This is a tale of honor, courage, and loyalty -the things that moved nations- where love falls back and the warrior codes of the time take the stage. More than one hundred years after the Fire Nation went to war against the Middle Kingdom and the other nations, and just more than two after the honorable Prince Zuko was exiled, a woman of honor -driven by honor, with honor as the promised reward- and rank searches the world over for the one thing that can restore her land to what it is meant to be.

End with Honor

6. Shards of Hope

The sun set in a glorious reign of fiery hues over the Fire Nation's capital. Reds, oranges, yellows, and pinks set the metal sparkling and the cloth aflame; the last real light before the torches lit. The whole city looked spectacular, robed in the colors of its name and element.

At this hour, where normally the city would be settling down to sleep, it seemed to erupt into a life that it had not seen in daylight for years. After the loss of their prince and princess, and with the Avatar's return -and steadily increasing powers- the whole place had fallen into despair. But now, with news that Admiral Zhao was bringing home not just the captured Avatar, but their long-lost princess, the city was alive like it had not been for the last two years. Children dressed in their best played outside, eagerly waiting the festival; bright-eyed girls skipped off buy new kimono or meet their lovers; young boys played warrior in the streets with wooden swords carved hours before, while their older counterparts sneaked off into the Forbidden Alleyways. Men kissed their wives in greeting after coming home from their work, while women of all ages set about finishing up the last of the cooking.

The whole place had turned out, clothed in ceremonial dress, with spirits soaring like the phoenix itself. Last night the wonderful news had reached them, and they had spent all that night and well into the next day preparing an impromptu festival the likes of which had not happened for many, many years. Everyone in the capital city, old to young, knew that this would be a night to remember.

Five hours later, and the festival was still in full swing. Attractions and booths of all kinds were stacked everywhere. People of all ages were having the time if their lives, but the current revelries hardly compared at all to what was to come at dawn. It was then that their Lady, Mingeline, would speak to them from the palace, and it was then that the Avatar would be brought to shame. Not killed, for every adult knew that to kill him would be to start the whole wretched affair over again. But they had suffered, and so, now he would suffer.

Five miles south, the Animosity had just reached port. Zhao was first down the ramp of his ship, smug and sinister as ever. Nothing could stop him now. The whole ship had been checked for potential rescuers, and there would be nobody to help the Avatar in the capital. He was guaranteed another promotion. Everything was going his way.

Just then, the two captives were brought up from below deck. One, Aang, was fighting tooth and nail to get free. It was taking over ten of Zhao's men to restrain him, and still it was tough going. He held on to his life with a flaming intensity that made many of the passersby step back in fear. But Ming-Na walked like a convict to her execution: head down, face hollow. Her eyes were blank, her whole person filthy. She seemed not to care about the world around her, nor what lay ahead. There was no spark left in her. Just cold, cold nothingness. Her heart was a barren glacial world, devoid of life or love or anything that made life worth living. But, yet, even if she had the chance to kill herself…she just couldn't. It was impossible for her to have enough passion left to even end it all.

Zhao and his men took the back ways up to the palace, avoiding everyone. No one was to see the two captives until dawn, where Ming-Na would address her people, and Aang would 'get what he deserved'. But secretly the Admiral harbored a fear inside him. The breaking of Princess Mingeline had been perfect. But now he saw that it was too perfect. How could she address the capital now? There was no way; she might even start spouting waste like 'We're wrong about the war' and 'The Avatar is right'. Hyo-Lee would have his head for sure if her daughter came home like this.

Zhao beckoned for one of his younger guards, a man in his late teens, to come forward. "Talk to her, Shen." Zhao barked. He would not plead.

"What?" the young soldier did a double take from his superior to the broken princess. "Her?"

"Yes, her." Zhao was losing his temper. He was so irate that he didn't even notice the lack of proper respect. "Or do you want the wrath of the Fire Lady on your head…?"

"N-No, sir, not at all. But…what do I talk to her about?"

"Whatever works!" Zhao hissed; then stalked off toward the front of the little band of soldiers.

Shen hesitated a second longer, then fell into step with Ming-Na. "I'll take over her guard." He said to the man watching her, who nodded, keen to get away from the creepy dead-like look in the young woman's eyes.

"So, princess…um…" what do you talk about to a princess, no less a princess who ran away to help the banished prince and ended up taking the side of their worst enemy only to be taken home by one of her own biggest enemies? Ah, of course…the weather. "Nice night." No reply can from her, not even a nod or shake of a head. Her eyes, though, stared at him; right at him, without blinking. He squirmed inside; they did look like something from the face of a woman dead.

"Uh…" he tried again. "How about the festival, huh? I bet you haven't been to one of these since you were a kid."

Again, a silence came back to him, and this time he did not try to talk again. Somehow, talking made things worse. After what seemed an eternity to the young soldier, they reached the palace. Quickly Ming-Na was unchained –to keep up appearances- and Zhao stepped back as the doors opened. As one, four girls rushed forward..

