Chapter Text
The peacock horse had been delighted at the prospect of a second ride in the setting sun, the possibility of stretching its long legs again. However, the elation faded quickly when the animal realized where it was being led to. After they left the open fields of Zoryu Parc through an alley of cherry trees in full blossom and turned towards the outskirts of the volcano, the natural bounce in its step was already gone. When they reached the gateway to a fortified street winding its way up to the caldera on top of the mountain in narrow serpentines, the bird came to an abrupt halt. It stomped its clawed feet stubbornly into the earth and refused to proceed further towards the gate.
“Pai Sho, please.” Raya stroked the red-feathered neck of the bird. “Believe me, I don’t want to do this either.”
She pressed her calves lightly against the animal’s flank. Pai Sho deftly shook his head, sending a crown of fine golden feathers on top into a furious dance.
“We don’t have much of a choice, buddy.”
Raya increased the pressure from her legs without effect. She cursed inwardly and reached into the pocket of her well-worn leather trousers where she found a handful of corn. Pai Sho merely grunted at the offering. He was too proud to be bribed, at least with something as mundane as simple corn. Raya, who was running late as usual when she was headed for the Royal Palace of Caldera City, felt the edge of nervosity tug on her nerves.
“Please buddy, we need this job,” she said, sounding desperate to her own ears. “I don’t know if you realized how freakishly expensive everything has gotten lately, but when I say that we need all the additional jobs we can get, I mean it. If Ren decides to charge me for letting you stay in his stable, I need to think twice about keeping you.”
Peacock horses were gifted both with a nasty temper and more stubbornness than was potentially healthy for them. Once bred with the aim of combining the strong build of an ostrich horse with the elegant features of the giant peacock, breeding attempts had stopped soon after it became clear their spirits were too hard to break to be an enjoyable mount for the masses. Raya wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without the patient help from Ren, the stable master of Zoryu Parc. Pai Sho was one of the worst examples for both character traits, but he was also excellent at reading people’s emotions. While he might hate the idea of going up to Caldera for a second time that day, he knew better than to disappoint the hand that had saved him from a group of violent farmers all these years ago. The remnants of the time would forever mark his body, in the three-lined scars that stretched all over his chest, in the ring of broken feathers around his neck, courtesies of pitchforks and ropes pulled too tight, in his uneven wings, partially lost to amateurish efforts at clipping them. No, he didn’t like going back to the dark stable that awaited him above, but he remembered where he came from, so he let out a dramatic sigh before he finally moved on towards the lower gate. A single guard looked out of its hut, the bored expression changing at the instant he saw who was approaching.
“Could swear that I’ve seen this beast already today.”
Pai Sho confirmed his notion with a violent hiss. The guard backed up and moved a little further into his hut. Raya searched the saddle back for a paper that confirmed her position as a grey servant to the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace.
“Got a second job for a couple of weeks,” she said noncommittally and handed over the parchment.
A smirk appeared on the guard’s face. “A job at the Royal Palace, this time of the day, quite unusual for someone wearing your color”.
“My job is none of your business, just mind your own and let me pass”.
His smirk grew a little wider while he activated the shifter to open the heavy double door.
“Have fun” he said, his grin revealing rather yellowish teeth. “From what is being told, the job will be done quickly.”
Raya gave Pai Sho a signal to move and rolled her eyes. “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath and steered the bird onto the serpentine street.
The numerous torches, functioning as streetlights had already been lit, the sun set quickly on the horizon, draining out the last natural light of the day. Raya made a low whistling sound and Pai Sho picked up speed without further discussion. His claws produced a rhythmical clicking on the pavement. The trip into the upper and significantly wealthier part of the Fire Nation’s capital took an hour by foot, Pai Sho managed the distance in half the time. The sun was almost gone when Raya reached the upper gate. She steered the bird towards a stable, built right into the thick seam of volcanic stone that made for the outer city wall. It was dark and narrow, the width of the compartments hardly sufficient for larger animals. Three komodo rhinos were already stabled. Pai Sho raised his head and ruffled his plumage in a vain attempt to double his own size. He swished his fox-colored tail, adorned with his most elegant red feathers, angrily from side to side and hissed fiercely as he passed. If he were a dragon, he would be sending fire against the rhinos now. His opponents looked only mildly impressed, they’d seen enough warfare to be immune to the shenanigans of a self-indulgent bird.
