Equivalent Exchange
Chapter 13: Disillusionment
It lay on the table, looking up at Zuko, those words inscribed on its rich looking cover, 'A World without Balance' making him twitch. He still hadn't read the damn thing. He really didn't want to. But his uncle, though he never mentioned the book by name, often mentioned it by implication. Zuko knew it was important to Iroh, so he picked it up, got comfortable in the room's armchair and turned to the first page.
It was written by a Fire Nation scholar, ironically enough; no wonder it had been banned in Zuko's homeland. No Fire Lord would want treasonous talk like that getting out. But really, there was nothing treasonous about the book at all. It was instead, a perfectly reasonable sounding explanation for why all the nations were needed, why all the elements, each one as important as the next, were needed to maintain a fragile balance and harmony. The Fire Nation's great 'March of Civilization' threatened that balance and every day that the war continued, the threads that held their world together frayed a tiny bit more.
Of course, the largest damage was done a hundred or so years earlier when Sozin had the entire Air Nomad population wiped out. An entire race of people was suddenly just gone. It was a disturbing thought, one that Zuko sometimes preferred to push into some disused portion of his mind. It raised questions that were easier left unanswered.
He'd seen the evidence himself, though, on that harrowing trip to the Southern Air Temple. The wind and the odd bird or animal were the only things that stirred there now. It must have been a beautiful place back when it was thriving, just as the other temples must have been. Zuko recalled walking with Mai and coming upon entire skeletons still wearing bits of their yellow robes. They found bones scorched from the intensity of the fire used by Sozin's army, charred bits of what were once human beings. His stomach had twisted into hard little knots at the sight. He had closed his eyes and swallowed, trying not to retch; not so much at the sight itself but at what it said about his own nation.
Mai hadn't said anything, but there was a look in her eyes that he rarely saw; something melancholy almost. They were both quiet and withdrawn for days after.
When Zuko finished the thin volume, he sought out his uncle, eventually finding him having a game of pai sho with King Bumi. They were both intent on the board and didn't pay Zuko any mind at all. The prince plunked himself down on a sofa and stretched out, watching the game through heavy lidded eyes. It seemed to go on for an eternity. Bumi made loud exclamatory noises while his uncle thought quietly and long before each of his moves. Finally, with an understated flourish, Iroh moved his final piece and won the game. He thanked Bumi and then turned his attention to Zuko.
"Did you need to talk about something, nephew?" he asked.
Zuko looked at his uncle, then at Bumi and then back to his uncle again. He raised his one eyebrow.
"Ah, it's a personal matter, yes?"
Zuko nodded, though that wasn't quite the truth. He just didn't feel like having this conversation in front of the wacky king.
"Let's go to my room, then. We'll stop by the kitchen first and make some tea."
The prince rolled his eyes but acquiesced. He waited impatiently while Iroh went through his tea making ritual.
"Can't you just let one of the servants do it?" he finally asked.
"I could," Iroh replied. "But tea is something I prefer to make myself."
He selected two cups and placed them along with the pot on a simple wood tray. Carefully he walked down the wide hallways that led to the bedrooms, Zuko trailing along behind.
"Open that door for me, would you, Zuko?" Iroh asked.
"Oh, yeah," Zuko replied and stepped forward briskly.
Once inside, Iroh nestled down into one corner of the simple green sofa and gestured for Zuko to join him. The former Dragon of the West looked almost cherubic as he poured the tea, a wide, content smile on his face, humming something vaguely familiar under his breath. He handed Zuko a cup and then leaned back, sighing and closing wise amber eyes.
"Go ahead, nephew; talk."
Zuko looked down into the steaming cup he held between his hands. Maybe he could find the right words in there. No, he would have to use his own stumbling ones.
"I, um, read the book you got me for my birthday."
Iroh opened his eyes, sat up and peered closely at Zuko as if he expected to see some sort of mark on him that indicated a change or signified some sort of revelation.
"Yes, and what did you think?" he asked eagerly.
"It, well, it made sense," the prince replied and immediately felt inadequate.
"Yes, and what else do you think?" Iroh prodded.
"I feel like you're trying to convert me or something. I feel like I have to hate my country and my people."
"No, Zuko, it isn't like that."
"Then what is it like?" Zuko almost shouted. "Everything's so damn confusing."
