"Are we sure that the Avatar is here?" Zuko grumbled, leaning on a wall.
"Well, we're not sure," I shrugged. "But Omashu's the most likely place he would make a stop in."
"We came here based on a guess?" Zuko glared.
"It's an educated guess," I corrected, shaking my finger at him.
"Calm down, Prince Zuko. Ren is right," Iroh quickly butted in before the Fire Nation Prince erupted. "The Avatar has to master the elements according to order. He must head to the Northern Water Tribe to achieve mastery in waterbending, and Omashu is the most significant settlement in between."
"Are we even sure that he's not learning waterbending at the moment? He came from the Southern Water Tribe. Surely one of them must know a thing or two about bending water." Zuko argued, crossing his arms.
"There could be a waterbender with him, but that won't be enough." I began, trying not to give up too much information. "He needs a master to be a master—some average waterbender won't be enough."
Well, that's false. Katara is not just any average waterbender. She's one of the most talented waterbender in history after all. Still, must quell the flaring rage of the bald prince.
"Don't worry Prince Zuko," Iroh patted his nephew's shoulder, "we will definitely encounter the Avatar one way or another."
Zuko just turned his head away, but I saw his shoulders sag a little. He's calm, so that's good. Would be a shame if I have to wrap a metal plate around his mouth just to shut him down.
Anyway, we're in Omashu. It's been a rough ride heading here, but we got in nonetheless. It was a little shaky dealing with the guards though. Had to resort to bribing, which costs me half my entire net worth. But it's fair, they only thought we're some wanted criminals—which is true for my case, but they're not really on it with my Fire Nation General and Prince companions.
That's on them though.
So we're inside, golly.
Now what?
We wait.
I still remember the plot of the story and what happened with a few memorable episodes, and their exploits in Omashu is one of them. I'm not sure how many days have they been here already, but from the lack of any gossips about the king riding the delivery cart with a bald kid tells me that they definitely haven't left yet. Probably still in the Royal Palace having some fun. Well, Bumi definitely is, don't really know about Aang at the moment. Probably mad? Or exasperated? Vexed? I don't know.
That aside, me and my fiery companions are currently in one of the alleyways at the merchant district in Omashu. There's a guy selling cabbages in a cart just a few meters away. My Avatar knowledge had taught me that sticking with the cabbage guy will always bring you close with the Avatar and his gang. So that's what we're doing right now.
Even so, it does get a little boring just waiting out here. And also a little hot. As for Iroh and Zuko, it's an entirely different matter. Their faces are too well-known, so they had to wear hooded robes to hide their identity. Iroh looked unperturbed, and Zuko doesn't really look any different. Firebender perk? To be fair, it would be stupid if you're bummed with a little heat when you're a firebender.
Right, I'm getting sidetracked.
No one's speaking, so I guess I should at least try to get closer with my beloved acquaintances.
Crossing my arms, I turned to the pouting Zuko. He's not really pouting, just inwardly fuming. But it's the same thing anyway.
"By the way, Zuko," I began, "how long have you been trying to capture the Avatar?"
"First of all, it's Prince Zuko." He glared, though I think he doesn't really mean it. I think it's just his natural resting eye shape. Which would be terrible for socializing. Anyway, he continued, "And to answer your question, it's been two years."
"Rough. And how old are you now?" I asked once again.
"Why do you even want to know?" He asked back, eyes narrowed.
"I'm curious." I shrugged. It was the truth.
He stared for a while, before turning his gaze down and relenting. "I'm 15."
Fifteen huh? He's really just a kid. Still doesn't excuse the attitude though. For someone from a royal lineage you would expect modesty and decorum. He's such a frontrunner from breaking stereotypes and molds.
"That makes me curious too." Iroh joined in, turning to me. "How old are you now, Ren?"
Me? Well, I don't know actually. I did gain consciousness in this body a year ago, so that's at least one if we're counting either body age or how long I've been in this body. Though it probably isn't the wisest if I revealed that I stole this body after dying in an entirely different universe.
But I do look quite similar in age with my old body, so I think I'll just assume that I'm of the same age. Hopefully that's true.
"I'm 21." I answered.
"You're still young," Iroh hummed in thought, "yet you already have a fearsome reputation around your name. I don't know whether to feel proud or scared."
"Well, mercenary work tends to be a little loud. But there's people out there that are infinitely more horrendous in both character and prowess." I replied.
"Why did you decide to be a mercenary in the first place? With someone of your abilities, it would do you best to work in the Earth Kingdom military or as a teacher. I'm sure some noble would pay hills of gold to get your teachings." Iroh added. Zuko is also listening too, judging by the twitching of his ears.
"Well," I thought for a moment, "it's a bit complicated. I was a tad bit too hot-headed back then and decided to just go with the easiest option. Before I realized my options, it was too late—had a bit too much blood on my hands and a hundred thousand gold in my head in a silver platter."
"A tragedy, I see." Iroh hummed, running his hand down his beard.
I don't really know if tragedy is the word to describe it. Moreso a stupid decision without any prior introspection. It's all on me, not blaming anyone else for that. Do I regret being a mercenary? I do. But that doesn't mean I won't just act like I'm a good person. I've taken lives before, and grown numb to it. I saw families mourn the headless corpse of their father whom I've taken the life of for a mere hundred gold.
