Avatar: The Last Airbender Created By: Michael Dante DiMartino, Bryan Konietzko
Avatar: The Last Airbender Owned By: Nickelodeon, a subsidiary of Viacom
All original content and characters © Acastus


Chapter I – The Orchard

Iroh stood up and wiped his sweaty brow with a rag. It was nearly sunset as he looked out over the orchard. The other day laborers were picking their last peaches and organizing their baskets to be counted. It had been many a year since he had asked his body to engage in such physical activity, and he would pay for it tomorrow. For the moment, however, he simply stank of hard work and the green earth.

Footsteps from behind alerted him to the presence of his nephew, "Here, uncle, I've finished three more."

Iroh stepped lightly out of the way as the banished Prince dropped three full baskets of peaches, one stacked on top of the other, next to the others they had collected.

"Excellent! Let's count up and see what we have." Iroh quickly summed up the baskets in front of them. "These plus the ones we gave to the Overseer this morning should give us almost two gold pieces. That should be enough for us to move on to someplace where we can relax for a while."

"How do you figure that, my corpulent friend?" came a smooth voice from behind them. "By my calculation you're due a total of nine silver pieces."

Iroh and Zuko turned to locate the source of the hated voice. They had known the Overseer less than three days and even Iroh had come to hate him. His long, angular nose and piercing, hawk like eyes seemed to be on everyone at once. He never spoke except to demean, and never acted if not to cheat, abuse or humiliate. The day before he had beaten a laborer with a whip and thrown him off the estate for accidentally dropping a basket of peaches into the pond.

"What do you mean?" growled Zuko. "We handed in 41 baskets this morning and we have, uh… how many do we have here, uncle?"

"We have 36 more, and some of them are those tart yellow ones that are everyone's favorite!"

The Overseer's eyes locked with Zuko's and a cruel grin spread over his face, he motioned to one of the two large men behind him, "Jin, the book. Now." The muscular mute handed over a small leather book which the Overseer opened without examining, instead keeping his gaze on Zuko.

"My records say you only handed in 28, and receiving says here that 11 of those were bruised." He snapped the book shut for emphasis. "So sorry, gutter filth, but we're not paying for fruit we can't sell. That's means you –"

Zuko's knuckles connected with the Overseer's face before Iroh or the bodyguards could react. With a cry his other fist connected with the Overseer's neck. Iroh rushed forward, shouting, "No, nephew, stop! Stop!" Staggering backwards the cruel man collapsed to his knees as his bodyguards rushed forward to engage the banished Prince.

"Get them! Get them you fools! Don't kill them, I want them alive!" screamed the Overseer, still struggling to regain his breath.

The mute guard launched a clumsy fist at Zuko, but was easily blocked as the Prince grabbed his assailant by the wrist. A quick twist followed by a sickening snap was enough to drop the mute to his knees in silent agony, tears streaming down his face. Zuko then turned to his other opponent, only to see Iroh, in a move far more graceful than his form seemed to allow, flip the man over his shoulder and knock him out with a palm blow to the forehead. Iroh straightened up once again, his work done for the second time that day and turned to his nephew.

"This was not wise."

"I don't care – and I'm not done either." replied Zuko, fire still in his voice as he turned to where the Overseer had fallen.

A quick scan of the trees and the upward slope on which they grew revealed nothing. The Overseer had beaten a hasty retreat. Around the pair, a small group of onlookers was quickly gathering. Some gazed with wonder and fear at the fallen tormentors, others looked with amazement or anger at the Fire Nation exiles. One of the laborers, a middle aged man with several missing teeth, approached them.

"You two had better go before this crowd decides to turn ya in."

"Why would they do that?" asked Zuko incredulously, "We just punished the people who lie and cheat them everyday."

Scratching his sideburn the onlooker replied, "Every one of us has wanted to do what ya done here, but we'll all pay for it too. That bastard'll be back with more guards. So, I'd say you should forget about what you're owed and leave now before these people here decide to turn y'all in."

Iroh bowed in response, saying, "Thank you for your wisdom, friend." Then, grabbing Zuko by the arm, "Let's go – now."

The pair fled the orchard, leaving behind the incapacitated guards and the angry, fearful crowd of the powerless. Twilight was upon them by the time they reached the road at the edge of the estate. Iroh leaned against a tree upon gaining the road, breathing heavily with the exertion. Zuko appeared next and sat down heavily on the side of the road.

"I'm sorry, uncle. Attacking that fool wasn't worth endangering us – and those peasants weren't worth saving."

Regaining his breath, Iroh replied, "Those people live without hope, Prince Zuko. As low as you have fallen, you have always had hope. Do not be so eager to judge." The retired general then turned and walked past Zuko without looking at him, "We must keep going. The Overseer is a vengeful man and will pursue us."

Zuko, now walking beside him sneered, "Let him come. Alone on this road I will burn him alive and laugh."

