Wandering Prince
Avatar the Last Airbender, Zuko SI
07
----------------------------------------
Chief Arnook was not a particularly large man, nor was he very imposing. In fact, he looked like a man who had aged too fast, carrying the weight of his people on his shoulders for too long. He was worn down, with deep crags of lines and wrinkles on his face. His once black hair was still more pepper than salt, but the signs of stress were starting to show. The man had inherited a war from more than one chieftain before him though, so I couldn’t say it wasn’t earned.
By comparison, his wife looked healthy and young. She had a few smile lines at the corners of her mouth, but otherwise I would have put her at about thirty—mid-thirties at most. I see where Yue gets her looks from.
This wasn’t some grand ceremonial gathering room Yagoda had dragged me and Yue off to, but rather a small room apparently close to the kitchen judging by the smell, with only a single table and seats inside. Seated at the table were of course, Arnook and his wife, Yue taking her place beside her mother, an older man, and a few empty seats.
Arnook looked at Yagoda like a stranger as she took what I assumed was her normal seat and directed me to sit beside her. “Young lady, that seat is reserved. And why did you bring him?” he began, only for Yagoda to cut him off with a cackle.
“Show some respect for your elders! I changed your diapers, Arnook!”
A few places down, the much older man leaned forward to stare at Yagoda—this one bald up top but with long hair on the back and sides of his head and a Fu Manchu beard. After a few moments, he asked, “Yagoda?”
“That’s right, Pakku,” she grinned, starting to fill her plate before turning to me. “Go on, don’t be shy.”
“Thanks,” I nodded and began doing likewise.
“What happened to you?!” Pakku demanded, the room having fallen silent as we now had the attention of everyone at the table—Arnook and his wife clearly wanting an answer to that question as well. Yue shrank down into herself a bit, staying quiet as she began to eat, visibly trying to avoid the conversation but still paying attention.
Yagoda reached out and patted my hand. “That would all be thanks to this young man here. The dear boy discovered a way to heal using fire—”
“Fire Nation lies!” Pakku spat.
“Shut your mouth, you old goat!” the woman beside me glared. “You’ll not speak ill of my guest, or you can fix your own creaky knee.”
Pakku’s mouth snapped shut as he glared back, before stabbing something on his plate with entirely too much force. Arnook began opening up a crab of some kind on his plate as he asked, “Is this true?”
“It is,” Yagoda confirmed. “Ask Yue. She was there.”
Arnook turned to his daughter, who winced at being put on the spot, but nodded. “It’s true, father. I oversaw the entire process. It was… miraculous.”
“I’m sure,” Pakku muttered.
Humming, Arnook met my eyes across the table as I ate quietly, holding my peace. Etiquette in this situation dictated that I wait to be addressed before involving myself. I was a guest here and, unless my opinion was asked for, it was assumed that it wasn’t wanted.
At least, according to one school of thought in my formal etiquette classes. The other said that as a noble, especially as a member of the royal family, and most especially as a prince I should try to contribute meaningfully—but respectfully—and not be a passive observer, as that was a sign of weakness. The only time passive observance was permitted was in the ‘information gathering’ phase, where one studied the debate at hand and the personalities of those involved and drew their own conclusions. That was supposed to end with either an impressive display of insight into the topic at hand or an attack on one of those debating to point out the flaws in their argument.
The ‘attack’ course of action was, of course, to be undertaken with caution and only with an awareness of the rank and social standing of the person one was using the tactic on. For instance, it would be permissible to use it against some foreigner or lesser noble, but not permissible to use against a high ranking military officer, unless you had a constructive alternative to whatever he was suggesting. Even in the latter case, that could still be grounds for Agni Kai—which is what those classes were meant to prevent.
