Trial by Fire

Chapter 6: A Tale of Two Uncles, Part 2

Another two days passed, each much the same as the ones before. Mai spent time in her room resting and reading a bit and talking with her Uncle Katashi. He took her outside to the gardens each morning, giving his sister a stern look that the woman recognized all too well from her childhood. Mai showed off her small collection of blades and demonstrated her throwing for Katashi.

"I'm impressed, Mai," he encouraged her. "Perhaps you have a future with those knives."

"Like what?" she snapped.

"Well," the gruff man mused. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and thought. He needed to come up with some sort of answer now. "What about being a guard or a member of an elite fighting troupe, something like the Yu Yan Archers? If you hone that skill and perhaps get some actual training, you could very well go far."

"Who would train me?" Mai asked, a little bit interested despite herself.

"That I would have to look into for you; but it is a possibility. Come on now, Mai. It's time for lunch and the physician will be here to see you after that. We'd best get inside." He put an arm around her slight shoulders and guided her toward the back door of the house.

Sighing, Mai tucked her blades away. She didn't have the energy to argue.

Mai kept her eyes closed as the royal physician carefully removed the bandages and examined her burn. He was silent as he peered closely at the damaged area of her face, occasionally probing a bit with one freshly washed hand. "It's healing quite nicely," he finally remarked. Dipping his index finger into the pot of unguent made especially for burns, he spread it carefully, then redressed the wound. "You didn't flinch once!" he exclaimed.

Mai's pain had gradually lessoned and the royal physician had appropriately decreased the dose of herbs in her tea. She nodded and gave the kind man a small smile. "It's not nearly as painful as it was. It does itch sometimes, though."

"Soon you won't need herbal painkiller at all," he said kindly and patted her hand. "And if the itching gets very uncomfortable, I have a cream for that too. But it's a good sign. Itching equals healing." He sat back in the chair and observed the quiet girl. "You've been a good patient, Mai, better and braver than most I've treated for less. In fact, if you can keep a secret, I'll tell you a little story about the Fire Lord."

Her curiosity instantly piqued, Mai sat up straighter and stared at the man. "Can you do that, Mr. Miyaki?" she asked.

"Who is going to stop me?" he winked. "I know that I can trust you to keep the little anecdote to yourself. And there's no one else here." He picked up a pillow and peeked underneath, then looked under Mai's bed. "Nope, I think that we're alone."

Mai rolled her eyes at the healer's actions, but let a giggle slip too. Sometimes, her inner little girl came out despite herself. "We're safe. You can tell me."

"All right; if you're sure." Miyaki rubbed his hands together as if in anticipation. "Prince Ozai, as he was called then, was older than you are now, probably twelve, and had been sparring with one of his classmates at the Royal Academy for Boys."

Mai leaned in closer to the physician, her gold eyes sparkling with life that had been absent for the past few days.

"He came running into my office, hiding his hand inside the sleeve of his robe and clutching the injured appendage close to his chest. Tears streamed down his face and he begged me not to tell his father, Fire Lord Azulon, that he had made a mistake when sparring. I expected to see a blistered, red mess on his hand when I finally coaxed him to let me see it."

"What did you see?" the girl asked.

"He had a bit of a cut on the palm of his hand, a tiny thing really. Prince Ozai had stopped a fall with said hand and managed to hit a stone. All it required was some cleaning and ointment. He moaned and groaned and twisted about as though I were chopping the hand off." Mai's eyes widened and she let out a throaty chuckle. Ozai was so intimidating now, so cruel and heartless. It was strange to think of him as a whiny brat. "Stupid boy!" Miyaki exclaimed. "He could learn a thing or two from you kids, you and Zuko that is. Now, don't breathe a word of that to anyone. He was a stupid boy but he's the Fire Lord now and he has the power to do terrible things."

She gulped a bit then. Miyaki shook his head and thought about Mai's burn, how Azula was going completely unpunished for mutilating a beautiful child. He didn't know what to do or whether he could do anything. Part of him wanted to leave the service of the royal family, retire perhaps, move to the country with his wife. But another part of him hoped to be around when things finally did change, when the pointless war was finally over and when Zuko took the throne. Everything would be different then. He was positive. "Should I live that long," he said under his breath and then envisaged delivering the next generation of royals. That would be something.

