Pier Village

“I never should have come here,” Zuko growled to himself and Vaatu as he slunk away into an alley for the fifth time that hour, avoiding sight from the pirates.

Not to mention the horrified people locking their eyes to his face.

It was a baffling - humiliating - experience, watching the Earth Kingdom merchants and bums stare at him in horror; not for themselves - not like when he had marched through these same streets as a banished prince - but for him.

It was almost comforting to witness the sneers on the Fire Nation soldiers’ faces, watching their noses wrinkle in derision before turning away.

It was familiar.

Yet… It grated at Zuko, seeing how the people of the Earth Kingdom - the enemy of his people - seemed to bear more sympathy for him than his own kin.

His own subjects.

…No. No, they weren’t his subjects, not anymore. Not after fusing with Vaatu to become an… Avatar .

Zuko’s scarred fist tightened at the reminder.

Besides, if those few that looked at him with sorrowful eyes knew who he was… they wouldn’t be so merciful.

He didn’t deserve their mercy.

‘I am growing tired of listening to your self-hatred, vessel,’ Vaatu rumbled, shifting within Zuko to better hide him within the shadows of the alley, ‘Why are we still here, if it pains you so?’

Before Zuko could answer, his stomach rumbled… loudly , which was an answer in and of itself.

Vaatu hummed, ‘Ah… You have not eaten as much as I expected, vessel. Though, perhaps you humans evolved to require less sustenance?’

Despite feeling that Vaatu’s question was genuine, Zuko growled in a low tone, “Don’t patronise me.”

Vaatu became silent, allowing Zuko a brief respite to lean against the cold stone of the alley, and try to banish away any and all memories of Uncle trying to get Zuko to eat just over a month ago, and the ensuing hunger those memories brought.

It wasn’t a very blissful silence.

Zuko wasn’t interrupted from his silence in a very blissful manner, either, as he began to shudder when an artificial chill entered his bones, before moving out of his skin and into his shadow, growing longer against the fading light of the setting sun, until it stood across the ground with long limbs that almost seemed to glow a haunting blue.

Zuko’s eye widened when he remembered they weren’t alone.

“ The Blue Spirit? ” Zuko whispered in surprise - he felt Vaatu perk up; it seemed that the Great Spirit was surprised as well - “I… Were you following us the whole time? ”

The Blue Spirit - or what Zuko was pretty sure was the shadow of the Blue Spirit, given its silhouette - pointed a sharp finger to the left, deeper into the alleyways of the small village.

Zuko pushed himself off the wall without thinking, “You want me to follow?” The shadow nodded, and, though he began to descend into the alley, Zuko couldn’t help but ask with a smidgen of suspicion, “Why?”

The Blue Spirit didn’t answer, and Zuko scowled, partially at himself and at the spirit.

He had forgotten that the Blue Spirit was apparently mute.

Zuko manoeuvred over a few boxes onto the rooftop - it would be quicker than weaving through the streets - casting an annoyed glare towards the last shimmers of sunlight over the sea, “Why-”

His question was cut off by a distant scream - a pleading scream - and Zuko whirled around, leaping without conscious thought towards the sound.

He only just heard the sound where he was standing.

Had the Blue Spirit not urged him to move, the sound would have fallen onto deaf ears.

Zuko ran, boots stomping loudly on mismatched tiles before quickly drowning out into hushed shifts in the air as he adjusted for the boots’ weight. As he ran, nights’ - years’ - worth of running atop rooftops and through forests wearing a blue mask instilled within his body the instinct to remain swift despite heavy clothes, to remain silent despite laboured breathing, to remain dexterous despite the loss of depth perception-

Zuko tripped on a loose tile that he thought was further away than it actually was.

Zuko fell, slamming into the ground next to a terrified woman in green, and next to a momentarily shocked man wearing crimson armour.

Wearing Fire Nation armour.

The man bore golden eyes down at Zuko’s fallen form before looking away with a scoff, “Fuckin’ raining idiots today, isn’t it?” The man gripped the woman’s arm as she tried to run away, flashing an annoyed grin - an enraged snarl - at Zuko as he recovered, “Fuck off, I’m only gonna say it once. ”

The woman’s arm began to bruise, shifting into the same sickly colour that her swollen cheek was.

Zuko narrowed his eye - his fingers twitched for swords that he didn’t carry - and growled, “What were you doing to her?”

The man - wearing Fire Nation armour; don’t think of the implications, Zuko - grit his teeth in ill-hidden annoyance, “None of your Agni-damned business.” The man summoned a small - weak - flame and shot it at Zuko’s feet, “Now scram!”

Zuko’s eye flickered to the dagger on the man’s belt, and his mouth thinned in weary anticipation.

Zuko didn’t move away - the flame didn’t scare him; it was pitiful compared to Agni’s, to Father’s - but began to stalk forward, a haze of malevolent violet entering his vision, “ Let her go. ”

Zuko’s shadow quivered - in rage or glee, Zuko didn’t know, nor care - and wrapped sharpened fingers around the man’s ankles.

The man didn’t seem to feel the shadows beginning to consume him, instead pressing the woman further against the wall by her neck, snarling at the Dark Avatar, “Fancy yourself a hero?” He tilted his head up, a cruel smile gracing his lips as he stared at Zuko’s scar - the woman’s face was turning blue - “...Go ahead and try me, cur . Maybe I can go two for two, and make you fully blind- ”

The man’s voice cut off as Zuko shifted , quickly grabbing the man’s outstretched hand, and twisting it behind the man.

The man tried to punch out a flame, which Zuko easily snuffed out, before yanking the dagger out the man’s belt to hold it against his neck.

The alleyway stilled, and the woman’s laboured breaths became louder in volume as the man eased his other hand.

Zuko dug the dagger into the man’s neck, drawing blood, wordlessly commanding him to let go of the woman.

After a moment, the man did.

“Listen, asshole,” The man - not a soldier; The Fire Nation wouldn’t have allowed such a man into the military - growled as the woman ran away, “You’re only making trouble for yourself.”

The man tried to subtly form a dagger of flame in his other hand.

Emphasis on ‘tried’.

Zuko grit his teeth at the gall of the bandit - probably stole the armour; yes, that must be it! - and glared at the man’s flames until it flared into golden embers, causing the man to hiss as he dispelled the flames - his hand bearing minor burns - “Try that again, and my hand might slip .”

Zuko tilted the dagger for emphasis, digging into the skin. He felt the man gulp, before whispering, “ Fucking hell , what do you want?”

A lot of things, none of which this man could give him.

Zuko willed the errant thought away, and asked the question on the forefront of his mind, “Where did you get this armour?”

He heard the man’s intake of breath - it sounded vaguely like the man held back an anxious laugh - “Are you actually blind? What does it look like!”

Zuko held back from digging the dagger deeper - he’d rather not kill the man, despite it all - and hissed, “ Just answer the question! ”

“The barracks! Fucking standard issue !” The man sounded half-confused and half-terrified, “Why does it fucking matter?!”

“ Quiet, ” Zuko hissed as the man’s voice raised to a scream. He scanned down both the alley and the adjacent street for anyone who may have heard - there was none, as the sun had set - and to process the man’s answer.

Standard issue armour, from ‘the barracks’.

…This man wasn’t a bandit.

“ Why, ” Zuko ground out, using the last fringes of his self-control to keep himself from screaming, “ Were you harming that woman? ”

“What do you think? ” The man - the Fire Nation soldier - hissed out, “I wanted a good time.”

Zuko blinked, not understanding for one blessed moment, before remembering how, despite Uncle’s attempts at keeping him away from it, Zuko had overheard more than one lurid discussion amongst his former crew about… physical acts.

Compared to the terms used by his crew, ‘wanting a good time’ was rather tame.

It didn’t lessen the pit of disgust in Zuko’s gut.

Zuko breathed in - fire came from the breath - and breathed out, relishing in silence at the man’s wince of pain from the golden embers escaping his breath.

He could feel Vaatu’s slight concern at his uncharacteristic sadism.

He didn’t acknowledge it.

“...Are you going to kill me?” The soldier’s voice pierced the din of Zuko’s thoughts.

