Wow, thanks for all the reviews everyone! You made me really happy. So, in case any of you are confused or haven't figured it out yet, this story is going to be Ozai-centered, rather than Zuko-centered. Feel free to send me any questions!

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender is the sole property of the people at Nick.

Last time:
It was autumn once more, but not really. It was the time of year when the brilliant red hues of the leaves changed to dead brown. The sun wasn't shining. The world was not all right, whether or not your ignored the war.
They're Coming: Chapter Two – Mourning

Lady Aiko had died during that time when autumn changes to winter. The leaves, like Aiko, were dead. What fun was it to jump in piles of rotting leaves? What joy could Ozai get from hugging a dead woman? None. None at all.

Fire Lord Ozai had been attending to typical warlord duties: plotting, scheming, meeting, and encouraging his troops before he sent them on suicide missions. For three years, he had been massacring villages and destroying families. And for three years, he hasn't set foot on the shores of Lyoko. Nor has he seen his wife and child. In short, he was avoiding them.

His heir was one of the reasons. What was his name again? It eluded him for the moment, but that didn't matter. What mattered was respect. Respect and admiration. Ozai wanted to return home to a waiting wife and strong son who looked up to him. A son that practically worshipped the ground his glorious father tread on.

There were a number of reasons as to why Ozai left his throne for so long. But Aiko was not one of them. Ozai loved his wife. That's why he married her. She was like a rose. She had the most beautiful silky hair, bright amber eyes, and palest skin he had ever seen. There was always the faint scent of roses about her. Every rose has its thorns, you know. And that's what made Aiko perfect. She had no thorns, no flaws. She was absolute perfection.

Ozai unconsciously wanted his older brother to be jealous of him. He wanted Iroh to want Aiko, to be mad with lust. But that never happened. Iroh expressed only friendly attraction towards her, he never gave any hints that he coveted Ozai's wife. So, as always, Ozai had nothing Iroh wanted: not the throne, and not Aiko.

Not Aiko. Ozai no longer had Aiko. She was dead. A messenger had told him a few hours ago. He was currently on a ship towards Lyoko, from a small unconquered island in the Earth Kingdom. Try to imagine Ozai's shock, anger, and agony when he heard 'Lady Aiko died chasing Prince Zuko.' There was more, but Ozai had no wish to hear it. He sent the messenger away.

His son had killed his beloved wife. Lady Aiko was no weak. She was a well-trained firebender. Honestly, it wasn't so much as her death that shocked Ozai as who had done it. Ozai would have felt better if Aiko had died from a fatal disease, an assassination attempt, or even of a broken heart. But no. She died because of the mass of flesh and bone she nursed for three years.

It would be dawn in a few hours. The messenger had come in the middle of the night. Upon hearing the terrible news, Ozai immediately boarded the fastest ship back to Lyoko. The journey would take several hours. In his room, Ozai had plenty of time to reflect on Aiko's passing.

His son had killed his wife. There was no way Ozai could have spawned such a ruthless monster. What kind of beast enjoyed devouring the hearts of innocent women? And at only three years of age no less. Ozai came to a decision. His son would never rule the Fire Nation. Never. Ozai was able to catch a few hours of sleep before they arrived at Lyoko. But his dreams were nightmares all about Aiko's death.

Aiko was running through the marble halls of the palace. There weren't any candles or torches lit, as there should be at night. The hallways were lit only by light that radiated from the full moon. Aiko was panting, leaning against the wall for support. Her amber eyes darted around, looking for someone. Behind her a shadowy creature on all fours appeared. It had beady red eyes, grossly overgrown nails, and made growling noises as it approached Aiko. Ozai stepped in front of his wife, trying to protect her. But the creature passed right through him, sending chills down his spine. Ozai spun around, to see Aiko cowering, trying to shield herself. The creature was on top of her. Ozai's eyes wondered, Aiko screamed. The beast tore out her heart.

