Chapter 2
Until recently, nobody had feared visiting the royal kitchens.
Home exclusively to common-born cooks and servants it was a rare, if loud, retreat from the nobles of the court. It was loud no longer.
As the agent entered the hall he could not help but notice how abandoned everything looked. Because of the smoke produced when cooking, the kitchens had not been built in the basement, like the other servant quarters.
Shafts of light illuminated empty workstations, knives gleaming in the evening sun. Only the ovens bustled with activity, though he noticed that none of the servants were speaking or stoking the flames with bending.
Nonetheless, the great iron doors glowed red, with firewood greedily consumed the moment it was thrown in.
As he approached, the heat became increasingly unbearable. They aren't baking bread alright, the agent thought warily.
"Is it safe to report my presence?" the spy whispered to a nearby servant.
The woman merely shot him an unimpressed look, before speaking in a normal volume: "An hour ago she had us shoot arrows in at random intervals, I doubt whatever news you shifty types bring will be more distracting. Just tell us first if we need to evacuate. Giving us paid leave is cheaper than hiring new staff after, 'silencing' us."
Chuckling, the agent drew a letter from his bag. "Isn't it great then, that neither is required? Please open the doors for a moment, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work."
The cook bowed, though the fine ears of the operatives picked up her mumbling anyway,: "My work is cooking, not shuffling firewood all day."
As the heavy iron doors slid open, a jet of blue flame greeted them. Not one of the servants flinched, already used to the spectacle A moment later the fire retreated back into the oven's inferno, forming an unnaturally even wall of flame that didn't allow even a single ember to escape into the kitchen.
"Your Highness, I bring news!" the agent screamed out, covering his eyes as he neared the ominous miracle. A pale hand exited the blaze, wordlessly grabbing the offered letter. The paper did not burn as it was pulled inside.
The veteran operative almost believed to see a smile on the face of the woman within, as she read:
FOR THE EYES OF THE FIRE LORD ALONE
DECRYPTED
Reporting: Shadow Pillar Suiji
General Tan Ya successfully captured Gao Ling, with her army not suffering any of the projected casualties as the city surrendered peacefully following an ultimatum . Upon entering the town, the General was greeted by a Beifong delegation. This slave [1] was unable to hear what was spoken, but after a short conversation, she travelled to the Beifong estate, where she met Lord Beifong and his family alone.
Unusual activity was reported the following day by our agents embedded in the Beifong merchant empire. Large flows of capital were detected, with new land rights being acquired. All agents agree that this is the prelude to setting up new factories. The amount of land acquired is judged as enough for at least three hundred, possibly three hundred and forty.
Considering the Beifong's long history as arms manufacturers, this slave believes the General now has totally solved her supply issues, and will even be able to outfit new forces. As the Beifongs supplied the armies in the Central Earth Kingdom, this slave suggests that her force could potentially even quintuple.
Furthermore, this slave begs for clemency, as no opportunity for assassination has emerged. Currently, any action taken will also result in the loss of this slave, although the espionage officers do not yet seem suspicious. It is possible that the loss of two other agents has calmed the special unit. Regardless, both their networks are now assumed compromised.
For the Glory of Fire Lord Ozai!
"Almost perfect."
…
[Reconstructed from the remains of a burned report]
Special Unit Intelligence Report
DECRYPTED
Type: 5b22
Reporting: Lieutenant Iuka
Another mole has been exposed, this time amongst our tank crews. Upon capture, she was prevented from taking her own life, and as such was subjected to the appropriate punishment for her betrayal.
No new information was gleaned from the subject, as she only started talking by the time we had reached her stomach. Therefore, she expired before anything new was shared. We did manage to confirm that she was a 'shadow pillar' raised by the Black Pavilion [2]and an agent of Ozai that regularly shared information about the General.
Additionally, I am happy to report that heating the knives prevented the traitor from expiring due to blood loss, allowing each member of her squadron to take their pound of flesh. As such I would recommend making this new innovation standard practice, since it also lengthened her punishment by fifteen hours. Additionally, our physicians assured me that if each soldier cut fifty percent less meat, it might be possible to keep our rats alive for longer than three days. In conclusion, Lingchi (death by a thousand cuts) remains a viable alternative to the Ash Room[3] while in transit. May we not suffer traitors delay their righteous punishment!
In accordance with standard practice, this shame shall be forever hidden.
For the Lightning General! For Tan Ya! Our Saviour, our Liberator!
…
POV Tanya
...
3rd Southwestern Naval Base:
"What a shame, it seems like the satchel is empty," bemoaned Iroh, though the pain in his face seemed put on compared to what he had shown when reminded of his son.
"Indeed, it has. A good thing then that I have been gifted a few more." I had not, but I was certain that my Acquisitions Department would be able to provide me with something. Recruited from former robbers and bandits; they tended to have a knack for digging up precious items.