Yes, that’s right. Young Fire Nation nobles putting their feet in their mouths and getting themselves Agni Kai’d out of the gene pool had led to mandatory training for how to avoid that. It was just a shame that the lessons didn’t stick for so many who thought they were hot shit. I paid attention because I didn’t like the idea of being randomly challenged, or putting myself in a position where Ozai might have actual grounds to challenge me himself for any sort of perceived attack on his authority, competence, or anything else to cause him to lose face.
Apparently, keeping my smartass comments to the dinner table where it was just the three of us wasn’t good enough. In retrospect, I knew I was playing around with fire—I’d just made the critical mistake of thinking that if I didn’t push too far, or in front of others where he would have to respond, that I would be safe. I was dead wrong.
“Let’s hear the truth of it from our guest. Please, introduce yourself,” Arnook instructed.
I took a moment to wash my food down with a sip of tea before giving a shallow bow where I sat. “I’m Zuko. Thank you for having me here. It’s true, I am a firebender and yes, I fled the Fire Nation. Since then, I’ve been on what I guess you’d call a spiritual journey, learning what I can, where I can, and deepening my understanding of both firebending specifically, bending in general, and the world as a whole. In my travels I encountered two ancient firebending masters, Ran and Shaw, who gave me a revelation about the nature of fire. Namely, that it could be used for things other than destruction. That just as fire consumes, it’s the spark of life. It is a living element. It breathes, it eats. It burns away the old and brings new life. It purifies and cleanses. That’s why I came here, seeking the best healers in the world. I wanted to learn more about it, where it differed from healing with water, and learn if it was truly safe to use.”
Holding up my hand, I conjured a handful of green flame, making Arnook, his wife, and Pakku all flinch—the old waterbender bending part of the ice floor into water and holding it ready at his side. Holding out the flame to Yagoda, the newly young woman stuck her hand into it, leaving it in for long enough that a normal fire would’ve left her hand a charred mess, before pulling it out and wiggling her perfectly healthy fingers for all to see. I let the flames die and took up my fork again.
“You see?” she grinned. “I’ve had some time to study the fire. It has strong healing properties—much stronger than healing by waterbending. What it lacks is an ability to do anything about chi pathways, other than rebuild them. It could not fix a chi pathway afflicted by some sort of curse by a spirit.”
Not the green fire, no. But I think maybe that’s what purple is for, I mused, but kept that to myself for now, since I had nothing to test it against. I suspected it was something to do with spirits, anyway.
“And this somehow restored your youth?” Arnook asked, and Yagoda nodded.
“It took the better part of the day, but yes. And let me tell you, it feels great! No more aches and pains. I don’t feel tired anymore. Actually, I feel like I could run across Agna Qel’a if I wanted. I can see clearly for the first time in decades! I can hear again.” Beaming a wide smile, she added, “My damn teeth grew back! I want a steak so bad I can practically taste it!”
“And what was the cost?” Pakku demanded, finally lowering his sphere of water and letting it splash harmlessly onto the floor. “What did he ask in return?”
“Nothing,” I shrugged. “I did it as thanks for helping me to understand the technique and confirm that I wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone using it.”
“Somehow, I doubt that was your only motivation.”
“Doubt all you like. I came here with a few goals in mind. First, to better understand how the green fire works, which I’ve achieved. The second, to practice my firebending in the environment most adverse to it, and I’d say I’m doing pretty well so far. And finally, to try to gain some insights into the nature of fire by looking at it through the lens of water.”
“I beg your pardon,” Pakku recoiled, an offended look on his face.
“My uncle discovered how to redirect lightning by taking inspiration from waterbending. I want to see how the various styles of bending can interact with each other. Fire, with a greater understanding of water, air, and earth.”
“No doubt so you can take it back to your people to better understand how to kill the rest of us.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “I can’t go back and wouldn’t if I could. Not right now.”
