Chapter 32: The Underestimated Prince
The evening sky burned crimson over the training grounds as Commander Zhao stood, arms folded, observing the line of Fire Nation soldiers before him. The heat of the sun was fading, but the heat of battle was only just beginning.
"Again," he ordered.
The soldiers, six in total, assumed their stances, flames crackling around their fists. They had been sparring with their commander for nearly an hour, but none had landed a decisive hit. Zhao, ever the tactician, had spent years refining his combat skills. His firebending was not just powerful, it was precise, calculated, ruthless.
One of the soldiers hesitated before stepping forward. "Commander, with all due respect, you've been dodging and deflecting all of our attacks. If this were a real battle, you wouldn't have the luxury of fighting one-on-one."
Zhao smirked. "Then stop hesitating and fight me as if I were your enemy. Unless, of course, you'd rather continue losing."
The soldiers exchanged glances before nodding. Without another word, they spread out, encircling their commander. Flames surged to life, lighting up the darkening sky.
Zhao widened his stance, preparing himself.
Then they attacked.
Flames erupted from all sides, converging on him in a relentless assault. The air heated rapidly as fireballs streaked toward Zhao, their combined force enough to incinerate anything caught in the center.
Zhao dodged the first few, weaving through the barrage with practiced ease, but the soldiers adjusted, coordinating their strikes. Streams of fire twisted together, forming a swirling vortex, a maelstrom of heat and destruction, designed to trap him inside.
Zhao's eyes gleamed. 'Good. They're learning.'
But they were still thinking like soldiers, not strategists.
As the fiery storm closed in, Zhao inhaled sharply and took a step forward. Then, in a single fluid motion, he spun. His arms shot outward, and from his fingertips erupted a spiraling vortex of fire.
The maelstrom's flames were drawn toward him, sucked into the centrifugal force of his movement. The more the soldiers fed into their attack, the stronger Zhao's firestorm became, twisting and roaring like a living beast.
Then…
BOOM!
A ring of fire exploded outward, expanding in a fiery arc. The soldiers had no time to react. The sheer force of Zhao's counter sent them hurtling backward, landing in scattered heaps a few meters away, coughing and gasping from the shockwave.
Zhao came to a stop, lowering his arms as embers danced around him.
Silence followed.
Then he scoffed. "Relying solely on overwhelming firepower? Foolish." He paced in front of them, hands clasped behind his back. "Your strategy had potential, but brute force alone won't always win battles. Fire is destruction, yes—but it is also a tool. A weapon of precision. If you attack without thinking, you'll burn yourselves before you burn your enemies."
The soldiers sat up, panting, taking in his words.
Zhao crossed his arms. "Sometimes, you have to actually use your brain."
Before he could continue, a voice cut through the night air.
"Commander Zhao!"
He turned to see a young soldier approaching at a brisk pace, his expression tense.
The soldier saluted. "Sir, an urgent report has just arrived from the Fire Lord. All ships have been notified."
Zhao narrowed his eyes. "Well? What does it say?"
The soldier took a breath. "It says that Prince Zuko has captured the Avatar and will be returning to the Fire Nation Capital. The Fire Lord has ordered that his banishment be suspended, allowing him to re-enter Fire Nation waters."
For a moment, Zhao simply stared.
Then, "He what?"
The soldiers behind him stiffened as Zhao's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Zhao's mind raced. 'Captured the Avatar? So soon? How?'
His thoughts flashed back to the last time he saw the boy. Zuko had been desperate, humiliated from his Agni Kai, barely more than an exiled prince clinging to a hopeless mission. And yet...
Zhao's expression darkened. Unless...
A realization struck him like a fist.
"The prince had already captured the Avatar when he came to the base," Zhao muttered, half to himself. He clenched his jaw. "His plan was... ingenious. He fooled all of us." His gaze flickered to the soldier. "Tell me, his crew, did they know?"
The soldier hesitated. "It's possible. If they did, then they must have lied to us."
"Why would they lie?" Zhao growled. His mind churned with possibilities. "And the Agni Kai? What purpose did that serve?"
A second soldier, still breathless from the fight, spoke up. "Perhaps the prince didn't want anyone interfering. If we had known he had the Avatar, we might have tried to take him for ourselves."
Another added, "It also explains why he went to Kyoshi Island. It was all a ruse, he was making it seem like he was still chasing the Avatar while he already had him."
Zhao clenched his fists. It all made sense. Zuko had played them. He had outmaneuvered them.
His expression hardened. It would appear that Prince Zuko had matured in the time he spent at sea.
He exhaled sharply, turning away. "That report is for those in Fire Nation waters," he said coolly. "Not for us."
With that, he strode toward the barracks, disappearing into the shadows of the fortress.
---
The hallways of the base were dimly lit, flickering torches casting elongated shadows against the steel walls. Zhao's boots echoed through the corridors as he made his way to his office, his thoughts still swirling.
Once inside, he sat at his desk and reached for a scroll. Unrolling it, he dipped his brush into ink and began to write.
***---***
Dear Master
I write to you with the most unfortunate news. As I am writing this, I have received a report that Prince Zuko has indeed captured the Avatar. His return to the capital was unforeseen, given how excited you were when he first discovered the Avatar.
I write this letter to inform you that I will be returning to the Fire Nation myself. If the prince regains his status and becomes the heir, then our plans for Princess Azula will have to be altered somewhat.
It would appear that the prince has grown and matured in ways none of us anticipated. With the Avatar involved, we must assume that the Order will soon make a play. As their antithesis, I suggest we make a counter.
From your loyal servant, Commander Zhao.
***---***
He rolled the letter neatly and sealed it. Then, without hesitation, he rose from his chair and exited the room.
His steps were quick, purposeful, as he navigated the corridors until he reached his private aviary. Inside, several messenger hawks rested on their perches, waiting.
Zhao approached one of them, a strong, well-trained bird, and tied the letter securely to its leg. With a sharp flick of his wrist, he sent it soaring into the night sky.
He watched it disappear into the darkness.
Then, with a smirk, he murmured, "You will not ruin our plans, Prince Zuko."
The flames of ambition burned in his eyes.
The battle was far from over.
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