Not that I encouraged looting, since it would turn the locals against us like nothing else.
But I still needed supplies, and luckily Governor Estates tended to have massive grain stores besides being viable military and propaganda targets.[4]
Raiding these mansions also raised a lot of capital, which I mostly spent buying supplies for my army from local merchants, much like the Roman legions did when fighting a civil war in Italy proper. Thanks to my carefully cultivated reputation the locals knew that trading with me was always safe.
The majority of the money came from our most precious loot like artwork, jewelry and furniture to customers on the Home Islands.
In fact, most of my contracts with industrialists came from selling such items. As nouveau riche, they did not possess as many masterworks as the aristocratic clans, and often also lacked under-the-table connections to famous domestic artisans. In order to gain more 'history' they were willing to pay through the nose for storied earth kingdom artworks. It helped that most of these items were decorated far more lavishly than those of the fire nation, as we did not have a large chunk of our population being able to magically mine for gems.
Honestly, the whole affair reminded me of the Venetians carrying off the Hippodrome's bronze horses for St. Mark's Cathedral, only with me being both the looting merchant and the pillaging conqueror. Like the Crusaders I sacked any temple or mansion I could, as it was essential to my survival. Nevertheless, I was still disgusted with myself whenever I thought about it.
These artworks could have been bought peacefully, a simple trade between the legal owners and new trading partners in the Fire Nation. Instead, I had taken their rightful property and exterminated their family to the last babe.
Well, I hadn't actually killed the toddlers, as they could still be sent anonymously to far away orphanages. Any noble child that was old enough to remember their families glory as local kings however? I burned them with the rest of their clans. Machiavelli had advised total extermination of a new territories old royalty and personal experience had taught me just how right he was.
Nowadays, I always thoroughly removed all traces of the ruling clan, not only robbing their mansions but also salting their ancestral fields, destroying their ancestor's shrines, renaming their possessions, and even forbidding burial. There would be no graves for rebels to visit in pilgrimage, my enemies ashes mixed with manure and resold as fertilizer.[5] Of course, these profits didn't make up for now lost, lifetime-long economic contribution the thousands of dead could have provided.
"Oh?" smiled Iroh "Say, would you care to share some of them with a friend?"
Iroh's question took me out of my dark brooding, and I quickly responded: "For a friend? Certainly. And like the good friend you are, you will then surely share your excellent brew with me."
After the tense conversation at the start, I learned that Iroh treated his friends very casually, ignoring any differences in status. As my senior and indirect superior, it would be impolite not to follow his wishes, at least in private. It was actually riskier for me to alienate the aged General by insisting on etiquette than it was to treat him casually, at least if I thought it through logically.
At the moment, he seemed placated thanks to the honour I had given his son. As such as long as I held the position that peace was desirable, but only achievable by following Ozai's pointless goal of conquering the entire world, I believed myself safe from Iroh, who had yet to offer me any antidote or order me imprisoned.
As such, he was probably loyal to his brother, though he did not seem to share his worldview. He was sane, in other words. Then again, just because he was not constantly talking about power didn't mean he wasn't similarly obsessed. Who knew what a man born in the royal court was thinking? His expressions may be a simple misdirection.
"I'd be happy to." He placed down his empty cup while considering the crowded board. We had been playing for close to two hours, which I took as a sign that Iroh enjoyed the conversation with me and dragged out the game. He was truly an expert. I hadn't even noticed any of the bad moves he must have made in order for a relative beginner like me to last this long.
As someone who had competed in chess during high school, I knew just how impressive that was. To lose, without your opponent noticing you did so on purpose, not by playing badly, but by carefully guiding the game on a predetermined path, was the sign of a true master!
Not that Iroh had lost. He would still win thanks to the greater number of pieces he had captured, but it would be a close thing. Not how a duel between a hobbyist who only played with her friend and a famous master should go.
Well, no use in complaining about his kindness. Placing down my own piece in a way that would lengthen the game by three moves, I made conversation: "Returning to our earlier topic, do you have any other suggestions?"
"Have you considered offering healing to locals? Even if you recruit dozens of water benders, sending them out on patrol would be a waste," considered the Dragon of the West.
True enough. For much the same reason patrols normally just included one or two fire benders. Well normally. My army's circumstances forced me to adapt standard procedure quite a bit. I had not gotten any fire bender replacements until recently, after all.
"Why not do both? I will be organizing them into mixed units with the other benders anyway, so they can cover each other's weaknesses regardless of whom they face. On patrol, the water benders can heal the locals and gather information, while their comrades protect them," I suggested, drawing a smile from the General: "I assume they will be closely cooperating with each other?"
Oh, he must have already guessed my strategy!
Nodding, I explained: "By combining all styles of bending in a single unit they will be able to adapt to anything. No matter the terrain, they can raise fortifications, be it on the ocean or on land. The fire benders will also grant them greater destructive force than the ones from the other nations," I boasted.
