Chapter 68: A Rage Fit and the Ceremony
The war room hadn't even settled when Azula snapped.
With a shriek of pure rage, she lunged forward, the polished tiles beneath her boots cracking from the sudden force. Her arms swept wide, fingers flexed and charged, and then she launched twin torrents of piercing blue-white flame from both palms. The heat was immediate, blistering, a roaring shriek of fire that swept across the chamber like lightning breaking free.
"You planned this!" she screamed. "You planned all of it!"
Zuko turned on instinct. His stance lowered, right leg back, left foot forward, arms open. He drew a breath deep into his core and then swept his right hand upward, channeling the motion through his center. Flame erupted from his palm, bright orange and deep red, the color of a furnace, and surged upward in a tight spiral to meet Azula's attack.
The two fires clashed mid-air, exploding into a shockwave of light and heat.
Blue crashed into red, ice meeting magma. The chamber erupted into chaos.
Generals ducked behind columns. Sages fell to the floor, their silken robes catching stray embers. Advisors and ministers backed against the walls as flame hissed across the obsidian surfaces. Smoke began to curl toward the ceiling, licking at the high beams like restless spirits.
Zuko stepped through the blaze like he was born in it. Every movement was practiced, deliberate, he flowed from stance to stance, absorbing Azula's wild fury and responding with fire laced with focus. He pivoted, planted his feet, rotated his hips, and thrust his palms forward, channeling blasts that were swift and controlled, unlike Azula's reckless torrents.
Azula advanced with speed and grace, her motions like coiled whips, graceful and savage. She spun and twirled, her flames slicing the air in jagged waves of blue. Every step was a calculated lunge, but her fury warped her precision.
"Confess!" she shouted. "Say it! You freed the Avatar! You played us all!"
"There is nothing to confess," Zuko said coldly, his voice calm in the storm.
She lunged again, hurling a narrow whip of flame that twisted like a spear, a blue-white-hot. Zuko moved with it, stepping to the side, then sweeping his arm in a crescent, pulling the fire into a loop, and dispersing it into nothing. The heat responded to him.
He stepped forward again.
Then he struck.
From beneath his heels, a circle of fire erupted, orange and red flames rising and swirling around Azula in a perfect ring. They climbed high, surrounding her in a halo of flame, turning faster and faster. She stood in the center, breathing hard, her face pale with fury and disbelief.
She threw another attack. Blue flame arced out, but the moment it touched the ring, it dissolved. The fire didn't burn away. It was absorbed. Swallowed by the vortex.
Zuko remained outside the ring, one arm raised, the other bent at the elbow, hands loose and steady. The fire spiraled at his command.
"Azula," Ozai's voice barked from his place at the head of the chamber. "That is enough."
She didn't hear him. Or she didn't care. Her chest heaved. Her eyes darted. She looked at the fire, then at Zuko.
The fire obeyed him. Not her. Just like with Zhao the other day.
She lifted one arm, hesitated, and lowered it.
Inside the spinning halo, her blue flames flickered, then disappeared entirely.
The silence in the chamber was deafening.
Zuko watched her from beyond the flames. The control in his posture was absolute. His breath steady. His face unreadable.
Azula's lips parted slightly, her expression shifting not with hate, but with disbelief.
He had caught her. Not with brute force. But with precision. With mastery.
Her fire… had become his.
Zuko lowered his arms slowly. The ring of fire curled down and vanished into nothing, smoke trailing behind it like silk in the wind.
Their eyes met.
And for the briefest moment, Zuko gave her a small, knowing smile.
Nothing needed to be said.
The war was already over.
The moment the flames faded, Azula's feet turned. She didn't say another word. Her fists clenched at her sides, and she stormed out of the war chamber, the tall bronze doors slamming shut behind her with a crack that echoed down the corridor.
Zuko stood motionless for only a second before he followed her.
He moved quickly, his boots tapping against the polished floor as he passed startled guards and stunned attendants. He saw her up ahead, walking fast, her posture rigid, her jaw tight.
"Azula," he called.
She didn't stop.
"Azula, wait!"
She kept walking, faster now, ignoring him.
Zuko pushed forward, closing the distance. In a few strides, he was in front of her, stepping directly into her path. She halted, barely missing him as her glare snapped up to meet his.
"Let me go, Zuko," she spat, voice sharp and trembling. "You've won. You have everyone inside thinking of you as the savior prince now."
"That still doesn't change things, Azula," he said firmly.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, eyes narrowing.
"I know how things seem for you right now. But remember, I went through the same thing. I was cast out. I was disgraced. Alone."
"So what?" she hissed. "Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Because I'm just as pathetic as you used to be, Zuko?"
He said nothing, letting her anger bleed out in her words.
"I'm still a prodigy," she continued, lifting her chin. "Your little firebending tricks might have worked in there, but that wasn't even the best of what I can do. My firebending has no limits, Zuko. None. I will reclaim my place at Father's side. I will be the favorite again. I will be Fire Lord."
"Well," Zuko said calmly, "you might be a prodigy, little sister… but that doesn't mean anything to me right now."
Her mouth twitched, but she said nothing.
"I know you're still curious about some things," he continued. "So I'll give you this one time. I'll speak to Father about hunting the Avatar again. I'll ask him to let you come with me."
Azula's brows furrowed.
"This will be your chance to get back what you want," Zuko said. "Your rank. Your glory. But it will be under my command."
