With the weight of the world on his shoulders, the banished Prince Zuko stepped beyond the threshold of the Fire Nation's capital and out of the volcano's crater. He was silent, his feet dragging as he descended down the zigzagging slope of Caldera. The ground evened out in front of him as skull-masked Fire Nation soldiers led the way to the harbor which had seemed so far away not too long ago.
He could hear the sounds of the soldiers' footsteps, both in front of him and in the rear, always in sync. Yet the most distinctive footsteps he heard, even as he and the large group of soldiers passed through the busy royal plaza, were the heavy-footed steps of his uncle. He focused on those sonorous, yet gentle rhythmic steps as an excuse to avoid the dirty looks the crowded plaza was giving him.
Their whispers sounded more like a swarm of cave-hoppers and Zuko wished more than anything to be unable to make out the words his people were saying. To think Prince Zuko would disrespect his father like that—He got what was coming to him—Look at that awful wound on his face—Why is General Iroh accompanying him?
Zuko wondered if all of them knew what they were talking about. Some of the gathered people looked familiar from the audience of the Agni Kai, but he couldn't be sure. After all, he hadn't been very focused on the crowd at hand. He hadn't heard the announcement of his banishment himself, so he was surprised to hear that many murmurs about it in the first place; it was if the whole island knew. His speaking out against the general and thus in turn his father had been labeled as an act of treason—that much he knew. Were the people of the Fire Nation so disgusted because they'd been told his actions were treasonous or was it because of something else? Did they know why he was wearing the gauze on his face? Was such a severe punishment really acceptable in the eyes of his people?
Whether his people knew the reasoning behind his banishment or not, they pretended like the wound on his face had made him deaf, that their words didn't cut him deeply. Why didn't they understand he hadn't meant to disrespect his father? He'd called out the general's plan in the war room, and with good reason—it was absolutely barbaric. Zuko had thought it cruel to sacrifice the lives of so many men simply to enable an ambush. Able-bodied men who loved their country and willingly fought in the war to protect it.
And yet...
And yet, he'd been punished for it. By insulting the war general, he'd insulted his father. As if to add salt to the wound, he had refused to fight his father out of love and respect, yet his father had not returned the favor. Were his words spoken in the war room really that bad? Was this how the world was supposed to work, by selfishly reaching for every opportunity presented, regardless of whether or not that opportunity could hurt others?
If only he could take back those words. If only he could prove to his father that deep down he was Fire Lord Ozai's loyal son. But it was too late for that. They were already through the royal plaza and in the center of the harbor city.
Zuko could already see it—the small naval battleship that would be his home until he found the Avatar. Under any other circumstance, receiving such a gift from the Fire Lord would have been an honor. It would have been proof that Zuko was worthwhile, that his father was pleased with him and loved him.
He had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying openly as he and the soldiers came to a halt in front of the boarding dock. He forced himself to hold his head high and kept his hands balled into fists at his sides. All the while his arms and legs shook. Perhaps today he was a banished prince, but he would leave with dignity—he would not insult his father further. Soon, he would return with the Avatar and regain his honor.
"This is where you get off," said the captain of the soldiers, his voice booming. "Once you pass through Azulon's Gate, you won't be allowed reentry. You understand that?"
Zuko nodded firmly as he tried to ignore how uneasy that skull mask made him feel, even as his stomach did a funny little flip. The mask made the captain's face shadowy, shrouding whatever emotion the captain might have had upon his face in darkness. That was probably for the better, though. It was bad enough to hear the nasty tone in the captain's voice; he didn't need to see it on his face, too. To think that just two days ago, the sight of these soldiers had made him feel safe.
"You'll find your crew waiting for you," the captain continued. Under his breath, Zuko heard him mutter: "Poor souls."
The soldiers parted, making space for Zuko to board the ship and then circled behind him just in case their banished prince decided he wouldn't leave peacefully. Time seemed to stand still for Zuko as he remained there on the dock, unable to make his legs move.
I have to be brave, he told himself. This is my punishment and I need to accept it like a man. The longer I stay here, the longer it will take me to find the Avatar.
He took a deep, steadying breath and moved one step forward.
