Disclaimer - I don't own Young Justice or Avatar: The Last Airbender. This was written for the Brown Belt round of Write to Rank 2021. That action piece needed to be between 1,850-2,000 words, a clear protagonist and antagonist and end in a cliffhanger.
Forged in Fire: Changing Directions
"If we do this, there's no turning back."
Zuko listened to his uncle carefully, taking in Iroh's tone of voice, the sound of worry which reverberated through the air like electricity. "I know. I know there's no turning back, but I can't continue being someone I'm not." He swallowed his eyes on the gray-haired man. "You're really helping me leave? After all, I've done."
"My dear boy!" Iroh laughed. The tension in the air split as Iroh laughed, yet the static charge in the air remained. "I've waited to hear you say that. I mean, the fact you want to be yourself instead of the man your father wants you to be!" The man reached out his large hands, taking Zuko's smaller ones so Zuko felt the callouses on Iroh's hand while a tile pressed into the palm of his hand. "Remember this, my dear boy. If something happens to me, show this to either Batman or Green Arrow. They'll know the meaning."
Zuko slipped the tile into a pocket while he smiled at his uncle. "Nothing's going to happen to you. You're my uncle, the Dragon of the West."
"Be that as it may..." Iroh turned his head when he heard the sound of feet going down the hall and took a deep breath. His mouth twisted into a serious scowl and he tucked his hands into the sleeves of his kimono. "That's our signal. The change of the shift is occurring, so your father won't suspect anything."
Zuko drew air into his lungs and watched his uncle turn towards the door. Iroh opened the door and peered out. When he saw the coast was clear, he turned and motioned for Zuko to follow him. He tried not looking at the soldiers who didn't pay the royals any mind as they passed by into the gardens, out into the night as they made their way to the docks where Zuko planned on making his escape.
Every so often they passed a place that smelled like burnt flesh. A few times Zuko let his fingers reach up to touch his face, where his father burned him. A nasty scar remained, marring his youthful face while his sister would point and laugh, her only regret being she didn't do the scarring herself. He swallowed back the thought only when his uncle said, "Don't think about it."
"It's difficult not to do so."
Salty sea air blew in from the docks and Zuko took a deep breath. His shoulders relaxed slightly while his golden eyes focused on the boat in front of him. He opened his mouth to ask about the man his uncle trusted enough for his safe passage out of their country when a blast of fire came from behind.
Zuko watched his uncle turn and felt the man's body crash into his own as Iroh pushed him out of the path of the fiery blast. Zuko's eyes widened. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils, entirely imagined yet the thought of the flesh of anyone burning left him wanting to throw up. His uncle lifted himself from on top of Zuko while Zuko remained glued to the dock. He watched Iroh's fingers lift and deflect another fiery blast away from them, into the side of another boat.
An orange glow started. Flames licked at the side of the other boat and soldiers yelled. Alarm bells went off as the smell of acrid ash filled the air. Zuko pushed himself up and saw in the orange glow a figure standing there, thin and proud. The corner of Azula's mouth twisted while her fingers shout out to the side. From her two fingers came a fireball which headed straight towards another ship.
The flames simply scorched the side indicating the captain properly maintained his ship in a country where many could wield fire at their mere whim.
Yet, the message was clear even before Azula spoke. "You can't escape Zuzu. You either live by the fire or die by the fire. You know that is our way."
Zuko scrambled onto his feet. One foot shifted back and he held his hands firm. He remembered what his uncle taught him about proper breathing control and breathed in, completely prepared to take his sister on. Iroh stepped between and held out his arm. "You're not ready, dear nephew."
"Oh, uncle," Azula hummed. "I didn't think you'd go along with this. Him deciding to become a hero like that powerless—what's his name? The one they call the Boy Wonder?" The corner of her mouth twitched. "I don't see why, when I the Girl Wonder can outdo him easily but happen to be the truth child genius among superheroes and supervillains, right?"
Zuko faltered, unsure of what to think of her words when she jumped into the air, flinging a fireball at him and uncle. Iroh, despite his large size, leaped in the air and kicked Azula's blue flames apart yet none of this phased her. She started walking forward. Flames licked at the tip of her fingers while the corner of her mouth continued to twist up maliciously.
"Run."
"But..."
"The ship is at the end of the dock here. Get on board, Zuko."
"But..."
"I know you care! I care as well, and if anything were to happen to you like it did Lu Ten..." Iroh turned his head and glared. "Just go."
