"Has he said anything?" whispered Azra to her classmate.

Her fellow forth year student, a boy named Iden whispered back, "Not yet. No surprise, really. He probably knows what really happened, but he's not allowed to say anything."

"I heard Firelord Azulon didn't really die in his sleep," a third friend, Tazoa interjected, "That in the dead of night, Lady Ursa murdered him."

"That's stupid," Azra reproached, "Why would she do that?"

"Because she wanted her husband to be Firelord instead of The Dragon of the West!"

"And be killed or banished in the process? You're an idiot."

Zuko kept his eyes fixed on his desk. He'd gotten used to the whispers everywhere he went, but it was worse at school. He had hoped his first day back would return some normalcy, but no one liked to speculate more than children.

"At attention!" the instructor ordered, standing from his desk, "Recite the Fire Nation oath."

Zuko stood but didn't bother with the words. He didn't bother with much of anything lately.

"Sit," Instructor Pan commanded once they'd finished, "And welcome back, Zuko. My deepest sympathies on the passing of your grandfather. His death is a loss to us all."

"Thank you," Zuko replied automatically. He couldn't count how many times he'd heard those words in the last two months. "Sorry for your loss". Sorry the man who ordered you dead mysteriously died first. He could never say the truth: that he scarcely cared about the death of a vicious old man in wake of losing his mother.

He couldn't have said what the lesson was about. Every other word that drifted by sounded like something he recognized, but he couldn't have strung enough of them together to tell what the subject was. Or the next subject, or the next. Lunch came and all he had learned was that in the upper left corner of his desk, the lines in the wood swirled into something that resembled a turtle-duck shell.

"Be back in an hour, everyone!" Pan shouted over the clattering of rising students, "That mean you, Tazoa!"

Zuko stood to follow after most of the crowd had cleared out. There was a spot bellow one of the trees outside where he used to sit with Azra and Iden. Since his absence, Tazoa had apparently begun sitting there as well. Tazoa was a curious child and there were too many questions Zuko didn't want to answer. He sat on a section of wall that ran around the outside of the courtyard, away from everyone else. A servant named Kala had made his lunch that morning. She was a nice woman who remembered all of his favorite foods. Lately, she seemed to be going out of her way to add fireflakes to everything she packed him. He appreciated the gesture, but it didn't make his appetite suddenly return. He stared at the box, pondering whether he should sneak to the bathroom and dump the food out right then, or attempt to be social and pawn it off to other students. He wasn't sure he had the energy for that. A shadow blocked the sunlight that was glinting off a dumpling a moment ago. Whoever's shadow it was, the sooner they went away, the better.

"Hey, Zuko!" Azra exclaimed cheerfully, "It's good to see you back! Do you want to sit with us?"

"I…" he wasn't sure how to say no without hurting her feelings.

"You know what?" she clasped her hands together, "We'll just come to you."

She sat down next to him and gestured her friends over.

"Azra, that's nice, but…"

"You missed so much while you were out. Azale got in this huge fight with one of the firebending instructors and got kicked out! I told him his temper was going to get him into trouble. And Razon and Kila are a thing now. Also, we finished the Air Nation Invasion chapter, but I can help you read through what you missed if you want. You're the fire prince, after all, I'm sure you'll get caught up quick."

Zuko's already limited attention was split between listening to Azra spew gossip and dreading the arrival of the other two children.

"Welcome back, man!" Iden said, extending his hand. Zuko halfheartedly accepted.

"Hi, Iden"

"Zuko, how've you been?" Tazoa asked, clapping him on the back.

"Fine, I guess," Zuko shrugged as the three settled in around him, Tazoa wedging himself between Zuko and Iden.

"So, Zuko, you're the son of the Firelord now," Tazoa raised his eyebrows at him, "That's got to come with some cool perks."

"I guess," Zuko answered.

"Did you get a bigger room?"

"No. I don't think anyone is going to touch Lu Ten's room for a while…"

"Oh…" Tazoa's prying was only briefly deterred by the mention of Lu Ten, "Is it easier to pick up girls now that you can say 'my dad is the Firelord'?"

"I don't think so. Maybe. I haven't really tried."

"Sooo…" Tazoa droned, bored with Zuko's lackluster answers, "did your mom really kill Firelord Azulon?"

"Tazoa!" Azra scolded.

"What? I'm a Fire Nation citizen! If someone betrayed our country, I have a right to know!"

"Tazoa, that's not-"

"A man, supposedly in perfect health, suddenly dies and Lady Ursa disappears the same night? Pretty suspicious."

"Tazoa, stop it."

"Come one, Zuko, what really happened that n-"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

The courtyard was quiet. Zuko could feel dozens of eyes watching him with a mix of curiosity, pity, and wariness. All he wanted was to disappear.

"But… you were there, weren't you? You must have seem some-"

Tazoa was cut off by Iden pushing him backward off of the wall, crashing into a bush beneath them.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," Iden offered. Zuko gratefully accepted. Anything to get away from the constant stares and questions.

