The ascension of Fire Lord Iroh would have been a great thing if not for the circumstances behind it. The Dragon of the West would have made competent leader indeed…if not for the circumstances behind his rise to power. Practically all holdings on the Earth Continent was lost, the Capital City was invaded, and the Avatar made a show of defeating Fire Lord Ozai with the help of the latter’s own daughter.
It was obvious that Iroh was placed on the throne by the Avatar and Azula’s design. The Dragon of the West was at best an accomplice at the downfall of the Fire Nation, or at worst a mere pawn to help keep the Fire Nation collared and leashed. The recent news of peace and a return to normalcy spread by criers or pamphlets barely masked the bitter truth: The Fire Nation had ultimately lost the war, and with that, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes would be coming to carve out their pound of flesh.
That the Earth Kingdom had fractured gave no comfort at all, as it meant that there were many more factions that would seek to milk the Fire Nation dry.
The effects of the coming reparations were already felt; even before Iroh took the throne, the chaos of Azula’s ruthless campaign saw many noble houses culled down to obedient servants that accepted severe reduction in status and wealth in exchange for continued existence. What was given up to the throne was either gifted to loyal lackeys, or stored away as reparation payment.
Few were stubborn and foolish enough to resist, and none made it past Iroh’s and Azula’s ‘negotiations’. The balance of power between the nobility and the throne had tipped overwhelmingly over to the latter, further enhanced thanks to the campaign of humiliation enacted by the spiteful princess to denigrate families by revealing supposed acts of incompetence, corruption and treachery.
She had the gall to lay the blame of the loss of soldiers on the commanders that led them, while conveniently glossing over the fact that her treacherous hands were the one responsible for slaughtering loyal warriors of the Fire Nation in the first place. She and her damnable Scorpion Dragon had wielded their rebellious knowledge to exploit the weaknesses of the Fire Nation, from standard doctrine to established defenses, resulting in the shattering of its armies and the invasion of the capital.
Like several of his peers, Count Isahara bent the knee to the new regime reluctantly, because the necessities of survival dictated it. If circumstances had been different, he knew he’d be glad to have Iroh as Fire Lord. But the consequences of defeat and the puppeting of the Fire Nation was unacceptable.
The count’s family wealth and holdings, generations of carefully cultivated prosperity, was forfeit literally overnight, and he was forced to content himself with owning only a single island with barely enough people in it to form a fishing village. And it came at the cost of his sons, two who were declared killed on the continent, while his eldest and heir was a victim to Azula’s terror spree. Isahara’s wife had divorced him to seek a newer, more profitable union with one of Iroh’s new sycophants, while his only daughter had betrayed the family and fled to Ba Sing Se.
It was a severe understatement that Count Isahara wanted to reverse his current fortunes. It was also why he quickly linked up with his old friends, friends who had all suffered the same humiliation as he did. And it didn’t take much for a simple plan to form among them.
All of them remained in the capital to attend court, rather than further depress themselves by tending to what’s left of their wealth. They bowed and scraped before Iroh, tolerated the haughty bitch Azula’s smugness, and played along to the Avatar’s naive ideas.
But at the same time, Isahara and his friends listened. They listened for the signs of fellow comrades who shared their resentment, and cautiously recruited them. The new and returned nobility could not be trusted, but old houses like Isahara’s had to be vetted, especially those that had their old patriarchs or matriarchs culled and were now led by heirs.
They listened to what was unfolding within the Fire Nation, seeking opportunities. Iroh’s rule was impressively airtight against infiltration, mostly due to the palace staff being completely replaced. The military would prove no simple font of information either, with how many of them had been elevated by Iroh to fill the top ranks. They’d be loyal to him…for now at least.
But that didn’t mean that all hope was lost. The ‘peace summit’ was only made tolerable because of how it took up the throne’s attention, allowing the count and his friends greater freedoms. Simply being in court and feigning obeisance had allowed the disgruntled nobles access to the off-handed conversations between Iroh and Zuko. They also got to pick up on whispers that inevitably drifted among those officials who served within the Fire Lord’s inner council.
