The courtyard echoed with the rhythmic beat of fists striking the air, fire flickering in bursts with every motion. Tai Lung moved fluidly, each step measured, each breath controlled, his mind and body aligned in harmony. The sun cast long shadows across the ground, glinting off his sweat-drenched brow.
Then he sensed a presence calm, composed, and heavy with authority.
Tai Lung paused mid-strike, turning his head toward the entrance of the courtyard. A tall man in a dark red uniform stood there, the uniform was different from regular uniforms, at a glance anyone who is not familiar with uniforms will still recognize it as a uniform of a high ranking soldier. The man's face was sharp, weathered by the elements of war, but his eyes were warm.
Tai Lung took a breath, bowed lightly, and said with calm respect, "Welcome back, Father. Glad to see you returned safe and sound."
Admiral Lung smiled, stepping forward with deliberate grace. "My son has grown so much... and you even recognized me after all these years."
The admiral took in the sight of his son, the boy's face was still young, but a glint of sharpness in these golden eyes gave the feeling Tai Lung will grow to be someone exceptional.
"It would be shameful not to recognize my own father," Tai Lung replied.
The admiral laughed, a deep and proud sound. "I'm glad I've returned. To see my wife and my son with my own eyes again… nothing in the world can match this moment."
Tai Lung gave a soft nod in return.
That evening, the family of three gathered together for the first time in years. Lanterns lit the room with a gentle glow, and the admiral, still dressed in his formal robes, shared tales from the front lines. He spoke of naval conquests, strategies that led to victories, and the honors bestowed upon him by the Fire Lord himself. His tone was light, carefully tailored to keep the horrors of war out of reach for his young son.
But Tai Lung wasn't like other children.
Behind each filtered tale, he heard the screams, the chaos, the bloodshed. The fire and steel. Though his father smiled, Tai Lung saw the shadows in his eyes, he understood perfectly the carnage that such achievements demanded.
Later in the conversation, Admiral Lung turned to Tai Lung with a glint in his eye. "Next week, you'll be joining the Royal Academy. And you won't be the only one," he added. "Prince Zoku, son of Prince Ozai, will also be attending. He comes from a divine bloodline but with your talent, I believe you'll be able to keep up."
Tai's eyes gleamed with intrigue. A member of the royal family. A firebender with divine heritage and if rumors were true, one who would one day master lightning. The chance to observe him, perhaps even learn from him… it was too valuable to ignore.
The next day came swiftly.
Admiral Lung stood tall in the courtyard, arms crossed behind his back. "I want to see your progress with my own eyes," he said. "Show me what you've learned, son."
Tai Lung bowed respectfully. "Yes, Father."
He took his stance and began to move, martial strikes flowing one into the next like water turned to flame. Fire blossomed from his limbs, roaring to life in perfect synchrony with his movements. Though he held back, refraining from using chi-enhanced movement or the blue flames he had unlocked, his technique and control were a marvel to witness.
The admiral's eyes widened. He had seen countless firebenders in his long career, soldiers, lieutenants, prodigies. But his six-year-old son… the discipline, the control, the intensity, Tai was more capable than many adult soldiers he had commanded. The only advantage they had over his son was their body size and battlefield experience.
When Tai Lung finished, he stepped back and looked up at his father, silent and awaiting judgment.
Admiral Lung coughed lightly, composing himself. "You're much better than I expected. Definitely the best I've seen at your age."
A proud pause.
"But," he added, his voice returning to the tone of a seasoned commander, "you still have a long way to go before becoming a true firebender and master."
Tai Lung nodded without hesitation. He understood. There was always more to learn, more to refine. But even so, he knew where he stood. With Master Ronzu's teachings as a reference, his performance was above the average fire bender.
With time, he shall be at the very top.
___________
Late at night, Tai Lung lay on his bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as thoughts drifted through his mind. A full month had passed since he began attending the Royal Academy. He had entered the school with excitement, eager to learn new martial arts, meet great teachers, and most of all, encounter Prince Zuko, the child of divine blood said to wield great power.
But the reality had been a disappointment beyond belief.
The so-called finest academy in the Fire Nation was mediocre at best. The general education classes were dull and repetitive. Tai Lung had combed through the curriculum for the rest of the year and found nothing he hadn't already learned under Meisho's private tutelage. The firebending lessons were even worse, clumsy stances, weak breath control, and instructors who spoke as if reading from scrolls rather than lived experience.