“You’re such a lunatic,” Raya said with a slightly annoyed voice. But his manner managed to break the tension that was steadily on the rise ever since she left Zoryu Parc behind.
When Pai Sho was secured in his own compartment, Raya removed blanket, saddle packs and the bridle. She filled a bucket with water and stuffed an armful of straw into the rack. Pai Sho shook his head disapprovingly.
“I’ll get you something better from the kitchen tomorrow, I promise.”
With quick and practiced movements, Raya replaced her leather trousers and the dark hooded cloak she preferred for riding against the name-giving robe, marking her as a servant of the lowest rank: it was plain grey, except for a red ribbon that bolstered the hem of collar and sleeves. Higher-ranking red servants, who tended closely to the nobility as butlers, nurses or chambermaids, only wore their robes as long as they were on duty in the palace. On the contrary, grey servants, the people who ran the most menial tasks like cleaning, laundry or kitchen assistance had to keep themselves distinguishable by always wearing grey for as long as they resided in the upper part of the capital. Unlike red servants, they weren’t allowed housing in Caldera City itself and returned to the harbor when their shifts ended.
From a barrel in the back of the stall, she produced a pair of worn-out grey slippers and unlaced her riding boots. She retrieved a small knife from the inside, storing it carefully back into the barrel. Her belt, bearing two further knives followed. She wasn’t foolish enough to run around Harbor City at night without a weapon, but naturally, those were forbidden in the Royal Palace. Her dark brown hair was already braided back tightly against her head. Still, she found two strands that had managed to escape during the ride. She pinned them back with a small hair needle and took a last glance into the sharp blade of one of her knives.
“Everything will be okay,” she said to her own reflection. “Just do everything as you’re told. Don’t draw any attention and nothing will happen.”
She gave the bird a last pet on the neck.
“Enjoy yourself, buddy,” Pai Sho just stared back at her and flared his nostrils.
How? It’s hellishly boring in here, his expression said.
“Don’t worry, it will only be for a few weeks.”
The gate to Caldera City was protected by four soldiers in full armor. Again, Raya handed over her paper and stood obediently still as one of the guards moved forward, checked the pockets of her robe and ran two hands down the length of her body, controlling for any objects unwanted in the upper part of the capital. Finally, she was allowed inside and followed a wide pavement, constructed of immaculate bright cobblestones all the way up to the Royal Palace. The building lay right in the center of the city, surrounded by a circle of high walls and a total of six guard towers that were permanently occupied. Between the walls and the actual entrance to the palace was a circular stretch of fallow, designed to make it nearly impossible to cross the plain unseen. Those measurements were taken to render assassination attacks on the royalty almost impossible, yet those had happened rather frequently ever since Fire Lord Zuko started his reign three years ago.
The building itself was as uninviting as a building could be. It consisted of three combined segments, standing on solid embossments of concrete to give an additional impression of height. From the main entrance, two structures stretched out left and right, while the largest, containing the throne room, reached backwards into the middle of the circular enclosure. The garbled rooftops of the palace held several layers, each garnished with a multitude of spiked ornaments. Right above the entrance loomed a huge tower, crowned by the golden symbol of a flame. It was visible from every corner of Caldera, a constant reminder of where the rules were made, for the town, for its outskirts below the volcano, and the entire nation. Raya hated the sight of it.
She followed a stretch of pavement, leading her to the main entrance and then along the right-hand building, which inhabited the guest rooms, until she reached the small entrance reserved for servants. Even this gate was guarded, but the soldier didn’t need to check her paper anymore, he recognized the attendants who entered the building on a regular basis. He gave her a small nod and stifled a yawn behind his hand. A steep flight of stairs led her down to the basement. She was supposed to meet Taro, head of housekeepers, in front of her usual workplace, the kitchen. He was already waiting for her, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
He wore an anthracite robe that indicated his position as leader of several subordinates. Large households with many attendants, like the Royal Palace, occupied several divisions of grey servants. They weren’t supposed to interact directly with the people who employed them. Allocation and control of work duties, as well as all communication between nobility and grey servants was held by the head of their respective department.
