Chapter 37: Fire Prince Awakens
Zuko awoke to pain.
It crawled over every inch of his body like fire ants, sharp and insistent. His ribs screamed with every breath, and his back throbbed with deep aches that pulsed like war drums. His eyes blinked open slowly, the dimness of the room doing little to soften the raw throb behind them. It took a moment before he realized where he was.
The ceiling above him was stone, roughly carved and stained with soot from countless candles and oil lamps that had once hung here. The air was dry and bitter, thick with the stale scent of charred wood and old poultices. He was alone. The cot beneath him was hard, its thin blanket barely worth the title. The bandages wrapped around his torso were tight, too tight, but he appreciated the discomfort. Pain reminded him he was still alive.
He didn't cry out. Not even a grunt. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay still. A moment of stillness, then breath. Another.
He lay there, his golden eyes fixed on nothing, caught in the churning storm of memory.
Bumi.
Like a storm in human form. Like the earth itself decided to stand up and throw fists. Zuko had known the man was strong, he wasn't an idiot but nothing could've prepared him for that. The earth obeyed Bumi's every gesture as if gravity itself bowed to him. He moved like a mountain with the speed of lightning, every attack as creative as it was crushing.
And then there was Iroh.
The man he had known all his life. The man who had once laughed at tea leaves and sunrises. He had watched that same man breathe fire and shape it into art. He had watched as Iroh matched Bumi blow for blow, the ground itself splitting beneath them, the very air igniting with each strike.
Zuko swallowed, the motion sending a wave of fresh agony across his side.
He had fought Bumi. Or tried to. He had pushed beyond his limits, driven by desperation, by rage, by pride. And what had it gotten him? Blood. Broken bones. The realization, horrible and cold, that he was still far from where he needed to be. That even after everything, his manipulation, his political chess games, his mastery of tactics, he was not ready.
He had thought, maybe, he was beginning to reach the level of masters. After Zhao. After the South Pole. After Kyoshi. But this?
Zuko shut his eyes again.
There were tiers.
There was firebending. Then advanced firebending. Then people like Azula, prodigies with power and talent wrapped in a razor-sharp mind. And then... then there was Iroh. Then there was Bumi. And perhaps somewhere even higher, there was someone like the Fire Lord or Avatar Kyoshi before them.
He wasn't at their level. Not yet.
But he would be.
The thought didn't come with rage or desperation this time. It came with... clarity. His pride had taken a blow, but not his resolve. No, this only confirmed what he had already started to suspect in the pit of his soul since the night he met the foreign airbender in the black abyss.
He needed more.
More power. More control. More knowledge. Not just of fire, but of the other elements. Of bending itself. Of ki. Of energy. Of the strange spiritual forces he kept brushing shoulders with. The future he had set into motion was no longer something he could coast through on knowledge alone. This world had changed because of him and now it demanded more from him than it ever had from the Zuko who came before.
'Victor Krane,' he thought faintly, remembering the name no one here would know.
'You didn't come all this way to be humbled.'
He pushed his hand slowly toward the side of the bed, gripping the edge and forcing himself upright. His body groaned. His skin felt tight. Sweat formed across his brow. But he sat.
Even in the ashes, the ember that burned inside him hadn't gone out.
Not yet.
A soft knock tapped twice against the doorframe before it creaked open, no guards, no fanfare. Just her.
Azula stepped inside like a whisper of smoke, her steps sharp and deliberate. She was dressed in the red-trimmed silk of an honored guest, not the full formal attire of a princess, meaning this visit wasn't for appearances. Her golden eyes flicked over Zuko as he sat hunched on the edge of the cot, shirtless and heavily bandaged.
"You look like someone tried to cook you alive," she said lightly, her hands clasped behind her back. "Which, knowing you, wouldn't be the first time."
Zuko didn't answer immediately. He looked at her, blinking once. His eyes were shadowed but alert. "Did you come to gloat?"
Azula clicked her tongue. "Would I ever do something so petty?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to list the times?"
She gave a tiny smirk but said nothing. For a moment, the silence lingered between them, unusually civil. Then Azula's gaze narrowed. She stepped forward, drawing closer into the lamplight.