Among the rumors of particular note was the fact that Azula and Xing would be returning to Ba Sing Se after the summit was done to begin their so-called exile. And Iroh would be transferring Ozai out of the palace dungeons shortly after that, either to be sent to the Boiling Rock facility, or to be put on public trial and summarily executed during the height of Sozin’s Comet. The Avatar would not be sticking around either, as he’d be heading off to arbitrate the infighting within the Earth Kingdom.
It’d be a grand gesture indeed. Ozai might be a powerful firebender, but would be just as powerless as everyone else if he was wrapped in chains. Supposedly, one of the ways they would be keeping him docile was to dunk the ex-Fire Lord into a vat of blasting jelly.
It was an…effective method, Isahara and his friends begrudgingly admitted. It also had the nasty benefit of making any attempt to break Ozai out a lot more hazardous.
But yet it was an opportunity. A slim opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless.
Ozai was the disgraced nobles’ ticket back into prominence. He was a poor Fire Lord and had been the ultimate cause of the Fire Nation’s downfall, but he was still a potent rallying point nonetheless for those resentful against the terms being imposed by the Avatar. If they managed to free him, the Fire Nation would likely be split between the royal brothers.
It would put the pitiful peace that the Avatar sought in jeopardy, which, if Isahara’s clique played their cards right, would allow for compromises to the peace plan. Ozai would be their bargaining chip to force Iroh to undo the changes to the upper class’ status quo. If they could not regain the colonies, then at the very least the old houses would see a return of their stolen wealth.
Or, if they could somehow manage it, Iroh could be taken out of the picture completely and replaced. Ozai would be made to understand the debt he owes his loyal houses, and the balance of power between the throne and the nobility would be shifted to the latter’s favor.
It would be preferable to install the more stable but still pliably young Zuko, but like Iroh he would have far too many supporters already for Isahara and his friends to make a puppet of him. The clique did not have access to highly trained assassins like Azula did for that kind of play to happen.
So they had to settle for Ozai, then. Free Ozai, and, if possible, assassinate or oust Iroh. From there, use Ozai as a negotiating piece, or support his reascension to the throne.
It was an ambitious plan, but considering how weak the Fire Nation was right now, the plan was still achievable. Iroh’s supporters were still establishing themselves on their undeserved holdings, and the palace staff was still under half strength. Meanwhile the conspirators had sons and brothers returned from the continent with just enough of their command to provide the manpower needed.
So long as Azula and Xing, and their potent military escorts, were absent, Isahara and his friends had a shot at this. A few of the more mercantile minded nobles ran through the estimates, and they all agreed that it would be a close thing. With the arrival of Sozin’s Comet every firebender would find their powers multiplied, which might make things a stalemate in a fight within the Fire Nation if not for the fact that it would greatly amplify the advantage of surprise.
A firebender caught off guard was just as helpless and vulnerable as a nonbender, Sozin’s Comet or not.
Plans were meticulously crafted, and Isahara endured browning his nose just to gather every scrap of detail that he could to contribute to the cause. They needed to know the whens and wheres, the hows and whats. The count spent days swallowing his intolerance to carousing with Iroh’s lackeys. He put up a mask of unconditional friendliness, while expertly plucking at whatever strands he could loosen.
Through the necessary ordeal he learned that Ozai’s guards were earthbenders, loaned from Xing, and already a metal carriage packed with blasting jelly and fire powder was ready to transport him. Iroh was planning to put his brother up on trial as soon as the summit was over, the results of which would decide whether Ozai would be marched to the chopping block or or be humiliated in a rigged duel before being sent to the Boiling Rock prison island come Sozin’s Comet.
Just as interestingly, Isahara’s friends learned that Zuko, the heir, would be announcing his betrothal to Ukano’s girl, Mai. The disgraced former governor was rendered a destitute vagrant after the chaos, having been disowned by his wife and daughter. With some conjured promises, he was roped in to offer insight that might help the clique gain access to Mai. Unfortunately that investment was unfruitful, but Ukano was retained within the clique, just in case.
