In Her Father's Steps
Ziggy's Corner: Okay this makes number eight, for my Avatar stories! And I have two more ideas, plus a four part poem in the far reaches of my mind, so I guess I really am an AVATAR writer at the moment. Possibly period! I just hope one day the master writer, the king or queen of the Avatar fanfics reads any number of my work and claims me to be his or her contemporary! That would really be a compliment!
Anyway, this story takes place just after Season 1 of Avatar ends, with Zula kneeling before her father. What is going through her mind, what happens to her before she leaves to hunt down Aang, this is what this story is about. I hope it is a hit. Like my seventh story this is a one shot. I dedicate this story to my ultimate number one fan, TheShoelessOne. Enjoy!
The flames of his throne licked at her face, their light illuminating her soft, feminine features, as she knelt down before her Lord and father, just as she had done so many times before. Just as they both used to do so many times before. "You called for me, my Lord?"
"Yes," he said; his tone hard and gravely. It had the tinge of darkness around it that only she seemed to appreciate. "I have recently received news about Admiral Zhao's venture to crush the Northern Water Tribe and capture the Avatar." The was a long pause, almost as if he expected her to ask what news troubled him so, yet he knew she would remain silent until he ordered her to speak.
"Admiral Zhao is missing, presumed dead, and the majority of his fleet has been dispersed. It seems my brother had a hand in dealing our nation a serious blow."
Shock, but not disbelief struck at her core. She knew that ever since her aunt had died, and her cousin on the battlefield had been struck down, her uncle and her father had drifted apart, not that they had ever been close to begin with, but treason?
"Zuko as proven he is also incapable to catch our enemy and the threat to our nation," Ozai growled, the flames around his throne rising to match his anger. "Iroh is a traitor, and your brother is a failure. I have a task for you."
She lifted her head and stared into the flames, her heart racing. Zuko would forever be banned from that throne, and since she was the only living relative of her father capable to show what true power was, it was reasonable to assume she'd be the first woman to sit on that throne one day. "You wish me to capture the Avatar." It wasn't a question.
Ozai smiled with wicked pride. "Yes, he is a threat to our nation, to our people, to what family we have left." His eyes gleamed in the dark light. "It will not prove too problematic for you?"
"No my Lord," she said, her tone harsh and firm.
"And if either Zuko or Iroh get in your way?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Iroh betrayed our people, he is no relative of mine," she growled. "Zuko is a weak fool. A pathetic loser, he is no brother of mine. If either of them gets in my way, the rebel will feel true justice, and the outcast will be mercifully put out of his misery." She smiled at her words and rose as he nodded.
X X X X X
Like any good soldier, she marched directly to her bedroom, to her clothes and her supplies that she would need for the trip tomorrow. Along the way she instructed a major to gather a group of men and women who were of the best stock, and instruct them to make ready for departure for the northern waters. If she was lucky, the Avatar was still there, and it would be an easy capture, perhaps even seeing the fall of the Northern Water Tribe capital. But if time and the weather were against her, then at least they could head east, toward the Earth Kingdom and Ba-Sing-Fe, where the boy Avatar would more likely head for an Earth bending master to teach him those techniques.
She packed rapidly, the clothing that she would need for field work, ignoring her fancy dresses and gowns she had been given for parties and grandeur. There would be plenty of time for those things after her success. Maps went into her files and cases, as did reports of the Avatar and his techniques, and even certain water bending techniques she was sure he would learn before they encountered each other. Next she went down to the docks, and inspected her ship, as well as two dozen others that would back up her forces should she need them and nodded her approval. It had all gone smoothly. No one wanted to disappoint their little princess, no one wanted to see those stern hard brown eyes burn into their souls.
Zula smiled at the accomplishment of her fleet, and turned next to the training fields, where she had bested her brother, as well as most of the males who trained against her, many times. She slipped out of her royal dress, and into a more suitable exercise uniform, and took her place in the training circle. She was thin, but not skeletonal like most fifteen year old girls in her position. Her slim arms and legs tightened and stretched as she prepared for the fight that was to come.