"This will be… Every army in the world will be hard-pressed to fight such a force." Iroh seemed impressed, almost shocked really. This networking event had been turning out great!
The very moment that thought crossed my mind, our little strategy meeting was interrupted. A sailor rushed through the foyers doors, a panicked expression on his face. He attempted to say something, but he was so out of breath that it was incomprehensible.
Iroh merely motioned for the messenger to gather himself, while I paid rapid attention to the proceedings. The red-clad soldier obviously wasn't one of mine, but for a mere NCO to interrupt our meeting the news must be incredibly urgent.
The soldier did not disappoint: "Generals, forgive my impertinence. Prince Zuko has challenged Commander Zhao to an Agni Kai!"
A brief flash of fear crossed Iroh's face, before the Dragon of the West composed himself. Turning to me, he gave me a perfect goodbye salute obviously intending to rush to the side of his disappointing nephew.
Really, what could have caused the Pansy to challenge a navy commander? Did he want to turn both the army and navy against him?
Regardless, I needed to make the best of such a bad situation: "Not so fast, my friend. The water benders amongst my guard can heal most minor burns. Please let me accompany you."
Iroh only nodded, before falling into a run. Despite my longer legs, I had trouble keeping up with the fifty-year-old as we rushed to the docks. His breathing was not even laboured by the time we reached the arena, while Specialist Suomi straight up fell to her knees. As a new recruit, she did not yet have the stamina forced marches tended to instil.
Luckily she would have quite a bit of time to rest. It turned out that the Agni Kai would be held at sundown, which still gave Iroh a few incense sticks worth of time to berate his nephew.
The Exiled Prince was quite a sight to see. Unlike Azula, who even as an eight-year-old had displayed poise and precision in her every move, Zuko barely concealed his anger. He instead seemed fearful, in a way. Like a veteran huddling in a trench, knowing that no reinforcements were coming, his position already consigned lost.
Truly pathetic.
The prince might be exiled from the mainland, but his gold and jade album was unbroken[6]. In other words, he was still royalty with all the privileges that brought. He could have lived peacefully in the colonies, 'searching' for the Avatar in wine sinks and brothels. What cause had he to be troubled?
"Uncle! Where have you been?!" Zuko demanded, and I was taken aback by the sheer disrespect shown. How could a royal not greet his fire bending master with a salute?
"Enjoying some excellent tea." Closing the distance between them, Iroh's voice grew increasingly harsh though none of the nearby torches flared: "What possessed you to demand an Agni Kai? Have you forgotten what happened the last time you fought a master?"
Instead of being rightfully chastised, the teenager only grew angrier: "I had no choice! Why did you leave me to deal with Zhao alone?"
"I apologize." Iroh seemed genuinely regretful: "I did not believe the great Commander Zhao to be so discourteous as to ignore General Tan Ya's face."
I was very glad that Iroh pointed out the insult. Despite having little difficulty in memorizing etiquette by roote the complex social customs of the third culture I had to act out on a native level often meant I overlooked things. In court I could rely on Azula's aid, but it seemed without it a mere navy commander felt they could take me for a fool.
Zhao was already honoured when he greeted Iroh's ship with me. After I had invited my colleague to tea, he should have started organizing the badly needed repairs with the help of Prince Zuko, the captain. Instead, he had somehow managed to deliver a large enough insult for an Agni Kai to be demanded, while I had been entertaining Iroh.
Without the aged General pointing it out I would not have seen how Zhao's actions affected my standing. This workplace really had far too much office politics. Or was it regular politics considering we were all technically martial officials[7]?
"Commander Zhao!" I called out, happy that my shortness of breath was not noticeable in my icy tone.
"General," he responded lazily, giving me what barely passed as a salute. I waited for a moment for him to explain himself on his own, only for him to turn to Iroh.
"And the other General too, I suppose." Sneering, he drew himself to his full height, which landed him squarely between me and Iroh in size. "How you can dare to call yourself such, even after your failure at Ba Sing See remains a wonder to behold."
I had already been short of breath, and Zhao's sentence took the remaining air out of my lungs. Was he insane? I took a few steadying breaths until I finally managed to get over my shock at the sheer brashness. Then I came to a very simple conclusion: the person in front of me was suicidal.
It wasn't that unexpected. The trauma of war broke many men, even incredibly healthy individuals. Added to that, I had heard that Commander Zhao's teacher was The Deserter Jeong Jeong, and it was no wonder a noble like Zhao sought out an honorable death by challenging benders totally out of his league. An insult like the one he just gave surely demanded an Agni Kai.
Even if he survived the fight against Zuko, another royal fire bender, the Dragon of the West, would await him afterwards. He was a dead man walking.
Well, time for me to benefit from his death. I had gotten quite good at squeezing the most value out of lives.
