Chapter 7 - The Fire Lord's Bastard
I returned to the academy the next day, with the vague threat of more court functions in my future hanging over me. But, for the time being, I hoped I would be able to bury myself in my studies again and pretend that nothing had changed.
I realized how foolish this hope was as soon as I reached the school gates. The headmaster himself was there to meet me, and as he escorted me to his office in stern silence, every student and professor we passed in the corridors cast barely hidden glances in my direction, whispering to each other as soon as we were just out of earshot enough not to be able to make out what was being said. Even Aza and Iyego, I noticed with a pang of guilt, gave me strange looks - Aza wide-eyed and almost awed, Iyego scowling.
There could be no pretending, I realized as the headmaster ushered me into his office and shut the door firmly behind us. Everything had changed.
A white-haired old man who had been in charge of the Royal Academy since Azulon was still Fire Lord, Headmaster Miki ran the school as tightly as any navy captain ran his ship, and saw it as an important institution of continuity throughout both the turbulence of war and the changes that came with peace. One of his students hiding such a scandalous secret from him for nearly a year certainly would not have made him happy.
"Well, Bumi," Headmaster Miki said, taking his seat behind his dark wooden desk, as solid and traditional as the rest of the decor of his office. "What do you have to say for yourself?" His displeasure, as I had expected, was obvious.
The tone of reprimand made some of my old military training kick in, and I stood at attention, eyes fixed ahead on the royal insignia on the wall behind the headmaster's desk. "I'm sorry, sir," I offered, trying to sound contrite enough to placate him. If I was being honest, I was more sorry about the scandal than I was about having kept my parentage a secret, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear.
"Don't grovel," Headmaster Miki snapped, unappeased. "It's beneath you. And sit down. You're no common soldier, and I'm not your drill sergeant."
Of course I was no common soldier - I'd been in the navy, not the army, I was a sailor. But I knew that was not what Headmaster Miki meant, and this was not the time to point out the distinction. Stiffly, I sat down as he had ordered.
"What I want to know," the headmaster went on, leaning his arms on his desk and giving me a hard look, "is how long you've known."
"That I was Zuko's son?" I replied, swallowing nervously. "Since I was eighteen, sir." Then, realizing the headmaster might not know my exact age, I hastily added, "About two and a half years."
"I see," Headmaster Miki said, eyes narrowing. "And when did the Fire Lord become aware of your...relationship?"
I frowned, wondering why that mattered. But I knew better than to be anything less than forthright. "Just after I did, sir."
"So when you applied for the military scholarship," the headmaster concluded, "you were both aware that you were defrauding this institution."
"It wasn't fraud," I protested, a pit forming in my stomach. Would the academy want to scrutinize my whole life now, go back over everything? "You can check with my commanding officers, I served my two years in the navy, just like anyone else…"
"But you are not just like anyone else," the headmaster cut me off, slamming one palm against the surface of his desk as sternness gave way to genuine anger. "You are the son of the Fire Lord and should have come to us as such, instead of taking a scholarship intended for a commoner."
I blinked in surprise. I hadn't expected that to be the headmaster's objection. "I just wanted to earn it for myself, sir," I said, trying to defend my decision.
The headmaster was not impressed. "I don't know who you think you need to prove anything to," he said, pointing one finger at me accusingly. "But your self-indulgence took that scholarship away from some other young man whose father wouldn't have been able to send him here without it."
My self-indulgence. That stung. It was the sin I was used to blaming my mother for, and Zuko, and even Aang. All of them, in their own way, doing what they wanted without realizing how it affected me. Surely I wasn't anything like that.
But the headmaster had a point. I had never thought about who the scholarship might have gone to if I hadn't taken it. And now, whoever that other kid was, he would probably never have the opportunity to attend such a prestigious institution as the Royal Academy - an opportunity that had been mine by birthright all along, whether I wanted that privilege or not.
I hung my head. "I'm sorry, sir," I said again, this time sincerely. The headmaster said nothing, and my heart began to feel heavy. Was this to be the end of all my ambitions, everything I had worked for - would it be taken away from me because I hadn't known how to accept it unearned? I was more than learned enough already to go become an acolyte at some small provincial shrine, but I doubted my newly acknowledged social position would allow for that. It seemed, at that moment, that the court life would be all that was open to me.
"It's been…" I began haltingly, in response to Headmaster Miki's stony silence. "It's been an honor to study here…"
"I told you not to grovel," the headmaster scoffed, cutting me off once more. "You talk as if we were going to throw you out." My head shot back up at that, eyes wide. Did he really mean…? "Oh yes," he assured me, correctly reading my astonishment. "The Royal Academy of Fire Bending would need far greater cause to expel the son of the Fire Lord."