Count Isahara and his fellow conspirators spent two weeks hammering out the details of their ambitious uprising. The summit was over by then, with the Earth Kingdoms and Water Tribe trespassers finally leaving, and the young rulers of Ba Sing Se along with them to attend to their city.
The Avatar was taken on a tour of the Fire Islands by Zuko. Whispers suggested that he was helping find the prince’s missing mother, though nobody truly believed that preposterous excuse. The more plausible reason was that the Avatar might be making his presence clear throughout the Fire Nation, to keep the population cowed.
Regardless, so long as he was out in the islands, so long as Azula and her Scorpion remained in Ba Sing Se, the conspirators would have an easier time in the capital city when the day finally came. After that, once they succeeded, then they’d have enough political power to make even the psychopathic princess talk on their terms. It was that or risk the stability of the Fire Nation and the new, nascent balance of the world.
The big day finally came, and neither Avatar nor bloodthirsty princess returned to the capital, by ship or by air. Those courtiers still in court sent word that Fire Lord Iroh was leaving the palace with a heavy escort. Too heavy to attempt an assassination.
No matter. A secondary objective was a bust, that was all.
Other compatriots rushed to the rendezvous points to confirm that Ozai was transferred into the prison carriage, and that a crowd was gathering in the Capital City’s main square.
The window to seize the reins of fate had opened, and Count Isahara and his fellow conspirators began to march out of the few manors left to them. Those with large enough estates saw dutiful soldiers, hosted under the pretext of processing their compensation and post-war fates, stream out of the tent villages in their full kit. Others poured out from fully-booked inns and, taking a page from Azula’s playbook, abandoned buildings. In little under an hour, under the increasingly orange morning skies, no less than a thousand loyal and dissatisfied Fire Nation warriors marched through the streets in multiple, hundreds-strong groups. Eyes were kept to the glowing skies, and to everyone’s relief it remained clear of dragons and flying machines.
The confused citizens wisely kept out of the way, while those few city guards who took their duties too seriously had to be chased down and bound up so as to not give up the game too early. Their destination was not the city square itself, but the main road Ozai’s carriage traveled on.
Isahara could feel the chi in his veins grow warmer as the comet approached and he joined his comrades in storming the road as the carriage came into sight. The city guards along the road were quickly overwhelmed and overpowered, and gratifyingly, the meager carriage escorts fled rather than put up a fight.
As the comet became visible overhead, the small army took defensive positions in and around the road, while Count Isahara and the core group of nobles had the privilege of opening the carriage to rescue Ozai.
They found the former Fire Lord, sat in plain and clean robes, staring at them with surprise, and then disgust.
Typical of the clueless and unsubtle idiot.
“Fire Lord,” Duke Fuzhi greeted with some haste, “we’ve not much time. Hurry, let us get you out of here.”
“Fools. You damn me with your stupid act.”
Lord Mitsuo stepped up to immediately reply, putting up a smooth and calm act as easily as ever. “There is no foolishness, Fire Lord. We’ve a sizable force with us, and we can keep you safe and free. But time is short, and the power brought by Sozin’s Comet will wane soon.”
Ozai actually looked conflicted, and he stared at them for a moment before sighing. “No. They have no doubt made preparations for this.”
“With all due respect, Fire Lord,” Isahara cut in, his patience straining, “we’ve taken all precautions. Your daughter and the Scorpion are not here. The Avatar is not here. Your brother might just be made aware of this, but rest assured that we are ready to hold off his retaliation. But we can only stall him for so long. You need to come with us. Now.”
The words seemed to finally break through Ozai’s dense head, and he looked ready to rise up.
And then Isahara saw his breath frost, and felt his skin prickle from a sudden, intense chill. Pangs of cold stabbed into his lungs. He saw, with much confusion, his colleagues breaking into shivers just as he did, with some going pale.
Then the ground beside the carriage rose up and fell away like a hatched shell. The count recognized the smirking prince and princess, and the Avatar’s blind companion, the two girls dressed in heavy furs.
