The Best PAYE Tax Calculator in Zambia
The unemployment rate in Zambia in 2022 was 6.13%, decreasing by less than 1% since 2021. Unemployment rates are, of course, viewed negatively. However, smart employers see these rates as a talent pool eagerly awaiting the right opportunities.
Hiring and paying talent in Zambia could be a great opportunity for local and international employers. Companies get diverse skills and varied cultures, which benefit the financial and brand aspects of the businesses.
But hiring from Zambia also means taking the responsibility of PAYE taxes. Employers must make accurate deductions and remit the taxes to the correct authorities. This task warrants the use of good PAYE tax calculation software or service provider.
The information below explores PAYE tax compliance in Zambia and the best PAYE Tax Calculator in Zambia.
PAYE Requirements in Zambia
Like most African countries, Zambia applies a tax collection system on individual employees known as Pay as You Earn or PAYE. The method taxes employees based on their wages or salaries. This tax collection is a significant source of income that the Zambia Revenue Authority (ZRA) administers every tax year. The year runs starting January 1st to December 31st.
Employers must deduct the tax from employee salaries and remit it to the revenue authority. They do this for every employee and must submit the tax on or before the 14th of the following month.
Per the Income Tax Act, Zambia’s PAYE tax rates are progressive. So, the more an employee earns, the higher their tax rate. Below are the working individual income tax rates in Zambia:
Earnings in Kwacha (ZK) | Tax Rate
0 to K4,800 - 0% or no tax
K4,801 to K6,800 - 20%
K6,801 to K8,900 - 30%
Above K8,900 - 37.5%
Therefore, employers can calculate PAYE by summing the basic salary, commissions, and other earnings, then subtracting the deductions and exemptions per tax laws, determining the taxable income. With the resulting value, employers can apply the corresponding tax rate to the value and discover the PAYE.
What are PAYE Calculators?
PAYE calculators are software or digital tools that help employers and HR personnel calculate the income tax they must withhold from an employee's wages or salary per the country's tax regulations and laws.
These calculators are ideal for ensuring accurate and compliant tax deductions. Good PAYE calculators can:
Consider tax deductions. Good PAYE calculators consider the required deductions such as pension, healthcare, and other allowable expenses that reduce the taxable income.
Account for various income tax factors. PAYE calculators can account for deductions, tax allowances, and tax rates to calculate the right tax deductions for each employee.
Update tax rates and brackets. Good PAYE calculators update tax rates and brackets per changes to the legislature.
Remit taxes and payroll frequently. Employers can adjust the PAYE calculations for frequent payroll processing and tax deductions. Good calculators can offer weekly, monthly, and annual calculations.
Report. Good PAYE calculators can generate real-time reports such as payslips for employees and withholding tax summaries for employers.
Workpay Payroll: The Best PAYE Calculator in Zambia
Workpay is the best payroll management provider in Zambia. The solution makes payroll processing simple, effective, and, most importantly, accurate. The payroll feature helps with PAYE calculation in Africa, meaning employers in Zambia or with remote employees in the country can use the award-winning payroll, HR, and Benefits platform for accurate tax remissions.
Workpay Payroll Features
The Workpay payroll feature is an innovative and easy way for Zambian employees to ensure PAYE tax compliance while running payroll. Some features that make Workpay the best PAYE calculator in Zambia include:
Integration
The Workpay calculator fully integrates with payroll and other Workpay services. Employers use the software to streamline the payroll process into a single platform by pulling information from various sources such as ZRA and employee files.
In addition, Workpay integrates with services such as Employer of Record (EOR), allowing employers to make accurate deductions based on the taxing laws of the employee's country without setting up a local entity. Therefore, it ensures compliance with not just tax regulations but labor laws as well.
Accurate Calculations
Because the payroll feature integrates with taxation requirements, employers can expect accurate PAYE calculations for employees in Zambia. The calculation accounts for deductions and allowances and then aligns the taxable value of each employee with the corresponding tax bracket. The result is accurate tax deductions and salaries to individual workers.
Timely Payments
Payroll processing with Workpay is automatic, so employers can remit taxes to the ZRA on time with the peace of mind that their employees will also receive salaries on time. The payroll software can make quick calculations in seconds for multiple employees. Compared to human labor, it is much faster with the advantage of accuracy.