Taro raised his eyebrows critically. “Just in time. I was getting worried you might be too late.”
The head servant of housekeepers was a small man with dark brittle hair. Sometimes when he spoke, a small lisp escaped his mouth through teeth that stood a little too far apart. He always had a nervous glance in his eyes.
“Follow me,” he said and walked ahead instantly, with a prominent limp in his left leg, spitting his orders through gritted teeth.
“You will clean up the main building when the day’s work is done. This includes the throne room, the council room, two additional consultation chambers, the private library and the Fire Lord’s study. The place is to be kept tidy, exceptionally tidy, at all times. Order and cleanliness are high values to the Fire Lord, you must know.”
“I understand”, said Raya and tried to sound attentive.
“Floors must be swept every night. Dust from objects in the hallway, on the shelves and cupboards in every room is to be removed every second day. Twice a week, you will also clean all the windows. You work during the late evening hours, so that the rooms are presentable each new morning. Don’t disturb the Fire Lord – “ he stopped to throw her a sharp look – “he doesn’t like to be disturbed, and you don’t want to make him angry, I highly advise you against it”.
Raya nodded solemnly. “I don’t intend to do so.”
They reached the staircase leading from the basement to the upper levels of the Royal Palace. Raya had prepared herself mentally for this moment, imagining what it would feel like over and over again since she’d agreed to take on this job. Still, a wave of panic settled into her nervous system like an old friend. She briefly concentrated on her number of breaths, lengthening the time to breathe out, taking careful pauses between each breath.
It’s been four years, she told herself firmly, everything is going to be okay.
They rounded a corner and reached a spacious hallway, heading up all the way to the most important room in the palace: the throne room, where meetings of highest priority were being held. Looking at the crimson curtain with the golden Fire Nation emblem imprinted upon it made Raya’s stomach churn, but she willed herself to keep on moving anyway.
“These are the rooms assigned to you,” said Taro and made a gesture that incorporated several doors on the right side and the throne room at the end. Each door was flanked by a column that bore a decorative object. Raya saw vases without flowers, several busts and other sculptures. There were no guards to be seen. It surely meant that the Fire Lord had already retreated to his personal quarters in the left wing.
“I guess I don’t have to explain that stealth, and I know the prospect is alluring, especially to you Harbor City people, is an exceptional bad idea because it will be all too obvious who is to blame.”
Taro looked at her with a stern expression, his lips pulled tight into a fine line. “And as my head will be rolling too, for bringing in a nasty little thief … I’ll personally persecute you if I discover any wrongdoing.”
“Of course, master Taro. You won’t have to worry about this, I’m not a thief.”
Taro gave a little cough. He opened the very first door on the hallway and ushered her into a small room with a variety of cleaning utensils. Raya found herself standing uncomfortably close to the small man in the dimly lit compartment.
“If you happen to hear something interesting, I want you to report to me,” he snarled into her ear with a quiet voice. It made the hair along her spine stand up with apprehension.
“As you might know from your kitchen duty, an economic council will meet by the end of the week. I’m interested in every information you can gather. I want to know about movements on the main floor. Advisors, visitors, council people. Anything you might hear, in one way or the other.”
“This … this hasn’t been part of the deal,” Raya said. Her stomach flipped violently at the mere idea of his suggestion.
“It is now,” Taro responded with a sly grin.
“I’m the wrong person, I’m not … not good at spying.”
Taro came even closer, until he could fluster into her ear. Raya felt his spittle on her skin.
“Oh, I doubt that. I know who got you into the palace in the first place, but you will report to me, and only to me, you understand?”
In this moment, Raya decided to back out from the job entirely. The additional wage, paid weekly, might have allowed her to increase the hard-earned savings, but it wasn’t worth the price of life-threating danger. Being caught spying on the Royal Palace was exactly that.
As if he could read her thoughts, Taro squinted at her, still smiling pleasantly to himself. It turned his face into an obscure mask. “You don’t think of quitting already, aren’t you? Because I can’t let you go just like that, we’ve entered a contract when you agreed to work for me.”
