Chapter 14: Sozin's Comet Part Five

Okay, so after finally finishing this part, I've officially decided to make the next chapter, the finale in this arc.

And then my long awaited Hiatus, Because I kind of made updating this story as my career and that's not a good idea, unless you getting paid for it. So, yeah that's why the break.

Anyway, This chapter is told in four perspectives and some are short and some are a bit lengthy but don't worry, this is purely to end things off for the first arc.

Katara tended to Zuko's wounds, her hands glowing softly as she pressed them to the angry burn marks left from Azula's lightning strike. She focused, drawing in water to cool the wound and ease the pain, but Zuko's gaze stayed fixed on the stars above, his expression unreadable.

"I had my chance, the only one I'd get, and I lost it. The Agni Kai… it was the only way to end this." Zuko's words came out strained, regret etched into his face. "Now, because of me, this war could go on for who knows how long."

Katara's hands glowed softly as she concentrated on mending the torn skin. She shook her head, her voice steady but gentle. "You shouldn't think about that right now. Just try to relax."

"You heard Suki," Toph piped up. "We're lucky to be alive! Those barriers barely held up. If the attacks hadn't stopped, I'd be toasted. Heck, we'd all be toasted."

Zuko's gaze drifted over them all, his eyes darkening with thought. "But… why did she stop? She had us all, right there. She could have ended it."

Katara gave Zuko a stern look, a clear warning to stay calm. "Zuko. You need to stay still. I'm doing everything I can, but you're making it difficult."

Zuko sighed, letting his head fall back, though the doubt was still clear on his face. "I know, but… she had us. If it weren't for Toph and Sokka showing up when they did, we'd be dead. And yet she stopped. Why?"

Sokka cleared his throat from where he sat against the saddle wall, his voice low. "Maybe because you were with us."

Zuko looked at him, skepticism evident. "That rubbish. She was about to kill me without a second thought until the two of you showed up. Something doesn't add—"

Katara pressed Zuko down, a touch more firmly this time. "Enough. You need to stay still if you want to keep breathing." Her voice softened as she cast a glance at Sokka. "And Sokka, you're next. After Zuko, I'm taking a look at whatever Azula put you through. I can't even begin to imagine."

Sokka paused, averting his gaze, as if the words tasted bitter. "I… I'm fine, Katara. Really."

Suki turned toward him, concern etched in her eyes. "What do you mean, you're fine? Sokka, you were her prisoner for weeks." Her voice softened as her eyes searched his, her tone more gentle. "I know what she's capable of."

He took a deep breath, avoiding her gaze. "Oh, I know. Trust me, I know." He paused, his voice catching. "But it's… complicated."

Suki's brow furrowed, her worry growing. "What do you mean, complicated?"

After a beat, Sokka looked at her, his voice a little hollow. "She had me treated."

There was a collective pause as his words hung heavy in the air, everyone's expressions shifting to shock, their disbelief evident.

"She… she had you treated?" Suki's voice was quiet, disbelief heavy in every syllable.

Sokka nodded. "I think it was her way of prolonging my suffering." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Keep me in pain long enough to feel it, but healthy enough to keep going."

"Oh, Sokka…" Katara's voice softened, her hand briefly reaching out before she let it fall to her side.

Toph gave a low whistle, glancing over at Zuko. "No offense Zuko but you're sister is sick. I always wondered how you turned out so different from her."

Katara gave Toph a knowing look. "Well, just for the record Toph, Zuko wasn't always this good either."

Zuko, his breathing a bit steadier now, looked from Katara to Toph. "I guess, we both… had a complicated childhood."

Suki turned back to Sokka, her eyes searching his. "Is that why she kept you alive?"

Sokka looked away, the gnawing guilt rising in him whenever he met her gaze. "I don't know," he answered softly. "Maybe."

Then, as if wanting to shake off the weight of the entire ordeal, he straightened, forcing a tight smile. "Look, I'm exhausted, and if Zuko feels half as bad as he looks, we can't just keep flying around forever."

Toph gave a nod. "Yeah. As much as I'm used to high stakes, I wouldn't mind having a solid piece of earth under me again."

All eyes turned to Zuko, who looked at each of them, then sighed, his resolve returning. "We have to find Aang. Hopefully, my uncle was right… that he faced my father. And if he did, we will see signs of the battle as soon as we make for the Earth Kingdom coast." He turned his gaze toward the horizon. "Then we'll follow the airships' trail. That should lead us somewhere."

Suki, her arm protectively around Sokka, glanced at Zuko with a worried frown. "And how do we do that, exactly?"

