The royal palace in Caldera City was still the same.
Golden spires gleamed beneath the morning sun, red banners rippled in the wind, and the scent of sakura incense drifted through the inner halls. Yet as Zuko walked the corridors of his childhood, he couldn't shake the feeling that something darker still lingered in these walls—something older than the war. Something his ancestors had buried.
He moved past courtiers and guards with quiet purpose. The others—Aang, Katara, Toph, and Sokka—had taken Appa toward the Northern Air Temples to prepare for the third Veil. Zuko had returned alone, seeking answers.
Answers that only fire could hide.
His destination: the Imperial Vaults, hidden beneath the royal archives. They weren't open to the public, or even to most royal family members. But Zuko had earned the right to walk this path—not just as Fire Lord, but as a descendant of the ones who made the mistake to begin with.
He met his uncle, Iroh, in the shadow of a giant brass dragon statue guarding the lower level.
"I knew you'd come," Iroh said quietly.
Zuko nodded. "You knew more about this than you let on."
Iroh gave a faint smile. "I hoped you would never need to know."
They walked together down the spiraling steps. The torches dimmed the deeper they went, flickering against ancient stonework—walls carved not in Fire Nation style, but something older, more circular. More precise. Symbols like eyes. Spirals. Half-suns.
"These vaults were sealed after Sozin's grandfather began his... obsession," Iroh said. "Before the war. Before the dragons were hunted. The royal line dabbled in things even the sages feared."
"And the Shadow Element?" Zuko asked.
"Not quite. But close. They discovered traces of it—through a man named Kurozan."
Zuko stopped. "I've never heard that name."
"No one has," Iroh said. "Because Kurozan was erased from the scrolls. He was Sozin's uncle. A firebending prodigy… and the first to try combining fire with shadow."
They reached a wide door carved from obsidian and sealed with melted gold. Zuko touched the locking plate with his palm, channeling a focused stream of fire into it. The seal hissed, unlocking with a groan.
Inside: a single chamber, circular, stone-lined, and cold. In the center, a metal pedestal held a blackened scroll case.
Zuko stepped forward, took the scroll, and slowly unrolled it.
It wasn't written in Fire Nation glyphs.
It was drawn. Diagrams. Spirals of fire interwoven with black lines that moved like ink—but shimmered with faint spiritual residue. Beside the diagrams were sketches of what looked like armor, weapons... and eyes.
Everywhere. Drawn, burned, and repeated.
"What... is this?" Zuko whispered.
Iroh lit a nearby lantern. "It is what Kurozan believed shadow could offer: ultimate vision. Not just in darkness. But into the past. Into the spirit. Into the self."
Zuko turned the scroll over and found a name scrawled at the bottom.
"I bend to remember what the flame forgets."— Kurozan of the Ash Veil
Iroh placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "He believed fire alone was incomplete. That flame was light without weight. And so he sought to burn memory itself."
Zuko stared at the parchment. "Did he succeed?"
"No," Iroh said. "But he opened something. Something that began to stir the echoes. Sozin feared it. So he killed Kurozan... and sealed this vault."
Zuko was silent for a long time.
Then: "Why does it feel like I'm connected to this?"
Iroh didn't answer right away. He walked to the far wall, brushing away dust to reveal another etching—a family tree. Unlike the public record, this one didn't end at Sozin. It traced back further.
And there, carved in blackened stone, was Kurozan's name.
And beneath it, a single downward branch... with no name.
Zuko stared. "He had a child?"
Iroh nodded. "A daughter. Her name was wiped from the record. She lived in exile… and her line continued in secret. Until eventually, it rejoined the royal bloodline."
Zuko clenched his jaw. "So I'm not just descended from Sozin. I'm descended from him."
Iroh's voice softened. "You carry fire—and shadow. Not as a curse, but as a balance. Perhaps... that's why the Shadow Veils stir now. Because someone of both lineages still lives."
Zuko stared at the scroll again. "Did he leave anything else?"
Iroh opened a hidden drawer beneath the pedestal and removed a mask.
It was half black, half red. No eyes. Just flame etched into one side... and ink into the other.
Zuko took it, slowly. It was light. Cold.
"His symbol," Iroh said. "The mask of the Ash Veil. He wore it when he walked between the mortal and spirit realms. To remember. To forget. To burn what must not remain."
Zuko stood in silence for a long time.
Then he turned to Iroh. "I need to take this."
"Of course."
As they left the vault, Zuko felt the scroll pulsing faintly against his side. Not like it was magic—but like it remembered him. As though the blood in his veins was waking something ancient.
Later that night, Zuko stood alone on the royal balcony.
He held the mask in one hand.
And for just a moment—just one flicker of silence—he heard something:
"You are not your ancestors' sins, young fire.But their fire still burns in you."
He turned toward the voice.
Varu stood in the shadows.
"How did you—?"
"I walk where memory remains," Varu said. "And your memory is awakening."
Zuko's hand tightened around the mask.
"I'm not going to let my blood decide who I become."
Varu nodded. "Then become more. Fire and shadow. Destruction and reflection. A flame that sees."
And with that, he vanished.
Zuko turned back to the night, the mask glinting faintly in his hand.
Whatever was coming… he would be ready.
End of Chapter 7