Zuko scowled, “No. I’m going to take you to your commanding officer for punishment.”

Which, last time Zuko had read of it, was supposed to be dishonourable discharge.

He didn’t expect the man to laugh.

“You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking,” The soldier snorted before Zuko could snap anything back, “ Agni above , you’re serious. Kid, you think the captain isn’t aware of this?”

The soldier - the blight against his Nation - barreled on, too focused on his dark humour to pay any mind to the shaking dagger at his neck, “It’s practically a rite of passage to bag an Earth Kingdom bitch. A port like this… it’s easy pickings .”

“ WHY?! ” Zuko roared, his simmering anger finally snapping into fiery rage - the blade at the soldier’s neck momentarily glowed white-hot, cauterising his wound - “ Why would you do that? ”

“It doesn’t fucking matter , kid,” The soldier grunted, beginning to kick out in an attempt to break free - the burning pain at his neck was drawing tears from his eyes - “They’re fucking worthless . Couldn’t sling dirt if it hit them in the eye,” He twisted a golden eye to the Dark Avatar, manic behind its desperate tears, “You saw it yourself, didn’t you? Fuckin’ needed some firebending runt to save her-”

Zuko heard enough, gripping the back of the man’s head, before slamming it against the wall.

Zuko heaved, stumbling back as the man dropped onto the ground, a trickle of blood split from the man’s forehead.

Zuko braced himself against the wall, and as the violet haze began to leave his vision, he retched onto the floor, gripping the stone wall hard enough to bruise his fingers.

It was the only thing that kept him upright.

It was only after several minutes that Zuko found the strength to speak, “...Vaatu…”

‘Yes, Zuko?’ Vaatu’s voice showed a touch of concern, though it was well-hidden behind a veneer of neutrality.

Zuko decided not to read into it, “Why…” Zuko shuddered, and his legs straightened enough for him to let go of the wall, “Why… Why would they do such a thing?”

Vaatu was silent as Zuko stared at the soldier - a soldier of his Nation; his subject - before answering in a careful tone, ‘War makes monsters of us all, my vessel,’ Vaatu paused, then continued, ‘You did good, stopping this man.’

Zuko shuddered once more, before slowly kneeling next to the man, reaching into his armour to check for a pulse - slow, but very much alive .

He wondered if he should let the man live.

Zuko shook his head, stepping away from the man - he had killed before - had been forced to - but he didn’t enjoy the act - as he whispered, “ I don’t know what to do… ”

He didn’t know how to stop this war.

He didn’t know how to stop these atrocities.

He didn’t know how to save his people.

He didn’t know how to be an Avatar.

He didn’t know how to change something that had a hundred years to sink in its roots.

His shadow glimmered at the edge of his vision - still visible despite the lack of light - and Zuko turned to see it pointing towards the edge of the adjacent street, where a pile of discarded items had been tossed.

With numb feet, Zuko rose, and followed the shadow, finding himself before the pile of garbage, only to see a glimmer of faded blue and white paint.

A mask.

Zuko reached out for the mask - and his shadow quivered - and raised it to his head - and his shadow raged - and carefully wrapped it around his head - and his shadow triumphed.

Zuko fell asleep, and the Blue Spirit awakened.

The Blue Spirit holstered its dagger, and crept back into the alley, hauling the unconscious man onto its shoulder.

Its grin - its snarl - promised a visit to a certain captain. Its teeth - ever sharp - promised retribution against a man who betrayed his duty.

…

Captain Jhen was always a light sleeper - a habit formed after the countless sleepless nights on the eastern front - and usually found himself waking up at least once every night.

It was an annoying habit, what with the lack of sun sapping any potential energy he could have, and his insomnia keeping him from falling back asleep. It made him thankful that he was now a captain, and he could unload his grievances upon his subordinates.

Usually verbally, though he never turned away from humiliating a man in a spar.

Captain Jhen wasn’t a very cautious man, though, or at least not as cautious as he used to be. After being promoted to captain overseeing this port, he had to worry much less about attacking earthbenders and more about the local pirates.

However, he actually found the pirates to be surprisingly receptive to his form of governance. So long as his soldiers ignored the pirates’ business, the pirates would ignore theirs.

It made for a working business relationship - not to mention being invited to certain ‘parties’ - and life at the port-side base had never been easier.

Though, the same couldn’t be said for the dirt people living at the port, but Jhen never claimed to care for them.

So Jhen was awake, even after three hours of the sun setting, and reading a scroll when he felt the chill in the air.

Jhen turned his head to glare at his window - he thought he’d had it shut - huffing to himself as he walked over to close the damned thing.

It wasn’t until he locked it that a dagger was pressed against his throat, with his hidden assailant seeming to have snuck up from behind.

How in the hell had he been snuck up on?

Before Jhen could call out for guards - guards who were probably as lax as he was, not that he would forgive them for it - a rough, bandaged hand pressed against his mouth, and a low growl emitted from behind, “Consider your choice wisely, Captain Jhen.” His attacker’s voice was cold, almost sibilant, “Call for help, and there won’t be anyone for them to find.”

Jhen slowly raised his hands in surrender, and his assailant removed his hand to allow him a moment to speak, “What do you want from me?”

“A guarantee,” The voice hissed - and the more he heard it, the less human it sounded - “ That you, and your soldiers, will no longer terrorise the people of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom at this port.”

Jhen fought back a scowl - great, his assailant was a do-gooder - and chanced his fate, if only to hear his assailant’s response, “And why should I do that?”

His assailant was silent for a moment, but before Jhen could smirk in victory, the dagger flashed away from under his chin, and pressed against the back of his neck, rippling chills across his skin.

He may have made this worse for himself.

Behind him, his assailant hissed once more - a dark, malevolent sound - “ Turn around. ”

Jhen gulped, and slowly turned, feeling the dagger lightly scraped clockwise around his neck before resting where it had been before, underneath his chin.

It was dark in his room, with only the candle at his desk casting light, yet he could see the silhouette of his assailant, specifically that of its face.

It seemed that the Blue Spirit wasn’t the myth he had thought it was.

And it had come for him.

“Look at me,” The Blue Spirit hissed, forcing Jhen’s eyes to stare into the spirit’s own - a faint violet glow radiated within the spirit’s right eye - “Make your vow. ”

Jhen’s breath came out in a shudder - the spirit’s grin seemed to grow at his terror - “I promise… I promise to no longer… terrorise the people of the port.”

The Blue Spirit tilted its head - the movement screamed danger in Jhen’s soul - “And what else?”

Jhen tried to turn away, and found that he couldn’t , “And that I will command my soldiers to do the same.”

“And should they disobey?” The Blue Spirit ‘asked’.

Jhen knew it was less of a question and more of a demand.

“Then they will be punished accordingly,” Jhen grit out, fighting against the urge to hurl flames or call for help or anything to get the spirit away, “I’ll do it. Just leave, please. ”

The Blue Spirit remained still for a moment longer - bearing empty eyes into Jhen’s own - before pushing Jhen away, “Keep your vow, Captain Jhen. If I must return, I will not be so… merciful.”

Jhen shuddered, closing his eyes for a small moment, only to open them to find himself alone in his room once more.

A second later, someone pounded on his door, causing Jhen to jump, “Captain! I have a report; it’s urgent!”

Jhen shook himself out of his lingering shock, snapping at the door, “What is it?”

His door slammed open - causing him to jump again - and one of the new privates - whose name he didn’t care to remember - snapped a quick salute, only to falter for a moment.

Jhen raised an eyebrow - he didn’t see or feel the small trail of blood from his neck - and snapped, “Well?”

“Ah, right!” The private straightened, “One of the soldiers was found a bit ago, tied upside one of the pirate ships…” The boy - couldn’t be older than 16 - blushed, “He was naked, sir.”

Jhen blinked in mild astonishment, and no small amount of rage, “Who did it? Tell me you have a name!”

The private perked up with wide eyes, “Well, we asked the locals that were there and…” The private winced, “They’re saying it was the Blue Spirit, sir.”

As quick as his anger came, Jhen felt it fade, only to be replaced with dread, “What did you say?”

“Er…” The private faltered, “T-the Blue Spirit.”