"How the student of a traitor could be promoted to commander remains another," I snidely remarked.
The torches around us flared, though no one aside from Zhao's guards flinched. Mine were too well trained to be intimidated by what amounted to a child uncontrollably banging his fists against the table to get attention. Iroh and Zuko had not bothered to bring any, no doubt capable of slaughtering the entire plaza on their own without breaking a sweat.
His anger still visible on his face, Zhao gritted out, "I was the one who reported the Admiral's treason!"
"Ex-admiral," I corrected, while my guards began taking positions around the arena. "It almost seems like you still harbour foreign loyalties."
"You employ earth benders! What right do you have to talk about loyalty, you sancti-", before Zhao could finish his outburst and deliver an undoubtedly colourful insult to my person, his entire body was encased in stone. A split second before the sarcophagus closed around the commander I noted that the inside was filled with mud.
I would have to talk to Lieutenant Iuka. Saving me from having to risk an Agni Kai to protect my honour was praiseworthy, no matter the method or circumstances. On the other hand, covering Zhao from head to toe in mud would just lead to the creation of unnecessary hostilities.
She should have just bent the mud directly into his windpipe, without dirtying his appearance.
In my first life, the saying went that you may kill a scholar, but never humiliate them.[8] The honour obsessed culture of my new homeland had given rise to much the same attitude.
Ah, no matter. Zhao would die to Zuko soon enough anyway. The exiled Prince still seemed absolutely ready to murder the Commander, though he also sent me the occasional look of confusion. Not the brightest candle, was he?
Well regardless, Iroh at least seemed to appreciate my support, sending me a small smile as Zhao's vision was obscured.
Mentally, I counted to five before speaking: "Lieutenant Iuka, release him."
My command was obeyed instantly, maybe a little bit too quickly. Zhao lost his balance when the walls around him disappeared, falling to the baked earth in an avalanche of mud. Wiggling on the ground he reminded me of the occasional hog-worm[9] our earth benders dug out during monsoon season.
Before he managed to spit out all the mud and demand a duel, I ordered: "Lieutenant Iuka, you will be reporting to the quartermaster for fifteen lashes, for disrespecting a superior."
The guardswoman only saluted perfectly before immediately rushing off, and I did not bother to turn my head to check after her. She would be reporting, as sure as the dawn.
Commander Zhao seemed still seemed dissatisfied, but I interrupted any further outburst with a simple sentence: "If the commander still feels insulted, I permit Lieutenant Iuka to be challenged to an Agni Kai."
Unsurprisingly, it turned out that the practice of honour duels was not particularly conducive to disciple. Who knew? Most certainly not the British, French, American, Prussian, and Russian armies who all cracked down on them.
Unlike these countries, the fire nation had been unwilling to abandon their ceremonial blood sports, and so merely outlawed it while on active campaign unless the commanding officer gave their permission. Not that most did, as even if the duel ended with just a tiny burn it could be deadly when it grew infected behind enemy lines.
However I did not need to worry about losing Iuka to an Agni Kai. What danger did your enemy pose when they were buried beneath a volcano?
"You dare!" Zhao yelled again, proving once and for all that he would have never made it amongst my scouts. The man was louder than some death screams I've heard!
"Lieutenant Iuka is a capable lava bender and should have no problem inflicting a burn," I said, remembering that such barbarity was the only way to end an Agni Kai.
Zhao's face grew only redder, or maybe it was just the fact he had wiped the sludge from it.
"Regardless, you already have a duel waiting for you. Whom would I be, to keep you from your defeat?"
A bit direct and excessive maybe, but Zuko seemed like the kind of Prince that needed to have things spelled out for him. Iroh on the other hand had already caught on and was giving Zhao a truly insufferable smile while having a knowing look in his eyes.
The commander's anger was palatable, radiating from him like heat of an inferno. Sneering, he spoke: "It seems the reports of your tactical acumen are greatly exaggerated General Tan Ya. As if I could lose to such a coward."
Feeling no particular desire to defend said coward beyond what was necessary to ingratiate myself with the Dragon, I remained silent. The other hothead took this chance. "We shall see about it when we fight!"
"Will we? I doubt that," Zhao responded in a level tone, seemingly having brought his anger under control thanks to the break provided by Zuko's pathetic taunting. Dammit! The Exiled Pansy really could do nothing right.
Ignoring the suicidal naval officer General Iroh walked in front of his nephew, breaking the pair's view of each other. "Prince Zuko, remember your fire-bending basics. They are your greatest weapons."
Deciding to take the offered setup, I added: "Against Zhao, nothing else will be necessary. He is overly aggressive when fighting, and his shame makes him unstable."
"Not only mentally," added Specialist Hou. While it was technically against protocol for him to speak up in a conversation between Generals and a Prince, but I knew better than to discard his advice.
