Because I thought I should put the Avatar fans in a Halloween mood :)

Much thanks to lorelessbison, for the inspiration, editing, and great ideas!


He was sprinting down a long hall, footsteps nearly nonexistent. He felt his palms sweat through the gloves clenching the swords, as pure adrenaline and fear propelled him on. He was a shadow, unseen, untouchable, flying across dark stone walls.

He reached what he'd been looking; the tall, metal door beckoning to him, with his victory prize inside. He pushed the door aside and stepped into the dark room. A single beam of light from the hallway behind him burst through and illuminated what was hidden.

But someone else was waiting inside, waiting for him. A menacing figure, covered in black cloth and brandishing twin blades, horribly twisted blue face laughing at him.

He didn't flinch. This strange opponent was only an opponent, nothing more, and with this thought he spun the swords and struck at the creature. Sparks showered as the steel blades glanced against another metal, leaving long cracks in the surface, and he realized it wasn't a creature at all.

It was him.


Zuko awoke, tossing away the sheets as he gasped for air, sweat rolling down his face. It took a few minutes of heavy breathing before his mind placed him in his own room, in the palace, in the Fire Nation. Wrenching himself out of bed, he stumbled to the dresser and summoned a small flame in his palm.

In the mirror, his face was unchanged; shaggy hair, gold eyes, dark streak of a scar. There was no blue skin or curling fangs. He clenched the flame and flopped back onto the mattress, closing his burning eyes against the pillow.

There was groan to his right.

"Zuko, do you always have to be awake when I want to sleep?"

Mai sighed and rolled over. Her eyes were closed but her expression was of utmost annoyance.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Bad dream."

Her face didn't soften. He waited.

"…If I listen to the problems of your subconscious tonight, will you promise not to let them wake me up the next time?"

He rolled onto his back, studying the pattern of the ceiling.

"Mai, did you ever feel…like there's another…person…inside you?"

"For the last time: no, I'm not pregnant."

"No, no! Not like that, just…" he groped for the words to explain this to her. "like…you have another side, a side of you that you can't really control."

Mai sighed. "If this about the anger issue again, I swear—"

"No! It's not that, either! I can't—can't describe—" He turned to face her.

"It started a long time ago. The last year of the war. Zhao had captured Aang…"


She propped her elbow on the pillow. "So…you were the Blue Spirit all along, then?"

He nodded. "It was an escape. I wasn't Zuko, the banished prince, hated by his father and struggling to gain back his honor. I was…" he stared at the lines crossing his palms, "something else entirely."

Mai settled back down underneath the sheets. "Well, that made for a great late-night campfire story, but I don't get why you lied about the last part."

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

She sighed, rolling over. "The part about dropping the mask. You didn't leave it behind."

"Mai, what—"

"Oh, in the name of all the Spirits." She slid out of bed, tugging him along with her. She began to rummage through the dresser. Zuko sighed, leaning against the wall.

"Really, I don't get what you're saying, what do you mean I didn't—"

Mai straightened up, holding what she had been looking for.

It felt like Ty Lee had kicked him in the stomach.

In her hand was a blue mask, with narrow white holes for eyes, a squat nose, and lips curved into a wide, leering grin.

Slowly, he reached out until his finger brushed against the thin, painted wood. Instantly, he recoiled. It was not a dream.

"But—how…how?" He stared at Mai. "How did you get that?"

She frowned. "Zuko, it's always been here. I thought it was just some weird memento from your first festival or something."

He shook his head, eyes still wide in shock. "No, no, I dropped it in the lake, I watched it sink, I left it behind—"

Mai chuckled. "Obviously you didn't, or it wouldn't be here."

"I did, I swear did." He ran his hands through his hair. "How—how—I dropped it, I dropped it…"

She dropped the mask onto the dresser with a clatter.

"Whatever you say," she said with a yawn, climbing back into bed.