Third chapter! Hooray! I'll see if I can get at least five before I get stuck, unlike with my other chapter-fics. Enjoy!
When I return to reality, I realize the episode has ended. I shake my head, smiling, and turn off the television. As I walk up the stairs to my room, I think back to the images that flashed through my mind, so vivid as to seem something akin to memories.
Once in my room, I flop down on the bed and ponder what to do. My thoughts drift back to the dark-haired boy from the show. Again, I hear his screams and pleading voice, wincing. The sounds make me feel sick inside. I feel my anger rising, along with an urge to humor it.
Not even bothering to resist, I rise and punch the wall just hard enough to make my knuckles sore. I seethe, every breath hissing between my clenched teeth. Why couldn't I have been there? I am almost certain that I would have had the courage that I did in the scenario. But that is not how it happened.
I sit down on the floor and close my eyes, ready to see more. . .
A raven-haired girl of twelve years peeks around the doorframe to see the boy, lying on a bed, his head shaved, his face bandaged, asleep.
The girl breathes out what sounds like a sigh of relief and moves to stand in the doorway.
She just stands there, staring at the boy, for several long moments, before her reverie is rudely interrupted by a cold voice behind her, "Checking on your boyfriend, Mai?"
She whips around, surprise showing on her face for a split second. The speaker, another girl, this one with dark brown hair and amber eyes, is the boy's sister. She is accompanied by yet another girl, walking on her hands, giggling at the first's inquiry.
"He's not my boyfriend, Azula," the raven-haired girl replies in a monotone, her face expressionless.
The boy's sister smirks in an unnerving manner before walking past Mai and into the room. She jumps up and lands on the bed, jarring her brother into wakefulness. "Zu-Zu!"
The boy's eye snaps open and he scowls at his sister. "What do you want?"
"Just wondering if you want to know what Dad has planned for you," she answers, a gleam of cruel mischief in her eyes.
"Shut up, Azula. We already did the Agni Kai." He rolls over so his sister won't see his tears. "Go away."
"Don't cry, Zu-Zu," she says in mock concern. Then, in an almost teasing tone, she finishes, "There's more coming." She jumps off the bed, making an unnecessary thud when she lands, then walks out of the room. "Come on, Mai, Ty Lee."
The two other girls follow her down the hall.
Meanwhile, the boy sobs into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound of his anguish. . .
I open my eyes slowly. I wish I could offer him comfort. I wish I could avenge him. I wish I could do something, anything, to help. I want to see him happy. He deserves at least a moment of joy for his trials.
I realize I want to draw something, so I search through several stacks of books to find an old, somewhat battered sketch pad. I grab a pencil from the cup full of them on my desk, open my sketch pad to a blank page, and start scribbling. A dragon's head, an eye, a sword, and the boy's scar.
I hadn't noticed what I was drawing until it was unmistakable. Somewhat hesitantly, I draw the outline of his head around the scar, then draw in his eyes. It looks halfway decent. I stare at it for a long time, thinking. Struck with an idea, I put pencil to paper and start sketching again. . .
The boy stands next to his uncle as Fire Lord Ozai publicly announces his son's banishment.
He stares at the horizon, fighting furiously to hold back tears of rage, to ignore the crowd watching him. He tries to block out his father's voice, speaking of how he had shamed his family by refusing to take part in the Agni Kai, but the harder he tries, the louder the Fire Lord's voice seems to get.
"For this dishonorable exploit, Zuko has been stripped of his title and honor, and is now banished from the Fire Nation. However, if he wishes to restore his honor--" Ozai pauses, glancing over to see his son's reaction. The boy is still staring at the horizon, but now his eye has a glimmer of optimism. The Fire Lord smiles before continuing, "--he must return with the Avatar."
The boy almost collapses, overcome with despair, and he can no longer hold back his tears. Offered hope, only to have it ripped away a moment later.
His father has assigned the impossible. The Avatar had not been seen for almost a century.
As if sensing the boy's desolation, his uncle places a steadying hand on his shoulder. Immediately, the boy straightens and resumes gazing into the distance, though his tears still flow freely.
"Now, he will not be alone, for another has earned banishment. I did not give permission to anyone to tend to Zuko's wound, but someone decided that the Fire Lord's consent was not needed."
The boy places a hand on his bandage, silently apologizing to whichever healer had helped him.
"For going against the command of the Fire Lord, Iroh is hereby banished."
The boy's eye widens in shock and he turns to face the one who treated his wounds.
Iroh, his uncle, gives a small smile of encouragement.
"You will be given a ship. A crew has already volunteered to serve under the esteemed Dragon of the West," Ozai sneers at his brother.
"And I am very thankful for it," Iroh retorts.
The boy smiles slightly, glad that he will have some company during his exile. "Thanks, Uncle," he mutters to the man beside him.