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Chapter Text

The trick of weilding dual daos was to never see them as seperate, but to understand them as two parts of a connected whole. It was what made the weapon that much harder to grasp than the more common, single dao. Ordinary daos were simple, practical, fit for chopping, cutting and killing, but held no honour, no skill. Its techniques could be learned in a few weeks at most, therefore it was part of the standard training for fire nation soldiers, but no self-respecting sword master would ever wield that piece of hacking equipment. No, there was no art in a dao, just bloodshed, and most pupils Piandao had trained would turn up their nose at the thought of ever using the weapon – or they would stick with it for its ease of use and never look to learn anything new again. Few people ever considered the twin dao, fewer used them any different than as two clumsy, overly large knives.

But this boy did. Even if there was no art in handling daos, this boy created it – and wasn't that what true art was, something fresh created where one would least expect it? He used the two halfs as a whole, he'd fallen in love with the dao's practicality and with unyeilding focus and determination transformed the weapon's simplicity into a precise, deathly effectiveness, defeating any foe. Piandao was impressed, and secretly very surprised at the marvelous results of this, what he'd believed to be futile, experiment.

As the young Zuko ended his latest spar with a swift swipe that would've gutted Sian hadn't he stopped as he touched her stomach, the grand master stepped forward and applauded the young prince. He was barely twelve years old, but had outpreformed capable warriors twenty years his senior. Sian was an experienced marine and a talented wielder of the jian, the double-edged sword the grand master wielded himself. After she quited her faithful service to her lord and her country, Sian had become Piandao's much appreciated assistant in training his younger pupils, a worthy opponent to a warrior of any type. That Zuko had managed to get the upper hand over her, said a great deal over his capabilities; the prince of the Fire Nation was well on his way of becoming a sword master in his own rights.

"Excellent work, Prince Zuko." Piandao complimented, "You've shown great progress today. I see you've quite taken to the twin dao, it is a pleasure to see a more uncommon weapon being used with actual proficiency." He meant that. The prince had been dedicated to learn any weapon Piandao pushed into his hands and had shown great progress in many different areas as a result, but up until then they had not yet found a weapon that truly suited the prince, like the jian suited himself. Zuko being a firebender originally, Piandao had thought they never would as the prefered weapon of a bender would always be their element, but they'd tried out many different weapons this past year and as had happened before, and as would doutlessly happen again, Piandao's suspicions had been proven wrong. Zuko had a real gift for the dual dao.

The young prince beamed at such outspoken praise, as it was rare for him to get any. His fire bending teachers only had harsh words and biting commentary for him, with only seldom an approving nod when he had finished a kata faultlessly. Not to start about his own family. His little sister Azula was, and always would be, the true prodigy in his father's and anyone else's eyes, with Zuko being the bitter disappointment that went ignored most of the time, if not painfully reprimanded for always falling behind. The fact that he studied hard and got great grades in almost every other subject seemed to mean nothing to their father, firebending was the only thing that mattered in his eyes, and it was the one thing in which Zuko always seemed to fall short on his father's expectations. As crown prince of the Fire Nation, his father expected him and his sister to be the very best firebenders the world had ever witnessed, and Zuko simply was not that great. He would never catch up. He would never live up.

That was the reason why Iroh, the Fire Lord's elder brother and Zuko's uncle, had taken pity on the boy and had decided to take him in tutelage with Piandao, a good friend of Iroh and the greatest sword master in the Fire Nation of this age. It turned out to be success. Fire Lord Ozai didn't really mind, he didn't care for his son either way, and as Zuko was a talented and dedicated student, he learned most what Piandao taught him quickly, gaining useful skills for a life full of war and battle and, maybe even more importantly, lifting up his spirit after another harrassing firebending session. If he ever were to lead their nation, he needed every bit of confidence Piandao's training could give him. Badly.