‘If I must return, I will not be so… merciful.’

Jhen shuddered, drawing a worried glance from the private. Shaking his head, Jhen stepped past the doorway, commanding the boy, “Lead me to the docks. I want to speak with whoever got himself tied up.”

And see what the hell he had done to incur the wrath of the spirits.

Because - Agni above - Jhen needed someone to blame for the living nightmare he had just lived through.

…

Senlin Village

“Tha’s only enough for one pound.”

Zuko narrowed his eye - there were a number of dark bags underneath - only barely managing to reign in his growl, “It’s worth three. ”

The merchant sniffed contemptuously, twirling a bronze coin along his wiry fingers, “Call it an outsider’s fee.” He smirked, revealing a missing tooth, glaring at Zuko’s singular eye, “Times are tough, and all that.”

Zuko’s eye flickered to the stacks of grain behind the man - enough to feed a small village for a week - and the embers in his eye smouldered further, “ Doesn’t seem like it. ”

“Well that’s how it is, ” The merchant shrugged, hiding Zuko’s payment within the sleeves of his robes, “Get lost, boy . I have better things to do than listening to an ashmaker. ”

Golden sparks danced along Zuko’s fingertips, and Vaatu swiftly clawed into Zuko’s thoughts, ‘Calm, Zuko. This man is not worth your wrath.’

Zuko snarled, throwing one last glare at the merchant as he swiped the bag of grain, ignoring the empty feeling in his stomach as it tried to eat itself.

He had thinned considerably over the past few weeks.

Zuko was always moving, from sunrise to sundown, only ever stopping to sleep, eat, and defecate. He never stayed at a town for longer than an afternoon, and the days walking through the wilderness blended together in a gruelling mass of famished strides.

Zuko had never before had to hunt for his own food - he had always been spoiled that way - and it showed, with Zuko only recently managing to trap his first deer-rabbit.

Though, even that was nothing more than a fluke, given how sickly the poor creature was.

Most of Zuko’s food was bought using the money he pilfered off of the soldier at the Pier Village. It wasn’t a lot - Fire Nation infantry didn’t get much pay - forcing Zuko to ration it out as he crept along Iroh’s trail, the last of it going to that damned merchant moments ago.

And Zuko was certain that the amount he paid would have gotten him thrice the amount of grain in any other village.

But, of course, Zuko was an ashmaker , so it wasn’t a major surprise that he would be hated by the people of the Earth Kingdom. Hell, he was the Prince of the Fire Nation , of course they would hate him! Even banished as he was, he was still the son of the Fire Lord.

For all the good it brought to his life.

And were they wrong? Was the merchant wrong to hate Zuko? To hate the Fire Nation? Zuko turned into an alley, shaking his head as thoughts flooded his mind. They were at war, they committed atrocities against each other, they killed each other’s sons and daughters.

Was the Fire Nation to blame for all of this? Supposedly spreading its wealth across the world, only to take advantage of an ‘Earth Kingdom bitch’, practically a rite of passage-

A veil of malevolent violet shimmered along Zuko’s vision, and he dropped the bag of grain, snarling as he punched the wall in confused rage.

This quickly turned to enraged pain.

Zuko stumbled back, cursing under his breath as he cradled bloody knuckles.

He still couldn’t think about what happened at the pier village without being consumed by an urge to punch something.

But at least he could say this rage was his own.

Vaatu hummed in Zuko’s mind, sounding unusually grim, ‘Punching a wall isn’t going to help you change anything.’

Zuko rolled his eye - Vaatu reminded Zuko terribly of Uncle sometimes - applying tiny flames to cauterise the wounds, “I could figure that out on my own, thanks.”

Vaatu remained silent for several moments, though Zuko could feel the spirit stewing in the back of his mind - as it had for the last several days - and sighed, “What is it?”

‘Are you…’ Vaatu paused, sounding unsure for the first time in Zuko’s memory, ‘Are you well, Zuko?’

Zuko furrowed his eyebrow, and asked in a low growl, “What do you mean?”

‘Your emotions are all over the place,’ Vaatu stated with a dry tone, ‘I’m not well-versed in human psychology, but even I can see that you’re struggling.’

“I’m fine ,” Zuko snarled, turning around, only to remember that Vaatu was in his head - Zuko’s shadow quivered - “ I’m perfectly fine! ”

‘Your shadow seems to disagree,’ Vaatu noted darkly, drawing Zuko’s attention to his shadow, which was rippling violently at the edges, ‘And I disagree as well.’

Zuko bared his teeth, “Forgive me if I don’t trust your judgement. I haven’t been given much reason to believe that any spirit has cared about me.”

Zuko’s shadow stilled, and the air around him chilled as he felt its presence manifest around him. Zuko closed his eye with a scowl, speaking not to Vaatu, but to the Blue Spirit, “I’m not going to talk to you.”

The figure before Zuko remained silent - a trait Zuko shared - before shimmering back into his shadow, somehow feeling more distant than before. After a moment, Vaatu rumbled, ‘It is not in a spirit’s nature to care for human emotions, nor is it to understand them. The trickster did not mean to anger you by taking your body as a host.’

Zuko scoffed, “But it did so anyways, it forced it. ” Zuko snarled, his anger rising at the fact that he couldn’t say it to Vaatu’s face, “It didn’t care if I wanted to do it or not, it only saw an opportunity. ”

Shadows wrapped around Zuko’s ankle - almost in a comforting gesture - and Zuko kicked it away as Vaatu murmured, ‘The Blue Spirit gave you its blessing, Zuko. You have been chosen to be its host in the mortal world when it calls upon you.’

Zuko’s eye widened, “ That’s the blessing?” The surprise in his eye quickly fell into narrowed rage, “That- that sounds more like a curse! ”

‘It can be,’ Vaatu agreed darkly, beginning to sound irritated, ‘But only if you make it so. If you can align your will with that of the trickster, you could become greater than the sum of your parts.’

“So you’re saying…” Zuko grit his teeth, biting back the urge to scream, “That all I had to do was simply agree to be the Blue Spirit’s host?”

Zuko didn’t wait for Vaatu to answer, as a cough slipped past his lips, blowing over into crazed laughter, “Well, I should’ve known! ” Zuko’s laughter cut off sharply with another punch to the wall - cracks splintered along the earthen structure - “It was rather obvious when it asked me - oh wait, it didn’t. ”

Zuko’s shadow began to quiver once more, almost looking regretful as it shrunk in size, and Vaatu rumbled in response, ‘You were not of clear mind when it happened, so the trickster decided to spare you the pain of that decision.’

Zuko’s voice was tired - from screaming, from laughing - as he deadpanned, “I stopped a woman from getting raped by one of my own countrymen. I think I’m allowed a moment to process that without any spirits trying to use me as a meat puppet. ” Zuko nursed his knuckles, not even bothering to wipe away the blood, “I probably would’ve been fine with it, had I been given the choice .”

Vaatu remained silent for several moments, and as Zuko picked up the bag of grain to go, he spoke up, ‘You will have to forgive us these transgressions, Zuko. It was not our intent to harm you.’

Zuko paused, raising an eyebrow, “...We’ll see.” He felt his shadow straighten out, the spirit within once more reaching his stride. Zuko narrowed his eye at Vaatu’s wording, “What do you mean ‘our’ ?”

‘I attempted to use you as a ‘meat puppet’, as you’ve called it,’ Vaatu replied in a neutral tone, ‘Back when we first met.’

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Zuko pursed his lips at Vaatu’s words, “That’s different. You…” Zuko shook his head, slinging the bag over his shoulder - and on the opposite side of his spear - as he stepped out of the alley, “Nevermind, we have places to be.”

Vaatu grumbled in the back of Zuko’s mind, but remained silent as they made their way towards the village’s exit. As they did so, Zuko watched as rows and rows of people haggled with the line of merchants, trading away clothes and jewellery for meagre amounts of grain.

The sight gave Zuko pause.

Zuko watched as the people - refugees, all of the Earth Kingdom - bartered and begged the merchants for supplies, of which there was no shortage. Yet - like with Zuko himself - the merchants offered nothing more than scraps.

