Chapter 15: Final Hours
Hiatus update: Okay, due to my muse, still troubling me, I have postponed my hiatus for the next chapter, so chapter 16 will be the last one. I mean, I can't just disappear without leaving you people on a cliffhanger or for the very least something to ponder about for a while. So I'll do that in the next chapter. Big reveal incoming!
As for the Arc, I believe the first arc actually ended in chapter 13 because, we're basically in unknown territory straight after that. Now that I think about, that would've been the perfect chapter to break at but ah, what the heck, the milk has already been spilled.
Enjoy.
The dawn was creeping over Ba Sing Se, the last day of Sozin's Comet casting a faint crimson hue over the world. The light trickled through the cracks of the massive throne room windows, illuminating the scars of battle on every surface. Iroh stood at the center of the throne room, his gaze steady as he watched the captured governor, Uruso, being held by two of the White Lotus members. Around them, the remnants of the White Lotus force tended to their wounded, securing prisoners, and casting wary glances at the windows, knowing full well that the battle outside might soon reignite.
The governor, visibly anxious, squirmed as Iroh's piercing gaze fell on him. His shoulders were hunched, his hands fidgeting nervously. In the far corner, Jeong Jeong entered the room, his face grim as he moved towards Iroh. Two other White Lotus members flanked him, their expressions equally somber.
"It seems the generals are showing more resistance than their governor," he said, nodding in Uruso's direction. "Iroh, they're calling back their forces from every corner of the city, rallying towards the palace grounds. We'll be surrounded soon."
Iroh kept his gaze fixed on the governor for a moment,the weight of the situation settling heavily over them both. then turned to meet Jeong Jeong's eyes, and with a calm, almost casual glance, Iroh addressed Uruso. "Governor Uruso," he said, his voice soft yet edged with steel. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to call off your generals?"
The governor's face went pale, and he forced a shaky smile, a nervous laugh slipping out as he stammered, "Of…of course, yes, I will! we've already surrendered! The war is over, right?"
Iroh gave him a long look, his expression unreadable. "Right," he said slowly. "Why don't you wait with these men?" He gestured to the White Lotus members flanking the governor. "I'll be with you shortly."
The governor nodded quickly, swallowing hard as he was escorted from the throne room by his guards. Jeong Jeong waited until the door closed behind them.
"I can feel it, Iroh," Jeong Jeong said, his voice low. "In my bones. The war—it's not over, is it?"
Iroh sighed, casting his gaze towards the Earth King's throne, a seat that had once symbolized the very heart of the Earth Kingdom's might. Now, in this hollowed-out palace, it seemed oddly diminished. He leaned slightly towards it, the vastness of the empty throne room amplifying his voice as he spoke. "When I was a boy, I only ever dreamed of one day, setting my eyes upon this throne."
"And now that it's here, right in front of me…" he turned to Jeong Jeong with a wry smile, "It's really not that impressive."
Jeong Jeong gave a faint chuckle, glancing at the throne before responding dryly. "What's really impressive is how your niece managed to accomplice, what even the greatest conquerors only dream of.
Iroh raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings, master Jeong Jeong?" he asked with mock seriousness.
"No," Jeong Jeong replied, his voice thoughtful. "But help me understand what is holding our victory back." He crossed his arms, casting a look around the grand room, as if he could sense the lingering tension hovering over them.
Iroh's expression grew serious again as he turned his gaze back to the throne. "It appears that very niece of mine is what's holding our victory back. Azula is as cunning as she is ruthless," he said quietly, his tone laced with an undercurrent of worry. "I warned my nephew—warned him time and again—not to face her alone. But now I fear something terrible has happened."
"I feel that it too." Jeong Jeong says. "If they failed to secure the throne, what then?"
Iroh then says." Then my friend, this war is far from over."
Jeong Jeong then says." But what then, when the avatar defeats Ozai..."
Iroh sighed deeply, his gaze shifting toward the open doors of the throne room, the sunlight creeping in as if attempting to bring light to his troubled thoughts. "I'm afraid it would not be enough." he admitted. "In case of defeat or an unforeseen threat, Azula was my brother's long awaited trump card."
