Chapter 58: A Morning Too Soon
"They come at dawn. The window is closing."
The sun hung high and heavy over the capital, casting stark shadows from the palace's towers across the royal courtyard below. Noon bells rang out like iron drums, their toll echoing through the tiled halls with the oppressive weight of formality. The air, already thick with heat, seemed heavier than usual, choked with something else. Anticipation. Pressure. Fire waiting to be stoked.
Zuko stood alone in one of the inner corridors of the royal palace, one hand braced against a carved stone pillar as he stared at the paper scroll in his other hand. His eyes skimmed the words again and again, as if reading them differently might change the meaning.
'The Fire Sages are en route and will arrive by morning, tomorrow.'
Their preparations for the Avatar's spiritual severance shall begin immediately.
Signed, General Shin, Royal Advisor to the Fire Lord.
Tomorrow. Not next week. Not after the coronation. Tomorrow.
He let out a slow breath, folding the scroll with deliberate care before slipping it into the inner sleeve of his robe. His heartbeat hadn't slowed since he'd read it. He felt it pounding in his neck, his ribs, even in his burned eye socket, a dull, echoing throb of urgency.
This wasn't supposed to happen yet.
He had expected delays. Bureaucracy. Ceremonial formalities. But not this. Not the sages arriving in the capital while his plans were still only half-formed. While Katara and Aang were still too closely watched. While Azula was still watching him with her serpentine smile and Zhao was sniffing around like a wolf that had caught the scent of blood.
He turned sharply, storming down the hallway with a silent fury boiling beneath his crimson robes.
---
He reached his private room moments later, dismissing the guards with a single wave of his hand. They bowed and left without question. Once the doors shut behind them, he allowed himself a rare moment of unfiltered emotion.
Zuko slammed his fist into the table.
A small jade figurine clattered to the floor, cracking at its base.
'Damn them.'
He was so close.
The coronation was only days away. Once he was Crown Prince, he'd have unrestricted access to the military's highest tiers. He could reposition guards, forge new seals, and hide his operations under state-sanctioned authority. He'd planned everything down to the hour. He had predicted opposition. Devised countermeasures. Played the palace like a board of Pai Sho.
But now, they'd moved the board.
He paced the room like a trapped animal, each step precise, measured, but fueled by raw adrenaline.
'The sages are coming for Aang's soul. And once they begin the rites, I may not be able to stop them without exposing everything.'
He needed a way to slow them down. To force them to wait without suspecting him. He needed to stall without appearing to stall.
And above all, he needed to move Katara and Sokka soon. Preferably tonight. Every delay increased the risk of Azula catching on.
His mind flicked through the memories of the show, what little details he could still recall. Ancient firebending rites. Solar eclipses. Lunar eclipses. Avatar reincarnation cycles. Cosmic alignments. He had one chance to turn that knowledge into a lie convincing enough to fool the most spiritual masters of fire.
'You're playing against sages now, Victor,' he told himself. 'So you'll need to speak in prophecies, not politics.'
A knock came at the door.
"Prince Zuko," came the voice of the steward. "The Fire Lord wishes to meet you in the east gardens. Princess Azula will be in attendance."
Zuko stared at the door a moment, expression unreadable.
"Tell my father I'll be there shortly," he replied.
As the footsteps faded down the hall, Zuko turned back to the table, ignoring the shattered figurine on the floor.
The clock had started ticking.
If the sages were arriving at dawn…
…then tonight would be the first move in the real game.
The eastern gardens were a curated paradise of stone paths, blooming fire lilies, and towering redleaf trees that swayed like slow dancers in the afternoon breeze. Water trickled down narrow channels carved into the garden walls, steam rising faintly where it met the sun-baked tiles. It was a place of deceptive serenity.
Zuko stepped through the crimson archway into the garden, his face composed, hands folded behind his back. He immediately spotted them.
Fire Lord Ozai stood near the center, robed in darker tones today, deep maroon and black, with golden trim that shimmered in the sunlight. He wasn't admiring the flowers. He was staring at a scroll held by one of the Fire Sages who had arrived ahead of the main delegation. The man bowed low as he finished reading aloud.
Azula stood a few paces behind, arms crossed, her golden eyes sharp with intrigue.
Zuko approached and bowed, just low enough to show respect, but not submission.
"You summoned me, Father."
Ozai turned to him, scroll still in hand. "The Fire Sages will arrive by sunrise tomorrow," he said without preamble. "They will begin their rites shortly after. You will be involved, of course. As the prince responsible for the Avatar's capture, they require your assistance. So you will be fully responsible of these operations."
Zuko bowed his head slightly. "Of course."
Azula's smirk widened. "You'll finally get to play with the spiritual toys, brother. Try not to embarrass yourself."
Zuko ignored her, his mind already spinning through possibilities. If he refused participation, it would raise suspicion. If he asked too many questions, it would do the same. No, he needed to learn more.
"What do the rites involve?" he asked, lifting his gaze to Ozai.
Ozai handed the scroll to a nearby attendant and stepped closer. "The sages have studied fragments of knowledge lost to us for generations. They believe there is a way to sever the Avatar Spirit from its cycle. Permanently."
Zuko's breath caught in his chest, but he didn't let it show.
"Is it certain?" he asked, feigning calm.
"No," Ozai replied, his voice cool. "But certainty is not required. If this method has even a chance of ending the cycle, we will proceed. No more Avatars. No more balance. Only fire."
Azula tilted her head. "It's poetic, really. Aang, the last hope of the old world, dying under our roof while the next Fire Lord is crowned."
Zuko smiled faintly, keeping his voice even. "A moment worthy of history."
Ozai studied him for a moment, too long. "You don't seem pleased, Zuko."
"I am honored to be part of such an event," Zuko said smoothly. "But I was not informed the sages would be arriving so soon. I had planned to coordinate security personally."
Ozai waved a hand. "You'll have time. Your ceremony is in two days. The rites will begin after that. The sages require only a few hours to prepare the boy."
Zuko nodded slowly.
So they don't plan to kill him before the coronation. Good. I have time.
Azula turned, strolling toward a stone bench draped in silk cushions. "I heard you were pacing in your war room earlier," she said without turning around. "Working out ceremony details?"
Zuko offered a courteous nod. "Of course. The smallest details require attention."
Azula glanced back at him. "Just make sure you don't plan something foolish, Zuzu. Father hates disappointment."
Ozai didn't respond to that.
But he did raise a hand, dismissing the attendant and the sage with a silent gesture.
Once they were alone, his eyes bored into Zuko with a fire far more dangerous than flame.
"You will assist the sages. You will not interfere. Do not allow your ambition to cloud your purpose."
Zuko bowed slightly again. "I understand."
"Do you?" Ozai asked, voice deceptively soft.
Zuko met his gaze.
"I do."
A moment passed. Then Ozai turned his back to him and walked into the shade of the trees, robes trailing behind him like smoke.
Azula rose and stepped beside Zuko.
"They really do believe they can kill him permanently," she said quietly, her tone less mocking now, more… curious.
Zuko didn't answer.
Azula gave him one last sidelong glance, her eyes narrowed.
Then she walked away too.
Zuko stood alone in the garden, surrounded by beauty, but feeling none of it.
The clock was still ticking.
But now, at least, he knew exactly how much time was left.
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