Chapter 2 - The Dream

I

The Dream
 
            The room was small and rather cramped; or rather it would have been if the only furniture hadn’t been a table and two chairs.  The first, a rather large padded armchair held an older man.  White hair and bags under his eyes, Shan wasn’t nearly as old as he looked, but he was old enough.  The second chair, a ladder backed thing made of wood, with no covering of any kind, held a young man.  A Prince by birth just beginning to learn what he would need to know in life.  His long black hair was held in a ponytail, the rest of his head shaved completely bald.  Prince Zuko sat poring over a sheet of notes he had just written, waiting for the ink to dry so he could start on the next page.
 
            “Vierus!” Shan said holding up a Vile of white powder.  “Colorless, odorless, tasteless, and fatal when mixed in the drinks of it’s victims.”
            “Is there no cure?” Zuko asked a grimace twisting across his fourteen-year-old face.
“Ahhh, why must you tire me with such questions!” the tutor frowned, “Yes there is a cure.  Though it won’t work unless it is brewed fresh.
            “That is not your concern however.  My job is to teach you the poisons that you might avoid them, not to trouble my self in pointless attempts to remember antidotes.
            “Now Vierus works slowly.  The drinker will experience a sore throat and a sever cough, much like an extremely bad cold.  Both will get steadily worst until the victim develops a fever.  The fever will not break however.  The body will slowly burn up from the inside out until the victim dies.
            “Are you getting this prince Zuko?”
            “Yes sir.”
            “Good!  Now Vierus works incredibly slow for a poison.  The effects are felt over a course of two weeks.  Meaning that the poison is vary rarely seen for what it truly is until it is too late.  Most think it nothing more than a common illness.  When mixed with wine however the time period of the poison is shortened to one week.  Something to do with the alcohol mixing with it . . .”
 
            The morning lessons were cut short by a terrible cry echoing down the hall and through the open door.  “Take your hands off me!”
            Student and teacher alike rushed out of the room to find Mistress Kiata, Zuko’s old nurse and a woman whom he loved dearly, being dragged across the floor by two of the empyreal guard.  Infuriated Zuko rushed forward.
            “Let her go! I command that you release her!”
            “I’m sorry my prince,” One of the Guards started, “but the orders for her arrest come from the Fire Lord himself.”
            “My Father . . .But surly he wouldn’t . . .” Kiata, who was about the age of Zuko’s Uncle Iroh, looked at him sadly.  She wasn’t afraid for herself, that Zuko picked up on immediately, but she was freighted about something.  That only doubled Zuko’s resolve to see her set free.
            The only reason any one was brought before Zuko’s father with out first requesting an audience, was on a charge of treason.  And it clicked. Kiata had been closeting her self in her room lately, something Zuko had attributed to her getting older, but others might think . . . “It’s not possible, this woman has done nothing at all to . . .”
            “My Prince you may accompany us,” The guard snapped.  “But we can do nothing other than what the Fire Lord has ordered of us!”  Zuko nodded and followed them down the hall, leaving Shan behind.
 
 
            The Hall of the Fire Lord was in all cases magnificent.  Tall marble columns supported the vast vaulted ceiling.  Windows on all sides of the tower room not only let in a huge amount of light, but also afforded a beautiful view of the City below.  It was all Zuko could do not to stop and stare out at the horizon.
            He forced himself to look straight ahead to the end of the Hall where his father sat on his thrown.  The General Iroh stood on the Fire lord’s left, and an adviser on the right.  The fire lord sat with the tips of his fingers pressed together and a frown on his lips.
            “My son, why have you come here?”
            “Perhaps brother,” General Iroh interrupted, “he has heard of the charges placed on the woman, and came to find the truth of them for himself.”
            “If that is true, be satisfied son, that the charge is indeed treason, and leave!”
            “If it pleases you father I would argue on her behalf.”
            “Nephew,” Iroh began, “It would be far better if you . . .”
            “Do not forget who is in charge here Iroh,” the Fire lord growled, “or have you decided that your age allows you to overstep your place!”
            “When our Father died, I was out on the far boarder leading our armies against the Earth Kingdom.  By the time I returned you were already two years into your reign, and no one could contest your claim on the crown.  Had I returned inside two weeks of his death rather than two years, perhaps I would have argued the point.  No Ozai, I do not want your throne.  I only seek to send the boy away before something foolish is done.”
            “He is my son Iroh, not[/i] yours.  And you would do well to remember that!  Zuko stays!”
            Iroh took a step back into his corner spreading his hands in a gesture of peace.  Ozai nodded, and snapped his fingers.  The adviser stepped forward, and opening a scroll, began to read the charges.
 