Jeong Jeong's eyes narrowed. "So, the serpent has two heads now?"
Iroh nodded grimly. "Yes, it appears so. And the second head may very well be far more dangerous than the first."
Jeong Jeong's jaw tightened, and he looked toward the throne, the weight of Iroh's words settling over him like a shadow. "What do you suggest we do?" he asked, his tone hardened with resolve.
Iroh took a steadying breath, his gaze flickering around the room where the wounded were being tended to, the captured soldiers were being held under guard, and his allies stood with determination. "Our only hope," he said slowly, his voice filled with quiet strength, "lies in holding this position until the Army accepts our demands. And as long as we keep the governor here as leverage, the Fire Nation will hesitate to strike."
The vast, charred landscape stretched out below as the team stared, their eyes wide with shock and silence. From the vantage on Appa's back, they could make out the land scored with massive, jagged scars—trails left by Ozai's destruction and Aang's attempts to halt it. The ground lay cracked and torn as if a giant had clawed through the earth itself, stone pillars shattered and scattered.
Suki's voice was the first to break the silence, barely more than a murmur. "What… What happened here?"
No one could answer. Even Toph, who could often sense more through the earth than the rest could see with their eyes, was still. Slowly, she reached out to touch the side of Appa, steadying herself. The sheer scale of devastation defied words, but she could feel the violence imprinted in the broken ground.
They hovered in silence, until Katara's voice rang out, startling them. "Look over there!" She was pointing down toward the cliffside, near the ocean where the land gave way to a drop-off.
They followed her gaze to the wreckage of the Fire Nation airships—giant metal hulls crushed and twisted, half-submerged in the churning sea. Some of the airships lay wrecked against the rocks, others still floated ominously, their decks barely visible above the water.
There was still no sign of life.
Sokka swallowed hard, before saying. "We should land," his eyes fixed on a large, blackened airship lying closer to the shore, its metal bulk dented and scorched.
Zuko agreed, glancing over the area with a critical eye. "Somewhere near that one. its the flagship. We'll check for any survivors."
With a silent nod, Suki guided Appa down toward the airship. The bison descended, the rush of wind whipping past as they came closer to the fractured metal hulls and the ashen landscape. They settled onto the ground near the largest airship, Ozai's flagship, which loomed over them like a fallen giant.
Once they landed, everyone dismounted—except Zuko, whom Katara held back with a gentle but firm hand. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay here," she said quietly.
Zuko started to protest, but Katara's gaze softened, stopping him before he could even begin. She added gently, "Don't worry. I'll stay with you." He hesitated before nodding, resigned.
Meanwhile, Sokka climbed down, and Suki, still doubtful of the whole recovery act, he was putting on, in front of everyone, reached out to help. But he declined, brushing her hand away with a small smile, doing his best to appear collected as he landed on his own.
"I'm fine, Suki," he said, meeting her eyes. She gave him a searching look but said nothing, though he could sense the unspoken irritation behind her silence.
Just how long is he going to keep this up? Suki thought to herself. Nobody escapes Azula's grasp unscathed, physically, mentally and spiritually.
Toph leapt off Appa, her feet landing solidly on the ground as she stepped toward the looming airship. Sokka looked up at the massive, ruined hull of Ozai's flagship, his eyes trailing along the lines of cracked, scorched metal.
"Okay, you and Zuko hang tight," he said to Katara, "This might take us a couple of hours to search through."
Toph snorted, striding forward. "Oh please, step aside, Sokka," she scoffed, brushing past him. "It'd go a lot faster this way."
Without another word, she pressed her hands against the hull of the ship. Her face grew focused, her fingers spreading over the metal as she felt for vibrations, searching for any hint of life within the vast structure. The silence stretched, the group watching as Toph's face slowly grew stiller, her focus deepening. Finally, she spoke, her voice low.
"I can't sense any movement within its hull. It's empty," she said, pausing, her hands still touching the ship. "Looks like a quarter of it's been submerged, too."
Sokka exhaled, a wry grin creeping onto his face. "Wow. Did I ever tell you how glad I am that you're on our team?"
Toph turned, smirking. "Yep. like a million times."
