The glory was inescapable, like having your head covered in hot oil. Music swelled. Not instruments so much as just inspiring and imposing sound, a whole spiritual orchestra standing somewhere behind the eyes, calling every bit of attention to the moment. Torches flared in perfect rows like a performance, braziers roared to life, the gilded, encrusted walls of the throne room scintillating painfully bright at the height of the flames.
And there, at the far end, atop a dais and on a throne that made the notion of a merely being a 'king' seem quaint, sat Arzaya. Not standing. Not rising. No effort in that moment to exude authority as much as she oozed gold to pool at her feet. In fact she almost lounged on her throne, as if she were impatiently waiting for someone to finish tying their shoe. Flawless golden mask tilted. Silk hood pulled tight. One hand propping her cheek. A posture that said she had no answers.
The orchestra went BWAAAAA anyway, and briefly, she clenched with irritation.
For in front of the dais, Arzayanagi was… present, at least? On the floor. Carelessly dropped like a rake in the yard. Aang stood there, wide-eyed and small, having simply tossed it aside, then looking serene like his work was done. It was no triumphant passing of responsibility at all.
The torches snuffed part way, the booming, stirring sound reducing to echoes and a low drone. And then among the tight cluster of people crowded awkwardly before the throne, Raven reached down with the resigned annoyance of a girl punished for her sibling's mess. She grabbed Arzayanagi, stood, and for one beautifully awkward moment stayed still with it.
Torches and braziers flared, spitting smoke and embers as they hadn't yet died down from the last burst, and the musical triumph BOOMED again with an ever so slightly discordant second BWAAAA.
Arzaya's head shifted, slightly. Her elbow on the arm of the throne slid. She didn't fix it.
Raven's expression immediately soured. She looked at the spear like it had just insulted her mother, and it kind of did, actually. Before the triumphant display around her even reached it's peak, however... she tossed it over her shoulder to bounce down the glossy, black encrusted obsidian steps of the dais to rattle on the long walkway floor.
Arzaya tapped one golden clad fingertip with a click-click-click that could just be heard after the crescendo.
Some old man, dressed in priestly robes, shuffled away from the pack of illustrious recipients. It didn't really look like he belonged there at all, even with how wrong it all was. With sagging, slack-jawed look, eyes half-open as if he'd been tranquilized, he stiffly stumbled his way down the steps, bent down, and picked Arzayanagi up. He stared at it, unblinking, like he had no idea what it was.
The torches and braziers, having nearly gone out, flared in a spectacular divine brilliance once again! The orchestra's rousing BOOM reached for ecstasy with absolute confidence.
The old man didn't even react. Click-click-click. He slowly shuffled back up the steps, taking so long in his decrepit age, apparently, that the room was almost fully dim again, until he thrust it unceremoniously out towards...
Shyu. Who had a blissful, disarming smile on his face as he accepted it with both hands. Again, the triumph was marked by the torches blazing, the music swelling with that starting BWA-
From amidst the bunched group, a hand shot out. Zuko roughly seized Arzayanagi from Shyu before he could even hold it aloft, and the sage simply shrank away and stayed still. And a breath after he tightly clenched the weapon, a true supernova of divine radiance swept down the hall! Torches spiraled intense flames to light the very heights of the dizzying ceiling! The furthest pillars SHOOK, so moving was the roar of the—only slightly off-kilter and flat—magnificent hit of the orchestra, fit only for a true paragon among men!
Zuko looked like he'd just been handed someone else's slightly moist sock. Click-click... clack.
He dropped it.
It clanged and clattered not even a pace away, and the prince stared down at it like he'd let a sizzle crisp slip out of his fingers. Not great, but, like, he could just go get another. The orchestra warbled rather quite strangely as it dulled again, like maybe it was finally over and it was quite hoarse at this point.
Then, humiliatingly, it burst out again, fully avoiding the scarcest touch of any note it meant to reach.
Iroh was on his knees, all thumbs batting around for the slowly rolling spear, scuffing along in his robes on his knees. But once he HAD it...
The torches just began to swell. The music ready to sally forth once again!
But Iroh instantly foisted it back to Zuko, who nodded mildly in the least bit of politeness, finally holding it up, his arm moving slowly like he was waiting for instructions that would never come, and the torches BLOOMED with a truly life-changing splendor! The orchestra rallied like no other, filling the throne room with a truly profound, and moving moment of awe.
