Book 2: Earth

Chapter 29- One Friend

The morning sun was barely visible through the twisted columns of black smoke that hung over the palace courtyard. The work had taken most of the day but by dark, it was over, and the guards were no longer needed on the walls.

And now, after what felt like an eternity, Zhenjin found himself walking down to the center of the courtyard. And afterwards, he simply stood there.

He stood there all day.

He didn't know why, but he stayed there anyway, right in the middle of it, shoulders slumped, hand gripping tensely on the handle of his jian, his eyes taking in every detail of what had just transpired by his own hand. It was hard to take his eyes away from the carpet of bodies lying around him, hundreds of them, piled together in mountains of burnt flesh and armor. Some were down with visible scorch marks on their bodies; while others were hit with so many arrows they resembled a human pincushion.

He may as well have been standing in the middle of a field of blood and fire.

It had only been a day, but already the buzzing of flies and the sickening, sweet smell of the dead was filling the air around him. And he knew then, this was a sight that would always mark him, and it was something he knew that he would never forget for the rest of his life. The hardest ones however, were the ones who were staring upwards into the sky, their eyes transfixed into a look of rage and anguish, while others seemed to look blankly at him, almost in reproach.

He couldn't help but think of what he had told his friends earlier.

Living your life based on limits imposed by others is a sheep's way of life.

Was I a sheep all along? Zhenjin thought bitterly, was it all for nothing? In the end, he wanted to be judged for what he had done in his own life, and not because of who his mother was. But now...he had personally ordered the execution of thousands of unarmed prisoners. Some could say it was his mother's orders, but it was his hands that did the work, his honor that was stained. It didn't matter if he didn't want to do it, and people would still think it was his doing.

He clenched his fists tight as he recalled already, the mocking, taunting words from the past that still cut deep.

"No fair!" The brat, who was the son of an imperial fire Noble exclaimed. "It wouldn't be fair to have Zhenjin on your team...he's Azula's son!"

"Keep an eye on that one, and be careful what you say around him, he's Azula's son." The courtier whispered softly.

Azula's son...

A voice suddenly snapped him out of his daydream. Cold. Chilling.

"You will thank me for this some day Zhenjin." Azula said calmly, her voice smooth as silk as she placed a comforting hand on Zhenjin's shoulder. "To be royal is to be honed on a knife's edge. And that means having to make decisions like this, no matter your feelings."

"This was wrong." Zhenjin said blankly, his eyes still transfixed on the mountain of corpses around him.

"My word means nothing now." He said softly. "How can I rule if I don't even have the people's respect and trust? Now, they'll just fear me."

Azula's lips slowly curled into a smile. People's trust and respect? How naive was the boy? It reminded her in many ways of her own brother, and how he had foolishly chosen to speak up against one of her father's generals. Of course, if had been up to Azula, she wouldn't have exiled Zuko. No, she would have made him command the volunteer battalion instead, and make him watch as every man under his command was offered up as a sacrificial lamb.

Sometimes, she learned, the best way to burn a lesson into a boy's mind was to make him complicit in it. After all, it was always best to learn by doing.