They say Crown Prince Iroh's siege of Ba Sing Se ended in broken earth and searing fire, but the city was not captured and the Fire Nation Army retreated. The whispers of soldiers present that day tell of white flames that had erupted to guard the breach in the city's formerly impenetrable wall. A few rattled souls even claim to have seen dragons within the fires. They say the wall of white fire had grown ever wider as its intense heat continually crumbled the stone of its improvised hearth. For two days, the flames burned as casualties were evacuated from the battlefield, the Fire Nation's own Prince Lu Ten being the last among them to be carried away from the devastation. No one knows quite what happened to the young prince during the final push of the siege, only that he was the cause for its end.
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Zuko stares at the white fire held by a hand of the wrong shape.
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"I thought I might find you out here!" Iroh calls, trying to hide his worry behind false cheer. Even he can tell he is doing a poor job of it, but the last eight days have worn on him as the days following his wife's passing had. That Lu Ten yet breathes is a mercy, unexplained and miraculous, but a cloud hangs over the young man and refuses to disperse regardless of the distance put between them and the warfront. His worry only spikes higher as he draws close enough to see more than his son's back. "You shouldn't be bending," he chides gently, folding Lu Ten's hand in both of his own and snuffing the blasphemous white flames that have replaced his boy's healthy yellow fire.
"I'm fine," he grumbles and withdraws from Iroh's hold.
"The doctor urged restraint until your chi has a chance to recover," Iroh insists, "You maintained a curtain of flame without break for more than seven-hundred-and-twenty degrees, to say nothing of the following three days that you slept through."
Lu Ten scowls and looks away, hunching into his cloak like a taciturn child. It would be less concerning if his son had ever been a taciturn child, or teenager, or man before this last campaign.
"I've already recovered!" Lu Ten argues.
"No, you have not!" Iroh snaps back, fear reaching a breaking point inside him. Lu Ten looks at him with wide, startled eyes as he continues, "These last three days you have been sullen and angry, restless in a manner I have never known you to be." He cups his son's face. "I cannot imagine what must have happened at the front for it to affect you so! Whatever it was, I am willing to help you come to terms with it, but the fact remains that you have not been yourself, Son. You need rest!"
Lu Ten flinches and his mouth works soundlessly for a moment. And then, "I, I'm sorry." The younger prince pulls away, one hand brushing over the horrific wounds-turned-scars hidden by his shirt in what seems to be a wholly subconscious movement.
Iroh has been trying not to think too deeply about what too-swiftly healed injuries might point to, particularly as the new scars are a collection of matching cauterizations, front-to-back. Lu Ten's missing cuirass had been found in one the most fatal areas of the last battle, still skewered through on spears of earthbent stone.
Back safely on the flagship headed directly for Caldera, Lu Ten meets his gaze and finds entirely new ways to terrify him. "I am, but the son you knew died at Ba Sing Se and I can't be who you want me to be," Lu Ten tells him, "And... I'm sorry for what will happen when we get home."
The breath freezes in his lungs. "Lu Ten?" His son had been confused and disoriented when he'd woken from his prolonged sleep. The eyes that stare back at him today are not the eyes of a confused man, but Iroh finds it does little to comfort him.
Lu Ten shakes his head as his lips thin. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "I need to train."
"Lu Ten!" Iroh snaps, but his son ignores him, bowing over the sign of the flame before shrugging out of his cloak and striding away.
"Clear the deck!" Lu Ten bellows without sparing a glance for the men scrambling to obey.
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He firebends at every opportunity, but the bubbling, restless energy persists no matter how hard he trains in an attempt to burn through the excess chi. The men are unfailingly quick to clear the center of the deck for him, but there are always some who linger along the edges of the bow and superstructure to watch him practice.
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"We've reached port, sir. The men are ready to disembark," Colonel Ichiro reports, ostensibly to Iroh, as the general in charge of the campaign -- failed or not -- and ranking army officer on the vessel, but neither man is unaware of Lu Ten's place standing at Iroh shoulder, rather than with his men as a captain.
"Proceed, Colonel," Iroh orders.
He doesn't miss how Ichiro's eyes slide to Lu Ten, nor Lu Ten's confirming nod before the man spins on his heel and presents the order at volume to the assembled troops to begin disembarking.