"But I thought…" I protested weakly.
"Do you want to be expelled?" Headmaster Miki asked dryly, raising one eyebrow.
"No, sir!" I replied hastily. "I just thought...you were right, about how I...well, I lied to get in."
"You did," the headmaster agreed with a nod. "But I think even now you do not fully understand your position. Let me make this clear." He folded his hands, leaning forward slightly on his elbows. "As a child of the Fire Lord - even an illegitimate one - this is your rightful place. You belong here." Then, with something almost like a wry grin, he added, "But in the future, I expect your tuition will be paid out of the royal coffers."
Amazed at this turn, I actually laughed. "I'm sure Zuko has every intention of that already." Then, at another raised eyebrow from the headmaster, I corrected myself. "The Fire Lord, I mean."
The headmaster shook his head. "I suppose I'll forgive you a little informality, just between us," he said. "After all, he is your father."
I felt a pang of guilt, suddenly haunted by the memory of Aang's eyes red from crying, less than a year ago. It made me feel unaccountably homesick, for all my relief at being told that this was where I belonged, here in the Fire Nation at the academy. What I really wanted was to be there, to pursue my studies and become a fire sage, but to do it all as Aang's son.
But that, of course, would never have been possible.
Soon the headmaster let me go, after a few more questions and the decision that I would aid him in reviewing the new candidates who would apply for the military scholarship, now that it was opening up again. I gathered this would involve a great deal of paperwork, but even so it was a rather light punishment, and making Zuko pay for my education was hardly any burden on me, either. But the headmaster had also impressed upon me that now that it was known that I was the Fire Lord's son, expectations would also be higher - not just for my academic performance, but for my overall comportment.
With that sobering thought, I was dismissed and told to go join my classmates for breakfast.
I wasn't hungry enough to relish the thought of facing everyone in the dining hall, knowing they would all have been talking about me. Hoping for a few more precious moments of anonymous solitude, I decided to give breakfast a miss and head back to my room in the dormitories instead. But when I got to my room, I found Aza and Iyego waiting for me there - the former seated on the floor across from my door, the latter leaning against the wall next to it.
"Hey, Bumi," Iyego said with ironic cheerfulness, arms crossed over his chest. "Anything interesting happen while you were gone?"
"Don't talk to him like that," Aza scolded, as if I wasn't standing right there. Looking up at Iyego from the floor, he wasn't particularly intimidating anyway. "Isn't he a prince or something now?"
"No," I said sharply. Zuko had granted me a courtesy title in order to make me officially a member of the court, but being the lord of an island that ten people lived on was hardly an exalted rank. The whole point of going public, after all, was to reassure people that I was not angling for royal status. "I'm no prince."
"Just a royal bastard," Iyego said flatly, even his façade of cheerfulness gone. It made him sound more like his usual dour self, and that, in spite of the implied insult, put me more at ease than Aza's anxious deference. Of the two, only Iyego had so far managed to look me in the eye.
"Believe me," I said, matching Iyego's disaffected tone. "I liked being a nobody a lot better."
Iyego nodded, accepting the explanation as I opened the door and headed into my room. Like all the dormitories, it was not exceedingly spacious. My friends followed me inside, Aza shutting the door behind him as I threw myself onto the bed, and Iyego took the desk chair, slouching with his legs sprawled in front of him. Aza was left with the choice of either sitting on the floor again or remaining awkwardly on his feet, and settled on the latter.
"Was the Fire Lord really angry?" Aza asked. Iyego snorted at what must have seemed like a dumb question.
"Well, yeah," I replied, rolling over onto my back and shrugging at the ceiling. "Whoever wrote those pamphlets was obviously looking to cause trouble." And they had succeeded, I thought. Zuko was just doing damage control now. "But the truth had to come out eventually."
"So they don't…" Aza began hesitantly. "They still have no idea who did it?"
Before I could answer, Iyego scoffed again. "If the Fire Lord did know who was responsible, and hadn't chosen to make that knowledge public, then Bumi would have no business telling the likes of us."
"Can we drop it?" I asked irritably, not wanting to admit that Iyego was right. I'd come here looking to avoid these kinds of questions, after all.
"Oh, sure," Iyego replied. "Let's talk about something else - like who you really are."
"You know who I really am," I shot back.
"Actually," Aza said, making an awkward gesture with one hand, index finger raised as if trying to assert a point, "we kind of don't. I mean, we thought we knew you, but then this…" He waved his hand vaguely in no particular direction. "Well, you're not really from the old colonies, for one thing."