Zuko managed a faint smile, though his exhaustion was clear. "Easy. We look for scorched earth. Wherever you find that, you'll find my father. And probably Aang."

Aang watched as the last airship in Ozai's fleet spiraled downward, finally crashing into the shimmering waters below. The sound of the impact echoed through the air, only to be followed by a familiar, unmistakable laughter—a lighthearted yet fierce chuckle that filled the skies. For a moment, Aang thought it might have been Zuko and the others, somehow managing to turn the tide by taking down the airships while he had been fighting Ozai. But when he heard that laughter again, realization dawned.

"Bumi…" he murmured, a smile breaking across his face.

As if sensing Aang's thoughts, Bumi's laughter rang out louder, reverberating against the distant cliffs and reverent skies. The chaos of the battle began to settle as Ozai lay against a nearby rock, bound and beaten, his bending stripped away by Aang's newfound power. The former Fire Lord now looked as powerless as the day he'd begun his journey of domination.

"You think you've won?" His voice, though weakened, was filled with malice. "You think the war is over?"

Aang turned, his expression grave as he faced the fallen Fire Lord. "No, I don't think it's over. But I believe the worst is behind us, and peace is on the horizon."

Ozai's laugh was cold, echoing over the desolate battlefield. "Peace?" He spat the word. "There will be no peace while my daughter sits on that throne."

Aang didn't flinch. "Zuko is the rightful heir, and he will bring peace to the world as I have brought balance."

Ozai's grin grew wider, laced with scorn. " You naïve child," he sneered. "Do you truly believe my people would accept a traitor—a weakling, no less—as their Fire Lord? Please, there would be a revolt, the very next day."

Aang's eyes narrowed. "Zuko is anything but weak. And he will defeat Azula."

"Will he now?" Ozai's tone was venomous, a smug twist to his words. "We'll see about that."

Before Aang could respond, Bumi's laughter crescendoed as he launched himself from another position to their rock pillar, landing between Aang and the defeated Fire Lord. Bumi's broad, wild grin was enough to light up the battered battlefield.

"Aang! Momo!" Bumi exclaimed, throwing his arms open wide. "It's so good to see you two."

Aang broke into a grin, rushing over, with the flying lemur, to embrace his old friend. "You too, Bumi! I had no idea it was you handling the airships! I thought maybe Zuko and the others had come to help."

Bumi chuckled heartily, clapping Aang on the back. "No, no, they had other business to attend to—namely, taking on the new Fire Lord back at the Fire Nation capital. And... they're there to rescue your friend Socky too."

Aang managed a faint smile, though his expression held unease. "You mean Sokka."

"Ah, yes, that's the one!" Bumi replied with a shrug. His expression turned thoughtful. "Though, to be honest, we haven't heard anything yet from the capital."

Aang's smile faded immediately as he turned to glance at Ozai, who still held that infuriatingly confident smirk. There was an unease in the air, a feeling that perhaps the fight wasn't truly over, and Aang couldn't shake it. Whatever was happening at the capital, it was still hanging in the balance.

"It's like there's still something in the air that doesn't bode well," Bumi said quietly, his face suddenly serious. "That's why, once we're done here, I need to return to Omashu. My people will need me, now more than ever."

Aang nodded, his gaze drifting to the sky. He swallowed back the worry gnawing at his heart. "I just hope they're okay."

Bumi's gaze turned somber, following Aang's line of sight. "As do I, Aang."

After a heavy pause, Aang asked, "Did you come alone?"

Bumi shook his head. "Master Pakku and Master Piandao are here as well. They're busy rounding up prisoners from the wrecked airships as we speak."

"And where would you take them?" Aang asked, glancing back at the smoldering wreckage that marked the end of Ozai's reign.

"We'll be escorting them to 'New Ozai'," Bumi continued with a chuckle, glancing at the Fire Lord's battered form. "Or should I say…New Omashu?" he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Right, but we still have one unaccounted prisoner," Aang said quietly, his voice steady but his gaze sharp as he looked at Ozai, his tone carrying a finality that left no question as to who he meant.

Ozai's smirk faded, but only slightly, his pride barely diminished despite his defeat. There was a hardness in his eyes, a refusal to accept his downfall, even as he sat bound and beaten on the stone pillar.

Bumi gave a small, approving nod. "Then let's make sure he's escorted to his…proper place," he said with a grin, though his tone held an undercurrent of warning.