Ozai bolted upright in bed. It was nearly noon. What just happened? Was it a nightmare or a vision? Sometime during the remainder of the trip, Ozai lost sight of what really happened. His mind replaced the innocent face of a three year old with that of a ruthless murderer. Aiko was no longer chasing Prince Zuko; she was trying to escape his evil clutches.

A horn sounded, signifying to all crew members and passengers that they had arrived at Lyoko. On the docks, a carriage was waiting for Ozai. He stepped in and they sped off to the palace. The palace was enormous. Aside from the five-leveled palace itself, the grounds around it were very extensive. There were acres of wilderness behind the palace, and that was where Aiko had died.

Echoes created by Ozai's boots as he walked down the hallways sounded. His marble corridors didn't seem so magnificent anymore. It was empty. Really empty. There were no servants milling about, no voices talking, and no music was being played. It reminded Ozai of his dream. There was no life. Ozai opened his bedroom doors, only to find no one. Absolutely no one. Who was he expecting A set of course white robs had been laid out on his bed. The traditional mourning attire of the Fire Nation. Ozai wished it was summer. The robes were awfully thin, nearly threadbare, and it was almost winter. He silently scolded himself. Aiko was dead, and all he could think about was how cold it was? Shame. Making sure he was presentable, Ozai walked out of his room and into the empty halls. He was surprised to see General Iroh waiting for him, dressed in similar robes.

"Good afternoon brother." Iroh said, in the most pleasant tone of voice he could manage.

"Good afternoon to you as well."

"Aiko's death was a terrible tragedy. We—"Ozai cut him off.

"How?" Nothing would have pleased Ozai at the moment more than to strangle the demon-child.

"I'm sorry, come again?" How? How what?

"How could Aiko have died? She was so strong…"

"Well…Accidents happen. She received a concussion, developed a high fever, and just…didn't recover." Iroh had never seen his brother look so vulnerable.

A flash of anger flickered across Ozai's features. "The wretched brat gave Aiko a concussion?"

"What? Aiko bumped her head on a tree stump while chasing your son." Ozai nearly hissed. Zuko was not his son.

"Don't call him that."

Iroh's eyes narrowed. "Very well then. Lady Aiko was chasing Prince Zuko when she bumped her head, Your Majesty."

Ozai frowned and gritted his teeth. Why was his brother so insensitive? "Why was she chasing him?"

"They were playing a game. Lady Aiko tripped over a log. Now, are you quite done interrogating me, Your Majesty?

Iroh received a glare from his brother, and in response, glared right back. "You will not address me in that tone. Is that understood, General?"

"Of course, little brother. I'm sorry, I mean, Your Majesty. "Iroh said with mock-respect, not missing what his brother was implying.

They continued walking in silence, and passed the South Gate. They were now entering the woodland beyond the palace. Iroh sighed. Why was it the older brother's obligation to make amends? Why?

"At least, that's what I heard from the servants that were there. I haven't gotten a chance to speak with your charming son. I figured you would prefer to do the honors."

"Honors?" Yes, Ozai could see it now. Dressing in his finest garbs and bowing down to a three year old.

"He hasn't been acting right since Aiko's death. He locked himself in his room and hasn't eaten much. He only came out for the ceremony. Quite frankly, I'm worried. I though it would be good for your, how should we say, your questionable bond with Zuko. If you were the first one to talk to him after the accident, I'm positive you two will establish an everlasting bond. He really looks up to you, you know."

"Is that so? Very well. Find him and bring him to me." They reached the forest clearing and parted.

Red lanterns with Aiko's name painted on them hung from the surrounding trees. The sun was high above them, but not directly above. Ozai guessed it to be a little past noon. The tree stump Aiko supposedly hit her head on was near the edge of the clearing. Ozai made his way towards Aiko.

Aiko, or rather, her body, was laid out on plush red velvet cushions decorated with gold tassels in the center of the clearing. She was dressed in clothes finer than any she had worn while alive. She wore a strapless gown the same shade or red as a rose. Gold embroidery, glitter, and sparkles covered the dress. The dress had the same delicacy, elegance, and luxurious feel of real rose petals. It left Ozai wondering exactly what the dress was made of.