"Your analysis?" I asked.
Smiling, despite his serious tone, he explained: "Lieutenant Iuka's mud cocoon gave me a good look at his vitals. His roote is as shit as his beard. Should he loose his footing, there is no way he will regain it."
"Ah, you must be one of the Foggy Swamp Water benders," stated Iroh to the benefit of his nephew. Holding his stomach in the shared gesture of all kindly old men, which somehow did not look out of character on the conqueror, he asked: "I do hope you only have something against pure sideburns. I consider my beard quite striking."
"It does indeed stick out," deadpanned the healer before adopting the same pose as Iroh, drawing laughter from the General. A moment later Hou joined in, and soon the two old men were chuckling like schoolgirls.
Well, I was glad I would not have to send another subordinate to the field hospital because of injured pride. Fifteen strikes could be life threatening without immediate treatment. Turning to Zuko, I reassured him: "Prince Zuko, you will not need to hold back against Zhao. Specialist Hou here can heal most injuries." Including yours, I hoped to convey without insulting his honor.
"That will be unnecessary," responded Iroh for his nephew. "Unlike commander Zhao, my nephew has control," he loudly said, causing the torches to once again flash brightly.
Calling across the plaza, Zuko taunted: "You seem impatient Zhao. Do you want to start early?"
The commander dropped his ceremonial towel in response, revealing his bare chest. I was jealous.
He lacked any kind of scar. What an easy life I could have had in the navy!
We cleared the field, and once the Exiled Pansy was in position he also dropped his cloth without hesitation. It was not he who struck first. Iroh and my taunting had had some effect, as Zhao started off the fight with a large gust of flame.
"Bender Kazu and Jin, look at Zhao's form. It is the perfect example of what not to do against a competent opponent of any sort. You are just blinding yourself that way."
Jin snorted at that, wondering aloud: "Shouldn't an officer know that already? This can't be the first Agni Kai commander Zhao got himself into."
"The Mainland puts too much focus on aggression," responded Kazu, leaning on his comrade and whispering: "It helped that General Iroh and Tan Ya provoked him first. His form is really not conducive to keeping his cool."
"Ugh. It seems a lot more powerful than what I can throw around though," complained Jin back, and I decided to return to the conversation to stop this foolishness in its tracks.
"You of all people should know that size is not what matters," I joked, drawing a flush from Jin. The young man had quickly gotten famous for being easy to tease.
"Ma'am, I must express my doubt that you have knowledge of his instruments," called out Kazu, coming to his fellow recruit' aid.
"Personally? Naturally not. But after he approached Hou to cure his herpes, I read the after-action report. We should know if water bending can treat genital warts."
That caused an instant reaction. "You gave me herpes!" screamed out Kazu, his outrage directed entirely towards the unfortunate Jin. Knowing Kazu, it was entirely fake.
"I was clean! I never went to the swamp grandpa in the first place!" responded Jin in a similar volume to his partner.
Or was it prison wife? After all, both of the men had partied it up in the red light district once I had gotten the out of the earth kingdom POW mines. They should have spent their first salary on long-time investments instead!
"She is only kidding, Kazu," said Captain Tyro, not nearly as exacerbated as a man his age should be when adults started talking about sexually transmitted diseases. During war, humor of any kind was essential and the earth bender had always been a good sport besides. I had joked with my old battalion in much the same way, though sadly I could no longer mock the communists.
"In all seriousness though, remember that, unlike the other elements even small amounts of fire can be deadly if aimed correctly," I explained to my recruits, pointing at Prince Zuko.
"See how he only uses basic forms? It is because he doesn't need anything else."
Indeed, Zuko did not waste energy on a pointless display, shooting small orbs from his fist to disrupt the Commanders form.
It was moderately effective, in that it stopped Zhao's relentless attack. However, the commander had earned his title, adjusting his stance immediately and summoning a titanic wall of flame, far bigger than anything I could produce. Eugenics truly created unfair market advantages.
Zhao's move had the desired effect. It broke line of sight with the exiled Prince, who immediately stopped his attack. There was no point if he did not know where to aim.
"What's wrong Zhao? Finished already?" taunted Prince Zuko.
With a roar, the Commander brought his hands together, drawing the flames close. Around his hands a gigantic fireball formed, the power of the technique making any attempt at deflection pointless. It was a good thing then that the exiled royal seemed incredibly agile.
Dropping to the ground in a swift movement, the miniature sun harmlessly passed over him. He then rushed forward, approaching at a low angle. The way he ran reminded me of our most elite scouts, keeping his center of mass barely above ground.
Acting in a way benefiting a veteran commander, Zhao immediately readjusted his aim and sent out twin streams of fire.
Having far less force behind it than his previous attack, Prince Zuko didn't bother dodging. He ripped the oncoming flames apart, with a perfectly executed dragon claw.
