Disclaimer: ATLA and LOK and all characters therein are not mine.


A Change in the Wind

VII. The Heat of those Flames

Korra squinted up at the bright sun, but she lowered her gaze a moment later to survey the sandy crescent of shore that lined Kyoshi Island's bay. It was certainly large enough to be suitable for this exercise, and she checked the knots on her hand wraps and brushed an errant grain of sand off her bare stomach before she remarked, seemingly to no one in particular, "We're good, right?"

Suki, similarly attired with loose pants and bare feet, scratched bashfully at the back of her head. "Y-Yeah. I'm…really sorry about yesterday, Avatar. I don't really know what came over me."

The Water Tribe girl shrugged ambivalently. "You and Sokka seemed to hit it off well enough at the feast, after all, so…no harm, no foul. And besides," she added with a bit of a grin, "I thought I told you to just call me Korra."

Suki smiled at that, and she grasped the other girl's arm in a brief warrior's handshake.

Korra stepped closer to the lapping tides, and with a decisive gesture, she called the water up higher, thoroughly saturating the majority of the beach and transforming the soft, giving mounds into a firm, flat surface. She dismissed the water again, pacing around in the new environment, and at length, she settled her hands on her hips and nodded. "Yep, I think this'll do," she declared, and then she glanced at her friends. "Like we discussed, eh? Whoever's up first, come at me!"

Katara answered the challenge, and she immediately pulled a water whip from the ocean and sent it snapping at the Avatar; Korra batted it aside with her own whip, abandoning that element in the next instant in favor of focusing on the gritty earth beneath them. She spiked the sand beneath the other girl's feet, launching the ground upwards, but Katara seemed agreeably prepared for that, as she reshaped and froze her water whip while she was still in mid-air so that she could slide to safety.

But Korra was already launching a fresh assault—clumps of wet sand, hard as rocks, soared at the Southerner in a fierce barrage and forced her to summon a liquid shield. The waterbender twirled around, pulling her shield about in a tight arc to gain momentum before transitioning her defense into an offense, shooting it forth in a horizontal geyser. Korra sidestepped neatly and asserted her control over that water, pulling it away from Katara's grasp and sending it back with a turn of speed that proved too much.

Stumbling backwards as the water rammed into her, Katara quickly bent the blinding liquid from her vision and refocused on her opponent. To her dismay, she saw that Korra hadn't wasted any time—she was running right at her, doubtlessly about to sink into some sort of stance and attack anew—

Panicking, Katara lashed out instinctively and removed all the water from the sand, causing the beach to change beneath the older girl's feet. She staggered awkwardly, her balance compromised as her speed was suddenly absorbed in the less-than-solid ground, and Katara sent the reclaimed water spiraling back around to make that imbalance complete. The force of the impacting water knocked Korra over, and she rolled once in the sand, coating her exposed skin in the grit, before she regained her feet and grinned at her opponent's success.

"Nice environment change! Look who's been listening to her old teacher," she remarked, genuine praise, even as she re-saturated the sand to even the playing field once more.

"Well, I learned from the best," Katara replied, and she shifted her gaze to her brother. "Switch!"

With a rather unnecessary war cry, Sokka stormed the battle ground, brandishing a pair of hardwood batons. Korra barely had time to drag her matching pair from the back of her belt before the warrior was upon her, striking left, right, and center in an astonishing flurry of blows. The Avatar danced away, parrying his every blow and seeking the advantage which would spur her to the offensive, but for the moment, he firmly held the upper hand.

After slipping up several times and accidentally permitting his blows to land on her knuckles and forearms, Korra managed to lock their weapons together so that it no longer became about hitting but rather about shoving. She dug her heels into the ground—and it was so hard not to earthbend for the added impetus—and pushed mightily, upsetting Sokka's stance and causing him to flounder to regain it. She capitalized on that, knocking one baton on the outside of his knee and jabbing the other into his stomach.

He wheezed as the wind was driven out of him, and with a grimace, he whispered, "Switch…"

"What?" Suki called from where she stood next to Katara, observing the match.