Suki stepped forward, glancing between the airship and the sea of wreckage. "Well, where is everyone then? Should we check the other ships?"
Zuko's expression grew pensive as he looked out across the remains of the fleet, his eyes distant. "No," he said after a moment, his tone resigned. "I think whatever happened here is clear." He took a breath. "My uncle was right… Aang did face my father. He was probably outnumbered ten to one and realized what needed to be done. And then… he took them all out."
Katara's brow furrowed, her gaze skeptical. "Are you saying that Aang is responsible for everything that happened here?"
Toph crossed her arms, a smirk tugging at her lips. "He probably went Avatar State on all of them. Total annihilation." She shrugged, her tone almost indifferent.
But Katara shook her head, a deeper uncertainty in her eyes. "No, that's not possible. Azula severed his connection to the Avatar State, remember?"
Zuko's gaze softened, thoughtful as he met her eyes. "Maybe he found a way to get it back," he offered quietly. "From… wherever he disappeared to." There was a tentative hope in his words, a flicker of belief he wanted to share.
Katara nodded slowly, though her uncertainty lingered. "Maybe…"
Toph shrugged, her tone growing impatient. "Who cares?" she said, smirking. "I say he beat Fire Lord Ozai, took down his whole army, and saved the world.
Suki's gaze grew distant as she looked out across the empty, war-torn landscape. "To think… This should have been our greatest victory. But what does any of this mean, now that Azula's become Fire Lord?"
Sokka looked down, a grim weight settling in his expression. "Absolutely nothing."
Zuko's voice echoed the same somber tone. "Sadly… that's true."
Sokka's expression grew distant, his mind drifting to darker memories, thoughts that had haunted him ever since their escape. Just few days ago, he was certain that she would loose against Zuko. That she was going to loose everything. A twisted part of him had even pictured her locked away in an asylum, removed from the world where she could no longer cause harm. It was the only ending he could imagine for someone like her.
But instead, He had found Zuko defeated and she had won the Agni Kai, securing her place as Fire Lord with no one left to challenge her rule.
His assumptions hadn't just been wrong—they had been catastrophically wrong. He'd thought Zuko had a real chance against her, even knowing how strong she was. Yet, in the state he'd found her, he'd believed she was weaker somehow, barely clinging to her grip on reality.
Although, there was something else that he tried to ignore, something he desperately tried to push down. The thing that sent a chill through him whenever it surfaced.
that night in the tower, the night of her coronation.
"Then help me," she'd whispered, and the words played back in his mind as if she were right there, whispering them all over again.
A shudder passed through him at how quickly things had spiraled beyond his control, how swiftly she had drawn him into something he couldn't even describe. In those intimate moments, twisting his thoughts and instincts until he'd forgotten where he even stood.
The shame clawed at him, reminding him of how she had twisted his own weakness against him, how he had allowed it. And yet, he could not bring himself to place the blame squarely on her; the truth was, he had betrayed Suki and helped her regain control.
He hoped—prayed—to the spirits that his own weakness hadn't contributed to her victory, that somehow his actions hadn't played a part in all this.
No, no, he wasn't going to think about this now.
Sokka shook his head, biting back the panic that was welling up. He couldn't let himself be pulled under by those memories. The entire affair was still too raw, too vivid.
He forced himself back to the present, pulling his attention away from the gnawing shame in his chest and focusing on the reality before them. And that reality was as bleak as anything he'd faced. Azula was on the throne, and because of this new, grim future they faced, the war would continue. He knew Azula's mind all too well—her precision, her ruthlessness, her genius. This war wouldn't last decades like her predecessors spanned it out to be. No, if Azula had her way, it would be over in months. And with her on the throne, the destruction, the violence, the suffering—all of it would be amplified beyond anything he could imagine.
Strangely, the thought crossed his mind: perhaps Ozai had prolonged the war by keeping her from power. It was an ironic truth that was hard for him to swallow, but it was undeniable: if Azula had taken power earlier, this war might have ended years ago. He could see it as clearly as if it were already happening: Fire Nation armies sweeping across the world, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake, under the command of a woman with a singular, unrelenting drive for conquest.
