Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus


Chapter IV – A Family Affair

Prince Iroh felt certain the feast had gone on forever. His mother, when alive, had tried diligently to persuade him that such feasts were somehow enjoyable. The truth was that the endless ceremonies of the palace bored the young Prince to tears. Though he loved his mother and mourned her passing, Iroh always regarded her efforts in this regard as a complete waste of time.

The Harvest Moon Feast had earned a special place of disfavor in Iroh's heart. While the exaggerated obeisances and sycophantic adulation of the arriving guests were no worse at this event than at any other Fire Nation high holiday, the Harvest Moon Feast did bear a unique distinction. In addition to its role as a celebration marking the end of the growing season, it was also the anniversary of the aging Fire Lord's great naval victory over the Earth Kingdom some twenty years prior.

Consequently, Iroh reflected bitterly, every Harvest Moon Feast since then had been ruined by his father's insistence on dragging some wine soaked yarn-spinner out of his tavern and forcing him to recount the tale. This year had proven no exception. The storyteller that had been imported all the way from Yantai was so boring that Iroh thought he was going to gnaw off his own limbs in frustration.

Struggling to stay awake, Iroh surveyed the scene around him. He and his family sat at three long, low tables set up on the dais. The tables formed three sides of a rectangle. The storyteller stood in the center. The floor beneath him was painted with an ornate map of the world.

His elder cousin, Xian, who sat to his right, somehow managed to enjoy it all and never ceased to encourage Iroh to approach such situations with equanimity. As the feast entered its eighth hour, however, Iroh rehearsed in his head exactly what he intended to tell Xian he could do with his equanimity.

Xian regarded his cousin over the lip of his tea cup and smiled at his sour expression.

"You will survive this, cousin, I promise," murmured Xian.

"Oh yes, I'll live, but I won't enjoy it," Iroh replied quietly, failing to suppress a smile.

Xian was five years older than Iroh and already had a successful military career. He had spent four years with General Shu, commander of the Army of the Song River. Together they had fought several campaigns in the southern Earth Kingdom and done much to reverse the Fire Nation's declining fortunes there. Ozai, Iroh's younger brother, had accompanied Xian late in his tour, but had chosen to remain with Shu in hopes of laying siege to Omashu in the coming year.

As coldly ambitious as his younger brother was proving to be, he was not Iroh's main source of imperial anxiety. His eyes slid past his cousin to rest on the ever more frequent object of his anger and disdain. Prince Tien Shin, less than a year his senior, sat at the table across from him. Tien Shin grinned smugly back. Iroh grimaced internally and wondered what his hated rival might have in store. Let him grin! Some day he would cut that vile sycophant's head off with one of his own war fans. And if Iroh did not do it himself, he felt sure that one his friends, probably either Nikon or Gan, would.

Tien Shin hated Nikon in particular for allegedly stealing the attentions of his favorite courtesan. When Iroh had confronted Nikon over the latter his friend had casually replied, "Oh, there's nothing "alleged" about it."

Abandoning these thoughts, Iroh averted his eyes from his nemesis as the storyteller finally granted the audience mercy by ending his monologue.

Addressing Xian and Iroh, the storyteller began to wind down, "Sons of Fire! Remember well the Feast of the Harvest Moon. For nineteen years ago this day the hopes and dreams of Ch'in the Conqueror were vanquished forever by the son of Sozin."

"Now you must finish the grand enterprise that the Lord of the Comet began and which your glorious father advanced to the brink of fruition. Know this, Princes of the Empire, before your lives are spent, the Fire Nation's struggle to bring order and civilization to the world will be over! Whether the blood of our people will have been spent in vain will hang on your deeds. Bring glory and honor to the Fire Nation and your names will be remembered beside your forefathers!"

Turning to Fire Lord Azulon the storyteller bowed deeply and concluded, as if reciting a formula, "May your reign be long and glorious, Lord Azulon, and may the Spirit of the Sun grant you victory."

Iroh sighed inwardly with relief as the storyteller retreated from the dais where the Fire Lord and his family sat. All eyes turned to Azulon as he began to speak. He was a tall, thin man with grey hair that was now turning white. His face was hard and cruel, and his countenance spoke of an iron will weighed down by worldly cares. His second wife, Lady Ila, sat next to him.

"My reign has been long," he began slowly, "but for many years it has not been glorious." His eyes met briefly with those around the table before he continued.

"Stories are worth the retelling only for what they teach us. Remembrance of past victories serves only to show the miserable situation we now face."

Iroh and Xian looked quickly at each other as the aging Fire Lord rose from his seat. They began to rise along with everyone else as custom dictated, but the Fire Lord motioned them back down. Azulon walked slowly around his part of the table and stood where the storyteller had been. Looking at the nobility seated at the tables farther down the hall, many of them members of the War College, he continued in a voice mightier than his frail frame seemed to allow.

"This shame is no secret and it belongs to us all. In the last ten years we have lost most of the lands conquered by my father and me in my youth. Our enemies have organized against us. We must take action now – or we will lose this war." Azulon paused a moment to allow this to sink in before he continued, "We have lost our footholds on the western shores of the Inland Sea and Lake Myojin, and the Nasu Plain has fallen."