Korra laughed and tossed her weapons aside. "Your turn! Switch!"

The Kyoshi Warrior needed no second bidding; she bounded into range, and the two girls circled each other, fists up and eyes peeled.

Katara watched the continuing fight with half an eye as she jogged over to her brother; he remained doubled over, coughing as he sought to regain his breath. She patted him gently on the back and leaned down to his level. "You okay? That must've been some hit."

Sokka rubbed ruefully at his stomach, and he squinted at the two current fighters, both of whom had managed to land punches and kicks on the other. "At least…she's hitting Suki. For a second there…I thought it was just gonna be me…"

"I did get doused with water," she reminded him.

"Oh," he grumbled, "doused with water…yeah, that sounds really horrible. If Suki calls switch, then you can go out there and get doused with water again."

She frowned at him, about to protest, but now that the adrenaline had ceased pumping through her system, she could think clearly about her own battle with the Avatar, and something about it bothered her. With her frown deepening, she made a mental note to ask Korra and then returned her focus to the action.

Suki had just thrown the Avatar over her shoulder, making use of a sturdy stance and a sharp torque of her hips, but as soon as Korra landed on the wet sand, she was rolling up and over and kicking out; her shin landed on the inside of Suki's knee, and the joint buckled from the pressure. Half-collapsed, the Kyoshi Warrior could only halfheartedly swipe at the Avatar as she closed back in, and Korra batted that attack aside effortlessly and captured the other girl in a triumphant stranglehold.

Suki tried to break free for a moment, but then she conceded the defeat with the croak of, "Switch!"

Sokka squinted up at the waterbender. "That's you, little sis."

She nodded and approached her opponent guardedly, noting that while Korra was still clearly fit and able to continue, she was just as clearly more tired than the last bout. Wondering how she could use this to her advantage, she summoned a large wave, and as Korra turned to counter it, Katara raised tendrils of water from the wet sand, wrapped them around the Avatar's feet, and froze them in place.

"Oho, a diversion," Korra observed as she successfully banished the wave and noticed her new shackles. "Crafty, but not good enough." She splintered the ice, breaking free, but as she did, Katara sublimated the shards, transforming them directly into a blinding cloud of water vapor; the Avatar condensed it almost immediately, but those precious few seconds had been enough for the waterbender to find a new stance and put her strategy into motion.

With the surf lapping around her ankles, Katara sent several water whips drilling at her opponent, staggering them slightly so that they arrived at different times. As Korra upset them all with rising towers of sand, the younger girl flooded the beach with a thin layer of liquid and then froze it, effectively preventing the Avatar from earthbending. Korra regarded this development with a modicum of irritation, and as she focused on melting the icy sheet, Katara beat her to part of it, raising a silent whip behind the older girl and bringing it down forcibly. The impact knocked Korra to her knees, and, hardly daring to believe it had actually worked, Katara dragged up the rest of the ice and molded it around the Avatar, trapping her in a frosty cocoon.

Korra considered her predicament, and then she ventured, "Switch?"

Suki applauded this victory while Sokka tried to cheer, although he started coughing in the middle of it and ended up grumbling, "Serves you right, Avatar!"

By and large ignoring them, Katara approached her frozen friend, her expression quizzically set, and regarded her with her arms folded on her chest.

The older girl grinned crookedly. "Any chance of getting me out of here? Only I'm rather cold."

The younger one just shook her head. "Can't you firebend it? Or are you just not firebending at all today? You do realize that's the only reason I beat you—because you refused to use it. Well, that and the two other opponents, I suppose."

Korra studied her for a moment, and then she glanced aside, exhaling flames to melt her prison. Once enough of it had melted to free her arms, she waterbent the rest of it away, clearing the beach and returning the environment to normal. She hunched forward on the sand, maintaining her silence, and at last, she blew a gusty sigh and patted the ground beside her.

Katara obeyed, sitting back on her heels and waiting for her answer.

