The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 45: The Return to Omashu

Omashu rose from the green jungle mountains like a city carved by giants for a race of playful, stone-bending gods. From the air, it was a breathtaking, impossible spectacle. Terraced gardens and homes were sculpted directly into the vertical cliffs, connected by a dizzying network of chutes, ramps, and stone bridges. The great central chasm, the city’s lifeblood and playground, wound through it all, a deep, green ribbon of moving stone and rushing air. Even from a distance, the air hummed with the low groan of shifting earth and the faint, echoing shouts of citizens riding the mail chutes.

Appa descended in a wide spiral, his shadow passing over the tiered rice paddies on the outskirts and the bustling outer markets. The difference from the frozen, somber North Pole was jarring. Here, life was loud, messy, and vibrantly, unapologetically alive. The city had never known siege, never seen Fire Nation banners on its walls. It was a fortress of unbroken tradition and chaotic joy.

And today, it was celebrating.

As Appa’s six legs touched down in the vast, stone-paved Royal Plaza, a roar went up from the thousands of people gathered. They had been waiting. The plaza was a sea of green and ochre, of waving Earth Kingdom flags and flower garlands. The news of the Avatar’s victory at the North Pole, the shattering of the Fire Nation fleet, the salvation of the Moon Spirit, had flown across the world on hawk-wings and merchant gossip. To the people of Omashu, who had lived in defiant security for a century, Aang was not just the Avatar returned; he was a living legend, proof that their stubborn freedom had been the right choice all along.

”Aang! Aang! AANG!” The chant was thunderous, shaking the very stones.

Aang, seated on Appa’s head, felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with the warm, humid air. He waved, a shy, tentative smile on his face. The adulation was overwhelming. Just weeks ago, he had been a scared kid in the Spirit Oasis, feeling Katara’s water wrap around him, hearing Kuruk’s dire warning. Now he was a hero. The disconnect was dizzying.

Sokka slid down from the saddle, landing with a grunt and immediately striking a heroic pose, puffing out his chest. ”And his brilliant strategist, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe! Also here!” The crowd cheered for him too, which made him grin even wider.

They were met at the base of the palace steps not by stern guards, but by a delegation of beaming officials and a troupe of dancers whose movements caused tiny, beautiful stone flowers to bloom at their feet. The path to the great arched doors of the palace was lined with people reaching out to touch Aang’s robes, their faces alight with hope and gratitude.

”See, Aang?” Sokka whispered as they walked. ”This is more like it! Parades! Cheering! Not gloomy ice and people looking at you like you’re a bomb about to go off.”

Aang nodded, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. He was searching the crowd, half-expecting, half-dreading to see a flash of blue or a familiar head of white hair. He saw neither.

The great doors of the palace, carved with badger-moles and mountains, swung open silently. The cacophony of the plaza faded, replaced by the cool, echoing quiet of the throne room. It was a vast, airy chamber, lit by shafts of sunlight from high windows. The floor was a mosaic map of the Earth Kingdom. And at the far end, on a throne that was little more than a large, polished boulder, sat King Bumi.

He looked exactly as Aang remembered, and yet completely different. His wild, white hair stood out in all directions like a shocked cloud. His muscular frame, visible even under his simple green tunic, seemed to vibrate with contained energy. But his eyes, one wide and staring, the other squinted nearly shut, held a depth of knowing that cut through Aang’s hero’s façade instantly.

Before Aang could even bow, Bumi was off his throne. He didn’t walk; he seemed to flow across the floor, his movements unnervingly fluid for a man of his apparent age and bulk. In a blink, he was in front of Aang, his large hands clamping down on the boy’s shoulders.

”AHHHH-HA-HA-HA-HA!” Bumi’s laugh was a seismic event, echoing off the stone. He shook Aang gently. ”Little Aang! All grown up and saving the world! I knew you’d come back! I flipped a coin, and it landed on its edge, which meant you’d arrive on a Tuesday, or maybe a Flying Bison! Turns out it was both! HA!”

Aang couldn’t help but laugh, the genuine, infectious joy breaking through his somber mood. ”Bumi! It’s so good to see you again!”

Bumi released him and turned his manic gaze on Sokka. ”And the meat-and-sarcasm guy! You’re taller! And you have a new smudge of soot on your left elbow! Interesting!”

Sokka looked at his elbow, bewildered. ”I… do?”

Bumi zoomed back to his throne and plopped down, crossing his legs. ”So! The Water Tribe girl with the scary eyes and the nice hair! Where is she? I was going to challenge her to a staring contest. I can pop one eye out, you know. It would be a tie!” He demonstrated by bulging one eye out alarmingly far.

Aang’s brief moment of levity vanished. He and Sokka exchanged a look. ”Katara… she’s missing, King Bumi,” Aang said, his voice quieting the room. ”During the siege. We… we don’t know where she is.”

Bumi’s playful expression didn’t change, but the manic light in his eyes seemed to focus, intensifying. ”Missing. Like a lost sock. Or a forgotten thought. Tricky.” He leaned forward. ”And the Fire Prince with the crispy face? The one who was chasing you?”

”Most people think he’s dead,” Sokka said bluntly. ”We’re… not so sure.”

”HA!” Bumi barked, slapping his knee. ”Smart! Dead people are the most unpredictable! They have no schedules!” He then waved a dismissive hand. ”But enough of missing things! You are here! And the war is over! Which is boring, but also good! Time for new things! Like introductions!”

He gestured grandly to a side entrance. ”My family! They have been waiting to meet the famous Avatar and his boomerang-wielding shadow! Last time you didn’t get to meet them last time because I had sent them away to stay away from the war!”