Self-Service
The payroll processor offers excellent convenience to both parties. Employers can conveniently access PAYE information and integrated services from web browsers and the app. Similarly, employees can access their information, payslips, and integrated services using the same methods.
Time-Saving
The Workpay PAYE calculator is fast and effective. It would take extensive time to calculate PAYE for each employee using human labor for a company with more than ten employees. Workpay makes these calculations in a few minutes, saving time that could go into other company processes.
Comprehensive Reports
Workpay provides access to comprehensive reports to employers. They can access PAYE reports in real time from anywhere for filing or referencing. These reports are useful if the company needs to prove compliance with labor and tax laws.
Customer Support
Lastly, Workpay offers employers 24/7 customer support and real-time assistance with PAYE calculations. It contributes to on-time tax remissions and employee payments.
Final Observation
As of 2022, Zambia's unemployment rate has experienced only marginal improvement, underlining the significance of opportunities for employers to tap into this skilled workforce.
Hiring and compensating talent in Zambia can be mutually beneficial. Nevertheless, it comes with a responsibility– the accurate calculation and remittance of PAYE taxes.
Workpay Payroll is the solution for this critical aspect of employment. Workpay's PAYE calculator stands out due to its key features: seamless integration, calculation accuracy, timely payments, self-service accessibility, time-saving capabilities, comprehensive reporting, and round-the-clock customer support.
Workpay Payroll is more than just a tool; it is a strategic asset that empowers employers to thrive in Zambia's evolving job market. Get in touch with us to begin your journey of compliance with Zambia PAYE requirements.
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Late addition one-shot for Zutara Month is posted!
Allegory
Three years after the end of the Hundred Years War, Katara asks Zuko to tell her the story of the Painted Lady for a second time.
Read it on AO3 or read below the cut.
Katara digs her bare feet into the cool sands of Ember Island. The breeze that lifts her curls across her face is a bitter one, but not cold as the icy tundras of her homeland. She wraps her arms around herself, less for the warmth and more for the touch. The moon is full, casting a silver blanket over the darkened ocean. The small waves that skitter onto the shoreline glitter with firelight from the evening’s festivities. Katara can still hear the celebratory music, the laughter, all the promised jubilee of the post-war world from the large house on the dune that had once been her temporary home.
She wiggles her toes. The shore seems the same as it ever did, soft and too inviting for a country built on conquest. The waves roar just as they had the days before Sozin’s comet. She takes in the sounds alongside the salty air of the beach, ignoring the cacophony of conviviality she left behind. A small wave crawls its way over her ankles, turning the sand around her feet into heavy plaster. Inside there is a party, an important party. On this beach there is an aching loneliness, an unexpected resignation.
So much about the world had changed in the last three years, but this sand was the same. Three years of rebuilding, three years of ongoing peace talks and messy decolonization, three years of putting off her actual life. Katara had been an essential part of all of these world-changing processes, and yet still she felt as if the sun and moon had risen and set around her stationary body, stuck in the ground like her feet were now.
“Can’t stay away from it for long, hmm?”
The voice lifts itself up among the tides of merriment and salt water. Katara blinks rapidly as she turns around, her feet twisting in their spot, loosening the grip of the shoreline’s grit. She is met with the flickering outline of the Fire Lord.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks, a quizzical expression on her face. She quickly adds a second question, “stay away from what?”
“The ocean,” Zuko replies in his usual succinct manner, arms crossed, “and that was going to be my next question to you.”
Katara pauses, turning back to the water as if to seek advice.
“I was going to practice waterbending,” she does not face Zuko as she replies, choosing to lie to the ocean instead. “What are you doing here? Isn’t that whole thing for you?” She gestures vaguely to the celebration occurring behind them.
He shrugs, stepping off the lacquered wooden steps leading from the house to the shore, his bare feet also sinking into the pillowy sand. He had changed from earlier in the night, no longer in his embellished ceremonial robes. No crown adorns his head.
“I come out here a lot.” He says in a way that suggests the answer should be obvious, “and this is an odd time to be practicing waterbending.”
“I always loved practicing on this beach.”
This part was true - an excellent addition to the recipe of a facade. She had spent many hours practicing waterbending forms on this beach, integrating things she had learned from Toph’s earthbending lessons to Aang, Suki’s nimble Kyoshi warrior moves, and even some of Sokka’s swordplay philosophies.