Xing’s voice was far too smug. “Why, hello there. Cold weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
His answer came in the form of nearby nobles and soldiers punching and kicking out, but to Isahara’s surprise, the flames came out in pitiful puffs before the cold fully snuffed them out. And then the air became colder, and Isahara was not the only one who dropped to the ground wheezing painfully, unable to scream as his skin and lungs and mouth were stabbed by a million icy needles. His vision blurred, it hurt to even blink, and his hearing became muffled.
“You know, I was expecting this to hurt a lot,” the boy continued, ignoring the fallen, shivering men around him trying to firebend more than small licks of fire as he shrugged. “Thank the spirits I guess. My princess?”
While the count fought to stave off the stabbing cold, Azula grinned darkly and slowly turned her head to regard the shivering mob around her. “On behalf of my uncle, Fire Lord Iroh, and with the Avatar’s companion as witness, I hereby charge all of you with treason against the Fire Nation.”
As the comet soared overhead, Isahara and his comrades were left at the verge of a cold death, the manyfold increase in firebending that the celestial occurrence brought doing nothing at all to stop eyes and tongues and throats from freezing over. Having Iroh’s men collect them was a blessing, as it meant that the cold finally let up. The comet’s effects were still felt, but left almost blinded and deafened, and tasting melted blood with each excruciating breath, the conspirators were in no shape to put up the fight they’d planned for.
“We really should’ve brought some healers over,” Isahara barely heard the prince say through his warming ears as he was dragged away.
The princess was cruelly indifferent in her response. “We’re following the letter of Aang’s and my uncle’s agreement with us. The Fire Nation asked Ba Sing Se for our aid specifically. The Avatar allowed the exception to our supposed ‘exile’. They didn’t mention healers, so it’s their oversight.”
Isahara’s last, blurry sight was that of the princess’ form staring at her father’s, who was still sitting in the carriage. He couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but there was no mistaking the smug, triumphant pose she held over Ozai’s resentful but powerless hunch.
The ascension of Fire Lord Iroh would have been a great thing if not for the circumstances behind it. The Dragon of the West would have made competent leader indeed…if not for the circumstances behind his rise to power. Practically all holdings on the Earth Continent was lost, the Capital City was invaded, and the Avatar made a show of defeating Fire Lord Ozai with the help of the latter’s own daughter.
It was obvious that Iroh was placed on the throne by the Avatar and Azula’s design. The Dragon of the West was at best an accomplice at the downfall of the Fire Nation, or at worst a mere pawn to help keep the Fire Nation collared and leashed. The recent news of peace and a return to normalcy spread by criers or pamphlets barely masked the bitter truth: The Fire Nation had ultimately lost the war, and with that, the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes would be coming to carve out their pound of flesh.
That the Earth Kingdom had fractured gave no comfort at all, as it meant that there were many more factions that would seek to milk the Fire Nation dry.
The effects of the coming reparations were already felt; even before Iroh took the throne, the chaos of Azula’s ruthless campaign saw many noble houses culled down to obedient servants that accepted severe reduction in status and wealth in exchange for continued existence. What was given up to the throne was either gifted to loyal lackeys, or stored away as reparation payment.
Few were stubborn and foolish enough to resist, and none made it past Iroh’s and Azula’s ‘negotiations’. The balance of power between the nobility and the throne had tipped overwhelmingly over to the latter, further enhanced thanks to the campaign of humiliation enacted by the spiteful princess to denigrate families by revealing supposed acts of incompetence, corruption and treachery.
She had the gall to lay the blame of the loss of soldiers on the commanders that led them, while conveniently glossing over the fact that her treacherous hands were the one responsible for slaughtering loyal warriors of the Fire Nation in the first place. She and her damnable Scorpion Dragon had wielded their rebellious knowledge to exploit the weaknesses of the Fire Nation, from standard doctrine to established defenses, resulting in the shattering of its armies and the invasion of the capital.