"Prince Zuko," came Iroh's gentle voice from behind as he placed a large hand on Zuko's shoulder. "This journey will not be forever. Someday, you will see your home again. Keep in mind that this is simply a temporary leave."
He knew his uncle was only trying to help, but that wasn't what he needed to hear. Words like that made him feel sentimental. Weak-willed. They made him want to turn around and run back to the royal palace, collapse onto his knees in front of his father and beg for forgiveness again.
Zuko jerked away from Iroh and said tersely over his shoulder, "I know that." He walked purposefully up the iron bridge and onto the deck of his new ship without looking back. Zuko had already convinced himself that setting his eyes upon the Fire Nation broke the terms of his banishment.
He waited, breath trapped in his throat, for the footsteps of his uncle to follow. It was tempting to turn his head around to make sure Iroh hadn't changed his mind, but he resisted. Even if his uncle had changed his mind, nothing else would change. He would still find and capture the Avatar. He would regain his honor, with or without help.
But that determination didn't stop Zuko from breathing out a quiet sigh of relief when he heard those heavy, familiar footsteps. Then his breath nearly hitched again when he realized the Fire Nation soldiers hadn't left yet.
They're going to make sure I really do leave, he thought bitterly. They didn't trust him.
A group of roughly twenty men appeared from beneath the deck—his crew. Zuko looked at them, studying them, trying to imagine himself being with these men for the next few weeks of his life. His first impression was that they were old. The youngest crew member on that ship couldn't have been any younger than forty. However, Zuko knew that with age came both experience and strength, so there was nothing to complain about.
Besides, he wasn't on this ship to make friends. He was there to find the Avatar. Apart from that goal, he highly doubted he had anything else in common with them.
"Allow me to make the introductions," said Iroh. His charisma seemed to attract the attention of not only the ship's crew, but of the Fire Nation soldiers as well. "I recognize many of you from my time as a general," he continued, an odd kind of sad smile on his face.
This was apparently true as the majority of the men nodded in agreement. Iroh arranged the crew into a single file line and one by one led them up to Zuko. Each crew member was asked to state his name, his job on the ship, talk a bit about his family and offer up his favorite color and his tea preferences.
Zuko only paid attention to their names and jobs, his mouth set in a stony frown as crew member after crew member seemed to give their life story. He had no idea why his uncle was treating this as a vacation. In case Iroh hadn't noticed, the ship wasn't going to Ember Island. It wasn't even going to be returning to the Fire Nation for weeks. Everyone on the ship would be at sea. The only other Fire Nation members they might see would be those from the colonies in the Earth Kingdom.
When the last member of the crew finished up with an exclamation that his favorite color was ruby red, Zuko tried not to roll his eyes. He turned to head to the helm so he, his uncle and the helmsman could chart out a course, but Iroh placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"We're not finished yet, Prince Zuko. I believe it is my turn." Despite how serious the words themselves sounded, the smile on Iroh's face was surprisingly gentle, even as he cast a glance at the guards still on land.
Zuko stared up at his uncle, absolutely flabbergasted. "What?"
Iroh cleared his throat and folded his hands behind his back. "My name is Iroh, though some like to call me the Dragon of the West. As most of you are aware, I have retired from my job as general, so no formal title will be necessary. My new job is to accompany my nephew on his journey to find the Avatar."
By that point, Zuko wanted to slam his face into the ship's bowsprit in sheer frustration. He knew who Iroh was. Everyone on the ship knew who Iroh was or had at least head of him. Everyone in the entire Fire Nation knew who he was!
"Uncle, we're wasting time," said Zuko, his voice anxious.
"Prince Zuko, patience is something we will all need to have. The Avatar has been missing for nearly a hundred years; I am sure he won't mind waiting a few more minutes before we set off." He cleared his throat.
Zuko crossed his arms firmly over his chest and stared aside, careful to avoid the direction of the soldiers circled around the boarding dock.
"Where was I...? Ah, yes," continued Iroh. "At the moment, my family consists of my brother Fire Lord Ozai, my niece Princess Azula and my nephew here, Prince Zuko. My favorite color... I believe that may be a tough one. I am very fond of the color beige right now... And as for my tea preferences... I like my tea to be quite hot. Ginseng is my favorite."
