**Wan. The Fire Lord's Palace**
Life in the palace never left me bored. Almost daily firebending sessions with Zuko and Azula, constant tea invitations from officials of various ranks, and somehow, I had to carve out time for my own chi practice.
"General Bu Jing invites you to his estate for tea," the servant said cautiously, knowing full well what these "gatherings" were like—barely any tea, just people probing you!
"Another one," I groaned into my pillow.
"Shall we decline?" Shaya asked.
"No, tell him I'll be there soon," I replied reluctantly, getting out of bed. "Can't miss these meetings."
Over the month, I'd visited many country estates. In a way, I'd become an expert in local architecture, especially since they all seemed built from the same template. General Bu Jing's estate was no exception—nothing unique about it.
The first oddity came when I arrived. Usually, the host greets guests at the entrance. Here, only a steward awaited me, asking me to follow him.
He led me to an old building, more like a storage shed for unwanted things.
"They're expecting you downstairs," he said calmly, clearing some items and revealing a hidden passage with stairs leading down.
Eyeing the steward warily, I descended, already calculating what four masters and ten strong mid-level firebenders could want from me. My "life sense" from the fire told me that's how many were there.
Opening the iron door, I braced myself for a fight. But instead, I was met with countless stares, their eyes locked on mine, their chi unleashed. The oppressive energy weighed on my shoulders like an unbearable burden, forcing my own chi to kick into overdrive.
"You've picked the wrong target," I smirked, generating more and more energy. Soon, the scales tipped in my favor. "First Azulon's warm welcome, now this. Is this an unspoken Fire Nation tradition?"
"I hope they'll explain all this," I managed to say as my opponents struggled. Some averted their eyes, slumping into chairs; others persisted, sweat dripping down their faces. Only one gray-haired elder watched the "show" with a mischievous grin.
"Enough. We get it—don't mess with him," the elder waved dismissively. The pressure lifted, and the remaining chi flared green, igniting the candles. "I told you testing the kid was pointless," he teased, mimicking a youthful voice. "No, we know better. No respect for elders these days, brats."
"We needed to understand who you are," General Bu Jing apologized, spreading his hands. "It was unexpected to receive a letter from Fire Lord Azulon, urging us to assist an unknown figure."
"He'll keep us on our toes. I knew his great-grandfather—what a thorn he was," the elder laughed. So, he's older than Azulon, having met my "family." He looks spry. "Call me Old Jian. You've trained in my house for a month, and I've gotten to know you." His face had often appeared in my periphery… Some kind of chi concealment technique? I'd "probed" everyone during training, but Old Jian seemed like a weak bender. I'd love to learn his technique—very intriguing.
If they let me, of course. Many families here are cautious about writing down their secrets, fearing theft. Most important knowledge is passed orally.
Our conversations boiled down to one conclusion: "Lie low and observe." As I was told, our faction should've been larger, but some defected, fearing persecution for their families. There's a good chance some among us have ill intentions, reporting our talks to one side or another. And I think I know how to come out on top…
"Please, everyone, wait," I stopped them as they began to leave. "I'd like five minutes alone with each of you." They exchanged puzzled glances, unsure what I was up to.
"It's crucial for our future," I insisted, and they reluctantly agreed.
"Like old times, when your great-grandfather, still green, called me in for a chat. He still pulled my chi out," Old Jian joked—or maybe he was serious.
Five minutes—a lot or a little? Time flies or crawls, depending on the situation. Three hundred seconds was all I needed to identify the planted individuals. A few blunt questions and enhanced hearing did the trick. Knowing the body well, it's easy to tell if someone's lying based on subconscious reactions. Even the best actors can't control their internal processes…
One was from the Fire Sages, the other working for Ozai—no surprise. No one would leave us unchecked.
"Thank you all. I've confirmed there are no traitors among us," I bowed in gratitude.
"Let me take you back to the Palace," Old Jian led me to his carriage.
"Well, spill it," he said once we were seated. "Who's with us, who's against?" Experience speaks. Old Jian was one of the truthful ones, and I wasn't hiding the info—better to use it quickly.
"Master Zet's with the Sages, and House Li's in Ozai's pocket," I replied thoughtfully. "What should we do…"
"Always teaching you young ones," he said, seeing my hesitation. "Let's side with Ozai. For all his flaws, his plans benefit the people. We'll join him, take down the Sages, then see what happens. At least one side will leave us alone, and we can slowly gain Ozai's trust." Not a bad plan.
The conversation turned to the Fire Lord's children. I interact with them most, so I have a good chance to influence them—something many want, since one will inherit the throne.
"Wan," Old Jian grabbed my hand as I was about to leave the carriage. "I trusted Azulon, so I trust you now. But if your actions harm the people…" His grip tightened, his face turning menacing. Such a change! He seemed so gentle. "Dare greatly. It's all in your hands," he released me, his kind expression returning. "If only I were younger, I'd show them all," his words faded as I left.
"Not even a little scared," I thought, the red marks from his grip fading under my chi. "Well, maybe just a bit." I wonder how powerful he was in his prime?