“I remember.” He was close to her now. The slight chill of the night’s atmosphere warmed in his presence as if it respected his royalty, his natural command of heat. Feeling the difference, Katara loosens her grip on her arms, her feet leaving their hiding spot to face him.
“We used to practice out here together,” Zuko continues, “don’t think I forgot.”
He fixes his eyes on her as he says it. In his cadence is an earnestness that only comes with the hard lessons he’s learned. It’s an intensity that is familiar but always unexpected, a type of vulnerability that she still finds unsettling.
Katara is ashamed. It took less courage to take on Azula than it does to hold Zuko’s gaze. She looks down at the oncoming seawater that engulfs both of their ankles.
Soju glasses and waves clink and crash. The wind blows her hair across her face again.
“I guess I also came out here to reminisce,” she adds another dash of truth to her concoction, this time speaking it to the sands, “I’ve been gone for a long time.” She pulls her delicate strands behind her ear.
“Nearly three years,” he says quickly, like he knew the exact count of days and was eager to share it. “But look at the Southern Water Tribe now. No one would ever be able to tell that an arrogant prince once sailed his hideous war ship right into your village.”
Katara allows a small chuckle to escape from a half-hearted smile. Zuko is smiling back at her, a phenomenon seen more frequently since the end of the war, but a rare one nonetheless.
“So what were you reminiscing about?”
Katara chews her bottom lip before responding.
“Do you remember…”
The words come slowly, navigating all there is to say like the ice dodging rituals of her tribe. She had sought the shoreline to seek refuge from the night’s festivities. She had come to collect her thoughts, to navigate the waves of the last three years, to try to come to terms with why she felt like a shipwreck.
She changes course.
“Why did you really come out here?”
Zuko frowns.
“Noticed you were gone,” he says. “Do y-...do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
It surprised Katara to have uttered the word so quickly. It was as if it had jumped out in response to all the times in the last three years of summits and peace talks that they had missed.
Zuko walks around her like a priceless vase in a museum, hesitant to get too close. He steps closer to the ocean. The sand is still damp from the receding tide, but he sits anyway.
“Well then,” he pulls his knees up, resting his elbows on them, “let’s reminisce.”
Katara follows in his footsteps, placing herself gently on the ground beside him. Another small wave splashes onto the shore. It stretches itself toward them, but just falls short.
“Do you remember after the fight… the Agni Kai with Azula, when I was trying to keep you awake? When I wanted to make sure you would… stay with me while I tried to heal you?”
The question is disjointed and clumsy. It staggers from her mouth unwillingly.
“Yes.” Zuko nods solemnly.
“Do you remember how I asked you to tell me a story? Any story? And you were so out of it you didn’t know which one to tell… so I asked if you knew about the Painted Lady?”
Zuko nods a second time, his eyes fixed to the side of Katara’s moonlit face. She still can’t look directly at him.
“Will you… tell me again? Tell me about the Painted Lady?”
Zuko doesn’t remark on the peculiarity of the request, doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t mention that he has other places he’s meant to be, doesn’t note how she must know the story. He just studies her face, his own deliberate and restrained. The breeze blows silently between them until he eventually begins.
“The Painted Lady is unique among Fire Nation spirits,” he starts, the scratch of his voice suddenly deeper, “because she is actually a water spirit. She is also rare in that she was a human before she became a spirit. The story of the Painted Lady is a story that is, above all, about love.”
He refocuses his attention on the beach beneath them as he begins to fulfill her request, poking absentmindedly at the sand.
“In her mortal life, she lived in Jang Hui. At the time, the town was just a small village. They didn’t have much, and steep, forest-covered mountain faces surrounded the river. The Painted Lady was then known as Takiko, a humble but gracious maiden in the village. She worked as a seamstress, refining the art of weaving fishing nets into extravagant veils for brides of the Fire Nation aristocracy. When she was not working on her creations, she would swim in the clear waters of the river. She was attached to the river, cared about it. For most of the villagers, the river was prized because of what it could provide to the people, not for what it was. Takiko’s unconventional nature was tolerated because she was not only a talented and skilled artisan… “ Zuko hesitates as he considers the parameters of his storytelling and the request that was made of him. Katara finally looks at him as he hesitates, and he is able to meet the deep blue of her eyes as he finishes his sentence.
