"You will fight!" came the thunderous voice of fire lord Ozai.
"Please, father, I meant no disrespect. I only had the fire nation's best interests at heart," said prince Zuko, kneeling before his enraged father and king.
"You will fight for your honor," came the unrelenting reply. Pleadingly, Zuko implored his father to understand.
"I am your loyal son."
"You will learn respect," boomed the fire lord, "and suffering will be your teacher."
The fourteen-year-old prince's screams reverberated through the entire arena as the flames around the agni kai platform rose higher and higher.
Prince Zuko awoke suddenly, his breathing fast and shallow. Sitting up slowly, his hand moved reflexively to the scar that surrounded his left eye. He remembered the words his uncle had said to him, right before his duel with Admiral Zhao.
"Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened the last time you dueled a master?"
"I will never forget," Zuko had replied. And he never would.
How could he forget when almost every night the same duel recurred within his nightmares? How could he forget when every time he looked in a mirror the reminder of that duel looked back at him? Sighing, Zuko stood up and crossed the room to sit in front of his meditation shrine. With each breath he exhaled, the candle flames in front of him rose and expanded. A soft knock on the door broke into his musings.
"Come in," he said. Zuko's uncle, Iroh, silently came into the prince's small chamber.
"What is it, uncle?" Zuko asked, still staring at the wall in front of him.
"There are reports that the Avatar is making his way to the North Pole. He should reach it in a few days." Zuko nodded.
"Then we will follow." Iroh nodded, then bowed.
"Of course. Good night, Prince Zuko." Before his uncle could open the door, however, Zuko spoke.
"Uncle," he said quietly.
"Yes?"
"If I ask you something, will you tell me what you really think?"
"Of course, Prince Zuko." The young prince turned to look at his uncle.
"If I do succeed in capturing the Avatar, do you think my father will really let me come home?" Iroh sighed.
"Honestly, my nephew, I could not say. My brother is not known for his compassion, but I suspect you know that already."
"Yes," Zuko said bitterly, "that I do know." Several silent moments passed before Iroh spoke again.
"Zuko," he said softly, "there is something I think you should understand." Iroh waited until the younger man's eyes had met his. "The way your father handled things that day…it wasn't fair…"
"You don't have to say anything, uncle," Zuko said hurriedly.
"Yes, I do," came the forceful reply. Iroh took a deep breath, then continued. "Your father may not have understood what you did that day, but I do. You did not refuse to fight him out of fear or weakness. You simply could not bring yourself to duel your father. You showed respect and temperance, and he repaid you with betrayal and cruelty. Why do you think I insisted on joining your crew? I knew you would need someone to look out for you. I'm sorry that my brother never did so, my nephew." A small smile appeared on Zuko's face.
"That's all right, uncle. You've been more of a father to me that he ever was anyway." Iroh smiled as well, then turned to open the door. Before he closed it behind him, though, he spoke again, his voice low.
"In my eyes you have always had honor, my nephew."
The door closed softly. Zuko sat in silence for a long time. That night, the dream of the fateful agni kai recurred once more, but it was different this time. This time, as he was entreating his father for mercy and as his pleas were rejected, his uncle was at his side.