It truly was a shame the Fire Lord had already disregarded his eldest son, only having eye for his prodigal princess Azula. She was sight to behold, Piandao had to admit; he'd once seen a training session in which she effortlessly beated five of her father's best firebenders, and as a ten year old girl she was more proficient than any general who currently lead their nation's army. But that was no reason for Ozai to discard his other child. Ozai prefered to see his children as weapons, to be hardened by the hottest flames and to be sharpened to cut through any hindrance on their paths, on his path, to asolute power. But if his children were weapons, Piandao thought, they were dual daos, like the ones Zuko wielded so well. Graceful and lethally efficient, two parts of the same whole. Ozai could not wield one and discard the other. To succeed, he would need to appreciate both and let them work as a pair, if Ozai did that there would be no enemy they couldn't defeat. However, if he pitted his children against each other, in endless competition until either of them would fall and inevitably turn against him, the only one he would ultimately betray was himself. You needed both halves to win. Zuko understood that better than his father.

Of course, Piandao would never dare to speak such thoughts out loud. But as he watched Zuko spar with Sian, he knew the boy was wiser than his father ever would be.

Chapter Text

Reiban had it. It came to him on a peaceful morning, the moment he awoke from his slumber.

The royal family was mad.

For almost two years now, he'd been on a shack of a ship, sailing after the whims of a fourteen year old prince, on an impossible hunt for a non-existant avatar. When General Iroh had told the crew that the prince had been banished until he found and captured the legendary figure, Reiban knew Prince Zuko had been banished for life. The avatar hadn't been seen in more than a hunderd years, there was no chance Fire Lord Ozai actually expected Zuko to capture him, he'd just meant to be rid of his son forever.

To Reiban's great surprise and dread, Prince Zuko himself did not seem to understand that, and believed they really were on a mission to capture the avatar. For two long years, he'd driven his crew to the farthest and most desolate corners of the earth, taking enormous risks as they scoured the earth looking for a man who'd disappeared long ago. Scaling unscalable mountains, intruding unintrudable cities, crossing the endless waves. He'd pushed everyone to the very edge, but most of all himself. Among sailors of all nations, rumours had spread of the mad prince, chasing after dreams until the very end.

But Prince Zuko was not the only one. There were many legends in Fire Nation saga that told of insane princes and princesses, many of them not all that far removed from the current ruling branch. Fire Lord Azulon would have grown senile in his old age, or so the servants whispered, and it was about a month ago when he'd heard the story of Princess Azula's first inspection of one of the ships. It was said she'd killed a crewman as he hadn't taken the twelve-year-old serious, and imprisoned four of the others for disrespect. He would've never thought he'd be glad to be part of the prince's crew instead. The stories told Azulon's wife and Iroh's and Ozai's mother, Fire Lady Ilah, held a special love for fox-weasles and had had several as her royal pets, until they inevitably appeared mysteriously dead somewhere in the palace gardens. Rumour had it Fire Lady Ursa, Ozai's wife, killed Azulon to help her husband to power, Lord Nitanahu, cousin to the royals and twentieth in line for the trone, had been confirmed insane since his nineteenth birthday when he began seeing fallen soldiers wherever he went, and Lord Izim, another royal cousin, susposedly suspected everyone from his servants to his oldest friends of wanting to kill him, until then prince Ozai finally did him in for treason to the throne.

He wouldn't dare whisper a word, but he was quite certain Fire Lord Ozai was crazy judging the way he locked himself up in his palace and frightened anyone who approached him, not to mention his crazy war policies which had ripped thousands of families apart. And Fire Lord Sozin, Fire Lord Sozin had begun this whole insane, senseless war.

Reiban had heard, in the past, how craziness could be passed over from parent to child, either through inheritance or through bad parenting. And he had also heard, how families marrying into each other would tempt the spirits to add madness in their bloodlines, as punishment for their unnatural behavior. Ilah and Azulon had been first cousins to each other. Sozin's grand parents on his mother's side were brother and sister. Lady Ursa was a descendant from that family as well.

The entire royal family was mad. And it was the cause of everything bad that had happened to the world. Their madness had started this stupid war, their madness had causes unplausible slaughters over the decades, their madness had led to the banishment of this mad young teenager and had forced Reiban himself to following this mad prince in his mad quest. A mad, overpowered prince who would not think twice of throwing his against the metal walls of the ship if he wasn't at his post before sunrise.

Reiban quickly rose from his bed and put on his uniform. He may be doomed, but he knew his place both on this ship and in society. There was nothing anyone could do about the royal madness. Nothing but watching it all crash and burn, hoping for the best for their nation.