“... She was also incredibly beautiful.”
He did remember how he had told her the story the first time, glassy-eyed and tender, exposed and forthright. His narrative had been erratic and forgetful, but the emphasis on these words had been the same. She could still feel the way he had clutched her wrist, as if he was desperate to confess a sin to the spirits before entering their realm. The image stuck in her mind like a pearl in an oyster, a seed of knowledge developed over time, only to be harvested at the most inopportune moment.
“It was this beauty and zeal for life, her skill and legitimate care for her people that caused the Water Dragon, the Spirit World’s guardian of the river, to fall in love with Takiko. He would watch her from afar as she worked, as she swam in the river he guarded, and as she struggled against the forces of the Fire Nation royalty and aristocracy that sought to exploit the river to ruin. Even before the Hundred Years War, the Jang Hui river had been subject to overfishing and other forms of abuse. Takiko would often berate the mercenaries who enforced the trade practices. Each time, the Water Dragon would yearn to step in and help, but he was not powerful enough to cross into the mortal realm. Each time Takiko would stand up to the soldiers, they got more and more aggressive with her. They even left her with burn marks on her face from one of the encounters. Still, she never lost hope, and still the Dragon loved her. “
Katara swallows thickly, realization trickling into her mind like a spring with each word Zuko says.
“Eventually, the mercenaries tired of her interference, and the tolerance and protection she had enjoyed from her favor with the ladies of the ruling class could not save her. That morning, they had caught Takiko sabotaging a fishing boat set to voyage into an already over-fished area of the river. The mercenaries dragged her to the edge of the docks, binding her arms and feet. They growled insults at her as they threw her into the water. She struggled against the ropes and the deluge of her beloved river. She felt herself sinking steadily, quietly, her breath leaving her body in small bubbles that danced to the surface. The Water Dragon, seeing the encounter, returned desperately to the Spirit World to seek the favor of Paresh, one of the Supreme spirits and the only entity capable of helping him. He begged the more powerful Alldragon to help him cross over into the mortal world, to help him save Takiko, knowing the consequences of his request. Paresh, not always known for benevolence, was moved by the lesser dragon’s plea and self-sacrifice, and granted his wish. However, the deal had conditions - if he saved the maiden and lived out his mortal life with her, upon his death he would serve Paresh in whatever capacity he wished. The Water Dragon immediately agreed, and the deal was made official as he accepted a mysterious mask from the Supreme spirit. Upon making the deal, The Water Dragon raced back to the mortal realm to find Takiko still struggling, still fighting to keep herself alive. She was nearly ready to give up when she felt her lungs fill to the brim with oxygen, and pressure that felt like the softest kiss of a lover on her lips.”
Zuko pauses, nervously rubbing his palms together. It was clear he had a clearer memory of his first telling of this story than she had assumed. She could tell he could remember how close he had been to her, his breath heavy from pain, adrenaline, and trepidation. He must remember how he had reached for her, clasping her cheek as he recounted the tale, thumb brushing over her lips. Her heart roars like the ocean. She reaches for him this time, ceasing the movement of his hands by placing hers on them.
“Please,” she says sadly, “go on.”
Zuko swallows his shame as he continues.
“Takiko was suddenly lifted from the river, her restraints torn asunder, and she stood towering above her attackers on a column of the river’s current. The men screamed, frightened, and tried to run from the impending onslaught. Instead, the water crashed into them, sending them hurtling into the hard wood of the docks. Soggy and terrified, the men scrambled to their feet and ran from the village entirely, never to return. Exhausted, Takiko found herself steadied by the strong arms of a mysterious young man. His face was obscured by a dark blue mask with an imposing protrusion of two tusks carved into it with what looked like the silver threads of the moon. She thanked the man, feeling oddly as if she knew him, knew that he had watched over her. Hesitantly, she gingerly placed a hand on the right side of the stranger’s face, her thumb grazing the gaping maw of his ominous disguise. A feeling of love she could not explain washed over her as she lifted the mask. From that day on, Takiko and the Water Dragon were not parted until it came time for him to make good on his bargain. On that day, the Water Dragon became The Blue Spirit. And when it came time for the end of Takiko’s life, through her immense dedication to justice, hope, and her love she became the Painted Lady, swearing to watch over the river of the Water Dragon who had watched over her, and eventually be reunited with her love.”
