Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

Forgiveness

The stench of blood and ash choked the morning air, tainting the sun's glow over the Fire Nation capital's shattered harbor. Zuko, his face a mask of grim resolve, surveyed the carnage. Imperial soldiers lay strewn among the rubble, their crimson uniforms dulled by dust and soot, some clutching wounds, others still.

He turned to the colonel beside him, voice low and edged with menace. "What happened here?"

The colonel, pale and shaken, saluted stiffly. "Your Majesty, the attack struck last night. Assailants breached the prison, freeing Fire Lord Ozai. Then a warship—unlike any we've seen—hit the harbor."

"The Iron Dragon," Zuko growled, eyes narrowing. "Any survivors from the ship?"

"None, Your Majesty. It vanished as swiftly as it came."

"The attackers," Zuko pressed, "were they identified?"

The colonel hesitated. "We couldn't apprehend them, but intelligence suggests Princess Azula was among them."

Zuko's jaw tightened. Azula, his sister, aligned with their father. The betrayal cut deep, a chill settling in his bones. This was only the beginning.

"There's more, my Lord," the colonel said, voice trembling. He led Zuko to the water's edge, where a Fire Nation cruiser, the Spitfire, lay docked amid debris. As they approached, Zuko's stomach twisted. The ship was a grim tableau—bodies of the crew, bound and lifeless, hung from the railings, swaying in the breeze, their faces frozen in silent agony.

"The Spitfire missed its post in Hira'a," the colonel explained, voice thick. "But by the time we found her, it was too late."

Zuko stared at the scene, fury igniting within him, hotter than any flame. His countrymen, slaughtered in cold blood, were a personal affront, a desecration of his duty. "Find who did this," he commanded, voice low and venomous. "No stone unturned. I want their names, their faces, and I want justice."

The colonel saluted, his eyes mirroring Zuko's resolve. The hunt was on. Zuko didn't need to voice his suspicion—this bore Rokkun's ruthless mark, and he would pay.

Aboard the Iron Dragon, cutting through waves under a crimson sunset, tension crackled in the dim cabin. Ozai, pale and gaunt from imprisonment, sat opposite Rokkun, the air thick with unspoken hostility.

Ozai broke the silence, voice probing. "How did you and Azula... come together again?"

Rokkun's eyes flashed, his tone sharp as a blade. "That's none of your concern, old man."

"I only wish to know my daughter's in capable hands," Ozai said, his gentle tone belied by a calculating gaze.

"Capable hands?" Rokkun snarled, leaning forward. "I could've saved her from your schemes, but you cast me out like ash! You, who treated me like a son, then burned me for it!"

Ozai scoffed, unyielding. "Spare me your whining, Aarslan. I've heard it too many times."

"I ought to throw you into the sea for what you did," Rokkun growled, fists clenching. "You tore me from my home, all for your ambition. Zuko's weakness wasn't my fault!"

Ozai's gaze was ice. "I did my duty as Fire Lord. Your childish fixation on Azula was a distraction. She had a destiny to fulfill, as did you."

"Destiny?" Rokkun's voice dripped with contempt. "You sacrificed my loyalty, my life, for your throne. You're nothing to me now—a tool, nothing more. If you have come to seek forgiveness from me, then you won't find it."

Ozai shrugged, unfazed. "Forgiveness is irrelevant. Do what you must."

The door slid open, and Azula entered, her face alight with a rare, joyful smile. "Husband, is all well?"

Rokkun softened, masking the tension. "Just catching up, my fire lily."

Azula sat beside him, eyes sparkling. "Father, I have news for when we reach Xanadu." She paused, beaming. "You're a grandfather. We have two sons, Sozin and Viszla. They'll be thrilled to meet you."

Ozai blinked, caught off guard. Azula's happiness, her trust in Rokkun, clashed with the cold ambition he'd instilled in her. It was unacceptable, yet he hid his disdain behind a flat mask.

"Congratulations," he said, voice devoid of warmth. "To you both."

Rokkun met Azula's gaze, a silent vow passing between them. Despite Ozai's shadow, Azula had found joy, and Rokkun would guard it fiercely. The Iron Dragon sailed on toward Xanadu, carrying the weight of betrayal and ambition, a family fractured yet defiant.