"I see you haven't learned the value of temperance, nephew."

"And you are too soft, uncle!" Replied Zuko hotly, fixing his uncle with a hard glance from his maimed eye, "How can you bear this humiliation day after day with that ridiculous smile plastered on your face? We are royalty and yet we have become beggars and day laborers. I was to become Fire Lord, and now I am little better than the slaves we just left! It isn't fair."

Zuko's voice trailed away as he spoke, his anger turning to depression and self pity.

"Life isn't fair, Prince Zuko. I know this – better than you."

The two moved quickly along the road in silence. Twilight descended rapidly into night, and soon a waxing moon appeared over the horizon. Clear and bright, the pale orb cast its ghostly pallor across the uneven surface of the dirt road before them. Ahead they spied a bend in the road and heard the sound of rushing water beyond it. Behind them another bend in the road obscured the way they had come.

As they approached the water, another sound caused them to stop their jog mid step. Straining to identify the source, the ground began to vibrate slightly.

"Horses, uncle! From behind!"

"Hide – quickly."

Both disappeared into the brush beside the road a moment before a barouche carriage rounded the bend behind them. Pulled by four ostrich horses, the carriage itself was decorated richly with ornate, black lacquered wood and gold leaf. Dangling from its roof were two, intricately carved lanterns that glowed brightly from within. As Iroh and Zuko lay flat on the ground by the roadside they were unable to see the driver or the occupants, but it was clear that even the wheels were inlaid with gold as they rolled slowly by them.

The pair sprang from their hiding places as the carriage began to turn the corner out of sight. No sooner had this happened when a loud crash was heard, followed by coarse shouting and loud curses. Iroh and Zuko cast sidelong glances at each other, then hurried forward at a run.

Charging around the bend they were greeted by a picturesque view of the ornate barouche stopped on a bridge that arched over a small, noisy brook. Its passage was blocked by a chain pulled taught across the end of the bridge. Four malevolent looking figures surrounded the carriage. One of them mounted the box as Iroh and Zuko approached and dragged down the driver, who screamed in terror. Another walked up to the door of the carriage and began to shout at it.

"Come out, you! I see you in there!"

A booming voice from inside the barouche replied, "I don't give a damn what you want, you scum –"

The voice was cut off as the scoundrel punched out the frosted glass window that served as the top half of the carriage's door. The sounds of a struggle ensued as Iroh and Zuko reached the scene. A moment later the lead scoundrel backed out of the carriage, pulling out its single occupant with him. He was easily three hundred pounds and dressed in rich clothing, outrageously colored. An enormous jewel hung from a chain around his neck and several of his fingers were festooned with rings.

"I'll have you idiots horse whipped for this!" shouted the rotund man.

The bandit cocked back his arm to aim a blow at his defiant target, but it was never thrown. For the second time that day, Zuko's knuckles connected solidly against another man's face. The scoundrel's head snapped back at the impact and he lurched drunkenly against the side of the barouche. Another drew a short sword and lunged at Iroh, but the retired general took the sword with ease and casually stabbed his assailant in the hand. With that, the melee was over almost as soon as it had begun. Cursing loudly and screaming in pain, the shadowy men ran headlong into the forest beside the road.

Iroh walked over and helped the driver to his feet, who though clearly shaken, was unhurt. Zuko removed the chain blocking the path of the carriage, then returned to stand by his uncle.

Booming laughter was heard as the fat man addressed them, "Well met, friends!" The traveler walked over and bowed low to the exiles, "I am Trimazu, the merchant! Thank you both for helping me out against that fascist scum!" As he brushed off his robe he continued, "Ha! Fifty gold pieces says they were Fire Nation, too. They're all fascist!"

Iroh coughed, and, after stealing a sidelong glance at his fuming nephew, replied, "You are most welcome, sir."

After straightening his robe, Trimazu examined his newfound acquaintances with a practiced eye. Suddenly he leaned forward and sniffed.

"Whew! Yeh, you two stink like an outhouse! Day laborers right?" Before they could answer he continued, his voice animated and bursting with both arrogance and mischief, "Excellent! Excellent! As a further token of my generosity, how would your stomachs feel about partaking in the Planter's Moon feast I am throwing tonight?"

"No, thank you. I'm afraid our journey will not wait," came Zuko's icy reply. He turned to leave, but was stopped by Iroh's hand on his shoulder.

"Feast?" Grinning widely, Iroh, with a low bow of his own, continued smoothly, "We would be delighted to accept your generous offer, Lord."

"Lord? Well, you're welcome any time you like! Now get in. You're going to have the best night of your lives! My parties are always the best and the entertainment? Oh the entertainment! The feasts at my abode are the stuff of legend from Ogasawara to Guangzhu! Come friends! Get in!"

Sighing audibly, Zuko boarded the carriage, his uncle close behind. Trimazu boarded last, and with a final shouted instruction to the driver, the carriage barreled once again down the moonlit road.