Submission for round 3 of the Pro-bending Circuit

Words: 1,714

Prompts:

Easy: (word) lost /Medium: (smell) sweat /Hard: (plot) Lost in a supermarket


Zuko let out a yawn and stretched his arms forward, his fingers seeking the familiar warmth of his companion. His hands ran over cool, empty sheets instead. With a small jolt, Zuko opened his eyes and scanned his surroundings, only to realize that he was the only one in his tent.

Oh no. Zuko leapt out of his cot, trailing a small tangle of blankets behind him as he stumbled groggily to the opening of the tent and thrust aside the flap. "Fire Lord Zuko!" The soldier guarding the opening blinked over at him in surprise. "You're up early. Where is..." The man trailed off as he took in the Fire Lord's panicked expression.

"Gone," Zuko barked. "Search the camp from top to bottom."

"Right away, sir." The guard hurried off, relaying the command to his fellow soldiers as he went. Zuko turned on his heel and headed back into his tent, angry at himself for letting this happen. He mentally kicked himself as he tore off his sleeping garments and began tugging on a simple tunic instead. His charge had somehow managed to escape, and he was to blame. If only he had been more careful, watched more closely...

Zuko finished putting on the tunic, then tugged on his boots and stormed out into the early morning air. He strode past the small collection of tents that made up his camp and managed to take the path leading to the nearest town without being noticed by his soldiers. Good. They would insist on escorting him to the town, and Zuko wanted to be alone for a bit. He'd see if the town's market had anything that could work to lure his lost friend back to the camp.

Zuko reached up and rubbed his scar worriedly. Hopefully the people in the town wouldn't recognize him without his Fire Lord robes and a security detail of soldiers. Remote villages rarely had paintings of him circulated, and he had yet to be photographed by those new picture machines. With a little luck, he'd be good, scar or no scar.

Before long, Zuko reached the village and was in the center of a bustling marketplace. Zuko had seriously underestimated the size of the town. The market was large and crowded, with vendors shouting out their wares from booths and carts in seemingly every direction. Hoards of shoppers clustered around the sellers, haggling for ingredients for the day's meals or household items.

Zuko followed his nose to a stand selling fresh pastries and smiled politely at the woman behind the counter "I'll take a pastry, please. You wouldn't happen to sell fire flakes as well, would you?"

"This early in the morning?" The woman behind the counter balked at him. "I suppose they'd wake you up, if that's what you're looking for. I don't have any fresh ones, but..." The lady shifted through things behind the counter before plopping a pouch of flakes in front of him, eyebrow raised. "I'll give you some of last night's batch, half off."

"Deal." Zuko handed over the money required for the transaction and grabbed his purchases. He rolled up the bag of flakes and tucked them into the sash of his tunic. Zuko absentmindedly munched on the pastry as he strolled through the winding streets of the marketplace, looking for his lost companion. Something told him that the troublemaker wasn't at the camp, and this was the only other place he could think of to search. Zuko scanned the carts and crowds of people for his lost friend for what seemed like hours, but his efforts were fruitless. Feeling dejected, Zuko turned to make his way back to camp, only to realize that he had no idea where he was. Crap. He'd taken so many turns to get where he was at, they had all muddled together in a blur.

Zuko hesitantly took a right, only to be greeted with a row of carts that looked entirely unfamiliar. Or did they? He'd been so busy looking that he hadn't paid much attention to everything else. Zuko wandered through the confusing streets of the market, figuring he'd eventually find some sort of familiar landmark or road. Zuko's frustration grew as he passed a seemingly endless array of vendors.

Zuko had just passed the same flower cart three times when he heard a familiar-sounding yelp waft from a side alley. Hoping against hope, Zuko turned between the two buildings that made up the sides of the alley and took in the scene before him. Three middle-aged men had cornered a scaly creature that was no larger than a small cat. One of the men held the animal's tail to prevent it from flying away. The poor thing was squeaking and grunting in panic, frantically beating it's red, bat-like wings in a fruitless attempt to escape.

Druk. Zuko had found what he was looking for. "Hey!" Zuko barked, creating a knife of flame in each of his hands and stepping back into a fighting stance, "Let the dragon go, and no one gets hurt."

