Chapter 1
Lush chocolate tresses trailed sinuously down Katara's back as she gathered firewood for the group's campsite. Aang and Sokka were off on the other side of the island, gathering berries to go along with the dinner that they had planned for that evening. Katara was wearing her usual outfit, a blue kimono with lighter blue trim, which she raised to avoid staining the cloth. Alone in the forest, Katara felt like she was being watched, but dismissed the feeling because they hadn't seen anyone else on the island earlier, when they had scouted it out on Appa.
The island was closer to the borders of the Fire Nation than she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. They were tired, and the small unchartered island was the first they had come across in several hours. Besides, they only planned to stay for a night or so. With no one on the island, it wasn't likely that they'd be discovered. Still, Katara knew that they would have to be careful not to be visible from the shoreline.
She raised her startlingly clear aquamarine blue eyes to the sunset, the molten hues of pink, purple, red, and gold mixing and shining on her eyes, changing the color to reflect those of the setting sun. It was getting late and Katara knew that she would have to head back to camp soon, or else Sokka and Aang would be worried about her. Clutching the bundle of sticks to her kimono-clad chest, Katara looked around her, trying to remember where they'd made camp only hours before. After a few minutes, she realized that she hadn't the faintest notion of where they might have been.
Desperate, Katara called out, "Aang? Sokka? GUYS??? Where are you???!" Hearing no response, Katara decided to try and find them, running out into the forest blindly.
Earlier that morning, the prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko, sat restlessly on his large bed made out of an exotic dark cherry wood, its sheets silken and of a crimson hue. The headboard was carved with intricate pictures of scenes with the gods and goddesses (like the Greek myths), stories which Zuko was particularly fond of because of his love of reading. Despite what most people saw of him, there was a sweet, sensitive side of Zuko which could only be brought out by the people he was closest to, like Uncle Iroh.
The rest of his room was fairly large, painted a deep maroon color which brought out the passionate colors of his bed, all of which resembling the color of his element, fire. He kept the room fairly bare, excepting his luxurious bed and an ornately carved desk which he kept beside his bed for important matters of the Fire Nation that he was responsible for. Despite the ire of his father, Zuko had still inherited some responsibility for his country. He was in charge of much of the nation's international affairs, which made sense considering that he resided on a large Fire Nation vessel, and travelled extensively while hunting the avatar.
Zuko stared intently at the painted ceiling, molten eyes not registering the delicate strokes which had so beautifully crafted the many humanoid figures which adorned his ceiling. He was restless. This was mainly due to the fact that he hadn't heard any word about the avatar in the last few days, except for a rumor that the group was nearing the borders of the Fire Nation, which worried Zuko.
After a few more minutes of staring at his painted ceiling, Zuko decided that he would be better off training until more word of the Avatar arrived. Having made this decision, Zuko slowly rolled up on his bed, toned muscles contracting as he sat up. He stretched his tanned arms out to his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists. Springing from his bed, Zuko opened his heavy wooden closet door, selecting an outfit and dressing gracefully. He donned his usual red tunic over a black under-outfit and stepped into sturdy crimson boots that went up to just below his knees. Not bothering to brush his shaggy ebony black hair out of his golden eyes, Zuko made his way to the smaller ships in the storage of his vessel, that were meant for going ashore.
There was a small island nearby that Zuko knew of. It was not well known, uncharted if he had heard correctly, and was unnamed. It would be the perfect place to keep his mind occupied—a place where he could train in seclusion and not be bothered. Zuko lowered the small vessel into the water and climbed down the shining metallic ladder which led down to the water, finally allowing him to climb into the boat. He grasped the oars and began rowing, setting off for the island. His arms made broad sweeping movements, controlling the oars of the boat quickly and efficiently, propelling the prince towards the coast of the unnamed island.
When his boat touched the unmarred sandy coast of the island, Zuko jumped out into the water, pulling his craft further inland. Once he had secured it out of the reach of the tide, Zuko made his way towards the tree line, wanting to find a secluded place to train.
Katara bent over wheezing, having run without pause for several minutes. The sticks she had gathered clattered to the ground. She gasped. The scent of smoke invaded her nostrils. In the clearing before her, the prince of the fire nation moved, working through a sequence of techniques, his movements controlled. Quickly, Katara crouched down, hiding herself behind the foliage of the forest, her crystalline eyes locked on his form, so careful in his movements, a look of concentration on his pale face. Golden eyes seemed glazed as he moved, which worked to Katara's favor as he was less likely to notice her creep away. She had to get to Aang and Sokka, she knew. She had to warn them, but her gaze was transfixed on the man before her, on his tense muscles, the fire swirling around him, his molten eyes fixed on her hiding place.