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 LXIX – The Duel
Iroh burst into his apartment, his mind awash in a swirling, molten mixture of anger, fear, despair and helplessness. Two servants appeared from nowhere. He suffered their assistance to remove his breastplate, but waved them off as soon as it was gone. With curt, jerky movements he removed his greaves, gauntlets, boots and other pieces of armor. He handed them over to the servants and dismissed them to retreat to his bedroom.
He sat down heavily upon the great chest at the foot of his bed. He wanted to weep, but refused. The world spun around him. Fate had once again thrust him down from commanding heights. Early that afternoon he had stood at the open doors of the Temple of Sun gazing into the loving countenance of the woman he loved. Now he felt powerless to save her and his adopted sister from slavery. Dimly he recalled the awful descent from elation to panic during that awful third day of Mequon.
I can't let this happen! She's a hero and he treats her like… like she's nothing! I can't let this be!
He rocked back and forth, his mind trying desperately to assert control over his emotions, but failing.
The other horrifying development haunted him.
I'm sorry, Rae, oh Agni, I'm so sorry! That son of a bitch is winning…I've lost Xian, and Nikon, I've sent a hundred thousand men to their deaths… and I still can't stop him…
On the floor a mosaic sun dial showed the feast would begin in less than an hour. Steeling himself, he stood up and walked over to the adjoining thermae where a hot bath awaited him. He hoped rather than believed that the warm, tranquil water would calm his inner torrent. Once stripped down, he stepped down into the deep, steaming pool of water. His fear proved prophetic however and minutes later he toweled himself off in no better state than when he entered.
Wearing only a towel he marched into the dressing room to find the servants waiting to dress him for the feast. Next to a curule chair a table had been laid out with a small pot of tea, a cup and two scrolls. After he put on his underclothes he considered the teapot and decided to pour himself a cup, though he did not really want it. The memory of Xian and anguish for Chieng bade him take it. A quick sip made him tense reflexively. It was ginseng, but it stirred the memory of hyacinth.
He put the cup down.
"Who sent the messages?" he asked the servants.
"We don't know, your Highness," the elder replied, "They were delivered with the refreshment from the kitchen."
He picked up the missives. They were identical. He opened the first.
The handwriting was unmistakable, but he couldn't read it.
"What the… what the hell is this!?" Iroh questioned in incredulity.
The message was coded using bizarre symbols comprised mostly of geometric shapes and foreign characters. The handwriting was Tien Shin's.
He flicked open the second.
"Bring me a desk! Now!" he barked.
The servants responded instantly and moments later he was cross legged on the floor with a dark wood writing table over his lap. The teapot and its cup were placed discreetly on a corner.
"Leave me!"
"Your Highness! The feast begins in half –"
"Out! Out, I said!"
The servants obeyed and slid the door closed behind them.
Iroh worked furiously. The second scroll contained a substitution cipher key written in the same print used by the capital's numerous news rags. The first message did not take long to decode. He never finished the operation. Halfway through the decryption he stopped and reread the uncoded portion over and over, his insides boiling up inside him.
He dropped the scroll and stood, upending the desk and its contents. The teapot shattered on the hardwood floor.
Seconds later he erupted from his apartments, his fists wreathed in bright orange fire. He never thought once of Rhiannon's vision.
The winter sun hung low in the sky. The feast was to begin at sundown. Even at this time of year the hours of sunrise and sunset did not vary much in the Fire Nation. They perhaps had twenty minutes before the event.
Iroh, his mind aflame, preserved just enough sanity to guide him to where he was most likely to find his victim.
A small group of notaries had gathered in the annex adjacent to the Fire Lord's grand reception hall, patiently awaiting the appearance of the Fire Lord himself. The annex was a long, wide, salon with open windows that faced west. The east wall was hung with tapestries separated by large oil lamps lit in anticipation of a night of celebration and supported by long iron pikes.
General Shu, Gan, Tien Shin, Tojo and a few other nobles stood together speaking quietly. All wore dress uniforms, having permission on such a high occasion to wear their decorations. Gone was the burnished armor worn during the procession.
Iroh heard none of the conversation. He marked only his target and the beautiful pair of blue enameled war fans that hung on either side of the hated prince's belt.