"I heard you tried to take on the Mad King himself," she said, her voice quieter now. "Is it true?"
Zuko looked back down at the floor, the memory of Bumi's insane strength still burned into his muscles. "Tried is a generous word."
Her eyes studied him. The bruises were darker now, peeking from beneath the bandages. His hands were scraped, his lips split. He didn't even flinch when he moved, either from discipline or the simple futility of showing weakness.
"You lost," Azula said flatly.
"Yes," he admitted.
She tilted her head slightly. "And yet you're still alive."
"That part wasn't up to me."
Azula's jaw twitched, just slightly. "Uncle?"
Zuko gave a faint nod.
She turned her back to him for a moment, folding her arms. "So the old dragon still has his fire. I was wondering."
Zuko shifted, drawing in a breath that made his ribs ache. "Why are you really here, Azula?"
Azula paused at that, still facing the wall. Her voice, when it came, wasn't laced with venom. "Because everyone's treating you like you're made of glass. Rushing around, acting like you're going to collapse at any second."
He didn't deny it.
"Even Rin was pacing outside like a worried mother hen before I told him to go get something useful done." She glanced over her shoulder. "You hate pity more than pain, don't you?"
"You're not wrong."
She turned back fully. "Then you'll be happy to hear I brought you something."
Zuko gave a dry look. "A dagger to finish me off?"
Azula rolled her eyes and tossed a folded letter onto the small table near the bed. "Updates from the command tent. Kuvak's casualty numbers. His proposal for troop rotation. A report from Ensign Lee about the fleet's ships and crew manifests."
Zuko reached for the letter with slow fingers, his expression sharpening despite the pain. "I didn't think you'd play messenger."
"I didn't. I intercepted it. I thought you might want to hear it from someone who won't stutter when you bleed on the floor."
He gave her a humorless smile. "How considerate."
She studied him in silence for a moment, then moved toward the cot's edge. Her arms crossed again.
"You've changed," she said finally.
Zuko looked at her sidelong, wary. "How so?"
"The Zuko I remember wouldn't admit he lost. He'd break something instead. Curse the skies. Blame me."
"I still might do all of those things," he muttered.
"No," Azula said. "You won't. That version of you died a long time ago." She took a breath. "The one sitting here... this one's different. Less of a fool. Still an idiot, but... less so."
He let that sit a moment, then asked, "And what does that mean?"
"It means," she said, brushing nonexistent dust from her sleeve, "you're finally starting to become the man you've been pretending to be."
Zuko blinked at that, unsure whether to take it as an insult or not. He settled on silence.
Azula turned to leave but stopped at the door.
"The council will be meeting in three hours," she said. "They'll not expect you there."
"I'll be ready," Zuko said.
She looked at him, hard. "Make sure you are. Because the next time the earth shakes, it won't be Bumi."
Zuko watched her go. The door creaked shut behind her.
For a while, he just sat there, staring at the faint flicker of candlelight on the stone wall. He hadn't said it, not aloud but he knew what she meant.
Next time, it wouldn't be a battle of survival.
It would be a war of legacy.
A knock came once again. Then another. Followed by Rin's voice, firm, familiar, controlled.
"Prince Zuko. May we enter?"
Zuko blinked toward the door. "Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing Rin first, dressed in his regulation officer's jacket, only the collar was loose, undone in rare comfort. Behind him was Ensign Lee, stiff and proper as always, posture upright like he was reporting to the Fire Lord himself.
"The Princess informed us you were awake," Rin said as they stepped in.
"She didn't mention interrogating me in the process," Zuko muttered as he reached for his water cup.
Lee, without asking, took the liberty of adjusting the room's lantern slightly to let in more light. "Forgive the intrusion, my prince. But… there is much to discuss."
Zuko drank, wincing as he did. "Then start. What happened? How long was I out?"
"Three days," Lee answered bluntly.
Zuko blinked, his jaw tightening. "Three?"
"Precisely seventy-eight hours, give or take," Lee said, folding his arms behind his back. "The healers initially thought your internal injuries would worsen. Broken ribs, a cracked femur, some minor burns, and a possible concussion."
"I didn't ask for a damn inventory," Zuko grunted. "Just the time."
