Flames Of Fate (Zuko X Reader)

Chapter Thirty Eight: The Pact

When Scylla opened her eyes, she gasped at the sight. She had been transported back to the same clearing. The sky appeared somewhat duller, but the air remained warm and crisp. A figure loomed over her, obscuring the sunlight.

Squinting, Scylla struggled to discern the features of the figure before her.

"(Y/N)?" she questioned, her voice drifting and echoing in her mind. It didn't make sense; this figure was taller, almost her exact height.

The figure stepped aside and extended a hand for Scylla to grasp. She reached out, allowing herself to be pulled up from the ground.

Now that she could see the figure clearly, her jaw slackened.

The girl smiled softly at her, and (Y/N) suddenly felt self-conscious.

“I am (Y/N); it’s great to finally meet you, Scylla.”

Although their features were somewhat alike, this girl was nothing like her. For starters, her hair was long and silky, flowing down past her slender shoulders to her hips and around her like a waterfall of ink. Her eyes were gentle and bright, eyes like this could stop wars.

They were the same height, but while Scylla was tough with broad shoulders, defined masculine biceps, and calloused hands, (Y/N) had softer features, the kind that made anyone want to reach out and protect her. Yet, her eyes told a different story—aged and sharp-cut like diamonds, they bore the marks of torment and pain, just like Scylla's own eyes.

It was like staring at a negated version of herself. Or maybe it was her who was the negate here.

Scylla felt heat rush through her cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed.

The girl smiled at her, and Scylla couldn’t help but smile back. It felt like a dream.

“Walk with me, Scylla?” (Y/N) asked.

Scylla nodded.

(Y/N) led her onto a cobblestone pathway that wound through a field of wildflowers.

“I know we are two different people. Your loyalty lies with the throne.” (Y/N) started.

Scylla nodded. “The Fire Lord’s will is my own.”

(Y/N) regarded her with a curious gaze. "And what of your own will?"

Scylla shrugged. “It does not matter what I want. Following orders is all I’ve ever known.”

(Y/N) came to a sudden halt and turned to face Scylla. Her gentle features took on a serious expression, her eyes filled with sadness and regret. Without warning, she bowed deeply, causing Scylla's eyes to widen in surprise.

"I can't imagine what you've been through," (Y/N) began, her voice heavy with emotion. "It would be selfish of me to judge you. I was too weak to withstand what you were put through. I owe my life to you."

Scylla couldn't quite fathom why this was happening. Her life had always been defined by brutal training regimens and relentless study, the perfecting of her skills and the sharpening of her knowledge on warfare. Yet, it had never felt like a chore or punishment to her; she had reveled in it.