"Mr. Miyaki?" Mai's voice was tremulous now, full of fear and misgiving.

"Yes, child; what is it?" He put a hand over hers and gave it a firm squeeze. "Go on. You can ask me whatever you like."

"When do the bandages come off?" It was a terrifying thought. Mai could hide behind the soft white cloth and pretend that underneath her face was healing completely and would be whole once again. She could pretend that this wound was a temporary thing and that soon everything would be back to normal. But what was normal anyway and did she really want it? She blinked then and looked the physician in the eye. She wanted to be brave again.

"Well, dear, I estimate another week or so. You are healing remarkably well." He gazed at the girl, gauging her reaction. "You'll need to be strong, Mai. I know that you can be."

Mai nodded. "Azula didn't give me much of a choice."

A harried Kaori opened the front door to her home, shy four year old Mimi hanging onto to her robes.

"Yes," she said to the royal messenger who stood rigidly on the landing. Mimi moved behind Kaori, hiding herself completely from sight.

"Message from the royal princess, my lady." He handed a tiny scroll over and then, duty done, turned on his heel and walked briskly down the front steps.

"You can come out now, Mimi. He's gone." She gave the girl's head a quick rub and bestowed a bright smile on her before unrolling the paper and scanning the characters. Mimi let go of her mother's robes, and reached for a tiny doll that sat in her pocket. "It's a message for Ty Lee," Kaori muttered. "Princess Azula wants her to come over. She's not going to like that. Come along, Mimi. Let's go tell your sister the news."

"K, Mommy," the little girl agreed, reaching for Kaori's hand, unaware of the drama that was going on around her.

They walked up the staircase to the second floor, Kaori calling Ty Lee's name.

"What is it, Mom?" The girl bounced out into the hallway, long brown braid bobbing along with her. She spotted the scroll in her mother's hands and recognized the seal. "Azula?" she asked already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. She requests your presence tomorrow immediately after lunch. I don't like the thoughts of you going back over there, Ty. That girl is obviously dangerous. What if she gets angry at you?" Kaori was frowning now and heaved a big sigh. "I don't like it at all. Perhaps I can come up with a suitable excuse. What do you think?"

"I have to go, Mom. I'll be all right. I won't make her angry. I promise." The acrobat did not look happy about the impending visit, though. She was scared, in fact, and incredibly angry at the princess. Ty Lee hoped that she could keep both those emotions in check. Again she wished that she were more like Mai.

"I know that you're right, Ty Lee. But I don't have to be pleased with the whole thing, do I? To think your father and I were so happy when the princess first asked you over a few years ago. We thought it would help with connections and your future. That doesn't seem so important anymore." Kaori inclined her head and observed her daughter, so cheerful and sweet, not a smidgeon of cynicism in her. She wished that she could keep Ty Lee from all the misery that the world held. She wished that she could keep all of her girls from getting hurt. But that was a mother's wistful dream, not reality.

Mimi approached her older sister, leaving the safety of her mother's side, held the doll out and lisped, "Wanna play?"

Ty Lee hesitated for just a moment and then saw the stern look on her mother's face. "Fine, Mimi, come on in. I'll get my old dolls out."

Kaori watched as her ten year old dug through the old toy chest, still sitting proudly at the end of her bed. The girl exclaimed loudly when her hands found a ragged looking doll. "See you at dinner," the woman smiled. But the joy on her face faded quickly as she thought of her daughter and Princess Azula. "Agni help that girl if she hurts Ty Lee. Princess or no princess…."

Zuko held his knife in his hands, the one that his Uncle Iroh had sent home from the Earth Kingdom especially for him. It was one of his most prized possessions, behind only the portrait of his mother that he kept safely tucked away at the back of his wardrobe. The prince read the description over and over again. 'Never Give Up' it said; three simple words that when strung together said so much more. Zuko had wanted to give up when his mother vanished. He almost did. Only Mai and his own stubborn refusal to just lie down saved him. But that blade with its inscription had inspired too. Maybe it was time to pass it on to someone who needed it more.

Leaning back against the apple tree, the twelve year old prince let his eyes drift closed and replayed the events of a few days ago in his mind. The anger and guilt he felt were still fresh and painful, a throbbing emotional wound that he would carry around for a long time. "If only, if only…" he repeated quietly too himself. He felt useless and stupid and everything else that his sister had ever called him.