He tutted mockingly before he said, “I know you have two sisters.”
Raya’s blood froze right there in her veins.
“And I know they are currently visiting the local school in North Embers, which is rather unusual for people from the southern quarters of the harbor. I understand that this is possible due to an agreement on lower fees for your family, given the fact your mother used to teach there. I just want you to know that I have the necessary connections to revoke this agreement instantly.”
He finally pulled back and Raya needed to contain the very prominent urge to slam a fist into his face.
“Do you agree to the conditions?” he asked with a confident little smile, knowing well enough she couldn’t retreat now.
“I agree,” Raya said. He waited patiently until she bowed to him, sealing the contract anew.
What else could she do?
“Don’t even think about telling a soul,” the head servant added as he poured sodium and juice from a lime-lemon into a bucket filled with water. “I will find out and I will regard it as a breach of contract, with all the repercussions. Wouldn’t it be sad? I heard they are both quite intelligent.”
He shoved a broom and a piece of cloth at her. “Good luck. I’ll expect a daily report.”
“I’ll do my best,” Raya answered stiffly.
He gave her a smirking glance before he withdrew from the room. Raya took several moments to steady her breathing, which had become erratic. The head servant could have obtained information about her family from anyone in the kitchen. Servants often talked during their nine-hour shifts, about personal things as much as about rumors and stories from the palace and beyond, it was a way to make long hours spent on monotonous tasks more bearable. It was one thing to know something; it was another thing to be able to pull the strings Taro claimed to hold. But underestimating him might directly interfere with her sister’s education, something her mother had fought so ferociously for. It might be their only way out of Harbor City, now that military careers or high-paying jobs in the former war factories were off the table in a time of peace.
A part of the population of Harbor City, including Raya herself, had been relieved when the war ended. They’d seen too many people join the military, in hopes of honor and glory and a better life up in Caldera, only to never return. Or to return wounded and traumatized, and then presented with a meagre pension and a life in poverty, regardless of their sacrifice for the nation. But life in Harbor City was still marked by hardship, now even more than in times of war: most of the factories, at the height of their production during warfare, were closed now, leaving many without employment. Reparations towards other nations were a frequent reason for violent complaints in the taverns. The nation had been forced to raise taxes, affecting the already struggling population of Harbor City at worst. People returned from the colonies, and they needed accommodation and jobs as well, things that had already been harshly contested for. Assassination attempts on the new Fire Lord, who had ended the Hundred Year War together with the Avatar, had been cheered upon by people who wanted to see his father back on the throne. From what Raya observed when she had to descend into the harbor’s nightlife, resistance against the current Fire Lord and his directions were on the rise. Despite the struggles, to which she was no stranger, Raya preferred a nation at peace.
And she knew from her own experience that under Fire Lord Ozai’s reign, the palace itself had been a cruel and dangerous place, especially for servants clad in grey robes. About Fire Lord Zuko, many conflicting stories travelled frequently back and forth between the kitchen, the laundry hall and the workshop down in the palace’s basement.
His temper is just as bad as his father’s, or his sister’s, must be an inherited trait in this family.
I heard he likes to burn his servants, just like … you know …
Doesn't he let his dragon burn them instead?
The red servants don’t seem too displeased with him, so many he is not that bad after all?
He has the ladies over in his study all the time.
Raya preferred not to find out for herself which of the stories were true. As it was befitting for a grey servant, she would stay well out of his way and complete her tasks without him even noticing. She would gather some information for the head servant of housekeepers and do her best to survive the few weeks on the palace’s upper level. With that decision made, she stepped out onto the hallway again and moved right up to the throne room. Something tightened in her chest, and she paid attention to her breathing, keeping it as even as possible, repeating her mantra in her mind constantly.
It’s been four years; everything is going to be okay.