"Someone needs to put things right again. Someone needs to stop this war, stop Ozai before the world is too damaged to ever recover. It's senseless, all of it. People are dying, families are being destroyed and all because your father, my brother and those that came before him think that we are somehow superior, that our element is the dominant one."
"Why can't it be someone else?" Zuko asked quietly. "Why does it have to be me?"
"You're not like him, Zuko. I know that. You can bring honour back to our nation. It needs it desperately. Who else would you have be Fire Lord? Azula?"
"What about you?" the prince asked. "You should have been Fire Lord anyway."
"No, someone young and idealistic needs to take the throne."
"What if I, we, fail?"
"I don't know; but we need to do something. Look, we're only planning right now. You've got lots of time to improve your bending and to get used to the whole idea. I know that it's difficult to think about and terrifying, but nephew, the world needs you. It needs the Order of the White Lotus. It needs the Avatar but it looks as though we'll have to accomplish things without him."
"I should have just kept my mouth shut," Zuko muttered, not thinking Iroh would hear.
"There's no use regretting your words now, nephew. You stood up for your people and you stood against senseless, wasteful loss of life. Your error was in where and when you said those words. But, like I've said, what you did in that war room is all the proof I need that you are not your father's son. You are your mother's son."
Zuko flinched at those last words. He had lived four years now without his mother's unconditional love, without her kind eyes watching him, without their times together just talking and laughing about silly things. And after those four long years, the pain of her loss was just as intense. He was simply better at compartmentalizing the grief now. It was tucked neatly away somewhere but sometimes a word, or a smell or the sight of a woman about his mother's age, someone whose way of walking was similar or whose lips quirked upward in a smile something like his mother's did, brought the pain out into the light, sharp and searing and almost unbearable.
The prince felt the beginning of tears and blinked his eyes rapidly so that they wouldn't fall.
"Do you really think," he began in a hoarse whisper, "that she's alive somewhere?"
"I can't say for sure, nephew, but I think that there's hope."
"I think that not knowing is worse. If there was a funeral and I watched, watched…then maybe I could, I don't know….live with it better."
"Yes," Iroh agreed. "That would have given you a certain peace. But look at the good in your life."
"Yeah, I'm an exiled prince doomed to wander the Earth Kingdom forever; life is great," Zuko snapped bitterly.
"Zuko," Iroh said softly.
He sat up and moved closer to his nephew on the sofa, clasping the young man's shoulder tightly.
"Sometimes I miss home so much," Zuko said.
His words hung in the air, naked and vulnerable and he looked at the far wall, imagining volcanoes and the soft sand of Ember Island, quiet corridors hung with tapestries of red and gold and a pond busy with the activity of turtleducks.
"I understand," Iroh acknowledged. "It's a difficult thing."
"I don't think I've ever thanked you, Uncle, for coming with me. You and Mai make things bearable."
"I'm glad to be here with you. And I think that Mai makes things much more than bearable. How are you two getting along these days?"
"Things are good," Zuko said.
His face always softened when he spoke of or thought of Mai and this time was no different. The hard lines and wistful look were replaced with an almost sweet smile and a slight tilt of his head.
Iroh cleared his throat. "Do we need to have 'the talk'?"
"Wha, what?" Zuko asked. "Agni, no, please, no."
"So, you know…"
"Stop, Uncle. Yes, I know how things work."
"Alright, alright," Iroh chuckled. "I trust you to treat Mai with honour and care, nephew. Don't disappoint me."
Zuko's face was bright red by now, the colour of his good skin giving his scar a run for its money.
"I won't, Uncle. I would never do anything to hurt Mai. I would never do anything that she doesn't want to do."
"Good, good," Iroh replied. "Now, I think you could do with a little work out. You've had an easy morning of it."
"I'll go change," Zuko agreed and left Iroh with his thoughts.
About three months later, King Bumi's palace
Mai and Zuko packed their meager belongings into satchels and bags, checking around their rooms just to make sure they had left nothing behind. They were leaving in a few minutes, under the cover of early morning darkness. The komodo-rhinos, well taken care of during their four month stay in Omashu, were eager and more than ready for another journey. Jee still hadn't quite won over Kusogaki, despite his daily visits to the stables.
