The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 66: Rescue

The hours before dawn were the coldest. A pale bluish mist clung to the peaks surrounding the caldera of the Fire Nation capital, but deep beneath the palace, no sun could pierce the rock. Down here, the very concept of time seemed to wither.

In the lowest level of the dungeon, cut directly into black volcanic stone, the walls were slick with moisture and the scent of ash and mildew clung to every breath. A dozen elite firebenders stood around a thick, reinforced chamber, their armor dulled by long hours of waiting, their torches sputtering low.

“I can’t believe we’ve been stuck in this place the whole night,” one of them muttered, tapping the butt of his spear against the stone.

“How do you know it’s been all night?” another replied. “For all we know, it’s been two days already. Or two hours.”

“Just shut up and do your job,” barked Lieutenant Tau. He stepped forward, his boots echoing across the chamber as he approached the sealed door. Beyond it lay the Avatar, chained and unconscious.

Standing silently inside was Commander Zhao, his arms folded behind his back, eyes fixed on the barely stirring figure at the center of the room.

Tau approached slowly, pausing just outside the doorway. “Do you think their plan worked?” he asked, voice low.

Zhao didn’t turn. “It didn’t seem like it.”

Tau frowned. “Then what is Zuko planning? What could he possibly want with the Avatar, if not to kill him outright?”

Zhao finally turned to face him, his eyes narrowed in thought. “That’s what I can’t figure out. He’s very secretive, gone behind the Fire Lord’s back. Maybe the Avatar is like some… artifact.”

Both men fell silent, staring at the boy chained to the stone platform. Aang’s body was limp, still pale from the effects of poison and confinement, his head slumped low.

“I guess you guys don’t know the prince like I do,” came a gruff voice from him.

Before Zhao or Tau could react, Aang stirred.

He groaned, head lifting slightly. His eyes fluttered open, first unfocused, then suddenly sharp. Zhao smirked. “Well, look who’s finally awake,” he sneered.

BOOM.

A massive shockwave of fire exploded from the entrance, knocking both Zhao and Tau off their feet. They flew backward like rag dolls, slamming into the far wall with a crack and collapsing to the floor, unmoving.

Four men stepped through the smoke, their movements swift and silent. The hallway behind them was a mess of crumpled bodies, twenty of the twenty-four guards taken down without a sound by those four. Each of the newcomers wore the armor of palace elite, but it was clear now: these were no loyal soldiers.

One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, strode to the center of the chamber and knelt beside Aang. With a sharp tug, he peeled off the false beard glued to his face.

“Are you okay, Aang?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Aang blinked. “Sokka? Took you guys long enough.”

“We had to avoid getting suspicion of the real Zhao’s men,” Sokka said, not without a grin. “Be glad you’re still breathing.”

“Just get me out of these chains,” Aang groaned.

Another of the rebels approached, pulling out a ring of stolen keys. With practiced hands, he unlocked the shackles binding Aang’s wrists and ankles. The metal clattered to the floor as Aang slowly sat up, rubbing at the angry red marks on his skin.

He tried to stand but faltered. Sokka caught him, slinging one of Aang’s arms over his shoulders. “Whoa there. I got you.”

The leader of the group, his face still hidden under a soldier’s helm, walked past Aang to the far end of the chamber, where the wall of dark volcanic rock loomed. He turned to one of the others. “Sulan. Do your thing.”

A mountain of a man stepped forward, dropping into a low stance. The air around him shifted, and he placed one hand against the stone.

“About a hundred meters beyond this wall,” the leader said, “is our escape route from the caldera. No one knows it exists. Let’s keep it that way.”

Sulan took a deep breath.

He moved toward the earthen wall with swift purpose. He widened his stance, left foot planted firmly behind, right foot slightly ahead. His knees bent, arms spread in a sweeping arc before dropping to his sides. With a sharp stomp and a dual punch forward, the ground rumbled as the wall ahead cracked and shifted.

A long, narrow tunnel was revealed, dark, damp, and sloping slightly downward, as if burrowed hastily. The stale air rushed out with the scent of moss and iron-rich stone.

“Where’s Katara?” Aang asked weakly, his voice rasping from thirst and fatigue.

“She’ll meet us at the rendezvous point,” the leader, Kujan, replied without turning, his tone steady but clipped. “Now move.”

Just as Sulan turned to seal the tunnel behind them, a burst of searing fire shot through the air and singed the wall near his hand. He recoiled instantly, barely avoiding serious burns.