A young male stared at her from the other side of the ring. He swallowed with fear and uncertainty at confronting the princess, not so much because he was afraid of injuring the daughter of his king and Lord, he was most certainly afraid of that, but he also knew that if he did not give his absolute best, not only would she be insulted and order him executed for his crimes after the fight, he might also end up dead on the field itself. Not many people could stand up to Zula and claim a victory.
"Begin," the instructor shouted.
A flash of movement raced toward him, and he brought up his arms to block it, lifting his leg to counter her attack. She ducked and kneed him in his stomach, lifting him high over her head and crashing down into the ground, before he caught his breath and barely missed her deadly, but beautiful pale feet from breaking his neck. This was another advantage she held over most of her male opponents. Zula was a vision of loveliness, no more so than when she was fighting. It was on the field that she looked most like a princess, and less like the warrior she was.
Flames spread across her face, from his hands, but she blocked them, and shot forward with her own fiery fist, striking his bare chest, and taking his wind out. A second blast of flames, a third, and finally she inhaled deeply, taking a few steps back, and rushed forward, surging into the sky and leveling the ground with an inferno that matched a dragon's attack. The poor boy edged near the end of the ring, and was blasted by her naked heel to his jaw as she dropped through the fire, and brought him down, defeated.
"Disappointing, but not bad," she crooned finally, catching her own breathe. "Bring me another opponent, some one faster this time," she barked. Zula battled this way for almost four hours, with feet, fist, flame, and sword, until she was sure she was at the peak of her power.
As she walked away she noticed a young man smirking at her, and she sighed, refusing to acknowledge him just as she had done for months. She continued to walk and finally slumped her shoulders in defeat, one of the few times she allowed herself to do so. "What do you want now, Amma?"
"There's a rumor that your father has decided to send you on some quest, circulating the royal halls," the young regal male said.
"You don't say?" she growled, turning to look at him.
He looked at her and blinked, taken back a little. "You don't mean its true, do you?"
"And what if it is? Is it so hard to believe that he would ask me to capture the Fire Nation's number one enemy?"
"The Avatar," the boy said, his eyes widening, growing larger as she nodded. "But why send you? Why not your uncle or your brother? I thought even Admiral Zhao was hot on his heels."
"All failed. It is up to me to bring security to our people," she said harshly.
"Don't you mean your father?" he grumbled under his breathe. Amma was a year older than she was, just as tall as Zuko, but with rich light brown hair and stone hard features of a white knight.
"My father is the will of the people," she snapped. "A threat to him, is a threat to us all."
Amma dared to inch closer to her, to brush her soft cheek, and wipe a tear that rolled down her face as he did so. "You never used to be this harsh," he whispered. "We used to be good friends, all of us, you, your brother, and I. What happened?"
She shot from him and glared. "Reality happened, that's what!" She straightened her back and smirked. "I am the most powerful Fire Bender next to my father. It is my destiny and my right to secure my throne by capturing the Avatar."
Amma screwed up his face and looked at the darkening sky, at the gray clouds drifting by in the late afternoon, the people rushing to go to their homes. "You were never this intense, even when we dueled. You sound like your father."
"Is that a crime?" she hissed. "I've just come to realize what my fate is."
"I hope so, for your sake," he said, turning from her. "I'll be waiting for you at the docks tomorrow, hoping that you've had a change of heart."
"Don't hold your breathe, and for your safety be smart and stay away from me," she said, softly lowering her head. "Go to some spirit forgotten city and stay there. If you really want peace that is."
He contemplated saying something else to her, but sighed as she walked off into the shadows, and he into the light. Think about what you are doing, Zula. Please think of what you are doing.
X X X X X
Dreams of pleasure and nightmares mixed during her last night in her bed in her comfortable palace. Light and dark danced for her, flashed around her field of grass and her ruins covered with broken flesh and blood. Zula tossed and turned, both dream and nightmare plagued her mind tonight, neither bringing her real true joy or absolute horror.
