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    Seven years after the war, a man in red robes and a man in green walk into a theater. “I know you said the Ember Island Players were bad,” the man in green told his companion, “but this play has gotten wonderful reviews from the Earth Kingdom!”

    “I wouldn’t trust the Ember Island Players with any play,” the man in red replied with a huff. “They messed up Avatar Aang’s story, and they ruined ‘Love Amongst the Dragons’ every year.” He crossed his arms.

    The green man elbowed him. “At least give them a chance, this time!”

    “We’ll see,” the red man said, and they settled into their seats.

    The play was titled ‘Zuko Alone’—the story of a traitor firebender living in an Earth Kingdom village. The firebender, the titular Zuko, rode into the town with nothing to his name but his stolen ostrich-horse, his swords, and the clothes on his back. In the play, Zuko is casted as a middle-aged man with a thick beard, clumsy and cheerful.

    “That’s not right at all,” the man in red told the green man. “Zuko was a teenager, graceful as a cat. And he didn’t have a beard.”

    Zuko, in the story, stands up to the Earth Kingdom soldiers in the town. In thanks, one of the boys thanked him, and invited him to his home. The boy’s mother wonders who Zuko is, but the boy’s father understands secrecy. The boy, Lee, asks invasive questions, and the closer they hit home, the angrier Zuko gets. The whole thing is interspersed with Zuko’s flashbacks to his life before he joined the war effort.

    “Very entertaining,” the man in green clapped at the end of Act 1, “but I find it insulting that no one in the town realized he was a firebender. I bet they suspected, but just didn’t mention it.”

    The man in red sighed and crossed his arms the other way. “Zuko never joined the war as an army soldier—he was in the Navy. And I’d like to see the playwright’s face when he realizes that Zuko was thirteen years old when he was thrown into the war.”

    The man in green was very disturbed by this.

    In Act 2, Zuko stands up to the soldiers when they take Lee away. Lee’s mother comes racing to him for help—not knowing, the play emphasizes, what she’s really asking. “I’ll get your son back,” the Zuko on stage tells Lee’s mother, fumbling with his swords.

    The man in red opened his mouth in outrage, but the man in green shushed him.

    Then, the confrontation with the soldiers. The leader, Gow, was casted as a younger man with a skimpy mustache. Zuko monologues to the audience about how Gow doesn’t really want Lee for the war, he just wants to hurt another family.

    “Are you gonna let this stranger stand there and insult you like this,” Gow tells his goons, all comically skinny. The goons attack Zuko one by one, and they are each beaten back by a well-timed fumble on Zuko’s part.

    The man in red almost stood to leave. “It wasn’t like that at all! Zuko fought them with grace, and they ran away screaming!”

    “Please,” the man in green said, “you can fistfight the playwright later.” His own hopes for the play were dashed.

    On stage, Zuko is knocked out by Gow, who turns out to be an earthbender. In the ensuing flashback, the audience sees the night Zuko’s mother left him.

    Act 3 begins.

    Gow advances on the unconscious Zuko, with Lee—tied to a post—begging him to get up.

    Zuko opens his eyes and firebends, with pitiful little fireballs. Gow knocks them out of the air, but is burned badly anyway. He falls, and Zuko proclaims victory.

    Plot twist—the audience finally discovers who Zuko is. “My name is Zuko,” the actor says jovially, “son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. Prince of the Fire Nation, and heir to the throne!”

    The Fire Nation part of the audience was silent. The Earth Kingdom part half-heartedly cheered.

    “At least there’s some loyalty in the Fire Nation,” the man in red said triumphantly. “It’d be in bad taste to cheer for an insulting portrayal of their current Fire Lord.”

    The man in green sighed. “You would say that, wouldn’t you.”

    In the play, the Earth Kingdom villagers took turns insulting Zuko. “His own father burned and disowned him,” an old man said. The Fire Nation part of the audience booed at this, and the Earth Kingdom citizens were awkwardly silent. The man in red looked at his friend, only slightly smug.

    “I hate you,” Lee told Zuko.

    Zuko rode out of the town, and the villagers watched him with wary eyes. The curtains dropped.

    “That wasn’t a good play,” the man in green said.

    “We’re outside now,” the man in red replied, “we can stop pretending.”

    If anyone had been looking, they would have seen two cloaked men take off their hoods. The common men were gone. Earth King Kuei and Fire Lord Zuko stood there instead.

    “I suppose you would know just how good that play was,” the Earth King said. “You were there.”

    “I have half a mind to come to the next showing in full regalia,” the Fire Lord replied, “to make them squirm a bit. There’s no fun in coming to a play about myself if I don’t get to correct the playwright.”

    “Half your complaining would be about the technique in the fight scenes,” the Earth King scoffed. “Anyway, at least your people knew enough to stop cheering when they found out how wrong the play was. I’m not sure mine would do the same, if a play was made about me.”

    “After all the assassination attempts, I’ve proven to them that I’m not an easily-killed wimp.” The Fire Lord huffed. “They were under the impression that I was weak for not killing the Avatar. I’d like to see how they do against Aang.”

