Avatar: The Book Of The Phoenix

Aftermath

Rokkun felt the sting of salt on his lips. He sat on the pavilion overlooking the churning sea, the vast expanse mirroring the turmoil within him. His son, Sozin, a warm weight in his lap, gurgled happily, oblivious to the somber silence that enveloped them. The rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs below usually soothed Rokkun, a constant in his life. Today, it sounded like a mournful dirge.

The click of lacquered sandals on the stone alerted him to Azula's approach. She moved with her characteristic grace, a flicker of crimson in the corner of his vision. He didn't turn. He knew she was there, her presence as sharp and defined as the angles of her face.

"My love," she said, her voice soft, a rare tenderness coloring its edges. She paused beside him, her gaze sweeping over the restless ocean before settling on his face. "How are you?"

He didn't answer. He hadn't spoken a word since the Agni Kai, the clash of steel, fire, and the sickening thud of his father's fall echoing endlessly in his mind. The world had become muted, the vibrant colors of Xanadu dulled, as if a veil had been drawn over his senses.

Azula knelt beside him, her silk robes pooling around her on the stone. She gently stroked Sozin's downy head, a small, almost hesitant smile playing on her lips. "He's growing," she observed, her voice laced with a forced lightness. "He looks more like you every day."

Rokkun remained silent, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sky bled into the sea. The weight of Sozin in his lap was a physical reminder of his responsibilities, a stark contrast to the crushing weight in his heart.

"The servants have prepared your favorite spiced tea," Azula continued, her voice dropping slightly. "And a fire is lit in your chambers. It's... chilly out here."

He knew she was trying. Trying to bridge the chasm that had opened between them, a chasm carved by his own hand. He could feel her concern, a flicker of warmth in the icy depths of her usually impenetrable gaze. But the words felt hollow, meaningless. The tea, the fire, the warmth... none of it could touch the cold that had settled in his bones.

Azula sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. The carefully constructed facade of composure cracked for just a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. "Rokkun," she said, her voice low and earnest. "You should not mourn your father. After what he did to you your whole life...what he did to our sons—with him gone..." She paused, searching for the right words. "Perhaps now, you can finally step out of his shadow. You can be your own man. A better man."

Rokkun finally turned his head, his eyes meeting hers. They were empty, devoid of the fire that usually burned within them. "Better?" he echoed, the word catching in his throat. "How can I be better when I've become him?"

He looked back out at the ocean, the waves crashing against the rocks below. Each one a reminder of the violence he had unleashed, the life he had taken. The weight of the ocean, he realized, was nothing compared to the weight of his father's blood on his hands.

Rokkun finally spoke, his voice rough, as if the words had been lodged in his throat for days. "He was cruel," he admitted, his gaze still fixed on the churning sea. "He was a tyrant. But... he was still my father. He believed...he believed in the Fire Nation's destiny. He believed in a united world, brought together under our rule."

Azula's brow furrowed. She had expected grief, perhaps regret. But this... this was something different. "I thought... I thought you and Zuko had finally found a way to put these matters in the past." she said, her voice laced with surprise.

Rokkun gave a harsh, humorless laugh. "Peace?" he scoffed. "There can be no true peace while the world remains fractured, weak. My father's death... it clarified things for me, Azula. It showed me why seizing the throne is more important than ever."

He turned to her, his eyes now burning with a renewed intensity. "Shoka's battalion is mine now. His entire fleet... mine. With their strength, with my leadership..." He trailed off, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We are unstoppable."

Azula stared at him, a flicker of unease in her usually impassive expression. She had always known Rokkun possessed a ruthless ambition, a drive to achieve greatness. But this... this was different. This was no longer about honoring his father's legacy. This was about forging his own, a legacy built on conquest and fire.

"Rokkun," she began cautiously, "Zuko—"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Zuko chose his path. He clings to his childish notions of balance and harmony. He believes in a world where everyone holds hands and sings songs of peace. That's not the world I see, Azula. The world I see is one of chaos, of weakness. And only the Fire Nation has the strength to bring order."

He stood up, Sozin shifting in his arms. The child stirred, whimpering slightly. Rokkun adjusted his grip, his face softening for a moment as he looked down at his son. "I will build a better world for him," he murmured, his voice low but firm. "A world where the Fire Nation reigns supreme. A world where our enemies tremble before us."

He looked back at Azula, his eyes now cold and resolute. "There will be no peace, Azula. Only victory."

Azula met his gaze, her expression unreadable.  The flicker of unease she had shown moments before was gone, replaced by her usual mask of composure.  She had always been a master of control, her emotions carefully guarded, her loyalties unwavering.  She understood power, respected strength, and above all, valued the Fire Nation.

Rokkun's words hung in the air between them, heavy with the promise of war.  The gentle breeze that had carried the scent of salt and sea now felt sharp, carrying the tang of something darker, something metallic.  The playful gurgling of Sozin in Rokkun's arms seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the unspoken weight of their conversation.

She stepped closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.  The touch was cool, almost clinical, yet it conveyed a depth of understanding that went beyond words.  She knew what Rokkun was planning.  She had seen the fire in his eyes, the hunger for power that mirrored her own.  And she knew that she would stand beside him, no matter the cost.

"Whatever you decide, Rokkun," she said, her voice steady and unwavering, "I am with you."

Her words were simple, yet they carried the weight of a thousand unspoken promises.  They spoke of loyalty, of ambition, of a shared vision for the Fire Nation.  They spoke of a future forged in fire, a future where they would stand together, rulers of a world remade in their image.

Rokkun looked at her, a flicker of something akin to gratitude in his eyes.  He knew that Azula would not question his decisions.  She would not waver in her support.  She was his rock, his confidante, his partner in the grand design he envisioned.  And in that moment, standing on the precipice of a new era, he knew that he was not alone.

He tightened his grip on Sozin, the child now sleeping peacefully in his arms.  He looked out at the vast ocean, the waves crashing against the cliffs below, a constant reminder of the power that lay within his grasp.  The weight of the world, he knew, was about to shift.  And he, Rokkun, would be the one to move it.

The sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, the colors of the Fire Nation.  The air grew cooler, the wind picking up, carrying with it the whispers of change.  Rokkun turned and walked back towards the great hall, Azula by his side, their footsteps echoing on the stone.  The future of the Fire Nation, and perhaps the world, lay before them, a path paved with fire and ambition.