Zuko concludes the tale, a wistful tone in his husky voice. A drop of moisture falls between them and quickly melts onto the beach. He can barely hear Katara’s voice, feeble and forlorn, over the continuing sounds of the now forgotten party they had both sought refuge from.
“Thank you for telling me this story again, Zuko. It… means a lot to me. This story means a lot to me… you-“
She stops, unable to finish the sentence, her feelings revealing themselves in a deluge. He had tried to tell her three years ago, tried to pull her from the depths of doubt and confusion. In the midst of the war’s end and the rebuilding of the world, she had not seen what was right in front of her.
Zuko watches helplessly as a trail of regret leads a crooked path from Katara’s eyes to her chin.
“Katara, I- “ he searches desperately for the words, “All this time, I… I just thought you didn’t - we never had time to - “
“Lord Zuko!” The new voice bursts like a lightning bolt between the two of them. Katara snatches her hand away from the Fire Lord’s fingers, rubbing her eyes discreetly.
“What are you doing out here, sire?”
There she was, the source of the joy and merriment of the evening, the reason for the nation’s rejoice. Her voice was light and pleasant, exactly what was to be expected from a well-bred maiden of the Fire Nation upper classes, exactly the kind of tone and articulation the next Fire Lady should have. She stands small and dainty at the top of the stairs, heavily decorated, her face painted in an elegant pattern, still wearing the ceremonial robes of her new station.
Zuko’s amber eyes are hard, his jaw taut as he turns his attention to the new arrival. His voice is the controlled, disciplined tone of the ruler he is as he calls back to her.
“I’ll be back inside in just a moment. I’m just catching up with Master Katara.”
The delicate young woman flicks her eyes over the waterbender.
“I won’t rush you, my Lord,” she responds, “but I am missing your presence at our celebration.”
Zuko nods.
“I’ll re-join everyone shortly,” he replies.
The young woman smiles pleasantly as she bows. Her elaborate kimono whirls around her slim frame as she returns to the house.
Katara watches the young woman’s retreat, eyebrows furrowed.
“Firelord Zuko,” she addresses her companion dolefully, “thank you again for the story. I think I’ll be able to remember it much better this time. “
“Katara, I… we-“ he stutters, realization struggling with responsibility.
“It’s a beautiful legend,” Katara interrupts. Back only in the view of the moonlight, she dares to face him, smoothing her hands over his tunic to brush grains of sand from the threads. He stops her movement, gently clasping both her wrists as she looks up at him falteringly. She tries unsuccessfully to blink away the unwelcome stinging in her eyelids.
“I’m sorry I didn’t understand it before.”
Their roles, the deal they made with the world when they ended the war, settles between them in a somber silence.
“Now,” Katara gingerly removes herself from Zuko’s grip, her voice just a breath cracking amongst the sea breeze, “you should go be with your fiancé.”
Katara digs her bare feet into the cool sands of Ember Island. The breeze that lifts her curls across her face is a bitter one, but not cold as the icy tundras of her homeland. She wraps her arms around herself, less for the warmth and more for the touch. The moon is full, casting a silver blanket over the darkened ocean. The small waves that skitter onto the shoreline glitter with firelight from the evening’s festivities. Katara can still hear the celebratory music, the laughter, all the promised jubilee of the post-war world from the large house on the dune that had once been her temporary home.
She wiggles her toes. The shore seems the same as it ever did, soft and too inviting for a country built on conquest. The waves roar just as they had the days before Sozin’s comet. She takes in the sounds alongside the salty air of the beach, ignoring the cacophony of conviviality she left behind. A small wave crawls its way over her ankles, turning the sand around her feet into heavy plaster. Inside there is a party, an important party. On this beach there is an aching loneliness, an unexpected resignation.
So much about the world had changed in the last three years, but this sand was the same. Three years of rebuilding, three years of ongoing peace talks and messy decolonization, three years of putting off her actual life. Katara had been an essential part of all of these world-changing processes, and yet still she felt as if the sun and moon had risen and set around her stationary body, stuck in the ground like her feet were now.
“Can’t stay away from it for long, hmm?”