Like several of his peers, Count Isahara bent the knee to the new regime reluctantly, because the necessities of survival dictated it. If circumstances had been different, he knew he’d be glad to have Iroh as Fire Lord. But the consequences of defeat and the puppeting of the Fire Nation was unacceptable.
The count’s family wealth and holdings, generations of carefully cultivated prosperity, was forfeit literally overnight, and he was forced to content himself with owning only a single island with barely enough people in it to form a fishing village. And it came at the cost of his sons, two who were declared killed on the continent, while his eldest and heir was a victim to Azula’s terror spree. Isahara’s wife had divorced him to seek a newer, more profitable union with one of Iroh’s new sycophants, while his only daughter had betrayed the family and fled to Ba Sing Se.
It was a severe understatement that Count Isahara wanted to reverse his current fortunes. It was also why he quickly linked up with his old friends, friends who had all suffered the same humiliation as he did. And it didn’t take much for a simple plan to form among them.
All of them remained in the capital to attend court, rather than further depress themselves by tending to what’s left of their wealth. They bowed and scraped before Iroh, tolerated the haughty bitch Azula’s smugness, and played along to the Avatar’s naive ideas.
But at the same time, Isahara and his friends listened. They listened for the signs of fellow comrades who shared their resentment, and cautiously recruited them. The new and returned nobility could not be trusted, but old houses like Isahara’s had to be vetted, especially those that had their old patriarchs or matriarchs culled and were now led by heirs.
They listened to what was unfolding within the Fire Nation, seeking opportunities. Iroh’s rule was impressively airtight against infiltration, mostly due to the palace staff being completely replaced. The military would prove no simple font of information either, with how many of them had been elevated by Iroh to fill the top ranks. They’d be loyal to him…for now at least.
But that didn’t mean that all hope was lost. The ‘peace summit’ was only made tolerable because of how it took up the throne’s attention, allowing the count and his friends greater freedoms. Simply being in court and feigning obeisance had allowed the disgruntled nobles access to the off-handed conversations between Iroh and Zuko. They also got to pick up on whispers that inevitably drifted among those officials who served within the Fire Lord’s inner council.
Among the rumors of particular note was the fact that Azula and Xing would be returning to Ba Sing Se after the summit was done to begin their so-called exile. And Iroh would be transferring Ozai out of the palace dungeons shortly after that, either to be sent to the Boiling Rock facility, or to be put on public trial and summarily executed during the height of Sozin’s Comet. The Avatar would not be sticking around either, as he’d be heading off to arbitrate the infighting within the Earth Kingdom.
It’d be a grand gesture indeed. Ozai might be a powerful firebender, but would be just as powerless as everyone else if he was wrapped in chains. Supposedly, one of the ways they would be keeping him docile was to dunk the ex-Fire Lord into a vat of blasting jelly.
It was an…effective method, Isahara and his friends begrudgingly admitted. It also had the nasty benefit of making any attempt to break Ozai out a lot more hazardous.
But yet it was an opportunity. A slim opportunity, but an opportunity nonetheless.
Ozai was the disgraced nobles’ ticket back into prominence. He was a poor Fire Lord and had been the ultimate cause of the Fire Nation’s downfall, but he was still a potent rallying point nonetheless for those resentful against the terms being imposed by the Avatar. If they managed to free him, the Fire Nation would likely be split between the royal brothers.
It would put the pitiful peace that the Avatar sought in jeopardy, which, if Isahara’s clique played their cards right, would allow for compromises to the peace plan. Ozai would be their bargaining chip to force Iroh to undo the changes to the upper class’ status quo. If they could not regain the colonies, then at the very least the old houses would see a return of their stolen wealth.
Or, if they could somehow manage it, Iroh could be taken out of the picture completely and replaced. Ozai would be made to understand the debt he owes his loyal houses, and the balance of power between the throne and the nobility would be shifted to the latter’s favor.
It would be preferable to install the more stable but still pliably young Zuko, but like Iroh he would have far too many supporters already for Isahara and his friends to make a puppet of him. The clique did not have access to highly trained assassins like Azula did for that kind of play to happen.