*
Today marks exactly one month since I started training Azula and Zuko. Now, they're to demonstrate their firebending skills before the Fire Lord. In the throne room, amid the children's quick breaths and roaring flames, we watched their display of mastered techniques.
I've come to understand their personalities well. Azula craves attention from her parents. While Ursa rarely praises her daughter, Ozai shows sparse interest in her achievements. Her hard work is driven by the hope of her father's approval. Zuko, on the other hand, is a simple boy—even a bit infantile. He has his mother's love and an uncle who's like a father to him. He wants to surpass his sister in firebending and gain more of his father's attention, but he's content with what he has.
Honestly, what's needed here is a seasoned psychologist, one who's dealt with family issues…
Azula envies her brother for receiving her mother's love simply for existing, while she has to work tirelessly for her father's fleeting approval. Zuko, in turn, envies Azula, thinking she's a show-off, and resents her talent. Add Ursa's distant attitude, which Zuko unconsciously mimics.
It goes deeper. Ozai sees his son as a copy of Iroh, whom Azulon favored, giving him more attention. His second son had to struggle to match his brother's influence. Then there are the times Zuko failed to meet his father's high expectations, making things clearer.
Glancing at the figure beside me, I couldn't help but admire her delicate features, combined with her melancholic expression, creating an aura of fragility and ethereality.
Ursa—the unattainable dream of every man in the palace and a constant topic of gossip among the jealous women. Sometimes, I think the environment has driven her to paranoia… and maybe she's not wrong.
In this month, we've barely spoken—just greetings and goodbyes when she picks up the children. Sometimes, I feel she's sizing me up, trying to decide if I'm friend or foe. So, my conclusions are based on her interactions with the children and the animated series I've watched.
Her strained relationship with Ozai could stem from her "broken" life—a lost love, a beloved job, and likely friends. Zuko's gentler nature lacks the inner strength Azulon had, and that Ozai and Azula possess. This makes him the object of his mother's greater love, as he's different from his father. Ozai's attention to his daughter and her rebellious nature don't sit well with Ursa, leading to her distancing from Azula. Though, in my opinion, the reasons are weak.
One can speculate endlessly, especially when she has no one to confide in. Servants report everything, and she's rarely allowed to leave the palace.
All this could be my overactive imagination, mistaking wishful thinking for reality… But every time, it's confirmed through experience.
"Well done, Azula," Ozai said to his daughter, merely nodding at Zuko. "Good work, Wan," he acknowledged me.
"Iroh sent gifts from his travels," he continued. "I'm expected at a meeting. Dine without me," he left as servants brought in wrapped packages.
"Next time, Father will praise me," Zuko said, based on their training conversations. Sometimes, they weren't even acknowledged, so a simple nod showed progress.
"Are you hurt, Zuko?" Ursa began examining him, while Azula demonstratively rubbed her arm, which she'd twisted too sharply during her demonstration. Poor child…
"I'm proud of you, Azula," I said, our student-teacher relationship now on a first-name basis. "A sprain?" I asked, feeling her arm. "I have a miraculous ointment that'll heal it by tomorrow," I smiled, earning a shy smile in return.
"Look what Uncle Iroh gave me!" Zuko exclaimed, barely holding the swords. And here's the Blue Spirit's weapon… "What did you get?" he asked slyly, knowing it'd be something girly.
"Hmph," Azula snorted, closing the box with colorful clothes and dolls. "I haven't played with dolls in five years," she said amid Zuko's laughter, still pretending to be a great swordsman.
"You'll only get these back during your training with the hired master," Ursa swiftly and skillfully took the dangerous gifts.
Technically, I should've left by now, but since no one's kicking me out, why not stay? I'll keep appearing, let them get used to me. Plus, there's one unfinished task.
"Ahem," I cleared my throat, drawing attention. "A month of hard firebending training has shown me your skills and your desire to reach new heights. Despite some complaints, Zuko followed my instructions, driven more by rivalry with his sister, but that's secondary. Here's a little motivation," I pulled a book and a dagger from under my kimono—at least this awkward outfit has some use…
"This is for you," I handed the book to a delighted Zuko, who quickly lost his smile. Azula's face, meanwhile, lit up, thinking the dagger wasn't for her. "Treasure this. It holds your people's millennia of wisdom on tactics and combat schemes," I said, and it's true—it's every soldier's go-to book.
"And this is for you," I placed the dagger in Azula's still-disbelieving hands. "It's a work by Master Piandao," I pointed to the small hieroglyph.
The master hasn't taken students in years, but he never stopped creating masterpieces in his forge. It cost me a fortune to get on his years-long waiting list. A fortune and a courtesy visit—seems the White Lotus also wants to know what kind of "fruit" I am.
"Thank you," Azula, coming to her senses, quickly and awkwardly hugged me. The gift was definitely worth it.
"Yeah, thanks, teacher," Zuko grumbled.
"You're welcome," I smiled at both, patting the still-grumbling Zuko's head and the beaming Azula.
As I basked in the accidental warmth with my students, Ursa watched us with a small smile.