The voice lifts itself up among the tides of merriment and salt water. Katara blinks rapidly as she turns around, her feet twisting in their spot, loosening the grip of the shoreline’s grit. She is met with the flickering outline of the Fire Lord.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks, a quizzical expression on her face. She quickly adds a second question, “stay away from what?”
“The ocean,” Zuko replies in his usual succinct manner, arms crossed, “and that was going to be my next question to you.”
Katara pauses, turning back to the water as if to seek advice.
“I was going to practice waterbending,” she does not face Zuko as she replies, choosing to lie to the ocean instead. “What are you doing here? Isn’t that whole thing for you?” She gestures vaguely to the celebration occurring behind them.
He shrugs, stepping off the lacquered wooden steps leading from the house to the shore, his bare feet also sinking into the pillowy sand. He had changed from earlier in the night, no longer in his embellished ceremonial robes. No crown adorns his head.
“I come out here a lot.” He says in a way that suggests the answer should be obvious, “and this is an odd time to be practicing waterbending.”
“I always loved practicing on this beach.”
This part was true - an excellent addition to the recipe of a facade. She had spent many hours practicing waterbending forms on this beach, integrating things she had learned from Toph’s earthbending lessons to Aang, Suki’s nimble Kyoshi warrior moves, and even some of Sokka’s swordplay philosophies.
“I remember.” He was close to her now. The slight chill of the night’s atmosphere warmed in his presence as if it respected his royalty, his natural command of heat. Feeling the difference, Katara loosens her grip on her arms, her feet leaving their hiding spot to face him.
“We used to practice out here together,” Zuko continues, “don’t think I forgot.”
He fixes his eyes on her as he says it. In his cadence is an earnestness that only comes with the hard lessons he’s learned. It’s an intensity that is familiar but always unexpected, a type of vulnerability that she still finds unsettling.
Katara is ashamed. It took less courage to take on Azula than it does to hold Zuko’s gaze. She looks down at the oncoming seawater that engulfs both of their ankles.
Soju glasses and waves clink and crash. The wind blows her hair across her face again.
“I guess I also came out here to reminisce,” she adds another dash of truth to her concoction, this time speaking it to the sands, “I’ve been gone for a long time.” She pulls her delicate strands behind her ear.
“Nearly three years,” he says quickly, like he knew the exact count of days and was eager to share it. “But look at the Southern Water Tribe now. No one would ever be able to tell that an arrogant prince once sailed his hideous war ship right into your village.”
Katara allows a small chuckle to escape from a half-hearted smile. Zuko is smiling back at her, a phenomenon seen more frequently since the end of the war, but a rare one nonetheless.
“So what were you reminiscing about?”
Katara chews her bottom lip before responding.
“Do you remember…”
The words come slowly, navigating all there is to say like the ice dodging rituals of her tribe. She had sought the shoreline to seek refuge from the night’s festivities. She had come to collect her thoughts, to navigate the waves of the last three years, to try to come to terms with why she felt like a shipwreck.
She changes course.
“Why did you really come out here?”
Zuko frowns.
“Noticed you were gone,” he says. “Do y-...do you want me to leave?”
“No.”
It surprised Katara to have uttered the word so quickly. It was as if it had jumped out in response to all the times in the last three years of summits and peace talks that they had missed.
Zuko walks around her like a priceless vase in a museum, hesitant to get too close. He steps closer to the ocean. The sand is still damp from the receding tide, but he sits anyway.
“Well then,” he pulls his knees up, resting his elbows on them, “let’s reminisce.”
Katara follows in his footsteps, placing herself gently on the ground beside him. Another small wave splashes onto the shore. It stretches itself toward them, but just falls short.
“Do you remember after the fight… the Agni Kai with Azula, when I was trying to keep you awake? When I wanted to make sure you would… stay with me while I tried to heal you?”
The question is disjointed and clumsy. It staggers from her mouth unwillingly.
“Yes.” Zuko nods solemnly.
“Do you remember how I asked you to tell me a story? Any story? And you were so out of it you didn’t know which one to tell… so I asked if you knew about the Painted Lady?”
Zuko nods a second time, his eyes fixed to the side of Katara’s moonlit face. She still can’t look directly at him.
“Will you… tell me again? Tell me about the Painted Lady?”