“Pakku, you’re being rude,” Yagoda cut in before Pakku could open his mouth again. Turning to Arnook, she said, “Do you know how many fighting men are out of commission due to permanent, crippling injuries that I can’t heal? I do. Do you know how many people have been permanently maimed or disfigured and left scarred for life from fire? I do. How about how many of our warriors and healers have left service due to old age?” Yagoda paused, before grinning and admitting, “I don’t actually know that number, but it’s a lot. Even the old goat here could do with having a few decades shaved off.”
Arnook folded his arms, leaning back in his seat as he considered what Yagoda was proposing. Finally, he looked to me and asked, “And how many could you restore in a day?”
“I have no idea,” I answered honestly. “For minor to moderate wounds that normal healing can’t fix? Probably several. Regrowing limbs would take more time, and they’d need to eat a lot to have material for me to use so their body isn’t weakened by the process. That might actually take the longest of all. I know for a fact I can do at least one per day as I helped Yagoda, but I’m close to tapped out. So whatever you decided, you’d want to prioritize. Do you want able-bodied fighters, do you want to restore the youth of older soldiers, or do you want heal burns and such that are keeping otherwise fit people away from duty? Also, keep in mind that I’m not planning to stay here forever. I’m going to leave eventually to continue my journey.”
Quietly, Pakku muttered, “Assuming you leave here.”
I fixed the old man with a smile. “One.”
He frowned as he met my gaze. “One what?”
“If you want my help, that’s one concession you’ll be making.”
“And who do you think is going to enforce such a deal, hm? You presume you’ll be allowed to leave with such a valuable skill. Keeping you here keeps it out of the hands of our enemies.”
I shrugged. “You’re right, you could keep me here. I’m not stupid. I can’t fight my way out with an army of waterbenders and soldiers standing between me and the exit. But you can’t compel me to help you. So really, the end result of that is the same as if you choose not to honor any deal. You can die old and bitter, and I’ll outlive you. If you imprison me, I’ll be young and strong a hundred years from now, and by then your descendants will have forgotten why they were even holding me. Eventually, their guard will slip and I’ll escape. That’s assuming the Fire Navy doesn’t make a big push and take Agna Qel’a within the next few years, as some of the higher ups have been urging.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
The old master sneered. “Who said you would live through the night?”
I scoffed. “We both know you won’t kill me because I’m too valuable alive. As long as I’m alive, there’s always a chance you might actually convince me to work for you, either through bribery or coercion.”
“I think you would change your tune after a few nights in a cold cell.”
“By all means, if you’d like to try, I can’t and won’t stop you. I won’t fight. I’ll go peacefully to whatever hole you want to stick me in. Or,” I looked to Arnook, “we can be reasonable here and come to some sort of agreement. The choice is yours, chieftain. Unless Pakku is the one making the decisions?”
“He is not,” Arnook murmured. Looking between Yagoda and Pakku, Arnook asked, “What do you propose?”
Yagoda grinned. “Yue, why don’t you and Zuko go for a walk? Give us some time to talk. If you’re still hungry, swing by the kitchen and get something.”
Yue looked uncertainly at her father, who nodded. She stood and I followed her lead, letting her lead me from the room and down the hall. Once we were far enough away, she sighed quietly. “I’m sorry about that. Master Pakku…”
“Is old and set in his ways?” I sent her an amused look, and she chuckled.
“He cares for our people very much. He has also seen much fighting, between our peoples.”
I nodded as she found a set of stairs leading up and we began to ascend. “I understand. I don’t blame him. He’s got a lifetime’s worth of experience with the Fire Nation being the enemy. Doesn’t mean I enjoy being on the receiving end.” Blowing out an annoyed breath, I asked, “You’ve lived here your entire life. You’ve seen negotiations between your father and others before, right? How do you think it’s going to go?”
“Hmm,” Yue let out a quiet hum as she considered. “I can’t say for certain.”
“Best guess, then,” I pushed, sending her a smile. “I won’t hold you to it or be mad if it turns out you’re wrong.”