In the high tower chamber, Azula stood motionless, gazing out at the darkening sky through the massive breach Toph had left in the wall. The place was elegant, well-kept, and nothing like the prison cells she'd condemned so many to. She barely registered the presence of Tuka and the guards stationed behind her, all standing in the same rigid silence, their expressions a careful blend of duty and discomfort.

For more than an hour, she had kept them waiting in silence as she stared into the void beyond the shattered wall, her mind replaying the events of the day over and over. Even a messenger had to stand by, waiting, while Azula brooded in silence.

Azula's mind circled back to every possible scenario, every oversight that might have allowed Sokka's escape. She could have foreseen this, prevented it even, if only she had brought him with her to the royal plaza and chained him to the throne. It would have been far simpler, keeping him close enough that he'd have no chance of escaping.

Still, there was something irrational, something almost childish that lurked beneath the surface of that impulse. The thought nagged at her, and her gaze hardened as she considered it, as she asked herself a question she knew was absurd—why did he choose them over her?

After everything she'd done to him?

Of course he would choose them, she thought. Who in their right mind would choose a captor, a tormentor, over their loved ones?

But what about the night before?

Surely, it had meant something to him as much as it did to her. Surely, it changed him as much as it had changed her.

And yet, the thought of facing him now, after everything that had passed between them—those desperate words, that brief moment of vulnerability—felt almost unbearable. In an odd way, it was a relief that he wasn't here. She found herself strangely comforted by the fact that she didn't have to look him in the eye, not just yet. She needed time, she realized, to process the weight of this unfamiliar dilemma.

With a quiet sigh, she turned to face the crumbling wall, as if expecting to find some answer in the fractured stones and scattered rubble. She was so engrossed that, without turning, she murmured to herself, "How could they have possibly known he was here?"

Tuka, ever cautious, stepped forward. "My lord, perhaps they—"

Azula's words cut through, sharp and cold. "There are over one hundred rooms in this tower, and they just happened to break into his cell." Her voice carried a note of disbelief, of accusation almost, though directed at no one in particular.

The guards and Tuka remained silent, stealing glances at one another, uncertain how to respond. Only the messenger, distinct in his uniform bearing the royal insignia, dared speak up.

"If I may, Fire Lord Azula…" the messenger ventured, his voice both cautious and determined. "Forgive me if I overstep, but I bring urgent news, and I can't see how one missing prisoner holds more importance."

For a moment, Azula's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, her jaw tightening as her hand twitched, poised as if she might strike him down. But she held back, drawing a long, measured breath, and her expression shifted, becoming eerily calm.

"You're right, messenger," she replied, her voice cool, indifferent, as though the answer were trivial. "We can return to this matter later. After all, it's just one useless prisoner."

Tuka's brow furrowed. Azula's tone was uncharacteristically detached, too casual even, as though she herself did not believe her own words. In the silence, Tuka's mind lingered on the morning's events, on the image that had shaken her like nothing else before.

She had entered this very room to find Azula not as she'd expected—but entwined with the very prisoner she now called "useless." She had seen the Fire Lord like that, bare and vulnerable beside the one person she never would have guessed to find her with. It was almost beyond belief, a memory Tuka knew she would never forget.

A thousand questions had plagued her since that morning, questions that now simmered beneath her stoic expression as she looked at Azula. What had driven her to let him in that close? Tuka knew Azula's reputation too well to believe that anything about last night had been a whim. And yet, the undeniable truth was there before her: Azula had let him in, let him see her in a way no one else had ever been permitted.

Tuka could only wonder, what was stirring within her queen as it was hard to reconcile the Azula she knew—cold, ruthless, always in control—with the woman she'd discovered in that cell.

After a pause, Azula turned slowly, her eyes fixed on the messenger. "Tell me again," she said, her voice steady but lethal, "why you're here."

The man stepped forward, his stance tense. "Of course, my Lord. We have just received word that Ba Sing Se is under attack by a rogue organization calling themselves the White Lotus."

Azula raised a brow. "The White Lotus… now that's a name I haven't heard since the Royal Academy," she mused, though her tone held no fondness.

The messenger nodded. "Governor Uruso requests immediate reinforcements."

Azula's eyes flickered with a brief flash of surprise before settling into an expression of scorn. "Reinforcements? This must be some kind of joke."

"They've already breached the inner wall," the messenger continued cautiously.

"The inner wall?!"

Her voice cut through the room, incredulous. She paused, collecting herself, but the disdain in her tone was unmistakable as she continued, "He commands more soldiers than nearly any other stronghold in the nation, yet he calls for more?" She scoffed, her gaze turning distant, her voice lowering to a cold murmur. "He has the comet's power at his disposal, and yet the enemy is tearing through his defenses?"