A woman entered first. She was in her mid-forties, with a strong, handsome face, her dark hair streaked with grey and tied in a severe, practical knot. She wore robes of deep forest green, but they were cut for movement, not ceremony, and she moved with the grounded, alert stride of a soldier. This was Queen Lian.

Following her was a young man of about nineteen, tall, broad-shouldered, with his mother’s serious eyes and his father’s strong jaw. He wore the uniform of an Omashu Royal Guard captain. He gave a sharp, respectful nod to Aang and Sokka. This was Crown Prince Dao.

Next came a pair, a boy and a girl, both fifteen, vibrating with identical, mischievous energy. They shared their father’s wild hair and their mother’s sharp gaze, and they were struggling not to giggle as their mother shot them a warning look. The twins, Lin and Wei.

Lastly, a girl of about twelve skipped in. She had a bright, curious face and an air of thoughtful maturity that belied her age. She studied Aang with open, intelligent interest. Princess Suyin.

”Family!” Bumi announced, as if presenting a fascinating collection of rocks. ”Lian, my rock and my rolling pin! She keeps me from floating away or digging to the center of the planet before breakfast!” Queen Lian offered a patient, long-suffering smile and a correct bow to the Avatar.

”Dao! My boy! He likes rules and straight lines! Very confusing, but useful for running things when I’m busy thinking about the taste of gravity!”

Prince Dao’s cheek twitched, but he remained stoic.

”The Giggle-Monsters, Lin and Wei! They think I’m funny! A common and tragic delusion!” The twins finally burst into laughter, earning another fondly exasperated look from their mother.

”And little Su! She asks questions even I haven’t thought of! Very suspicious!” Princess Suyin just smiled serenely.

Aang and Sokka bowed formally. ”It’s an honor to meet you all,” Aang said.

”Honor-shmonor,” Bumi said, bouncing to his feet again. ”You’re here! That’s what matters! We must have a banquet! A feast of a hundred courses! We’ll eat upside-down! We’ll serve the soup last! It will be madness! Glorious, delicious madness!” He turned to Lian. ”Wife! Make it so!”

Queen Lian placed a firm hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back towards his throne. ”A banquet,” she said, her voice calm and commanding, ”will be arranged. A traditional banquet. With the soup first.” She gave Aang an apologetic look that was full of warmth. ”Welcome to Omashu, Avatar Aang. My husband has spoken of nothing else since you left. Your deeds at the North Pole have given hope to the entire kingdom.”

”Thank you, your majesty,” Aang said. He then looked at Bumi, the playful energy in the room allowing him to voice his heavy thoughts. ”King Bumi… a lot has happened since I was last here. I… I learned more about my duties as the Avatar in the North. The siege… seeing the devastation, the loss… it made the Hundred Year War real in a way it wasn’t before.”

Bumi’s face grew still. All the manic energy seemed to draw inward, leaving a core of ancient, razor-sharp perception. ”War is a fungus,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. ”It grows in the dark, wet places of the heart. You saw its fruit. A bitter harvest.”

Aang nodded, his throat tight. ”And now Katara is missing. The world thinks Prince Zuko is dead. But I have to keep moving. I have to learn earthbending. Avatar Kuruk told me I have until the end of summer.”

Bumi’s one good eye widened almost imperceptibly. ”Kuruk, eh? The sad fisherman. He gave you a deadline. How rude.” He scratched his chin. ”End of summer… that’s when the comet comes back. The one that makes firebenders into blowtorches. Interesting deadline.”

He suddenly clapped his hands, the sound like a cracking stone. ”So! Earthbending! You want to learn from the best? The maddest? The most brilliant earthbender in all the world?”

”That’s why I’m here,” Aang said, a spark of his old determination lighting in his eyes.

”GOOD!” Bumi roared, his madness returning in full force. ”First lesson is tomorrow at dawn! We’ll start with something simple! Like listening to a rock! Or having a conversation with a pebble! Or building a castle out of pudding! The possibilities are endless and slightly sticky!” He winked his bulging eye. ”But for now… BANQUET! Let the madness begin!”

As Bumi began issuing bizarre and impossible orders to the servants who had appeared, Queen Lian shepherded Aang and Sokka away, offering them rooms to freshen up. The twins immediately attached themselves to Sokka, pelting him with questions about the North Pole and sea prunes. Princess Suyin walked beside Aang, her thoughtful eyes watching him.

”You seem sad, Avatar Aang,” she said quietly. ”Even with all the cheering.”

Aang looked at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. ”I am,” he admitted. ”I have a lot to do. And I miss my friend.”

Suyin nodded as if this made perfect sense. ”Dad says the best way to find a lost thing is to stop looking directly at it. He says the universe is shy and hides things in plain sight when you stare too hard.” She smiled. ”Maybe your friend is like that.”

Aang managed a small, real smile. ”Maybe.”

As he was led to a guest chamber overlooking the churning green heart of Omashu, the weight of Kuruk’s warning settled over him again, but it was tempered now. Here, in this city of unbreakable stone and unquenchable life, with a mad genius for a teacher and a deadline written in comet-fire, his training would begin. The path to the end of summer started here, in the echoing laughter of a king and the deep, patient silence of the earth itself.

[A/N: The story has officially reached its conclusion on ! If you don’t want to wait for the remaining 100+ chapters to be released here, you can head over to .com/saiyanprincenovels and read the complete story right now. Thank you to everyone who has followed this journey and supported the story along the way!]