No, he thought, a renewed determination hardening in his chest, she had to be stopped. One way or another, they had to end this.
Sokka took a deep breath, shaking off the last of his dark thoughts. His voice came out steadier as he looked at the others. "Look, I know I'm out of the loop here, but I say we keep looking around here, see what we can find."
Katara met his gaze, a hint of relief softening her expression. "That's a good idea," she agreed, then turned to Zuko. "We shouldn't just skip to conclusions."
The group nodded, glancing back over the devastated battleground. For a moment, there was a renewed sense of purpose in the air, a shared determination to keep pushing forward despite the endless obstacles. Then, a quiet voice broke through the silence.
"I don't think that's possible," Suki murmured.
They all turned to her, seeing the worry in her eyes. She was staring out toward the ocean, and as they followed her gaze, they saw it—the faint outline of something massive moving through the mist. At first, it was just a shadow against the fog, but then they heard it, a low, ominous horn blaring through the mist, echoing across the water.
A Fire Nation battleship was emerging from the fog, its hull cutting through the mist like a predator honing in on its prey. Appa's massive form had undoubtedly been spotted.
The piercing ring of alarm bells began to clang from the ship as soldiers scrambled on deck. The group stared, frozen for a split second, realizing the danger they were in.
Zuko reacted first, his voice sharp and urgent. "Everyone on the bison now!"
The group moved in a blur, scrambling up onto Appa as fast as they could. Just as they were settling in, a deafening roar split the air. A fireball, massive and blazing, came hurtling toward them from the direction of the battleship.
Zuko, though still weakened from his injuries, pushed himself to his feet on the saddle. With one hand raised, he summoned a fierce, concentrated blast of flame, hurling it toward the oncoming fireball. The two forces collided in midair, erupting into a blinding explosion that lit up the sky, sending shockwaves through the air.
"Yip yip!" Suki shouted to Appa, her voice cutting through the chaos.
The sky bison let out a deep rumble, launching himself upward with powerful sweeps of his body, propelling them higher and higher. The ground fell away below them as they soared above the treetops, leaving the battleship behind.
Once they had cleared the immediate danger, Katara looked back, and her eyes widened. Emerging from the fog were even more ships, each one carrying Fire Nation troops. A fleet had been sent, and the imposing shapes of Fire Nation air balloons were now rising from the ships, drifting upward as they prepared to give chase.
"Oh, that was close," Katara muttered, her eyes wide as she watched the pursuing fleet grow smaller in the distance. She turned to Zuko, her brow furrowing. "How did they know we were here?"
Zuko shook his head, his face tense with concern. "There's no way they could have followed us."
Sokka's eyes narrowed, thinking it through as he watched the ships fade into the distance. "They didn't. They came here, same as us. Azula must've heard what happened to your father's fleet."
The realization dawned on the group, and they looked at Sokka with a mixture of shock and understanding.
"Right," Zuko said slowly, piecing it together. "And judging by what they'll find… There'll be more search parties on their way."
A shadow crossed Katara's face, but she didn't hesitate. "So what?" she shot back. "We can't just leave Aang again. We have to go look for him."
Zuko's expression hardened. "Where, Katara? Where?"
"Back there!" she insisted, her voice growing louder, her determination clear. "We can clear them out and check for any clues."
Suki shook her head, a note of caution in her voice. "We can't fight against an entire army, not in our current condition."
Toph crossed her arms, her voice dry but serious. "Yeah, Suki's right. We'll get roasted for sure."
Sokka sighed, the frustration in his tone unmistakable. "And I'm gonna be pretty useless without any weapons."
Zuko shook his head firmly. "We're not going back."
Katara glared at him, defiance flashing in her eyes, but Zuko didn't flinch. He turned to her, his voice softer but steady. "Look. I know you're worried about Aang, but trust me, I know he's doing just fine, wherever he is."
Katara's gaze dropped slightly, uncertainty clouding her face. After a moment, she looked out toward the distant horizon, her voice quiet but tense. "Easy for you to say."
Zuko let out a sigh, his eyes sweeping over the group. They were all exhausted, drained from battle after battle, each one carrying wounds that were more than just physical. He could see it in the way they moved, in the way their expressions had hardened. They had reached their limits.