Zuko looked like he was hoping it would be over soon so he could go to the bathroom. Aang, Raven, some guy, Shyu and General Iroh all stood stiffly around him in no particular formation, expressions slightly pleased but a bit lost. Arzaya's head shook ever so slightly, but her disapproval was still quite evident.
And then, it smelled strongly of fresh polish on lacquered wood, and Lord Arza could feel the steady heartbeat of the sea beneath the flagship's hull. In his flagship cabin, extravagant as his station demanded, and from glossy smooth sheets, he sat bolt upright in bed with a cough, a long draft through the nose, scratching his less than regally arranged hair, and his jaw moved slowly to let out only, "...what?"
And after squeezing his eyes shut, his left hand moved to his right shoulder automatically to rub the very old but still a bit vexing results of an Agni Kai gone less than stellar. He stared at nothing, trying to recall what order Arzayanagi had even been passed around, or who exactly had it. "So much for never wanting to touch it again, General..." he grumbled as he squeezed the faded purple of his upper chest and neck. Turning his head aside, he saw the standing mirror in the dim light and many reflections of his rather more golden than strictly necessary cabin, and for a moment couldn't make sense of his reflection. Still of the vision, perhaps just because he was accustomed to her company, he sighed, "my lady, you said it might get chaotic, but... who even were half those clowns..." although his words no longer reached her.
Finally realizing why his reflection was a puzzle, he muttered, "ridiculous." Both of the vision, and of the flower-shaped smear of ink all over the mirror. He hopped out of bed with urgency that denied the existence of his previous slow, sleepy start entirely. He disregarded robes fallen loose enough to be more of a sash with an unused belt, and he leaned in to the simple but artful and absolutely unacceptably placed flower graffiti.
His finger found it dry.
His nail found no purchase on scraping it.
His razor would harm the expensive glass.
His fire, meekly tested, simply smeared it around.
He licked his teeth in a slow motion, jaw clicking open. "How did she even get in heeeere..." he trailed off, already gravelly voice croaking with how fed up he was. He cut his allowance for frustration short, however, and readied and dressed himself in practiced and professional motions that made it very clear he had a system and very clear he timed himself with brutal expectations. Belt. Boots. Armor pieces that mattered. Hair tied back. Beard left a bit unkempt so people would think he's grumpy and hesitate to bother him. A tactical choice.
A frantic knock rattled his cabin door.
"Lord Arza!" a woman's voice called, tight with urgency. "Lord Arza, forgive me, but we have received a royal message!"
He had actually overslept a few minutes, Arzaya's deranged vision and all, so he was prepared to not make Captain Shoko regret the sudden intrusion, but still looked the part of making her lips tighten instantly at his gaze when he yanked the door open. It was surely the scruffy beard, he smirked to himself.
She stood with perfect posture, even when taken aback, like she'd practiced being surprised until it bored her. Uniform so crisp you'd swear it'd never seen battle. Face painted in "professional". She didn't quite flinch at him, not really. She knew very well what reactions would make him favor her, and she chose them as carefully as her deliberately obedient tone.
But Jinai Arza didn't really care why she did things the way he liked, and he didn't bother with a hello before he seized her arm, actually genuinely startling her for the briefest breath, and he pointed sharply back into the cabin, dragging her in a few steps as the door guards mildly panicked.
Shoko peered past him, confused for half a heartbeat, then saw the defaced mirror and visibly went still with a meek and acknowledging, "mmm."
"My cabin," Arza said, each word a knife laid gently on a table, "is supposed to be secure."
"Yes, my lord," Shoko said immediately, too quickly, too braced to comply. She swallowed, then lifted a sealed message with both hands like it might bite. "I apologize. It won't happen again. But… this is urgent. From Princess Azula."
Arza had insults behind his teeth that most would find too extreme to be leveled at a teenage girl.
He made a short gesture. "Read. I'm behind schedule." And he saw one of his elite guards stumbling into the hallway ahead like he was still getting his boots on.
He was an Arzayan firebender of his cousin's house, and he beckoned, "Lord Arza, what did that vision mean—"
"Later," he cut him off, a point of his finger making it final. "Shoko," he stated.