Quickly, she moved beyond the tent flap into the cavernous room. The lavishly decorated ceiling was held by a multitude of pillars. At the end of the room, on a platform stood the Fire Lord’s throne, divided from the rest of the hall by a thin trench that could be dramatically set ablaze with flames. Now the throne was empty, the flames erupted to cinders and the hall remained rather dark. In front of the platform stood a large low table that could seat at least twelve people. Otherwise, there was no furniture and no decoration. Raya took two cautious steps towards the center of the room before her vision suddenly started to blur at the edges. Her chest constricted painfully, making it hard to catch a breath. She could almost hear them, unexpected footsteps of military men and the Fire Lord himself, flooding the room without warning. A sharp ringing filled her ears. As quickly as she had entered, Raya fled from the throne room again, panting hard. She seriously hoped Taro wasn’t watching her right now.
Get a grip, she scolded herself, fighting to assemble her composure. The ringing subsided, making room for the echo of a voice, eight words that had followed her into her nightmares for a long time.
Pathetic. Get rid of that sight for me.
Raya closed her eyes and blocked out the memory, before she took another deep breath and moved beyond the curtain again. She tried to move fast, fast enough that her thoughts couldn’t catch up, starting at the end of the room and working her way towards the entrance with wide sweeps. She concentrated on every movement, forcing herself to focus solely on the ground, the barely visible floor tiles in the dimly lit room. She aligned her breathing with the movement of her hands, paying attention to breathe out long enough to prevent hyperventilation. A subconscious part of her stayed overly alert for the entire time, reading to react at every movement, every unfamiliar sound, every visual cue jumping at her.
When she emerged behind the curtain again, relief washed over her like a breeze. The grey robe clung to her back with sweat, but she’d made it, and nothing had happened. From there, she worked her way back towards the main entrance with a lighter mood. Next to the throne room waited the council chamber. It held a similar low table of dark wood, as well as an assortment of cushions for seating. They were differently colored, stacked neatly onto a pile in a corner of the room: pale red, shades of blue and green. A single pillow, stacked on top was two-toned in saffron and orange. In a cupboard on the side, Raya discovered a tea pot and matching cups in the colors of the seating cushions. There was a diverse arrangement of tins with all sorts of tea blends, apparently originating from the Earth Kingdom or the former colonies, sorts she’d never heard of before, like white dragon blend or dried sea prune, whatever this was supposed to be.
The two consultation rooms were smaller, but similarly furnished as the council chamber, with low tables and cushions, the pale red color domineering. Both rooms had a fireplace and further tea pots with matching sets of cups. Fire Lord Zuko must have a great liking for tea, it seemed. Taken together, the council rooms looked rather sparse and humble, especially for the importance of decisions failed on those very tables. The private library demanded more effort in terms of cleaning, due to a multitude of shelves and cupboards, overflowing with books, parchment scrolls and well-sorted historical documents. The work was a little tiresome for the arms, but Raya could work in her own manner and was undisturbed the entire time, which was a welcome change from the constant bustle down in the palace kitchen.
After four hours, only the Fire Lord’s study at the very beginning of the hallway was left to clean. The column in front of his room carried a vase, ebony-colored porcelain with a detailed painting of a blooming wild cherry tree. In hindsight, Raya couldn’t explain exactly how or why it happened, if it was due to a single moment of inattentiveness or a sudden lack of strength. For some reason, it was this vase of all things that slipped from her hand and came crashing down to the floor with a horrible loud clank, the porcelain splintered into a rain of shards, visible against the dark tiles like snowflakes.
Instantly, Raya’s heartbeat quickened, until she could hear the fastened pulse well in her own ears, blocking every other noise. Her mind rapidly ran through different options to solve a problem like this. She could collect the shards and bring them to the harbor; she knew a man who restored all sorts of broken objects. He’d made a small fortune with the restauration of artefacts that had been shattered during the war. She could ask him to repair the vase, which would be overly expensive, but an additional expense was better than being burned or losing a hand. She must only find a way to transport the shards and hope that Taro or the Fire Lord didn’t notice its absence. Which was probably wishful thinking, the empty column was suspicious enough.
“What’s going on there?”
Raya, who had just tried to crouch down to the floor to gather the shards, turned around and stood upright hastily. All the air seemed to be pushed out of her lungs and her mouth went dry.