These were Mingeline's handmaidens, a set of quadruplets who had been selected to serve the princess. They all had wide violet eyes, and pale golden hair. These four were sacred girls, thought to be a gift from Agni to the princess. They each wore a pale pink linen dress that had short, wide sleeves and ended at the knees. Their names were Ziyi, Rie, Yume, and Lin.

As one, they rushed over to Ming-Na, looking worried and flustered. "Lady Hyo-Lee has requested you be ready in full ceremonial dress in half an hour!" Ziyi said hurriedly. She was the leader of the four, the most outspoken and opinionated. Rie took one of Ming-Na's arms, and Yume the other, and they both led her from the soldiers. These two might've shared the same soul, for they were identical in every aspect of their being. Only Lin stayed behind. Lin, the youngest emotionally. She was gentle and kind, almost like an angel, without a single mean bone in her body. Only she noticed the look in her charge's eyes. Only she noticed, and as such, it was she who turned to Zhao and, in a voice none who knew her would've guessed she possessed, said "You will pay for what you did to Lady Ming."

"Oh, I don't think so, little girl. It's on your head now; yours and your sisters'." And with that, he turned and left, glad to be rid of the girl. His soldiers turned and led the Avatar to the dungeons, to let him rot until it was time for him to bleed.

The four sisters hurried Ming-Na to her room, talking to her all the while. Ziyi spoke of how her mother was enraged that her daughter had exiled herself like she had. Rie and Yume spoke as one about the way the city had become so lifeless after both the prince and princess had left. But Lin did not talk at all, save for hushed murmurings in Ming-Na's ear as she stroked her hair and rubbed her back.

Once inside, they rushed their princess to a stool in front of a full-length mirror. "Her Highness wants you ready for an audience in half an hour, so you must get ready." Ziyi said, rushing to the wardrobe and pulling out a dark red kimono. Rie and Yume hurried to work on Ming-Na's hair, first brushing it and quickly cleaning it, then they pulled it up into the ceremonial style: twisted up in the back to the left side, and held in place with a jeweled comb that trailed gossamer-fine strings of jewels after it. Lin sat beside their broken princess, stroking her hair and mumbling something inaudible in her ear.

Soon, Ming-Na stood in front of the mirror, hair pulled up in ceremonial style, earrings shaped like a single tear-shaped drop of blood on each ear, wearing a dark red kimono with wide, long sleeves and a golden fireworks pattern near the bottom. Her obi was blood red, with a pattern of cherry-blossoms on it and a golden tie around it.

"We cannot accompany you, Lady Ming," Ziyi said, bowing, "but we will send our best. Be proud, and carry yourself with honor."

Lin thought she caught a minute hint of a reaction at the final word, but even with her watchful eyes, she couldn't be sure. So she stepped forward once more, and kissed their princess once on the cheek. "Stay strong, Ming." She whispered, so no one else could catch it.

Then, Ming-Na walked out of the room, and down the long hall to her mother's audience room.

However, who she faced once she stood looking up at the onyx throne where the Fire Lady held audience wasn't her mother. It was Kazuki, Hyo-Lee's trusted retainer and rumored lover.

Kazuki was tall, taller than most people considered normal. He had silky blond hair that brushed just past his shoulders, with eyes that were colored a cold and distant ice blue. He was pale and always dressed in black.

No one knew where he came from; whether he arrived at the Fire Nation by choice or force. No one even knew what nation he was born in. He was an enigma, a man without a past. He never talked unless he had to, and socialized even less. There was only one thing concrete about him: he was ferociously loyal to Hyo-Lee; her and her alone. He would do anything she asked of him without question, no matter the consequences or conditions. In truth, he scared Ming-Na more than a little.

Ming-Na seated herself on the cold wooden floor in formal style: hands in lap, legs tucked under her, back straight. Then she bowed, forehead touching the icy floor.

Kazuki spoke. He had a deep voice that would have been nice if he showed more emotion. "I am here on behalf of Lady Hyosune to act in her place."

It was only because of the years of conditioning that Ming-Na found her voice. It was habit that allowed her to speak now. And so, as she could –and was required- she did; the ceremonial opening words of an audience between a ruler and a subject. "And I am Lady Mingeline, to answer the summons of Lady Hyosune." But even though she spoke, her voice was as hollow and emotionless as Kazuki's. She was not as she once was. She never would be.

There was silence. The official, formal greeting was over. Now the real, darker, meeting could begin.

"Do you know why my Lady has called you here, Mingeline?" Kazuki asked, and there was a touch more ice in his voice than before.

Ming-Na found, through the mental haze around her and the icy oblivion inside her that she had lost her voice again. It barely registered, however. Once more she had lost herself. What was probably her one hope had passed without effect.

Kazuki smiled icily. It was a look that was supposed to show Ming-Na that he knew she could not fool him; that he saw right through her faked silence. But when she took no apparent notice, he broke the smile, and spoke instead, taking her silence for a no. "Then listen well." He sounded angry now; but it was a cold anger, something much scarier than the burning hate of those of the Fire Nation. "Lady Hyosune is not pleased with your recent actions, Mingeline, not at all. Never before has anyone disgraced the line like that. She herself would never have guessed that it would be one of her children would cause such dishonor to her family."