It's been an ongoing problem with the troops since the end of the siege. More and more of the men are looking to Lu Ten to lead rather than Iroh. It's caused no shortage of squabbles among the lower ranks and Iroh would do more to fix the issue if he were not so occupied fretting over Lu Ten's persistently odd behavior. Ironically enough, Lu Ten himself appears to be the only man aboard who remains oblivious to the informal shift in the brigade's authority structure.
The breakdown in clear hierarchy has been more or less manageable here on the ship, especially as Lu Ten has been in consistent agreement with Iroh's orders, but the implications for the nation are troubling. Iroh is not deaf to the scuttlebutt running up and down the ship, claims of Agni's will expressed through flames of a rare color and ferocity. If trained soldiers are so quick to alter their allegiances, it can only be assumed that the citizenry will do so that much faster, and Azulon has never suffered a threat to his title or power for long.
If Lu Ten is careless, he could unwittingly catch the Fire Lord's ire -- whether or not a civil war erupts under him as suddenly as his fire had brought a halt to the siege.
"Please, Son, do not flaunt your flames in front of the Fire Lord or at court," he begs once the sound of marching boots on steel will mask his words from listening ears.
Lu Ten frowns at him, and for a moment Iroh thinks he has been misunderstood. "I'm not a coward," his son tells him in irritation, proving he is less oblivious to his situation than Iroh had assumed from his behavior.
"Exercising discretion in your actions in accordance with fealty to the Fire Lord is not cowardice," Iroh argues desperately.
His son scoffs. "It is if the Fire Lord does not rule under Agni's blessing."
"Watch your tongue!" Iroh snaps, nerves fraying, "Words like those spark wars!"
Lu Ten shakes his head and says, "I'm not going to involve the men. They've had a long deployment and deserve to go home to their families."
This is not the reassurance Lu Ten seems to believe it is.
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He's not sure what face he makes upon seeing Grandfather and Mother waiting on the pier to greet Iroh and him, but he gets the feeling it's the wrong one.
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Azula isn't able to readily identify what the expression on Cousin Lu Ten's face is meant to be, but it is none of the ones she had been expecting. It is not relief to be home. It is not shame for returning from a failed campaign. It is not anger at being denied the glory of conquest. It certainly isn't that sappy joy for family that he and Uncle Iroh usually persist in. Well, for the family members they deign to consider worthy of liking, anyway. Mostly that amounts to just Mother and Zuzu these days, with a healthy deference for Fire Lord Azulon.
Then Lu Ten's gaze lands on her and something else flits behind his eyes too quickly to be named but he doesn't look away. Azula blinks back at him slowly and waits. It isn't often that her older cousin remembers her existence.
Iroh and Lu Ten's arrival at the end of the gangplank marks the end of her staring competition with Cousin Lu Ten. Both men bow to Grandfather and greet, "Fire Lord Azulon."
"Crown Prince Iroh, Prince Lu Ten," the old man returns as Mother, Zuzu, and Azula bow to the two higher ranked royals, "You're looking better than the reports led me to believe, Grandson."
Another odd expression passes over Lu Ten's face before he says, "I'm sure the doctors' initial examinations were dire --"
"An understatement," Uncle Iroh mutters lowly.
Lu Ten's expression tightens but he continues as if he hadn't heard his father's amendment, "-- but I've felt well enough over the last few days."
"Curious," Azulon says as he strokes his long whiskers, "I am looking forward to your debriefing."
"Right..." Lu Ten says, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'll be back to give my report before dinner," he tells the Fire Lord as if he is the one who gets to dictate the time of the meeting.
Grandfather stares at the willful prince in shock.
"Lu Ten!" Iroh hisses but is once more ignored.
"I have some errands I need to do first," Lu Ten goes on before glancing over at where Zuzu and she are standing off to Mother's side, "Would you like to come with me?"
"Where are we going?" Dum-Dum asks eagerly, without so much as a thought given to weighing the options in front of him.