“We have to move, now!” Kujan shouted, drawing his blade as he motioned forward.

Sulan took the lead again, his hands pressing into the walls of the tunnel, shifting the earth ahead with practiced precision. Rocks parted. Loose soil rippled. Their path continued forward with every bending motion he made.

Behind them, the distant voice of Commander Zhao echoed down the tunnel. “STOP THEM! I SAID STOP!”

Tau’s voice followed, frantic and furious. “They’ve taken the Avatar!”

The rebels ignored them.

They moved quickly, the entire escape taking little more than a minute before the tunnel opened out onto the rim of the caldera. A soft, cold breeze hit their faces. Morning was close, but not yet here. The stars still twinkled faintly above the dark horizon.

“Collapse the tunnel behind us,” Kujan ordered sharply.

Sulan stepped forward and took a stance, his feet planted wide and firm, knees bent, arms spread out like tree trunks. Just as he raised his hands to bend the earth, a sudden burst of fire shot out from the tunnel’s mouth. The flames licked the stone above and nearly burned his hands, forcing him to stagger back with a grunt.

“We have to move fast,” Kujan barked. “Go!”

They started running downhill along the side of the caldera, the narrow path slick and crumbling in places. Sulan took the lead, using heavy, rhythmic stomps of his heel and sweeping motions of his arms to open more tunnel segments as they moved.

Behind them, the voices of Zhao and Tau echoed faintly. “Stop! You won’t escape!”

But none of them hesitated.

As they descended, Sokka, with Aang slumped over his back, barely conscious from the poison, called out between breaths, “Where’s Lieutenant Jee? And Appa?”

“At the rendezvous point,” Kujan answered without looking back. “They’ll meet us there.”

A rustle came from the thicket just off the path, and suddenly, Lieutenant Jee burst out, followed by a younger soldier. Both were slightly out of breath, soot smudging their faces.

“What took you so long?” Jee snapped.

“The tunnel was longer than we anticipated, sir,” Kujan answered immediately.

“Were any of you seen without your disguises?” Jee asked, already scanning their faces.

“No, sir. We knocked everyone unconscious, except Zhao and his lieutenant. They’re still coming.”

“Good.” Jee’s expression hardened as he turned to Sulan, who had climbed back up, panting and bruised.

“Sulan,” he said, “earn your freedom. Slow them down.”

Sulan gave a nod, pulling into a low horse stance with his palms turned downward. He pressed them forcefully into the ground and the entrance behind them crumbled with a heavy roar. Then, extending his arms wide, he bent a deep trench into the earth, shaping it into a broad, jagged crevice that stretched nearly twenty feet across and even deeper below.

No ordinary soldier could cross it, not without falling into darkness.

“That should slow them down,” Sulan said, breathing heavily.

Jee stepped forward beside him. With a fluid, circular motion of his arms and a fierce forward thrust, a sheet of fire burst from the ground on the far side of the crevice, forming a wall of blazing flame that danced high into the air, obscuring all behind it.

“Let’s go,” Jee ordered.

Without another word, they began their descent down the slope of the caldera, the dirt path winding like a scar across the volcanic hillside. The sky above was still dark, only the faintest indigo stretching across the horizon.

Suddenly, an explosion tore through the sealed tunnel. A blast of molten rock and sparking lightning shattered the air as stone and ash burst outward. From the debris, a trail of blue-white sparks flickered like shattered stars.

Zhao shot out of the smoke like a missile, fire roaring beneath his feet, propelling him through the air. His arms crossed to shield himself as he blasted through the wall of flame Sulan and Jee had left behind. Fire spiraled around him like armor.

He landed hard on the other side of the crevice, flames skidding across the earth under his boots.

But it was too late.

Darkness greeted him. Silence.

And then, he saw it.

The bison rose above the trees in the distance. The bison’s saddle was full, the Avatar was there, his friends with him. Rising higher with every beat of the bison’s tail.

“I WILL NOT LET YOU ESCAPE!” Zhao bellowed.

He raised his hand, spinning his torso with precision and fury. His fingers glowed with intense light before he thrust them forward. A bolt of lightning cracked through the sky like a divine spear, but the bison turned just in time, the arc missing by inches.

“No!!” Zhao roared.

He threw his head back and launched a towering plume of flame into the air, a burst of rage and power that lit the morning sky just as the first sliver of sun crested the horizon.

But the sky answered only with silence, as the Avatar disappeared into the clouds.

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