"I lived in Republic City for years," I argued, pushing myself up into a sitting position on the bed so I could look Aza properly in the face. He cast his eyes downward. "I went to school in Fire Fountain City, I served in the navy, I have two younger siblings back home - everything I ever told you about myself was true."
"You have three younger siblings," Iyego corrected me. "And you said you never knew your father."
"I said my father wasn't around to teach me firebending," I replied, glaring at Iyego. "And he wasn't." But neither of my friends seemed assuaged by the technicality. Lies of omission were still lies.
"Look, it's...whatever," Iyego said with a shrug after a tense moment. "It was a big secret, we get it, you couldn't tell us." Aza opened his mouth as if to interject, but Iyego held up a hand to silence him, and his mouth snapped shut again. "We just want to know where we stand," Iyego concluded.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed so I was facing Iyego. "You guys are my friends," I said, looking between them. "Nothing's changed."
"Bumi," Iyego replied, shaking his head. "You can be such an idiot sometimes."
Soon enough, I would learn he was right. I may have been sincere in my friendship, but I couldn't cover up the fact that everything had changed.
When I finally rejoined the general population of the academy, I discovered to my horror that I was now the center of a schism among the elite students and their families. Some, who had treated me with cool politeness before, were suddenly eager to be my best friends - presumably in hopes of currying favor via my newly discovered proximity to the Fire Lord. The rest, who had treated me no differently prior to the revelations, now wanted even less to do with me. These at least were more firm in their principles, unwilling to stoop to flattery, and unambiguous about their disdain for the Fire Lord's dishonorable conduct that had led to my existence.
Aza's father fell into the former category, and Iyego's into the latter, which put both of them into an awkward position. Aza meant well, but subtle he was not, and I could always tell when he was parroting things his father had told him to say. Iyego, on the other hand, was so eager to defy his family that he made a point of being seen with me in public as often as possible. I found all of this exhausting.
My one consolation was that now that everyone knew Izumi and I were siblings, we would no longer need any pretense to spend time together. Izumi didn't board at the lower school, obviously, so she didn't spend as much time on campus as I did, but if she wanted to use her midday break to take a walk around the school grounds with her brother, this was perfectly acceptable. It was advantageous, even, since it further reassured everyone that the two of us were on friendly terms and not rivals for the crown.
Izumi didn't even joke about such things anymore.
It was as we made our way through a maple grove on the outskirts of the school grounds on one of these walks, a few weeks after the big announcement, that she solemnly informed me the Fire Lord had received word from the chief of the Sun Warriors. Ran and Shaw's egg had hatched - a young male dragon, healthy and sound, red in color like Roku's mount had been.
"That's good news," I said, glad to have some for a change. I was still hoping that this happy event would take some of the focus of the court off of me.
"Well, yes," Izumi agreed with considerably less enthusiasm, stopping under the shade of a tree. She reached out with one hand, idly tracing lines on the trunk. "But there was more to the message."
"They were planning to offer the dragon to Zuko, right?" I asked, hooking one arm over a low branch. The tree wasn't really big enough for climbing, so I kept both feet on the ground.
"They were," Izumi replied. "But it looks like the chief had a change of heart." She let her hand fall from the tree trunk, tucking her arms around her waist instead. "They've offered the dragon to me instead."
I stared at my sister in amazement for a moment. Her head was bowed, as if under the weight of this offer. "Izumi," I finally breathed. "That's a great honor." And I was only happy for her, so much so that I did not realize the full implication of what the offer meant.
"A great honor that Dad isn't worthy of," Izumi said quietly.
I stood straighter, letting my arm fall from the branch. "Is that what the Sun Warriors said?" I asked in disbelief.
"Not in so many words," Izumi replied with a shrug. "But everything they said about me...Roku's heir, redemption of Sozin's bloodline, scion of a new era, promise of hope for the future of our nation...that was him, Bumi." She looked up at me, her eyes shining. "You know that was him. Until…"
"Until me," I finished for her, understanding finally sinking in. I was the proof of Zuko's moral failing, his betrayal of the hope his reign was supposed to represent. "I'm sorry."
"It's his own fault, obviously," she said with a huff of annoyance, blinking back her tears. "But everyone believed in him, you know? I believed in him. And if even he couldn't live up to that..." She cast her eyes helplessly upwards, towards the canopy of leaves just turning to their autumnal shade of dark red. "How am I supposed to do it?"
I fought down a stab of anger in my heart as I reached out and took her hand. "You can," I told her firmly. "You're not…"
"Not like him?" Izumi cut me off roughly, her gaze snapping back to meet mine. "You don't think everyone said the same thing about Dad and his father?"
