For the original version of this fic (WITH MUSIC :D) please go to w w w. zw2012 day6 .webs .com

"Leaves from the vine

Falling so slow

Like fragile, tiny shells,

Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy, comes marching home

Brave soldier boy, comes marching home."

The pale summer sunlight bathed everything in mournful white as it drifted lazily across the sky. A day like this shouldn't be beautiful in any way. It should be gray and empty, just like he was. But as usual cold irony seemed to stare down at him mockingly from the blue, blue sky, torturing him with its gaze. The crowd before him stared down at their feet with the utmost respect as their tears mixed with the dirt.

"Dust from the hearth

From burning flames

When I am gone

Remember my name

Little soldier boy, wants to go home

Brave soldier boy, let me go home."

Blinding, blinding white reflected the sun from every direction in a most painful way, but Zuko welcomed it. Today was a painful kind of day.

His world was falling apart.

Today marked the end of a weeklong celebration – "For when the ones we love leave us, nephew, we must celebrate their lives rather than dwell on their death, never forget that" – and the beginning of a new chapter in Zuko's life.

The one without his uncle.

"Death comes to us from the rising sun

It carries us away on its rays

And when our final day is done

Our ashes are swept away

Little soldier boy will not come home

But know of this and pray

When your flame burns out and Agni claims you

We will remember your name."

The song ended on a long, bittersweet note and the band bowed themselves away. The head Fire Sage stepped forward onto the raised dais, next to the mass of white that was General Iroh's fallen body. The great Dragon of the West, flame burned out at last.

"Iroh, Prince of the Fire Nation," his voice echoed into the sky, "General of the Fire Nation and Dragon of the West. You were a wise and dedicated leader and esteemed General to our people. You were father of Lu Ten, now passed. Husband of Ya Ming, now passed. Brother of Ozai, now passed. Uncle of Zuko and Azula. You will be remembered as a great hero of the Fire Nation, and of the world.

"We lay you to rest."

The words resonated hollowly within his chest as the Fire Sages lit his uncle's pyre. He should be feeling proud right now, he recognized – Katara had written those words herself. But instead he felt nothing.

Zuko stood with his nation before him and his uncle's ashes behind him, and as he cried openly, unashamedly, the sky (having mocked him enough, perhaps) cried with him.

This is the first part of my entry for Zutara Week Day 6: Faded. I originally made this story in a different format - with music. Please view that version! I think the music really enhances the story. It can be viewed at its own website, w w w . zw 2012 day 6 faded . webs .com