The white haired girl nodded and we left the stairwell. It emptied out onto a balcony that overlooked much of the city. Making out way outside, we leaned against a railing and I whistled quietly at the view. The light of the setting sun burned orange and pink, reflecting off the walls surrounding the city and down onto the homes below—casting the city into an odd play of light and shadow, and dim areas where light passed through enough ice to partially illuminate some places. A few buildings, closer to the southern, sea-facing wall, had already started to light torches as that entire area was now shadowed.
“I come up here every morning and evening, to watch the sun rise and set,” Yue said quietly. Looking over and slightly up to me, she asked, “What were they like at your home?”
I shook my head. “You couldn’t really see either from inside the caldera. By the time the sun was overhead, it was close to midday. Then we only had a few hours before it was back down. Most of the time in the caldera was spent in shadow. Likewise, seeing the moon at night was a rare treat. Most people there didn’t bother, for obvious reasons, but I liked to stay up late during the times of the year when it would be visible just to see it.”
“That,” Yue murmured, looking around at the steep walls surrounding us, “sounds remarkably similar to Agna Qel’a, in some ways.”
“Your walls are lower, but you don’t get to really see the sun dip below the horizon because of your walls, yeah,” I agreed. “The light show makes up for it.”
She smiled, nodding once, and we fell into a companionable silence. After a while, Yue eventually asked, “Yagoda has already told you what will likely happen, hasn’t she?”
“She gave me her thoughts on it, and what she plans to suggest. I want to hear what you think.”
Yue sent me an inquisitive look. “Do you?”
“Well, yeah,” I nodded. “You’re the expert here. This is your country. They’re your people. The chieftain is your father. If anyone can guess at his next move, it’ll be you. I’d be an idiot not to ask for the opinion of the person closest to the ones making the decision, and a fool not to listen. Yagoda’s just a healer and a meddlesome old woman, from what I can see. Someone respected in your tribe, but not the one calling the shots. She can only suggest. It’s up to your father to decide.”
A faint smile crossed her face and Yue looked away. “I think Yagoda is correct, in this. The traditional way is through marriage. I’m not quite of age for a suitor to propose yet, but I’m close enough that father would do it.” Her hands clenched on the railing and she asked, “Is that what you want?”
“It takes two to tango,” I countered. “What I want or don’t want alone shouldn’t be the sole deciding factor here. Your opinion matters and I’d like to hear it.”
“Mm. May I hear yours first?”
“Alright. Listen. We’ve known each other for all of two days at this point, Yue. Yes, you’re beautiful, and any man would be lucky to have you for that alone. But I’d like to get to know you better before we get to that point.”
Her blue eyes stared into my gold as she listened intently, a bit of a blush on her face at being called beautiful, but she nodded to my point of wanting to get to know her better. “I would like that as well. To get to know you better, I mean,” she clarified, smiling.
Sending her a grin, I added, “I mean, for all I know, you snore. That’s a huge deal breaker for me. And I know I drool in my sleep, so if that turns you off, we’re just not gonna make it.”
The girl giggled, bringing a gloved hand up to cover her lips. “Yes, and I don’t think I could marry a man who doesn’t enjoy stewed sea prunes.”
I made a face. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I don’t even like seafood all that much.”
Yue gasped, making her eyes go wide as she fought down a smile. “To say such a thing in the heart of the northern water tribe? I should push you from this balcony myself!”
“Oh yeah, you’d smother me in my sleep the first time I told you your prunes were only okay,” I grinned, and she stuck her tongue out, giggling. “We’d better go tell your dad to reconsider immediately.”
We shared a quiet laugh and when Yue shifted beside be and bumped me with her hip, I lightly pushed back, until we were standing pressed against each other. After a few moments, a quiet sigh left her lips. “But my duty—”
“Forget duty,” I shook my head. “What do you want? I’m not asking Yue, the water tribe princess. I’m asking Yue, the woman. If duty weren’t a consideration, what would you want?”
