Chapter Text
Zuko might have cleared his schedule to spend the following week with Sokka, but if he didn’t manage to work through this stack of paperwork by morning, he might have to postpone their plans after all.
He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, and re-read the last paragraph in the hope that he’d misread it.
If Minister Hanzu genuinely thought Zuko would support diverting funds from public schools to finance another naval expansion, then he clearly hadn’t been paying attention for the past decade of his reign. Shaking his head, Zuko marked the proposal for further review and pressed his seal beneath the signature, setting it aside.
He was just about to begin the next stack, a proposal from the Minister of Agriculture whose reports had a remarkable tendency to triple in length without gaining any clarity, when a knock at his door saved him from his misery.
“Come in.” He straightened his stiff back, ran a hand across his tired eyes and hoped it would make him appear more put together than he felt.
“My Lord.” His guard offered a deep bow. “The High Sage has requested an audience with you.”
The announcement gave Zuko pause. Usually he received the Fire Sages in the throne room or one of the palace’s reception halls. They rarely seeked him out in his private study, least of all the High Sage.
Due to the nature of his coronation, their relationship had been off to a rocky start and he had to work hard to earn their trust but, as of recently, he’d even managed to coax the occasional hint of a smile from some of them. Still, an audience in his personal study was unusual.
“She may enter.”
He quickly took another sip of his lukewarm tea and made a mental note to write Uncle a letter before he left for Ember Island the next day. It was his most delicious blend yet.
“High Sage Zhori.”
“My Lord,” she said with a curt bow. ”Please forgive the imposition at such a late hour.”
“It is no bother,” Zuko replied, even though he had to actively fight a yawn. “How may I assist you?”
“It is about the upcoming Solstice festival.”
Zuko suppressed a groan. The festival was still ten Agni cycles away. Was this really urgent enough to warrant an audience at this hour? Since voicing that would be decidedly un-Lordly of him, he simply nodded and motioned for her to continue.
“Several temple officials are concerned about your absence from the opening procession. The people expect to see the Fire Lord present for the first blessing.”
Zuko leaned back slightly in his chair before realising he’s doing it and quickly forcing himself upright again. “Go on.”
“The invocation sequence,” she continued, “has been… revised in the draft circulated by your council.”
“I see,” Zuko said carefully, summoning patience. “And you disagree.”
“Yes, My Lord. The order of invocation is not ceremonial preference. It is doctrinal integrity. If altered, even slightly, it risks—”
“Undermining its legitimacy,” Zuko finished, weariness tightening at the edges of his thoughts.
The High Sage’s gaze sharpened as she continued to regard him with measured patience.
“Which part is considered non-negotiable?”
“Three segments,” she replied immediately. “The opening flame-lit procession. The naming of the ancestors. And the final invocation before the Solstice flame is passed to the Fire Lord.”
Zuko nodded once. He glanced at the paperwork. Somewhere in there was probably the revised order. Not that it mattered, with the High Sage already in front of him.
“I assume,” he said, carefully polite, “that reverting the sequence would require… considerable adjustment to the current preparations.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Of course it would.
Silence stretched between them while Zuko attempted to shape the dizzying whirlwind of his thoughts into something coherent.
“How much of this has already been announced?” he inquired, tongue suddenly heavy in his mouth.
“Only within the council and temple coordination offices,” she said. “Not to the public yet.”
The High Sage watched him closely, brows slightly furrowed. “Are you feeling well, My Lord?”
Zuko blinked, slow and deliberate, trying to steady himself against the near overwhelming rush of blood in his ears. “I’m quite alright,” he said. “Though I appreciate the concern.”
“I shall send for a nurse if you require one.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Zuko insisted, though the words slurred together as he spoke. “Please, let us return to the matter at hand.”
He was behind schedule as it was. The unexpected meeting with the High Sage had only set him back further, and if this conversation continued to drag on, any hope of finishing on time would have to be abandoned.
“Your tea does have a wonderful aroma, My Lord,” the High Sage commented suddenly. “A jasmine blend, if I'm not mistaken.”
Zuko stopped short, narrowing his eyes at her. “I’m not certain how this is rel—”
“It really is a shame.” There was a subtle shift in her tone that made Zuko’s chest tighten. “Your ancestors were not perfect, but they at least understood their duty. You, Fire Lord, have forgotten yours. You sit upon the throne, yet you do not carry Agni’s will.”
Before Zuko could properly process her words, a sharp pain bloomed in his right side. He hissed through his teeth and shot out of his chair, knocking it over in the process. The room tilted alarmingly, and he had to blink hard to bring it back into focus.
