Chapter 1: Over the Deep
Part 1: The Changing Wind
Thick clouds soared across the moonless night sky. Small gaps in the haze offered glimpses of stars, which glimmered dimly in the darkness. Their faint light shone down on the midnight blue waves that lapped against the black metal sides of the Fire Navy ship anchored in a small, sheltered cove on the western coast of the Earth Kingdom. The cove was near the middle of the planet and a warm, dry breeze flowed over the ship, coming from the vast desert laying only a few li inland. It was only early spring but the night would have been called hot by anyone unused to the sun-baked regions around the equator of the world.
A sudden gust of parched air from the mainland sent the crimson pennant at the apex of the ship's tower fluttering, pointing the tip of the banner out to sea.
The silk fabric snapped quietly in the wind.
The faint sound drew momentary consideration from a handful of guards and crewmen patrolling the deck but they were quick to disregard the faint land breeze and turn their attention elsewhere. A skeleton night watch for a vessel anchored along a desolate coast known for its lack of population.
The Fire Navy had abandoned the use of wind to drive their ships in favor of coal more than a century before. It was because of this that the sailors did not notice a critical error in the pattern of the wind. Any man or woman accustomed to using the power of air and sail could have told them the problem. That wind only comes from land during the day; at night the breeze should come from the sea!
The strange wind was a testament to the growing chaos of the interconnected world. An Air Nomad parable from before the Great War stated:
A sky bison swinging its tail over the southern air temple can cause a hurricane at the North Pole.
Each of the other three nations has their own version of this allegory but the meanings were the same; small changes in one place can reverberate and have immense effects at another, seemingly unrelated, location.
Everything is connected, and a massive bison had just swung its tail.
Everything is connected…
Part 2: The Hunter and The Maiden
Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation, son of Ozai and Ursa, brother to Azula and would-be heir to the imperial throne, turned over in his bunk as a breath of hot wind wafted through his cabin. The young prince groaned and shut his eyes tightly, trying in vain to will himself into sleep. It was not the heat that bothered him; he had been raised on the tropical islands of the fire nation and felt more at home in the furnace of his native element than anywhere else. No, it was something else that kept Zuko awake.
This Agni-cursed quest and the thrice Agni-cursed Avatar! Zuko thought. Damn them! When will this all be over?
With a sound between a sigh and a growl Zuko threw off the blankets and climbed to his feet. Wearing only a pair of loose fitting sleeping trousers, he was bare to the waist. His torso was well muscled. Not styled in the bulging, oversized mass of an earthbender or the smooth, sleek form of a waterbender, he was somewhere in between. His muscles were hard and well-formed by constant training, standing out in frightening definition. His build was such that he was slender and powerful all at once. Standing in the cabin with the cold starlight shining on his pale skin he seemed to be carved from iron, hard and unyielding; a fighter, burning from the inside with a great power waiting to be unleashed.
Another gust of wind rustled his black topknot and Zuko reached back to smooth the sleep tousled hair. He rarely untied it now, leaving the binding in place as a constant reminder of his bond to his family…and to his honor.
Zuko snarled in anger before his mind could turn to those…unhappy…memories and ignited a small flame in his right hand, an orange plume suspended above his palm. With the increased light he glared around the room. His eyes passed over a small table to one side, an iron-bound chest and a desk piled with maps and documents. Zuko's gaze lingered on the pair of dao broadswords set in brackets on the wall, and again on a simple wall hanging depicting the Fire Nation crest. New memories battling the old…
The young prince shook his head to clear it. Now that he was standing he was not sure why he had risen in the first place. Zuko had raised his left hand to rub the sleep from his eyes and his fingers passed across the ruined skin around his left eye. He stroked the scar lightly with his fingertips as a mournful expression crossed his face, his mouth slackening into a frown and his golden eyes wilting with a sorrow beyond their years. He could only feel the strongest touches there, now, and his light fingertips did not even register, as if they were touching the face of someone else. A deep sigh swelled in the banished prince's chest. He had been handsome before. He had heard some of the girls at court whispering about him when they thought he wasn't listening. It had been nice, for once, to stand out and be noticed for something good. But all that was gone. He was marked now, damaged.
The glow from the flame bathed his scar in flickering golden light.
