Cinq couldn't remember how long it had been since he had gotten to drink a hot cup of tea, or even how long it had been since he could even sit down without worrying about being attacked or bombarded with diplomatic messages or strategical meetings.

Had it been months since he last felt at ease? Years? It was hard to say.

After analyzing the situation and coming to the conclusion that he was in no immediate danger, Cinq had gradually gotten comfortable, even going so far as to accept Iroh's request to join him for a hot cup of Jasmine tea. Though having initially felt bad that he was sitting on his laurels whilst his team was out there fighting for their lives, he opted to just let the thought go and just relax. Stressing over something he couldn't control wouldn't get him anywhere and thinking about what they were up to wouldn't help him return to the frontlines any time soon.

All he could do was remain patient and figure things out.

Setting down his cup, the white haired youth let out a small sigh, his hot breath lingering in the chilly air. Everything aside, it was a truly enjoyable cup of tea.

"So, tell me. What brings you around these parts?" Iroh blew gently on his steaming liquid. "It didn't seem as if you were sightseeing."

Cinq hesitated but only for a moment. "I don't remember. Only that it was something important."

"Mmmm." Iroh didn't probe any further than that, neither intruding upon the boys story nor providing any additional questioning. Unlike Zuko's initial anger, the elderly gentleman seemed to be much more relaxed and at ease, as if there was little that could phase him. "If it is important to you then I'm sure it'll come to mind. The things we hold close often seem to come around, even when we least expect it."

"And if they dont?" Cinq questioned, his thoughts roaming elsewhere.

Iroh didn't get the chance to respond as Zuko made his way back into the picture, storming his way over in his not so silent fashion.

"You," the scarred individual pointed towards Cinq.

"Me." Cinq responded.

"If you're gonna be on my ship than you're gonna make yourself useful." Zuko motioned for the white haired teen to follow. "Come with me."

Cinq looked towards Iroh, of whom merely shrugged, continuing to chip away at the cup of hot liquid clutched in his fingers. Seeing no proper way out of the situation, Cinq shrugged it off and aptly rose from his stool, moving in line to follow the fiery Prince. Together, they made their way down into the ships lower interior, a long hallway kept alit by bulbs of light. Moving his hand back to the dagger fastened to his back hip, Cinq raised his guard, just in case. Despite fully trusting the old man, Zuko hadn't exactly made the best first impression and, at least so far, he didn't appear to have the best control over his own emotions

"Let's get you out of those clothes," Zuko said, not even looking back. "Catching a cold out here is a death sentence."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Cinq was slightly taken aback, not having expected such a disay of kindness from the red armored teenager. He didn't physically say that though as he followed Prince Zuko into a room near the end of the hall.

"By the way.....what's with the gourd on your back?" Zuko gestured towards the big vase strapped to Cinq's back, something the the boy had been towing since being pulled put the water. "Does it have any significance?"

"See for yourself," Cinq responded, heaving the giant container off him and onto the floor.

The gourd was pitch black, about the same color as the poncho Cinq was wearing, and was about half as tall as the vase bearer himself. Dozens of white handprints were scattered around its surface, drawn in white paint with messy smudges that gave a sort of authentic feel, as if a plethora of people had actually taken the time to rub their hand against its surface. Opening wide at the top, the lid was an abnormally large cork shoved into the opening, preventing anything from going in or out of it. Near the bottom was a small slit into the side, a slit that was now being occupied by Cinq's overly large dagger. To put it lightly, it wasn't something that Zuko saw too often.

Or probably ever.

To be fair though, it wasn't like Zuko often seen a teenager with bright white hair, especially one as oddly dressed carrying a large gourd shaped vase.

Grabbing the top of the lid, Zuko looked towards Cinq, of whom gave a quick nod. With a bit of struggling, the young Prince managed to pry the cork off the entrance, revealing its contents.

A sickly sweet aroma filled the air almost immediately, catching Zuko completely off guard as he scrunched his nose up in response. It was full of some strange liquid, a sort of clear grey substance that filled the gourd very near to the brim. The liquid twisted and swirled inside the container as if it was alive, prompting more questions than Zuko had asked.

"What IS that stuff?" The prince queried, looking up from the vase. "It reeks."

"You don't recognize it?" Cinq responded thoughtfully, an interesting look on his face. "How interesting."

"Of course not."

Cinq touched two of his fingers to his chin. "It's known as liquid magic. More commonly known as Myrial. I don't remember much but I do recall quite a bit about this gourd."

"Myrial? Liquid magic?" Zuko just seemed to be more and more confused the more Cinq opened his mouth. "Are you talking about alcohol?"

Cinq let out a laugh, probably the first one he had done in what felt like eons. It was probably the first time in his fifteen years alive that someone had called liquid magic alcohol or had even made the comparison.

It was amusing.

It also answered a huge question that he had been wondering, or at the very least narrowed it down quite a bit.

Where was he at? Where had ended up? There were now two distinct answers to the two inquiries.

He was either isolated in some far off country never discovered or in a completely different universe or plane of existence.

The clothes. The ship. The environment. The humans themselves. Nothing fit into the world that Cinq himself was familiar with, and he had made sure to study every inch of the world's countries and cultures, including those that were more recluse than others.

Humans that weren't slaves to some other species, roaming the seas in a large vessel that could have only been manufactured by a dwarf or elven race, humans that didn't know what Myrial was, a common liquid every race knew of. Armed warriors that weren't privy of any sort of Rebellion despite it being a world wide event that even the most desolate of individuals knew of, one that would decide the very fate of humanity. An human who bore the title if royalty despite their never once having been a homosapien who held a high title.

No matter what scenario Cinq ran through his mind, there werent many answers that made sense other than a completely new world.

Even if it did feel like an utter impossibility.

For now, all he could do was continue to observe the ongoings around him. With further observations, the youth would be able to pinpoint everything needed and cobble together a useful solution.

Gesturing towards the opened gourd, Cinq motioned for Zuko to reseal the container. "It's not alcohol but it's something close I suppose."

"A type of drink then?" Zuko asked as he tightened the cork back on top.

"It's not a drink at all." Cinq grimaced. "For future reference, try not to get this stuff anywhere near your mouth. The human body wasn't meant process any of this stuff."

Shrugging the topic of the Myrial off, Cinq pointed towards the row of red and black uniforms hanging on the wall.

Taking the hint, Zuko turned around and rummaged through the armor before ultimately grabbing one and throwing it towards the white haired teen. It was the same uniform as the one worn by the spear wielding soldiers, the armor with the shoulder pads and thick plates on the lower body. Though it seemed rather ridiculous to Cinq, he waved his own notions aside and began to strip off his outer clothing, mainly the poncho and white undershirt. Zuko, probably not wanting to be awkward told the teen to finish up and meet him back on the top of the ship ready before making an exit.

(("So, Prince Zuko and Iroh.")) Cinq threw on the armor but ditched the helmet, refusing to put it on due to how ridiculous it felt. (("Sailing the Artic waters and found a stranger passed out. Aight, let's see where this new journey takes us."))