Wandering Prince
Avatar the Last Airbender, Zuko SI
02
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My hand shook as I rubbed my chest until the pain returned to a manageable level. Forcing myself to breathe evenly, I focused on the way my chi flowed within myself. It didn’t do anything to heal the damage done, but it did give me something else to think about for a few moments.
The pain slowly faded and I exhaled a hot, steamy breath. Grabbing the last of my supplies, I secured them in the bottom of my boat, bobbing on the waters of the Hari Bulkan harbor. The sun was already below the horizon and the last bit of twilight still lit the sky, but not for much longer—perfect conditions for a small, lone vessel to make a quiet exit from the city.
Untying from the dock, I stepped into the boat and used a long handled oar to cast off from the pier. Once I was a bit away from the pier, I sat down in front of the engine and tiller, grabbing the tiller with one hand and focusing a stream of fire into the engine with the other. Within moments, the engine began to putter, then puff, and the boat began moving away, leaving a small steam trail behind me as I turned the tiller and directed the boat towards the mouth of the bay the harbor city sat on.
“Zuko! Wait!”
Looking back towards the pier, I frowned as I spotted Ty Lee and Mai running towards the docks. Chuckling, I tossed them a wave. “Sorry, girls! I can’t stick around!”
“Azula sent us!” Mai called. “She wants you to come back!”
“Sorry Mai, no can do!”
Ty Lee didn’t let the fact that I was pulling away stop her as she ran down the pier, grabbed a rope, and swung herself up onto a docked warship. I watched, my mouth slowly falling open as she ran along the ship edge and jumped through the air, her path sending her on a direct course for my boat. Rolling my eyes, I turned the tiller a bit and sped up.
“Zuuukooo!!!” the acrobat whined, tucking into a toothpick dive and landing with a splash behind me, before coming up and spitting out a stream of water. “Come back! It’ll be fine!”
“Somehow, I doubt that. I’ll keep in touch by way of Mai’s family. Catch you later.” With that, I turned away from the fuming, soaked girl turning to pull for shore.
“We’re gonna come after you!”
“I can’t stop you,” I shrugged. “Have fun!”
“Jerk!”
I gave the boat a little more steam and powered through the harbor, heading east. The sun set fully by the time I decided I was far enough away and stopped running the engine. Pulling a map and compass out of my bag, I began working out some quick and dirty math as I plotted a course. Once I had that taken care of, I adjusted the tiller a bit, put the map and compass away, and began working on the rigging to unfurl the sails and get going on good, old fashioned wind power. Once I had everything set up and the tiller tied off, I settled down at the back of the boat and made myself comfortable on my sleeping bag as a bit of extra cushioning.
I relaxed and tried to catch some shuteye. As I did, my thoughts lingered on the last few days, by my reckoning. I had been back less than a month and already, I was leaving again. On another fight my ‘father’ instigated. My own response, mouthing off when I should’ve known better now that he was the Fire Lord. Ozai smiling as he whipped his arms through a form I hadn’t seen before, and then a bright flash, the crackle of electricity, and pain. And for just a moment, a glimpse of another place, and an old man I felt I should recognize wearing Fire Nation robes telling me it wasn’t time yet, before I found myself back in the present. Then nothing.
Nothing at all but pain and fever dreams for what felt like days. Dreams of things I had seen before and things I hadn’t. People using pyrokinesis to light fires and cause explosions with their mind. Ozai, Iroh, Azula, and myself all using lightning. Dragons breathing fire in a rainbow of colors, not all of which destroyed everything it touched. Sozin’s Comet and its hundred year cycle. The coming solar eclipse. A giant lion turtle with a forest on its back that could speak and a wandering island. A library buried in the sand.
On, and on, and on…
And then I had woken up in a cold sweat, pained and scarred from Ozai’s attack. That was this afternoon. I hadn’t stuck around after that. I’d gathered my things, stolen a sack full of coin, and fled to the lower city, into Hari Bulkan. From there, I bought myself some new clothes and supplies for a journey. Changed into peasant clothes and let my hair down, cutting off much of the length that had been pulled into the topknot I’d been expected to keep it in to do something to disguise my features a bit and not look like a noble. Then I found someone willing to sell me a boat at a decent price.
And apparently, I’m being pursued. Well, at least it’s friendly faces and they’re not trying to kill me. Not immediately. Azula told them to chase me down and bring me back, but as long as Ozai is still alive, I’m in danger, so that’s a no for me.
Eventually, I managed to drift into a fitful sleep—deep enough to rest, shallow enough to wake up every hour or so and make sure I wasn’t going to run into anything.