“You think this crap is worth anythin’?” One merchant - a rich-looking man with golden earrings - sneered at family of five children, and their mother, throwing what looked to be a rusted locket at them, “I’d give you the dirt off my boot if it didn’t feed you, Omashu scum . ”

Zuko blinked in shock at the vitriol of the man’s words - directed to his own people - only to see another tradesman snatch a silver chain off a young man’s neck, “This is the only thing worth the grain.”

The young man - Zuko’s age, or younger - tried to reach for the locket, only for the tradesman to hold it above his head, prompting the young man to yell, “That was my father’s! ”

“We all have to make sacrifices, kid,” The tradesman - scum - trilled condescendingly, “Either it’s this, or you work off your debt.”

Zuko clenched a fist at the cruelty - they treated their own kin worse than they did Zuko - and moved forward to… do something - which involved yelling and fire - only for a cry to draw his attention, as a woman was slapped back by an ancient-looking vendor, “If you have nothing to barter, then scram! ”

The woman stumbled, and Zuko leaped forward, catching her before she fell. Zuko turned a glare at the vendor, causing the old man to stumble back in fear.

Golden flames puffed out of Zuko’s nostrils - drawing horrified comprehension on the old man’s face - only for a small - calloused - hand to grasp his arm, “Don’t.”

Zuko turned to face the woman, who kept her grip on his arm, before silently stepping away from the vendor, snatching the bag of grain off his table, “I believe this is yours.”

He handed it to the woman, despite the vendor’s weak protests that she didn’t have anything to purchase it with. Another glare silenced his objections. The woman smiled weakly at Zuko, “Thank you.”

Zuko averted his eyes - he didn’t deserve the woman’s thanks - causing her to sigh, “C’mon.” She tugged his arm, weaving through the crowds and out of the village, “We don’t need them looking at you like that.”

Zuko scrunched his eyebrow, only to realise that everyone was staring at him .

He had made a scene, after all.

Once again, their expression ranged from pity - on the refugee’s faces - to disgust - on those of the merchants - and Zuko found himself wanting nothing more than to flee.

The woman didn’t allow that, given the iron-grip she had on his wrist.

“You didn’t have to do that,” The woman began once they were several paces out of the village, “Why did you?”

Zuko scowled, wrenching his hand out of the woman’s grasp, “ Someone had to.” He turned back towards the village with a growl, “It’s crazy , what they were doing. You’re both Earth Kingdom!”

The woman snorted, muttering under he breath, “Not in their eyes. I followed the wrong king. ” She turned her eyes to the bag of grain in her hand, then to Zuko’s empty hands, “You dropped your grain.”

Zuko’s eye widened, and he massaged his brow, “...Of course I did.” He shook his head, ignoring the grumble of his stomach - which had the woman raise an eyebrow - “What do you mean ‘ wrong king ’?”

“Nevermind that,” The woman grunted, holding out the bag, “Take it. You need it more than me.”

Zuko growled, pushing away her hand, “I can manage without it.” His stomach rumbled once more, drawing a sigh from the woman and a blush from Zuko, “I need to get going anyways.”

“...How about this,” The woman raised the bag of grain, “My husband and I are squatting in a cave nearby. You can eat with us before you go.”

Zuko pursed his lips as he turned to the sky - it was nearing dusk - and crossed his arms with a huff, “...Fine.”

The woman smiled softly, “Follow me, then.”

Zuko followed the woman into the forest surrounding the village, trailing behind her in silence as the sun dipped below the horizon, drawing a yawn out of Zuko’s lips. The sound caused the woman to smirk, “Tired, are we?”

Zuko narrowed his eye at the woman - who, now that Zuko really looked at her, appeared only marginally older than himself - and grunted, “I’m fine.”

The woman hummed, her gaze somehow knowing as it watched Zuko’s eye. She turned back around, humming, “The name’s Ishi. What’s yours?”

Zuko pursed his lips, quickly deciding on a lie, “Lee.”

It worked once already, back at the Northern Water Tribe.

He might as well use it again.

The woman - Ishi - laughed softly to herself, “That’s curious.” She smiled at Zuko, though it looked vaguely melancholic, “That’s my husband’s name, too.”

Zuko held in a wince - he didn’t count on another Lee - but was able to choke out a response, “That's - er - interesting .”

Ishi hummed, leading Zuko to a clearing of trees surrounding a small cave in the centre. A tent had been set up by the entrance of the cave, offering some privacy for those who stayed in it.

A chitter brought Zuko’s attention to an ostrich-horse laying beside the tent, which rose as Ishi stepped forward to pet its neck, “Hello, Nina.”

The ostrich-horse chirped as it rubbed against Ishi, tapping its head against her shoulder. Zuko watched the byplay for a moment, feeling considerably awkward, and tried to grasp at something to say, “It has a name.”

Wow, Zuko, what remarkable insight.

Ishi smiled at Zuko’s attempt at conversation, “Lee named her; he’s rather fond of ostrich-horse racing.” She sighed, stepping away from the drowsy animal, “Not that he can do it, anymore.”

Zuko didn’t have anything to say to that - by her tone of voice, he imagined the war caught up to them - and Ishi turned her head, looking around, “Speaking of my dork of a husband, where is Lee?”

She yanked up the tent’s flap, only to find nobody within the cave, “He was supposed to be back here by now.” She began to stomp around the clearing, first calling his name out with a slightly raised voice, before rising to a shout, “LEE?!”

Zuko pressed a hand to his ear, hissing at the volume of Ishi’s scream. His other ear was burnt to hell. He stepped to her before she could scream Lee’s name again, asking, “When did you last see him?”

Ishi turned to him, her face betraying her distress, “He went off into the forest to forage, earlier today.” She pointed in the direction where Lee went, “He was supposed to be back here by sundown. I… I don’t think anything’s happened to him, but…”

Ishi didn’t need to finish for Zuko to understand her worry - he only had to recall the words ‘hot springs’ for a sense of dread to settle in his bones - and he pursed his lips for several moments before murmuring, “I’ll look for him.”

Ishi turned her eyes to Zuko, widening in surprise, “You will?”

Zuko nodded - his shadow seeming to nod even more vigorously - and remarked, with a touch of irony, “I’m good at tracking people.”

Ishi wrapped her arms around her stomach, watching the forest with pursed lips, “...Don’t get yourself hurt out there. I’ve heard that the spirits have become more active as of late, and they like to prowl at night.

Vaatu perked up Zuko’s mind at the woman’s words, but Zuko only smirked at his misfortune, “Just my luck.” He nodded to Ishi as he stepped into the forest, “I’ll get your husband back.”

…

It didn’t take long for Zuko to find Lee’s trail. Broken branches littered the ground as Zuko crept through the forest, the occasional slash marking nearby trees.

It seemed that Lee used a knife to keep himself from getting lost.

Smart.

Yet, this didn’t cheer Zuko much. One would think that Lee would have returned, since he shouldn’t have gotten lost. Yet, the trail continued deeper into the forest, the spaces between slash marks becoming greater with every pass.

Vaatu chattered in Zuko’s mind as he trotted along the trail, his tone both mystified and cautious, ‘It seems your friend was correct in her warning. I feel the residues of many a spirit in these woods.’

Zuko grunted in response, not finding it in himself to reply with words, only to pause as his foot skidded on the ground, as the deadfall and leaves turned to ash beneath his feet.

Zuko pushed through the wall of trees before him, coming face to face with a valley of ash. The wasteland stretched along the horizon, its hue of grey sucking all light out of the air, even that of the moon’s glow.

Veins of sickly green sprouted out of the ashen hills, oozing onto the ash before seeping back into the earth. As Zuko stepped into the wasteland, he felt a million eyes latch onto him, drawing a shiver up his spine.

‘I will show you fear, in a handful of dust.’

Zuko stepped back, eye widening at the hiss of the ash around him, gone with the wind.

It’s whisper told tales of dead and dying lands.

Vaatu seemed particularly perturbed by their surroundings, rising up in Zuko’s mind, ‘This presence, it is unnatural.’ Bubbles of viscous green popped along the waste land, slowly eating away at the ash until only a void remained, ‘It feels like the Mother of Faces, but… it is warped, defiled, twisted…’

Vaatu trailed off, radiating with such pure horror that Zuko nearly stumbled. The ash around them shifted, as spirits fled the wastes, cascading into the forest in a desperate bid to outrun the stench of decay .