The party looked up in surprise and shock at Iroh's roar of rage as he burst into the far end of the room. The young general looked nothing like he had appeared earlier, resplendent as he had been in his triumphant regalia. Iroh was, in fact, wearing nothing but his underclothes. He was, however, beyond embarrassment or even understanding.
"Iroh!" Gan exclaimed in horror.
He ignored his friend and everyone else in the room. He looked only at the man he intended to kill.
Tien Shin locked eyes with Iroh and saw no trace of the brash, gentle idiot he had long despised. Instead, the Crown Prince's soft brown orbs, now hard as adamant, burned with the Will of Fire.
"General Iroh, what is –" Gan's father broke in, but was silenced by the body of the Crown Prince blowing past him.
Tojo and the other nobles, shocked and terrified at the unanticipated turn of events, hopped out of the way as they identified the target of the sudden and violent assault.
Iroh's hands and forearms burned with bright orange fire. He was completely unaware that he had burned off the sleeves of his undertunic. Suddenly he was within melee range, having closed the gap between him and his opponent in what seemed an instant. As on the steppes weeks before, his mastery of close combat tactics and agni kai was drowned out by rage, pain and hatred, his only thought to get his hands around the neck of his tormentor.
Tien Shin stood his ground and managed a few words before Iroh began his attack.
"Stop this, Iroh! We will have no agni –"
The elder prince dodged a crushing blow and a second later a jet of fire which Iroh launched from his offhand.
"Get help!" Gan's father shouted to his son.
Gan moved instantly to comply, but Iroh did not hear it. He did not hear or see anything other than his opponent.
The tessen appeared in Tien Shin's hands. With a quick, practiced flick the fan blades spread wide, revealing intricate silver designs that glinted in the shafts of light cast by the rapidly setting sun.
"Come to your death then, animal!" Tien Shin sneered in a sneering voice that none but Iroh could hear, "You have played my game and lost!"
Iroh did not respond. He didn't even hear the words. He controlled his breathing and his chi. This was the extent and limit of his control and with great effort he focused all his will to that end.
As the elder prince spoke, Iroh assumed a basic horse stance and aimed a blast of fire at his opponent's lower body. Tien Shin danced gracefully out of the way, stepped forward, turned and swept Iroh's feet out from under him. The Crown Prince responded instantly by using his then free legs to entangle Tien Shin's. Both went down in a heap on the floor and simultaneously rolled back onto their feet and stood.
The elder prince, using the twin advantages of greater reach and weaponry, took the offensive. His main hand war fan zipped past Iroh's nose, but the second came down with a resounding crack on his opponent's shoulder. Iroh roared in pain, but the blow did not truly register in his body. The adrenalin and emotion prevented him from suffering its effects.
Tien Shin pivoted on one foot and swung his main hand tessen once again in a short jab aimed at Iroh's throat. In a lightning reflexive move Iroh blocked the fan by sandwiching it between the palms of his hands. A blow with the off hand fan was deflected by a kick from Iroh which knocked the blade out of his opponent's grip. The tessen clattered to the floor. A second kick landed on Tien Shin's abdomen which separated them momentarily.
Dimly Iroh was aware that the audience had grown. A circle of faceless, nameless, elegantly dressed party guests now lined the regularly spaced apertures connecting the annex to the entry hall. Every face wore a horrified mixture of shock and fascination. The Crown Prince, Victor of Mequon, was at that moment without any trace of doubt parading around in his bedclothes engaged in a clear, high intensity attempt to kill his step brother. Tien Shin was an object of fear and loathing, but not one of them knew why General Iroh had chosen that moment or the bizarre method to move against him. Many rooted for his success. All feared the consequences should he lose.
The world held its breath as the combatants battled with ever increasing fury.
Tien Shin launched several quick fire balls all of which landed, but which were expertly dissipated by Iroh's steepled palms. The elder prince back flipped, landed on his hands, then launched himself back off the ground, deftly grabbing the errant war fan as he leapt back into the air. He landed on his feet only to whirl and see Iroh halfway through a terrifying wind up that he recognized instantly.
The Crown Prince had seized the opportunity without thinking. Widening his stance and taking a deep, measured breath, he prepared to split his chi. The air around his hands crackled and popped with rapidly rising electric potential. Slowly he brought the middle and index fingers of each hand toward each other.