"Worst of all, it has been many years now since General Nifong and his cavalry swept down from the Granite Mountains." He spoke the Earth Kingdom leader's name with bitterness, but grudging respect.

"Since then this scourge of the Sun Spirit has destroyed four Fire Nation armies. Over three hundred thousand loyal Fire Nation soldiers dead or missing. The list of our defeats at his hands is long and sordid. You know them all! Names like Hefei, Sun Valley, and the Song. Among those lost at the infamous Battle of the Song was my brother, Prince Xian's father, who passed to the spirit world that day with the help of an assassin's blade! As if the enemy isn't enough for us to contend with, we suffer the evils of treachery within our own ranks as well."

At this several noblemen rose from their seats with cries of, "Lord, may you live forever!" Azulon silenced these with a wave of his hand and continued.

"One by one, our great strongholds have been sacked and destroyed. Of the five original colonies, only Mequon remains. How long will we sit idly by and allow our patrimony to be stolen by our inferiors?"

"The time has come for us to renew our commitment to victory with the blood of our enemies! In my father's time we replaced sailing vessels with ironclads and with this power I took absolute control of the seas! Now we must do the same on land. The construction and training of our new army is nearly complete and the armored war machines that it contains will finally give us the advantage we need to overcome the Earth Kingdom's numbers!"

Azulon paused and looked over at his brother's son, "Prince Xian!"

Xian rose instantly from his seat, walked behind the table and knelt before his uncle.

"Yes, Lord."

"I place you in command of the new army and all Fire Nation forces north of the Great Divide. Your orders are to avenge your noble father's death! Invade the Nasu plain and destroy General Nifong and his cavalry by the end of the coming summer. To aid you in this enterprise, Prince Tien Shin shall be your daimyo. My son, Prince Iroh, will join you as well. Do you accept this honor?"

"I do, Lord Azulon," Xian replied in a strong, clear voice.

"Then may the Sun Spirit grant you victory, General Xian. Destroy our enemies and your name shall live forever."

Xian remained kneeling, his head bowed as Azulon, followed closely by his wife, turned and left the Great Hall through the exit to his apartments in the rear. The nobility and civil servants stood up in silence as the Fire Lord made his way out.

When he was gone, the room erupted in chatter as the Fire Lord's decision was instantly praised, debated, and, albeit quietly, criticized in some quarters. Many remarked that Prince Xian was justly popular for his role in General Shu's past victories and that his record as interim governor had demonstrated his administrative abilities, while others countered that four years of experience was little compared to General Nifong's distinguished quarter century of triumphant re-conquest.

These thoughts of the chattering class mattered little to Prince Iroh, who stood up in anger and marched over to his cousin. Xian shifted his glance to see Tien Shin stand up and walk over to him as well.

"Congratulations, cousin! The Fire Lord has honored you with a difficult, but glorious task," Tien Shin said in greeting. He was taller than both Xian and Iroh, his face leaner. His hair was black and from his cheeks grew the traditional Fire Nation sideburns. His eyes were pools of dark, liquid brown, and though his words were gracious, his tone was too measured and calculating to be truly friendly.

Xian bowed and replied, "He has, Tien Shin, and I hope for your full support. I will need it to succeed."

"No, you won't!" interjected Iroh hotly. Pointing an accusatory finger at his step brother he continued, "This imposter is neither my brother nor your cousin, Xian! He is Lady Ila's son by her own first marriage," then turning to Tien Shin, "which you seem determined to forget, Tien Shin! You are not my father's son, you are a pretender to whom my father has given a title to please his wife!"

"Two titles, Iroh," Tien Shin purred, "I am now daimyo of the Army of the Great Divide, and your superior officer. I will see that you learn respect."

"How? Are you planning to arrest me for treason as well?" retorted the young Prince, "You're a disgrace, Tien Shin, a disgrace who curries favor with my father by playing to his basest fears."

Tien Shin's grin grew slightly wider, his tone softer and more malevolent, "The Fire Lord does not agree with you, Prince. He, at least, appreciates those who watch his back for him. Isn't it a shame that he has to rely on me and not his own sons for his protection?"

Iroh, stung badly by this insult, lunged toward his step-brother. Xian grabbed him by the shoulders to prevent him from reaching his target. Tien Shin's icy smile did not waver, nor did his gaze lift from Iroh as he bowed slightly to Xian. Then, with a single backward glance of contempt, Tien Shin turned and left the hall.

Still fuming, Iroh turned to his cousin, "Father cannot be serious, Xian! Why did he choose him to be daimyo! I will not take orders from that simpering idiot! Tien Shin is a filthy, scheming –," he cut himself off as Xian sighed and held up a hand in a mollifying gesture.

"Calm yourself cousin," he said, releasing Iroh's shoulder, "Nothing has happened that cannot be mended."

Iroh opened his mouth to reply, but his cousin had begun leading him down the steps of the dais and now they reached the main floor of the hall where the guests still congregated. Nothing more could be said as a large group of noblemen, bureaucrats and members of the War College pressed around them to offer their congratulations and well wishes for a swift victory. Iroh, now convinced that the torture of this Harvest Moon feast would never end, was unable to speak to his cousin again for the rest of the evening.