Although he had decided on the banquet, there was a vast gulf between thought and action, especially for someone as indecisive and lacking in willpower as Zhuge.
In the darkness of his room, the old prince paced back and forth, wavering. His face constantly grimaced as many thoughts swirled within him.
Was he capable of doing something so radical? Would it be worth it? Could he bear the guilt that would gnaw at him? Or would taking that step strengthen him, giving him the resolve he had always envied?
If he were truly capable of acting when he set his mind to it, though, he wouldn't have waited until old age to consider acting on his desire to obtain the power he had longed for for so many years.
"In the end, I don't have the resolve to do it, do I?" Zhuge covered his face with his hands. Sitting on his bed, he sank deeper and deeper into his thoughts, unable to find the flame that would drive him forward.
"Well now~ It seems you can't get your thoughts together, human," a sinister voice echoed through the room. The old man trembled not only at hearing a stranger in his room but also at the meaning of those words and the malice with which they were spoken.
As he turned, he came face to face with a massive, centipede-like body writhing in the void. Its inhuman face was mere inches from his own, causing him to recoil in fear. He soon recognized the creature, but that only made his fear worse.
It had shown an expression. The spirit standing before him was Koh, the Face Thief, whose most well-known trait was stealing the faces of people who showed even the slightest hint of emotion.
Koh shifted slightly, changing his face to that of a small child. He burst into laughter upon sensing the man's fear, who trembled while his mind filled with the consequences of encountering such a being.
He would lose face. But what does losing face entail? Physically, you would lose your eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. Spiritually, you would forget who you are. Even though your heart might still beat, you would no longer be alive.
In essence, you would lose everything that defines you. That was the fate that awaited him. His heart raced as he awaited the imminent outcome. Instead, he heard a cold laugh.
"Oh, hehe. Don't worry, human. I didn't come to steal your face, at least not yet. You know, intense thoughts can leave a mark on people, like the desire to kill. I can see your murderous intent, human. Who do you want to kill?" asked Koh, wriggling as it advanced toward Zhuge, its legs snapping constantly.
"Hehe... What does it matter? I want to kill my father. I want to be king. I want to steal the secrets of his longevity. I want to enjoy the throne," the prince declared without a care. If he could trust those nobles, why couldn't he trust one of the most infamous beings in the world?
"Ah, humans and their desire to extend their fleeting lives. It's all in the face, you know? If you remove the wrinkles from your face, wouldn't you be young again? I can help you with that. I can give you the courage you clearly lack, only if you help me, of course." Although Koh showed no normal expressions on its stolen face, which had changed into that of an old man, the annoyance in its words was detectable.
After all, it had spent a long time talking to one of the most powerful beings in the spirit world, hoping for help and support, but was completely ignored.
Vaatu didn't pay it any attention, not even when it revealed its identity or that of its mother. The only time Vaatu spoke to Koh was when he mentioned the Mother of Faces, saying he'd rather chat with her since she was much more pleasing to the eye.
Koh was infuriated, but he had no power over beings superior to him. Otherwise, he would have stolen the face of Avatar Kuruk, who wounded him in the past during his quest for revenge.
It decided to act on its own. When it approached Omashu, it found a human with equal parts murderous intent and doubt. In the past, it would have stolen the face of such a being, but it now decided to help this one.
"What is your price? Everything has a price," said Zhuge. He did not accept immediately. Using the insight he had learned from dealing with nobles, he wanted to find out what he would have to pay for that help, no matter how much he desired to regain his youth.
"Ah, humans are so predictable. My price is simple, human. I want faces, faces of important figures and people you care about. I think you can grant me that pleasure." Koh's face changed again, this time into that of an extremely attractive woman. If a certain Avatar were here, he might realize that it resonated with him.
Koh had taken on the face of Avatar Kuruk's partner. It could feel the familiar aura of Raava, the new Avatar. Its mouth was already watering at the thought of finding the person the new Avatar cared about most, snatching away their essence, and seeing the rage and helplessness on their face.
It had long fantasized about stealing the face of Sage Shisui. How delightful it would be to steal the face of such a momentous figure during the Age of Order!
Zhuge thought fleetingly of his son, Yun. But soon, desire and ambition, everything he had lived for all these years, obscured the face of the child he had seen born and grow. Yet, he had never felt joy for him because of his youth and closeness to his father.
Was Yun really his son, or did he only want him because of his father? He didn't know. But if Yun's face could help him achieve his dreams and Yun was willing to kill his father, then why not get rid of him? He could have another son if necessary. Or he could ask Koh for eternal youth and reign forever!