"I think, after everything that happened," he said, glancing around at them, "we have to regroup."
Toph nodded, her arms still crossed. "So… we go to your uncle then?"
Suki's eyes lit up slightly with hope. "Right. He and the Order went to liberate Ba Sing Se." She looked at Zuko, her voice tinged with cautious optimism. "Do you think they've won?"
Zuko's gaze fell, his expression softening with a mixture of hope and doubt. "I don't know."
In the heart of the Fire Nation royal palace, an opulent training hall stood secluded behind heavy doors, reserved only for those of the royal bloodline. Morning light seeped through the high windows, casting long beams that mingled with the fierce glow of blue fire filling the room.
Azula, adorned in her training attire, a rare and costly blend of fabrics woven exclusively for the Fire Nation royalty, was sleeveless and fit close to her form, crafted to allow full freedom of movement while accentuating her lithe frame. A deep crimson and black ensemble bordered with gilded edges and embroidery of a dragon curling along the hems, suited for both battle and bearing the power and pride of her station.
She moved with precision and fury, her fists driving intense bursts of fire across the space in waves, each one hotter and brighter than the last. Her blue flames, amplified by the comet's power, scorched the air with a near-blinding brilliance that engulfed the room in light and heat.
On a platform raised high above the floor, Li and Lo sat cross-legged, hands resting on their knees as they observed her every movement with intense scrutiny. They remained silent as they watched the fire surging from her fists and heels, their expressions a mix of admiration and awe.
Azula continued to drive forward with an almost mechanical focus, her movements calculated and her strikes deadly. She ducked, spun, and lashed out again, thrusting her fists forward with brutal efficiency. Blue fire streaked in wide arcs, scorching the air as she executed her final sequence, sending massive flames roaring across the room. The entire space filled with heat so intense it seemed to bend the light, leaving waves shimmering through the air.
Li and Lo exchanged a glance, finally breaking their silence as they observed Azula come to a halt, her chest rising and falling with the weight of her breaths. The elder women clapped, a soft yet appreciative sound that echoed throughout the chamber.
"Well done, Fire Lord Azula," Li intoned, inclining her head as she watched Azula's expression, seeking any trace of satisfaction. "Your bending was flawless."
Lo nodded, adding, "And your form, perfect." Their voices carried a certain reverence as they acknowledged her prowess.
Azula, however, didn't acknowledge them immediately. Instead, she stood still, breathing heavily, her gaze distant as she stared at the charred patches scattered across the floor. Despite her display of skill, her expression remained unmoved. After a long silence, she shook her head and murmured, almost to herself,
"It doesn't matter." Her voice was quiet, laced with a rare note of frustration, as if even her bending, a feat no other firebender could achieve, no longer held the power to satisfy her.
Li and Lo exchanged a puzzled look, concern glinting in their eyes as they tried to understand her mood. They remained seated but shifted slightly forward, sensing something was wrong.
"Very well," Lo began carefully, her tone respectful yet curious. She hesitated, sharing another look with Li before venturing, "May we ask…"
"…what troubles you, Azula?" Li finished, her voice soft, yet the slip of Azula's name fell with unintentional familiarity.
Azula's reaction was instantaneous. Her head whipped around, her gaze piercing as her eyes narrowed in sudden irritation. "Which one of you said that?" Her voice was a venomous hiss, anger flaring at the perceived insolence.
The elder advisors fell silent under her gaze, though neither backed down nor offered an apology. They remained silent, unflinching as they met her fierce glare, though Li's expression softened, a subtle apology hinted in her eyes.
Azula's anger simmered, but she forced herself to breathe, her chest rising and falling with slow control.
"I thought," she continued, voice tight, "that by now, you two would have memorized the protocol, especially regarding the royal title. My name should not be uttered by anyone beneath me."
Both women inclined their heads, a mutual understanding passing between them, and Li spoke first, her voice deferential. "Our apologies, Fire Lord. We know the law-."
"But we have concern for the beautiful princess," Lo interjected, her words soft, nearly reverent.
