Sukuna: The Last Sorcerer 4

Book 1: Episode 4

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The heat hit Ryo first, hours away before they made landfall.

Long before they even saw the coast, he could feel the raw heat of the place.

It was like a sauna, and it only got worse the closer the ship got. By the time the princess’s ship slid into the royal harbor, Ryo felt his eye twitching as he stared at the unbothered and perfectly pale princess Azula walking beside him.

Now, that doesn’t make sense, he grumbled to himself. You can’t be in a place this hot and stay this pale for generations. It doesn’t work like that… right?

He might not have known much about genetics, but all thoughts about that slid out of his mind as he fully took in the Fire Nation capital for the first time.

It was very…

Red. 

That was the best way to describe it. Just…

Red everywhere. Like, someone found the color red and decided to beat the whole world with it.

The buildings, as red as they were, were all sharp angles and swooping tiled roofs that looked ready to slice you if you got too close, pretty much like the soldier’s armor. Red banners with the Fire Nation logo hung from almost every single building, flapping in the hot breeze. Even the people walking around looked like they’d been dipped in red paint and told to march in formation.

As they walked off the boat, Ryo got his first proper look at the people. The streets were crowded but extremely orderly. Everyone wore shades of red and black, their hair tied up neat and proper. No chilling around, nobody even seemed to relax, just everyone moving like ants, like they had somewhere important to be and were already late.

Weird.

“Our palanquin awaits, Honored Avatar,” Azula gestured toward this weird looking fancy enclosed box carried by four large soldiers in armor. The thing looked ridiculous, all gold trim and red silk curtains. 

Ryo just stared at it. “You want me to get in the box?”

“Yes, I would like you to accompany me in the palanquin,” Gold eyes narrowed at him, “Honored Avatar.”

He blinked back at the box, then back at the princess who was starting to say her chosen title for him like some kind of insult. “What if I don’t wanna get in the box?”

“You will not walk through the streets like a commoner.” She wasn’t looking at him now, her voice clipped and final. “I certainly will not.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryo got in.

Inside, it was somehow even stuffier and muggier than the outside, which was great, because again, Azula didn’t seem to notice the heat. 

On top of that, he felt ridiculous. He was being carried through the city like a package, like some fragile piece of cargo that might break if it touched the ground. He could hear the muffled sounds of the street but saw nothing through the thick curtains. Great. Went from being sealed underground to being stuck in a glorified moving closet.

The motion of being carried was weird too, this swaying rocking that just made this whole thing feel pointless. I’m not even royalty.

As the royal procession moved through the streets, he could hear a wave of motion ripple through the crowd outside. People stopped instantly; he could tell from the way all the background noise just cut off. The silence was absolute, reverent, and fearful.

Jesus, I get royalty is royalty but still…

The procession entered the palace grounds and even through the curtains, Ryo could feel the change. The scale of the whole place felt designed to make someone feel small, which was probably the point. When they finally let him out of the box, he was led through a series of vast, cavernous hallways that stretched out forever.

The floors were polished black stone that reflected the flickering torchlight, making everything look darker and more dramatic than it needed to be. Massive tapestries depicting Fire Nation military victories and what looked like very old, very harsh-looking men with long white beards throwing fire from their hands. Cheerful stuff.

The guards were living statues in black armor and expressionless masks. As Azula passed, they snapped to attention with this percussive stomp and a unified fist-to-chest salute, the sound echoing through the halls.

Show-offs.

They weren’t taken to the throne room, but to a set of ornate private chambers where servants bowed so low their foreheads nearly touched the floor. Ryo watched one old guy hold that position for like thirty seconds straight.

That’s gotta hurt.

Azula gave orders and he was shuffled off to servants who were tasked with preparing him. As soon as their eyes landed on him, their confusion was… 

Well, they didn’t try all that hard to hide it. Clearly, they’d never seen anyone who looked like him, from his skin to his hair and it showed but at least they tried to keep it quiet. So, I look kinda sorta like a Water Tribe guy, is what he was able to piece together from their muttering. 