A simple pendant hung around her neck. It was of glass with pigments of red and orange inside, creating the illusion of flames. A silk shawl intertwined her arms. Rubies and garnets were threaded in her hair. Her earrings were made of gold and pearls. Bracelets and rings adorned her wrists and fingers. She wore no shoes. The only embellishments to her feet were a pair of gold and silver anklets with tiny bells around each ankle.

And her face. It seemed to Ozai that Aiko was more angelic now than ever and her lips dropped into a slight frown. Flowers and gifts were carefully laid around the cushions. It occurred to Ozai that he had forgotten to bring her gift, and that he had nothing to give her. What could she want? His love? He had already vowed to love her always, many times in the past. The leaves rustled. Aiko's spirit would not be satisfied with something it already had.

The sounds of tiny feet reached Ozai's ears. Only a child or a well trained assassin could make such soft footsteps. He turned away from Aiko to look at the newcomer, surprised to see it was a child. The wind blew harder, pushing Ozai towards the little boy and vice versa. Iroh made eye contact with Ozai and nodded.

Ozai kneeled down on one knee, placed one hand on the boy's slender shoulder, and stared deep into the child's eyes. The child had Aiko's pale skin and lovely amber eyes. Said amber eyes were staring back at him. Ozai sighed. This was the face of the heartless murderer Ozai had painted on the voyage back home.

In an act of kindness that would stay embedded in Zuko's memory for the rest of his life, Ozai pulled Zuko into a hug. The wind swirled around them, isolating them from the rest of the world. Zuko cried into his father's shoulder. An act of weakness Ozai would come to despise later in life. Gongs sounded and the wind released its captives back to the world. Father and son broke out of the embrace. Ozai took Zuko's hand and led him away from Aiko, whose lips were turned upwards, in a satisfied smile.

They kneeled on the ground next to Iroh as the priest began the ceremony. The priest, like everyone else gathered, wore coarse white robes. People elsewhere in the world, like on the tiny island on the verge of being conquered, celebrated. The natives of the island dressed in their finest and had a festival; cheering Aiko's passing, glad that they were safe. Or maybe they took primitive pleasure in someone else's suffering.

Several hours later, the sun was setting. The cremation began. Ozai walked up to Aiko, wrapped his hands around her cold ones, and created fire. Sparks caught on to the cushions, flowers, gifts, gown, and shawl. The rest of the cremation would consist of Ozai making sure the fire didn't burn out. The flute and Songhi horn players played a sad haunting melody that left those who heard it feel empty. Aiko's mother broke down and cried, seeking comfort in her husband.

Zuko wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He felt dead from the bitter cold. His Uncle Iroh had told him that one was not allowed to seek any physical comfort during a funeral. Zuko would just have to wait until they returned to the palace. For now, he'd have to settle for standing next to the fire consuming Aiko.

The stars lit up the night sky. It was over. The lanterns were being launched by arrows into the endless black gauze of night. The musicians continued with their haunting song, bells chimed, and it was time to leave. Ozai and Zuko walked up front, Iroh behind them, then Aiko's parents, and the rest followed in no particular order. Zuko stopped and looked back. There was nothing left of his mother but ashes. Nothing, but ashes and memories.

Ozai looked up at the black expanse of space. Was Aiko there? Hard to imagine so. The sky looked as empty as he felt. A sigh escaped his lips and a single, solitary tear trickled down his cheek. Or perhaps it was a snowflake, melting upon contact with his skin. Ozai didn't know. He was too numb to feel anything.

Hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

Next time:
Aiko's parents mysteriously disappear, and a new guardian must be found for Zuko. Who's this? Could it be…Zhao! He's offering to let Zuko live with his wife and daughter. What's he up to? Scenes from the siege at Ba Sing Se, Iroh's retirement, and Zuko's first bit of firebending, coming up next chapter!