‘No…’ Vaatu gasped, reeling back with a suddenness that did make Zuko stumble, ‘I thought it had perished. Raava and I… We killed it…’

Clouds of ash burst from the hill before Zuko, as a singular eye of acidic green rose up to face Zuko, spiralling with such malevolent hunger that Zuko began to go nauseous.

‘The Great Spirit of Decay, The World-Borer…’ Vaatu’s tone was almost fearful , as tendrils of viscous green rose into the air, ‘It lives…’

Zuko readied his spear, its tip catching flame as ripples of decay surged towards him. Zuko stood his ground, grit his teeth, and struck at the veins as they neared him.

The creature screeched - a haunting sound - as golden flames surged forth, burning its limbs. The monster readied another attack, only for a flash of light to blind Zuko, as it was blasted into oblivion in a beam of glowing energy.

Zuko narrowed his eye, unwilling to turn away even as he was blinded by the light. He watched as the glowing green eye withered away, the tendrils of decay seeping back into the ash, and out of the wasteland.

There was naught a speck of green left in the valley of ash.

Zuko closed his eye in momentary relief - a feeling echoed by Vaatu - only to snap them open as the source of the light stepped forth, casting ash into the air with every step.

The figure was a dark smudge against the moonlight, its fur absorbing its light akin to a flower. Zuko readied his spear once more as the towering creature ambled towards him, wisps of light escaping its maw.

It didn’t seem hostile, but it banished the decay with a single blast.

Zuko was not so foolish as to ignore its power.

So Zuko stood, remaining wary as the creature drew closer, revealing itself to be some sort of black-and-white bear.

Zuko had never seen anything like it before.

However, while Zuko was unable to identify what the creature was - other than the fact that it dwarfed him - Vaatu seemed to recognise it, ‘A spirit, and based on its aura, an Arch-Spirit…’

Zuko’s mouth thinned as the bear spirit extended its snout, sniffing the air around him in apparent boredom - though, it was hard to tell, with the fur covering its eyes - “Is it going to attack us?”

‘It does not seem so,’ Vaatu mused as the spirit brought its nose uncomfortably close to Zuko’s scar - he only stood still out of well-found caution of the volatility of spirits . After a moment, the spirit seemed satisfied by whatever it sensed, as it crooned a low note to Zuko, prompting Vaatu to chime, ‘How curious…’

Zuko grit his teeth, his annoyance rising in tandem with exhaustion - the sun had set long ago - “Care to share?”

Vaatu huffed, ‘Patience, Zuko. Hei Bai has yet to finish.’ Zuko crossed his arms as the bear spirit - Hei Bai, apparently - circled him, occasionally spitting onto the ash in between harmonic trills.

Zuko’s eye widened when the ash formed together into tiny bamboo saplings, shining with the life of the spirit’s spit.

His attention returned to Hei Bai once it turned silent, prompting Vaatu to hum, ‘That is… vaguely worrying.’ Zuko’s eye twitched, and Vaatu received the hint to elaborate, ‘...I had hoped to be mistaken, but it seems that the World-Borer lives once more.’

Zuko hissed, “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

‘Right,’ Vaatu’s tone was surprisingly thick, as if he was genuinely disturbed by his thoughts, ‘I had forgotten… We vanquished it before humanity sprouted from its seeds. You would not know of its terror.’

Zuko’s face was turning grim - if even Vaatu referred to this ‘World-Borer’ with such dread, then it must be terrifying indeed - and he asked, “What is its name?”

Vaatu remained silent for several moments, before uttering in a low, hateful tone, ‘Father Glowworm. Truly the most miserable being I have ever known.’ Vaatu growled inside of Zuko’s mind, sounding eerily like his own rage, ‘It seems as though it clawed its way back to power, over the millennia of my imprisonment.’

Zuko strapped the spear onto his back, frowning at Hei Bai’s back as it slowly trotted away from him, “It seemed like Hei Bai dealt with…” Zuko’s face became pinched, “ Father Glowworm. ”

It was an ugly name.

Somehow, Vaatu sounded even more grim, ‘That was merely one of its million eyes.’

Hei Bai turned around, crooning a low note at Zuko before resuming its trot. Vaatu hummed, ‘It seems as though another of the World-Borer’s eyes are nearby; Hei Bai wishes to lead you to it.’

Zuko grunted, stepping through the ash and bamboo to follow the Arch-Spirit. As he followed, Zuko’s surroundings became less desolate, as small trees and creatures grew amidst the ruins, recovering the forest to what it once was.

Despite the solemn nature of the sight, it was terribly beautiful.

Finally, they reached what seemed to be a shrine dedicated to Hei Bai, which was surrounded by tall stalks of bamboo that nearly blotted out of the moon.

The Arch-Spirit spit upon the bamboo, causing it to rise another metre, before turning to the shrine, and the figure grasping its foot, as if holding on for dear life.

Zuko’s eye widened when he saw that the figure was a shivering man.

Zuko stepped forward as Hei Bai breathed onto the man, temporarily ceasing his tremors, only for them to worsen. Vaatu remained grimly silent as Zuko approached the man, crouching down to check him for external injuries - there were none - “Are you… Lee?”

The man remained silent, violently shivering despite the unnaturally warm air. Zuko began to grow worried, and tapped the man’s shoulder, “Can you hear me?”

With an audible snap , the man’s eyes opened, the right coloured a terrified amber, and the left glowing a malevolent green.

The same as that of the World-Borer.

Zuko heard Vaatu hiss in his mind - or was it Zuko hissing? - causing him to whisper, “Is there anything we can do?”

It wasn’t Vaatu who answered, but Hei Bai , as the Arch-Spirit nudged Zuko’s arm with its snout, a musical trill emanating from its form.

While no words were exchanged, Zuko half-understood the spirit’s request, and asked Vaatu, “Did you hear it too?”

‘I heard the spirit’s song, yes,’ Vaatu replied, sounding as if his thoughts were distant, ‘It wishes to use you as a host to heal this man.’

Zuko’s lips thinned as Vaatu’s words confirmed Zuko’s suspicions. He felt a moment of hesitation at the thought of becoming a host once more - having raged about the previous experience mere hours before - but a single glance at the man’s suffering strengthened Zuko’s resolve, and he nodded to Hei Bai, “What do I need to do?”

Vaatu was momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered as Hei Bai began to hum, and recited the spirit’s song, ‘Reflect upon the beauty of nature. Reflect upon the cycle of Life and Death. Every season, every element has its place. You are but one tree amongst a sprawling forest, and from your roots, must life flow forth.’

Zuko closed his eye, forcing Vaatu’s words into his mind. He focused on the beauty of nature, which was never something he gave much thought, but thinking about nature wasn’t the requirement, he had to reflect-

‘Zuko, focus!’

Zuko grit his teeth, feeling the inklings of a connection form in his soul. He turned his thoughts to turtle-ducks, to the pond his mother loved so much, and that love fell to him. They were simple creatures, but that made them lovely. They lived simple, but meaningful lives, taking care of their family, raising new generations before they grew old and died.

Zuko bawled his eyes out when the old mama turtle-duck passed away.

He was seven. It was his first true experience with death. Father burnt his wrist to stop the tears; a lesson in control-

Zuko shook his head, turning his thoughts back to his mother, and how she buried the mama turtle-duck in the ground. She called it the cycle of life, as the turtle-duck’s body would decompose and give back to the earth from whence all beings came.

Azula had wrinkled her nose at the thought of originating from an inferior element.

But it was the truth, wasn’t it? A tree took root in the Earth, and grew from the light of the sun. A tree grew strong from the nutrients in Water. A tree reproduced with seeds carried by Air. A tree died by Fire, and becomes the ash that fertilises future generations of life.

A man uses Earth for shelter and food. A man uses Water for drinking and health. A man uses Air for vitality and movement. A man uses Fire for warmth and prosperity.

It was the cycle of nature. Everything had its place. It was a balance of opposites, rising in life, and falling in death.

