𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍 ꩜ prince zuko

¹²

CHAPTER TWELVE

        HOW MUCH TIME had passed? Days? Weeks? Months? Yan couldn't tell anymore; the world beyond her cell felt like a distant memory. She was almost certain her parents thought she was dead; how could they not, after she'd been missing for so long? And even if they somehow knew she was alive, the brutal truth remained: they would likely never see her again. She was trapped in a Fire Nation prison, half a world away from home. Any hope of escape — or rescue — felt impossibly remote. For the first three nights, sobs wracked her body as the weight of her fate sank in. Eventually, even her tears gave up; her grief dulled into silence, replaced by a quiet ache. Her clothes had turned to rags, and the hair that once barely touched her ears now brushed her shoulders. Still, she clung to a fragile thread of hope; she kept telling herself she had to stay strong.

        Her cell in the Capital City Prison was no larger than a small bedroom, its walls and floor carved from cold stone. Within it stood a metal cage — her true confinement — barely large enough to move around in. A thin sheet on the floor served as her bed and a narrow window high near the ceiling let in the only light. Yan often wondered whether the guards had forgotten she was an earthbender or simply didn't know. She had considered using her bending to break free more times than she could count, but the risk of a harsher punishment kept her abilities buried. The food was meager but passable; each day brought the same offering: a bowl of plain rice, a steamed bun, and a cup of cold tea. Bland and repetitive, yes, but better than starvation.

        Even in prison, Yan wasn't completely alone; by some strange twist of luck, Iroh occupied the cell next to hers. A narrow crack in the stone wall near the ceiling connected their rooms, just enough space to hear a voice if you listened closely. She would often sit or stand beneath it, eager for the sound of his calm presence. Now, she sat cross-legged beneath the gap, arms folded in her lap and the cold stone pressed against her back. "Iroh, can I ask you something?" she asked, resting her head against the wall. A muffled reply came through the crack, something that sounded like a yes. "Have you ever met an earthbender or even heard of one who could bend lava?"

        In his cell, Iroh stroked his long beard, thoughtfully considering the young girl's question. "Lava? I've only read that some past Avatars had the ability to bend it; Avatars Szeto, Kyoshi, and Roku all were known to possess lavabending." He paused before continuing, his tone curious. "It's possible, perhaps, that you're descended from Avatar Kyoshi's daughter. That might explain the ability if it runs in your blood."

        Yan mulled over Iroh's words. It was possible, maybe even likely, but she didn't want to dwell on the idea and let her hopes rise too high. Her ability to lavabend could just as easily be a strange coincidence, a rare fluke of her bending, or even a part of her mixed-race DNA. She fell silent after his explanation, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she gazed toward the narrow window high above. Sleep should have come by now, but her thoughts churned too restlessly; the idea of lavabending, of what it meant — of who she might be — echoed in her mind. Before she could follow the thread any further, a voice outside her cell pulled her sharply back to the present.

        "I'm going in for a visit. You're gonna stand guard here, and no one is going to know about this."  Zuko's voice said from outside. Seconds later, the iron door to the cell beside hers groaned open, hinges protesting as the firebender who had betrayed her stepped into Iroh's cell.

        From the moment she heard his voice, Yan felt her anger begin to simmer. She tried to block out the conversation unfolding in the next cell, not that there was much of one. Zuko spoke more than Iroh, his words sharp with judgment as he accused his uncle for the situation they were in. Yan didn't blame Iroh for refusing to engage; he had every right to be angry. After all, it was his own nephew who had betrayed him. Who wouldn't be?