            “Lady, you are brought here on the charge of treason.  You are charged on four counts.  One, that you have helped to sneak Earth kingdom representatives into the city.  Two you have seen to it that they have had access to every material they could want, said materials having been used to sabotage our resources.  Three that you have helped spies into this very palace.  And four, that you your self, residing in this palace have spied on your Lord, being that you have listened in at privet conferences, sent notes bearing confidential information, and conspired to have the present Lord removed from his throne permanently.
            “What have you to say in your own defense?”
 
            To Zuko it seemed as though she glanced at him before answering.  But it was the barest fraction of a glance, and it barely even took a second.  “Only this my Lord, that I may know the name of the person who accuses me.  That I know who it is that claims I have done these things, and that I know what proof has been shown against me.”
            The request was ignored and the advisor turner to face Zuko.  “You wish to argue for this woman?  Do so now and make it quick.”
            Zuko took a step forward, and took a deep breath before starting.  “Father, this woman has been my nurse since the day I was born.  She has lived among us for over fourteen years, and never has any harm come of it.
            “Father she has shared her life with us, eaten our meals.”
            “Raised your son,” General Iroh added in.
            Ozia barely glanced at him.
            “Her family has been provided for by us, what reason could she possibly have for betrayal?”
            “Some people hardly need a reason.” The adviser muttered.
“Father . . .”
“My Lord!” The adviser stepped forward. “My lord, your own brother, the esteemed General himself admitted this woman raised your son.  There is no doubt in my mind that is the only[/i] reason he wishes to speak for her.”
General Iroh winced, “that is not exactly what . . .”
“The evidence against her is solid.”
“But . . .”
“I myself saw her with one ear to the Conference Hall door!”
“Oh I get it now,” Zuko burst out, “You’ve got some kind of disagreement with her!”
“This is a serious matter, and not the time for petty grievances!”
“I have made up my mind!” the Fire lord rose from his chair and strode across the hall to stand in front of Mistress Kiata.  “Lady you are found guilty of all charges.”
“Father!”
“This is WAR Zuko, and she has committed treason.  Perhaps she did it for gold.  Maybe someone even has her family.  But treason is treason!
“Lady your sentence is death.”
“Father, no!”
“You are to be hanged by the neck until you are dead!”
“You can’t!”
“I can, and that’s the end of it!”
“I won’t let you!”
“I[/i] am lord here, Zuko. It is for me to decide, an no one else.”  The Fire lord was advancing on him now, and it was all Zuko could do to hold his ground.
“I challenge you!”
“What?” Ozai snarled.  Now would be a wonderful time to shut up, Zuko reflected.  He should make his apologies and leave, return to his chamber without any meals for the rest of the day.  That was what usually happened in these cases.  But his temper had a hold of him and Zuko was not backing down.
“Agni Kai, I  . . .I . . .challenge you.”
“And this will accomplish what?”  Ozai was in his face, so close that Zuko could see the anger burning in his father’s eyes.
“If . . .if I win,” Zuko’s voice was stronger now, more determined.  “She goes free.”
“And if you loose?”
“Do as you like.”
Ozai sneered, “Very well, I will allow you your fun.  But whether you win or not, know this, You with be punished for the insolence you have shown today.  I do not take challenges to my authority lightly.  My son or not, you are still my subject, and you will learn to act like one!
Take the woman to a cell.  She will stay there until her judgment is decided.  And escort the prince to his chambers.  He will need his rest, for we duel at high noon.”
 
