15 Chapter 15

The sound of a gong rang through the air, signalling that the Agni Kai had begun, and Iroh was pleased that Zuko didn't immediately rush in with flames blazing. It was a sign that he was trying his best to keep a cool head.

...

After a few seconds of staring each other down, Zuko pulled a fist back to build a heavy ball of fire and launched it at Zhao. The commander dodged it with practised confidence, and continued to do so twice again as Zuko repeated the move.

The fourth time Zuko launched a fireball his way Zhao had decided that enough was enough, and settled into a firm horse stance.

Rather than dodge the fireball Zhao simply tanked it, catching the flames with his own power and dispersing them harmlessly with a flick of his arms. He smirked at Zuko tauntingly, and Iroh felt fear grip at his heart as Zuko's temper began to rise to the bait.

Zuko switched to a more advanced form, leaping acrobatically and sending twirls of flame conjured from roundhouse kicks that washed across the arena like waves.

Yet like a mighty ship Zhao pushed the flames away and cut through them with the palms of his hands, still taunting Zuko with his smirk.

His tactic was as obvious as it was effective: have Zuko wear himself out in his anger, then beat him down with straightforward attacks.

"Basics, Zuko! Break his root!" Iroh shouted, hoping that his nephew would listen and remember their lessons. Even the mightiest tree would fall if you took away the roots it stood upon. It was one of the first lessons Iroh had taught him, and one he'd taken many opportunities to repeat in the hopes that it would stick.

Zhao sensed his opportunity, and stepped forward into a sturdy stance as he unleashed a blast of fire at Zuko. There was nothing flashy about Zhao's attack: just a straightforward punch packed with a lot of fire, but the strength of it knocked Zuko back.

Zhao took another step forward, planting his feet firmly as he followed up with another attack, which again Zuko struggled to repel.

Step by step, blast by blast, Zhao advanced, hounding Zuko with an unrelenting barrage of heavy attacks.

Eventually it proved to be too much, and with a grunt of pain Zuko was knocked off his feet and crashed to the floor. Yet Zhao was not prepared to let him off the hook so easily.

With a warcry Zhao leapt forward, landing at a range close enough to deal Zuko a finishing blow. He brought his fists back and, with an angry roar, unleashed a great jet of fire at Zuko's head, intending to seer the flesh clean off his skull.

Iroh stepped forward, instinctively moving to intervene even though all logic told him it was already too late. If Zuko did not survive this night then Agni Kai be damned, Iroh would show Zhao the reason why the Earth Kingdoms once feared him as the Dragon of the West.

Yet his fears proved unnecessary. With a graceful spin that would have made an airbender proud, Zuko not only dodged out of the fire's path, but swept Zhao's feet out from under him and landed back on his own two feet in the process.

That wasn't a firebending move. Iroh thought to himself, and a second later he realised where he'd seen it before: back at the South Pole. It would have made an airbender proud indeed.

He'd heard it said that one learned more from their enemies than they did their friends, and if Zuko had picked up a few airbender moves from his conflict with The Avatar then he wouldn't catch him complaining.

It was obvious to everyone that the tide of the battle had turned. Now it was Zuko's turn to smile as he stepped forward: not hounding away with wild blasts like Zhao had, but sending small, controlled waves of flame at Zhao's feet with each step.

The result was just as effective as Zhao's mad onslaught. With his balance shot, the commander could do nothing but stumble back in a panic as Zuko claimed ground.

"Commander! Flares!"

Iroh's smile turned upside-down as he remembered that he wasn't the only one allowed to call out advice, and Zhao's expression suddenly morphed from one of panic to a look of realisation. He took a deep breath as he began to topple backwards, and Zuko's advance halted as he prepared himself for what he assumed was another jet of fire.

Yet surprisingly it was not. As Zhao exhaled a storm of tiny sparks, each one as quick and bright as a firefly, erupted from his mouth and spread out like a cloud before him.

It was a dazzling spectacle, and did a fine job of obscuring the commander from sight even as he hit the ground har. By the time the sparks had faded enough for Zuko to see again Zhao had already managed to stagger back up onto his feet.

Iroh's frown deepened. That wasn't a move taught in the fire nation military. Most officers looked down on any move designed for evasion or retreat, viewing them as cowardly tricks.