The messenger cleared his throat, braving her disdain. "They too have firebenders, my lord, powerful ones at that. Reports indicate they are led by none other than General Iroh."

Azula's expression grew colder, her eyes hardening at the name. "So, the old man thinks he can make up for past failures, does he?" she said, her words laced with disdain. "Very well."

She turned her attention back to the messenger, her tone decisive. "Have the governor informed that he will hold that city or perish with it.

The messenger nodded sharply. "Yes, my lord." He hesitated, as though unsure whether to continue. But he forced himself forward, knowing better than to delay. "There is… one other matter, my lord. We've received no communication from the Phoenix King's fleet. It's… silent."

Azula's gaze turned dark, her thoughts shifting, calculating. "Then send a convoy to assess their situation at once." she said, her tone final.

The messenger nodded, stepping back before retreating from the room. Silence filled the space once more, though Azula barely seemed to notice, her gaze turning again toward the open sky. There was something wrong. The thought settled heavily within her chest, cold and unwelcome. For all the power of the comet, the throne felt precarious, as though there were cracks in its foundation.

It reminded her of the day of the eclipse, A day, where her people were dangerously exposed, vulnerable. She recalled the way she had manipulated events to ensure their survival, how she had extracted that crucial information from the Earth King weeks before. She had prevented disaster then, using her cunning and foresight to outmaneuver the invasion, to guard the empire when its defenses had been at their weakest.

But now, with the comet's strength coursing through their nation, she felt that vulnerability resurface. It was absurd, she knew—the comet was meant to empower them, to bring fear to their enemies, not expose them. This was supposed to be the time of their ultimate triumph, the day the world saw the Fire Nation's true might, a day reminiscent of her great-grandfather's victory over the Air Nomads.

She would not allow it. She would not let the Nation's greatest triumph become her failure. No-She would not let their enemies gain ground, would not let a few scattered rebels threaten her empire. She would be the Fire Lord her people deserved, the one her ancestors could only dream of. She would surpass Sozin, Azulon, even her own father. She would stand in history not only as a conqueror but as the greatest ruler the Fire Nation had ever known.

Azula straightened, her gaze hardening as she cast one last look at the broken wall, then turned her back to the setting sun. A final resolve burning in her chest. She would end this war once and for all. Her power would be unmatched, her nation invincible. And nothing—neither the White Lotus nor the Avatar—would stand in her way.

The Order of the White Lotus had reached its final battleground, tram cars slowing as they came to a halt on the palace grounds. The night air was thick with the scent of scorched earth and metal, the sky still glowing with the power of the comet that surged through each firebender. Less than half of their original force remained, but General Iroh and Jeong Jeong pressed forward, bruised and battered but unbroken.

They had made it through the inner wall and now faced the heart of Ba sing Se. But the palace itself loomed ahead, heavily fortified, its grounds patrolled by the Fire Nation's Elite Guard, who waited in formation, their armored tanks gleaming ominously under the moonlight. For the White Lotus, this was their most difficult battle yet.

The soldiers of the Fire Nation stood firm, their disciplined ranks reflecting the intensity of their commitment to protect the royal palace at any cost. Metal tanks rolled into place, their thick, steel-reinforced plating and massive flamethrowers pointing directly at the oncoming force. From the battlements above, additional firebenders took aim, prepared to rain fire down upon the advancing group.

Jeong Jeong pressed against nearby cover, next to Iroh, his eyes sweeping over the seemingly impenetrable defenses. He grunted, wiping blood from a cut along his brow. "Iroh," he murmured, the edge of frustration and concern clear in his voice. "We've made it this far, but isn't something supposed to have happened by now?"

Iroh's gaze was steady as he considered this. "You're right, my friend. By this time, the Avatar should have defeated my brother, and my nephew should have secured the throne, thus initiating the cease-fire we've been looking for."

Jeong Jeong's face hardened as he glanced back to their diminishing numbers, watching a few more of their comrades fall to the elite Firebenders' ruthless attacks. "What do you suggest we do then?"

Iroh's eyes blazed as he looked toward the palace's massive gates. "We follow the original plan. We take and hold the palace, and we force the governor to surrender the city."

Jeong Jeong's grim expression softened into a fierce grin. "Then let's not waste time. We've made it this far—might as well see it through."

Iroh's lips curved into a small smile as he looked at his old friend. Then, with a nod, he stepped out from behind the battlement. In a heartbeat, he drew on the power of the comet, his body seeming to surge with energy as he prepared to unleash everything he had.