And Li finished, "The princess we have nurtured through all these years."
Azula's glare softened only slightly, though she did not turn to face them. Instead, she resumed her practice, launching a powerful punch that erupted in a surge of blue fire that scorched the floor ahead of her, followed by another, her strength unyielding despite the clear strain.
"I am grateful," she said, each word punctuated by a powerful punch that sent blue flames shooting out, "for the training you put me through. But this troubling matter of mine is unfortunately not something I can discuss with you." She lashed out with a final kick, sending a blast of fire across the room before she fell silent.
Li and Lo nodded knowingly, their expressions betraying no offense. Li tilted her head thoughtfully. "Of course, Fire Lord. However, might you then confide in the healer?"
"Yes," Lo added, her voice soft, "you have spent much time in her company…"
"…and with the prisoner." Li finished, her tone gentle yet laced with curiosity.
Azula halted again. The room, which had been filled with roaring flames only moments ago, fell silent as she turned to them, her eyes sharp with suspicion. Her hands dropped to her sides as she took a slow step forward, her gaze icy. "How do you know that?" she demanded, her voice dangerously low, a flicker of fury behind her words. "What exactly have you heard?"
"Nothing, of course," Li answered calmly, her eyes steady.
"We are only here to advise," Lo added, her voice measured.
"…and to serve," Li finished, bowing her head as she knelt with practiced grace.
Azula's gaze flickered between them, as if searching for some hidden motive behind their words. Then suddenly, almost out of no where, her head began pulsing with an ache that made her vision swim, but she forced herself to ignore it, breathing through the discomfort. "Then serve me by ceasing your meddling," she said, her voice low and cutting. "And instead, focus on advising me on how to govern this nation."
Li and Lo inclined their heads in silent understanding, their voices in perfect unison. "As you wish, Fire Lord Azula."
Azula turned back to her training, but the throbbing at her temples intensified, sharp and insistent, refusing to be ignored. She tried to push it aside, forcing herself to strike the air once more, but the headache only grew stronger, clouding her thoughts and distorting her vision. Her breathing quickened as the pain spread, a wave of dizziness washing over her.
"Good," she murmured, more to herself than to them, fighting to maintain her composure. She took a step back, clutching her temples as her mind reeled, the ache transforming into a pounding force that left her head feeling heavy, her vision blurring further with each passing second.
Li and Lo observed her intently, noticing the faint tremble in her stance, the tension in her body betraying her condition. They exchanged a worried glance before standing, stepping closer to her.
"Fire Lord Azula," they said in unison, their voices laced with concern. "Are you okay?"
Azula tried to brush off their question with a dismissive wave, her usual sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. But as she opened her mouth to answer, the world around her spun violently, as if the floor were slipping from beneath her feet. Her vision darkened at the edges, colors smearing and warping as her legs gave way, and she felt herself tipping forward, unable to catch her balance.
"I'm… I'm fine…" she managed to whisper before her legs gave way beneath her, her vision darkening completely as she collapsed to the floor, the faint sound of voices calling her name fading into silence.
It was afternoon when Iroh, Jeong Jeong, and several members of the White Lotus escorted Governor Uruso to the palace's eastern side. They moved through the halls in silence, stepping out onto the marble steps that overlooked the eastern tram road. From this vantage, they could see the Fire Nation troops blocking the road, their ranks drawn up in a solid, unyielding formation. Although the soldiers had weapons ready, they remained still, watching the palace grounds with an almost eerie calm.
A heavy silence fell over the group as they regarded the blockade. On the opposite side of the palace, the battle for control of the western tram road was ongoing, with the Fire Nation forces slowly reclaiming territory and pushing the White Lotus resistance back toward the palace walls. But here, on the eastern side, the forces simply watched, their stillness as unnerving as the battle itself.
Governor Uruso glanced nervously at the unmoving soldiers, his brow furrowing as he turned to face Iroh and Jeong Jeong. A hint of triumph crept into his voice as he said, "See? They have stopped their attack and have surrendered to you."
Jeong Jeong, standing beside Iroh, raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "Hmm, right. They've stopped the attacks, Governor, but for a whole different reason."