It was impressive, how he did not lose his balance even after raising his arms above shoulder height. I would not manage such a maneuver, even without my heavy plate.
Closing the distance, the exiled prince shot up, intent on delivering a burning uppercut. Zhao realized his goal instantly and brought forth a desperate stream of flame that surrounded his body.
It was effective. Zuko, in a move circus performers would be envious of flipped backwards, out of range of the furious attack.
Frustrated, the commander took a stance I had never seen before. It shared a few similarities to the orthodox naval style, but was even more aggressive.
Then, he began bending. The torches around us grew more powerful, and heat waved of both Zhao and any other sources of flame.
"You know, my teacher was a fool, wrong about so much," Zhao said, his voice laced with nostalgia instead of anger. Entering horse stance, tendrils of flame drew closer. "There was one thing we have however always agreed on: Fire Bending is Destruction!" he screamed, and the flames he had gathered at his feet burst into a cyclical explosion.
I watched the oncoming flames impassively, not moving an inch. Before I could even feel the oncoming heat, Captain Tyro raised a wall of earth, the stone moving like water.[10] Like a wave would, it collapsed into itself immediately afterward, giving us an unobstructed view of the action.
Zuko had not been idle. Moving with feline grace, the exiled royal had taken the opportunity provided by Zhao's pointlessly powerful move to once again close the distance. By jumping inside the flaming circle, he had run to the only place on the battlefield that did not become a sea of fire.
"You know, my teacher told me something too," the Prince panted, exchanging a series of furious blows. Zhao could not respond, desperate to keep up with the relentless assault and not have his skin burned by Zuko's flame daggers.
"He told me to remember the basics!" he screamed, suddenly kicking the ground, sparking a tiny wave of flame that nearly hit Zhao's feet. Alone, it probably was not enough to disrupt the veteran's form. It was a good thing then, that Zuko did not let up.
Again and again, he attacked the commander's bare soles while forcing the man to block his punches.
Soon, Zhao lost his balance. "Do it!" he screamed, as Zuko raised a flaming fist toward his head. It seemed like the commander would get his honourable death.
Or maybe not. The exiled prince shot his fireball into the backed earth, singing the ground black.
"It's over," commented Hou, explaining he added: "The Prince singed Zhao's ear."
Mhm, that was an impressive vision for someone his age. Could water bending also heal eye strain? Considering the number of documents I poured over with only my fire bending as illumination, it would be prudent to ask later.
Regardless, the prince's grace was bothersome. I had hoped that Zuko would spare me from having to waste my time watching another Agni Kai.
Ah well, complimenting Iroh for his technique after his inevitable victory wouldn't be so bad either. We fire benders see our flames as an extension of ourselves, and praising Iroh for his was the perfect brown-nosing opportunity.
"That's it?!" called commander Zhao, outraged that the assistant of his assisted suicide did not want to become a murderer. "Your father raised a coward!"
Insulting the Fire Lord now, eh? This man had more courage than my entire vanguard. Did he bet that his noble status would protect him from being quartered for Lese Majeste? Dying in an Agni Kai against the Fire Lord himself would be an honour I was unsure Ozai would grant. Far more likely that he would exterminate Zhao's entire clan personally, before feeding him to his hunting dogs.
"Next time you get in my way, I promise, I won't hold back," the royal warned, before turning around and walking away, not helping up his downed opponent. Nobody expected him to. It was an honour duel after all, and the mysterious insult delivered by the Commander probably made any reconciliation impossible. Legally, his defeat was an admittance of fault, not an apology.
Therefore, what Zhao next did was a prosecutable crime. With a roar, the navy officer kicked a great gust of flame at the exiled Prince's unprotected back. Dammit!
Even as lightning crackled along my arms, I knew I was too late. My bolt would kill Zhao, as sure as the sun rising. Not before a hole would be punched through the exile, however. Guided by the clarity of the cold chi, I instead redirected the electricity into the air. General Iroh would likely want to torture his nephew's killer first.
It was not to be. Somehow, the aged war hero had crossed dozen of paces near instantly, grabbing Zhao's foot and blocking the deadly attack. With a simple hand movement, the force was reversed and Zhao fell back to the ground, leaving a trail of mud as he slid backward.
Zuko, intent on making due on his promise, roared and charged forward, only to be held back by his uncle. "No Prince Zuko, do not taint your victory."
Turning to the disgraced official, the General asked with deadly calm: "Is this how the great commander Zhao acts in defeat? Even in Exile, my nephew is more honourable than you."
Zhao flushed crimson for a moment, before countering: "What honour do you speak of?! The prince betrayed his nation by keeping the news of the Avatar's reappearance secret!"
His words stunned the watching crowd. Well, those of us still conscious, that is. Zhao's careless attack had only hit his own men, who all only survived thanks to the heat-conductive properties of their armour.