Zuko couldn't manage to stifle a groan as his crew murmured in approval. The more time they spent making introductions, the more time the Avatar had to reinforce his hiding spot. Or worse, grow too old and die. If the Avatar died for any reason, Zuko would have to begin his search all over again. The Avatar would be born into either the Northern or Southern Water Tribe. The Southern Water Tribe would be easy enough to infiltrate to capture the Avatar, but getting into the Northern Water Tribe would be nearly impossible. Zuko's only hope was that the Avatar lived long enough for him to capture and give him to his Father.
"Are we done now?" Zuko asked as he faced his uncle again, unable to hide the impatience in his voice. He felt antsy and there was a tight feeling in his chest. If they could just start the journey, he was positive he would feel better.
Unfortunately, the crew and Iroh all looked at him. Iroh's personality had already infected the morale of the ship. Zuko sighed and resigned himself to introducing himself to everyone on board. Whatever made them happy enough to lift the anchors and get going. The Fire Nation soldiers still hadn't left, either.
"My name is Zuko, former Crown Prince of the Fire Nation." Saying 'former' Crown Prince felt like a sharp jab in the gut. "My job on this ship is to direct all of you and to find the Avatar. Uncle already talked about my family so it doesn't matter."
He looked at the crew and his uncle, all of whom still looked expectant. With his hands balled into even tighter fists at his side, he forced out the rest of his introduction. "My favorite color is gold and I don't like tea." He pointed to the helmsman of the ship. "Now can we please chart a course?"
"Don't like tea?" Iroh repeated. He sounded absolutely mortified.
The helmsman, despite his apparent irritation at Zuko's impatience, nodded his head anyway. He turned toward the helm and beckoned for Zuko and Iroh to follow him into the small, lantern lit command tower. In mere seconds, Zuko was at the helmsman's heels.
"Get back to work, everyone else," he called over his shoulder. "And lift the anchor! I'll have our first destination in mind before we pass through Azulon's Gate."
At first, no one moved. It wasn't until Iroh gave them a quick pleading stare that they scattered and returned to their jobs. Thankfully, Zuko didn't seem to mind—or perhaps he hadn't noticed—the short delay between his orders and the crew taking action.
"So, Prince Zuko," said Iroh as he finally approached. "Where to first?"
The helmsman silently handed Zuko a map of the world, something that would soon find itself covered in Xs. Zuko pored over the map, staring at it so intensely that it seemed to be in danger of bursting into flames. Yet somehow, Zuko was able to maintain his inner fire and, after a few brief moments, jabbed his index finger northwest of the Fire Nation.
The ship shook suddenly as the anchor was raised. The helmsman took the wheel and just moments later, the ship lurched forward toward Azulon's Gate. Though it was a distant sound, Zuko could hear the guards finally leaving the harbor; knowing they were gone filled him with a strange kind of relief.
"We'll begin at the Western Air Temple," he said as confidently as he could manage. "It's as good as any other place to start."
"It's also the closest," said the helmsman.
The flames inside the lanterns in the room suddenly intensified. "Are you calling me lazy?"
"Now, Prince Zuko," said Iroh quietly, "I am sure he is just stating a fact."
"He better be," was Zuko's sharp reply. The flames returned to their normal height. Through the windows in the command tower, the pillars of Azulon's Gate passed by. Just a few more seconds and he would be out of Fire Nation land. At least he would still be in Fire Nation territory, though he knew that wouldn't be the case for long.
"I've decided our destination," Zuko announced, his voice loud as he stomped out of the command tower and toward the center of the ship. "We're going to the Western Air Temple! If he isn't there, we'll head southeast to the Southern Air Temple! If he isn't there either, we'll have to stop by an Earth Kingdom colony to replenish our supply of coal." With an expression he hoped was that of someone in control, he craned his head to look back at the helmsman. "Got that?"
"Got it," the helmsman muttered.
"Uncle," said Zuko suddenly. "Show me to my cabin."
"Yes, Prince Zuko. But you should know that I feel it would be wise to check your injury before settling in. It has only been two days since the incident and your bandages have not been changed since yesterday morning."
With a huff, Zuko forced out a "Fine," and followed Iroh back into the command tower and up two flights of stairs.