Yin and Yang.

Order and Chaos.

Nature and Decay.

Zuko opened his eye, and in a haze of violet, reached for the man’s face.

Luminescent green veins marred the man’s cheek, and with a melodic hum, Zuko raised a hand, pulling the plague out of the man’s blood.

The eye of decay spasmed in the man’s skull.

It knew the end was near.

Zuko felt inside of the man’s veins, methodically plucking the sickness by its roots - like a parasitic weed - puffing away the trickles of green blood into ashes, watching as they fell, and grew into stalks of bamboo.

The singular eye - one of a million - pierced Zuko’s merged soul, casting such malevolent hunger that he nearly faltered. Nearly. With a flick of his wrist, the eye was yanked out of the man’s skull, and thrown onto the ground.

Before the lowly creature could recover, the Dark Avatar stood, and with a breath of monochromatic flame, melted the damned thing until only glass remained.

The Dark Avatar stood triumphant, and turned back to the man, who scrambled back in fear.

The man’s left eye-socket was bleeding out.

The Dark Avatar tilted his head - why did the man fear him so? - stepping closer to kneel next to the man, and spat on the ground. He mixed his saliva with the dirt, made mud, and applied the paste to the man’s bleeding eye socket.

The man stilled, then began to weep from his remaining eye, as the wound was fully healed, and the Dark Avatar stood back, allowing the man a moment of relief.

That moment passed, and Hei Bai spoke, using Zuko’s voice to declare unto the man, “You prayed for my aid, and I answered your call.” Zuko held out a fist, unfurling it to reveal an acorn, “You are to go forth, and in every village you pass, you shall plant this seed, and it shall grow to a mighty vine, with every branch giving the fruit of life.”

The man accepted the seed - the obligation - in a shocked stupor, and stammered out, “I- I would be honoured, Great Spirit.”

Hei Bai smiled - though, Zuko’s lips seemed more like a snarl - and replied, “Farewell.”

And as Zuko closed his eye, Hei Bai wisped away, tending once more to its forest.

At once, Zuko opened his eye, and collapsed onto the ground - the violet hue receding from his vision. A pair of arms wrapped around his torso, as the man tried to help him up. Zuko waved the man away, tiredly pulling himself onto his feet.

Zuko was exhausted , far more than before - he could vaguely hear Vaatu muttering something about overtaxing himself - and almost missed the man’s worried glance, “Are you alright?”

Zuko rubbed away the crust from his eye - how late was it? - finding himself unable to not snark back, “What about you? You had a parasite in your eye!”

Zuko regretted his words almost immediately - a new record, Zuzu - as he faced the man for the first time after the ordeal, only to see that the parasite wasn’t in the man’s eye, but rather was the man’s eye itself.

The man reached up to poke the now eye-less half of his face, “Oh yeah, forgot about that.” He turned back to Zuko, apparently ignorant to the horror on his face - he simply forgot about losing an eye?! - “Do you think I’d look good with an eyepatch?”

Zuko closed his eye, and breathed in - ‘firebending comes from the breath, nephew’ - pinched his nose to stave off the coming migraine - unsuccessful - and breathed out, “...Are you Lee?”

The man raised a mildly bemused eyebrow - his apparent humour nearly hid the bags underneath his eyes - and hummed, “Yeah, but there’s a million Lee’s. Are you sure I’m the one you’re looking for?”

Zuko growled - he was not in the mood for jokes - and stalked past Lee, “Ishi is worried about you.”

Lee’s eyes widened - confirming that he was, indeed, the Lee - and he yelped,“Oh shit!” He tried to scramble after Zuko, only to stumble as his legs gave out.

Zuko whirled around in alarm, only to see that Lee was, thankfully, not sporting a broken ankle. Instead, it seemed like Lee was simply exhausted , much like Zuko himself. Given how worryingly thin the man was, Zuko couldn’t imagine that he had much energy.

Lee was considerably thinner than Ishi, nearing Zuko’s level of malnutrition.

Lee growled at his own weakness, his amber eye lighting up as he tried to push himself up. Zuko huffed, crouching down to wrap his arms around Lee’s arm and leg in a firebender’s carry.

The one advantage of Lee’s thinness was that he was lighter than most.

Zuko ignored Lee’s squawk of outrage, and began to march back from where he came. It wasn’t long before his back started to ache, and his legs followed soon after, but Zuko had done far more rigorous exercise in far worse conditions.

He would get this man back to his wife.

He made that promise.

Zuko’s face was drenched in sweat by the time he made it to the forest, but he continued onward. It wasn’t long before Lee succumbed to exhaustion and passed out, prompting Vaatu to speak up in Zuko’s mind, ‘Every day, I find myself impressed in new ways by your tenacity.’

Zuko didn’t respond - didn’t have the energy to respond - his vision narrowing on a singular point as he neared camp. Vaatu spoke up once more, his voice sounding softer in a way that was unusual, ‘Despite the stress of the situation, you adapted to it admirably.’

Zuko reached the clearing, drawing a gasp from Ishi. Zuko’s vision began to blur, and Vaatu rumbled, ‘I could not have chosen a better vessel to place my faith in.’ Zuko set Lee down into Ishi’s arms, and he swayed on his feet, ‘I am proud of you, Zuko.’

Zuko fell unconscious, and the last noise he heard was the woman’s startled yelp.

…

The first thing Zuko sensed was the smell of broth - with none of Zuko’s preferred spice - which was quickly followed by the sound of hushed voices - a man and a woman - whispering in worried tones.

Zuko shifted as his eye began to open, the darkness of the cave blurring his vision. The voices ceased at his movement, as the man and the woman both crouched next to him, helping him sit up.

Zuko’s eye adjusted to the dim light of the cave, only illuminated by the small fire near its entrance. His eye flickered to Ishi as she smiled at him, somehow looking more exhausted than he felt, “Are you feeling alright?”

Zuko pursed his lips, and grunted, “I’m fine.” He turned away from the woman as she inspected him - reminding him terribly of his mother - watching as the man - Lee - poured some of the broth into a teacup, “I was just tired.”

“I can imagine,” Lee cut in with a yawn, placing the cup of broth into Zuko’s hands, “Anyone would be tired after carrying my sorry ass for a mile.”

Ishi waved her husband off once he offered Zuko a spoon to eat with, “Don’t mind him. His pride’s just hurt because he had to be carried.” Ishi sighed, leaning back as she regarded Zuko with surprisingly warm eyes, “I’m just glad you both came back all right.”

It struck Zuko how… how young Ishi looked, compared to how she spoke. In the fire’s light, he could see that she must be only a few years older than Zuko herself, but with how she carried herself, it almost seemed like she lived for twice that time.

Lee sat down across from them, interrupting Zuko’s thoughts as he placed down a rusted tea set, “I get my wife is a looker, but I’d recommend drinking your broth before it gets cold.”

Zuko hoped his blush went unseen in the dim lighting, though by the stretch of Lee’s grin, Zuko doubted his luck.

Ishi scowled and slapped her husbands arm, “Oh, hush!”

Lee grinned, which only highlighted his missing eye in a rather morbid fashion, “Yes, my lady.”

Ishi huffed before getting up, “You’re impossible.” Her words heald no true ire, as she leaned down to kiss Lee’s cheek, “I’ll be outside.”

Lee smiled softly as the woman left the cave, leaving him alone with Zuko. They sat in silence for a few moments before Lee turned a raised eyebrow to him, “I was serious, you know, about the broth.”

Zuko brought the cup to his lips, drinking the lukewarm soup with minute sips - his stomach constricted in hunger - and watched the man as he drank from his own teacup.

Zuko had to wonder why they were drinking broth out of teacups.

Uncle would have had conniptions at the thought of using them for anything other than tea.

Lee seemed to catch where Zuko was looking, as he gave a sheepish smile, “Some habits die hard, and tea is rare in these parts.” He took another sip of the broth, his eye watching Zuko in faint curiosity, “Ishi tells me your name is Lee?”

Zuko paused, holding the cup to his lips - he had forgotten about that lie - and carefully set it down, “Yes…”

Lee nodded to himself - an unusually solemn gesture for the man - before setting aside his teacup, murmuring almost in passing, “Were you Army, or Navy?”