"You asked what happened," Lee said plainly. "That is what happened."
Rin cracked a subtle smirk at the exchange but cleared his throat. "There have been no new incidents since the battle. The Earth Kingdom forces pulled back completely, but it was a tactical retreat. Not a surrender."
Zuko looked down into his water. "And our people?"
Rin's eyes narrowed slightly. "We lost almost a third of the outer camp personnel in that initial surge. The siege shattered half our supply caches. If Admiral Kuvak hadn't arrived when he did…"
Zuko raised a brow. "So Kuvak did show up."
Lee nodded. " With him came nearly five thousand troops, six siege-class vessels amongst the total 25 sheeps that came, an entire detachment of military engineers, and curiously two high-ranking strategists from the Royal Academy."
Zuko sat back, processing that. "And he's taken command?"
"No," Rin said. "He's been careful. You're still officially the commanding figurehead in Nan-Hai. But…"
Lee stepped forward. "But in practice, Admiral Kuvak has instituted a complete reorganization of our military structure here. He's overhauled the port's security, instituted double shift rotations, reassigned lieutenants based on their performance during the last engagement, and personally took charge of repairing the damaged artillery batteries. In short, he's brought order."
Rin crossed his arms. "Efficient. But watchful."
Zuko's lips tightened. "He's still my father's eyes."
"Yes," Lee said. "And I dare say he's very good at it."
The three sat in silence for a moment, the air heavy with the realization that the tides of control had begun to shift, even without words spoken. Zuko had been out three days, and the battlefield had changed hands without a single duel.
"You'll need to make a move soon," Rin said finally.
Zuko nodded slowly. "I will."
Lee adjusted his cuffs. "For now, shall I compile a full report of Admiral Kuvak's new command layout? I believe understanding his restructuring could assist in future planning, assuming you wish to take command back."
Zuko gave the young ensign a long look, then smirked faintly. "Yes. Do that. And include everything, right down to who he lets stand near him at breakfast."
Lee bowed. "As you command, my prince."
"And Rin," Zuko added as Lee turned to leave.
"Yes?"
"Have the healers prepare a mobility brace. I want to be walking by tomorrow."
Rin gave a small sigh. "You should be resting."
"I've been doing nothing but resting."
Rin's eyes narrowed. "You can barely stand."
Zuko looked at the sunlight spilling through the window and clenched his jaw. "Then I'll crawl."
Zuko leaned back slowly into the bed, the ache in his ribs pulsing like a second heartbeat. The pain was constant, familiar now but not welcome. He turned his gaze toward Rin and Lee, still standing near the foot of his bed.
He drew in a breath and asked, "Where is my uncle?"
Both men exchanged a look.
"He's still on base," Rin answered first. "He never left after the siege ended."
Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Then why isn't he here?"
"Well he also had injuries so he's… been keeping to himself," Lee answered. "Mostly walking the perimeter. Sometimes alone by the cliffside, sometimes along the wreckage of the harbor. Talking to the soldiers. Helping them where he can."
"Why?" Zuko asked, his voice low and heavy.
Rin hesitated. "I think the battle shook him, sire. Not the fighting, he's fought worse. But something about that fight. The weight of it. The aftermath. Seeing you like that."
Zuko exhaled slowly. "Did he say anything?"
"Not much," Rin said. "Just that you were alive. That the worst had passed. He's been… meditating a lot. Alone."
Zuko swung his legs over the edge of the bed, grimacing as his side screamed in protest. He clutched his ribs but didn't stop moving.
"I want to speak to him," he said.
"My prince, you're still recovering," Lee started.
"This is fucking important!" Zuko snapped.
Rin stepped slightly backward, concern clear on his face. "Let me bring him to you…"
"No. I go to him." Zuko's voice left no room for negotiation.
Rin reluctantly nodded. "Very well. He's usually near the old cliffside barracks this time of morning."
Zuko grabbed his outer robe and pulled it on slowly. Every movement sent bolts of pain through his battered frame. But he didn't care.
"I have questions only he can answer."
He reached for his boots and sat down slowly, methodically.
And as he dressed, the flame behind his eyes rekindled.
This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers!]