There is the slightest hesitation before Lu Ten traps her idiot brother in a familiar headlock. Zuzu squawks and puts up a pretense of struggle but his laughter undercuts his arguments to be set free. "You'll find out as we go," Lu Ten answers the youngest prince. He holds a hand out to her and simply asks, "Azula?"
She hadn't been expecting the invitation to extend to her, given how her cousin typically looks through her as if she is invisible. Or, perhaps, simply that he wishes she was.
Grandfather doesn't look happy, but neither does he appear dangerously unhappy, his shrewd eyes considering as they reevaluate the errant prince. Uncle looks caught between fear and resignation. How long has Cousin Lu Ten been acting counter to all of the most important court lessons?
Mother's expression betrays her unease.
Azula makes her decision with more spite than is probably wise.
She accepts Lu Ten's offered hand.
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They're so young. And tiny. And Azula's surprise at being included, being wanted, makes him itch to raze the palace to the ground before he restrains the irrational desire.
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Zuko watches wide-eyed as Lu Ten's very proper and light grasp of Azula's hand transforms into a very improper swoop and toss, complete with two separate shrieks from Azula (The first had been from surprise, but the second was a sound of pure outrage.) that ends with his terrifying little sister sitting perched on his older cousin's shoulder. Lu Ten only laughs as Azula digs pointy fingernails into the bracer covering the arm secured over her thighs.
Lu Ten is even braver than Zuko had thought. He can't imagine any Earth Kingdom soldier could be scarier than an angry Azula.
"Alright, that's settled," Lu Ten declares, throwing his free arm around Zuko's shoulder with an unrestrained grin that Zuko can't help but match, "Let's go."
Zuko falls into step with his cousin easily, only a bit shorter than the other prince despite their age gap. Lu Ten's arm remains warm around him as the returned royal wordlessly guides him toward their undisclosed destination.
"I hate you," Azula hisses as soon as there is some distance between them and the older members of their family. The unearned height of her location allows her to loom over both of them like an irate pygmy puma.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Lu Ten rolls the shoulder she's sitting on and smirks up at her. "That's alright, Zula."
"That is not my name."
Lu Ten ignores her objection. "I love you either way."
Zuko doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on his sister's face before. He's not entirely sure what it is.
"You're as idiodic as my brother," Azula finally huffs.
"Hey!" Zuko yells, not sure if he's more insulted for himself or for their cousin.
Lu Ten, for his part, stumbles and then laughs again.
"Don't you dare drop me!"
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He doesn't know what to feel when, after a trip to the capital temple and then back into the city proper to buy street food for lunch, the children tell him why Ozai hadn't been at the pier to welcome the two princes upon their homecoming.
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"Father's fire attacked him," Zuzu whispers in unease and Azula is once again forced to lower her opinion of her foolish older brother. She elbows him roughly in the ribs to shut him up before he says anything else that shouldn't be discussed outside of the palace. Or inside of it, for that matter. "Hey!"
"Shut up, Dum-Dum!" Azula hisses back, reaching up to readjust the hood of his borrowed apprentice sage cloak before it can fall completely off his head and expose their identities to the peasants surrounding them. The cloaks are not a particularly good disguise -- far too much fabric hanging off of too small frames -- but no one has questioned them yet.
Lu Ten guides both of them down the street a ways and then into a vacant alley. "We're going up," the elder prince announces, tossing his empty meat skewer aside and then offering interlocked hands as a foothold to boost the siblings up to the roof of the building behind him.
"That's littering," Azula observes, just to be difficult, before flicking her own skewer in the same direction. The peasant cow-chicken had tasted better than she wants to admit. She calculates the distance between the presented launching point and the edge of the target roof before pushing past her dithering brother in a sprint.
"Hey!"
She doesn't land as gracefully as she might have preferred. Zuko lands beside her a few seconds later and handles himself better than she would have thought he might, given her own performance. Almost suspiciously so, in fact. They both watch as Lu Ten attempts some kind of double-wall kick that he clearly knows better in theory than in practice, but he successfully joins them on the roof. For a given level of success. He manages to catch the eave and pulls himself up the rest of the way, at any rate.
Lu Ten rolls a wrist and flexes his fingers a few times with a light frown and then looks up at them. "What do you mean Ozai's fire attacked him?"