So they had to settle for Ozai, then. Free Ozai, and, if possible, assassinate or oust Iroh. From there, use Ozai as a negotiating piece, or support his reascension to the throne.
It was an ambitious plan, but considering how weak the Fire Nation was right now, the plan was still achievable. Iroh’s supporters were still establishing themselves on their undeserved holdings, and the palace staff was still under half strength. Meanwhile the conspirators had sons and brothers returned from the continent with just enough of their command to provide the manpower needed.
So long as Azula and Xing, and their potent military escorts, were absent, Isahara and his friends had a shot at this. A few of the more mercantile minded nobles ran through the estimates, and they all agreed that it would be a close thing. With the arrival of Sozin’s Comet every firebender would find their powers multiplied, which might make things a stalemate in a fight within the Fire Nation if not for the fact that it would greatly amplify the advantage of surprise.
A firebender caught off guard was just as helpless and vulnerable as a nonbender, Sozin’s Comet or not.
Plans were meticulously crafted, and Isahara endured browning his nose just to gather every scrap of detail that he could to contribute to the cause. They needed to know the whens and wheres, the hows and whats. The count spent days swallowing his intolerance to carousing with Iroh’s lackeys. He put up a mask of unconditional friendliness, while expertly plucking at whatever strands he could loosen.
Through the necessary ordeal he learned that Ozai’s guards were earthbenders, loaned from Xing, and already a metal carriage packed with blasting jelly and fire powder was ready to transport him. Iroh was planning to put his brother up on trial as soon as the summit was over, the results of which would decide whether Ozai would be marched to the chopping block or or be humiliated in a rigged duel before being sent to the Boiling Rock prison island come Sozin’s Comet.
Just as interestingly, Isahara’s friends learned that Zuko, the heir, would be announcing his betrothal to Ukano’s girl, Mai. The disgraced former governor was rendered a destitute vagrant after the chaos, having been disowned by his wife and daughter. With some conjured promises, he was roped in to offer insight that might help the clique gain access to Mai. Unfortunately that investment was unfruitful, but Ukano was retained within the clique, just in case.
Count Isahara and his fellow conspirators spent two weeks hammering out the details of their ambitious uprising. The summit was over by then, with the Earth Kingdoms and Water Tribe trespassers finally leaving, and the young rulers of Ba Sing Se along with them to attend to their city.
The Avatar was taken on a tour of the Fire Islands by Zuko. Whispers suggested that he was helping find the prince’s missing mother, though nobody truly believed that preposterous excuse. The more plausible reason was that the Avatar might be making his presence clear throughout the Fire Nation, to keep the population cowed.
Regardless, so long as he was out in the islands, so long as Azula and her Scorpion remained in Ba Sing Se, the conspirators would have an easier time in the capital city when the day finally came. After that, once they succeeded, then they’d have enough political power to make even the psychopathic princess talk on their terms. It was that or risk the stability of the Fire Nation and the new, nascent balance of the world.
The big day finally came, and neither Avatar nor bloodthirsty princess returned to the capital, by ship or by air. Those courtiers still in court sent word that Fire Lord Iroh was leaving the palace with a heavy escort. Too heavy to attempt an assassination.
No matter. A secondary objective was a bust, that was all.
Other compatriots rushed to the rendezvous points to confirm that Ozai was transferred into the prison carriage, and that a crowd was gathering in the Capital City’s main square.
The window to seize the reins of fate had opened, and Count Isahara and his fellow conspirators began to march out of the few manors left to them. Those with large enough estates saw dutiful soldiers, hosted under the pretext of processing their compensation and post-war fates, stream out of the tent villages in their full kit. Others poured out from fully-booked inns and, taking a page from Azula’s playbook, abandoned buildings. In little under an hour, under the increasingly orange morning skies, no less than a thousand loyal and dissatisfied Fire Nation warriors marched through the streets in multiple, hundreds-strong groups. Eyes were kept to the glowing skies, and to everyone’s relief it remained clear of dragons and flying machines.