They walked silently around the grounds for a few minutes before Iden spoke.

"I'm sorry about your mom."

Zuko stopped walking. His head lowered further, his hands clenched.

"I know you were close," Iden continued, "I don't know what happened, but whatever it was, it was hard for you and I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Zuko choked, the lump in his throat betraying him. For once, he truly meant those words. He breathed in through his nose, keeping tears at bay, "Really, thank you."

They walked without speaking, understanding that wordless company was what Zuko needed, until they reached the doorway to the classroom. Lunch still had a few minutes left, but it was close enough that they could go in.

Azra was already at her desk, fidgeting nervously. The moment she noticed their entrance, she bounded over to meet them.

"I'm so, so sorry, Zuko," she gushed, "I don't know what he was thinking."

"It's fine," was all Zuko said before retrieving his sparing gear and leaving to change for firebending practice.

Dim candle light danced on the thick cloth walls of the general's tent. The last eaten plate of food from two days earlier collected flies around the desk. No one had been allowed in for nearly a week, even just to check on the distraught man who shut himself inside.

"I'm so sorry, my son"

The Dragon of the West clutched the paper in his hands. Maybe if he stared at it long enough the ink impression of his son would replace the last image he had of Lu Ten. His only child, lying on the battlefield, crushed by stone. Bleeding from his mouth, his chest purple and red, blank eyes staring at the father who cradled him. After so much time, so much adversity, it seemed nothing could stop his unrelenting siege on that damned city. He had fought in this brutal war for so many year, but this…

This was true horror.

He couldn't hold back his sorrow any longer. He screamed, releasing a burst of fire from his mouth, hoping to burn down the tent with him inside. Then suddenly, it was gone. He breathed out, expecting flames to dance from his breath. There was nothing. He punched forward. Still no fire. Then he noticed his hand. It was blue and transparent. Was he dead?

"Welcome, Iroh of the Fire Nation," a red dragon's head loomed before him, "You're time is not up yet. You have much to learn."

"Come on!" shouted firebending master Wazar, "You can do better than that! Don't hold back!"

Azra looked uncertainly at the boy she was currently beating. The boy nodded at her, knowing it was better for both of them in the long run if she flattened him on the ground as Wazar said. A burst of flame knocked him out of bounds and onto his back. Wazar nodded in approval.

"Help him up," Wazar barked. Azra quickly obliged, extending a hand to the boy she had just defeated.

Wazar moved to the line of students to pick the next pair, "You may think me harsh, but this is how you learn. Who's next?"

Zuko stepped forward. Better to get it over with. He grimaced when Tazoa stepped forward as well.

"Don't just stand there, go!" Wazar ordered. Tazoa didn't hesitate. He unleashed a burst of fire blasts before the words were finished. Zuko easily sidestepped them all. After sparing against Azula, classmates would be no problem. He whipped a fiery kick in Tazoa's direction, knocking him back several steps. Zuko didn't wait for the other boy to regain his balance. He punched forward, once, twice, three times, faster than the other grade schooler could dodge. He was winning. He'd forgotten what having the upper hand felt like. It felt good. He felt in control. He sent a blast to Tazoa's side, causing him to quickly change direction, lining him up to be finished.

He threw both his hands forward, blasting Tazoa into the wall. The boy then crumpled onto the floor. Zuko didn't help him up.

"That was good bending, Zuko," Wazar's said coldly, "But I don't want any serious injuries in my class. Wait until you're sure your opponent is balanced enough to block before you attack again."

"I thought not holding back was how you learned," Zuko retorted. He didn't know where this sudden anger was coming from, but he wanted to blast the condescending look off his teacher's face.

"I am teaching my students to protect themselves no matter what is thrown at them," Wazar scowled, "That is not achieved by injuring them before they are ready."

Zuko was about to argue when he was interrupted.

"I want a rematch," Tazoa clambered to his feet, "And if I win, you have to tell me how Azulon really died."

"You're on!" Zuko answered, rage blinding his judgment.

Tazoa kicked at him, but was far too slow. Zuko dipped down and knocked him off balance. Tazoa grabbed at him as he fell, catching Zuko's shirt to bring him down with him. Zuko flipped over Tazoa and rolled away, rising with a punch of fire. They were nearly at each other again when Zuko felt a large hand grasp his upper arm from behind. Instantly, he yelped and threw every bit of power he had toward the figure. He lost track of Tazoa, and everything else for that matter, and just swung blindly until he felt both his wrists caught by someone much stronger. He fought against the grasp, shouting unintelligibly until he felt his back against a wall. The fear was overpowering until he finally heard the voice calling his name over and over again.

"Zuko! Zuko, calm down, you're fine!" Wazar told him, "You're alright, just settle down."

Between heaves of breath, the words slipped out.

"I don't want to die!"

He wasn't even sure why he said it, it just came out before he could stop it.

"You're not going to die," Wazar said in a softer tone than any of them had heard him speak before, "You're in class. This is just practice. No one is going to hurt you."