Yue bit her lip, looking out over the city as the light began to dim. Eventually, she gave her answer. “Your stories of other places are so fascinating. I, I want to go. To see them for myself!” Her hands clenched the railing tightly. “I don’t want to be trapped behind these walls for the rest of my life. I want to go out and see the world. I know it’s dangerous, but other people take that risk every day and are just fine. I want to travel the Earth Kingdom and see the sights of Ba Sing Se. I want to visit our sister tribe in the south. And I want to see the place you called home.”
Turning slightly, she met my eyes and continued, “I want to meet the sister you spoke of, and your friends.” A frown crossed her face as her eyes shifted down to my chest. She’d had a pretty unobstructed view all day, so I had a good idea that the sight of my scar was still fresh in her mind. “Perhaps find your father and give him a piece of my mind.”
“Let’s not go inciting any international incidents, hm?” I chuckled, shaking my head. I honestly hadn’t thought Yue had it in her to get that worked up over something, let alone someone who was effectively a stranger, but I had to admit that her angry face was kind of sexy. “Can’t say I blame you for wanting to travel, though. The journey so far has mostly been wonderful. A bit lonely, though.”
Yue nodded. “Making the journey alone wouldn’t be as much fun as taking it with a companion.” Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Perhaps someone who could keep me safe?”
“Or you could learn to keep yourself safe,” I grinned, playing obtuse and earning a pout in response. “If this deal goes through, that’s what I’m going to demand of Pakku if he wants anything out of me. That he start training the women to do normal waterbending.”
“Why?” Yue asked, curiosity in her voice. “I know you said yesterday that it just made sense to do so, but why would you push so hard for it yourself?”
I considered her for a few moments, trying to decide how to answer. Eventually, I shrugged. “They never found the Avatar, a hundred years ago. He, or she, escaped to somewhere. If there hasn’t been a new one born in one of the water tribes yet, which we’d all know if there was, then he or she would be a very old airbender who may or may not have mastered other elements yet. Or suppose that airbender died, the waterbender after them died in some attack or by accident, and the next Avatar is an earthbender who doesn’t know what they are yet. Or a firebender. Either way, they’re going to need training. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that they’ll be female. If the Avatar wants to learn from the best, and happens to be female, then would Pakku teach them now?”
Nibbling at her bottom lip, Yue thought about it for a moment before giving her answer. “Perhaps. He might make an exception for the Avatar.”
“And if I forced the issue and got him over that hurdle now, then he wouldn’t complain if a female Avatar showed up on his doorstep in need of training a year from now,” I pointed out, and Yue nodded. “Or if the cycle has already looped and the next Avatar is born tomorrow up here as a waterbender, then he won’t cripple their development.”
Nodding again, Yue asked, “Is that what you’re doing? Searching for the Avatar?”
“It’s one of my goals,” I told a half-truth. I was pretty sure the Avatar was Aang and at the south pole, on ice. I was just putting off heading down there, partly in the hopes that he’d have thawed out by the time I got there, partly because I really did want to travel and have time to grow. “More of a side-project. If I find them, or evidence of them, that’d be nice. If not… well, the goal of the journey isn’t the destination.”
Footsteps from the direction of the stairs interrupted us before Yue could say anything and we turned to see one of the water tribe warriors walk up. He was young—or at least, the same age as myself and Yue. He wore the typical blue and white of the water tribe and had what looked like a whale bone sword strapped to his side. He had the typical dark hair and blue eyes of the water tribe, a particularly square jaw, and what I felt was a very punchable face—especially with the way his eyes trailed over Yue, before glaring at me.
“Princess, your father sent me to fetch you and our… guest,” he said, before gesturing back towards the stairwell.
“Thank you, Hahn. We’ll be down in a moment—”
“He said now,” Hahn frowned.
I plastered a grin on my face and turned to Yue. “Wow, Yue. You didn’t tell me you had a brother!”
“I don’t,” Yue shook her head, looking confused, and likely wondering where I was going with that.