My own shock did not affect me nearly as much. My chi pathways being flooded by the cold fire, I rationally thought about my next course of action. A being of immense power had reappeared, strong enough to shift the balance of power on his own, if the historical accounts contain even a single grain of truth.
I would curse Being X, but the state I was in did not even allow for hatred to cloud my judgment.
Why had Prince Zuko kept the knowledge to himself? As his ship arrived in the harbor, I had noted the massive damages. Since his ship had been patrolling the famously treacherous waters around the South Pole, I had bought his explanation.
Now it seemed more likely that he had engaged in battle, which would also explain how the puncture holes were this spread out. The fact that the vessel had managed to survive the encounter at all was quite surprising.
The question remained, why Zuko had not immediately sent out signal flares and ordered the navy to blockade the entire southern ocean. We had the manpower for it, in any case.
Then I remembered what Azula had told me was the condition for lifting his exile. Ozai had commanded him to capture the Avatar. Was it possible then our Fire Lord had given a secret order to his son, to keep the Avatar's return hidden?
In the first place, it was incredibly suspicious that the most powerful bender in the world had not been heard from for a century. As Avatar Roku had been a mad tyrant in opposition to Fire Lord Sozin and his reincarnation an air nomad that had surely been killed in the genocide, our high command expected the Avatar to be hostile.
Which made their inactivity so strange. Maybe, they were just neutral, keeping out of human affairs like Avatar Kuruk had done. Not that the current Avatar did nearly as good a job killing spirits as he did I reconsidered, feeling the dull pain caused by the bite scar.
Regardless, there had to be some kind of explanation. And, applying Occam's razor, neutrality was the most realistic option, followed by the Avatar simply getting lost in the spirit world where time flowed differently. Though never had the 'bridge between' been gone this long.
In such a context, Ozai tasking his son with capturing the Avatar took on a different meaning. Maybe the 'capture' was merely a pretext to begin negotiations to end their neutrality and have the most powerful bender in the world join the fire nation.
Alternatively, it could be that the air nomad Avatar had simply died their natural death by now, and Zuko was sent to bring the new Avatar back.
Maybe Roku's successor had kept to the actual ideology of his people, pacifism, and not involved themself. After all, the Avatar was an honourary fire nation citizen too.
As the next Avatar was to be born in the Southern Water tribe, offering the family of the infant a luxurious home in the Caldera should be enough to net ourselves the Avatar before they could be turned against us. Growing up in the heart of a modern nation would colour their opinion as surely as being raised on the frigid poles under hunter-and-gatherer conditions would.
How else could the Avatar support the fire nation spreading its progress, if they did not even know what progress was?[11]
A son would always be more trusted than a non-blood-related official, history had shown that. It would also explain why Iroh accompanied his nephew. As a storied General, he alone could be an effective argument for migration and his many years of entrapping Ozai's enemies as a false lure should give him the negotiation skills the teenage Prince lacked.
Yes, a secret mission was the most rational reason why Zuko had not shared his discovery. And now thanks to Zhao, I was at a real risk of being silenced!
Logic, at least, provided me with the next steps: "Thank you, Commander Zhao, for loudly shouting out classified information after you acted dishonourably in defeat."
"Do not lie to me! They kept the knowledge from you too!" screamed the officer, his voice shrill.
"That is classified," I responded with a smile. "Regardless, the Avatar's reappearance requires immediate action," I said, walking towards the commander. Staring down at the man, I considered killing him then and there. He was obviously unstable, and he had just attacked royalty.
On the other hand, I was not his commanding officer, and straining my relationship with the navy further was unacceptable.
Enough human resources had been wasted during my campaign.
I turned around, knowing that my guards would kill Zhao instantly if he tried to attack my turned back. Walking a few steps, I looked for a piece of ground not covered in mud or ash, while Zuko watched in confusion and Iroh in amusement.
When I finally found a clean space, I kowtowed and called: "Prince Zuko! Please allow me the honour of aiding you!"
Standing up and seeing Zuko's shocked face, I explained: "I find my army to be a great negotiation advantage."[12]
AN: Why does Zhao only spill the beans about the avatar after the duel?
Well, he wanted him for himself of course, and there was no reason for Zuko to spoil the secret to more people with soldiers under their command, like say Tan Ya. So both have an incentive not to tell a third person and retain their silence. Until Zhao is lost in anger, that is.
[1] Slavery is, in a world where a demi god with a moral compass runs around, not a thing. Officially. Read the other footnotes to learn about the late Suiji's upbringing. Yeah, her referring to herself as his slave is definitely something Ozai would enjoy. It is also the normal address for bought (purchased) servants in the Chinese language.
