Chapter Text
Prince zuko was dead.
Three years ago he died, his untimely end witnessed by hundreds in the stadium.
It was a poetic death, some said. A young boy, mirror copy of his father, the man to end his life, surrounded by a lotus of the very element that created him as it seared through and burned his flesh.
As Prince Zuko’s screams of anguish rung through the stage, multiple voices begun to harmonise his song of pain with celebratory cheers, still continuing even after the boy’s pleads died down.
Prince Zuko’s charred body was carried off stage by the arms of palace healers that were human enough to feel pity for the small child, the boys uncle following them in desperation.
It was that night that he was pronounced dead by the Firelord himself. The murderer not only admitted his crime, but took pride in it and wore it like a badge of honour.
Some say, however that Prince Zuko never died. Rumours of him surviving his father’s flames were scarce, yet they were there. Very few speculated publicly, but those that did were so sure that the boy was alive that even the threat of execution wasn’t enough to stop their abhorrent speech.
It didn’t matter what people said, however, because prince zuko is dead.
He spoke out and therefore received a request from Agni himself to be punished, an embrace from fire and ash as his soul rose up with the smoke of the incinerated corpse of his young body, for the whole stadium to cheer and bid farewell to.
So as a 16 year old boy sat at the back of a bar, discreetly lighting a cigarette from the bag he’d stolen only an hour prior from a rich assailant, no one took any notice.
He took a long draw, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs and gather all the stress from the day, all being released at once as he exhaled the smoke, a relaxing sensation embracing his body almost immediately.
The boy sighed.
He had been on the road for three years now, recently celebrating his 16th on the solstice by breaking into a Fire nation stronghold and stealing their finest liquor.
During his raid, he’d also killed four soldiers, three in an accidental explosion and one in a satisfyingly aggressive sword fight, leaving him with a nasty scar on his knee as a birthday present.
‘Not like one extra scar could do any harm though’
He’d thought to himself bitterly, allowing his free hand to graze at the rough skin of deep red scarring that loomed over his eye and stretched back to his mangled ear. He took another long draw of smoke, grumbling in annoyance at the nearing end of his cigarette.
“hey kid, wanna drink ?”
Slightly taken back at the notion of being acknowledged, the boy nodded, his shaggy black hair falling over his eyes as he did so.
“what d’you want”
”got spiced rum?”
The old man scoffed in disbelief.
”bit ‘eavy for a kid your age, eh?”
Annoyance begun to rise slowly in the boy’s body at the man’s comment, so he rolled his eyes and narrowly glared straight forward at the man.
He seemed to quickly acknowledge the teenager’s irritated response and chuckled
”’aight well we don’t ‘ave any of that left. But since you want somethin’ heavy, how ‘bout a whiskey?”
A simple nod was enough to get the man to leave. The bar was small and not very crowded, only occupied by a few small groups of middle aged locals talking loudly between each other. In an attempt to dissipate the growing migraine in his head, the teenager closed his eyes and allowed the noisy shout of his thoughts to take over. It was working, until a certain word caught his ears.
“I told ya, the Avatar is back! I seen ‘im with me own two eyes i did! Small airbender kid with ‘is two friends.”
The Avatar.
A loud ringing ricocheted through his ears and his mouth went dry. Blood seeped from the palms of his hands as he dug his finger nails into them to stop himself from setting something on fire.
The Avatar is back.
A perfectly timed glass of whiskey was placed on the table in front of him by the same man, who didn’t seem to take notice of the 16 year old hyperventilating in front of him.
“You sure ‘Diago ? couldn’t this be another one of them dragon situations you find yourself in?”
The suspicion in the bartender’s tone gave the boy a chance to recollect himself and allow logic to come to him again.
Of course. How could he be so gullible? It was impossible. The Avatar was dead, he couldn’t be back.
‘but you’re still living’
That same bitter voice pointed out again.
Stubbornly, the black haired teenager decided to ignore the irony and put out the remains of his cigarette in the ceramic green ash tray in front of him.
“‘Aye i saw ‘im! I’m tellin’ ya. ‘Kid was bending air and had the tattoos. He even ‘ad one of them big bisons with ‘im. Saw it fly too. I was fully sober, this ain’t a dragon situation”
Seemingly unconvinced by the villager’s statement, the bartender raised his arms in a sarcastic manner,
“Long live the avatar, master of all elements and keeper of balance. please bring an end to our suffering and end the war in all your child glory”
Sarcasm all but oozed in the man’s tone, making the villager begin to bark back about a defensive statement, once again trying to prove himself.
Cold glass met his fingers and the cold liquid burned as it slid down his throat, causing a warm feeling to spread in his belly and a gentle buzz to fill his head as he shot back the drink in one go. In a rushed yet slightly delayed manner, he threw a few copper pieces on the table as he slung his swords over his back and grabbed his bag, ignoring the continuous sounds of the two men’s argument and slipping away unnoticed into the cool air of the night.
The avatar was back.
Breathe, Zuko. This doesn’t change anything.
Zuko tried to calm himself down as he walked, imagining his Uncle’s reassurance beside him as he paced. But unfortunately that same bitter tone returned,
It does change things. It changes everything. Because the day Prince Zuko died, the Blue Spirit was born, and Zuko wasn’t sure how long it’d be before his past would catch up to finish him off.