The Avatar gazed out at the horizon, her eyes somewhat narrowed as she tried to perceive something in that distance. "Firebending is helpful and convenient at times," she explained. "It creates light and heat, both of which have a variety of uses outside of battle. But just because it can dispel the dark and keep your toes warm doesn't mean there isn't an inherent danger in summoning it at all. Firebending is…incredibly dangerous."

The waterbender pondered that in silence. "You said it was your favorite element, though. You made it sound like fun."

Korra tilted her head to one side in a concise gesture that was neither nod nor shake, and she picked at the bindings on her knuckles. "Well, those are both true. But I…am wary of it in circumstances like these. You're familiar with the phrase 'fight fire with fire', I assume?" She waited for a confirmation before continuing. "In bending battles, I try to follow that rule. Unless my opponent's a firebender, I don't use fire, and really, that's unless my opponent is, in fact, my enemy. If you screw up with water or earth, well, you'll get banged up, maybe get a few broken bones, but you'll by and large be fine. But if you screw up with fire…" She trailed off with a shake of her head. "If I assumed you'd be able to counter it and used it against you and then you couldn't…I mean, if I'd hurt you in some stupid little spar…"

"Oh," Katara said quietly. "I didn't realize."

The Avatar's expression remained shadowed. "Fire is brutal," she murmured. "It keeps hurting even after it's healed, and its scars never truly fade. You saw Prince Zuko's face, right? That was a burn mark. He must've gotten it in some horrible training accident. And since I didn't want to disfigure you and leave you in agony…" She trailed off again, this time with a lighthearted shrug that was, in fact, terribly heavy.

"I didn't realize it was such a burden for you," the waterbender apologized again.

Korra waved a vague hand. "It's not, really. It's just something I need to be careful with. I think it affects me less because I'm the Avatar—fire isn't the only thing in my soul. It's tempered by the water and the earth and, presumably, the air. I can only imagine how much willpower it must take to control when you're just a firebender."

Katara dug a little hole in the sand, preoccupying herself with the task. "I've never thought about that before. Water is so easy to use, but…I guess that's because it's always an outside source. Fire comes from the bender, right?"

"From the breath," the older girl clarified, and then she said it again, perhaps because she liked the way it sounded. "Fire comes from the breath."


Zuko was acutely aware of Korra's thoughts—at least, he was in the broadest sense. In the yard at Zhao's outpost, he went through his forms with the two firebending members of his crew, the entire exercise conducted under the watchful eye of General Iroh. The prince had always found it easy enough to maintain his control while meditating, but serenely sitting before a row of candles and then ducking and dodging on a battleground with pounding adrenaline making it difficult to see straight…well, those were two rather different cups of tea.

His breathing labored in his chest, he completed the latest form and awaited his master's critique.

Iroh tugged on his pointed beard. "You still need more precision, Prince Zuko. Your flames blow too widely. You should only hit what you aim at to—"

"Avoid collateral damage, I know, Uncle," Zuko grunted, dashing the sweat from his brow. "It's…difficult to concentrate the stream sometimes."

"It is especially difficult when you grow weary," the general pointed out in consoling tones. "Once you lose control of your breath, control of your fire will follow. We will take a short break and resume in ten minutes' time."

The prince accepted that with a nod, and he offered polite salutes to his crewmen, who bowed deeply in return. As they wandered off, he approached his uncle and accepted the proffered towel, wiping his face and neck as he paced around idly, seeking to keep his blood from settling too much in his veins.

"You are improving, Prince Zuko," Iroh complimented. "Your focus lasts much longer now."

With the towel draped around his neck, he grasped the loose ends and stared off at the sea. "Good enough to beat the Avatar? Because no matter how many times I get laughed at and ridiculed in the mess by the other soldiers, I still don't think that was a dishonorable defeat. She didn't even use her Avatar powers—well, outside of the multiple-element thing, but…she did not need to resort to the fabled Avatar State. She fought me fairly and, well, as a human." He paused, shaking his head, still impressed by that battle, and concluded, "She was a force to be reckoned with."