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I frowned as I looked at the storm blowing in from the west. It stretched across the sky as far as I could see and looked like it was approaching quickly. There was no way my little boat would survive it.
“Fuck. Should’ve listened to that fisherman,” I muttered.
I’d made land on Ember Island to pick up a few extra supplies and things I hadn’t had time to grab in my flight from my former home, along with some entertainment. I was going to be gone a long time, so I’d picked up something like a guitar to try to teach myself to play on the journey.
That was yesterday, and I’d since sailed around the island and turned for the north, and the old Western Air Temple located on a mountainous island chain north of the Fire Nation islands. As near as I could tell, I was still a week or more out from the islands—meaning I was too far out to turn back and make it back to land and nowhere near close enough to those islands to take shelter there.
Locking the tiller in place, I carefully climbed up the mast to get a look around, hoping against hope that there might be a larger ship I could make it to and take shelter on, even if it meant losing my smaller craft if the water got too rough. A shadow on the horizon to the northeast had me squinting and pulling out my spyglass as I spotted something.
In the telescope, it looked like a small, forested island. I didn’t recognize it from my charts, so it was possible that it was either uncharted or too small to bother with. Either way, it was potential shelter in the storm—at least, more so than my small boat. The fact that it had trees that big on it told me that it had likely weathered many such storms in the past and would continue to do so in the future.
Dropping down from the mast, I adjusted the sails and tiller to tack for the island, then poured on the steam, watching the pressure gauge on the little steam engine climb and carefully controlling my output to keep from redlining it and blowing the engine up, leaving me with only sails. The next half hour was nerve racking as I watched the storm getting closer and I crept closer to the island. Mental math told me I should be much further away than I was even if I had seen it in the distance, that it should be taking longer to reach it, but that was impossible because the island would have to be moving into the storm for that to be the case.
Lightning cracked and popped in the distance and the sea grew choppier as the wind began to pick up. Several times, I had to adjust the sails to keep from getting blown off course. But eventually, I cut the engine and brought the sails in as my boat coasted to a stop alongside the island.
Grabbing a line, I hopped onto the island and climbed a ways uphill, finding a decently sized tree that looked sturdy. Tying the boat off, I went back and picked up a block and tackle and some more line, then spent the next several minutes hauling the boat up away from the shore. Seeing a clear path through the trees, I hauled the boat far enough that I didn’t think any big swells would reach it.
Taking a moment to look around and stretch the kinks out, I hummed as I took in my surroundings. The island was a lot bigger than I was expecting, now that I was on it. The trees were tall, thick and sturdy, and looked like they would weather the storm just fine. But just in case, I’ll take some time to prepare.
Finding a nice spot between the trees, I went few feet back the way I came and found a thinner tree that looked like it could stand to be felled. Fire sprang to my hand, shifting from orange to blue as the sound changed from that of a roaring fire, to something more akin to a cutting torch. It only took a minute to cut/burn enough of the base of the tree to fell it where I wanted it, getting it good and stuck between several of the other trees and blocking off the path back down to the water.
Taking my things out of the boat, I carefully flipped it over and settled it against the downed tree, using some limbs to keep the engine elevated and from getting damaged. Then, I repeated the process with a second tree further up, felling it in the opposite direction, creating a little sheltered area between the two trees. I lashed the boat into place and put my things under the shelter of its hull, then grabbed my hatchet from my pack and set about cutting a few limbs and tying them together to form a lean to, which I put over the boat. A few more limbs had some fire wood, and some quick fire bending dried them out enough to use.
That was when the sky opened up and it began to pour down rain. Hurrying back under my shelter, I settled in and started a small fire. Wind shook the trees above me, but in my little shelter, I barely felt it at all.
Breaking out some food, I cooked myself a quick meal of fish and grilled vegetables and ate. With nothing else to do, I settled into my sleeping bag for some rest, to catch up on the sleep I’d lost the last few days, having to sleep off and on to keep from running into anything. As I drifted off, I sighed as the phantom sensation of bobbing up and down on a boat returned, feeling like the whole island was bobbing in the water under the force of the waves and storm.
The worst of the storm passed in the middle of the night, but it was still raining pretty hard the next day, so I spent that time meditating and resting. The following morning, I woke up and saw that it was a bright, sunny day. I crawled out of my shelter and stretched, before running through my usual morning exercises. Once I was good and warmed up, I set off exploring the little island I’d found myself on. I started by making my way further uphill.
Finding what looked like the tallest tree on the island, I climbed up into the top of it and had a look around. In the distance to the south, according to my compass, I could make out a set of islands rising out of the water—what must be the north western Fire Islands, as though I had circled around Ember Island and just kept going west.