"What is wrong with you, Azula? Why did you have to hurt Mai?"

Zuko scrunched his gold eyes up tightly to stop the tears that had been irritatingly persistent ever since the incident. It wasn't fair. Nothing much seemed fair or right anymore. Azula deserved so much more than some ink stains. He clenched his hand around the knife handle and imagined slicing the soft flesh of his sister's cheek, deep and long, deep enough to leave a scar. Maybe that would make things fair and right. But he couldn't do it. Zuko didn't have it in him; the coldness, the violence, the cruelty. He was different from his family, different from all of them save Iroh and his mother.

"Nephew; are you all right?" Iroh placed his strong hand on Zuko's shoulder and gave the boy a little shake. "Are you sleeping?"

The warmth and concern in his uncle's voice stirred him and the love in kind, amber eyes gave him hope again. "No, no, Uncle. I was thinking." Zuko put his knife back in its sheath and scrubbed at his face, careful to wipe the moisture from his eyes. He smiled then, grateful to finally see his uncle after such a long time. "I'm glad you're here."

"Of course I'm here. You need me right now and I have a few choice words for your sister and your father" A flash of anger sparked in the former general's eyes. "Were you thinking about Mai?" the man asked gently. He looked searchingly at the boy. Zuko was easy to read, always had been. He couldn't lie, couldn't plot. Everything he felt was right there on his face for anyone and everyone to see.

The prince nodded. "Would you be angry, Uncle, if I gave Mai my knife, the one that belonged to the Earth Kingdom general? I think she needs it more than I do." His voice was shaky now and full of emotion.

"No," Iroh replied, pulling his nephew into a hug. "I think that's a very kind gesture and I'm proud of you for thinking of it."

"She likes knives, you know," Zuko snuffled against the broad chest.

"Yes, you've told me. Mai sounds like an interesting young lady. I haven't seen her in a long time. I'll bet she's grown as much as you have." Iroh pulled back and looked at Zuko, really looked at him, noticing the extra height, the maturation of the face, the seriousness in the gold eyes. Suddenly, he ached for his own son, Lu Ten, dead two years now. His grief flared bright and hot and he almost collapsed under the weight of it.

"Uncle?" Zuko cried, sensing a change in the man. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Zuko. Looking at you made me think of Lu Ten when he was your age." Iroh took a deep, cleansing breath and then smiled once more. "Grief hits sometimes, nephew, when you least expect it."

"I know," the boy agreed and he did. Thoughts or memories of his mother would pop up unexpectedly and send him spiraling into despair and sorrow. Then he might not think of her for days.

"Yes, you do know and how I wish that you didn't." He was full of longing now, longing for the people lost forever and longing for those who might still be saved. "I'm going to pay your father and sister a little visit now. Maybe it's best if you stay out here, Zuko. I expect things will get ugly."

"I'm glad you're here, Uncle," the prince declared again. He took out his knife once more and watched as Iroh walked toward the palace, satchel slung casually over his shoulder.

Ozai sat in his throne room, massive wall of bright orange flames surrounding him. A council meeting had just concluded and the Fire Lord was still coming down from the little high he always felt during those meetings. The war council, the smartest, most accomplished military minds in the entire country all kowtowed to him. Of course, that was as it should be, but the rightness of it did not dissuade from Ozai's sheer enjoyment.

He relaxed a little in his throne but stiffened just a few minutes later. Someone was in the throne room with him now. Narrowing his eyes, Ozai stood up and then assumed a bending stance. When the flames suddenly disappeared, he saw his older brother, Iroh.

"Huh, you have a lot of nerve, brother, entering my domain and putting out my fire." He paused and with the tiniest motion of his hand, remade the wall of fire. "So, finally finished your sniveling and weeping over Lu Ten? What's it been now, two years?" Ozai sneered and looked down at his brother, his added height making the gesture that much more powerful.

"Until you love, Ozai, you cannot understand grief. I pity you. And I pity your daughter for being so much like you."

"Ah," Ozai smirked, stroking his beard, "so this little unexpected visit is about Azula, is it? I suppose my pathetic excuse for a son wrote you about the incident with that girl. And you, the kind uncle full of nauseating philosophy that always seems to revolve around tea, came running: very heartwarming, brother. I'm sure Zuko will be happy to see you. Speaking of tea, you must be craving some. Shall I ring for a servant?"