Then he struck.

A massive plume of fire erupted from his fists, roaring to life and surging forward like a fiery dragon, swallowing the courtyard in a wave of red and orange flame. The sheer force of Iroh's firebending was astounding. The flames poured from him in relentless waves, engulfing the ranks of soldiers in front of him. The fire twisted and spiraled, tearing through the Elite Guard's front lines as they scrambled to contain the inferno. The tanks fired in retaliation, massive jets of flame aimed directly at Iroh, but he moved swiftly, redirecting their attacks into the air with blasts of his own fire that intercepted their flames.

Jeong Jeong's jaw dropped as he looked down to see Iroh's continued assault, his power amplifying with each step. Iroh's fire was an unrestrained fury, and he moved with precision and grace, embodying the title he had been given long ago—the Dragon of the West.

It was as if the comet's energy had fueled his very essence, allowing him to summon torrents of fire that far exceeded the power of any ordinary firebender. He didn't just command the flames—he was the fire.

The tanks rolled forward, their armored plating gleaming in the firelight. Their flamethrowers roared to life, sending concentrated jets of flame that barreled toward Iroh. But Iroh met them head-on, his fire slashing through theirs, deflecting some of the blasts upward with a swing of his arm, causing a fiery arc to explode against the walls of the palace. The tanks' armor glowed red-hot as they strained to keep up with his relentless attacks, metal groaning as it warped under the heat.

Jeong Jeong, moving along the left flank, shifted his approach once more. With powerful, circular sweeps of his arms, he sent waves of fire at the soldiers who attempted to surround them, focusing on defensive maneuvers while allowing Iroh to drive forward. The soldiers staggered under the relentless heat, forced back as Jeong Jeong's fire cleared a path through the ranks.

Iroh continued his advance, his fire blasting apart battlements and scattering the remaining soldiers. The Elite Guard rallied, trying to cut him off, but Jeong Jeong swooped down, his feet skimming the ground as he sent another wave of fire crashing into the guards from the side. Iroh took advantage of the opening, unleashing a focused blast that shattered the massive iron doors of the palace itself.

The gates groaned and then gave way, crashing open and allowing the Order of the White Lotus to press into the palace corridors. The battle shifted inside, the confined spaces forcing both sides to adapt. Firebenders and soldiers alike filled the hallways, their attacks creating an intense heat that seemed to make the very walls glow. Iroh and Jeong Jeong led the charge, their fire lighting the way as they pushed forward.

But the Fire Nation's Elite Guard was ready. In the huge corridors, they fought with fierce determination, using every tactic and technique at their disposal. The White Lotus was outnumbered and outmatched, yet they continued their advance, pushing through with a relentless resolve.

Then, from the shadows, the Dai Li agents emerged.

The earthbenders struck without warning, their hands slicing through the air as they launched walls of stone to block the intruders' path. The White Lotus members stumbled, forced to halt as the stone barricades closed in around them.

Jeong Jeong raised his hands, unleashing a spiraling column of fire that collided with one of the walls, shattering it to dust. But as soon as he did, another wall sprang up in its place, and the Dai Li agents emerged from behind, their movements swift and coordinated as they launched a barrage of stone fists at the intruders.

He blasted the stones aside, his fire tearing through the air as he advanced. "Keep pushing forward! We're almost there!"

Jeong Jeong nodded, stepping up his own attacks as he fought his way through the relentless onslaught. Together, they burned through the stone walls, each explosion of fire pushing them closer to the throne room. The corridors were filled with smoke, the air thick and stifling as the intense battle waged on. The White Lotus members were fighting with every ounce of strength they had left.

One of the Dai Li agents launched a stone fist at Iroh, but he sidestepped it, sending a jet of flame directly at the agent's feet, forcing him back. Jeong Jeong followed up, his own fire lashing out to scatter the agents that continued to block their way.

They had reached the final corridor leading to the throne room. But even here, the Fire Nation forces were prepared. The Elite Guard had fortified the entrance, a line of firebenders standing shoulder to shoulder, their stances firm, their expressions resolute.

Iroh and Jeong Jeong slowed as they approached, taking a moment to catch their breath. Then Iroh looked over at his friend, his gaze determined.

"For order." he said, his voice steady.

Jeong Jeong gave a nod, his eyes fierce. "And for balance."

With one final burst of energy, Iroh and Jeong Jeong surged forward, their firebending at its peak as they unleashed a storm of flames upon the Fire Nation's last line of defense.