Zuko clenched his fist to extinguish the tiny plume of fire and shook his head again to clear away the black thoughts. It wasn't time for that. Not now. Not ever. He would capture the Avatar and he would restore his honor and win back his father's love. He had to.
Prince Zuko turned back to his bunk stifling a yawn and crawled in, pulling the covers over him. Tomorrow was another chance to find the airbender and his companions. He would need his rest and dawn could only be a few hours off.
"A good general knows that sleep can be the difference between victory and defeat," he could hear his uncle Iroh saying "A well rested army can beat a fatigued enemy force many times their size. Remember the old lion-wolf escaping the pack of jackal-boars…"
With his uncle's half remembered lesson droning in his ear, Prince Zuko drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
If the moon had hung in the night sky, it would have been well past its apex and already descending towards the dark horizon when a shadow climbed over the side of the ship. A slight figure concealed by a hooded cloak slid over the deck railing and darted into the deep shadows below the tower before the patrolling guards could take notice. The cloaked shape crouched in the darkness for several heartbeats, enough time for the watchmen to pass by on their rounds. Once the sentinels had passed out of earshot, the anonymous invader pulled a small waterskin from under the cloak and drew out a silvery strand of water. The waterbender twirled the clear liquid off to one side while replacing the flask. Then, after pausing to ensure none of the guards were nearby, the stranger flattened the cord of water into a thin sheet and threw it against the wall of superstructure, freezing it into a coating of ice over the black metal.
Pausing one more time to make sure the area was truly deserted, the waterbender set their hands against the ice and began to climb. By freezing ice from the coating over their hands and feet and then releasing them one at a time to reach higher before re-freezing the appendage to the icy wall, it was possible for the waterbender to slowly and stealthily scale the sheer metal walls that would have defeated the most skilled marmot-mouse or frog-lizard.
It was slow going but before long the cloaked figure had reached the top level of the tower. Gripping the window ledge the bender took a moment to yank the water back into the flask at their waist before pulling themselves over the ledge and into the chamber beyond.
Landing in a crouch, the intruder surveyed the darkened room and let out a small sigh of relief to find it empty except for a sleeping figure on a cot against the far wall. He was lying on his side and turned away from the window, facing the wall, so it was unlikely that the intrusion would wake him. Eyes then fell across the desk piled high with papers that was set against the leftmost wall of the chamber. Straightening, the visitor reached up and pulled back the cloak's hood.
A long, dark braid tumbled out to lie across her left shoulder and bright blue eyes reflected the faint traces of starlight like the finest crystal. The fair eyes seemed in conflict with her dusky skin, but the contrast only served to enhance her beauty, adding an exotic hint to her features. The delicate features of her face were belayed by a vibrant inner strength and determination, present even here in the midst of her enemies. Creeping quietly to the desk the girl demonstrated a sleek grace unique to her kind. Her figure was lithe and streamlined, the muscles underneath smooth and toned; a body that was the result of long training in her bending art.
Reaching the desk, Katara leaned over the piled accumulation of maps and scrolls. She carefully shuffled through the pile, trying to keep the noise of rustling paper to a minimum. Most of the scrolls were reports from nearby Fire Nation outposts. Some of them were badly singed.
About halfway through the heap on the desk Katara came across a treasure. It was a detailed map of the world, showing all of the major cities and outposts as well as which side controlled each. Katara quickly rolled up the chart and stashed it inside her robe. Their own map had been lost in a windstorm after leaving Kyoshi Island and crossing the main continent would be almost impossible without knowing the local area.
She continued rifling through the pages, looking for any indication of what the firebender prince would do next, whether he had any leads on where she, Aang and Sokka were, or anything else that might help them reach the Northern Water Tribe safely.
Suddenly a gust of hot wind rushed through the open window and blew across the desk, scattering the top layer of papers. Katara stiffened and held her breath. The noise had been enough to risk waking the sleeper to her right. She bit her lip in anxiety as the Fire Nation warrior groaned and turned over in his sleep, now facing towards her. But still his eyes remained blissfully closed. Katara let out her breath in relief and laid her hand on the top of the desk to steady herself. That was too close. She looked back at the enemy sleeping on the bunk, and it was then that she noticed the patch of scarred flesh around his left eye.