The governor's confidence wavered, and he frowned. "What are you talking about? They are clearly following my orders."
At this, Iroh finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying a weight that made even the governor hesitate. "It appears to me, Governor," he said, his gaze fixed on the Fire Nation blockade, "that you are no longer in charge."
Governor Uruso's expression faltered, irritation breaking through his veneer of confidence. "Of course I'm in charge. What makes you think I'm not?"
With a small, measured gesture, Iroh inclined his head toward the gathered troops. "That," he said simply.
Uruso turned, squinting back at the Fire Nation forces. Just as his gaze fell upon them, a massive fireball ignited in their midst, hurling toward them at an alarming speed. His eyes went wide with terror, and he stumbled backward, shrieking, "Ah, save me!" His hands flailed as he grabbed onto Iroh's arm, clinging to him in a panic.
But Iroh's expression was unmoved, his gaze still fixed on the approaching flames. Just as the fireball drew close, Jeong Jeong stepped forward, extending his arm. With a swift, powerful movement, he unleashed a blast of fire from his own hand, meeting the incoming fireball in midair. The two attacks collided in a brilliant explosion, fire and smoke filling the sky above them.
When the smoke cleared, the governor blinked, his face pale as he released Iroh's arm. He stared at the remaining tendrils of smoke dissipating into the air, and Jeong Jeong looked at him with an expression of quiet satisfaction. "Well, Governor," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm, "there's your answer."
The governor's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, and then his face twisted in irritation. "This is treason!" he sputtered as he straightened, glaring back toward the troops. "I will have someone's head for this."
Jeong Jeong exchanged a glance with Iroh, who turned without a word and began moving back toward the palace. The rest of the group followed, leaving the governor to catch up, his irritation mounting as they walked.
As they moved quickly through the palace grounds, fireballs periodically crashed against the nearby walls, a relentless barrage from the Fire Nation forces. Members of the White Lotus intercepted and deflected the attacks with practiced precision, each blast erupting in midair before it could reach them. The sounds of battle grew louder with each explosion, filling the corridors as they neared the palace's inner chambers.
Iroh's voice was low but clear as he spoke to Jeong Jeong, his tone carrying a note of grim certainty. "It's just as I suspected," he said. "There's been a change in leadership in the Fire Nation, and not in a good way." He cast a look toward Jeong Jeong. "Our chance of getting that quick victory has disappeared."
Jeong Jeong nodded slowly, understanding the weight of Iroh's words. "What about your nephew?" he asked, his voice filled with both concern and hope.
A flicker of resolve crossed Iroh's face, and he nodded. "He will come, along with his friends," he replied. He stopped for a moment, turning to face Jeong Jeong directly. "But they'll need assistance to get here," he continued, his tone steady but intense. "And I know of no better escort than you."
Jeong Jeong's eyes widened, and he let out a small, incredulous huff. He knew exactly where this conversation was headed, and a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth as he registered Iroh's request. Around them, fireballs continued to crash, but Jeong Jeong only shook his head, a hint of dry humor in his voice. "Unfortunately, I'm wounded," he said with a smirk, "and I cannot leave my position."
Iroh met his friend's gaze, a knowing smile softening his face. "Please, Jeong Jeong," he replied, his tone touched with gentle amusement. "Soon we'll lose the tram station, and it would be unwise to be trapped here together, however appealing it might be."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the sounds of battle echoing around them. Explosions shook the walls, punctuating the quiet tension between the two friends. Jeong Jeong looked at Iroh, the unspoken understanding passing between them as clear as any words could have been. Finally, Jeong Jeong nodded, his expression resigned but determined.
"Fine," he said, his voice laced with both reluctance and resolve. "But you'd better still be here when we return."
With a solemn nod, Iroh reached out, grasping Jeong Jeong's wrist in a firm, final greeting.
Special end-note for my fanfiction readers:
This is just a reminder, uniquely for my fanfiction readers, I see a lot of you people come visit only when there's a new chapter and then leave immediately. Please, I would really appreciate it if you left a review or some feedback. Helps me improve the story and so fourth. Come on, this website is like a ghost town compared to Archive Of Our Own.