Zuko doesn’t remark on the peculiarity of the request, doesn’t ask why. He doesn’t mention that he has other places he’s meant to be, doesn’t note how she must know the story. He just studies her face, his own deliberate and restrained. The breeze blows silently between them until he eventually begins.
“The Painted Lady is unique among Fire Nation spirits,” he starts, the scratch of his voice suddenly deeper, “because she is actually a water spirit. She is also rare in that she was a human before she became a spirit. The story of the Painted Lady is a story that is, above all, about love.”
He refocuses his attention on the beach beneath them as he begins to fulfill her request, poking absentmindedly at the sand.
“In her mortal life, she lived in Jang Hui. At the time, the town was just a small village. They didn’t have much, and steep, forest-covered mountain faces surrounded the river. The Painted Lady was then known as Takiko, a humble but gracious maiden in the village. She worked as a seamstress, refining the art of weaving fishing nets into extravagant veils for brides of the Fire Nation aristocracy. When she was not working on her creations, she would swim in the clear waters of the river. She was attached to the river, cared about it. For most of the villagers, the river was prized because of what it could provide to the people, not for what it was. Takiko’s unconventional nature was tolerated because she was not only a talented and skilled artisan… “ Zuko hesitates as he considers the parameters of his storytelling and the request that was made of him. Katara finally looks at him as he hesitates, and he is able to meet the deep blue of her eyes as he finishes his sentence.
“... She was also incredibly beautiful.”
He did remember how he had told her the story the first time, glassy-eyed and tender, exposed and forthright. His narrative had been erratic and forgetful, but the emphasis on these words had been the same. She could still feel the way he had clutched her wrist, as if he was desperate to confess a sin to the spirits before entering their realm. The image stuck in her mind like a pearl in an oyster, a seed of knowledge developed over time, only to be harvested at the most inopportune moment.
“It was this beauty and zeal for life, her skill and legitimate care for her people that caused the Water Dragon, the Spirit World’s guardian of the river, to fall in love with Takiko. He would watch her from afar as she worked, as she swam in the river he guarded, and as she struggled against the forces of the Fire Nation royalty and aristocracy that sought to exploit the river to ruin. Even before the Hundred Years War, the Jang Hui river had been subject to overfishing and other forms of abuse. Takiko would often berate the mercenaries who enforced the trade practices. Each time, the Water Dragon would yearn to step in and help, but he was not powerful enough to cross into the mortal realm. Each time Takiko would stand up to the soldiers, they got more and more aggressive with her. They even left her with burn marks on her face from one of the encounters. Still, she never lost hope, and still the Dragon loved her. “
Katara swallows thickly, realization trickling into her mind like a spring with each word Zuko says.
“Eventually, the mercenaries tired of her interference, and the tolerance and protection she had enjoyed from her favor with the ladies of the ruling class could not save her. That morning, they had caught Takiko sabotaging a fishing boat set to voyage into an already over-fished area of the river. The mercenaries dragged her to the edge of the docks, binding her arms and feet. They growled insults at her as they threw her into the water. She struggled against the ropes and the deluge of her beloved river. She felt herself sinking steadily, quietly, her breath leaving her body in small bubbles that danced to the surface. The Water Dragon, seeing the encounter, returned desperately to the Spirit World to seek the favor of Paresh, one of the Supreme spirits and the only entity capable of helping him. He begged the more powerful Alldragon to help him cross over into the mortal world, to help him save Takiko, knowing the consequences of his request. Paresh, not always known for benevolence, was moved by the lesser dragon’s plea and self-sacrifice, and granted his wish. However, the deal had conditions - if he saved the maiden and lived out his mortal life with her, upon his death he would serve Paresh in whatever capacity he wished. The Water Dragon immediately agreed, and the deal was made official as he accepted a mysterious mask from the Supreme spirit. Upon making the deal, The Water Dragon raced back to the mortal realm to find Takiko still struggling, still fighting to keep herself alive. She was nearly ready to give up when she felt her lungs fill to the brim with oxygen, and pressure that felt like the softest kiss of a lover on her lips.”
Zuko pauses, nervously rubbing his palms together. It was clear he had a clearer memory of his first telling of this story than she had assumed. She could tell he could remember how close he had been to her, his breath heavy from pain, adrenaline, and trepidation. He must remember how he had reached for her, clasping her cheek as he recounted the tale, thumb brushing over her lips. Her heart roars like the ocean. She reaches for him this time, ceasing the movement of his hands by placing hers on them.