"Lightning!" General Shu suddenly bellowed, seeing the danger, "Run!"
Everyone began screaming at once.
The scene disintegrated into a panic as the onlookers vacated in a sudden, uncoordinated stampede. As the crowd receded to the entry hall several palace guards burst onto the scene only to freeze when they saw what was happening.
Tien Shin, blocked by the crowd and unable to flee, closed his tessen, turned and grabbed one of the pikes supporting the oil lamps. The glass bulb immediately fell from the top of the pike and blew up all over the floor. The elder prince ignored the rapidly spreading flames and drove the iron pike deep into the tile.
The room flashed brilliant white as Iroh discharged. A raw arc of bright blue electricity sprang forth from his extended right arm. A blast of hot air whiplashed against his face as the compression shock of the blast expanded around them. The smoke cleared to reveal the iron stake melted in place where it had been driven into the floor, three dead or dying guards and Tien Shin, undamaged and springing forward to the attack.
With a cry of impotent rage, his breathing ragged, Iroh surged forward to meet his opponent's charge.
The elder prince snapped open his war fans. His eyes stung both from the stench of ozone and the burnt human flesh of the ill fated guards who had taken the brunt of the attack. Stunned by the power of the Iroh's prowess, he nevertheless moved with lethal precision, knowing his only hope for survival lay in his opponent's undisciplined attack.
Iroh launched two quick blasts of fire that Tien Shin batted out of the way with his weapons. He then swung off hand which Iroh blocked with his own. Anticipating a swing from Tien Shin's main hand, Iroh moved to block, but Tien Shin instead stepped to his left, freeing his off hand once more and allowing a second attack. Iroh jumped back to avoid the second blow, but not far enough to avoid the sudden slash from his opponent's main hand. A large, bloody gash opened across Iroh's chest. He felt nothing except a spreading cold sensation.
The crowd had returned to block the exits and stared in fear and wonder at the carnage. No one dared enter the annex itself. Somewhere behind the mass of nobles and servants Iroh could hear shouts of people trying to wade through the throng. His ears heard the sounds, but the meaning was utterly lost on him. He continued his absolute focus on his opponent.
Tien Shin shifted his stance back and forth as he probed for another opportunity to attack. His main hand tessen ran crimson with Iroh's blood.
His opponent laughed under his breath.
"You're finished, "brother"," he exulted, "Just like your idiot cousin and filthy street rat friend… and you've done it all for me!"
Iroh found his voice, though the words that finally emerged came out in a low, threatening growl that seemed to come from another body entirely.
"You… you killed him… you killed him…"
A knowing, evil smile appeared on his opponent's face. He twirled his war fan in a taunting gesture.
"Prove it," he purred.
Iroh roared and launched himself forward. Unbalanced and moving too fast, Tien Shin stepped out of his way and, closing a fan, calmly stabbed him in the arm with its sharp end in a single, fluid motion. The other still spread wide cut a clean arc across his back. Blood quickly drenched both sides of his undertunic.
Hot, searing pain instantly penetrated Iroh's shield of adrenalin and anger. He howled in agony as Tien Shin withdrew the weapon and unfolded it once again. Iroh staggered back and looked with hatred into the eyes of the enemy. He fired two quick jets of fire from the ends of his war fans which Iroh barely dodged, his breath now coming in sharp, painful gasps.
The elder prince, his confidence soaring, continued to gloat.
"You're a failure, Iroh, unworthy of your father and grandfather! You lost Xian, your gutter trash friend and now Rhiannon! After you're gone I will take your place! And then… then I will make sure Gan and that arrogant dreadnought whore you love so much follows you!"
Iroh's vision went red with rage, once again blotting the pain of his wounds.
"Never!" he vowed with a hoarse scream.
"Stop me then!" the elder prince taunted, his eyes sharp and full of malice.
Agni, help me! Help me save them! Save her!
Then, as he stood there, his vision blurred, his breath ragged, his mind suddenly calmed and he saw clearly. The prophecy of Rhiannon returned to him.
So, this is how it happens.
He stood straight and raised his palms, aflame once more, to a guard position.
Let it be then.
"Yes, Tien Shin, I am stopping you… right now…and a victory greater even than Mequon will it be."
