Half an hour passed. Iroh guided Kaen with a master's patience—adjusting his footing by a fraction, tilting his wrist just so, reminding him to breathe deep and steady. And Kaen? He moved like water poured into a mold. Every stance, every sweep, every punch—perfect. Almost too perfect. His fire snapped and curved as if it had been waiting for this moment all along.
Iroh, though impressed, masked it behind thoughtful hums.
Then—
A voice rang out from beyond the garden walls, young and sharp, carrying both curiosity and suspicion. "Uncle… why did you bring a boy to train firebending in our home?"
Both Kaen and Iroh turned. From the palace halls, a girl stepped forward, her amber eyes gleaming like twin flames, her posture already too poised for her age. Her smile was small, precise, dangerous.
Azula.
She crossed the garden's threshold, her steps measured, her gaze locked on Kaen with intensity. "Who is he? Why him?"
Iroh sighed, ever calm, though his tone held gentle warning. "Azula, I thought it would be good to guide a young talent, perhaps even give you a new friend. He shows promise—and promise deserves cultivation."
Azula tilted her head slightly, lips curving into that cruel, knowing smile. "A friend?" she repeated, as though the word itself were absurd. Her eyes flicked toward Kaen, assessing, dissecting. "Uncle… you really should know me better."
Then she added, voice dripping with honeyed venom: "I already told Father."
Kaen's breath caught.
The garden's air grew heavier as footsteps echoed from the hall. Shadows stretched along the stone as a tall, imposing figure emerged. His presence was fire itself—cold and searing at once.
Ozai.
Behind him, a squad of elite Fire Nation soldiers followed, armored and disciplined, each step in perfect rhythm. Their golden eyes swept the garden, their stances ready.
Ozai's gaze settled on Iroh first, unreadable, before shifting to Kaen. His voice, deep and resonant, carried no warmth. "Iroh… who is this boy?"
Iroh clasped his hands together, forcing a polite smile. "Ozai—what a pleasant surprise. I was under the impression you had a war council this evening." He inclined his head slightly, then gestured toward Kaen. "As for the boy, his name is Kaen. A firebending prodigy. And, incidentally, a most remarkable tea maker—he works in a shop not far from here. Truly, he has talent in both flame and leaf."
Ozai's eyes narrowed, the faintest curl of disdain tugging at his lips. "So, my esteemed brother has seen fit to bring a peasant into the royal garden. A servant of tea, training in the art of firebending." He tilted his head, studying Kaen as though he were no more than an insect under glass. "If this boy is a prodigy, as you claim, then it should pose no problem for him to prove it."
Iroh's smile faded, his shoulders stiffening. "Ozai—" he began, voice low, a warning in it.
But before he could finish, Kaen stepped forward. His voice cut clean through the tension, calm yet unwavering.
"…I accept."
The garden fell silent.
Azula's smirk widened with delight, her golden eyes glinting as though she'd just been handed a show. The elite soldiers shifted slightly, their discipline cracking in surprise. Even Ozai raised a brow, the faintest glimmer of amusement flickering in his gaze.
Only Iroh closed his eyes briefly, sighing as if he already foresaw the storm about to break.
Ozai's silence stretched like a coiled serpent, before he raised a single hand and gestured lazily toward his soldiers. "Test him," he ordered, his voice flat with authority.
The elite guards obeyed at once, stepping into the garden with precise discipline, their armored boots striking the stone in unison. They formed a semicircle around Kaen, their stances sinking low, fire already shimmering at their fists.
For a brief heartbeat, the air was still. Then—
With a roar of flame, the soldiers attacked in unison, fire streams cutting toward Kaen like whips of molten light.
Kaen's emerald eyes sharpened. He shifted—once.
To everyone's eyes but his own, he blurred. One instant he stood in the center, the next he was already at the soldiers' flank, his body moving with inhuman speed. His right arm sliced through the air in a practiced arc, fire blooming at his command.
A crescent of flame erupted—sharp, controlled, devastating. It tore through the semicircle in a sweeping wave.
The soldiers barely had time to cry out before the fire struck their armor, knocking them clean off their feet. They tumbled across the stones of the garden, smoke rising from scorched plating, groaning in pain but mercifully still breathing.
Silence followed.
Even Ozai's ever-composed expression cracked—his eyes narrowed, not in anger, but in the kind of interest he rarely bestowed upon anyone. Azula's smirk faltered for the first time, her lips parting as her golden eyes flicked between Kaen and the unconscious elites. Iroh's brows lifted, though his expression quickly folded into something more concerned than impressed.
Kaen exhaled slowly, his stance still steady.
From the palace steps, a small voice broke the silence. "What's going on here?"
Kaen turned, spotting a young boy—scrawny, with sharp features and a princely topknot—standing at the edge of the garden. He blinked once, and Kaen immediately guessed who he must be. Zuko.
"Father?" Zuko asked uncertainly, looking from the unconscious guards to Kaen.
Ozai didn't even glance at him. Instead, his lips curved into something faint, almost resembling approval, though it was colder than any smile. "Iroh. This boy is… definitely gifted." His tone was deliberate, every word weighted with calculation.