“The hell?” I muttered, pulling my spyglass from one of the pockets on my vest and having a look to confirm. “That’s… not possible.”
Shifting in the tree, I had a good look around, seeing nothing but water to the east and west, the line of islands and more water to the south, and even more water to the north. Panning over the shore again, a glint between the mountains that seemed to be getting closer caught my eye. In between mountains, I caught sight of some kind of Aztec looking pyramid or ziggurat, and something at the top shining.
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I’m not where I wanted to be, but… nothing is stopping me from just making land and going to explore. I’m not exactly on any sort of a time limit here, until they free Aang, and I seem to recall that probably won’t be for another year or two. Plenty of time to explore and work on getting stronger. Yeah, screw it. I’ll go poke around and see if I can find something interesting.
I put the glass away and, as I was getting ready to get down, I happened to look at the water closer to the rear of the island, where I spotted a wake. “Okay… we’re moving. Islands don’t move.”
Making my way back down the tree, I spotted a clearing on the way down with a big divot in the ground. Heading over to investigate, I found a big hexagon dug into the surrounding dirt and rock, where it looked like someone had clearly excavated it. Inside the hexagon, the bottom was pale brown and covered in layers of hexagons, one inside the other, and a big central design that looked like of like a butterfly or moth.
Making my way down into the excavated area, I knelt down and touched the brown surface, finding it smooth to the touch. A look at the rock and dirt around it showed that it was only about five feet deep, maybe less—that is, if the surface below me covered the entire island. Humming, I placed my ear to the surface and knocked.
“Bone?” I wondered, before my mind turned to one of my fever dreams. An island that moved and a giant lion turtle. “Shell,” I grinned.
Making my way back to the boat, I quickly turned it right side up and loaded my things inside, then carefully lowered it back down into the water. It was as I was getting ready to cast off that the island, the lion turtle, shuddered and came to a stop. Sitting down in front of the tiller, I fired up the engine and pulled around slowly to the front of the big animal. As I approached, the turtle raised itself a bit higher in the water and, clearing the side, I saw the gigantic head had turned to face me—two gigantic eyes studying me intently.
Coasting to a stop in front of it, I stood carefully and bowed. “Thank you for the shelter last night. I would have surely capsized and drowned without your aid.”
The big animal nodded, before one of its paws left the water. I watched as two of the gigantic claws approached and held still, curious as to what it was doing. There was a faint touch of contact at my forehead and heart and a flash of green light. Inside me, I felt everything change. My chi, my bending, as new power, potential, and knowledge filled me.
I blinked as the turtle lowered its paw and ponderously turned away. “Uh, thank you!”
Dropping into my seat on the boat, I stared after it for a few minutes as it quickly swam away, pondering the gift I’d been granted. I had no idea why it had chosen to do so, but who knew with spirits and other such ancient beings.
I still felt somewhat out of sorts when I finally managed to pull myself together enough to turn the boat for shore and fire up the engine. Once I pulled onto the sandy beach, I made sure to tie off to a tree, then gathered some supplies for a trek and maybe a bit of hunting on the way back—if I could find some wild game, I’d take the time to smoke it so I could add it to my supplies.
My sword went onto my left hip, storage pouch on my right hip, while my bow I left in its leather case attached to its quiver on the side of my pack. I was packing light for this little excursion, so only brought some food and water to last a couple of days along with my bedroll. Then, it was time to start walking.
Well, at least the hike will give me some time to think.
And I had a lot to think about, as I turned my mind towards the gift I’d been given. I thought it was called ‘energy bending,’ but that didn’t really do it justice, or at least what I felt it might be capable of. Or rather, the name did accurately describe exactly what it seemed to be capable of—but what I seemed to remember from the first series, the ability to grant and remove bending, was just scratching the surface. It was the ability to bend energy directly. Not just chi, not just yin and yang, but energy of all forms.
There was a lot to unpack there. Shaking my head, I opened the pouch at my side and took out my journal and pen. As I cracked open the journal, its pages flipped to a blank page. I started writing down everything I could remember as I walked.
Pens were actually a new thing I was kind of directly responsible for. I’d shown Master Piandao some technical drawings I’d made in my journal using a charcoal pencil of a simple pen—just a glass tube full of ink capped in a metal nib with a ball point and a metal shell around the exterior. The man had liked it so much he’d given me half a dozen very fancy handmade pens made of an assortment of materials—wood, various metals, and jade—and a bunch of ink tubes I could refill myself. Then he’d pretty much gone on to corner the market on them. Not that I could blame him.