It was Zuko! Katara's eyes widened as she realized her position. She had inadvertently invaded Zuko's rooms. Of course! It all made sense now that she thought about it. Who else would have such an extensive collection of reports, or have their quarters at the top of the ship; a place, she had learned, that other cultures reserved strictly for those of the highest rank.
Now Katara was worried. She had been ready to deal with a soldier or even one of the ship's firebenders but the Fire Nation Prince was another matter. This was a firebender who gave even Aang trouble. She though about leaving right then, but resisted the impulse. After coming so far it was important to finish the task. In a pocket of her robe Katara had a scroll forged to resemble an official Fire Nation summons ordering Prince Zuko home. It was a long shot but, if the plan worked, it would get rid of their pursuer and maybe help them reach the North Pole faster. In fact, when she thought about it, this could actually be for the best. Yes. What better place to put the fake scroll than in the layers of parchment on the prince's own desk? With so many different papers and reports scattered across the surface it would be understandable for Zuko to have missed one at first. And finding the order among the things on his desk would make it much more credible. This way the chances of success were much higher than she could have hoped for. Katara had just begun to reach for the counterfeit message when she hear a dull mutter to her right and froze.
Katara turned to see the firebending prince stir in his sleep. Zuko had turned onto his back and was stretching under the blankets. His breathing had picked up and he had started to murmur in his dream. Katara herself was an early riser and had become accustomed to seeing Aang and Sokka as they woke. Because of this she recognized these movements as a sign that Zuko was about to wake up. Katara inhaled sharply and whispered a frantic plea to the moon and ocean spirits that the firebender would just turn over and stay asleep. To her dismay they did not seem to hear her prayer. The murmuring crept louder while the prince's breathing sped up and his eyes began to flicker. Without a doubt Prince Zuko would be awake in a few moments and Katara was still standing by the desk, only a few steps away.
Katara had to make a choice. She could probably make it to the window before Zuko woke up, but there would be no time to leave the scroll. Or conceal the fact that his papers had been rifled through. And, if he should think something was amiss and came to the window before she had finished climbing down, there was no doubt that Zuko would spot her. Then her cover would be blown and she would have the entire crew in pursuit. No, Katara decided; that was too much of a risk. She quickly uncapped the waterskin and drew out its contents. If she could surprise Zuko as he came awake she could trap him in the bunk and knock him out. Then she would have enough time to fix the papers, insert the fake scroll and escape. She would also have to take something valuable and throw it overboard so that he would think the break-in was nothing more than a robbery. She had seen a set of elaborate statuettes by the window that would work.
Walking slowly to the bed Katara twirled the water and separated it into a smaller and larger part. The larger part she melded into a simple water-whip to immobilize and knock out the firebender. The smaller part she froze into an ice-dagger which she held in her right hand. If Zuko woke up before she started the dagger would be the first thing he would see; he would be focused on defending against that while she brought the water-whip in to disable him.
Katara reached the bed and took a deep breath.
You can do this, she told herself, it will only take a second. It'll be over before he knows what's happening. Plus, he'll be sleepy; if it takes Sokka a half-hour just to get out of his sleeping bundle, how can Zuko stop an attack when he's just woken up? You'll be fine, just do it.
As she looked down on the sleeping Fire Prince Katara hesitated for a moment. He looks so peaceful, she thought, As if he's a boy like any other and not the prince of the Fire Nation. And his scar…While he's asleep it makes him seem almost…sad and alone, not evil or vicious.
The moment drew out. Katara looked down at the boy lying in front of her and felt a moment of connection with the sleeping firebender. He was no longer one of the soldiers who had killed her mother and divided her family. Instead Zuko seemed like a lost soul cast adrift. For that instant Katara saw a sorrowing and abandoned young man hidden away beneath a twisted outer shell of bitterness and isolation. It all seemed to happen so quickly, but at that moment his emotions and motives were as clear to her as if they had been her own, as if his soul had reached out in a plea for understanding. In that crystal clear moment everything made sense. In that moment Katara hesitated.
That hesitation cost her dearly.
Zuko's eyes snapped open. Katara blinked in shock. It was so abrupt! She brandished the ice-dagger in the air over the prince's neck, menacing him with it, while she started to bring up the water-whip as quickly as she could.