"Well, they were right about that," I insisted. The Water Tribes might have been less than happy with the Fire Nation, and sure the Avatar was no longer speaking to the Fire Lord, but war had not broken out over it. "Zuko's not like Ozai. He's made his own mistakes." I took hold of Izumi's other hand. "And maybe one day you'll make your own, too, but my point is, the Sun Warriors have given you a blessing they never gave him."
"They've only done it to insult him," Izumi replied dismissively. "To tell everyone he's not good enough."
"Maybe," I agreed with a shrug, not letting go of her hands. "But they're also telling everyone that you are."
"And how would they know?" Izumi scoffed. "They've never met me."
Everything I had read about the Sun Warriors, about their spirituality and wisdom came rushing into my head, and I was ready to argue the point on academic terms...but I stopped myself. When it came down to it, I'd never met any of the Sun Warriors, either. And a lecture on their culture wasn't what Izumi needed.
"Well, I know you are," I responded instead. "And I'm your older brother, so I think that counts for something."
That got a little smile out of her at last. "Oh, now you want to play the older brother card," she chided. It was the closest she'd come to her old joke about me taking her place in the line of succession.
"Yes," I said, pulling her into a hug. "I'm completely mercenary about it."
A few weeks later, Izumi left the capital on her first official state visit without Zuko, to meet the chief of the Sun Warriors and accept his gift of the dragon hatchling.
I had sent off hasty, apologetic letters to Aang and my mother just before the official announcement, warning them what was coming. Around the same time that the news of the dragon hatchling had arrived, I had finally heard back from them.
Aang's letter opened with a few terse, resigned words to the effect that he had known something like this would happen sooner or later, and he didn't hold anything against me. He then went on to describe with far more enthusiasm his travels with Kya and Tenzin in the Earth Kingdom. After a formal visit to Ba Sing Se, they had gone on to Omashu to ride the mail chutes - which Aang insisted I would have to do myself someday, in honor of my namesake - and were heading to the Foggy Swamp next. Kya was looking forward to learning from the waterbenders there.
It made me miss them all, of course, but Aang's letter was also a comfort in its own way. I was glad to hear things seemed to be better between him and Kya, and that my youngest siblings' lives were going on undisturbed by the controversy swirling around me. As much as they could, at least. There was no mention anywhere in the letter of my mother.
She sent a reply of her own, which took a bit longer to get to me from the South Pole. It was a short message, which I still remember:
Dear Bumi,
It couldn't be helped, and it's probably for the best. I hope your studies won't be affected. I know how important they are to you.
I'll be staying at the South Pole for a while longer.
Love,
Mom
I wrote a letter back to Aang, talking about how my studies were progressing as I always did, and sharing the news about the dragons, though I was sure he didn't need me to tell him that. Since Kya and Tenzin were the ones off having adventures now while I was stuck in one place, I asked them to tell me about any interesting shrines or temples they visited. I had seen very little of the Earth Kingdom myself, after all.
Though sending and receiving letters could be complicated while they were traveling so much, my siblings did their best to comply with my request, and all of us kept up a friendly correspondence in which we managed to avoid all the difficult subjects, as if we were just a normal family staying in touch.
I made one or two more efforts at writing to my mother as well. But her replies were always so long in coming, and so curt, I soon found myself at a loss, and gave up. If she missed my letters, she never wrote to me to say so.
The notoriously reclusive Sun Warriors had given Izumi a warm reception, and she returned to the capital with a baby dragon in tow. To my immense relief, this finally did give the student body something more exciting than me to talk about.
But before the little dragonling was presented to the world, I was invited to the palace to meet him. It was the first time I had returned to the palace since my presentation to the court, and thus the first time I arrived through the private entrance without Izumi there to accompany me. I was met by servant who informed me that the Princess was waiting in the private gardens, and began to lead the way.
"I do know where the gardens are," I said, not expecting anything to come of it. But to my surprise, the servant stopped and stood aside.
"Of course, sir," he said, and held out one hand to indicate I could continue down the corridor on my own. "Will that be all then?"
"I guess so," I replied, with rather less formality. With a stiff bow from the neck, the servant took his leave. "Huh," I said to myself, under my breath. "I guess royal bastards are allowed to roam the palace." Being a recognized member of the royal family was not without its advantages after all.
I knew my sister was waiting for me, and I was eager to see the young dragon of course. But I also relished this newfound freedom, and allowed myself to linger. The halls of the royal palace were adorned with countless works of Fire Nation art - tapestries and vases and paintings and statues, some very ancient, some quite new, a few that had been hidden away during Sozin's reign recently restored to their places of honor.
