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It remained a gorgeous afternoon in the Fire Nation capital as cherry blossom and magnolia trees had blossomed overnight. The forthcoming festival would soon match the natural beauty of the country in a few weeks.
The Summer Solstice was the most revered day in all the Fire Nation, for their season happened to be summer. On this day, the Human and Spirit Worlds were one, and anything could transpire. It was regarded as a blessing from the spirits to be born or wedded on this particular day, ensuring good fortune and prosperity for the rest of your life—if one believed in superstitions, that is.
One responsibility of the Fire Nation Royal Family was that the current heir must supervise the three-day solstice celebration. It provided an opportunity to interact with the masses and build a sense of community. Plus, it did wonders for morale.
At the moment, Fire Lord Azulon and his wife, Fire Lady Ilah, had snuck away to celebrate their 50th anniversary, leaving their eldest son and heir, Crown Prince Iroh, in complete control of the country. This did not sit well with his unrighteous younger brother, Ozai. But such was the nature of royalty—so Ozai sulked and threw a tantrum, while Iroh fulfilled his duties with grace.
Currently, the Dragon of the West found himself in the community, enjoying a light conversation with his best friend, Oroku. Oroku possessed the physique and appearance one might associate with an ancient deity. Iroh and Oroku had been best friends since childhood. Oroku’s father was Iroh’s father’s most trusted general, and so, naturally, they became like brothers.
“So, Iroh, how are you feeling today?” Oroku teased, his yellow-brown eyes fixed on the captivating landscape and the women passing by. “Think you’ll get to experience some magic this year?”
Iroh sighed. “Why do you ask me the same question every year? You’re a hopeless romantic, Oroku.”
“You say that because I’m lucky with the ladies, and you’re not. Despite being the Crown Prince,” Oroku quipped, as a young woman nearby giggled at their conversation.
“Lucky?” Iroh raised an eyebrow. “I call it being a charming flirt,” he teased, giving his friend an amused look.
Oroku chuckled. “You’ve been chasing women since the time you could walk, but you’ve never successfully reeled one in.”
“I like to think I’m just waiting for the right one,” Iroh replied with a wry smile.
“Oh, please. You’ve said that for the last three decades. What makes this festival any different, other than the fact your parents are pressuring you to marry?” Oroku asked.
Iroh’s expression softened slightly. “There is a time and place for everything. I believe in the red strings of fate, and I know in its own time, love will find me. But I’m not in a rush.”
“Yeah, and it’s not like your parents won’t be back in time for the festival, expecting you to have chosen a bride by the end of it,” Oroku remarked sarcastically, ducking as Iroh playfully swatted him on the head.
The two young men continued laughing as they supervised the preparations for the festival. The hustle and bustle around them made it easy to forget about the war just outside the capital. It was difficult to imagine conflict while children ran and played, friendly conversations filled the air, and stalls were set up to sell food and trinkets.
Iroh paused to advise a group of small children on how to properly fly their kites. Oroku watched him with a fond smile. If anyone deserved to be called a noble man with a kind heart, it was Iroh.
A few of the women passing by took notice of Iroh’s gentle demeanor, pausing to watch him interact with the children. It was no surprise—they were impressed by Iroh’s nature, though they all knew that whoever caught his attention would be the lucky one.
As Iroh finished with the children, he made his way back to his friend. “You’ll make a damn good father one day, Iroh,” Oroku said with a grin. “Better at that than being Fire Lord!”
Iroh chuckled softly. “Every life is precious. Each child is a seed that just wants to grow. We should do all we can to help them along. Now, if I’m not mistaken, we’re supposed to check on the flower maze?”
“Yep. Let’s get going. You’re causing too many women to swoon around here!” Oroku laughed, shaking his head.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a large meadow where magnificent golden blossoms, unlike any they had seen before, bloomed around them. It was a scene of rapture. The landscape was breathtaking, with glittering butterflies flitting about and the air filled with the sound of joyous laughter. It felt like they had entered paradise.
“It’s truly a gem,” Iroh murmured, gazing at the beauty surrounding them. “So many wonders of man, yet Mother Nature creates miracles that no human could ever replicate.”
“True enough,” a melodious voice responded from behind them.
The two men turned to see a captivating young woman standing nearby. Her ebony locks cascaded down her back, her flawless skin glistening like porcelain, and her eyes, the color of the sunrise, were mesmerizing. She possessed the beauty of a goddess, her appearance rivaling Agni’s daughter, Agnimitra, from Fire Nation folklore.
She wore a short, dark red kimono, embroidered with the same golden flowers surrounding them. Holding out her right hand, a glittery purplish-red butterfly landed on it, and she gently stroked it, causing it to remain still, as though enchanted by her touch.
“Good day to you both,” she said with a radiant smile. “I take it my family’s sundrops are to your liking?”
“They’re quite enchanting,” Iroh replied, ever the polite prince. “I’ve never seen their equal before.”
The woman smiled again. “There is no equal to them, for they were conceived only this past year. My family cultivates both wildflowers and butterflies. We provide aristocrats with one-of-a-kind flowers, though it takes years of skill, patience, and love to grow something so unique.”
Iroh gazed back at the brilliant flora. “Only those who truly understand what matters in life can appreciate the beauty and wonder of Mother Nature.”
“True,” she replied softly. “Which is why we must protect it at all costs. You can always rebuild a destroyed place of worship or buy a new vase. But the genuine treasure in this world? Life itself. That can never be replaced, and it is the most priceless thing we have.”
“You two sound so much alike, it’s uncanny,” Oroku spoke up, breaking the silence. “I’ve been best friends with Iroh since we were children, and I’ve never met anyone who talks like him.”
“Oh, my apologies, good sir,” she said with a polite laugh. “I didn’t notice you there. Might I get your opinion on my family’s sundrops?”
“They’re a slice of heaven for sure, m’lady. You’ve done an excellent job with them,” Oroku said, clearly charmed by her as well.
“Thank you, kind sir. Where are my manners?” The woman bowed to both of them. “My name is Kimana. It’s an honor to be in your presence, Prince Iroh. And yours, too.”
Iroh, ever the gentleman, bent down to kiss her hand. “Might I request a private tour of your gardens, Lady Kimana? I’d love to see if you’ve grown anything that would make a fabulous afternoon tea.”
Kimana giggled softly. “The whole nation knows you are a tea connoisseur, Prince Iroh, though a polite one,” she teased, her smile widening. “You’re also known for being the Fire Nation Pai Sho Champion. How many decades longer do you plan to hold that title before you retire to being the Dragon of the West?”
Iroh chuckled, clearly amused by her wit. He kissed her hand again, and the two walked off together, leaving Oroku behind.
The day was just beginning to unfold, and already, Iroh had found someone who made his heart race. He and Kimana spent the day savoring exotic teas, watching the sunset, strolling through nature, swapping stories, and playing Pai Sho. Sometimes they sat in comfortable silence by the lake, simply enjoying each other’s company.
It seemed love was in bloom, but little did Iroh know that fate, in the form of his brother Ozai, would soon strike. On the Day of Black Sun, Iroh would be devastated by the tragic death of Kimana—murdered by a jar of lychee nut dust that Ozai had deliberately mislabeled as tea spices.
Years of guilt would follow, but only when Iroh learned the truth from his nephew and adopted daughter, would Kimana’s soul finally rest.