Iroh forced down the pain and anger, the world resolving into focus around him. His ragged breath settled. He scanned the annex and finally saw the crowd. At the back, Macro had just appeared with a dozen palace guards.
He turned back to his tormentor.
Tien Shin stepped forward once more, slicing and swiping at Iroh with his war fans. They clicked and clacked with distinctive metallic sounds as the elder prince rhythmically opened and shut the blades as he pressed forward his attack. Iroh blocked each blow that came close enough to land. Over three sets of attack and counter they had turned about so that Iroh now had most of the hallway behind him.
Ignoring the pain and rapidly spreading sensation of numbness in his back, Iroh parried one last thrust from his opponent before bending low and sweeping his right foot in semi circle along the floor. A long, perfectly formed arc of flame blossomed from his foot and expanded outwards. Tien Shin dodged by leaping into the air, but lost the initiative. When he landed Iroh had already launched a fist wreathed in fire which connected solidly with Tien Shin's neck.
The elder prince cried out in agony, his flesh searing at the direct contact with Iroh's flaming hand. The former daimyo slapped away his opponent's fist from his wounded neck with a sharp crack from his main hand tessen. He staggered back, choking from the blow to his wind pipe.
Sensing possibility, Iroh used the momentum from the war fan's blow to bring his arm back around and grab Tien Shin's main hand wrist. The elder prince himself then twisted in an attempt to land an off hand blow. Anticipating the move, Iroh quickly grabbed his off hand wrist as well.
They stood locked together for a moment, both straining against the other.
Then, feeling his body's strength ebbing from the blood loss, with a massive heave he turned his back to his opponent and pulled him over his shoulder in one swift, liquid move. Tien Shin landed on his back with a clatter. The elder prince attempted to roll away, which Iroh allowed him to do at the cost of losing his tessen. As Tien Shin twisted away the Crown Prince slid his grip up his opponent's wrists until they alighted on the shafts of the blue enameled weapons. As Tien Shin's body accelerated away he provided all the momentum required for Iroh to retain them.
Tien Shin regained his feet to see Iroh brandishing his twin trademarks.
Iroh flicked open the tessen and swung them in a rapid series of sharp, controlled arcs at his retreating opponent. With a few measured breaths he found he was able to imbue the blades in an intense nimbus of fire. Tien dodged and answered with rapid blasts of flame of his own from both hands and feet, but none landed.
Suddenly the elder prince found himself backed into the melted pike that had saved his life from Iroh's lightning. Surprised, he tried to recover by twisting away, but the unexpected obstacle made him lose his balance.
Iroh heard a commotion from the crowd behind him as he leapt to take advantage of his hated enemy's misstep.
"Stop! I command it!"
The voice was thunderous, cold and utterly unmistakable.
Iroh ignored it.
He swung the flaming edged of the wide open tessen clean across Tien Shin's exposed neck. A shower of blood exploded from the wide and deep wound. Almost instantly the warm, sticky liquid covered him and his victim. Iroh followed up with a slash across his chest and finally, snapping both blades shut, brought a double blow on the elder's prince's exposed head. The second of these produced a sickening crack that left no doubt as to its effect.
Tien Shin fell to the ground, his body jerking uncontrollably, as his life blood poured forth onto the tile floor. Iroh fell to his knees next to him, the war fans clattering to the floor.
He breathed heavily as his step-brother's convulsing body slowed and then stilled.
Slow and deliberate footsteps came up behind him. He looked up. Macro and the palace guards now stood before him. The crowd watched in terrified silence from the archways.
"What is the meaning of this outrage, General Iroh?" his father's voice demanded.
Iroh did not reply. He stared at the now silent corpse of his opponent. He felt cold and weak.
More footsteps, smaller and lighter than his fathers. A woman appeared in a beautiful gown of red and orange, a pair of golden Fire Nation pins holding her hair, and stepped past Iroh.
Lady Ila knelt before the broken body of her son. Ignoring his killer and the blood and gore of his defeat, she lifted him up into her arms and hugged him. Some in the audience began to cry at this simple display.
"Answer me!" the Fire Lord bellowed.
Iroh turned to face his destiny. The Fire Lord stood flanked by Ozai and Gan.