Azula slaps a hand over his brother's mouth and ignores his indignant struggles. She glances around them, but sees no one. Of course, they are up on the roofline now. How many people should she expect to see? There are probably fewer listening ears here than in the palace walls. Probably.
She keeps her voice quiet as she says, "Father's firebending turns on him whenever he attempts to use it." She releases her brother but her eyes are trained intently on her cousin. "The healers haven't been able to find the problem. Father has been on bedrest for thirteen days."
"Thirteen? That's --" Lu Ten cuts himself short. Again, Azula finds she has difficulty reading his expression. It's a troubled one, but beyond that she can't tell what emotions are underpinning it.
"That's what?" Zuko asks, thankfully clever enough to pick up on the fact that he should keep his volume low, "Lu Ten?"
Lu Ten sighs and says, "I may as well tell you now. Everyone will know soon enough." He pauses briefly. "Thirteen days ago, Agni made himself known to me. I'm to deliver a message to the Fire Lord."
Azula looks up at her cousin in skepticism and crosses her arms. Does he really think she's naive enough to be put off with spirit tales?
"What's the message?" her older brother, who apparently is that naive, asks immediately.
Azula rolls her eyes and is about to inform Zuko that he is being stupid again when Lu Ten lifts a hand between them and summons a flame. A white flame.
Cousin Lu Ten commands Agni's Flames.
Azula gapes.
Lu Ten offers them both a wry, humorless smile. "One he won't want to hear, or anyone else at court, for that matter. The two of you should stay well away from the throne room when we return."
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It's time to face destiny. He really wishes he had a reason to believe this instance was going to be any less of a catastrophe than facing destiny usually ends up being for him.
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Zuk-- Lu Ten climbs the palace steps with a too-young cousin on either side of him and three cloaks thrown over his shoulder to be returned to the sages. Upon passing through the grand doors of the main entrance, they find Mother and Uncle --
That is, Aunt Ursa and, and Father --
It hurts. It hurts that he's taken his cousin's place. He doesn't deserve this. Iroh has been so worried, ever since that first moment, and he doesn't know that Zuko is an imposter, and he killed Lu Ten, and it's all a lie except that it's real, and now --
"Peace, child mine," says the warm voice that no one else ever hears. It claims to be Agni. Zu-- Lu Ten believes the claim. Too many otherwise impossible things have happened for him not to believe it. "Lu Ten of Second Fire's death preceded your placement in this time. You are not responsible for ending his life."
Lu Ten whispers under his breath, barely moving his lips as he argues, "Iroh deserves to mourn his loss! My cousin deserves to be mourned!"
"Iroh of Second Fire does mourn," Agni observes, "though it is fair to note that he does not understand all that he is mourning. As for your cousin, are you not grieving for his loss?"
"It isn't right!" he insists.
"In an imperfect existence, 'not right' is sometimes the best that can be achieved."
Lu Ten doesn't agree but he lets the matter drop. Now isn't the time for a prolonged argument about ethics with a great spirit.
"Zuko, Azula, come along," Ursa says, "Your uncle and cousin need to meet with the Fire Lord now."
Azula glances at him briefly before obeying. Zuko lingers longer, staring up at him with an uncertain frown until Lu Ten nudges him.
"Go on. Go teach Azula how to feed the turtle-ducks or something," Lu Ten says, hoping it sounds teasing and successfully hides his anxieties over his imminent meeting with the nation's leader and destiny.
"I don't need to be taught how to feed turtle-ducks!" Azula seethes.
Zuko looks at his little sister and then back at Lu Ten. The boy leans back and crosses his arms before stating, "I'm not letting Azula kill the turtle-ducks."
"Ugh! I don't want anything to do with your stupid turtle-ducks!" Azula sneers. It is probably only her mother's presence that keeps Azula from using fire to back up her contempt.
Princess Ursa claps her hands loudly twice. "Enough!" she commands in open displeasure, "The both of you are going to your rooms until you can speak nicely to each other."
Good, that means they'll both be safely out of the way for the rest of the day.
The young prince and princess dutifully follow after their mother, making faces at each other behind her back.
