The Tale of Iroh

It was that day of the year again.

He had asked permission from the shop owner to have a day-off which the latter reluctantly gave. He left his nephew to rest in the apartment and took a stroll through the market. In one of the stalls, he saw a beautiful woven basket made from abaca.

"If this is for a romantic picnic, may I suggest this lavender one?" The craftsman held up an equally beautiful basket painted with beautiful lavenders.

It surely is attracting and pleasing to the eye. "No, it's not a romantic picnic," Iroh smiled. "But it is a special occasion." He handed the craftsman two silver coins for the first basket and thanked him with a bow.

On his way out of the shop, he saw a vase with a single moon flower, its petals closed as if avoiding the harsh sun. He gently nudged the vase out of the sun and into the shade of the shop. "The moon-flower likes partial shade." On cue, the beautiful flower opened up, blooming beautifully.

He walked further into the streets, looking at various items displayed by merchants. He stopped when he saw a young boy crying, his mother by his side, in the middle of the street. She tried everything to appease the toddler, yet he continued to sob. "It's okay..." The mother gently cooed.

Iroh turned to his right and asked the owner if he could borrow the liuqin on the display. The owner agreed and watched on as Iroh tuned the instrument before strumming it slowly.

Leaves from the vine,

Falling so slow

Like fragile, tiny shells

Drifting in the foam

He approached the young boy as he sang. Tears streamed still from the young boy's eyes, but he had somehow calmed down. He looked up at the old man, gripping his earth kingdom soldier doll tight in his little hand.

Little soldier boy

Come marching home

Brave soldier boy

Comes marching home

Iroh stooped down to see the boy eye to eye, and finally the young boy smiled. He reached for Iroh's long white beard and tugged, earning a startled yelp from the old man. The boy laughed at him.

The boy's mother thanked Iroh and tugged the young boy to resume their travel. Before leaving, the young boy looked back and waved at the old man.

He passed an alleyway where young kids were gathered, playing soccer. He was surprised to see them using earthbending techniques to pass around the ball with such fast momentum. One particular pass was offset by a jagged edge, sending the ball crashing through the window of a house. "HEY!"

Iroh approached the children. "It is usually best to admit mistakes when they occur." He lectured the children who had gathered behind him. "And to seek to restore honor."

Suddenly the earth beneath their feet shook and a huge face peeked through the broken window. "When I'm through with you kids, the window won't be the only thing that's broken!"

"But not this time... RUN!" He and the kids went separate ways, running as fast as they could away from the alley.

He turned sharply on a corner, breathing heavily and snuck a peak to see if he was followed.

"You," A voice from behind him whispered and he turned around to find a thug holding a knife to his face. "Give me all your money!" However fierce he looked, he looked pathetic with his stance. His legs were crooked, and his feet were unsteady.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm mugging you!"

"With that stance?" He gestured to the thug's feet.

"Wha-What are you talking about? Just give me your money, old man!"

Iroh shook his head. "With a poor stance, you are unbalanced, and you can be easily knocked over." With a swift movement, Iroh had disarmed the thug with one hand, and pushed him with the other. His move required little force, yet it managed to take down the thug easily. He extended a hand and helped the man up on his feet, handing him back his knife.

His next move surprised the thug all the more. Iroh began demonstrating to him the proper fighting stances. He followed him and Iroh corrected his stance by straightening his back and adjusting the spread of his legs. "Much better! But to tell you the truth, you do not look like the criminal type."

The thug looked down on the earth, kicking the dirt with his feet. "I know... I'm just confused..."

Iroh invited the man to sit with him in the alley and he took out a pot and two cups. He began brewing his famous tea while the thug silently watched him. He told him of other jobs he could take; as a delivery boy, a street sweeper, a waiter, a masseur, there were lots of options. After a few minutes, he poured the tea into cups and handed one to the thug.

"So you really think I could be a good masseur?"

"Of course!"

The man held the cup with both hands, a slight smile starting to form on his lips. "This is so great! No one has ever believed in me!"

"While it is always best to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing." They sipped their tea slowly and shared more stories until the tea was gone. The man thanked Iroh with a bow and left with renewed vigor and determination.

It was sunset when he finally reached his destination. He steadily climbed the highest hill overlooking Ba Sing Se. Once he reached the peak, he set down the basket on the soft grass. He looked around for flat rocks scattered around the lone tree that stood on top of the hill. He stacked the rocks carefully, as was tradition of Buddhists.

He opened the basket and took out the fruits he brought in offering, laying them on the small blanket. At the bottom of the pile, he pulled out a worn-out parchment.

He stared at the sketch for a while before setting it among the offerings. He also took out two incenses, lighting them up with a slight pinch on the ends. Once he was satisfied with the arrangement, he knelt down.

Iroh was silent for a few minutes, offering up a silent prayer to the heavens with his eyes closed. "Happy birthday, my son." Iroh whispered as he opened his eyes and balled his fists tightly, looking at his son's face as it was etched forever in his youth, never to grow old or have children of his own. "If only I could have helped you..."

The tears he had long been holding back finally came through. Many years had passed but the memory was still fresh as if it was yesterday.

He remembered being at the war front when he received news of the death of his only beloved son, Lu Ten. He remembered feeling as if he too died along with him. He remembered the feeling of the world crashing down around him as he saw his son's lifeless body retrieved from the battle. He remembered the pain of his heart shattering as he buried his own son...

Leaves from the vine,

Falling so slow

Like fragile, tiny shells

Drifting in the foam

His shoulders shook with the weight of his pain. He voice broke as he cried for his son who never returned home from war.

Little soldier boy

Come marching home

Brave soldier boy

Comes marching home

To General Iroh,

See you after we win the war.

Your loyal son,

Lu Ten