"Father…" he began in a slurred, heavy voice, "He killed Xian… at Lake Myojin… I found a letter he wrote to Lady Ila but could never send…"
Lady Ila did not reply. She ignored everyone as she cradled the body of her dead son.
"General," Azulon replied in a slow, deadly tone, "No matter the reason, you have engaged in agni kai and used deadly force within the bounds of the palace itself!"
"This was no agni kai, my Lord," Macro inserted in a loud, strong voice, "General Iroh offered no challenge and none was accepted."
A ripple ran through the crowd.
The Fire Lord loomed imperiously over the bloody body of his son.
"Is this true?"
"Yes, father."
The sun set, the last rays of light winking out as the last edge of the burning orb sunk beneath the horizon.
"You have condemned yourself, General."
"Father, Tien Shin was a murderer! I have the evidence! Let me show you!"
Lady Ila spoke, anguish and hatred burning in her eyes.
"A murderer?" she cried, "As you have shown yourself to be?"
Turning to her husband, still cradling the broken body of her son, she cried.
"Husband! I ask only the ancient law be honored! I do not seek revenge! Revenge will not bring my son back from the spirit world!" then turning back to Iroh, her eyes burning with hatred, "but let Iroh's fate be a lesson to those who would dishonor the Fire Nation!"
The Fire Lord regarded his son evenly.
"Bring him," he commanded, "and see to the body Prince Tien Shin and the others."
Macro and another guard strode forward and gently helped Iroh to his feet. Others helped Lady Ila cover the body of her son and prepare it for transport. The slain guards were picked up from where they had fallen by their comrades.
The crowd erupted in a thousand conversations. The fight had only last minutes, but news of it had already spread throughout the palace. Within hours it would be all over the capital, spread by the same cheap periodicals that had so effectively heralded the great victory at Mequon.
The guards forced a path through the crowd for the Fire Lord's party. Within minutes they arrived at Iroh's apartment. The troopers flung open the doors and the party immediately entered. The reception room was empty as were the other rooms.
A search of the dressing room revealed nothing. The overturned writing desk and the broken teapot remained where Iroh remembered them. The scrolls were gone.
The servants were summoned. Both quaked with fear as Macro questioned them harshly. Neither had entered the apartment after Iroh had dismissed them in such anger. Macro released them.
"Nothing, my Lord," Macro reported after the guards had rifled the whole apartment.
The Fire Lord had remained impassive during the proceedings, his arms crossed before him. Ozai and Gan wore inscrutable expressions for different reasons.
"Where is this evidence then?"
"I don't know father," Iroh confessed sadly.
Iroh explained the coded letter and the cipher key.
"I don't know where the letters came from or how they got there. I acted on them in anger without thinking," he lowered his head, "I am a fool."
"Yes, my son," Azulon agreed without a trace of sympathy, "and we all shall suffer for it, for your actions have left me no choice but to apply the law."
"Don't you believe me, father?"
"Yes," Azulon replied harshly, "but what does that matter? You have committed kinslaying outside of agni kai – in front of the entire capital! You have wantonly slain innocent guardsmen charged with the protection of the palace! You must know that protect the integrity of my rule I must act as the impartial arbiter of justice! Especially with my own family!"
"Yes, Iroh, you have proven yourself a fool, but I swear that from this moment you will have all the time you need to grow wise – and suffering will be your teacher! I will send you to an island so small the tides won't even know of its existence! Ten minutes from end to end, I promise you! You will know every stone and blade of grass before your first sunset. There you can reflect on your foolishness and wonder at the fates of your friends in a world at war! A war you could have stopped!"
Iroh bowed his head.
"General Iroh," the Fire Lord began again formally, "you have committed a crime of passion rather than premeditation, and but for that you would have earned death. However, you have slain a kinsman in the Royal Palace without cause. You have slain loyal members of the palace guard without cause."
"Therefore… I sentence you to be stripped of all rank and command, that you be dishonorably discharged the service and suffer exile from our lands as the common criminal you have shown yourself to be."
"Have you anything to say?"
Iroh looked into the faces around him. His father. His brother. Gan. Macro.
He lowered his gaze.
I'm sorry, Rhiannon, I'm sorry my love, but you're safe now. Safe.
"No, father."
Iron clasps clicked around his wrists and he felt the weight of heavy chain that would be his constant companion for years to come.