She’d only seen Fire Lord Zuko once, when he returned to the Fire Nation after three and a half years of banishment. She had looked at him from a great distance then, standing on top of the Royal Plaza’s high tower, the vast gathering place at the waterside down in Harbor City. Instead of the heavy mantle and crimson robes indicating his position, he only wore a loose tunic of red silk, sashed at the waist with a golden belt. The crown, a five-pointed headpiece designed in form of a flame was absent from the topknot that held half of his dark black hair upright. Even without the traditional symbols, Raya recognized him instantly. He was easily identifiable by a huge scar, covering almost half of the left side of his face. From the short distance between them, she could see the roughened edges where his skin had been melted by fire. He glared at her menacingly from the door of his study, taking in the situation with a deep frown of a single right eyebrow, the one that hadn’t been lost to flames.
Raya did the most reasonable thing that came to her mind and dropped down to her knees, stretching her upper body flat out in front of him in a gesture of submission. Or at least, she tried to do so. Before she even reached the ground properly, she was jerked up again, a firm grip around her arm pulling her back to her feet in a sudden movement. A surprised sound escaped her mouth, and she found herself suddenly very close to the Fire Lord. So close, she could look him directly in the eyes. The right one was opened wide with a surprising amount of shock on his own face, while the left remained half closed, which was apparently as much movement as the taut skin around the eyelid allowed for. The color was of a molten gold. She’d seen eyes like this before, and the sight made her breath hitch in her throat, almost choking her. She swallowed hard. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t look into eyes like this. She also didn’t want to stare obtrusively at his scar. It was almost a reflex to close her eyes. The faint hope of waking up from a nightmare when she opened them again might have been a second motivation.
He suddenly released his grip, sending her reeling backwards. Raya almost lost her balance. She could still feel where his fingers had been, the unnatural warm touch of a firebender.
“Your majesty, I’m very sorry,” Raya blurted nervously, training her gaze slightly over his shoulder. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I … I accidentally destroyed your vase.”
He just stared at her, but it looked distant, like he was drawn away into the inner workings of his mind.
“What?” he barked, his voice cold and indifferent.
“I accidentally crashed your vase,” Raya repeated.
His glower was profoundly intimidating; the scar made a large contribution to this effect. Raya beckoned to the ground awkwardly. “It … somehow fell out of my hand.”
He clenched his jaw as he slowly observed the mess. “It was the one with the cherry blossoms, right?”
Raya nodded reluctantly. His jaw set even a little harder although it shouldn’t be possible, with the way the muscles were already protruding, heightening the angularity of his facial features.
“It was my father’s,” he said slowly. “He brought it from our house on Ember Island.”
Raya really wanted to drop to her knees again, in a right form this time, she wanted to show how sorry she was, but something told her it would outrage him entirely.
“I … I will do what I can to repair it, I promise. If it can’t be repaired, I will find a way to replace it.”
He snorted derisively. Of course, he’d heard apologies like this many times, and he surely knew she could hardly afford repairing worthy of a Fire Nation royal artefact.
“I wanted to get rid of this thing anyway.” His voice remained expressionless, it was hard to tell if he was really meaning what he said.
He lifted his gaze and looked her intently in the eye. Something about his stare felt dangerous. It must be the color, Raya concluded, maybe this eye color only allowed for threatening looks.
“Actually, you did me a favor. Just clean up the shards and be done with it.”
Raya wanted to fall to her knees again, as a sign of thankfulness this time.
“Don’t!” he barked. “Don’t kneel like that before me. Like … never. Okay?”
Without a further word, he turned abruptly in a swirl of red fabric and vanished back into his study. Raya stayed where she was, unmoving, trying to console her heart into a more regular beat again. Then, she quickly collected the shards into a small bucket from the broom closet and hid them under a pile of ragged towels. She wouldn’t be so naive to take them out immediately. Maybe he was setting up a guard already, prepared to seize her the moment she left the palace and take her down for theft. After six years in the Royal Palace, she’d heard of every game that had ever been played against grey servants, and she wouldn’t fall for it.
She was already halfway down the serpentine street into Harbor City when she realized she hadn’t cleaned the Fire Lord’s study at all.