One servant, this nervous-looking woman with graying hair, kept shooting glances at Azula and then back at Ryo’s tattoos. Her hands shook when she neared him, trembling fingers almost ticklish as they touched his skin.

“Is there a problem?” Azula’s presence was ice cold; the princess’s voice was almost always a frozen blade every time she spoke, and it was no different now.

The servant flinched and immediately got to work. No more questions, no more hesitation.

Ryo barely even cared about the whole thing, letting them fit him into a set of appropriate attire that was somehow even more restrictive than the last set. The mantle — or whatever you called this thing — sat heavy on his shoulders, made with a high stiff collar that felt like it was doing a better job of choking him than making him look fancy. On top of that, all the intricate gold stuff on his clothes just felt pointless.

They handle you like a doll, brat. A worthless thing to be dressed up and displayed. And you let them.

Shut up. He rolled his eyes as he fought the urge to twitch at Sukuna’s voice again, the demon inside him finally speaking up after days of silence. It’s just clothes.

It is a leash. And your new master holds it tightly.

Ryo clenched his fists, the fine silk straining at his knuckles. The fabric was probably worth more than his old house but right now it felt like a straightjacket made of gold thread.

Whatever. 

The servants stepped back, bowing again, and Ryo caught his reflection in a polished mirror across the room, tattooed face and dressed-up body staring back at him. …this Fire Lord guy better be worth it.

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Azula looked immaculate and severe in her own formal court armor (so pretty much the same as the last week or so he had known her) inspecting him as they stood in this very fancy looking hallway that screamed expensive in every polished surface and gold trim detail. Her eyes moved over him quick and clinical, checking for flaws.

“This will do.”

She led him not to the throne room, but to a cavernous chamber just outside massive bronze doors that probably weighed more than a few minivans put together. The only light came from a single, massive brazier in the center of the room, casting everything in flickering orange that made the shadows dance wrong.

“We will wait here until we are announced.” Her voice was low and sharp, cutting through the silence. “When the doors open, you will walk at my side. You will not speak until Father addresses you. You will not move until commanded. When I kneel, you will do the same. When I bow, you will follow.”

Ryo scoffed, the sound loud in the quiet room and probably just as disrespectful as he meant it to be. But seriously. “Kneel? For who?” He didn’t even kneel to Sukuna unless the demon made him. Granted, Sukuna could make him, but he was pretty sure that guy was also actually Satan. “Princess, I like you… Even with the whole scary murdery thing you got going on but… I mean, I don’t even know the guy.”

Azula turned on him, those golden eyes flashing with something dangerous that made the air feel colder despite the brazier pumping heat into the room.

“You will not embarrass me in front of my father.” The words came out sharp enough to cut glass. “The being inside of you may be a great spirit, but you are in my world now. You would do well to remember that.”

Damn, she’s really stressed about this.

A man in formal robes, looking all official and nervous, stepped out from a side door and bowed so deep Ryo was surprised the dude didn’t fall over. “Fire Lord Ozai is ready for you, Princess.”

The announcer struck a gong that vibrated through Ryo’s chest, and the massive bronze doors swung inward with this low, grinding sound that probably cost someone’s yearly salary to engineer. The heat and oppressive silence from inside washed over them.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

They stepped through the doorway and stopped, a long, empty expanse of black stone separating them from the throne at the far end. The place was designed to make you feel small; Ryo could read that from the jump. High ceilings, dramatic lighting, way too much open space between the door and where the important guy sat.

Azula immediately dropped to one knee, her head bowed in this practiced, graceful motion that she’d probably been doing since she could walk.

“Princess Azula and her guest arrive as commanded, my Fire Lord.”

Ryo remained standing, arms crossed, taking in the scene. 