The old man inclined his head. "Indeed, I have not seen a firebender of her pure-hearted ferocity since I was in my heyday as Dragon of the West," he remarked. "I, too, was a force to be reckoned with."

"You still are, Uncle," Zuko assured him, and he chuckled. "Pure-hearted ferocity, huh. That's an interesting way to put it." Frowning, he considered something. "How do you think she stacks up against Azula?"

Iroh's expression became curiously blank, as if this were a subject he did not desire to appraise or render judgment upon. "Your sister is…a unique firebender. She burns so hot that she burns cold. Considering the breadth of her abilities, though, from her blue flames to her lightning to her cunning tactical mind…I believe that, in a purely fire versus fire battle, she would defeat the Avatar."

Zuko released a rueful sigh. "So Azula's leagues ahead of me still, as per usual."

The general cocked his head to one side, stroking his beard once more. "I do not believe that is true, Prince Zuko," he decided at length. "The way you are as a person…you are not on her path at all, so she cannot truly be ahead of you. She follows your father's path, a cold and decisive and, indeed, divisive path. But I believe that you are following mine, the one I seem to share with the Avatar: the one of pure-heartedness, where all anger is righteous anger, spurred by the existence of injustice; where battles are fought with honor and courage to protect the ones we love."

He scratched at the shaved side of his head, feeling the shortest of hairs under his fingertips. "I don't entirely know what to do with you lumping us in with the Avatar," he finally remarked.

Iroh shrugged and raised meaningful brows. "Surely, there are worse people to be compared to. For example, you should also be grateful that you are not following Commander Zhao's path, for that path destroys itself. He is too wild, too volatile. He will burn himself to the ground before the end."

Zuko studied his uncle sidelong. "You really think so?" he murmured, and he shook his head. "Well, if it is to be a choice amongst Azula, Zhao, and the Avatar, I…do believe I would choose the Avatar, strange as it is to say." He caressed the weathered folds of his scar, and his entire person seemed to contract at the delicate contact. "She permitted me an honorable defeat and exacted no punishments, which is more than I can say for anyone else."

Iroh's brow creased in sorrow. "Your father does not deserve your loyalty, my nephew," he dared to say.

Zuko smiled humorlessly. "But who else am I supposed to pay it to?" he wondered in hollow tones, and he shook his head again, this time as if he hoped he could knock something loose. "We should continue with the training, Uncle."

Iroh glanced aside, his attention distracted by something. "We should, indeed, but we may not have the opportunity," he commented, nodding at the approaching man.

The prince turned to regard the messenger, who offered them both courteous bows. "Prince Zuko, General Iroh, I have come to tell you that your ship is ready. The engine has been replaced, and she is ready to sail once more."

Zuko dismissed him and faced his uncle. "We might not have to see Zhao again at this rate," he said with a spark of optimism.

The old man nodded. "That would certainly be best," he agreed. "I will gather the crew while you wash up. We will be ready to make way once you are done."

Nodding absently, Zuko crossed the naval yard, his thoughts blissfully clear as he approached the officers' quarters, where he and Iroh had been living during their stay. Firebending always seemed to clear his mind, translating all his problems into the easy solutions of flames and fists, and it was a welcome respite from the usual churning fury of his thoughts. Not to have to worry about his honor, or his father's love—or lack thereof, or his sister's schemes and skill, or his mother's still-unexplained absence…

He opened the building's front door and padded down the hall to the baths, his head hanging lower and his shoulders subtly slumping. So much for firebending clearing his head…He passed into the bath chamber, noting with some relief that it was empty, and chose the tub closest to the wall. Spinning the faucets and letting the tub fill, he leaned his hands on the nearby sink and studied his reflection in the small, speckled mirror.

A scarred prince stared back at him, and he hesitantly touched the rugged flesh again, the mark of his dishonor. Sometimes, when he caught his reflection, he would be confused for a split second because, for that split second, he had forgotten about the scar's existence. He'd had sixteen years of flawless skin, and those memories occasionally overrode those of the last two years, which only served to make him feel even worse when he realized that the past had happened, that he had been so disfigured. But he had not forgotten about it lately, not with the constant mutterings of the outpost's soldiers reminding him of his disgrace at every turn.