But Zuko moved faster than she would have thought possible, even for someone fully awake. Like a striking snake his hands darted up for the ice-dagger and Katara reacted instinctively, swinging the razor-sharp ice down at the firebender in self-defense. Zuko was ready for this, though, gripping her wrist in his left hand and seizing her grasp on the dagger with his right. He wasn't fast enough to escape the blow entirely and the tip of the dagger cut into the skin over his left collarbone. The dagger left behind a thin but deep near-horizontal gash about a forefinger long that sloped slightly down towards the center of his chest.
With the dagger stopped Zuko was out of immediate danger and swiftly counterattacked. Twisting Katara's wrist with his left hand to break her grip on the dagger he shunted heat into his right hand which he then slid down to grasp the ice-dagger. Against the greatly increased the skin temperature of his right hand the ice-dagger melted into nothing.
Then, seeing a blur of movement in the corner of his eye, Zuko swung onto his right elbow while bending his knees and bringing his feet halfway up the bunk to kick off and leap into the air. As he shot up Zuko spun towards the waterbender, the source of the movement. He clearly saw the water-whip being swung towards him in a long uppercut and his eyes locked with Katara's. Both sets narrowed in confrontation and time slowed down, Zuko seeming to hang in midair, Katara smoothly following through the motion that would send the rope of water crashing into the Banished Prince.
In that instant, with eyes locked, Zuko made his move. He half-kicked with his right leg and an arc of fire burst out and shot towards the incoming water-whip. In an instant the fire tore through the water, exploding it into a cloud of steam. Zuko landed in a crouch back on the cot less than two heartbeats after first leaping into the air.
Eyes turned upwards he jumped down to the floor and quickly grabbed the now powerless waterbender and pulled her towards him, operating on automatic self-defense. He had intended to turn her around to face away from him and then lock her arms at her sides by crossing his own arms across her chest and grasping her elbows. Unfortunately for Zuko it didn't work that way. Katara fought back, twisting against him and sending the pair tumbling back onto the cot. Zuko landed on his back with Katara sprawled on top of him, grabbing at his wrists to keep him from reaching her. Zuko twisted his wrists, trying to get free, and slid them out of Katara's grip only for their hands to inadvertently lock together.
Neither of them held the upper hand. Zuko was stronger but was pinned down by Katara, who was able to use her higher position as an advantage. It was then that their eyes met again, but differently than before. Gone was the outright lethality and aggression, leaving behind an emotional void that had yet to be filled.
Deep blue met molten gold. And with that the struggle and conflict leaked out of the two benders. In a moment similar to what Katara had experience while looking at Zuko as he slept, emotions connected and for a single, perfect instant everything else ceased to matter.
Neither of them knew who moved first, only that all of a sudden they were moving. Just as Katara leaned down, Zuko stretched up. Their lips met and suddenly they were kissing. Their eyes had closed, but the crystal connection remained through their intertwined fingers and brushing lips. It was not a kiss brought through lust or even love, in the typical sense, but more an extraordinary moment which arose from a sudden and inimitable link between two beings as they met and slid together as surely as two pieces of a puzzle.
As suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended. The two broke apart and their hands dropped, falling away from each other. Katara and Zuko were both flushed from the encounter and continued to stare at each other for several heartbeats in unvoiced surprise and uncertainty. Katara was the first to move. Blushing slightly, she climbed down from the bed and walked to the window with smooth, measured steps. Zuko turned onto his side to watch her leave. Pausing for one final backwards glance Katara stepped up onto the window ledge and, surveying the expanse of open air below her, made the dangerous leap out from the ship. She plummeted down and outwards, clearing the outer railing of the deck and plunging into the indigo water, using her waterbending to ease the passage. Then, as the guards rushed to see the cause of the splash, Katara dove down and spun the dark water behind her, propelling her away from the ship and towards the shore, the scroll still in the pocket of her robe. Zuko faintly heard the splash and the cries of the crewmen and laid back against the pillow on his bed. He pulled the blankets over him and by the time they had reached his chest Zuko's head had tilted back and he fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke the next morning Zuko would have thought it all a dream if not for the deep, slightly angled cut across his left collarbone.