Iroh never talked about his dead son. Zuko shifted out of the defensive stance and started down the docks towards the end. The boat in front of them hadn't been the one like he thought. Zuko ran and heard the sounds of footsteps following him. Someone got past uncle, yet the lack of flames indicated the person wasn't Azula.
Zuko made the mistake of turning just in time for something to pierce his arm. His other hand grabbed onto his arm and pulled the metal dart out of his arm. His eyes focused on the girl dressed in black in front of him only for his eyes to close as flames rushed past her towards him. He dodged and ducked into a kneeling position while leaning back.
"Thanks, Mai. I got held up."
Zuko froze in the spot, his eyes focused on his sister Azula. "How?"
"How did I get past Uncle? I'm better than Uncle," Azula sneered at him.
"That's a lie! You always lie Azula! You did something to..." Zuko attempted to stand up only to quickly lean over to dodge another fireball.
"To cheat? When will you ever learn that it's not cheating, dear Zuzu, to use what's at your disposal."
"And what did you dispose of?" Zuko snapped.
"Just a few soldiers. But I guess you'd argue that their lives meant something," Azula said. She brought her hand from her shoulder out, sending a wave of flame. "You'd better run as uncle said!"
Run Zuko did.
He went into a role so the wave of fire went over his head and continued towards the end of the dock like his uncle told him. He didn't look back even though he wanted to see if Iroh was okay, yet the cacophony he heard off in the distance made him ponder whether Azula simply made others take on fighting Iroh so she wouldn't have to rather than her defeating him.
Zuko ran.
He almost ran straight into the water.
Instead, he skidded to a halt at the end. His toes hung over the edge while he looked down at the dark salty ocean waters below and then glanced up.
There was no boat in sight, no sign of rescue.
Zuko took a deep breath. He turned, looking back at Azula.
Mai, the girl in black was with her, her weapons ready. So was Ty Lee, dressed in her bright pinks which were a stark contrast to Azula's blood-red clothing. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. When he stepped far enough to take a defensive position, he let his one foot slip backward, barely touching the end of the dock. He looked at Azula, prepared not to back down.
"Surrender."
"No."
"I'm sure father..." She stopped. "Well, I could play this off as Uncle being in your ear you know."
"No."
"Come on Zuzu. Father..."
"Burned me simply because I refused to turn my flames against him. He wouldn't hesitate to burn me again, but then neither would you. I've had enough."
"You actually think that goody-two-shoes group of superheroes will take you in?" Azula didn't attack and stood there with her arms crossed.
"That's not the point."
"It is the point. If we do this, there's no turning back, Zuzu."
"Funny. Uncle said pretty much the same thing," Zuko took a deep breath. He knew what Azula meant when she said those words, but where Uncle's words held hope, hers held despair.
Azula moved, her limbs snapping grotesquely as fire snapped from her fingers, hotter, heavier, bluer than before. The flames headed straight for him. He looked at the flames and didn't know how he'd deflect the fire with his flames. Instead, he lifted his arms in front of his face, the memory of his father's hand reaching out so he might burn his face flickering briefly and then he felt himself flying.
Zuko hit the water.
The salty water burned the burns on his arms while his thin frame sunk into the shipyard.
Zuko didn't dare open his eyes, yet he saw in the back of his mind a flicker of the memory of a Blue Spirit mask, the superhero identity he'd took on unbeknown to his father, or his sister. His mouth opened and water came in, yet he refused to breathe in the water which tasted like salt on his tongue.
Instinctively, his hands reached up for his mouth and covered his mouth, yet this wouldn't help him to breathe underwater. His ears decerned someone jumping in beside him, bubbles forming in the water as someone disturbed the water. An arm wrapped around his waist and started pulling him, yet he fought against the person.
Going back wasn't an option.
Going back was never an option.
Going back meant his father and sister torturing him which in turn meant he would smell the burning of flesh again.
The air that wasn't air came then and the salt stung his throat and lungs. A black haze started covering his vision yet Zuko realized his eyes stung from the salt as he'd opened his eyes. He felt wood underneath him and cold salty sea air which bit at the burns on his arms. He struggled against the person who pulled them out as he struggled to breathe.
Fresh air went in as salty seawater went out.
His fingers grasped the wood and his nails scraped leaving splinters under his nails.
He then remembered nothing, nothing but the pain of the burns on his arms.
Azula was a demon, a demon he didn't want to ever go back to and a complete nightmare, a nightmare he didn't wish to wake to.
Uncle was right that there would be no going back for him.
