighting incense at Moro's bedroom window and leaving the first poured cup of tea untouched every morning. The odd-eyed girl quickly had shadows form beneath her eyes, as if she had rarely slept recently, and the absence of her quick wit and obnoxious jokes was becoming deafening.

One night, Zuko awoke to find Moro sitting alone in the kitchen of their apartment, her eyes wet as she stared at the flame in her palm. It was weak, constantly flicking back and forth as she tried to steadily maintain it, and the former prince couldn't stop himself before he grasped her hand in his, her flame instantly perking up as if sensing his own bending presence.

"Fire is only as strong as the firebender's will, if you are not focused and steady, it will die out." He told her, holding out a flame of his own as proof, licking the air with tongues of red and gold over his fingers.

He watched determination spark in her blue and yellow eyes, clenching her fist before opening it up and smiling as a stronger and brighter pink flame burst from her palm, dancing over her skin like water. It was the first time in weeks Zuko had seen his friend smile, something normally so natural upon her face that it felt wrong to see her without it.

He smiled as he remembered the reignition of the spark behind her eyes, glad she was beginning to act like herself again. Zuko knew it would take time for her to truly be at peace with the loss of her mother, but Moro was slowly returning piece by piece, and that was all he could wish for.

Within the span of a week word of the Jasmine Dragon had swept the Upper Ring and they were flooded with success, the trio which once lived in poverty now enjoying the comfort that money provided. For the first time in her life Moro did not have to steal or con to get her next meal, she could actually go to the market and buy groceries with money that she earned honestly in the tea shop.

It was a good feeling.

"Who thought when we came to this city as refugees, that I'd end up with my own tea shop?" Iroh lamented one day, a beaming smile on his face as he looked out at his booming shop and happy customers. "Follow your passions both of you, and life will reward you!"

Moro had an empty tray tucked under her arm, her catlike grin making its welcomed return. "Congrats Gramps! These stuffy nobles would be crazy not to like your tea."

"Yeah, you deserve it Uncle." Zuko added, "The Jasmine Dragon will be the best in the city."

The old man nodded, placing hands on both teenager's shoulders. "I am thankful that both of you are here with me, it means more than you know."

Moro wrapped her arms around Iroh, squeezing him in a hug as she glanced over at the vase of red spider lilies on the counter; he insisted on keeping them in the shop, as though Esra was here with them on this new journey.

She had never known anyone like Iroh or Zuko, the old man was so kind and warm for nothing in return, and while Zuko was a complete sourpuss he was probably her best friend.

She really did love them.

"Now, let's make these people some tea!"

Moro raised her tray like a battle trophy, holding proudly above her head. "Yeah!"

While their days ended with the tiredness but satisfaction of good work, Moro and Zuko stayed up late into the night. Staying quiet as possible in the living room so as not to wake Iroh was easier said than done, but as Zuko showed her proper firebending stances, and ran through drills with her, she would gladly keep silent.

The former prince of the Fire Nation made for a good teacher, adjusting her footing and directing the direction of her nonexistent flame all without words, the presence of his warm hands moving her arms and shoulders into place simultaneously making her want to laugh and jump away as though she'd been shocked.

It was doing weird things to her brain, but she heavily ignored it, chalking it up to being tired.

As the Jasmine Dragon's popularity grew the work became harder, but she would gladly do it if it meant never going back to the slums again.

She felt Zuko nudge her with his shoulder as she cleared another table, shooting him a devious smile in return as she playfully punched his arm. Seeing him smiling and teasing was never not going to be weird, but Moro was getting used to it.

Going to the back to get more cups, she propped the back door open to grab them from the alley. Moro picked up the crate and made to go back inside when someone crashed into her seemingly out of nowhere, she luckily didn't drop the teacups, but was successfully knocked onto the ground along with whoever ran into her.

It was a girl, younger than her, clad head to toe in blue from the beads in her hair to her vivid cerulean eyes.

Moro set the crate down, climbing to her feet and offering the girl a hand. "Whoa, you alright?"

The girl rubbed her head, probably dazed from her fall, and looked up at Moro with suspicion in her eyes. Judging by her tanned skin and blue garb, she probably wasn't from the Earth Kingdom, so her lack of trust in its citizens made sense. However, she took Moro's hand anyway and pulled herself back to her feet, dusting off her dress as she did so.

"I'm fine, thank you." She kept glancing at the open back door to the tea shop, a weird look on her face, nervous, almost afraid, but for what reason Moro did not know.

The odd-eyed girl scratched the back of her head, "Well, try to be more careful, alright?"

The mysterious girl nodded before leaving quickly, breaking into a run halfway down the street and disappearing from sight a moment later. Moro watched her go, confused but unable to do anything about it. She shrugged and picked up the crate, going back inside and forgetting about the strange young girl.

She came back to find Iroh and Zuko staring intently at a scroll lined with gold and jade. "What's that?" she asked, not recognizing the fancy characters.

"A message from the royal palace."

Iroh hugged the scroll against his chest suddenly, "I can't believe it!" he gasped, "This is such wonderful news!"

Zuko's brow twitched, "What is it Uncle?"

"We've been invited to serve tea to the Earth King!" without letting go of the scroll Iroh rushed to the back room, probably to scour the entire shop for teas he found worthy of the king's palette.

The teens exchanged a glace, both of them smiling amusedly at the old man's excitement.

The came when Iroh and Zuko were dressed in brand new robes, the sleeves lined with bronze thread and tied off with silk. They were sent in advance as a gift from the Earth King, Moro had received a new kimono as well, but she had volunteered to stay behind and watch the shop.

While the thought of seeing the palace was exciting, stepping onto the floors of royalty with feet that had only started wearing shoes on a regular basis felt wrong. She didn't want to ruin Iroh's day by making the king uncomfortable with her slums behavior.

The old man was practically trembling with joy as he clutched his tea case, a wooden box containing his leave and pot. "I do wish you'd come with us Moro, it won't be a proper representation of the Jasmine Dragon without you." He tried to explain, but Moro just shrugged,

"Nah, someone has to keep this place up and running, right?"

Iroh sighed, patting her shoulder. "Very well, you'll be with us in spirit then." He gave her one of his warmest smiles. "I shall bring you something from the palace, a pastry perhaps?"

She was already drooling at the thought of eating food from the Earth King's palace, her eyes sparkling and Iroh chuckling in return, taking her excitement as a yes.

Zuko gave her a small smile, "We'll be back before you even know we're gone." He said, and Moro gave him a nudge on the arm in reply.

They climbed into the carriage sent by the Earth King, and as the rose towards the palace and Moro began her work for the day, she failed to notice when the vase of her mother's spider lilies began to sway, moved by the winds as they began to change.

Honey, you got a big storm comin'. Also sorry if Moro recovering from her mother's death felt rushed, it isn't meant to be, because while Moro is beginning to act like herself she is still recovering from losing her mother, and the way I see it is that since Esra was sick for so long, Moro always knew that losing her was a possibility, so she was more prepared than she should have been to say goodbye to her. See you next time for Crossroads of Destiny! Ciao!