The tapestry of the sun and moon spirits would certainly have been one such piece. For one thing, Sozin had outlawed anthropomorphized depictions of Agni, restricting the great spirit's representation to only the stylized flame that was also the Fire Lord's crown. For another, such a scene of cooperation between the elements would never have been tolerated during the war.
It was in front of this tapestry that I crossed paths with another visitor to the palace who was not allowed to wander the halls without an escort. Tenaguk was the ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe, a proud man with graying hair and hard ice-blue eyes. He had been present for my official introduction to the court, his blue and silver robes as flawlessly pressed then as they were now. Our interaction had only been brief, but I hadn't forgotten him.
As he passed by, led by another servant presumably towards some meeting with the Fire Lord, I offered him a small nod and a "Good morning, ambassador." Tenaguk halted, met my eye, and then glanced at the tapestry behind me. Belatedly, I realized that what had seemed to me an uncommonly friendly depiction of another element in Fire Nation art, might look quite different to Water Tribe eyes. The moon spirit was kneeling, after all, while Agni stood upright, clearly in the dominant position. And the Fire Lord's bastard by a respected Water Tribe woman standing in front of it certainly did not suggest the most charitable of interpretations.
Tenaguk met my eye again, and then quite deliberately continued on his way without a word. The poor servant who was meant to be his guide had to scurry to keep ahead of him.
I let out a sigh of frustration once they had rounded a corner. Perhaps giving me free reign of the palace corridors had been a mistake after all. Deciding I had done enough damage, I hurried on to the gardens to find Izumi.
My sister wasn't hard to locate. Wearing a relatively plain red dress, she was sprawled in the grass playing with the scaly, gangly creature I had come to meet. They made quite a pair, the princess and the dragon, like something out of a fairy tale.
The little dragon was barely longer than Izumi's arm, with delicate, dark red wings, and knobbly claws, still quite blunt. As I watched, it reared up on its hind legs, flapped its wings uselessly - for it was far too young to fly - and exhaled a tiny lick of flame, a rich orange in color and probably not very hot. Still, the flame looked like it came uncomfortably close to Izumi's face, but she did not so much as flinch. Instead, she responded in kind, breathing fire back at the dragon, who fell back onto all four legs and scampered into her lap, making a mewling sort of noise that was, dare I say, almost cute.
Izumi ran one hand down the glossy scales on the dragon's back, then looked up at me with a smile. "Bumi," she said, picking up the little dragon and turning him to face me. "Meet Druk."
I stared down at the little creature in awe, unable to keep myself from smiling as well. Objectively a baby dragon is nowhere near as majestic as an adult, but I had only ever seen the adults in pictures. This was a real, living, fire-breathing dragon before me, with bright, intelligent eyes that tracked my movements as I slowly crouched down in the grass next to Izumi. "He's amazing," I said softly.
At the sound of my voice, Druk shrank back uncertainly, but Izumi breathed another gentle flame against his cheek, which seemed to reassure him. "That's what the mother dragons do," Izumi explained at my questioning look. "If you show him your fire, too, he'll probably feel better about you."
Not feeling worthy of breathing fire at a dragon, I held out a small flame in my hand instead. Druk sniffed at it cautiously, then rubbed his cheek against my palm. Unlike a common lizard, his scales were warm to the touch.
"See, you're a natural," Izumi said. Druk withdrew from my hand, let out a smoky yawn, and then tucked his nose under one wing and let his eyes drift shut, apparently content to nap in Izumi's arms now that I was no longer a stranger.
"Not as much as you," I replied. Really, it was something to see how easily she interacted with Druk, almost as if she were a mother dragon herself. What a formidable Fire Lady she was going to make one day.
"Oh, please," Izumi said dismissively. "I was completely hopeless at first. The Sun Warriors had to teach me everything."
"What was it like?" I asked, still watching the sleeping dragon in her arms. "Meeting them?"
"Terrifying, really," Izumi replied in a low voice. "They're so serious, and so powerful, and you take one look at their chief and you just know you wouldn't have been able to get anywhere near them or the dragons if he didn't allow it." She shifted Druk slightly, and he lazily opened one eye, then closed it again. "But they know so much about firebending...it was a great privilege to be able to learn from them."
"Of course," I said wistfully. Izumi gave me a sympathetic look, but said no more. We both knew that, between the two of us, I could probably learn even more from the Sun Warriors than she could. But they would never allow it. The training, the dragon - these honors were for her, as the legitimately begotten heir to the throne.
I was only the Fire Lord's bastard.
