Chapter 2

Seven years later...

Fire Lord Azulon watched with some interest as Iroh demonstrated his newest fire bending form. His eldest son was maturing into a fine young man, worthy of being Fire Lord one day. Ozai, his younger son, sat in a corner of the throne room, gazing intently at the flames his older brother produced as he went through his routine. Azulon had been away on a failed campaign in the Earth Kingdom the day Ozai had been born, and Azulon had never been able to bond with him in the Seven years since then. Though he tried to deny it, push it aside, deep down he resented his youngest son. His wife, who he had loved more that his own life, had died bringing Ozai into the world. It wasn't the child's fault, but still Azulon resented him. He couldn't help but see Ozai as little more that throne insurance, someone there to succeed him in case, God forbid, something were to happen to Iroh. Beyond that, Azulon saw no reason for his younger son's existence. And though he tried to love Ozai, he couldn't help but to blame him for Ila's death.

Iroh finished his form, bowed to his father, and waited for his father to speak. Fire Lord Azulon had been a fire bending prodigy since childhood, and he expected nothing less from his sons, especially from his eldest son and heir. "Excellent, Prince Iroh. You show great improvement. Master Yakedo had taught you well."

Iroh again bowed to his father. "Thank you for the compliment, Father."

Azulon took a deep breath. "Do you know what tomorrow is, Prince Iroh?"

"How could I forget, Father? Tomorrow is the seven year anniversary of Mother's death."

Azulon nodded slowly. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Most of the year he was an unemotional, tough minded, unyielding Fire Lord. But on this one day, he found it hard to keep all his sadness and grief inside. Every year it was the same. He would visit Ila's grave site alone at sunrise, and it was only then when he was completely alone that he allowed himself to cry. Only then could he show any emotion at all. "I will visit her grave at sunrise, Prince Iroh. You and you're brother will go at sunset. Understood?"

"Yes, Father. I understand." With that Iroh bowed again to his father, and took his leave. Ozai looked questioningly up at his father, his five seven old mind not able to fully comprehend the conversation between his brother and father. Ozai stared back, his cold, brown eyes displaying all the resentment he had for his youngest son. Finally Ozai turned away to stare sadly down at his feet, and he did not dare move until one of the guards came to take him back to his chamber.

The next day seemed to pass by painfully slowly for the two oldest members of the royal family. Fire Lord Azulon made his annual visit to his wife's grave site at sunrise, and did not return to the palace until it was nearly mid day. At sunset Iroh and Ozai went to the grave to pay their respects.

"Big Brother?" Ozai asked as Iroh placed two incense sticks and an incense holder on his mother's grave. "Can I ask you a question?"

Iroh nodded as he lit the incense sticks. "What is it, Ozai?"

"What was Mother like? Everyone tells me stories and things about her, but I never knew her so I don't really know what she was like. Can you tell me?"

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"Did she love me?"

Iroh paused for a second, not exactly sure how to answer his brother's question. "Well, Mother died soon after you were born, but yes Ozai, for the couple minutes she lived after you're birth, she did love you."

Ozai nodded. "Good. I wish she had lived. Maybe then Father wouldn't hate me."

Iroh nearly blurted out "Father doesn't hate you" but he thought netter of it and instead something. He knew that if he told Ozai that their father loved him it would be a lie. Iroh could still hear his mother's words to him in his head, telling him not to resent his brother. Iroh had promised his mother that he wouldn't, and for the most part he had been able to keep that promise. Azulon, on the other hand, felt nothing but resentment towards his younger son. He blamed Ozai for Ila's death. And no matter how hard Ozai tried to win their father's approval, nothing seemed to work.

When Iroh said nothing Ozai spoke again. "Do you think that if I work really hard and get really good at my fire bending Father will love me? You are really good at fire bending and Father is always saying good things about you, so maybe if I get really good at fire bending Father will love me too."

Iroh sighed out of frustration, trying to figure out how to explain all this to his younger brother. "It isn't that Father hates you Ozai, but he loved out mother very much. It really hurt him when she died, and it still hurts him that she isn't here that she isn't here with him. Do you understand?"

"I guess so. But I still don't see why Father hates me. I'm a good son, aren't I? I mean, I try to bee a good son. I just don't understand. I mean, I know Father loves you so I try to act just like you and do everything like you, but it doesn't work! I study hard with Master Yakedo so that I can be as good at fire bending as you are, but it doesn't work!" Ozai was yelling now, obviously frustrated. "Why does Father love you and hate me? I don't understand it! What am I doing wrong?!"

Iroh was taken aback by his brother's outburst. He had no idea that a seven year old child could harbor so much rage and anger. Ozai stared at him demanding an answer to his question. But Iroh had no answer, at least not one that a seven year old could understand. Finally Iroh rose to his feet, bowed respectfully to his mother's grave, and turned to his younger brother. "It's nearly dark. Lets go home to the palace, and then you can join me for some nice jasmine tea. How does that sound?" Ozai nodded and the two brothers began to walk silently home.

Finally Ozai broke the silence. "You know what brother? Someday when I have children I'm going to love all my children, no matter what."

"I hope you do, Ozai. I hope you do." The two brothers continued to walk home in silence. He didn't know why, but the uneasiness that he had felt on the day of Ozai's birth suddenly came back. He had no explanation for it, but the dark cloud Iroh had sensed hanging over Ozai's head when he was born had returned, bigger and darker than ever before. All Iroh could do was to look up at the darkening sky, and pray to the spirits for to guide and protect his younger brother, and help him to deal with all the anger and hurt he had inside.