Then his gaze slid toward his daughter. "Azula," he said, voice deep, commanding. "Let us see how your firebending fares."
Azula's smirk returned in full force. She stepped forward with deliberate grace, eyes gleaming like molten gold as fire licked at her fingertips. "With pleasure, Father."
Azula wasted no time. She lunged, her body a blur of sharp precision, hurling a rapid barrage of searing blue fire. Each strike hissed through the air like lightning made flame, her movements fluid and merciless.
Kaen's emerald eyes tracked every motion, his instincts screaming at him to counter—but he didn't. Not yet.
He darted, weaving between the blasts, the garden filling with heat so intense the air shimmered. His feet kissed the stone, each step guided by his unnatural speed, the fire lashing inches from his body but never touching.
Not yet… I need to feel it.
From the sidelines, Zuko's voice rang with confusion, tinged with worry. "Uncle, what's happening? Why is Azula fighting him?"
Iroh's expression was heavy, the lines of his face shadowed in thought. His voice was low, almost weary. "I wish I knew, Prince Zuko. I wish I knew."
And then—
The golden script returned.
[Primordial Witness: Activated]
[Firebending — Chi Control: High Level Acquired]
Kaen's vision sharpened, every movement of Azula's flames mapped in perfect detail, every rhythm sinking into his bones.
Azula snarled, thrusting forward with a decisive blow—her fist wreathed in blazing blue fire, aimed squarely for his chest.
Kaen planted his feet. For once, he didn't dodge.
The strike hit. White-hot agony ripped through him, the force of the impact burning across his ribs. His body screamed, but his mind refused to yield. Pain Resistance. Heat Resistance. His skills flared, dulling the fire's bite, chaining his will tighter around the inferno.
Instead of falling back, he surged forward.
Quick Step. A blur.
One heartbeat Azula's confident smirk reigned, the next her golden eyes widened as Kaen crashed into her with high speed, forcing her down onto the stone.
In an instant he was on top of her, pinning her wrists, his body weight keeping her detained. His right hand blazed with blue fire, a sphere—roaring, alive, crackling like a star. Not orange. Not red. But blue.
Blue fire.
He thrust his arm directly at her face. The heat of it was unmistakable—Azula's own birthright reflected back at her.
Even Ozai's eyes widened, a flicker of genuine shock cracking through his mask of authority. Iroh froze, teacup slipping slightly in his hand. Zuko's jaw dropped, his young mind unable to grasp what he was seeing. Around them, the elite guards who had been knocked down earlier staggered back to their feet—only to freeze once more, unable to believe that Azula herself was now pinned beneath the boy.
And Azula—Azula's smirk shattered into something Kaen had never thought possible. A spark of fear.
Zuko's fists clenched at his sides, his chest tight. He's my age… and he beat Azula. Just like that. The thought hollowed him out, sinking into a pit he already knew too well—I can't even beat her, but he did… His gaze lowered, shame burning hotter than any fire he could summon.
Kaen slowly released Azula's wrists and rose to his feet. The princess rolled away in a flash, fury blazing in her eyes, blue fire sparking to life at her fingertips—only for a single, commanding word to crash over the garden.
"Enough."
Ozai's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"But Father!" Azula snapped, scrambling to her feet, her pride bleeding through her desperation. "I can still—"
"Do not talk back to your father." His gaze turned on her, sharp enough to pierce steel. Azula's jaw tightened, and the flames in her hands fizzled out.
Ozai stepped forward, his steps measured, deliberate. The elite guards stiffened, every eye tracking the Firelord as he loomed over the boy who had just humiliated his daughter.
Kaen stood tall, emerald eyes steady, not a flicker of fear betraying him.
"Tell me, boy," Ozai said at last, voice low and probing. "What is your origin?"
Kaen let his expression soften, practiced sadness clouding his features. His lie slipped out as smoothly as ever. "I… I'm from the colonies in the Earth Kingdom. My parents were killed by a resistance group. I escaped on a ship and ended up here, in the capital. Homeless. Orphaned. But…" He lowered his gaze, letting the weight of the words sink in. "Luckily, I found work at a tea shop. Without it, I would have starved."
A silence stretched. Then Ozai, the Firelord himself, lowered to one knee before him. A hand, warm with power and authority, settled on Kaen's shoulder.
"You have suffered much, Kaen," Ozai intoned, his voice carrying across the stunned garden. "But no longer. Here, within these walls, you will be treated as royalty. I will personally see to your training… and your protection. From this day forth… I will treat you as my son."
The words struck like thunder.
Zuko's eyes widened, jealousy searing through his shame, twisting it into something darker. Father never spoke to me like that… never once.
Azula's lips curled, but the smirk never reached her eyes. She stared at Kaen as though he had stolen something from her, a deep, gnawing hatred blooming beneath her envy.
And on the veranda, Iroh lifted his cup once more, sipping the last of his cooling tea. His sigh was soft, heavy, as his gaze lingered on the boy in the Firelord's shadow.