The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 39: Webs of Deceit

The communications tower loomed over the port, its obsidian spire clawing at the ashen sky. Princess Azula strode through the gates, her boots clicking against the volcanic stone as Fire Nation soldiers snapped to attention. Their uniforms, crimson tunics layered with black armor, helmets embossed with the flame insignia, gleamed under the harsh midday sun.

“The chief is expecting me,” Azula declared, not breaking stride.

“Yes, Princess!” a soldier barked, stepping forward. “Shall I escort—”

“I know my way,” she cut him off, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The tower’s interior was a labyrinth of smoke-stained corridors. An endless mountain of papers and repots and scrolls in every floor and every room. Azula ascended the spiral staircase, her reflection flickering in the polished metal walls. At the top floor, she pushed open the heavy iron door to Chief Hiroshi’s office.

The room smelled of ink and burnt parchment. Chief Hiroshi, a wisp of a man with a silver beard and spectacles perched on his nose, rose from his desk. Flanking him were two operatives: a young woman in loose Earth Kingdom garb, her hair braided with beads, and a broad-shouldered Fire Nation officer whose uniform bore the insignia of Zhao’s naval division.

“Welcome, Princess…” Hiroshi began.

“Are these the leaders of the operatives?” Azula interrupted, her gaze slicing past him to the pair.

“Y-yes,” Hiroshi stammered. “Lieutenant Daisuke oversaw reconnaissance at Commander Zhao’s naval base. Miss Nalia infiltrated Kyoshi Island.”

The operatives bowed. “An honor to meet you, Princess,” they chorused.

“I’m sure it is,” Azula said, settling into Hiroshi’s chair without invitation. “Report. Start with the naval base.”

Daisuke cleared his throat. “Prince Zuko’s ship docked at Zhao’s base eight days ago. The damage was minor, they could’ve easily sailed to the capital. Yet they stayed to resupply.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “According to witnesses, Prince Zuko clashed with Lieutenant Tau over disrespect shown to General Iroh. Commander Zhao intervened, inviting them to lunch… while secretly ordering Lieutenant Tau to investigate Prince Zuko’s ship.”

Azula’s fingers drummed the desk. “And what did Tau find?”

“The crew claimed Prince Zuko had captured the Avatar… and let him escape.”

“Convenient,” Azula muttered. “Zuko admitted as much at the banquet, but framed it as a ruse. Was it?”

“Commander Zhao confronted him about this,” Daisuke continued. “They argued and harsh words were exchanged. Ultimately Prince Zuko challenged him to an Agni Kai.”

Azula held up a hand. “I know how that ended. What matters is what happened after.”

Daisuke hesitated. “Prince Zuko lost. Badly. But the commander’s victory made him arrogant. He stopped pursuing the prince’s ship.”

Azula’s lips twitched. “Zuko’s plan worked. He wanted Zhao to underestimate him.” The realization burned. ‘Everything he said at the banquet was true. He made it all seem like it was a ruse but he told the truth as if he was hiding something and even dared me to expose it.’

She turned to Nalia. “Kyoshi Island. What did my brother do there?”

Nalia’s voice was steady, but her knuckles whitened on the edge of the desk. “Prince Zuko arrived days after the naval incident. The Avatar was already in chains. Villagers say the prince arrived with the Avatar already captured.”

“This confirms it,” Nalia confirmed. “Prince Zuko lied to Commander Zhao. He did capture the Avatar at the South Pole, then let information leak purposefully that had him escape as part of some scheme.”

“So if he already had the Avatar captured when he reached Kyoshi, what exactly was he doing there?” Azula asked.

---

Zuko’s footsteps echoed through the cavernous corridor leading to the war room, his mind churning with strategies. As he rounded a corner, Lieutenant Jee materialized from the shadows, his weathered face grim.

Zuko glanced around, empty. “Report.”

“As you suspected, sire,” Jee murmured. “Princess Azula’s agents are digging into our movements. They’ve questioned crewmen about Kyoshi Island… and Commander Zhao’s base.”

“And my father?”

“The Fire Lord’s spies are subtler. We haven’t identified them yet.”

Zuko’s jaw tightened. “Keep the men silent. If anyone talks—”

“They won’t,” Jee said firmly. “But there’s more. Commander Zhao arrived at the port last night.”

Zuko’s pulse spiked. “Zhao? Here?”

“Yes. He’s been sequestered in the guest quarters. No audience with the Fire Lord yet.”

Zuko forced his breathing steady. ‘Azula’s probing. Zhao’s sudden arrival. Father’s silence.’ The pieces were aligning dangerously.

“Maintain vigilance,” he ordered. “And Jee, no one breathes a word of Kyoshi. Understood?”

“Of course, my prince.”

As Jee melted back into the shadows, Zuko stared at the war room’s gilded doors.

“One misstep, and this web strangles us all.”

He pushed opened the doors and stepped in to the room.

The war room hummed with the low crackle of flame and the clatter of armor as Fire Lord Ozai’s council assembled. A massive obsidian table dominated the space, its surface etched with a glowing map of the Earth Kingdom. Omashu’s mountainous terrain pulsed red, a jagged scar in the heart of enemy territory. Zuko arrived at his father’s right, his scarred eye narrowed as he studied the map. Across the table, generals and admirals in immaculate crimson uniforms exchanged wary glances, the prodigal prince’s return had upended their carefully curated hierarchies.