She extrapolated. Tilting her head, and pausing a brief instant to pick the right formal tone that didn't show too much respect to her highness, Captain Shoko explained, "Her Highness reports that Admiral Zhao's fleet is occupied by a volcanic disaster and related salvage operations. Due to the Fire Lord's trust in your... unique competence, you are hereby bestowed the glory of leading the invasion of the Northern Water Tribe and delivering a decisive victory."
Arza was at the bridge just as she finished, and he breathed out a barely audible, "unique competence... thinks she's funny, huh."
"Someone has to." Shoko continued, getting an actual smirk from the man. But the punchline hadn't landed yet. She took a breath to compose, and finished, "to ensure your success is properly witnessed and honored, Her Highness is also en route to join the operation with her own warship."
Arza's laugh was a single, humorless breath.
Shoko's shoulders drew in a fraction, apologetic on behalf of a princess who would never apologize for anything. Everyone on the bridge stared at them like he'd finally gone mad. They all knew it was coming. Arza's eyes were indeed oddly distant for a moment, not with fear, but with calculation. The dream still clung to the back of his skull like smoke. The ridiculous torchlight. The spear. The sense of a hand moving pieces around a board, he just couldn't quite grasp the end game.
"You're not... really agreeing to that, are you, Jinai?" an old not-quite-retired commander of the Arzayan marines grumbled impatiently from where he'd gotten far too familiar with the bridge that Captain Shoko was theoretically in charge of.
Captain Shoko flicked a glance his way, "I can't imagine, Commander Yo." She flatly said, instantly lacking the respect she freely gave Lord Arza.
Lord Arza's mouth crooked into something that almost looked like amusement.
"Actually. Our Lady," he murmured, and the way he said it made the bridge quieter than silent. He spun on a heel to wag a finger at the firebender who had followed him. "Must be behind this. This is connected to the vision."
"To... attack the Norther Water Tribe, sir?" the firebender wondered.
And as Arza hoped he would, Commander Yo interjected, "that vision was nonsense! I don't trust it was even really from her, if you ask me."
"We didn't, Commander," Captain Shoko flatly said, but the hostility just made the old man smile. She took in a sharp breath, trying to figure out why Lord Arza would even consider taking the fleet that far from home, and actually pounded her first in her palm she realized so hard. "Is Our Lady after a target in the Spirit World, my lord? Surely she doesn't want the Northern Water Tribe?"
"Certainly not." Arza's expression sharpened like a blade being drawn. "She doesn't want waterbender blood."
Everyone nodded or gave a slight smile at least like that was obvious, with Commander Yo offering a still somehow grouchy, "hah!" followed by, "she'd recoil from the sight of it, after all that bawdy mess."
Captain Shoko sighed with annoyance. "Don't be crude on my bridge, Commander."
The old man rolled his eyes in a way where actually sarcastically saying "your bridge, hah!" wasn't necessary. But he did stand a bit straighter when Lord Arza finally stepped up to his position.
"Gather petitioners, both of you," Arza ordered without raising his voice, glancing to Commander Yo and the slightly lost and out of place firebender who wasn't sure if he was dismissed or not. "Firebenders with true conviction, I don't care if their positions are critical, we'll figure out how to replace them. And more than enough dragon's blood."
"And if you're wrong?" Commander Yo couldn't help but argue as he shook off the old age like snow and strode with purpose for the door. "If those boys come back alive, don't ask me to figure out the hierarchy again."
"I'll handle it," Shoko sharply said, already moving in her mind to lists and logistics. "But... Lord Arza," she said carefully, "without Arzayanagi, do we have the forces to guard the Isles and even briefly keep the North?"
Arza looked at her as if she were a fool. She was used to it.
"Keep?" Arza chuckled, and his smile widened into something almost gentle. "There is no keep."
Arza's gaze drifted toward the far horizon, where the world was cold and waiting. "We are not sailing to take the North," he said, voice soft with certainty that didn't need to prove itself. "We are merely spreading the glory of God."
Shoko nodded. "Her Highness is coming to keep you in the North as long as possible, isn't she," she practically said as she realized it. "The Fire Lord is going to make a move."
Arza's smile didn't flicker. "The Glittering Isles are guarded," he said, and there was something proud and possessive in it that did not sound like a father talking about a child. It sounded like a general talking about a fortress. "I trust Raven will hold the line, if it comes to that. Many would gladly die under her command."
Raven woke up face-down, just absolutely nowhere fucking near the Glittering Isles.