[2] A Black Pavilion is a hidden palace/school/building/sect of the imperial court or even singular nobles where they raised/indoctrinated all their black ops operatives/disposable pawns. The historicity of the entire thing is a bit doubtful as such a place tends to create influential cliques (of which we have no accounts) but ruthless spy work, purchased servant contracts (aka slavery), and indoctrination since childhood were all tactics used in IRL, so I am just rolling with the cool concept.
[3] I would recommend NOT looking up what the Ash Room is. As always it is based on real history, but the story is more exiting if you don't know exactly what awaits you. After all, the first option might yet win and give you a POV of an unfortunate stuck within.
[4] I am basing this on the Kyoshi novels, where the estate of the governor was so massive that it also served as a prison and grain silo. Considering the societal stagnation of the earth kingdom and the former merchant republic specifically, I imagine that the mansion that Tanya sees 400 years later keeps the same facilities, even if the architectural style changes. It just makes sense to store grains in a vault in the feudal society of the Earth Kingdom, as many Japanese daimios did. The peasants after all pay their tax with rice and grains, not coins.
[5] Kraut made a pretty good albeit short video about imperial legacies. Sadly he does not mention the Incan grave traditions at all, which are fascinating and definitely worth a read. For the Inca, a king visiting his ancestors was an important step in assuring his legitimacy. Similarly, sometimes Chinese imperial dynasties did not desecrate previous tombs (or did and looked for the tombs a dynasty back), instead interring themselves there too, to present a continuation. Tan Ya destroying ancestral shrines is both a horrific crime and robs entire generations of their connection to the past. You might begin to notice that the woman really does not fuck around when it comes to her enemies.
[6] Chinese bureaucracy is old. Like really old. Older than France, older than the compass, older than the first human settlements in New Zealand. Such age brings with it traditions, which are kinda strange from a western perspective. Household registration and birth certificates being a thing for millennia meant that millennia of culture got attached to what is essentially a government form we still use today. So unlike the plain sheet of paper your mother got handed to at the hospital, the imperial family was registered on engraved jade and gold albums. Shattering these tablets was done to symbolically remove royalty, disinheriting them. As Zuko is still addressed as Exiled Prince, I figure his imperial titles are not revoked. This isn't as strange as you might think, as breaking the albums was quite an extreme option as it also prevented the former royal from being interred with their ancestors. And now, if you want to argue that FN is based on Japan, yada, yada, first up, they have far more common with the Srivijaya empire, including a priest class like the fire sages. And second, for this example like most others it totally wouldn't matter since Japan and Korea pretty much stole the entire court culture from the Chinese.
[7] Depending on the dynasty, there often was a difference made between literary officials, who range from your typical bureaucrat to soothsayer, and military officials, who as the name suggests did not take part in any imperial exam and worked in the army. As the fire nation reduced the nobility's power by shifting their duties to the bureaucracy and their authority to the Fire Lord, I find a similar split/classification sensible. It is honestly more a cultural thing I felt interesting to explain, which will also play a later role in exiting court politics! Yay!
[8] Old imperial Chinese proverb, originating from Confucianism. As your body was holy, being a gift and possession of your parents, desecrating it was not only an insult to the fallen scholar, but also to his parents, ancestors, and family. Now, if you wanted to kill the entire clan for three generations, that wasn't that big of a problem. In most normal cases that cultural taboo however lead to poison and strangulation being a lot more popular than the headsman. (for aristocrats)
[9] Let's be honest. The fusion between the ultimate burying animal and the ultimate rooting animal is a lot more evolutionary viable than a lot of the other combos, and I just really want to be able to call someone a hog-worm.
[10] I am not pulling this out of my ass, actually. Fake-Avatar Yun, who like Tanya's army was also thought fire, earth and water bending could make stone behave like water and even recreate realistic flames out of dust. Yeah, that dude was a monster, easily an equal of 12-year-old Toph. The good captain isn't nearly as good, but he also uses water bending forms and can imitate some simpler moves.
[11] Tanya, in cannon, has a pretty extreme opinion in that she believes that 'no superior races exist, the Europeans merely did not realize that it was because of their superior [liberal, capitalist] civilization' her words not mine. Like, she genuinely believes there are lesser and greater civilizations, with a 21st century capitalist democracy considered her endpoint of history. That also means that she doesn't see 'lesser' cultures as worth protecting. History, like say a building? Sure. Any cultural traditions, be it the role of women in society or a taboo against eating some kinds of meat, should be judged and evaluated rationally, and discarded if they do not meet market standards. She is no activist though, and her ideals are secondary to personal survival.
[12] Poor Zuzu totally feels threatened lol. Hearing Tan Ya say that after coldly considering whether she should kill a man would send shivers down anyone's spine.
AN: Since it will probably come up:
No, Tanya saying that she can't summon as tall a firewall as Zhao is not a mistake. Thank you for reading, as always there is a tiny hint about what the next chapter will be about, for the careful reader. Last time it was the long history of the Beifong's as weapon manufacturers.