Zhuge's green eyes shone with a terrifying light. For the first time, he felt capable of taking that step. So, he walked toward Koh and extended his hand. Koh saw the gesture and couldn't help but laugh as his face shifted to that of a middle-aged man.
"So, when do we start?" Koh asked before extending one of its appendages toward the prince's face and gently brushing his cheek. In other contexts, this gesture would be intimate, but here, it carried an extremely sinister undertone.
"Let's start today."
...
Despite the celebration, tonight's wind felt peculiar. There was something about it, a strange vibe that only the most spiritually sensitive could sense. Something was about to happen: an imminent change for better or worse, depending on the outcome.
Bumi was in his room, sitting at his desk illuminated by a lamp, working on some documents. Being king wasn't just about giving orders and enjoying power. Much of it involved tedious paperwork.
You had to be able to govern effectively, or things would turn into a useless mess in your hands. To enjoy the luxuries and comforts of high status, one must ensure that what they govern can provide those things.
Where would the delicious, expensive food come from without good logistics? Where would the expensive clothes and jewelry come from if there were no market for them? How would you acquire the finest alcohol and the most beautiful women or men if you couldn't generate money?
You had to manage! To do so, you had to complete a lot of paperwork. Bumi, an elderly man, stayed up late every night working on his administrative tasks because he and his people would benefit from it.
Bumi was motivated by the smiles of his citizens. He loved, protected, and cared for them. It was a symbiotic relationship: He made sure they prospered, and in turn, he enjoyed the benefits.
He could have burdened his people with heavy workloads, oppressive taxes, and few comforts. But would he still be Bumi if he were capable of doing that to his people? Could he keep laughing and joking if he saw children mining coal and missing out on their childhoods?
He worked hard every night to keep Omashu in order, even though he had been feeling low on energy lately. His back ached more than before, his posture slumped further, and he could sense it; old age and death were finally closing in on him.
However, Bumi didn't want to simply die in peace without doing anything or working. He couldn't fathom taking a break just because he was old. He had worked without fail every night for decades! No matter what! He had to make Omashu better!
Then, the sound of the knock on the door interrupted him. Bumi straightened his back and looked behind him, his eyes narrowed. He could sense it: a scent he had never smelled before, a threat that should not be in his castle but which had now come too close.
Death. Something that could kill him was behind that door, and his entire being warned him. He was old; he shouldn't fight. He should call the guards. But Bumi wasn't just a king; he was an earthbender, a man as tough as a rock.
Instead of running away and using his age as an excuse, he stood up. As he approached the door, his body began to rumble, and a force as massive, imposing, and heavy as a mountain surged from within him.
He was the King of Omashu and one of the greatest Earthbenders. He was Bumi, King Bumi! Without waiting to confirm the threat, he punched forward, stomping hard on the ground. The floor tiles shook and transformed into spikes that pierced the door.
A stone wall rose to protect the person behind it, but Bumi didn't hesitate. Instead, he thrust his hands forward with open palms, causing the earth beneath him to surge like a wave and shake the enemy wall.
The defenses threatened to strike the person who should have been behind them, but they transformed into thick mud that formed flexible appendages, which lunged at the old man. He waved his hands, severing those tentacles.
"After all these years, you're still just as powerful, or so it seems. But I can tell you've slowed down. You're a little slower than before," the mud split into two parts, revealing the person behind it and causing Bumi's pupils to contract.
It was Zhuge, his son, but much younger. Just as he had been 60 years ago. Somehow, he had regained his youth. The most interesting thing? There were faintly glowing red lights around his face.
"What have you done? What sin have you committed to obtain that appearance?" asked an angry Bumi, knowing that everything comes at a price, even things that seemingly don't.
"Hehe, what's it to you? I'm young; you're not. That's all that matters. It's time to celebrate my coronation, Father. And your funeral," Zhuge declared, stomping hard on the ground and generating a spear of compacted stone that he held in his hand.
"If this is the path you have chosen, my son, then let me show you why your father will always be your father, no matter how much time passes," replied Bumi as the ground began to shake despite his lack of basic earthbending techniques.
Colorful crystals emerged from the ground. One of them was blue and smelled sweet. He took a piece of it and put it in his mouth. He wanted to taste something delicious since he could feel it deep within himself.
If he didn't get help, he would die. But he had to fight, and if he was going to do so, he wanted it to be with a sweet taste in his mouth, not the salty taste of his own blood. The King decided to give it his all in what might be his last fight.
He hoped it wouldn't be, though.
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AN: Sorry for the delay, I've been up since 5 a.m. working on a group project; it's the end of the semester. I hate React, I hate Git, I hate databases, but hey, college.