Chapter 4

Zuko felt ashamed.

He could have won that fight. He knew he could have. There had been a moment when his opponent had overreached himself, revealing an opening in his guard that would have allowed Zuko to shoot a blast of fire straight into his chest. The opportunity had been right there in front of him.

But he hesitated.

It was always that way. Zuko messed up enough as it was during training, but when sparring against an actual opponent he was somehow even worse. He'd been taught again and again to hit every opening your opponent gave you with all your might.

Yet the moment he'd spotted his chance, all he could think about was how painful it would be for his opponent to be burned on the chest, and his fist had frozen.

Azula wouldn't have hesitated. Father wouldn't have hesitated.

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

Zuko jumped at the sound of a voice nearby, and his head quickly shot around to find the source of it. A few steps away stood a girl smaller and younger than him, with hair like spun gold and yellow eyes as sharp and narrow as a raven-hawk's.

Whether it was her piercing gaze or the aura of danger cloaking her that caused an uneasy chill ran up his spine Zuko did not know, but she immediately put his nerves on edge.

"You have to fight a battle more than once to win it." The strange girl warned like a doomsayer of old. "All that matters is that you are the one who wins the war in the end. And no war can be won without blood, sweat and sacrifice."

And then she smiled.

Zuko had seen many different kinds of smiles before. He liked to think that the way someone smiled said a lot about who they were.

His mother's smile was soft and warm, like the comforting rays of the sun on a summer afternoon. His uncle's smile was wide and hearty, full of adventure and life. His sister's smile was subtle and sly, like a satisfied jackal-cat when it caught a bird.

But this smile was unlike any he'd ever seen before, and it sent a bolt of cold terror down his spine. It was wide like uncles, but strangely lopsided and full of sharp teeth. It was a smile that screamed recklessness. Bloodlust. Madness.

The smile of a demon.

With a short bow the terrifying girl strode away, leaving Zuko paralysed by his fear. He was not the most sociable of children, but Zuko was certain that a smile like that was entirely wrong on a girl as small and young as her. Was she even a girl at all? Or perhaps one of those evil spirits uncle warned him about? Whatever the case, Zuko was sure that he wanted nothing to do with that girl ever again.

...

Tanya strode toward the arena with her head held high, a triumphant smile on her face. That conversation with Zuko had gone as well as she could have hoped.

With a father like Prince Ozai she'd suspected that using a military analogy would get through to him effectively, but she hadn't expected it to have been so effective as to leave him speechless. No doubt his spirits had been lifted, and in the future he might remember the kind words she'd offered him.

Yet now was the time to put thoughts of future politicking to the side, and start focusing on combat.

The competition in the five-to-six age bracket wasn't as intense as in the older years, but Tanya had to be careful to limit herself to match Azula's abilities during each of her fights to make her final deception seem more plausible. It required strength and discipline in equal measure.

Here was hoping a new body and a few years of peace hadn't dulled her battlefield instincts.

...

Something was very unusual about this year's tournament.

Prince Iroh would admit that there seemed to be increasingly less he and his brother Ozai saw eye-to-eye on these days, but one thing they could always find common ground on was their deep appreciation for, and skill at, firebending.

Which was why, as they watched the five-to-six age bracket unfold and Ozai shot him curious glances, Iroh knew he wasn't imagining things.

Azula cut through her competition like a hot knife through butter. In each round she demonstrated her overwhelming talent in a different way.

During her first round she went for speed, shattering her opponent's defence and taking them down in just under eight seconds. In her second round she showed off her knowledge of advanced bending moves usually practised by children three or four years older than her, and in her third conjured flames almost as big as she was.

His niece was out not just to win, but to prove that she was superior to her competitors in every way imaginable.

Yet she was not the only outstanding entry.

The girl with the golden hair had not seemed like much at first. She was the shortest of the competitors, and held herself with the posture of a military child rather than a noble one. Yet in her first round the golden girl had shattered everyone's expectations by taking down her opponent quickly and efficiently.

In just under eight seconds to be precise. Just like Azula.

Once could have been a coincidence, but as the tournament progressed Iroh's doubt continued to grow. When Azula used advanced techniques in her fight, the golden girl used techniques of the same level of skill. When Azula conjured her biggest flames, the golden girl conjured flames of a similar size.

Was she copying Azula? No, copying wasn't the right word. The golden girl fought with a variation of the traditional firebending style used by the fire sages, though had clearly honed away some of the more frivolous movements in favour of efficiency.

Rather than copy Azula's moves, the golden girl used her own moves at exactly the same level as Azula was using. As if she was trying to prove that everything Azula could do, she could do too.

But why? What was the point? As far as he knew Azula had never met this girl before. Was she trying to upstage his niece and steal the publicity from her? Perhaps, but it was incredibly suspicious that their skills would be matched so perfectly evenly.

More likely the girl was deliberately holding back her skills and was using Azula as a benchmark. But why? Why fight in the tournament and not aim to win?

Iroh glanced over to his brother, who's eyes remained fixed on the golden girl's current fight with the same intensity as he'd watched Azula's. Ozai did not allow his feelings to show openly on his face in public, but Iroh had known him long enough to recognize a few telltale signs of what he was thinking, and that slight narrowing of the eyes did not suggest anything good.

The next free moment he had, Iroh was going to have to make some enquiries as to who this young girl was. He'd be returning to his campaign through the Earth Kingdom in a few days, but something in his gut told him that today would not be the last time he saw this odd little girl. He just hoped their next meeting wouldn't cause him such concern.