The men froze at his shouts, and even the little dragon ceased flapping its wings and stared at him with wide eyes. "RRK!" Druk squeaked and shot towards him, only to be jerked back by the man holding his tail.

"You're kidding, right?" one of the men scoffed. "This is a dragon, the stuff of legends! I thought they'd all been wiped out years ago! D'you have any idea how much this lil' beast will fetch on the black market?"

"If it's money you want, then here." Zuko tugged his money pouch from his sash and threw it on the ground between them. A few of the gold pieces inside flew from the pouch and gleamed temptingly in the sunlight.

The man snorted. "Impressive, but that's nothing compared to what we'll be able to get from someone else."

Zuko groaned in annoyance. "Always have to take the hard way, huh?" Zuko stepped towards the men threateningly. "Last chance to give me the dragon before heads start rolling."

The man holding the dragon let out a deep, scoffing laugh. "You against the three of us? What are you, kid? Eighteen?"

"Twenty, actually," Zuko said between gritted teeth. "But enough small talk." He launched himself forward and rammed his shoulder into the belly of the man holding his dragon, scooping Druk into his chest as he did so.

The man let out a gasp and stumbled backwards, so Zuko used the moment to turn and sprint towards the opening of the alley. He'd barely taken a step before large arms circled around his waist and made him lose his footing. Zuko thrust out his arms as he fell forward to make sure he wouldn't crush Druk on contact. He landed with a grunt and kicked out at the man over him, sending a blast of fire into the thug's torso with his foot. The man yelped and scrambled back.

Zuko clambered back to his feet just in time for one of the men to grab the collar of his tunic and slam him against the wall of the alley. Zuko gagged as he was hit with the stench of sweat and putrid breath. The odor distracted him so much that he didn't have the wits to block the man's blow, and a fist slammed into his side. Zuko gasped for air, then grit his teeth and blasted a ball of fire at the man pinning him to the wall. The man loosened his grip just long enough for Zuko to slam the heel of his hand into his nose, scoop up Druk, and make a beeline for the opening of the alley. This time no one tackled him, and he managed to burst out into the marketplace and weave between the sea of customers.

After a few minutes of dodging between people, Zuko figured he'd lost them and allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. Druk climbed up from Zuko's arms and settled on his shoulders with a contented rumble. Zuko rubbed his side and winced as his fingers pressed against the sore area. "Well, I certainly hope you're happy. This is all your fault."

Druk let out an indignant squeak and gave Zuko's ear a light, irritated nip. Zuko waved Druk's snout away and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, I was taking you back to the Sun Warriors. I guess you can stay with me if you're going to be so difficult. Better than having one of the last dragons in existence running off everywhere."

"Rrrup!" Druk chirped, clearly content.

"Thanks to you, I'm also lost." Zuko looked around at the shoppers and vendors, most of them eyeing him and Druk in a kind of awed disbelief. Zuko decided it was best to keep moving before some thugs decided to take the same route as the ones he'd just left behind. Just as he was about to take a left at a fork in the marketplace's streets, Druk breathed a little lick of fire at Zuko's neck. "Ow!" Zuko reached up and rubbed his neck. "What's your problem?"

Druk grumbled and flew off of Zuko, soaring to the right and then looping around to land back on Zuko's shoulder. "So you want me to go right, huh? Guess it couldn't hurt." Zuko took a right, and the pair navigated the market in this manner until they were on the road outside of the city.

"Thanks, buddy." Zuko reached into the bag tucked in his sash and grabbed a fire flake. He flicked it upwards with his thumb, and Druk caught it in his mouth. "Let's go tell everyone we're heading back to the palace. If you want to be with me all that bad, then maybe it's meant to be." Druk released a throaty, contented chirp before climbing back down from Zuko's shoulder and nestling in his arms. Before long, he was asleep, little curls of smoke wafting from his nostrils on every exhale.

Zuko couldn't help but smile as he made his way back to the camp. Today had proved something he had discovered long ago: in order to find your way, sometimes you had to get a little lost.