She dreamt she had listened to Amma's words of love and hope. He had always been against the war, even though he felt the Fire Nation should control the world. The pacifistic son of a duke, he had tried to get the nations to agree on a one world government were the Fire Lord would judge them all equally. Some of his words filtered into her mind, into her heart, and it was sent soaring, racing toward the rainbow.
She was his wife, comfortable or seemingly so, living in the country, raising their children to be excellent warriors, to be grand philosophers, her life with her family, her brother and uncle, her newly understanding father. Bunnies and deer ran across her field, and her husband and brother would occasionally go into the forest to hunt for their next feast, while the children play in the field.
Then the nightmares took over, screaming, crying. She saw her father dead on his throne, his arms loose and limp as blood oozed from every pore on his body. The Fire Nation engulfed in flames. Her family, friends, and lifestyle smashed to bits by the self righteous attitude of the cackling Avatar and his friends. Her heart burned with hatred, burned knowing that she could have stopped this madness, that she had gotten on that ship, and hunted the brat down and brought him to his father, where she would be crowned his successor and rule with a grip vastly more iron than her own.
And again the nightmares came. She and her brother both raced to capture the young air monk. They're hatred for each other grew larger and larger as they raced, her older brother just a few inches closer to him than she, and she swore and burned the fields in an attempt to stop the inevitable. Finally they pinned the boy to a wall, Zuko on his left, she on his right. Her brother aimed, ready to finish it, but she knew she needed him alive. She lurched forward and reached to grab the boy's arm, but flames that seemed to come from Zuko's fingers arched out and sliced across her face. Zula screeched, as she covered her face, blood oozing and dripping to the ground, growing larger and wider until formed her father's face.
"I was wrong about you," he hissed. "Zuko has proven to be the better of the children, and my true heir."
She was wearing a mask to cover her shame, a red and black stripe of cloth that covered from her upper face down to her left lower lips. "No father, wait …,"
"Who's the failure now?" Zuko taunted, as the guards pulled her from the life she had always know.
"You don't understand," she wailed.
"You hesitated," Ozai growled. "You showed weakness, and this is the end result."
"You shouldn't have listened to your little boyfriend," Zuko snapped bitterly.
"Zula, think about what you are doing!" Amma cried out, rushing through the open doors of the throne room.
"You betrayed your destiny!" her father growled.
"You are abandoning your soul for darkness," Amma cried.
"You showed compassion instead of strength," Zuko mocked.
"You're giving in to the flames of hate, rather than reason," Amma admonished.
"Daughter," Ozai snarled.
"Zula," Amma begged, dropping to his knees.
"Sister," Zuko snapped.
"Listen to your heart," Amma pleaded.
"Traitor," Ozai snarled at Amma.
"Peace," the young man shot back.
"Justice," cried Iroh, holding his head beneath his arms, blood oozing from his neck, a sign that read treason soaking in the blood.
"Glory," Zuko growled, with non human rage.
Her heart pounded against her chest, the room seemed to spin as more and more voices filled the hall, each crying for the Fire Nation and Destiny, or for Peace and Justice. Zula felt her knees buckle under her weight and she dropped to the ground, colors flying around her eyes shadows grasping her shoulders, only to be torn away by the warmth of the light. Her father and Amma crossed blades on a field … no an ocean of blood. Bones and wreckage were everywhere, and then turned to fields of peace and joy.
"What's happening to me?" she screamed, holding her hands on her head as if she feared it was going to pull apart. She rose to her feet and tore from the throne room, but everywhere she went, it was the same, either statues in armor tried to vie for her allegiance, or maids and butlers did. And the war of the colors and shadows grew ever more violent as she ran. "Leave me alone," she cried, "stay away from me!"
She ran into her room, and bolted the door closed, hiding under her covers, but the bed spun from its foundation and knocked her down to the floor, where the voices attacked her at ever corner of her mind, the colors flashing before her light never before, nearly striking her as they dashed by her.
"Destiny!" the voices of war cried.
"Justice, peace," the cries of reason pleaded.