He barely caught the glint of metal as another blade shot from her sleeve. This time, however, Zuko managed to dodge the attack, exhaling sharply when the sudden movement sent a lance of pain through his spine.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that the crash of his chair had gone unanswered. His heart, thumping against his ribcage, was fast— near erratic— and felt frighteningly out of his control.
“High Sage Zhori,” he shouted, struggling to steady his breathing. “What have you done to my guards?”
“You have ruined this nation.” Her voice cut through the room with unsettling clarity. “Agni had great hopes for the heir of such a storied bloodline. It is unfortunate that those hopes were misplaced.”
She widened her stance then, robes shifting around her feet as she settled into a firebending form. Zuko’s good eye widened. “The Phoenix King should’ve seen it through, banishment was far too kind a punishment.”
A stream of fire erupted from her hands, and Zuko's delayed reaction left him close enough to feel its searing heat.
“This is treason,” he spit, but his tongue felt clumsy and uncooperative in his mouth. He’d accepted a long time ago that not everyone in the Fire Nation would approve of him, but to have it thrown into his face, even now, ten years into his reign, still stung.
“No,” she said. “This is judgement.”
He avoided her next attack but when he tried to fight back, he had trouble focusing on his inner fire. He’d truly believed they had built something over the past decade; a quiet agreement to let the past serve as a reminder and work toward the same future.
But suddenly the air was scalding— too hot even for a firebender— and his sight blurred at the edges, his breaths coming in short, uneven bursts. “High Sage Zhori!” he tried again, blood dripping down his side, “seize this immediately and we may still settle this peacefully.”
The High Sage let out a quiet scoff, a faint smile touching her lips. Her dark hair did not move as she tilted her head. “It is being settled, My Lord. And we shall not rest until all that is unworthy has been cleansed from this nation.”
Zuko’s back went rigid and he faltered briefly, breath catching in his chest. This was different from similar attempts on his life. This was bigger than a personal grudge or a lone attack. He looked at her calm expression and forced himself to replay the conversation through the haze in his head, his knees threatening to give out beneath him. He understood then, that this was a coordinated coup, and that he wasn’t the only one whose life was at risk.
“Then you will pay for this with your life.”
This time when she firebent at him, Zuko had no trouble calling upon his inner flame. He sidestepped her fire with clenched teeth and caught her off-guard with a ring of his own, surprise colouring her features.
What he needed was time— time to get his bearings, assess his options, and come up with a proper plan. There was no point acting rashly until he knew who else was involved. He may be impulsive, hot-headed, and impatient, and he had never shown much regard for his own life, but this was no longer just about him.
“May Agni show mercy on your soul,” the High Sage said, raising her hands above her head. “You shall receive no mercy from me.”
Zuko took a deep breath, his body trembling, and forced his arms into a straight line. He had people he wanted to protect now. People he cared deeply about. And he would not let Ozai haunt them any longer.
So he exhaled, let lightning spark at his fingertips and watched the High Sage stagger back with a strangled gasp, eyes widening. Zuko did not hesitate, but just as he striked her, her face twisted with such contemptuous fury that he nearly faltered.
When she crumpled to the floor, Zuko could only stare for a moment, the sound of his own ragged breathing filling the room. Sweat dripped down his forehead and it took a moment for the realisation to settle in.
What he needed was time— time to make sure no one else was going to get hurt. To get to the core of this and weed out every threat endangering his loved ones, and for that, Zuko had chosen; to execute the High Sage without trial or tribunal, and to refrain from calling for his guards.
The Fire Lord was a beacon, he may as well paint a target on his back and wait for someone to strike. So Zuko took one last look around his study and the picture it painted; at the paperwork piling up on the desk, the spilled ink, the chair toppled over. At the remnants of a Fire Lord unfit to rule.
So, barely able to control the twitch in his muscles, he chose again and dragged every last ounce of fire from his body, flames hot enough to burn her to coal, and the stench of charred flesh was nearly overpowering. Then he raised his shaking arms and tugged the crown out of his hair, letting it fall to the ground unceremoniously.
His vision flickered in and out of focus and the way his breathing rattled in his chest was becoming more concerning by the minute. Still, he shut his eyes tight and made a silent vow to himself, promising to return soon.
Using the last of his strength, Zuko escaped through the open window and dragged himself to a darkened passageway before he collapsed with a grunt and promptly passed out, no longer able to fight the effects of the toxin.