As for the journal… it might be more accurate to call it a grimoire. The book was magic. I’d had it as long as I could remember and I wasn’t entirely sure where it came from. I thought Ursa got it for me as a birthday present, but I wasn’t sure and had never bothered to ask. The thing was self-repairing, always found its way back to me if I lost it, sorted and organized everything written into it into sections, and was even searchable—flipping to the page I needed if I was looking for something in particular. My best guess was that it was something related to the spirit world.
Meditation and astral projection via bending of one’s own energy…
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The sun had set by the time I made it to the outskirts of the city—or what had been a city. It was long deserted ruins now, from a long dead civilization. Deciding to explore it tomorrow in the daylight, I started the process of making camp, only to pause as something caught my eye. I settled down and waited until the sun was fully behind the mountains and twilight had descended to confirm what I thought I’d seen—a fire on the side of one of the mountains surrounding the old city.
“This place isn’t so abandoned after all.”
Picking up my bag and bending myself a fireball to see by, I trekked my way through the forest, to the foot of the mountain. I didn’t bother trying to hide my approach. If the natives were peaceful, it wouldn’t be a problem. If they weren’t… Well, I had my sword for a reason.
I only made it a few steps out of the treeline before I found myself confronted by a hunting party of some sort, or maybe guards. There were six of them—two armed with swords, two with spears, and two with bows, and all of their weapons were pointed at me.
“Hey, fellas,” I chuckled, holding up my hands, the fire still burning in one of them to see by.
“What do you want?”
“Where did you come from?”
“How did you find this place?”
Looking over the group, I grinned and asked, “Would you believe me if I said a lion turtle brought me here?”
The group looked at each other uncertainly, before the apparent leader spoke up. “Bring him before the chief.”
The others all nodded, and I found myself in the center of a formation being led to the village. But they weren’t disarming me, restraining me, or poking me full of holes so I took it as a good sign. Or at least a sign that they had decided that I was a problem above their pay grade and they’d rather let their boss handle it.
The chief turned out to be a tall older man wearing a feathered headdress, red and white face paint, and red and gold clothes that fit the Aztec theme. A group of villagers had come with him and they all stared at me suspiciously as the chief studied me in silence for a few moments. Finally, the big man asked, “Why have you come?”
“I was caught out at sea when that big storm hit. I came across an island that I thought was moving towards me and took refuge until it passed. Turns out, it was moving towards me, and it wasn’t an island. It was a lion turtle, and he brought me here—”
“He’s obviously lying!” a skinny man who looked so much like a Disney villain that I almost laughed at him pointed at me. “He’s clearly a thief here to steal Sun Warrior treasure!”
I frowned as that name tickled my memory. “Sun Warriors? Weren’t they the first practitioners of firebending? Well, the first humans the dragons taught, anyway.”
“We are,” the chief nodded.
Nodding, I introduced myself. “My name is Zuko. Would you be willing to teach me the original way of firebending—?”
“What? No!” the Disney villain yelled.
The chief, on the other hand, hummed and reached up to stroke his short goatee. Finally, he nodded. “Come, join us for a meal. Tomorrow, if you wish to learn the ways of the sun, you must learn them from masters Ran and Shaw. You will present yourself to them and they will read your heart, your soul, and your ancestry. If they deem you worthy, they’ll teach you. If they don’t…”
The guy who I was beginning to think was some priest figure, giggled. “You’ll be killed where you stand!”
“Sounds fair,” I nodded.
I followed them back to their little village. The place was all relatively new construction of log cabins or huts and adobe shingles, with open windows covered in tightly woven nets to keep the bugs out while letting in a cool breeze since I imagined it stayed hot and humid here nearly year round, just as it stayed warm year round in the capital.
In the square, they had a large bonfire going and were roasting something that smelled delicious. Apparently, the village had more people than I thought, as the square was full of villagers dancing, eating, drinking, laughing, and having a good time.
I sat my pack down near the edge of the fire and pulled out my bedroll to sit on, before pulling off my sword and other kit. I caught the chief talking to a young woman out of the corner of my eye and, a few moments later, she approached with a plate covered in meat and vegetable skewers and two cups.
I looked up, taking in her athletic form with a grin. I could get to like this place, if all the girls look like this.
“For you,” she offered the food and drink and I accepted, before sitting down and patting the seat beside me.
“Thank you. I’m Zuko,” I began, and she nodded.
“Mali,” she introduced herself as she sat, and we began to eat.
“So, you do this every night?”
“Mm. Most nights. There isn’t much of anything else to do in the village, so we make our own entertainment,” she giggled.
“Must be nice.”
“Where did you come from, Zuko?”