Zuko moved his hand on, scraping along his cheek before running back over his head. It seemed that he also needed to shave again.

He turned away from the mirror with a sigh, deciding to shave later, and cranked the faucets off; the water ceased gushing into the tub, and he firebent it quickly to the desired temperature before he climbed in, relaxing back against the side and letting the heat sink into his weary flesh. All kinds of warmth seemed to soothe him, be they firebending or hot baths, and he closed his eyes, succumbing to his weariness. It sometimes felt as if he were always tired, but then he supposed that made enough sense, since he was never home. It wore away at his soul, being abroad like this, and he knew that must have been what his father had desired when he'd banished him. This was what he had truly been condemned to: the life of a vagabond.

Discontented, he sat forward and splashed water in his face, over his whole head, and let the liquid wash across his skin, coursing in miniature rivers and beading up on his eyelashes…or at least, beading up on the lashes of his right eye. His left eye had none, the little hairs burned away as surely as his left eyebrow had been, as surely as his skin had wrinkled and shadowed.

He wiped the droplets away and tried to focus on wringing the wet from his ponytail, but it was difficult to focus on anything but the darkness that haunted his every waking and sleeping hour. Washing his hair was a paltry distraction, but he would have been grateful to keep it in exchange for the distraction he ultimately received in the form of Zhao.

The bathroom door swung open, and the commander stalked in like a tiger cornering his prey, and he leaned a hand on the rim of Zuko's tub. "Here, let me reheat that for you," he said in the guise of courtesy, and the metal beneath his hand began glowing.

Zuko masked his grimace as best he could as the water became painfully hot, approaching scalding, and knowing that Zhao sought to use the situation's discomfort to his advantage, the younger firebender decided to disregard his self-consciousness as best he could. He stood up, the steaming water cascading off him, and casually stepped out of the tub to retrieve a towel, forcing his motions to be as nonchalant as possible, not exposed by the slightest quaver. He wrapped the dark red fabric around his hips and ambled over to the mirror, retrieving a straight razor from a shelf and checking its edge.

"Did you need something, captain?" he inquired innocently, unconcernedly. "I'm rather in the middle of my grooming routine, as you might have noticed."

A muscle in Zhao's face twitched as his correct rank was once again ignored, and he lashed out, somewhat weakly, with the statement, "I'm surprised Lord Ozai permitted you to have any semblance of topknot after he banished you, my disgraced little princeling."

Zuko was glad he had not actually attempted shaving, as his hand surely would have slipped at those words, words he had often wondered about himself. Maintaining his brave face, though, he supplied Zhao with the answer he had always tried to believe. "I have been banished, captain, not disinherited. I am still heir to the throne, and therefore, I can retain all visual indicators of that position." He considered the razor, a frown beginning to form. He had only ever shaved his head because the medics had required easy access to his burn while it was healing, and the long hairs would just have gotten in the way of the salves and bandages. But it was a scar now, so he could probably let it grow back…

He was pulled from his thoughts as Zhao continued speaking. "Ah, I see. Well, I suppose you do still call yourself prince, too. In any event, I came here because I have been informed that your ship is ready. I wonder," he said softly, "if you intend to seek the Avatar?"

Zuko kept an eye on the commander via the mirror, but the other man remained standing beside the tub. "I have no intention to," he replied. "My destination is the capital so that I might tell my father about the Avatar's existence and the truth in the late High Sage Shaolin's prophecy. Those are my only desires at present."

"Really?" Zhao wondered. "Because I would have thought that you would try to rectify your mistake and recapture her. Surely that would be a better present to bring before your father than news of your latest failure."

"Surely it would be," the younger man replied, "but I have no idea where the Avatar is, nor any way to find out."

The commander wandered a few paces closer. "You do not believe that she has remained in the South Pole?"