His rapid breathing began to slow, but the shaking in his limbs remained. If he'd thought people staring at him was bad before, he was naïve. THIS was what every single person watching you and thinking you're crazy felt like.

"May I sit out of the rest of class?" Zuko asked, his voice void of emotion.

Wazar studied him for a moment, then released his hands, "Yes, you may go."

As soon as Zuko was out of site, he changed his brisk walk to a sprint. The lockers rooms weren't far, but he couldn't get hidden fast enough. He ran into a stall and locked the door. There was no one else in the changing rooms between classes. It would be at least half an hour before he would have to face anyone. Tears stung his eyes. He wiped at them furiously, but they spilled onto his cheeks.

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID," he sobbed. His breath hitched in his chest. There was no one around to hear, but he couldn't shake the fear of someone finding him, son of the Firelord, crying. Or, spirits forbid, that his father would find out that he broke down at school. His disgrace of a son, crying.

"What is going on?" Iroh asked the dragon before him.

"Isn't it obvious?" the spirit replied.

"Well… I assume I'm in the spirit world," Iroh guessed hesitantly, "But that doesn't give me any clues as to why."

"At our darkest moments, we are open to the greatest change."

"I don't understand."

"The world is about to change, Iroh. And it will need you to change as well."

"Just leave me alone," Iroh closed his eyes, running his hands through his hair.

"Your son, Lu Ten."

Iroh didn't answer, but the spirit knew he had the General's attention.

"You feel you are lost since your son died, but this is not true. You were lost long before Lu Ten's death. It is only now that you will be willing to see it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, just leave me alone!"

"You're grieving because you couldn't see the destruction you were causing! Did you think you were the first father to lose a son in this war? Did you think every Earth Kingdom solider you killed was spawned from the ground? No, but you thought that their sons were worth the cause. But your son, your son was too high a price. Your son was worth more than the siege, more than the war, more than everything."

"Why are you doing this?" Iroh cried as tears sprung to his eyes.

"Because you are ready to see your country as it truly is. To see the world as it truly is."

Zuko had managed to make it through the day, mainly by avoiding eye contact with absolutely everyone. He went straight to his room, hoping for a least a couple hours of peaceful refuge. A loud rap on the door told him he was not so lucky. He stood to open it, but the door swung toward him before he could reach. His father stood before him.

"I spoke with your teacher earlier today."

This was it. He was dead. Zuko stood still and tried not to throw up.

"Did you hear me?" his father demanded.

"Yes, father," Zuko composed himself as much as he could while contemplating Azula's advice of finding a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt him, "What did he say?"

"He said that perhaps whatever training you had done with me during your time out of school had been too intense."

To Zuko's confusion, his father smiled.

"He said that you were a bit too aggressive for a grade school class," Ozai continued, "You were a risk to the other students."

Zuko held his breath, waiting to find out what on earth that meant for his fate.

"Perhaps you have what it takes to be a firebender after all," Ozai for once looked at his eldest child with something other than disdain, "Perhaps I should have stopped your mother from coddling you sooner."

Zuko wanted to feel proud. It wasn't often his father gave him anything that resembled a compliment. But at the mention of his mother, he couldn't. She would have been ashamed of his behavior. Such a gentle woman, she'd never approve of him endangering other children. He was always disappointing someone. Always angering someone. Every step was another gamble in the mine field his life had become.

"Thank you, father," Zuko said dryly.

"That's why I'm sending you to Azulon's Firebending Academy. Before I'd thought you were too weak for such a rigorous course. But now I see that with your growth over the past two months, perhaps you could withstand it. That is, if we continue our remedial lessons with your sister, of course."

"Yes, sir," Zuko answered.

"Burn that uniform," Ozai said as he turned to leave, "Forget you were ever too weak to attend a real firebending academy. Never speak of it again."

The door closed. Zuko sighed and sank onto the bed. At least now he wouldn't have to face his classmates who thought he was crazy. Instead he'd spend the days getting his face kicked in by the best bending students in the country. He swallowed, hoping some of the fear would go down with his saliva. He wanted not to care about leaving his old school. But just when he thought he had no one left to lose, he realized the awful truth. He was going to miss Iden.

"Iroh, you have learned much this past year. You have learned not to let your grief destroy you, but instead make you wiser. You have learned to see the world from a perspective other than your own. You understand and value peoples other than your own. I will miss you, my friend."

"Why does that sound like I am leaving?" Iroh asked the spirit.

"When you came to us, you were in need. But now someone else needs you. You are not the only one who suffered terrible loss a year ago."

"No one truly grieved for my father," Iroh thought aloud, unsure who the dragon referred to, "And my brother did not love Ursa."

"No, but your nephew did."

"Zuko…" Iroh felt suddenly foolish not to have considered how his nephew was enduring before, "Ozai's least favorite. A gentle child, at heart, in a nest of vipers."

"I must warn you, Iroh, you have a difficult road ahead of you. He has been hardened by suffering and will not be easily guided."

Iroh nodded, "I've been away too long already."