Guards in that same skull-faced armor lined the walls, all of them probably watching for any excuse to turn him into barbecue. Ministers or whatever in fancy robes stood around looking important and nervous. Pillars of fire shot up from the floor, because apparently this guy really leaned into the whole evil overlord aesthetic. And there, on the throne, sitting right in front of those flame pillars with his face and body almost completely in shadow, was the man himself.

Oh, so this guy really is a Dark Lord. He tilted his head to the side, frowning a little as something else popped into his head. Wait, if he’s a lord, why is Azula a princess?

Azula’s shoulders tensed, and he caught the slight hitch in her breathing. Uh oh. I think I’m about to get her in trouble.

Ozai’s voice echoed from the throne, calm and absolute, carrying easily across the vast distance between them. “Approach.”

Azula rose gracefully and began the long walk across that black stone, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Ryo fell in step beside her, suddenly feeling the weight of a hundred pairs of eyes tracking his every move. 

They stopped at what was obviously a designated spot, still a considerable distance from the throne because god forbid anyone get too close to the big guy. Azula bowed deep, her form perfect and practiced. The tattooed boy didn’t move, just stood there with his hands shoved in the pockets of these overly baggy pants they put him in.

“Father. I have returned.” Azula’s voice was clear and proud, carrying a tone that Ryo was hearing from her for the first time. “And I bring with me the harbinger of our nation’s ultimate victory over the world. I present to you the Dark Avatar.”

Ryo blinked. Over the what?

Ozai’s eyes landed on Ryo and he blinked back at him, the boy still confused over what Azula just said. He couldn’t help but be a little distracted, though, considering the Fire King was studying him with the kind of attention that probably made most people want to disappear. 

“You make a bold claim, daughter.” His voice was deep, resonant, and calm in a way that was way more unsettling than shouting would have been. “You speak of myths… tales from a forgotten age.” He leaned forward slightly, and Ryo caught the gold eyes shining brighter in the light of the flames. “This… boy… is your proof?”

The pause stretched out, the man letting out a low hum before he spoke again.

“Demonstrate this power.” Ozai’s gaze stayed locked on Ryo, unblinking. “Show me why I should not have you burned alive for misleading my daughter, for bringing falsehoods against the glory of the Fire Nation. Bend the elements as you stand there and show me the might of this ‘Dark Avatar’.”

The room went dead silent. The guards, the ministers, even the flames seemed to hold their breath. Azula slowly rose her head and despite the calm on her face, she was clearly eager for him to do something, tension rolling off her in waves.

Ryo met the Fire Dude’s eyes and gave a shrug, as he kept his hands where they were. “I dunno how to bend anything, bro.”

He might as well have flipped the guy off the way everyone gasped.

Literally, everyone in the room gave a single gasp in unison; one Ryo could hear from the nobles and servants, and probably some of the guards. Speaking of the guards, almost all of them tensed, their hands moving into what looked like the stance he had seen dozens of times since waking up on the princess’s boat; the stance that meant they were ready to turn this room into a barbecue pit. 

Even Azula’s eyes widened for a split second, her carefully constructed composure cracking as she almost let out this choked sound. Uh oh. I think I broke her.

The Fire Lord, for some reason, didn’t make a sound, which kinda sucked because he said it that way to piss him off  in the first place. Instead, that quiet calm remained, Ryo suddenly understanding where Azula got it from. 

After a few seconds, the eyes narrowed, and Ryo found himself wondering if this guy was somehow trying really, really hard to look like a bad guy for some reason. It’s like he read the Evil Overlord list, right down to the hot daughter.

“A test, then.” The words dropped into the silence, interrupting Ryo before he could make a pun about how hot Azula was. “Not of bending. Of power.”

The pause hung in the air, thick and dangerous, and Ryo could practically feel everyone in the room holding their breath again.

“We will arrange a demonstration. A trial worthy of a Dark Avatar,” he didn’t spit the words, but they sounded like an insult anyway somehow. “You will prove your worth to the Fire Nation… or you will prove to be a useless counterfeit.” The flames behind the Fire Guy roared as he spoke the words, pillars doubling in size. “And I have no use for counterfeits.”