Zuko nearly choked on his tea - broth; it tastes nothing like tea, Zuko! - his eye latching onto the man, both of them regarding the other.

This man knew. He knew Zuko was Fire Nation. He knew Zuko served.

How? How did he know this?

Lee cut off Zuko’s panicked thoughts with a huff, having turned to face the wall besides Zuko, his eye focusing on something far away, “...I was in the Army myself. There wasn’t much else a colony brat like me could do, but it paid well enough, I suppose.”

He flashed a melancholic smile at Zuko, which aged the man by a decade, “I must’ve been your age when I joined. Went through basic training for two seasons, then sent to the southern theatre. They wanted us out there quick, since there was some sort of attack they were planning.” Lee shook his head, giving a hollow laugh that chilled Zuko to the bone, “Should’ve known what was coming then, but I was excited for the glory of battle.” His smile dropped, and his eye drooped to the stone floor, “We all were… We were all blind. ”

Zuko felt a pit of dread settle in his stomach as Lee’s eye drifted out of focus, glazed in a way that he had only seen once before with Uncle, back in those first months after his return from the front.

In the first few months after Lu-Ten’s death.

Lee shook his head, “Agni, the oldest of us must’ve been, what, nineteen? ” He huffed a laugh, and a tear trickled down his cheek, “Jhu-Ty was the old man of the group, was one of the few who’d been laid .” His voice held a note of reverence, as juvenile as it was, “He was a weird fucker, but, gods, he could play the bagpipes like you wouldn’t believe. ”

Lee leaned forward, his eye bearing a nostalgic gleam at odds with his solemn tone, “Have you ever tried bagpipes?”

“No…” Zuko murmured in a quiet voice, though he added, “I used to play the Tsungi Horn.”

Lee nodded, “A respectable choice. Ichtak preferred it as well.” Lee rubbed his chin in thought, leaning back from Zuko, “I swear that guy was a Waterbender. He always knew where the nearest rivers were…”

Lee trailed off, but Zuko knew the story had no happy ending. There was a reason why Lee referred to them all in the past tense. Though he had a feeling he knew, Zuko asked the man, all the same, “What happened?”

The man gazed away from Zuko for several moments, before uttering in a low, dead tone, “We were bait. A division of new recruits…” He scoffed, muttering with a grim sense of humour, “It’s obvious in hindsight.”

What better to use as bait than fresh meat?

Zuko felt sick to his stomach, threatening to send the broth right back out of his mouth.

Zuko held back the urge to vomit, grasping the cold stone of the cave as Lee murmured, almost to himself, “I honestly don’t know how I survived. I almost wish…” Lee cut off the thought with a shudder, facing the cave’s entrance for a moment before turning back, “It doesn’t matter. We fought. We lost. I got captured.”

Zuko had read the scroll detailing the results of this very battle already - sent to him directly by his Father; the only correspondence between them during Zuko’s banishment - but hearing it from one who lived through it was far worse than merely reading it.

Before him lived another reminder of the war’s toll on his very nation.

Lee stared sightlessly at the wall of the cave, “I’d hoped that I wasn’t the only one… That there was someone else who survived…” He blew out a breath, sounding faraway, “There wasn’t.”

Zuko sat in silence for several moments, processing the man’s grief for his own.

Zuko wondered how often Lee talked about his past.

Zuko wondered if Lee ever talked about it at all.

He would have thought that Lee would have shared this with his wife, but… something about the man’s words seemed raw , as if it was an unhealed wound.

But then, why did the man choose to share his troubles with Zuko?

‘A hog-monkey will hold its fruit close to its chest when faced with a spider-monkey, but with another hog-monkey, it will share its fruit.’

Zuko hadn’t understood Uncle’s proverb - as per usual - and yelled at him to explain it in clearer terms.

Uncle had sighed, and told Zuko that people were more inclined to share their story with those they identified with. He called it ‘empathy’ - a word Zuko had heard few times before, and always associated with the idea of weakness.

Uncle showed Zuko how empathy could be turned into a strength, using it to softly pry information out of a local barkeep for a rumoured scroll belonging to a previous Avatar.

But Zuko didn’t find himself wanting to pry information out of this man. The idea of it seemed… cruel , in a way that he hadn’t cared about in the past.

Back when the only thing that mattered was the Avatar’s capture.

But Uncle taught another lesson to Zuko, if only in passing, which was that people often desired to share their stories, especially if they held it close to their heart.

So, Zuko sat, and didn’t interrupt, allowing Lee to reminisce about lost friends. Perhaps it wasted time, and maybe it was meaningless, but if it helped the man move on… then Zuko was willing to wait, and listen.

Grief was no stranger to him, after all.

Finally, after a minute of silence, Lee sighed, and shook his head, “Sorry for that.” He flashed a small - fake - smile at Zuko, “I didn’t mean to be so depressing.”

Zuko blinked slowly, “It happens.” He wouldn’t say ‘it’s fine’ - nothing about the man’s story was ‘fine’ - but he knew what it was like to drown in sorrow. Zuko coughed into his hand, “How did you escape?”

This time, Lee’s smile was somewhat more genuine, “I have Nina to thank for that.”

Zuko raised a mildly incredulous eyebrow, “The ostrich-horse?”

“You’d be surprised,” Lee murmured, almost smugly , “People usually don’t think much of them as capable of anything other than running and shitting. And - well… admittedly, there was a good amount of running and shitting involved.” Lee’s face became somewhat pinched at the memory, “Not to mention the boat-load of luck that made it work, but I got out.”

Zuko couldn’t help but think back to the Avatar and scowl. Despite no longer wishing to turn the Avatar to his Father - or wanting anything to do with the Avatar, really - he wouldn’t mind getting back at the kid for some of the, frankly, ridiculous stunts he pulled off to escape Zuko’s grasp.

It struck at his pride.

Zuko noticed that Lee was eyeing his scowl with a mildly confused look, and waved him off, “Nevermind. I’m just thinking of something else.” He nodded at Lee, “You’re free to continue.”

Lee huffed, “Well, there’s not much more to say.” His eye seemed brighter than it was before - clearer - “Wandered for a while, met Ishi, fell in love, married, watched Omashu fall… All standard fare.”

Lee’s tone was obviously meant to seem cheerful - and it mostly was - but it dropped off at the end. He pursed his lips for a few moments before lightly shaking his head, picking up his teacup as he turned to Zuko, “...You don’t have to tell me your story if you don’t want to.”

Zuko twitched - he had nearly forgotten about the question at the start of this - and remained silent for a few moments, before murmuring out, “...I was in the Navy.”

Lee’s hand paused, keeping the teacup on his lips, before resuming motion with a light hum.

Zuko trailed a finger along the smoothed burns of his arm - neither Ishi or Lee had made any comment on them - and considered his words, and if he wanted to even give any more than he already had.

He almost denied himself out of principle - the idea of telling someone else of his life-story, even a watered down version, always appalled him - and he wasn’t particularly fond of the idea, either.

So why was he still considering it?

These people… Ishi and Lee, they watched over his unconscious body at the expense of their own comfort, without having any obligation to do so. They shared food with him, even when they were hungry themselves, and were nothing but kind.

Despite the fact that Ishi very likely saw the flames out of Zuko’s mouth.

Despite the fact that Lee was betrayed by Zuko’s nation.

Despite the fact that their old home was conquered by Zuko’s people.

Zuko had no real reason to share, but something in him felt… comfortable in their presence, in a way he hadn’t felt since Uncle.

Vaatu’s silent companionship was appreciated - jarring as it was - but it wasn’t a replacement for flesh and blood.

Zuko once more thought back to Uncle’s proverb about hog-monkeys, and let out a tired huff at his realisation.

Zuko was being hog-monkeyed.

‘That,’ Vaatu chimed, with an undercurrent of humour, ‘Is a particularly unique way of looking at things.’

Zuko ignored the dark spirit, impulsive continuing his - heavily edited - story, “I was pursuing something, I had been for years.” Zuko crossed his arms, spinning his words in such a way that would be telling the truth, if in an unhelpfully vague way - Azula would almost be impressed - “I found it, but wasn’t able to keep it. After that, someone else wanted it as well, just to spite me.”