Bumi had held a farewell dinner for the group and generously given Iroh a pouch of Earth Kingdom money to help with their expenses. Their plan was to head back west, beyond the port town of Anshan, and to another member of the Order of the White Lotus. He was aware of their imminent arrival and was fully prepared to have them stay for more than a year, if they wanted.
"Ready?" Mai asked.
"Yeah," Zuko replied. "But…..I'll actually kind of miss this place."
"I've gotten used to it, at least," Mai agreed. "And it's comfortable."
"It's been almost a year, Mai."
"I know, in two more days," the black haired young woman answered.
"Agni, a whole year away from home; it went by so fast."
Mai inclined her head just a bit and kissed Zuko's cheek.
"It wasn't all bad," she said shyly.
"No, a lot of it was good," he agreed and returned her kiss, grazing her lips with his own.
"Let's go," Mai stated briskly.
She put her satchel over her shoulder and grabbed hold of Zuko's hand.
Winter was officially over though the weather still showed no signs of spring. They all wore thick green cloaks, hoods pulled up, along with gloves. Zuko, swords slung proudly across his back, rode alongside Mai. They followed behind Iroh and Jee. Bumi stood at the small side door and waved cheerfully at them, his strange laughter echoing in the quiet streets.
Guards opened the gates and the komodo-rhinos stepped onto the stone roadway. Once on the other side of the yawning valley they turned around and took one last lingering look at Omashu, then proceeded on their way, unsure of what exactly lay ahead.
After a week's steady riding, they approached the village where they had defeated the Rough Rhinos.
"Are we going to stop again?" Mai asked. "The bathhouse there was decent."
"Certainly," Iroh replied. "I would love to speak with some of the townspeople again. They were very pleasant."
"It's so quiet," Jee observed as they left the forest path and rode into the clearing where the small town was located.
They reined in the komodo-rhinos and stopped, looking out at the town, horror on all their faces. There was nothing left but rubble and ash. A Fire Nation banner flapped in an obscenely cheerful motion, like a kite riding the air currents high above the earth. It hung from a broken piece of wood, a ceiling beam perhaps, stabbed into the earth, somewhere in the town's centre.
Mai looked over at Zuko. He met her eyes, a stricken expression on his face. She reached for his hand and he took it, squeezing hard. Sliding off their rhinos, they walked into the town, weapons drawn, though expecting to see no one.
Every building, every business and home had been reduced to charred chunks of wood, blackened piles of ash, bits of bone sticking out here and there, many of the skulls small, far too small for those of adults. The children's bones were often surrounded by those of adults as if the parents, guardians and older siblings had tried desperately to shield them up until the end.
It was a horrific sight, one that neither Mai nor Zuko could quite process. It was one thing seeing the bones of Air Nomads dead one hundred years, but another seeing the skeletons of people who were alive just a few months ago, people they had spoken to, people they had fought for and protected.
"It's my fault," Zuko whispered to Mai as they continued to walk in a sort of daze.
"Stop it, Zuko. You tried to help. We tried to help. How could we know just how disturbed those men are?"
"But, if we'd just left things alone, someone would still be alive."
"You can't know that. And if we'd left things alone, all those young girls would have been raped and who knows what else. They may have decided to kill everyone even if we hadn't stepped in. Zuko, you didn't do anything wrong."
"Our people did this," Zuko said through clenched teeth. He made a sweeping gesture with his arm, taking in the entire town. "Our people; is this really what we've become?"
Iroh and Jee approached from behind them, somber expressions on both their faces.
"There's nothing we can do here," Iroh said quietly. "But maybe, just maybe, we can help stop more of this from happening."
"I should have killed them," Zuko hissed. "Next time, I won't hesitate, not for filth like that."
"Nephew, the people here made their choice to let the Rhinos go. They were good people trying to do the right thing."
"Yeah," Zuko laughed bitterly. "Because doing what you think is right always works out."
He pressed fingers savagely into his scar and then looked around the town again.
"Let's go," he said in a commanding tone.
The prince hopped up onto his komodo-rhino and turned it around, guiding it back to the middle of the blackened mess that used to be a town full of life and vitality. He stood in front of the Fire Nation banner and without hesitation set it ablaze, watching intensely until it was nothing but ash.
A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Please let me know what you think.
Alabaster