"Only a fool would have remained in the South Pole," Zuko dismissed, "and while it would have been convenient for us, the Avatar, regrettably, is not a fool. Her current whereabouts are therefore a total mystery, one I do not wish to spend the time and energy unraveling."

Zhao paused in his advance and snorted. "So willing to give in—that is a coward's choice, one that I'm not surprised you would make." He resumed his swaggering pace then, coming up behind the younger firebender. "After all, you have no honor, and even delivering the Avatar in chains would not have been enough to wash away the stain of your disgrace."

Zuko snagged onto his wrist as Zhao reached to prod his scar in pointed emphasis, and he glared at the older man's reflection. "Careful, captain," he said quietly. "There are some boundaries you should not cross."

"Your uncle isn't here to protect you this time," Zhao hissed. "And are you really brave enough to fight without the protection of a tired old man who is far past his prime?"

Zuko's glare intensified, his golden eyes flashing. "Watch your words, Zhao. You will not speak of my uncle in that fashion. You will accord him the respect he deserves as one of our nation's great heroes."

The commander smiled, or at least, his lips curved and his teeth bared: a shark's smile. "Great hero?" he echoed mockingly. "Was that before or after he abandoned the siege of Ba Sing Se and deserted his men, all so he could cry over his stupid, dead son?"

A roar of pure hatred escaped from the depths of Zuko's chest, and he struck out at Zhao, trying to bury his elbow in the other man's face. But the commander caught onto his arm and twisted it around, pinning it to the prince's back and, using his free hand, shoved the prince's head forward. Pain burst in Zuko's awareness as he was smashed into the mirror, and the impact dazed him momentarily even as the cracked glass lacerated his skin and sent blood dribbling into his eyes.

But the pain only fueled his rage, and he lashed out with his other arm, this time tipping his elbow with fire; Zhao was forced to duck, unable to properly counter at this range, and that caused the pressure he'd been applying to Zuko's left arm to slip. The prince tore himself free and danced a few paces away from the reddened sink, dashing the blood from his vision and slipping into a fighting stance.

Zhao turned to face him, his lips still twisted in a skeleton's grin. "So, it seems that Daddy didn't make you afraid of fire, after all."

Zuko's expression contorted in unadulterated fury. "You don't know what that monster made me into!" he half-snarled, half-shouted, and pressing his palms together, he sliced his arms down and across; fire flashed along the same arc and exploded towards the commander, who quickly brought his hands together before tearing both them and the approaching fire apart. He punched forwards, sending two successive streams of flame at his enemy, but Zuko ducked away from the blazing energy and executed a spinning wheel kick with staggering speed.

"But I know what you are!" the younger man continued, summoning a fire shield to dissipate Zhao's latest counterattack, and then he charged in, recklessly shortening the playing field. "You are a fool because you have been handed a powerful weapon, and you think that alone makes you powerful! You think because you can bend, that makes you strong! But having a weapon you can't control is worse than having no weapon at all, isn't it, captain? Well? Isn't it?"

Zhao lashed out indiscriminately, shooting fire into all corners of the room, as if to prove Zuko's point. The younger bender snuck in closer, guarding his face from this torrent of blows, and he knocked Zhao's latest attack aside and sent a punch directly at the commander's face; he caught the approaching fist, but the prince was not deterred—he had planned it this way. Zuko latched onto Zhao's wrist with his free hand, and he stepped into the larger man, yanking down hard on his arm as he doubled over. The commander flipped over the prince's back and landed in the still-full tub with a terrific splash, and when he rose, sputtering, to the surface, Zuko tangled his fingers in Zhao's hair and forced him under again.

"How d'you like it?" he growled, and he rested his free hand on the tub's rim. "Is it hot enough for you?"

Zhao thrashed more mightily as the water's temperature accelerated towards its boiling point, his fists and feet blasting fire wildly as he sought to strike his attacker via pure luck. But Zuko was crouched, largely protected by the tub's metal sides, and he was relentless. Swiveling halfway, he snatched up the razor from the nearby sink, and he cut right through Zhao's own topknot, severing the brown hairs with a terrible, vindictive smile.