I hummed, chewing on a mouthful as I considered what to tell her. Taking a sip, I briefly choked at the alcohol content and Mali giggled. “As I said, we make our own entertainment.”
“That’s some strong ‘entertainment,’” I coughed. Finally, I shrugged and decided on the truth. “The capital. My father tried to kill me. I think he did, for a few seconds there. I left as soon as I woke up and was able to move. Got caught up in that big storm…”
The night wore on and when we finished eating and exchanging stories, Mali took my hands and pulled me to my feet, demanding that I dance with her. The dance was… not actually a dance. I’d been studying some of the other villagers doing it while we spoke and it looked to my eyes more like a firebending kata—that is, when they weren’t doing something more like normal dancing. Sure, one I had never seen before, but I recognized motions for stances, punches, kicks, and techniques intended to launch fire.
Despite being a few cups in, my instructor knew exactly what she was doing, and it wasn’t long before we were moving through the mirrored form together. As we moved, I noticed the swaying, almost serpentine movements involved. It seemed less like the firebending I knew and more akin to waterbending.
“What’s this technique called?”
Mali smiled as we started again. “The Dance of the Dragon.”
That explains the flow of the movements, then, I mused, nodding as we danced.
Eventually, people began making their way to bed for the night. Mali politely excused herself the moment her husband came by and introduced himself, before asking if she was ready to turn in. I thanked her for the instruction and the hospitality and made my way to my sleeping bag, where I crashed for the night.
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Of course the masters would be dragons. Not surprised Uncle Iroh lied to protect them, I mused as I loaded up the boat.
I had taken part in their ritual the following morning, ending up before the masters just as the sun was hitting its zenith. I’ll be honest, I nearly shit my pants when a pair of huge fuckoff dragons rushed out of their caves at me.
I’ll just skip that part of the story. If I ever tell it. As far as anyone else will ever know, I didn’t so much as flinch and I knew I was safe the whole time.
After the dance, the dragons had apparently decided I passed their test. Their demonstration of firebending was… enlightening. I’d dreamed of different ways to use firebending over the years, and I had a lot of old memories of things I had been experimenting with from my old world, but what they taught me was so much more.
For instance, fire didn’t have to destroy. Fire burned away the old, yes, but it cleared way to make room for new growth. Fire was the very spark of life. It cleansed and purified, body and soul alike.
I had been using my newfound knowledge from the moment I learned it, changing my breathing and internal chi flows. I’d stayed up late last night just to get a head start on it. Even now, I could feel the damage Ozai had done healing.
I spent another night in the village before setting out this morning. I’d offered to trade or barter for provisions, but the chief would hear none of it, and had a few of his people pack up some smoked meat, fruits, vegetables, and some jugs of their fruity liquor and carry them down to my boat for me.
Finished securing everything under a tarp in case it rained, I sat and waited a bit, watching the tide come in. Eventually, it got high enough, and I shoved the boat back out into the water. Firing up the engine, I got the boat turned around and pointed the direction I wanted to go, then deployed the sails. From there, I locked the tiller in place. I planted my foot near the engine to keep it going, took out my grimoire, and started writing down everything I had learned.
My pen made neat lines as I drew out the stances for the Dance of the Dragon. Once I was finished with that, I moved on to the wisdom I’d gleaned from the dragons’ display and my own thoughts on it, filtered through the knowledge of my past life.
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“Take your time. Make sure we have plenty of supplies. Who knows how long we will need to go between resupplies, chasing after my wayward nephew. Also, make sure everything is secure. The rainy season is approaching, you know. We want to be sure we make it there in one piece. Better to do everything right the first time,” Iroh smiled at the captain of the ship he had been assigned.
The captain hesitated only a moment as he contemplated the underlying order—that is, to drag his feet. After a moment, he nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Iroh nodded, picking up his teacup and taking a sip. Ozai may be fire lord now, but Iroh had been in the military for a long time, while his brother had only served briefly before moving on to courtly politics. Ozai had no idea of the multitude of ways the soldiers under his command could disobey while appearing to follow his orders diligently.
If we’re thorough, we can buy Zuko another week just sitting in port, waiting on a shipment of fresh produce, he mused.
Eventually, my brother’s attention will waver. Until then, Zuko must do his best not to draw his father’s attention.
A frown pulled at his lips and he sighed. Quietly, he murmured, “That a father would try to kill his son… My brother has no idea what it is he’s thrown away. If I had one more day with Lu Ten…”
Iroh trailed off as his thoughts turned to better times. Happier times, spent with Lu Ten, Zuko, Azula, his wife, and Ursa.