Lee raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued, “What was their name?”

Zuko considered for a moment whether revealing Zhao’s name would clue Lee in to who he was, but dismissed the thought.

It wasn’t as if a random ex-soldier would have heard of Zhao, specifically.

Apparently, Zuko was incorrect, as Lee coughed into his (cold) broth when Zuko shared the name, “Captain Zhao?! ”

Zuko briefly considered correcting Lee - Zhao had become Admiral, much to Zuko’s bafflement and ire - and quickly disregarded it, instead asking, “You know him?”

Lee spat out the last remains of broth, “Never met him personally - thank Agni - but I’ve certainly heard of him.” He leaned forward, wide-eyed, “Was he as bad as everyone says?”

Zuko snorted, crossing his arms, “He was worse .”

Lee shook his head with an exaggerated shiver, “Figured. Being that well known is either a very good thing-”

“-Or a very bad thing,” Zuko finished with a frown, knowing this lesson rather well after the last several years.

Notoriety was a double-edged sword, and Zuko learned this firsthand upon finding his face plastered in every colony town he passed, used both as propaganda and a warning to the inhabitants.

Zuko scowled at the reminder - the humiliation - and forcibly shook his head, “Anyways. Zhao tried to have me assassinated, and was eaten by the ocean a few days later.”

Zuko realised that he had, perhaps, said a bit too much after the fact, and was proven correct when Lee sputtered, “You were assassinated? ”

Zuko glowered at Lee, before muttering, “...Didn’t work.”

Lee shook his head, “But why would he do that? You’re not old enough to have been…” He trailed off, suddenly staring at Zuko’s scar with an intensity that unnerved him.

Lee’s eye widened, as a horrified sense of understanding dawned on his face, “My pri-”

His words abruptly cut off, as he noticed Zuko’s panicked grimace, and he coughed into his hand, “...At least the captain is dead now?”

Lee’s words trailed off in a way that made it seem like a question - though, Zuko thought the answer would be rather obvious; one didn’t simply get eaten by the ocean and survive - but Zuko accepted the turn in conversation by nodding, “Yeah…”

Zuko didn’t say anything more - since he obviously couldn’t be trusted with his words - and Lee regarded the banished prince for several seconds before shaking his head, “Not to call it a competition, but you have me beat in depressing backstories.”

Zuko’s eye narrowed, “ Hey! ” He stood up, growling at Lee’s self-assured smirk, “My life’s not depressing! ”

“Well, at least you have spirit,” Lee chuckled, sipping the last of his broth before standing up as well, “It makes me feel somewhat better about what we’re doing.”

Zuko’s question - or accusation, depending on one’s point-of-view - was cut off by Ishi’s voice, “Are you both done?”

“Yeah,” Lee sighed, suddenly seeming melancholic, “You can bring her in.”

Zuko turned to see Ishi step into the cave, holding a lead to Nina’s beak, “Are you both alright? I heard yelling.”

“Nah, that’s just Lee ,” Lee’s emphasis on Zuko’s fake name made it clear that he was making fun of him. He ignored Zuko’s sputtered anger, kissing Ishi on the cheek before taking the lead for himself.

Zuko’s eye widened when Lee brought the lead to him , and he took a step back, shocked, “What?”

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you? Going of to distant lands ,” Lee waved a hand, almost seeming whimsical, if it wasn’t for the sadness in his eye, “You’ll need a mount if you want to make good distance.”

Zuko pursed his lips, “I… Yeah, but… she’s your ostrich-horse.” His eye narrowed, switching to Ishi’s soft smile, and back to Lee’s melancholic smirk, “If this is meant to be… payment , you don’t owe me anything.”

“We pay back kindness,” Ishi stated, a stubborn glint entering her eyes, “It’s the right thing to do.”

Zuko snarled, “You obviously need it more than I do!” He waved an agitated hand, “You can sell it for food! Or anything else! I don’t have anything to pay you back with.”

“Yes, you do,” Lee interrupted, thrusting the lead into Zuko’s thoroughly unwilling hands, “The folks in town can offer grain for her, but they’ll only see her as a bartering tool. You, on the other hand,” Lee offered a small smile, “Well, I can rest assured that you’ll treat her well enough.”

Zuko grit his teeth, “How do you know? ”

“You’re an honourable sort,” Lee shrugged, seemingly uncaring - though, the canny glint in his eye told otherwise - “And she’s dead useful. Smart, too.”

Zuko regarded the man for several moments, only to sigh in defeat, “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”

Lee chuckled, “I may be a Child of Fire, but I’ve learned the lessons of Earth.” He shared a smile with his wife before turning back to Zuko, “I’m not budging on this.”

Zuko sighed, watching Nina as she absently pecked at the wall, “...Thank you.”

Zuko led the ostrich-horse out of the cave, allowing him to (clumsily) hop onto its back. He turned back one final time to Lee and Ishi, and after exchanging a wave, kicked Nina into a trot, heading east.

As Zuko neared the edge of Senlin Village - where Earth Kingdom people spat upon Earth Kingdom people; where Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation married - he couldn’t help but whisper to himself, “ What does it all mean? ”

‘Only you can answer that for yourself,’ Vaatu chimed within Zuko’s mind, sounding particularly solemn, ‘It would be unfair to you, and to myself, to dictate your beliefs on this matter.’

Zuko scowled - somehow, it felt less natural than just a month before - “You haven’t hesitated with that before.”

Surprisingly - at least to Zuko - Vaatu was momentarily struck silent, though his voice eventually returned in a slow rumble, ‘While we are now one, we remain two separate consciousness.’ It almost seemed as though Vaatu sighed within Zuko’s head, ‘We… are not the same, and that is acceptable. I am here to give guidance, but you must find your own path forwards.’

Zuko pursed his lips, halting Nina on a hill overlooking the village. Once more, Vaatu reminded Zuko terribly of his Uncle, and such thoughts only deepened the pit of dread in his stomach.

There hadn’t been a trace of him, not for a while.

Would Zuko be able to find Uncle before he returned to the Fire Nation?

…Would Uncle even accept Zuko, after countless failures?

Zuko shook his head - those were bad thoughts - but he was unable to shake the doubt in his heart.

He was unable to shake the idea of it already being too late.

Eventually, Zuko closed his eye, and murmured, “...Then guide me, Vaatu. Where should I go?”

Vaatu perked up within Zuko’s mind, ‘...You no longer wish to follow your uncle’s trail?’

Zuko’s grip of the lead tightened, “There hasn’t been a sign of him for weeks… He’s probably back home by now. We’re close enough for him to have gotten passage.”

Zuko ignored how he still instinctually called the Fire Nation his home.

He was allowed this small weakness, even if he knew there was no home for him anymore.

Vaatu hummed in agreement, ‘Perhaps so… In that case, you may wish to redirect your energy towards learning the other elements.’

Zuko grit his teeth - he had, admittedly, been putting off the idea - and harshly asked, “ How? How am I supposed to do that in a timely manner?”

‘Go east, Zuko, and you will find a way,’ Vaatu’s tone, somehow, reassured Zuko. There wasn’t any false hope in the dark spirit’s voice, but there was a silent belief that resonated with him, ‘I sense a gathering of spiritual energy not far from here. It is there that you will find your answer.’

Zuko nodded to himself, “...I’ll go. But first…” He turned back to Senlin Village, and his shadow stretched as a mask burned within his satchel, “I have to make things right.”

Vaatu hummed, and Zuko’s shadow smiled , ‘Then go, vessel of mine, and use this as an opportunity.’ Zuko tied Nina’s lead to a tree, and pulled out the mask, ‘Remember the lessons of Earth, and become as Unyielding as the Mountain.’ Zuko wrapped the mask around his face, and his shadow smothered his form, then merged , ‘Become as Merciless as the Desert, my Dark Avatar.’

The Blue Spirit smiled , and disappeared within the shadowed walls of Senlin Village.

And over the course of an hour, greedy merchants found their illicit riches depleted, and their stores of grain halved. And families awakened to their stolen antiques returned, along with enough grain to feed themselves for a month.