Ming-Na sat on the cold floor, looking up at the place where she herself had sat, before her exile. A chair seated next to the one Kazuki occupied, smaller and less grand. She had sat there, not content with it, but finding nothing else. That had been before everything went wrong; before her world had been twisted into a perverse nightmare of what it once was.

She felt cold. Cold and dead; inside and out. As if she was just a shell of a girl, without any warmth to remind her that she still lived. She wondered, dimly, that if she was cut she would still bleed. She had tried many times since Zhao had broken her to gather up the scattered fragments of who and what she had been. She had tried to become strong again, to show even a small part of what she once was. But all her attempts had been weak, half-hearted. There was just no part of that girl left. All the shards of her old self –any hopes; dreams; codes- seemed to have turned to dust and scattered to the winds. She was dead inside, and it seemed a strange thing that she still looked whole on the outside. Except for her eyes. Her eyes showed just what she had become: a frozen corpse.

"You must redeem yourself, Mingeline." Kazuki spoke again. "When you address our people, do not speak of your time away. Speak only of your undying loyalty to the Fire Nation. Speak of how you were wrong, and only by the grace of you mother, Lady Hyosune, are you back here without fuss. You must make amends; you have disgraced us all, and there is nothing I would like more than to condemn you to a life of dishonor and shame, but you still have a duty. So, Mingeline, you must make things right again."

With that, the audience ended, and Ming-Na was dimly aware of being escorted out of the room by two of the guards. All she could think was that she was vanishing. It was a void that she was falling into, losing everything about herself. She became spellbound in her own half-formed thoughts and dimming consciousness, until she found herself once more in the comforting arms of Lin.

"Be strong, Lady Ming." Lin whispered gently. "Be strong."

Ming-Na stood on a balcony of the east side of the palace, overlooking the city below. The balcony itself was of wrought steel, gilded over with gold on the railings and carpeted in red velvet on the floor. It was roughly around six feet in diameter, from the edge where it joined the palace to the outermost edge where it jutted out over the westernmost edge of the city capital.

Way down below her, every single inhabitant of the city had gathered. They waited expectantly for her to speak. It was what they had been promised: a glorious rebirth from the dejected existence they had suffered for the last two years. And now their princess had come to offer them freedom from that past. Freedom, and then vengeance.

Behind her, hidden from view, stood her four handmaidens. Ziyi twisted her hair, biting on the ends; Rie and Yume clung to each other in panic and nervous expectation. Only Lin seemed to be able to control her anxiety. Instead of letting her worries overcome her, she fought them back –for her princess's sake- and silently willed Ming-Na to say something. But not anything. Her princess had been through a lot, Lin knew, but the one thing Lady Ming could not do was collapse under Hyo-Lee's sway. The people needed someone to help them rise again, but not someone who would bring them to self-destruction.

Then Ming-Na spoke, and her voice shocked the four girls behind her. It was vastly, terribly, different. She had lost many things since Lin and the others had last seen her. Before, she always talked about how she would one day escape the rule of her mother. She wanted to fight for her nation. And then she had gotten her chance. But coming back now, it seemed things had not been as she thought they would be. She had lost much, and her voice told it. But she spoke, and that was all that was needed.

"People of our nation; children of Agni…" she paused, almost as if she was waging an internal battle. Her voice was sorrowful and lost; much quieter than it needed to be at such a distance from the crowd, but the architecture of this particular area of the palace made it so her voice was amplified beyond normal human capacity.

After what seemed like an eternity, she spoke again.

"I am sorry."

All four of Ming-Na's handmaidens gasped. She was complying with her hated mother, going along with her plan. It was an absolute now: Ming-Na, warrior and princess of the Fire Nation, had lost even the strength to be strong.

"I did something terrible. I strayed from my… service…as princess. I ran away as a coward. I am…shameful."

Lin, even through her tremendous grief, realized one thing. The one thing that, with no other sign to give it away, showed in Ming-Na's eyes; in the pauses between words--pauses where the speaker searched for words that no longer existed for her. It was a terrible tragedy of a thing, the final blow for Lin. She…can't even bear to say it. Lin thought. The words that once sustained her as much as a mind or heart ever could. Honor…duty…she has lost those words. Not the things themselves, but…I doubt she even knows they exist now. Lin was flooded with grief and pain. She is…so torn inside. She's fast going to a place beyond our reach. I can't help her. No one can help her now… Lin wept, hard and fast, for her poor, beautiful, honorable princess, who was falling to a place she could not follow, where life and death are one in the same, and in time, all souls there implode in a dazzling incandescence of broken hope.

But Ming-Na, oblivious to the turmoil behind her, continued on. "I bring you news, though. I have returned to help our nation, the right way. The Avatar has been captured. There is nothing now stopping us from ruling as we should."

The crowd below cheered. They cheered with inspiring passion, for all they had hoped for was coming true right before their eyes. But all their hopes rested on a thin, fragile fabrication made a hundred years ago: that people can still march out to war and return unchanged.

To be continued...