"So that's how it looked from your side..." I sighed and stepped up beside the girl, turning my gaze toward the distance as well.
Even in the darkness of the night, I could see her yellow eyes flash as they locked onto my face.
"Honesty for honesty..." I drew a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. "The truth is, I was never a genius. It's hard to believe that now, but... The only son of a respected, decorated admiral, descendant of an ancient noble house, living at the height of the Fire Nation's power and glory... What incentive did I have to better myself? The war was nearing its end—everyone understood that. Our fleet hadn't faced a serious opponent at sea in decades, while on land our army won victory after victory, and whenever it did retreat somewhere, it made no difference to the overall situation. So why would someone who already had everything bother pushing himself under those circumstances?
"I could have secured a comfortable position at headquarters or in the Capital simply by virtue of my birth. Glory and the status of a decorated frontline veteran? One letter from Father and any commander would take me in. After that, all I'd have to do was show my face somewhere in the rear during a couple of successful operations, and there I was—a veteran and active participant in forging our military triumph. My career would be assured, and victory itself would arrive soon enough, along with all the privileges due to the victors, including new estates and native slaves. Back then, of course, no one knew the Avatar would soon return..." I fell silent, still staring toward the horizon. Azula remained silent as well, waiting for me to continue.
"It was a powerful temptation. To be a carefree young socialite, wallowing in luxury, enjoying power and status without being responsible for anything or accountable to anyone. I almost fell for it... Although... truthfully, I fell for it completely. For several years, I was a total idiot who practically lived at parties with other spoiled young jackasses just like me, mistaking sycophancy for friendship and a victory at beach volleyball for a worthwhile achievement for the day."
"And what changed?"
"Hard to say..." Or rather, saying it was easy enough. Explaining it was another matter. "I suppose I simply... came to understand it all. To truly grasp it, to feel it, and..."
"And?" the princess prompted, fixing me with an unreadable stare.
"I was disgusted. It's difficult to put into words, but imagine waking up one day and realizing you've turned into a gigantic, stinking slug... What I felt was something like that. Shame and rage in an indescribable combination. Shame before my father and all my ancestors, who had spent centuries wresting a better position for our nation and our family from fate, only for me to prove myself unworthy of them in even the smallest measure. And rage at myself for exactly the same reason...
"I was lucky then. Those feelings were strong enough to finally get through to my brain, and I had enough willpower not to give in to the temptation to drown the problem in wine and lose myself in another round of partying and revelry. But I'm still nowhere near a genius. Piandao was the genius—the man who managed to turn a clumsy, overgrown idiot into one of the finest swordsmen in the country in just two years. My only contribution was figuring out how to make him interested in teaching me..."
"Like you said, that's rather difficult to believe now," Azula remarked with a faint hint of mockery. "Believe me, I know what a spoiled young fool resting on the laurels of his birth looks like. Simply realizing what he's become isn't enough to make someone like that start moving."
"You're too hard on your brother..."
"And yet you immediately knew I was talking about him," the princess countered casually. "Though I'll admit, exile did him some good."
"And still..."
"And still..." We said it at the same time, then fell silent at the same time.
"You go first," Azula ordered, irritably brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.
"Very few people are actually afraid of me. They're afraid of the image they've created in their own heads. You've seen it yourself—I don't even try to frighten anyone."
"Don't make me laugh." The girl waved a hand as though brushing away an insect. "As if I haven't seen everyone start walking on eggshells the moment you get even a little angry."
"That's not exactly fear," I objected uncertainly, remembering our recent gathering after the chase for the Avatar. "More like attempts to... umm... provide emotional support."
"Exactly!" The princess jabbed an irritated finger into my chest, practically scorching me with her furious glare. "Why?! How did it happen that you—a butcher with hundreds, if not thousands, of corpses in your wake, the terror of the entire continental coast, the merciless Herald who hangs children and sends his own subordinates to rot in prison, wielder of blue flame, Conqueror of the North and Vanquisher of the Ocean Spirit—you... How did you end up inspiring such love and loyalty in your subordinates? How is it that what they fear isn't your anger or your punishment, but something happening to you?!"
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
🥳Joining P@treon keeps me motivated and eager to work diligently, so please consider joining.🥰