"I share tea with those I care about and respect, Ozai. It pains me to say that neither of those requirements applies to you. I shall have tea later with my nephew. I do want to express my anger at what you have allowed Azula to become."

"Oh, save it for someone who cares," the Fire Lord drawled. "Your moralizing does not interest me."

Iroh straightened up to his full height, thrust his chest out and roared. "You WILL listen to me. Sit down." Ozai grumbled but he sat. His brother might be a mild mannered tea lover, but he still had the heart of a general and was a force to be reckoned with. "Do you realize what Azula did?"

"Yes, yes," Ozai replied, waving his hand dismissively. "She burned the girl. What of it? Azula said she was provoked and I have no reason not to believe her."

"The girl has a name; Mai." Indignation sparked in amber eyes now. "She's not a thing. She's a human being and your daughter, my niece, destroyed one half of her face. What possible provocation could there be for that, hmmm? Do you realize the pain and struggle Mai will endure now because Azula was jealous?"

Ozai's eyes widened but he said nothing.

"That's what it amounted to. Azula had a fit of jealousy because Mai and Zuko were enjoying some time together. To punish Mai, she burned her face. That's more than a little extreme, that's insane and I shudder to think what else Azula is capable of. What are you going to do about it?" Iroh's face was red with anger and his hands were clenched. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself.

"Do?" Ozai laughed. "I'm not going to do anything. Mai's got our physician looking after her and Azula is coming along nicely. She will be the perfect heir, and an excellent military strategist. Now, I suggest you stop your meddling and get out of my throne room."

"Oh, this isn't over, brother. Zuko is the rightful heir and the only humane choice. I will see to it that he takes the throne one day, sooner than you might expect."

He began to move out of the room, but Ozai leapt off the throne, caught up with Iroh and grabbed hold of the older man's arm. "Did you just threaten regicide, Iroh? I'm certain that's what I heard. Better watch your step!" He gave the man a bit of a push.

Iroh maintained his dignity and left without another word. Once out in the corridor, he let out a breath that he had been holding. "Now for Azula."

The princess lay on her bed with an intimidating book about the art of warfare cradled in her arms. She was deeply engrossed and her amber eyes scanned the pages avidly, taking in every word and every diagram. Usually very alert and aware of her surroundings, she did not hear her Uncle Iroh knock on the open door and then enter.

Iroh's eyes widened with surprise and his lips twitched uncontrollably when he set eyes on the ten year old. "So, niece, what happened to your face?"

Azula dropped the book down onto the bed, sat up straight and glared at her uncle. "Don't you knock?"

"As a matter of fact I did. But you were pretty deeply involved with your book." He picked up the volume and scanned the title. "Not surprising," he muttered. "I asked you a question. What happened to your face? Is that ink?"

"You'd better not be laughing Uncle. Zuko did it. He threw a pot of ink at my head. I'll get him back one day. I hate him." She stuck out her jaw and crossed little arms across her little chest.

"Hmmm," the former general mused. "Seems that you've been doing a lot worse than throwing ink; you have nothing to complain about, Azula. And it's Mai who should be feeling vengeful, not you."

The princess rolled her eyes. "Geez, is everyone still going on about Mai. It's just a burn you know. What's the big deal?"

Iroh dragged the girl off the bed, put firm hands on her shoulders and shook. "What is wrong with you?" he shouted. Azula's teeth clattered together in her mouth and her brown ponytail bounced up and down. She tried her level best to get out of her uncle's iron grip. All she could manage was a bit of a wiggle though and she was growing furious. Her hands began to glow with the beginnings of fire. Iroh felt the heat and let go. "Is that how you deal with all your feelings; you burn something or someone? Azula, for Agni's sake, don't you know any better?"

"Don't you ever touch me again," she hissed in reply. "I'm the princess of the Fire Nation and I do what I want to who I want. I'm better than Mai. She doesn't count. So her stupid burn on her stupid face doesn't count either. Now, get out of my room before I call Daddy."

"I'll be living here in the palace now, Azula. And I will be watching you very closely. You will not hurt anyone again, not while I'm here." Iroh left, going back to the garden to seek out Zuko.

"Maybe I should make sure you're not here for long then," Azula said to herself. The thought made her happy and she began to smile.