Avatar the Last Airbender © Viacom

/ / e m p t i n e s s .

"Adolescents swing from euphoric self-confidence and a kind of narcissistic strength in which they feel invulnerable and even immortal, to despair, self-emptiness, self-deprecation."

Zuko was scared, though not for the first time in his life. What made this time different was that he couldn't risk the company of his ever-comforting inner fire. If he or the smoke of that constant companion were to be spotted, he would be killed on sight. Tomorrow morning, when he revealed himself to the likewise on-the-run band of teens in the nearby abandoned temple, would be his judgement day.

So tonight, he would be alone. Completely.

Though it wasn't the threat of death - by his own people or at the hands of the selfsame band of teens - that terrified him. He had accepted Death's presence long ago as yet another constant companion, as ever-burning as the fire in his soul. What frightened him was instead twice as frightening in how foreign it was to him. This fear did not have a face, as it had in his past: not the face of his mother as she embraced him, tears staining her cheeks. Not the satisfied countenance of his father as the Fire Lord's searing flame crawled over Zuko's face. Nor was it the broken look on Uncle's already war-worn face as he lost yet another son, nor the pain in the eyes of the Water Tribe girl who had so readily accepted him. It wasn't even the sadistic, bone-chilling grin that his sister so often wore.

Tonight he would have preferred any of those images, despite the fact that they had long ago stolen the thin happiness in which he had once cloaked himself. Tonight, it was the very emptiness around him that stole sleep from him.

There was a good chance the Avatar and his friends, the very people he'd tried to kill more times than there were stars in the sky, would not accept him. That his only chance to save his country would be taken from him. What, after all could one lone Firebender do? What could he live for; strive for? He'd lost his home, his throne, his country, and finally, his last bit of family. No, worse - he had thrown away the closest thing he had ever had to family. He chased away anyone who so much as attempted to show any sort of compassion to him.

Were the roles reversed, Agni knows he would never forgive someone who did that to him.

So he stood on shaking legs in the darkness beyond his camp, next to the creek. He stared down into the water and a scarred, ever-changing face that he scarcely recognized seemed to ask him for answers in the moonlit reflection. However, it was neither the first, nor would it be the last time in his life that he didn't have the answers he needed - that he craved.

Thank you for reading!

And a very big thank you to my betas Tygerwulfe and Kiyamasho for helping me refine this story.

Reviews would be appreciated, just so I can improve and entertain you better.

- c.e. abyss