"Why would I ever work under you?" she said, stepping closer. "I'll find the Avatar myself. I don't need your charity. I don't need your authority."
"You're not hearing me," Zuko said, voice low. "I'll be leaving the Fire Nation again, with full rights and resources as Crown Prince. After what just happened, do you really think you can still compete with me?"
Azula opened her mouth to snap back, but no words came.
She hated it. Hated how the answer didn't come easy. She wanted to believe she could still outmatch him, could still burn him down like before. She was still stronger in bending, she knew she was. But this Zuko wasn't about brute strength anymore.
He played the long game now. He thought, he planned, and he executed with terrifying patience.
He had beaten her without touching her.
"I'm giving you a chance, Azula," Zuko said. "If you want your authority back, if you want your name to mean something again, I'll take you with me."
He paused. His gaze locked with hers.
"But there's a catch. And I think you already know what it is."
She stared at him, face unreadable.
"I want to see if you're willing," he said. "Willing to be the same Azula I once fell in love with. The ruthless, cunning Azula. The one who was willing to get what she wanted, no matter what it took."
The air between them pulsed, heavy and quiet.
"Like I said… I think you already know what I want."
He turned his back to her and started walking down the corridor.
"If you're still that Azula," he said over his shoulder, "meet me in my room after sunset. If you agree to my demands, then I'll take you with me."
And with that, he disappeared around the corner, leaving her alone in the corridor, confused, furious, and trapped in thought.
***
Zuko paused at the base of the grand marble steps leading to the ceremonial dais. All around him, tens of thousands had gathered in the open plaza before the palace, soldiers in gleaming red armor, courtiers in silken finery, and common citizens pressing forward to catch a glimpse of the rising sun upon their new heir. Hundreds of fire lanterns hovered on poles like floating embers, their soft glow mingling with the pale afternoon light.
He drew in a steadying breath, the weight of his crimson-red robes settling on his shoulders. The fabric was embroidered with golden flame motifs that caught the lantern-light with every small movement, and a heavy ceremonial sash girded his waist. On his head, the simple but stately circlet of the Crown Prince glinted, iron trimmed in gold, engraved with the ancient symbol of Agni Kai.
A swell of applause rose as he lifted his chin and began his ascent. Every step was measured, his boots thudding softly against the marble. As he climbed, he let his gaze settle not on the cheering masses, but on the line of dignitaries seated on the dais above, Grand Sage Yoroku and the other Fire Sages in their deep maroon robes, the Council of Generals standing in rigid salute, and the foreign envoys bearing gifts of exotic silks and spices.
At the top of the steps, Zuko knelt on the lowest of three circular platforms. The Fire Lord's throne, carved from obsidian and set before a roaring pit of ceremonial flame, rose above him. Standing beside the throne were Iroh and Azula, their expressions guarded. Zuko closed his eyes for a heartbeat, gathering focus.
Then Grand Sage Yoroku stepped forward, carrying a bowl of sacred ash mixed with powdered gold. In solemn tone he intoned:
"By the will of the Sun, by the strength of fire, and by the promise of the Phoenix, I anoint you, Prince Zuko, as Crown Prince and Heir to the Fire Lord. May your flames burn bright and your spirit guide the realm."
He dipped two fingers into the ash mixture and traced the twin marks of the Fire Nation emblem across Zuko's forehead. Zuko felt a soft brush of warmth as the golden ash settled into his skin.
Next, Admiral Huo, first among the naval commanders, presented a long, narrow scroll sealed with crimson wax. Zuko took it with a steady hand and read aloud the oath inscribed in flowing script:
"I, Zuko of the Phoenix Clan, do pledge my oath to uphold the honor of the Fire Nation, to guard its people with unwavering resolve, and to carry forward the legacy of my forebears, that the world may tremble no more before our flame."
He rolled the scroll and pressed the seal of his house into the wax, sealing his vow.
Then, from the gathered army generals, General Kai stepped forward holding the Sword of Conquest, a finely wrought blade said to be tempered in the heart of a volcano. He knelt and presented it; Zuko rose to accept, sheathing the sword at his waist with a single, fluid motion.
"At my command, the Fire Nation stands unbroken," Zuko proclaimed. "At my call, its armies shall march in greatness. And by my hand, its people shall live in peace—or die in glory."
A thunder of applause erupted. The thousands in the plaza rose to their feet, stamping and cheering. Hundreds of fire lanterns were released, drifting upward like embers carried on the wind.
High above, the Fire Lord Ozai stepped forward to place his hand on Zuko's shoulder. His voice, even but heavy with pride, echoed across the square:
"Crown Prince Zuko, from this day forth you are my heir, my blood, and my power. Take this mantle, bear it with honor, and lead our nation to its rightful destiny."
With that, Ozai reached for the circlet atop Zuko's head and pressed it more firmly into place, sealing the ceremony.
A final, unified cry of "Long live the Crown Prince!" rolled across the assembled crowd, drowning out the crackle of flame.
Zuko lifted his head, letting the roar wash over him. His eyes swept across the sea of faces, some hopeful, some fearful, all watching. He allowed himself the barest hint of a smile, the moment of consummation after years of plotting and sacrifice.
Thus, Crown Prince Zuko took his place at the forefront of the Fire Nation, heir to the throne and master of his own destiny. And as the lanterns drifted higher into the dusk sky, the chapter of this day came to a close.
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