The Day of Black Sun: Part 1
Loose dust and crumbling dirt showered between fresh cracks in the cobblestone ceiling. The once fortified prison looked more like a dilapidated ruin, shuddering precariously as the ground once again shook beneath Zuko's feet. There were a million thoughts racing through his mind as he descended the crumbling stairs. His mother… She was out there somewhere. Alive.
And the Avatar— Another nearby blast from the siege above, a miscalculated fireball, Zuko thought, made his teeth rattle.
Zuko had to find him and teach him. He grunted, leaping, and rolling forward in time to dodge a falling chunk of rubble. Letting out a shaky breath, he patted the dust off his satin red pants. Getting Aang to trust him would be hard enough, but what about the rest of his group?
Ahead, the hallway was partially collapsed. He paused for a moment, trying to slow his racing thoughts. He imagined the moment he would approach them. He would have to face four pairs of angry eyes, three elements (and a boomerang), and one of two outcomes: acceptance or rejection. He hadn't planned for the latter… or the former, for that matter. And what would he even tell them?
'I'm sorry for trying to kill you at least a dozen times'?
Zuko shook out the dust from his hair, scoffing. Squeezing through the fallen rubble, he finally emerged on the other side of the cave-in, into near darkness. He would have to figure that out later.
Other than the sounds of distant fighting and the occasional drip of water, it was totally silent. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the barely illuminated hallway. A single sconce was lit ahead, its lonely flames licking the cool air. His brows knitted as he counted the dark figures of two unconscious guards on the cool ground.
The tips of his fingers still tingled; he could feel the uncomfortable cling of static in his hair, on his clothes. Deflecting his father's lightning had been as exhilarating as it was terrifying. As soon as it made contact, Zuko felt like a wasp in amber, both suspended and surrounded, frozen.
When he finally did move, carrying out the precise forms Uncle taught him, he found himself grappling with an incredible force of raw energy. He could barely control it, but his form had been perfect. I'd be dead if it hadn't been, he thought, a small smile creeping onto this face. He could have sworn he saw Ozai's shocked face from behind a billowing cloud of smoke, right before he escaped. Uncle had taught him well. He'd be proud.
With a well-practiced flick of the wrist, he ignited a flame in his palm. Now that the hallway was better lit, he stepped closer to investigate the damage. Their armor was charred, still smoking in some places. Defense wounds, from a powerful attack. Peering ahead, Zuko noticed the door to one of the rooms had been blown off its hinges from the inside out. Iroh's room.
His head snapped in the direction of a pained groan coming from just inside his uncle's isolation ward. He extinguished the flame, his other hovering by the hilt of his Dao sword. A third guard was starting to regain consciousness on the ground. Beside him lay the door to his uncle's cell, severely warped. The cell was empty.
He crouched and grabbed a fistful of the soldier's collar, holding him up to eye level.
"Where is he?" he rasped.
The guard couldn't answer, instead letting out another delirious moan. His head slowly lolled forward and his eyes stayed shut even after Zuko gave him an exasperated shake. The surge of anger left as quickly as it had come.
How would he know, anyway?
Scowling, Zuko dropped him to the ground. Did he really think Uncle would just stick around and wait for him? That he would hold his hand while he begged the Avatar to accept him as his firebending teacher? If the Dragon of the West had made anything clear to him these past two weeks, it was that joining the Avatar was something he had to do— alone.
Speaking of which…
The Avatar—Zuko swore and caught himself—Aang could still be close. The invasion on the Fire Nation capital had started this morning and, from the hellfire he heard outside, it must still be on. As if on cue, he felt another rumble. Zuko wondered how much longer Water Tribe spears would last against Fire Nation steel. He needed to get out of the prison and find a better vantage point. Now would be his best shot at finding where Aang and his group were— and where they were headed.
The fresh betrayal to both father and nation gave Zuko a strange feeling. Not exactly fear and not quite isolation. He tried to place the feeling as he shook out the small war balloon's red tarp. Zuko got lucky, checking the prison's emergency stockpile. He had found the deflated balloon collecting dust alongside stowed spears, swords, shackles, and drums of flammable oil, all necessary supplies in case of a prison break or riot. He let out a dry chuckle as he packed the balloon's basket with a sack of charcoal— fuel for the journey. None of that had stopped Iroh from breaking free.
Katara could tell her father was in a lot of pain. He had fractured two ribs during his fight at the guard towers but insisted on waiting for her to heal him until after they evacuated. Her father was always a strong if not stubborn man, so she relented. Instead, she kept her arm wrapped around his waist, holding his arm around her shoulders as she watched Aang hop down from Appa's back. The large beast flapped his broad tail, letting out a low groan.
She was surprised to see him here, so soon. There was no way he had found Ozai in such little time…
"It was a trap," he announced. She could hear the bitterness in his voice. Sokka dismounted behind him. She noticed something different about her brother's demeanor as he spoke.