“Please,” she says sadly, “go on.”
Zuko swallows his shame as he continues.
“Takiko was suddenly lifted from the river, her restraints torn asunder, and she stood towering above her attackers on a column of the river’s current. The men screamed, frightened, and tried to run from the impending onslaught. Instead, the water crashed into them, sending them hurtling into the hard wood of the docks. Soggy and terrified, the men scrambled to their feet and ran from the village entirely, never to return. Exhausted, Takiko found herself steadied by the strong arms of a mysterious young man. His face was obscured by a dark blue mask with an imposing protrusion of two tusks carved into it with what looked like the silver threads of the moon. She thanked the man, feeling oddly as if she knew him, knew that he had watched over her. Hesitantly, she gingerly placed a hand on the right side of the stranger’s face, her thumb grazing the gaping maw of his ominous disguise. A feeling of love she could not explain washed over her as she lifted the mask. From that day on, Takiko and the Water Dragon were not parted until it came time for him to make good on his bargain. On that day, the Water Dragon became The Blue Spirit. And when it came time for the end of Takiko’s life, through her immense dedication to justice, hope, and her love she became the Painted Lady, swearing to watch over the river of the Water Dragon who had watched over her, and eventually be reunited with her love.”
Zuko concludes the tale, a wistful tone in his husky voice. A drop of moisture falls between them and quickly melts onto the beach. He can barely hear Katara’s voice, feeble and forlorn, over the continuing sounds of the now forgotten party they had both sought refuge from.
“Thank you for telling me this story again, Zuko. It… means a lot to me. This story means a lot to me… you-“
She stops, unable to finish the sentence, her feelings revealing themselves in a deluge. He had tried to tell her three years ago, tried to pull her from the depths of doubt and confusion. In the midst of the war’s end and the rebuilding of the world, she had not seen what was right in front of her.
Zuko watches helplessly as a trail of regret leads a crooked path from Katara’s eyes to her chin.
“Katara, I- “ he searches desperately for the words, “All this time, I… I just thought you didn’t - we never had time to - “
“Lord Zuko!” The new voice bursts like a lightning bolt between the two of them. Katara snatches her hand away from the Fire Lord’s fingers, rubbing her eyes discreetly.
“What are you doing out here, sire?”
There she was, the source of the joy and merriment of the evening, the reason for the nation’s rejoice. Her voice was light and pleasant, exactly what was to be expected from a well-bred maiden of the Fire Nation upper classes, exactly the kind of tone and articulation the next Fire Lady should have. She stands small and dainty at the top of the stairs, heavily decorated, her face painted in an elegant pattern, still wearing the ceremonial robes of her new station.
Zuko’s amber eyes are hard, his jaw taut as he turns his attention to the new arrival. His voice is the controlled, disciplined tone of the ruler he is as he calls back to her.
“I’ll be back inside in just a moment. I’m just catching up with Master Katara.”
The delicate young woman flicks her eyes over the waterbender.
“I won’t rush you, my Lord,” she responds, “but I am missing your presence at our celebration.”
Zuko nods.
“I’ll re-join everyone shortly,” he replies.
The young woman smiles pleasantly as she bows. Her elaborate kimono whirls around her slim frame as she returns to the house.
Katara watches the young woman’s retreat, eyebrows furrowed.
“Firelord Zuko,” she addresses her companion dolefully, “thank you again for the story. I think I’ll be able to remember it much better this time. “
“Katara, I… we-“ he stutters, realization struggling with responsibility.
“It’s a beautiful legend,” Katara interrupts. Back only in the view of the moonlight, she dares to face him, smoothing her hands over his tunic to brush grains of sand from the threads. He stops her movement, gently clasping both her wrists as she looks up at him falteringly. She tries unsuccessfully to blink away the unwelcome stinging in her eyelids.
“I’m sorry I didn’t understand it before.”
Their roles, the deal they made with the world when they ended the war, settles between them in a somber silence.
“Now,” Katara gingerly removes herself from Zuko’s grip, her voice just a breath cracking amongst the sea breeze, “you should go be with your fiancé.”
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