He was years ahead of the class. It wasn't an exaggeration to say he was already qualified to graduate.
Then there was the prince himself, Zuko.
Tai Lung had anticipated someone who radiated brilliance or possessed overwhelming skill. But Zuko was just… average. No remarkable insight, no natural dominance, no spark of genius. He was like every other student, indistinct and unimpressive. It left Tai Lung questioning the legends he has been hearing. Was the story of divine bloodlines nothing more than myth? Did the royal family keep their true teachings secret? Or was Zuko simply the black sheep of his lineage?
Tai didn't have an answer, but one truth was clear, continuing in that academy was a waste of time. Back home, two or three years are enough for most species to reach adulthood, but humans need ten or twelve years at minimum. Tai Lung didn't want to stick around to watch the human children grow up.
The very next morning, he brought the matter up with his parents over breakfast.
"I want to withdraw from the academy," Tai Lung said plainly. "I can train and learn on my own much faster than sitting through those classes for the next seven years."
But his parents immediately dismissed the idea.
"It's important for you to interact with other students," his mother said firmly.
"It's not just about learning," Admiral Lung added. "It's about understanding the people around you, learning how to stand among them. To learn our values and what it means to be honorable. That is as important as the fire in your veins."
Tai Lung attempted to explain again, to point out the glaring inefficiency, the wasted hours, the lack of challenge. But neither of his parents budged. Their decision was final.
Reluctantly, Tai Lung obeyed. For now, he had to accept the painful slow growth rate of humans.
___________
Meanwhile, in the royal palace, dinner was served in golden silence.
Ozai sat at the head of the table, flanked by his wife Ursa and his children, Azula and Zuko. The air was still, save for the clinking of porcelain and silver. Then Ozai looked up from his plate and narrowed his eyes at his son.
"I've been hearing from your school," he said coolly. "Your performance is not up to royal standards."
Zuko flinched, his grip tightening on his chopsticks. Across the table, Azula smiled faintly, while their mother's expression darkened with concern.
"He just entered the school," Ursa said calmly. "You can't judge him like that so soon."
But Ozai's gaze didn't shift.
"Zuko is a prince of the Fire Nation," he said. "Yet he is consistently overshadowed by his classmates, especially Admiral Lung's son. That boy has been at the top of every class since the first day."
He leaned forward, his voice colder now. "I expect you to rival, or even surpass, this classmate of yours. Anything less is simply a failure and that is not acceptable for a son of mine."
Zuko lowered his head and whispered, "Yes, Father."
The fire flickered in the nearby lanterns, but none burned hotter than the silent pressure settling over the prince's shoulders.
___________
The next day, Ursa walked through the palace courtyard with Zuko beside her, the boy unusually quiet as he trudged along. As they turned a corner near the training grounds, a familiar voice called out.
"Ursa! Nephew!"
Crown Prince Iroh stood at the end of the walkway, smiling broadly as he approached them with his usual warm demeanor.
"Uncle," Zuko said flatly, giving a small nod before continuing to walk past. He didn't stop, nor did he look back.
Iroh's smile dimmed slightly as he turned to Ursa, concern flickering in his eyes. "Is Zuko alright?"
Ursa let out a quiet sigh. "Ozai is putting too much pressure on him. He scolded Zuko for not being the top of his class. Apparently, a son of some admiral is outshining him."
Iroh frowned and shook his head slowly. "Ozai has always been too harsh... Do you know which admiral?"
"Admiral Lung," she replied.
Recognition lit Iroh's face. "Ah, Lung! I didn't realize his son was Zuko's age." A fond smile touched his lips. "Shulian Lung is an old friend of mine, a good man, disciplined and loyal. Perhaps I can help."
Ursa tilted her head. "Help?"
Iroh nodded. "Why not introduce Zuko to Lung's son? Let them become friends, maybe even rivals. That kind of companionship could inspire and strengthen them both."
Ursa's expression softened with gratitude. "I can't thank you enough, Iroh. Zuko needs someone like that right now."
Iroh waved it off with a chuckle. "He's my nephew. It's my duty and my joy to help him."