"Azula was waiting for us," Sokka scanned the rest of the invasion force before shifting his gaze back to Katara. "She's known about the invasion plan for months."
Katara's eyes widened. "She knew? How is that even possible?"
"We don't know," Aang replied, scratching Momo's head. The winged lemur chittered nervously in response. "But she… they won. The eclipse is over. We came all this way, fought so hard, and lost good people— for what?" Katara could hear the pain and resentment in his voice.
"Aang…" He looked up at her, gray eyes swimming with sadness. There was so much she wanted to tell him.
"None of that is you fault," she said firmly. Later. That would come later.
He managed a small smile, though his lack of a response indicated that he didn't agree.
"Listen, Twinkletoes," Toph stepped up to them, arms crossing over her chest. "Today could have gone a whole lot better. I know it and you sure as heck do, too." She turned to Katara, Sokka, and Hakoda, blind eyes hooded under her Earth Kingdom helmet.
"But we didn't lose. If anything, we got to pummel a whole army of fire nation soldiers and stick it to the Fire Nation, on their turf. And we're going to get away with it, too." She stomped a foot down, gesturing to the beach. "We have an entire fleet of submarines waiting for us out there. That's our ticket to safety. What we need now is some serious damage control while we escape." No one could argue with that.
"She's right," Hakoda grit his teeth, one hand clutching his injured side. "Getting the wounded to the submarines should be our priority now. With the eclipse over, the Fire Nation soldiers have their bending back. Reinforcements should be arriving any minute now. We can discuss the events of the invasion later."
"Let's take count of the dead and wounded." Katara summoned her determination. One more charge and they'd be safe. "Then, we move."
She watched Aang deflate before composing himself, standing tall once again. He had learned how to keep a strong front, but his eyes always betrayed his pain. He and Sokka started herding the invasion force together, preparing them for a final push to the beach.
Leaving her father with Appa, Katara took a minute to assess their numbers, count their wounded. Some fighters were cleaning their bloodied weapons while others were tending to their wounds. There were no mortal injuries, though she counted quite a few serious cuts and gashes. She would heal them once they were back in the submarines.
Toph was right. The invasion hadn't gone perfectly but it didn't exactly go poorly, all things considered. Even with the Fire Nation anticipating their attack, they had been able to stand their ground and use the eclipse to their advantage. Their losses were at a minimum. If their retreat went well, then they'd have technically mounted the first successful attack against the Fire Nation in over one hundred years.
She glanced over at Aang. He was affected by today's casualties, as was everyone, but the burden looked heaviest on his shoulders.
Zuko sent another plume of fire into the iron oven, content as the air balloon rose higher. He let out a slow breath as he peered at the caldera below. The palace stood tall, looming over the surrounding noble estates and properties that made up the wealthy upper district. Even from his place hundreds of feet in the sky, he spotted lush gardens and manicured lawns, clear ponds and bubbling fountains glistening in the sunlight.
Further from the castle, closer to the sea, smaller homes sat in a less orderly array, peppered around clusters of bakeries, tea shops, butcheries, and open-air markets. This area usually bustled with activity. Amidst the invasion, though, the streets had become deserted. Uncle often referred to this part of the capital city as the true heart of the Fire Nation. Zuko could understand why.
Summer was near. With it typically came festivals, parades, and other overt displays of national pride. The streets would be filled with food stalls, the sound of music, glowing paper lanterns, street performances, maybe a brawl or two. To any observer, it would look like an innocent kind of merriment, the type that could only be so passionately enjoyed by a people who did not fully understand the atrocities orchestrated by their Fire Lord. Zuko felt the corners of his mouth curl.
It wasn't the Fire Nation he hated.
No, he hated his father. He hated the nobles who watched and cheered on as flames took away half of his face, and his honor along with it. Heat radiated from the oven in waves as the fire inside doubled in size. Even so, the pain he went through, the hardship, had been worth it. Zuko straightened, took a deep breath, then exhaled a plume of flames. As his anger subsided, the raging fire powering the war balloon's engine died down. It had all led him to this moment, had inextricably linked him to Aang, to the task of ending this war.
As he continued flying toward the far south of the caldera, closer to the smoking shore, the oppressive sight of the palace started to diminish. Once again, that unfamiliar feeling bubbled up. This time, he acknowledged it.
For the first time in his life, it seemed that Zuko could start to separate himself from his harsh past and abhorrent family. By finding Aang and training him to defeat his father, he could ensure that future generations would experience neither the pain of oppressee nor the malversation of oppressor. Balance would be restored, reparations made, peace sown. Gradually, the Fire Nation would no longer be a symbol of terror and hatred. His expression softened, the tightness on the scarred half of his face relaxing. He finally understood what that strange feeling was. It was something he hadn't felt in more than three years.
Hope.