The bathroom door banged open, and Iroh skidded across the threshold, throwing up a wall of fire almost immediately to protect against Zhao's haphazard attacks. He pressed in further, skillfully guarding, and when he reached Zuko, he spared a moment on horror before he wrestled his nephew away from his enemy.

Zhao finally managed to break the surface, and he stumbled out of the tub, tripping over its edge and falling onto his hands and knees, his armor steaming and his exposed skin flushed and pink. He coughed, fighting for breath, and glared weakly at his tormentor. "I swear to Agni…that I will kill you, you little bastard!"

Zuko struggled against his uncle's hold, seeing red. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Both of you, stop this at once!" Iroh barked, his expression fearsome to behold. "This is no way to conduct yourselves! If you have a grievance that cannot be sorted out without resorting to physical force, then you hold an Agni Kai! You do not brawl in the bathroom!"

"He insulted you, Uncle, you and Lu-Ten!"

"He tried to drown and boil me!"

"And I should've succeeded!" Zuko snapped back. "I should've killed you as remorselessly as a man kills an animal! Then maybe you would've known something about mercy and honor and respect!"

Iroh glared at his nephew. "Do not speak of such things!" And he turned his fierce gaze on the commander. "Get out of here, Zhao! It is clear you instigated this fight, and I will be certain to report this to my brother, mark my words!"

Zhao exhaled a little laugh, his grin haunting. "Go ahead and tattle to Lord Ozai—I'm sure he will thank me for trying to rid the world of his pathetic disappointment of a son!"

Zuko almost ripped free of Iroh's hold, his teeth bared anew and the blood trailing down his face, and perhaps the commander's courage deserted him upon witnessing such a feral sight, as he staggered to his feet and disappeared down the corridor without any further taunts.

"I will kill him, Uncle," Zuko vowed, his anger transforming unevenly into something else, and tears welled up in his good eye from the exertion, from the expulsion of so many emotions. "I—I'll kill him."

"Quiet," the general ordered sternly, and he tilted his nephew's face, inspecting the scratches on his forehead. "These do not appear to be too deep; they should heal without a problem." He turned his attention to Zuko's hand, which had tightened into a fist around the razor and now dribbled a steady stream of dark crimson down his arm. "Your hand, however, might be more of a process."

Zuko seemed oblivious of the physical pain, his tears mixing with the blood on his face. "Do you…do you think that Father hopes…I will die? Is that…why he banished me? Did he hope the sea would take me?"

The old man knelt down, cradling his nephew's wounded hand in both of his. "I do not pretend to know how Ozai thinks," he offered at length, his voice gruff and his eyes shadowed. "I, however, am very glad you are alive. I would appreciate if you did not make it so difficult for me to keep you that way."

The prince bowed his head, the tears leaking more profusely now. "I am so sorry, Uncle."

"Shh," Iroh both soothed and dismissed, and he pried Zuko's fingers open and removed the red-glazed razor. "I'm going to cauterize this, so hold still. I'm afraid it will hurt."

Zuko sighed. "So it all comes back to fire," he breathed.


Clouds obscured the morning sun and unleashed cold rain on Kyoshi Island, dampening the Avatar's send-off in more ways than one. The three Water Tribe teens all had their parkas on and hoods up as they finished securing their new supplies in the outriggers, and Korra chuckled rather mirthlessly.

"Well, at least with two waterbenders onboard, baling the ship out will be really easy," she observed.

Sokka glanced aside at the assembled villagers, who were all sheltering beneath conical hats, parasols, and tarps. "Let's not drag this out, eh? No tearful goodbyes. Although, even if we had any, you'd never be able to tell."

"I'm inclined to agree," the Avatar remarked, and together, the trio approached the islanders. After the chief spoke for the majority, Suki and the other Kyoshi Warriors—sans paint in deference to the inclement weather—stepped to the fore and bowed deeply.