As Zuko left he took a chance and glanced over his shoulder.  Uncle Iroh wore a worried frown and he seemed to be speaking urgently with the Fire Lord who was not pleased.  The advisor however, was standing with his back to the two men, and he was laughing.
 
*
High noon came.  Zuko had not eaten, he had not spoken with anyone.  He admitted that he was scared.  He knew he had no chance of winning and preserving his honor, not against his father, but he had to try.
There came a knock on his door, and Zuko rose from his bed to answer it.  It opened before he’d even taken two steps.  Instead of the expected guards, his uncle stepped into the room and smiled sadly.
“Are you ready prince Zuko?”
Zuko started, his uncle had never addressed him by his title before, usually it was just nephew.  “I’m ready uncle.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I have no choice.”
“There is always a choice.”
“If I don’t go through with this I will have forever lost my honor.”
“Same if you loose.”
“Better to lose than never to try!” Zuko snapped
Uncle Iroh nodded, “I said that there was always a choice Prince Zuko, but sometimes, there is only one right one.”
“So you’re not mad at me?”
“I agree with you.  Although I do wish you would leave some things for your elders to handle.”  It was then that they reached the door to the training yard, and neither said another word more.
 
The gate swung open on a large square yard surrounded by walls of stone.  The gate itself was made of steal.  The floor was a combination of packed dirt, and sand.  Any fire bender in the palace could use this area to practice their bending.  The entire arena was fireproof.
Zuko took a deep breath, removed his shirt and sandals, accepted the ceremonial over robe his uncle held out to him, and allowed himself to be lead to the far corner.
A few minutes later the Fire lord Ozai arrived with several other benders who spread out against the wall to watch.
 
At fourteen Zuko was not considered short, but his father towered over him, and as they bowed to one another, Zuko realized exactly how much of an advantage that was.
 
A fireball was flung as his face, and Zuko blocked.  Every move his father made, every kick and punch, every flick of the wrist, was followed by some form of Fire bending.  It was all Zuko could do to defend himself.  But the strange thing was that the more that was flung at him, the easier things seemed to become.  Gradually he began to sense a pattern.  Fire Lord Ozai was using the same moves again, and again, and once Zuko realized this, he began finding places for his own attacks.
 
Feet pounding earth, bodies twisting in avoidance of the other’s attacks, the battle continued.  Zuko stopped thinking, stopped trying to remember every lesson he’d ever been taught, and started reacting.  He realized that his body remembered the moves, and this allowed his mind to gage his opponent’s weaknesses.  Eventually Zuko realized that his father, the fire lord, was continuously exposing his left side.
It was then that Zuko made his mistake.
Up until this moment those who had gathered to watch had entertained some hope that the Prince might win.  He was after all very close to his father’s match.  They could all see that much.  Prince Zuko also had the advantage of youth, but it could be a disadvantage as well.  The prince was over come with determination to win, and with the knowledge that if he acted at the right moment, he could win.  In haste he rushed his father, and forgot to defend.
 
In less than second he was flung hard against the ground.  The last sight he would ever have of his father for many years to come was of the man towering over him, a furious sneer twisting Ozai’s face into a hideous mask.
There was a flash of fire, and a searing pain in the left side of his face.  Zuko had a brief vision of his Uncle rushing towards him before everything went black.
 
***
A strangled cry ripped from his throat as Zuko fought his way out of the bed cloths.  Not until he was on his feet did he realize that it had already happened.
He had already woken days later to find his face in bandages and Uncle Iroh packing his room.  Already been informed of his exile with barely a day between waking injured and boarding a small ship.  He had already removed the bandaged to find his face hideously scarred a month later.
No, it had all been a dream, a nightmare, made up of his own memories.
 
There was a knock on the door.
 

You are not authorized to comment here. Your must be registered and logged in to comment