It surprised him that Zhao had put his pride aside long enough to learn it, but he had no doubt as to who had taught him that particular trick. Captain Tanya certainly had made some creative adaptations to the fire sage's style.

"Need a little girl to fight your battle for you, do you Zhao?" Zuko taunted.

"Need an old man to fight yours?" Zhao shot back. Touché, Zhao. Touché.

Zuko pressed the attack again, targeting Zhao's feet remorselessly with quick bolts of fire now that he'd identified his opponent's weak spot. Zhao however had wisened up to his game, and crouched low to bat aside the bolts with wide sweeps of his arms.

He needed a sturdy stance to draw the most destructive power out of his style, and once again defaulted back to the tactic of letting Zuko wear himself out until the opportunity arose.

Yet Zuko was having none of it. He leapt upwards, cartwheeling forward with a flame building around his foot in a clear sign that he was planning to unleash a heavy blast through an axe-kick.

Zhao settled back into his cross-armed horse stance, preparing to tank through the flames once again.

Yet the moment his guard came up the flames around Zuko's foot winked out, and the young prince leaned further into his kick to turn it into a forward roll. It had been a feint! By the time Zhao had realised no attack was coming and dropped his guard again Zuko had closed the gap between them, and the fight returned to close range.

This time however Zuko had the momentum. Zhao was being overly cautious, too afraid of attacks coming for his feet, and allowed himself to be caught on the defensive.

Zuko meanwhile was letting his passion fuel him without clouding his head, and let his fists flow wild and free.

Every so often he would make a show of aiming a fierce blast at Zhao's feet: either a genuine blast to keep him on guard, or a feint that would open a path for him to win a hit elsewhere.

Zhao did a decent job at defending himself at first, but when the first punch hit him in the cheek with a satisfying crack Iroh knew it was over. It wasn't long before two, then three more strikes smashed against his torso, and as Zhao winced in pain Zuko swept his feet out from beneath him again.

Zhao hit the ground back-first, too exhausted for any more tricks, and Zuko closed in and brought his fist back, ready to deliver the finishing strike. Prince and Commander glared at each other in frozen silence for a few seconds, waiting for the other to break the stalemate.

"What are you waiting for?" Zhao demanded at last. "Do it!"

With a growl of anger Zuko punched forward, sending a ball of fire at Zhao's face…

Which exploded harmlessly against the ground beside him.

Iroh's heart swelled with pride at the restraint his nephew had shown. It was a brave thing to stand up to your enemies, but braver still to spare them once you had them at your mercy. It would have been within his rights to cast a scar of Zhao's face that would match the one on his.

Instead he'd done the truly honourable thing, and spared his foe from feeling the same pain he felt. That sort of selfless thinking was what it would take to end this war one day. I wish you could see this Ozai. He'd make a fine Firelord, despite all that you've done to try and tear the kindness out of him.

Evidently Zhao didn't agree. "That's it?" He scoffed between heavy breaths. "Your father raised a coward!"

Yet Zuko didn't rise to the bait. "Next time you get in my way I promise, I won't hold back." He replied coldly, turning to walk away.

Zhao scrambled back to his feet, and from the look in his eye Iroh could tell what he was about to do. Zhao raised his foot and, with a desperate cry, launched a cowardly attack at Zuko's back as he walked away.

Yet by then Iroh had crossed enough distance to intercept, and caught the offending foot with the casual ease of one who'd done it a thousand times before.

"Commander!" Tanya cried, only a second behind the action herself, and as Iroh pushed Zhao back to fall on the ground for a third time today he found himself quietly impressed when Tanya managed to catch and hold the fully grown man despite her small frame.

A snarl informed him that Zuko had turned around, ready to finish the fight, but Iroh stuck an arm out and held his nephew back.

"No Prince Zuko. Do not taint your victory." He advised sagely, and was pleased to feel the tension quickly bleed out of Zuko's body. He turned back again to fix Zhao with a flat, disapproving stare.

"So this is how the great Commander Zhao acts in defeat?" He shook his head. "Disgraceful. Even in exile, my nephew is more honourable than you."

Zhao, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words, his humiliation leaving him floundering in silence. Iroh nodded his head curtly. "Thanks again for the tea. It was delicious."

And with those parting words Iroh turned away, leading Zuko to their ship as Zhao glared at their backs hatefully.

...

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