It does sting, knowing that I'm not who I was a year ago. This world changed me a lot—led me into being desensitized to the value of a human life. For being a children's show, this world is really more than what meets the eye.
Indeed, there are moments where I thought of if what I'm doing is worth it. And it's not. I could've been someone different—I still can be someone different. I'm not suffering from self-hate or PTSD, I'm aware of what I'm doing and why I'm doing it.
I'm slowly taking steps into fixing this life. When I took the bounty related to the Avatar, I figured I might as well join them in their journey and be some type of teacher that teaches the beautiful sacred fragility of human lives. Unfortunately, that didn't work out and I ended up a part of the series antagonist' group. But eh, it's still wholly different from breaking into corrupt nobles' houses and taking their corpse with me to earn some gold.
Let's see where this path takes me in the end. Hopefully, it's not something that I'll regret.
"You remind me of my sister." Zuko spoke, voice low. He hasn't even turned away from looking at the passing populace right outside the alley.
Azula? I remind him of her? Now that's quite an interesting take. In what way? I don't think I've displayed any psychopathic tendencies before.
Okay, maybe I did, but it's not like I have the "better than thou" attitude when I'm doing it. Now now Zuko, comparing me to Azula is a little bit too far.
"I do agree with the assessment, Prince Zuko." Iroh followed. "While Ren doesn't really have Princess Kaen's personality and mannerism, he does overlap with her in some interesting ways."
Princess who now?
"Sorry, Princess what?" I asked, just a tad bit confused. I'm quite sure there isn't any Kaen in Zuko's family tree during the entire series.
"Princess Kaen. Firstborn of Fire Lord Ozai. Sister to Prince Zuko and Princess Azula." Iroh answered, turning towards me. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of her name."
Well, probably because she's not in the fucking canon? What the hell is this new addition?
Zuko said nothing, his jaw tightening slightly.
"She was… different," Iroh continued, tone neutral. "Even among the Fire Nation's royal family, she stood apart. A prodigy—perhaps the most gifted firebender in our history. But of course, it wasn't just her talent. It was the way she carried herself. Cold. Controlled. Calculated. Like a harsh winter clad in blazing fire."
I frowned. "Sounds charming."
"She wasn't raised to be charming," Zuko muttered, as if reminiscing a traumatic event. "She was raised to be perfect."
Well, isn't that lovely? Another psychopath from the royal family? The entire family really needs therapy at this point.
"She never lost a duel. She never failed an exam. She was a general at sixteen. And yet…" Zuko paused. "People feared her more than they admired her."
"Even so, she was also the only one who ever spoke kindly to the servants," Iroh added softly. Zuko flinched a little. "The only one who stayed silent when Azula taunted others. She's a walking contradiction—fire and frost."
My mouth twitched a bit. "And I remind you of her?"
Zuko glanced at me briefly, then looked away. "You're nothing like her on the surface. You talk too much. You make unfunny remarks often. You're a sociopathic extrovert."
I had to stop myself from sending a boulder into his face.
"But…" he continued, "you fight like her. Unrelenting and precise. You both make people forget to breathe."
Well, I think the latter is literal. Still, I sort of see his point. My fighting style is primarily based around my proficiency in my bending—and that meant being head-on and accurate.
Iroh smiled. "You and Princess Kaen are alike in power, but different in soul. She burns like an inferno beneath a frozen shell. You walk like morning mist, but strike like falling stone."
"That's an interesting way of calling me a psychopath," I muttered.
Iroh just smiled.
***
The garden was quiet.
Afternoon sunlight spilled gently across the stone tiles, casting long shadows along the manicured hedges and koi ponds of the Fire Nation villa. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and ash.
A young lady knelt in the farthest corner of the courtyard, where a small patch of earth broke the symmetry of the stone paths. Her crimson robes pooled around her like silk woven with fire itself, untouched by the dirt clinging to her gloves.
A flower had been planted there once.
Now, only blackened soil remained. The petals had long been scorched to ash.
Her fingers hovered over the dirt, then slowly moved to place a new bloom. It was bright red with a white fringe. The flower nestled inside the soft hole the lady had dug. She pressed the soil around its stem with careful, gentle movements.
Behind her, a pair of Fire nation guards stood at the edge of the garden path, silent. Their posture was straight and rigid—not out of discipline, but fear. They made no effort to approach, their eyes fixed on the stone, never daring to meet hers.
The lady said nothing.
The flower stood alone now, surrounded by a faint ring of scorched stone that marked the last one's grave. Her hands retreated to her lap, the light breeze brushing strands of coal-black hair across her face.
Her amber eyes stared at the new flower in silence.
It was such a small thing. Soft. Frail. Alive.
And yet… how many things had she touched that hadn't turned to cinders?
She reached out again, almost instinctively, but stopped. The tips of her fingers hovered just above the petals, trembling slightly. Then, she withdrew.
She stood, wiping her hands on a cloth from her belt. As she turned away, her shadow fell long across the stones.
"Let's leave," she spoke, and the guards twitched.
"Yes," they bowed, "Princess Kaen."
The flower remained.