Iroh waits to speak until after the three other royals have departed. "I hope your errands were successful," he says, pointedly glancing at the pile of cloaks draped over Lu Ten's shoulder, "The Fire Lord has been waiting for our debriefing. Are you ready?" The words are a mild censure of his actions, all things considered. The stressed lines carving themselves ever deeper into the older man's face are far more effective.
Lu Ten releases a slow breath and nods.
"Yes."
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The sages meet them just outside of the throne room. One collects the borrowed robes with a too-deep bow before leaving. The remaining sages are quick to fall into formation behind him as they follow him to meet with the Fire Lord.
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Putting off an audience with the Fire Lord only to bring an unannounced contingent of Fire Sages with him to the throne room is a foreboding start to their debriefing, particularly given some of the ominous things his son has said over the course of their return to Caldera. Iroh can't imagine how his son could leave him feeling any more stressed than he is at this moment, and yet... He is undeniably waiting for the second boot to drop. Surely Lu Ten has not arranged this show with the sages only to stay silent. The tension in the room is unbearable. Whether from his son or the sages, something is coming.
The crown prince wonders if Lu Ten is purposefully fraying every nerve that he has.
"Prince Iroh, Prince Lu Ten," Azulon acknowledges in a cool, aloof tone. He does not acknowledge the uninvited sages bowing in ordered arcs behind the younger prince. "Please, give your report on the Ba Sing Se Siege."
"I carry a message from Agni," Lu Ten says, discarding the Fire Lord's order and rising directly from his kowtow to stand alone amongst the kneeling figures in the room. Iroh has to resist the urge to yank the young man back down into a respectful posture. Lu Ten is not a child anymore and he has made it clear that he will not so easily yield to his father's corrections as he once did. Twin fires of white bloom from Lu Ten's upturned hands.
The curtain of fire flickers, likely from surprise if Iroh were to guess, but Azulon's voice is strong as he says, "Then speak, Prince Lu Ten."
Iroh's heart beats against his breast like a festival drum. Will he be forced to choose? It would not be a difficult choice. Azulon has always been a distant father while Iroh has instead chosen to love his son with his whole heart. No, the choice would be easy, but the aftermath of defying the Fire Lord could be disastrous for them both. Depending on what happens next, Iroh may not be able to save his son.
"You are to end the war immediately. Withdraw the troops and secure the territory lines as they stand. Agni is forbidding the expansion of the Fire Nation's borders until such a time as a True Herald of Agni returns to the throne as Fire Lord."
Fire Lord Azulon's voice is cold as he asks, "...Are you implying that I am not Agni's Herald? Would you claim the title yourself, Prince Lu Ten?" The old man tisks. "By what trick do you produce those white flames?"
Iroh's fingers itch to bend, to throw up a shield around his son, to grab the young man and run.
Lu Ten's breaths take on the deeper rhythm of sustained bending. "No tricks," he answers the Fire Lord and continues, "Azulon, Iroh, and Ozai have all been judged by Agni and deemed unworthy. If I were to falter now, I would likewise be deemed unworthy."
"Enough. Cease these senseless claims and recant your lies before I remove you from succession!"
"These are not lies!" Lu Ten insists, "Please, Grandfather, accept Agni's mercy! He will allow you and Iroh to sit the throne if you will only listen!"
"So, I am to be made the puppet-king of my own grandson? And Iroh after me?" Azulon asks. "I think not. No, Sozin sought to create a world under the banner of the Fire Nation's greatness and ensure the prosperity of future generations. I'll not let my father's vision die because of treasonous claims made by a prince who has forgotten his place.
"Iroh! Escort your son to the palace physicians!" Fire Lord Azulon orders, "Perhaps they will find cause for this impudent behavior that the military doctors missed."
For the briefest of moments, Iroh is lightheaded with relief even as he scrambles to his feet to lead his son away. "Yes, Fire Lo--"
"Grandfather! Please, recon--"
"Silence!" Azulon roars, "You will speak no more of these blasphemous lies!"
Lu Ten's fire flares and twines over itself, rushing through the room and consuming all the other fires and their fuel as it moves past them. Soon, the only remaining light in the throne room comes from a dragon entirely composed of white fire.