The confused citizens wisely kept out of the way, while those few city guards who took their duties too seriously had to be chased down and bound up so as to not give up the game too early. Their destination was not the city square itself, but the main road Ozai’s carriage traveled on.
Isahara could feel the chi in his veins grow warmer as the comet approached and he joined his comrades in storming the road as the carriage came into sight. The city guards along the road were quickly overwhelmed and overpowered, and gratifyingly, the meager carriage escorts fled rather than put up a fight.
As the comet became visible overhead, the small army took defensive positions in and around the road, while Count Isahara and the core group of nobles had the privilege of opening the carriage to rescue Ozai.
They found the former Fire Lord, sat in plain and clean robes, staring at them with surprise, and then disgust.
Typical of the clueless and unsubtle idiot.
“Fire Lord,” Duke Fuzhi greeted with some haste, “we’ve not much time. Hurry, let us get you out of here.”
“Fools. You damn me with your stupid act.”
Lord Mitsuo stepped up to immediately reply, putting up a smooth and calm act as easily as ever. “There is no foolishness, Fire Lord. We’ve a sizable force with us, and we can keep you safe and free. But time is short, and the power brought by Sozin’s Comet will wane soon.”
Ozai actually looked conflicted, and he stared at them for a moment before sighing. “No. They have no doubt made preparations for this.”
“With all due respect, Fire Lord,” Isahara cut in, his patience straining, “we’ve taken all precautions. Your daughter and the Scorpion are not here. The Avatar is not here. Your brother might just be made aware of this, but rest assured that we are ready to hold off his retaliation. But we can only stall him for so long. You need to come with us. Now.”
The words seemed to finally break through Ozai’s dense head, and he looked ready to rise up.
And then Isahara saw his breath frost, and felt his skin prickle from a sudden, intense chill. Pangs of cold stabbed into his lungs. He saw, with much confusion, his colleagues breaking into shivers just as he did, with some going pale.
Then the ground beside the carriage rose up and fell away like a hatched shell. The count recognized the smirking prince and princess, and the Avatar’s blind companion, the two girls dressed in heavy furs.
Xing’s voice was far too smug. “Why, hello there. Cold weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
His answer came in the form of nearby nobles and soldiers punching and kicking out, but to Isahara’s surprise, the flames came out in pitiful puffs before the cold fully snuffed them out. And then the air became colder, and Isahara was not the only one who dropped to the ground wheezing painfully, unable to scream as his skin and lungs and mouth were stabbed by a million icy needles. His vision blurred, it hurt to even blink, and his hearing became muffled.
“You know, I was expecting this to hurt a lot,” the boy continued, ignoring the fallen, shivering men around him trying to firebend more than small licks of fire as he shrugged. “Thank the spirits I guess. My princess?”
While the count fought to stave off the stabbing cold, Azula grinned darkly and slowly turned her head to regard the shivering mob around her. “On behalf of my uncle, Fire Lord Iroh, and with the Avatar’s companion as witness, I hereby charge all of you with treason against the Fire Nation.”
As the comet soared overhead, Isahara and his comrades were left at the verge of a cold death, the manyfold increase in firebending that the celestial occurrence brought doing nothing at all to stop eyes and tongues and throats from freezing over. Having Iroh’s men collect them was a blessing, as it meant that the cold finally let up. The comet’s effects were still felt, but left almost blinded and deafened, and tasting melted blood with each excruciating breath, the conspirators were in no shape to put up the fight they’d planned for.
“We really should’ve brought some healers over,” Isahara barely heard the prince say through his warming ears as he was dragged away.
The princess was cruelly indifferent in her response. “We’re following the letter of Aang’s and my uncle’s agreement with us. The Fire Nation asked Ba Sing Se for our aid specifically. The Avatar allowed the exception to our supposed ‘exile’. They didn’t mention healers, so it’s their oversight.”
Isahara’s last, blurry sight was that of the princess’ form staring at her father’s, who was still sitting in the carriage. He couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but there was no mistaking the smug, triumphant pose she held over Ozai’s resentful but powerless hunch.