“You don’t?” I asked, playing up my supposed confusion. I jerked a thumb at Hahn. “So, this guy isn’t the son of the chieftain? He must be someone important in the military or some master waterbender though, right?”
“No. Hahn is just a regular soldier in training,” Yue shook her head, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Hahn’s jaw and fists clench. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that from his attitude, it seems like he thinks he has some sort of authority to tell you what to do,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I mean, could you imagine, a rank nobody trying to use your father’s authority to boss you around? That sounds like career suicide to me.”
“Enough—!” Hahn tried, but I spoke over him.
“I know that back in the Fire Nation, if some absolute nobody rank and file trainee came up to Princess Azula and took that kind of tone, there wouldn’t be a body to bury.”
“Is that a threat, Fire Nation?” the would-be soldier demanded.
I sent him a skeptical look. “Did it sound like one? In case you’re confused, a threat sounds something like, If you don’t fuck off, I’m going to burn your face off.”
Hahn reached for his sword and Yue stepped between us. “Enough!” Taking a breath, she demanded, “Hahn, go tell father we’ll be down in a minute.”
“But—”
“Now Hahn.”
Turning on his heel, Hahn stomped down the stairs. Yue waited until he was out of sight before spinning around and glaring at me. “And you!”
“You know you’re sexy when you’re angry?” I grinned. I thought she was some kind of wallflower. Your typical shut in princess type. Definitely liking this side to her.
Yue’s anger guttered out like I’d doused her with cold water. She looked away, lips pulling into a pout. “You didn’t have to antagonize him.”
“No,” I agreed, “but he was being a dick. And was I wrong?”
Yue blew out a breathy sigh. “No.”
“You’re a princess, Yue. I’m sure you know this, but there’s a time to act like Yue, the woman and a time to act like Yue, the princess. If you let jackasses like that walk all over you, what’s going to happen when you get older? If you married that clown, he’d be the one in charge of the tribe, not you—and forget being treated like a wife.”
“I know,” she nodded. “I just… don’t enjoy it.”
“Good.” Yue sent me a confused look and I smiled, taking her elbow as I led her down the stairs, back to where the others were waiting. “The problem with royalty is that eventually, they get full of themselves. You’re much more grounded than they are. You’re aware of the duties and responsibilities, but from what I’ve seen, you don’t even use, let alone abuse your power. You just need to stand up for yourself more and you’ll be perfect.”
“I see,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around mine as we walked. We were nearly out of the stairwell when she asked, “Didn’t you tell me that your sister’s name is Azula?”
“I did, didn’t I?” I sent her a smile.
Yue gave me the side-eye. “And the princess’s name is also Azula.”
“It is,” I confirmed, nodding. “You see, the previous emperor before Ozai was Azulon, and Azula is the female form of that. It’s considered bad form to name a child after a sitting Fire Lord, but naming them after a dead one is fine—even if it’s only a day gone. Once the emperor died, it became a very popular name. Things are going to be very confusing in the academy in a few years, when they have an entire class of Azulons and Azulas—especially since we don’t do family names in the Fire Nation, unlike some places in the Earth Kingdom.”
Yue chuckled at that image even as she eyed me skeptically. “You’ve never told me, but how old is your sister, Zuko?”
I thought about it for a moment, trying to determine the date. “Twelve or thirteen. Her birthday should be soon. She’s a year and change younger than me.”
“And emperor Azulon died…?”
The door to the room adjacent to the kitchen came into sight and I sent her a grin as I put off answering until we got closer. Just before we entered, I said, “Oh, a few years back now.”
Yue made a quiet, frustrated noise and glared at me as we entered and had to cut our conversation short. The others looked up at our entrance and Yagoda grinned. “I see you two are getting along,” she leered, turning a pointed look on Arnook, who merely frowned.
Yue and I retook our seats and Arnook spoke up. “We’ve come to a decision.”