The fire-dragon's long body fills the room, twisting around its other occupants and supporting a winded Prince Lu Ten with one well-placed coil. The dragon stares down the shaken Fire Lord and says in a rumbling voice that is felt as much as heard, "If you will not heed the words of my herald, then you will heed mine, Azulon of Second Fire."
Agni.
The dragon of white fire is Agni.
Iroh feels faint.
"Your unwillingness to listen has cost you," Agni intones, "Your reign is over, and with it Sozin's War. Neither of your sons will inherit the throne. Instead Lu Ten the Reforged will be crowned as Fire Lord and Herald to see my will imparted upon my lands and people."
Azulon makes a choked noise of protest, or maybe it is shock, as one giant talon of fire sears through the old man's topknot, unceremoniously relieving him of the Fire Lord's headpiece. The stink of burning hair wafts through the room as the topknot is consumed by white fire to leave behind just the golden flame, free of blemish or sign of its previous owner. Agni pinches the ornament between two talons almost delicately and holds it before his chosen herald until Lu Ten raises his hands to catch the crown that it is literally dropped into his possession.
"I will allow you to keep your life, because it is the desire of my herald to offer you mercy," Agni says, "Do not make a nuisance of yourself in your retirement. I am displeased when I must revoke gifts to my heralds."
"Y-yes, Agni," Azulon croaks. The spirit's warning is certainly clear enough.
And then the dragon rounds on Iroh.
One large claw moves toward his face and Lu Ten makes an attempt to intercede, "Wait --" His son is cut off from him by a loop of the dragon's body. The claw of fire does not burn as it comes to rest on his forehead, but it is more than a little disconcerting to be suddenly face-to-face with his patron spirit, let alone in the context of all that he has just heard and witnessed.
"Iroh of Second Fire," Agni addresses him. Iroh suppresses a shudder as he realizes he hears the voice not with his ears now, but rather, his mind. "You have been found unworthy of my heraldship, but there is yet a task I have for you. Support Lu Ten the Reforged and live with an open heart. Do this for me and the familial ties you desire will come to you, one by one. You shall become father and cherished uncle to many young ones beyond the limits of shared blood. Though you will never take the throne yourself, you will guide the next generation. You will help raise leaders from children. See to it that the lessons they learn from you are just and honorable."
Iroh swallows past a dry throat. "Yes, Agni."
Agni does not offer any further words. The dragon of fire flies up to collide with the center of the roof, sparks raining down and extinguishing themselves above head-height.
"Un-- Father! Are you, are you well?" Lu Ten rushes to ask as soon as Agni is no longer keeping them separate from each other.
"I'm fine, Lu Ten, I'm fine!" Iroh assures, cupping his boy's face, "Are you?"
"Yes."
"Good," Iroh sighs. He can't help but cringe when he catches a glimpse of the crown still held by his son, reflective surface glinting in the fires held aloft by the sages who have remained as silent witnesses of the events that unfolded here. No one outside the throne room knows it yet, but the world has just changed drastically. "Go to the temple and arrange your coronation with the sages. I need to see to your grandfather." Hopefully, Azulon will let him provide assistance rather than fight him in pride and shame.
Lu Ten turns to look past the missing wall of flame to the shellshocked ex-Fire Lord. "But shouldn't I --"
"Please, Lu Ten. For me."
"...Alright."
"Thank you."
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His coronation is at sunrise the very next day. Azulon and Ozai do not attend, both confined to bedrest for an indefinite amount of time. Whispers and rumors spread like wildfires across the Fire Nation, and Earth Kingdom, and finally to the Water Tribes. No matter what stories he hears, they never manage to live up to the absurdities of the truth. In that way, some things haven't changed between this life and his last.
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They say Fire Lord Lu Ten usurped his grandfather's throne, skipping over his father's claim entirely in his ambition. The sages who bore witness to the fateful meeting between grandfather and grandson speak of white fire and great spirits to all willing to listen, but who trusts the words of men that would facilitate a coup? The only thing anyone can agree on, is that two weeks after Fire Lord Lu Ten took the throne, Fire Nation troops retreated and made no further advancements. The world spins on, but the people wait with bated breath for what will happen next.
A month following the unexplained retreat, the Fire Nation breaks its silence.