    “Avatar Aang told me you have a surprising resistance to head injuries,” the Earth King remembered.

    “He blew me into a wall three times the day we met,” the Fire Lord told him. “And that’s not including the time he blew me right off my ship, which was also the day we met.”

    The Earth King gave him a dubious look. “I’d say that’s impossible to survive, but your sister overthrew me and conquered Ba Sing Se at the age of fourteen. I guess I don’t have room to underestimate your family.”

    “Most of my family are war criminals. Stubborn as hell, though.”

    “So are you.”

    “And speaking of plays,” the Fire Lord said, “I hear there’s one about you coming out soon.”

    “Oh? When?”

    “Right before the eight-year anniversary.”

    “Isn’t that in the Northern Water Tribe this time,” the Earth King replied, thinking of Bosco.

    “Unfortunately,” the Fire Lord said, thinking of Druk.

    “Damn. I guess we’ll have to miss opening night. But wouldn’t it be a shame if someone—I don’t know, maybe the Blue Spirit—delayed the play?”

    The Fire Lord smiled at him in the particular way that made his ministers a little scared of him. “I think I might be able to arrange that before the trip.”

    At the fifth showing of the play ‘Zuko Alone’, by the Ember Island Players, Fire Lord Zuko suddenly appeared backstage. He picked up his casted counterpart by the collar, walked up to the director, and loudly asked if the actor looked anything like him. Upon the director’s hesitant answer to the negative, Fire Lord Zuko dropped the actor, loomed over the director, and reportedly asked what sources the director had for the story. He also threateningly told the director that he would be glad to provide an accurate account of the event.

    “And I am not that old,” Fire Lord Zuko reportedly said. 

    “But you couldn’t have done all of that as a child,” the director replied, shaking in his sandals. Doubting the Fire Lord’s abilities was a very bad idea, but unfortunately, the director was from the Earth Kingdom and was not aware of the danger.

    As the critical Fire Nation reader knows, the Earth Kingdom is ruled by many kings, with the Earth King focusing on Ba Sing Se. Since the Earth King is not even an earthbender, Earth Kingdom natives should not be expected to know the implications of Fire Lord. And as the critical Earth Kingdom reader knows, the Fire Lord is always the most powerful firebender in the Fire Nation, as Sozin’s line was forged from dragon fire.

    And, as any historian—and soldier—knows, Fire Lord Zuko was, indeed, crowned at sixteen years old. 

    Fire Lord Zuko, currently twenty-three years old, reportedly pointed at the middle-aged actor and said “I’m not even that old now!”

    The director reportedly looked very closely at the Fire Lord, ignoring how his robes were beginning to smoke from the force of the Fire Lord’s outrage. “Are you sure you’re the Fire Lord,” he reportedly said.

    In an amazing show of control, Fire Lord Zuko did not burn him to death on the spot.

    A week later, Avatar Aang came to the director’s house after a viewing of the play. “So that’s why Sifu Hotman sent me that letter,” the Avatar reportedly told the director. The director, reminded that Fire Lord Zuko was Avatar Aang’s firebending master, ran away as quickly as he could on his broken leg.

    Speaking of that broken leg, the editor would like to tell his Fire Nation readers that their loyalty to the Fire Lord is not in question. The editor would also like to tell them that they shouldn’t go around beating up everyone who insults Fire Lord Zuko, intentionally or not. The editor would like to remind them who, exactly, tried to assassinate Fire Lord Zuko five times in the first year of his reign, because it wasn’t the Earth Kingdom.

    To the editor:

    Your Fire Nation readers would like you to know that those assassination attempts were all the New Ozai Society’s idea. The common citizen is more than willing to die for Fire Lord Zuko. The Fire Nation readers of The Knowledge-bender would like to tell the editor that, if Fire Lord Ozai had had the same level of loyalty from his subjects that Fire Lord Zuko currently has, they would have won the war in a single year. The Fire Nation readers think that the Earth Kingdom, and the rest of the world, should be grateful for Fire Lord Zuko’s comparatively mild temper and commitment to peace.

    Your Fire Nation readers wonder if you would also like a broken leg.

    To the editor of The Knowledge-bender:

    Sorry about them. I’ll try to calm them down. Pro tip: I’ve figured out that the best way to keep the Fire Nation calm is to calmly accept all loyalty and patriotism and try to do something appropriately regal. Since that won’t exactly work for you, try a letter?

    Sincerely, Fire Lord Zuko.

    To Fire Lord Zuko:

    Your citizens are crazy.

    Respectfully, the editor of The Knowledge-bender.

    To the editor:

    You forgot to use ‘Your Majesty’, ‘Your Fieriness’, or any other appropriate terms of address. We sincerely hope you won’t be needing that leg.

    With all due respect (none), your Fire Nation readers.

    To the Fire Nation readers of The Knowledge-bender:

    Please don’t.

    Reproachfully, Fire Lord Zuko.