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The Next Six Years -- Prologue

Description: Two and a half years following the end of The Hundred Year War, Zuko is struggling to adjust to his new life as the Fire Lord. With assassination attempts from a not-yet-completely-supportive nation, an increasing number of problems to be resolved in the wake of Ozai’s ruling, and no word yet of his mother’s whereabouts, the weight of his job is taking a noticeable toll both on Zuko as a person and on his relationships. He begins to wonder whether he was really ever fit in wear the crown.

Rating: M Chapter Word Count: 939

Note from Author: Hey, so this has been brewing in my mind for literally years. It’s been like five years, basically. Some of you may know that there are things in the comics that I really don’t agree with, and there are few things I do like. So, I finally got around to at least starting to write down what I envision as what happened in the six years after the series ended. Take note that this story is disregarding Avatar: Legend of Korra altogether. It is simply creating my own story from the ending of the series onward. Also, this is not a ship-centric story, although there will be relationships between characters and changes in relationships, as well. If anything, this story is Zuko-centric, as he is my favorite character and the one I’ve have the most thoughts on.

Anyway, enjoy this prologue and let me know what you think of it! Hopefully I will get along to writing more if it is popular.

Darkness had a particular silence to it, and the night usually carried it in light hands. The stars only glanced at it; the moon welcomed it, but didn’t pay it much matter; and the wind carried it with a disturbance that only alleviated the tension such a silence created. Whether by discarded leaves turned brown in fall or petals from the cherry trees in spring, the royal city of Caldera and its current inhabitants were not in the misfortune of ever being visited by pure darkness.

Night made sure to never let that silence completely engulf itself. That’s why the stars were there, to guide one’s way; that’s why the moon was there, to carry the burden of darkness so nobody else had to; and that’s why the wind was there, to fill that silence with the song of the universe.

However, there were some nights where suspense of the uncertain was so thick it was difficult for those who felt it to breathe. That’s how Fire Lord Zuko had been feeling that night.

He had been restless since nightfall – though, if he was honest with himself, it had started much before that. Unlucky for him, he was rather susceptible to the fluctuations in the tone of the air. Tonight it was uneven, and that awareness had made it be that he couldn’t fall asleep until exhaustion had dragged the will straight from the seemingly perpetual dark circles beneath his eyes to his weary fingers.

Zuko was tired, and not just physically. It was emotionally and psychologically, too. Today, more than usual, he carried it with every motion. Plus, it didn’t help that Mai had decided to go with her family on holiday. While proud of her for making that choice, not having her there after he spent all day supporting his country while he slowly pulled the weight of it up what appeared to be a never-ending hill of rehabilitation was detrimental enough.

Nonetheless, Zuko had finally been able to get to sleep. It had only taken him until well past midnight.

And he was only awake for exactly thirty-six minutes before a mere creak in the floorboards sent his eyes ablaze.

He could see the posters of his bed, each strung to the deep red curtains he had since grown used to.

Creak.

The clarity in his vision wavered as the large window east of his bed came into view. It didn’t stay, though. Although heavy with sleep and almost suffocated with the suspense that had been nagging him all day, Zuko’s motions were calculated. They had to be. He knew each step to take – left over right, leap, right, back with the left, right, left, sideways – to make it to the only entrance to his bedroom without making a sound. Two towering doors guarded him from what lay beyond. Part of Zuko already knew.

Creak. Thump.

“Over there!” A shout from just behind the door exclaimed. Following were the clanks of two pairs of footsteps hustling down the corridor. Zuko should be reassured that two guards were taking care of the matter, but those had been the only two guards assigned to his chambers.

Thump. Thump.

Agni, there should have been more guards. If only I had listened to Mai…

Zuko’s hands acted without thought and pushed one door just enough so he could slip through. He remained in the shadows, concealed for a moment, until the full moon beckoned him out of the silence of the dark with two footsteps. His stance was poised. His eyes darted around the scene. He didn’t dare light his surroundings more than they already were.

Running down the hall, he turned a corner until he was confronted with the two guards once positioned in front of his room. He had known them quite well: Sankatsu and Akai. They had never really been friends, but were almost considered such on nights that carried previous suspense. Never had he thought he would see them on the ground before him surrounded in a sticky liquid he didn’t dare touch for a moment. It was red. He already knew.

Zuko reached out and tried for any indication that life was still buried inside the shells of their bodies, but nothing came of it. It was done. Zuko could feel his heart sink deeper in his chest with the pounding in his eardrums. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his now clenched hands. They were stained in blood that should not be painting his flesh. Whoever had killed his guards weren’t after the troops. He knew that much.

Zuko paused, waiting for anything to alert him of the killer’s direction. He held his breath, his hands shivering. He wasn’t willing to waste even a second. He couldn’t give that to this intruder. Zuko would know when they moved.

Creak.

With fury, Zuko stood from the crime scene and raced down the crimson corridor toward the motion. It had to be them. He blindly followed his heightened senses to where he was sure the sound had originated. He could take them – whoever they were.

In just a breath, a rough hand clasped over his mouth. Zuko’s eyes widened. He struggled against the surprise grip, but before he was even aware of what happened, a knife slid deep into his gut.

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko,” a voice from behind sneered.

The assassin disappeared as Zuko fell to the floor with a heaviness that reverberated throughout the castle. The suspense was gone, and in its place was a sense of dread as the sun slowly peered over the mountains of the capital.

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