Fire Lord Ozai lifted a hand, silencing the room. “Omashu remains unconquered. Its king may rot in old age, but its people cling to defiance. We will correct this.” His golden eyes flicked to Zuko. “My son has walked among the Earth Kingdom’s vermin. He will provide… perspective.”

The unspoken challenge hung in the air. ‘Prove your worth.’

Admiral Rong, a grizzled tactician with salt-and-pepper hair, stabbed a finger at the map. “Omashu’s tunnels render traditional siege tactics useless. Earthbenders collapse our advances before we breach the outer walls. I propose a naval blockade of the western riverways. Starve them into submission.”

General Mak, a bullish man with a neck thicker than his skull, snorted. “Starve them? Why waste time? Burn the surrounding villages. Let their refugees flood Omashu’s gates. When the city buckles under the strain, we crush it.”

Zuko stepped forward, his voice cold. “And how many divisions will you sacrifice pacifying the survivors? The Earth Kingdom’s loyalty is to their land, not their king. Burn their homes, and you create martyrs.”

General Shinu, his chin marred by an old Earth Kingdom axe wound, sneered. “What would ‘you’ know of loyalty, Prince Zuko? You spent three years chasing ghosts.”

Zuko’s gaze sharpened. “I know that Omashu’s strength isn’t its walls—it’s the trade routes snaking through the mountains.” He traced a path on the map with a gloved finger. “Merchant caravans bypass your blockades here, here, and here. They’re run by nonbenders who care more about coin than kings. Turn them. Promise safe passage in exchange for information on Omashu’s supply caches. Lastly General Shinu, I did find that little ghost of yours. I will not stand such disrespect from you again.” He warned with a venomous tone.

The challenge was laid down early. This was not the same Zuko they knew. If anyone dared provoke him he was more than willing to show them their place.

Admiral Rong raised a skeptical brow. “And when these merchants betray us?”

Zuko’s smile was a knife. “Then you burn their caravans after they lead you to the caches. Fear and greed are sharper than fire.”

A murmur rippled through the council.

General Bujing, gaunt and hawk-faced, stepped into the flickering light. His voice dripped with disdain. “A pretty strategy for a pirate, not a warrior. Omashu’s earthbenders will retreat into their tunnels the moment we advance. Crushing them requires overwhelming force.” He gestured to a valley north of the city. “Lure their army here. Sacrifice a division as bait. When they commit, incinerate them all.”

The room chilled.

Zuko turned slowly, his golden eyes locking onto Bujing. “Ah, General Bujing. Still peddling sacrifice as strategy. Tell me, how many of the 41st Division did you burn at Garsai? Two thousand? Three?”

Bujing’s knuckles whitened. “War demands sacrifice.”

“No,” Zuko said, stepping closer. “War demands victory. You’ve had three years to take Omashu. Yet here we are.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Perhaps you should lead the charge this time. I’ll light your pyre myself.”

Bujing’s hand twitched toward upward as if ready to summon the fire, but Ozai’s voice cracked like lightning.

“Enough.”

Zuko stepped back, his expression smooth. “Of course, Father.”

General Hark, a wiry strategist with a serpent’s grin, broke the silence. “Why choose one tactic when we can combine them? Admiral Rong blockades the rivers. General Mak harasses the villages, but spares the granaries. Let Omashu’s people believe they can flee to safety… only to find their stores already claimed by our agents.”

Zuko nodded. “And while their army scrambles to protect the hinterlands, we strike here.” He tapped a narrow mountain pass west of Omashu. “The Earth Kingdom garrisons are stretched thin defending the coast. A swift assault inland forces them to split their forces. Omashu’s defenders will be isolated.”

Admiral Rong stroked his beard. “Risky. If the Earth Kingdom reinforcements arrive—”

“They won’t,” Zuko interrupted. “Their generals are too proud to abandon the coast. They’ll assume the mountain strike is a feint.”

Fire Lord Ozai steepled his fingers. “Admiral Rong, you will secure the rivers. General Mak, burn the villages, but leave the granaries intact. General Hark, coordinate the misinformation campaign. Bujing…” His gaze lingered on the disgraced general. “You will oversee the blockade. Fail again, and your ashes will fertilize the Si Wong Desert.”

As the council dispersed, Zuko lingered by the map. Admiral Rong approached, grudging respect in his tone. “You’ve changed, Prince Zuko. Three years ago, you’d have challenged Bujing to an Agni Kai.”

Zuko didn’t look up. “Everyone grows up in some way General. Bujing’s irrelevance will be punishment enough.”

In the corridor outside, Azula leaned against the wall, her smirk razor-thin, having just returned from her debrief. “Bravo, Zuzu. Playing general suits you. But remember, Father’s favor is fickle.”

Zuko brushed past her. “Save your theatrics for the circus, Azula.”

As he strode away, his mind churned. Omashu’s fall will buy time… but at what cost? The faces of Earth Kingdom villagers, ones he’d bartered with, fought beside the old Zuko, flashed in his mind.

Sacrifice. The word tasted like ash. The memories of the original Zuko helped a great deal in there. The only strategy he knew he learnt playing Age of Empires. Fortunately for him, the old Zuko spend most of his time imagining himself back in that room. On his travels he had had studied the earthbenders and their people hoping to one day conquer them as part of the Fire Nation. The crowning ceremony wouldn’t come in fast enough. He had to be out there where he could change things properly.

He had to be out in the world to see how much things had really changed. Characters like Zhao were just the start of things changed, he suspected.

[A/N: Can’t wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on .com/saiyanprincenovels.]