Again she was on that bridge, both brother and sister blocking the Avatar from escape. Again she lunged forward, and again her brother burned her face, trying to get to him first. Again the scene played, either they were rivals and his flames hit her first, or she darted toward the boy, eager to claim to prize, and his brothers flames, damaged her face. In a mirror she could see her regular, beautiful face, smiling at her with Amma right by her side. But she could also see her disfigured, scarred face, hidden by a mask, her lips twisted with hatred for everyone and everything.
"Your choice, Zula," Amma said in the mirror. "Which destiny is it that you want to follow?"
Zula opened her mouth and screamed loud and long, bashing in the mirror with her bare fists until she shot up in her bed, sweat running down and drenching everything around her.
She sat there, staring at her room, the sun barely showing any signs of life, and she swallowed hard. Destiny, it was all about destiny.
X X X X X
Zula hurried to the docks, her bags packed, her eyes narrowed, her resolve never more certain as it was on this day. She only stopped as she sensed a presence, and as she made sure of who it was she exhaled deeply before beginning to speak. "One last time, for old time's sake, I will warn you to simply walk away."
"You know as I sat in bed last night there was a part of me that was sure you wouldn't even show up," Amma's deep tone said with a distraught sigh. He ignored her tension and walked up to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "It's not too late, you know."
"It is. For me it is," she said; her tone dead and dark. "I will not be a failure like my brother; I will not allow the Avatar to threaten my people and my family." She turned and glared at him calmly, "I won't let anyone threaten my people or family." Before he could say anything else, she drove a knife deep into his chest and continued to push it forward. "I warned you to stay away," she said, her voice breaking. "Your love of peace is so strong, you were a fool to try and convince me of my decision. You should have left."
Blood gurgled from his mouth, his eyes big but not with shock. She edged into him further, moving him further and further back into a dark corner. "It didn't have to be like this, Amma. You could have chosen to disappear into the pages of obscurity, instead of forcing me to make that choice for you." She pressed the knife into him until the handles of the blade threatened to break. "I did care for you, but not so much I would turn my back on my family and responsibilities," she whispered in his hear as soon as she was sure he was still alive. He stared at her, unable to say anything, eyes wide with knowing.
"You knew I'd do this, didn't you?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears. Slowly he let his head drop, never to pick it up though he still clung to life. Yes, he had suspected that she'd kill him if he got in her way, and was ready and willing to pay the price if it meant he could have gotten through to her, and saved her from the shadows.
"Some damsels in distress just aren't meant to be saved by any knight, let alone a white one," she whispered in his ear, as light slowly pulled away from his eyes. "Some were destined to be taken into the shadows, and pulled into greater heights, despite what they may have wanted for themselves." She kissed his cheek once, and then pulling the knife from his chest, cut of a piece of his hair, not as a true memento, but as a remembrance that she had once stumbled off of her father's path, had grown weak for a moment. She was determined not to let that happen again, and ever time she would look at his hair, she would grow strong in her decision. "Good bye, white knight," she raised her arm back and slashed his throat, stepping aside of the gushing blood, so it only splashed against her hands, and lower sleeves. Then with a certainty that he was dead, engulfed him in flames.
Two people had died in that dark alley. Amma, and the Zula who could have been his peaceful wife. But the Zula who was left stormed up to a deck officer, confessed to killing a rebel, and to dispose of the body, and then picked up her belongings, and headed for her ship. In her room on board she attached the threads of Amma's hair to a locket, and placed it on her desk, and then cleaned her knife. She was ready to do the will of her nation now. She was ready to walk in her father's steps. Avatar Aang, beware.
Okay, that turned out better than I had hoped. Shorter than what I thought it would be, by around three pages, it still made my point. I hope you all enjoyed this, and hopefully this story is picked up and will join my other Avatar Story, The Flames of Hatred, in the C2 thread, The Fire Nation Ownz You, or it joins A MidWinter's Romance, in the C2 thread, The Best of Everything, or even both C2's that would be cool. At any rate I really and sincerely hope you enjoyed this story, because I enjoyed writing it.