"It has been an honor to have you here, Korra," Suki said, and she glanced aside at Sokka. "It has also been very enjoyable to, er, be able to host your friends as well."

Korra grasped the other girl's arm in the traditional warrior's handshake. "Thank you for all your training; I'll be sure to put it to good use out there in the world."

"Speaking of," Suki said, and she shuffled her feet before straightening strongly. "We—the Kyoshi Warriors, that is—have decided to follow your example. We are going to leave the island and see what aid we can offer in the Earth Kingdom."

The Avatar's expression tempered. "You're going to war?" she asked, her voice quiet.

The other girl waggled her hand. "Perhaps not to the front lines, at least not right away. But Ba Sing Se has its walls to protect it, and there are many isolated villages scattered throughout the continent that do not have that same luxury. Fire Nation soldiers and bandits alike run wild, so we aim to bring a measure of peace to the countryside, one hamlet at a time."

Korra offered half a smile. "Then your goals are nobler than mine," she remarked, her tone tinged with something that sounded a lot like regret. "I only plan to kill the Fire Lord at some uncertain point in the future."

Suki lifted meaningful brows. "Well, someone has to," she said, the verbal equivalent of a nudging elbow. "I'll try not to beat you to the punch, alright?"

The Avatar exhaled a laugh. "Yeah, resist that urge if you ever come across him out in the Earth Kingdom countryside," she teased. "Just plaster a target on his back and send me a message."

Suki grinned and shook her head at such a ludicrous notion, and then, quite unexpectedly, she embraced the other girl. "Good fortune go with you, Avatar Korra."

"And better fortune to you," she replied honestly as the warrior eased back. "You'll need it on the battleground."

The Earth Kingdom girl bobbed her head, and her gaze flickered aside to Sokka. She stepped over to stand before the boy, and he pragmatically offered his arm; she decided to go in for bolder gestures, as she ignored his arm in favor of leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He stared at her in something like wonderment, his hand rising slowly to cover the spot, and she laughed nervously.

"Well, I am going to war," she remarked. "Better start practicing my bravery."

A strangled sound emerged from Sokka's throat, and after he cleared it several times, he managed to croak, "Okay…wow…please come back from war…"

She smiled, a pleased sliver, and flushed. "I will try my very hardest," she assured him.

Katara coughed into her hand, unable to keep from smirking at this awkward, sweet spectacle. "Anyway…" she declared loudly.

Korra grinned and put her hands on Sokka's shoulders, forcibly steering him towards the ship, and she was fairly certain that she had moved furniture that exhibited less static resistance. "Yes, anyway, indeed! See you guys later! May the spirits protect you!"

The Kyoshi Warriors saluted, and what villagers remained waved, cries of So long, Avatar! making themselves heard above the steady patter of the rain. The three teens leapt into their vessel, the siblings taking out the sail while Korra bent them off the beach and into the swollen surf; there was already a sizeable puddle in the curved bottom of the vessel, and Katara tidily sent that overboard in one fluid motion.

"Hopefully the rain keeps the Unagi away!" the Avatar called out cheerfully as she fought with the tiller to keep the ship on course.

Katara let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's about the last thing we'd need right now."

Fortunately for all of them, Korra's words proved true, and the little ship sailed out of the bay, unmolested by monstrous eels or elephant koi. The storm itself was proving problematic, churning the waves into great blue-green mountains and causing the sail to billow strongly one moment and then flap wetly against the mast in the next.

Sokka clung to the rigging, his mouth filling with water as he shouted, "Maybe we should have waited!"

"Too late now!" the Avatar yelled back, motioning vaguely over her shoulder; the warrior looked and saw that Kyoshi Island had already faded into the thick sheets of rain. "Katara! Help me waterbend! We need to cut through these troughs! Sokka, the tiller!"

They all assumed their new positions, the two waterbenders standing in the pointed prow and forcing the waves aside; this allowed the ship to take the path of least resistance, along flat and calm water, without having to ride up and down the dangerous swells. They battled the storm doggedly, one of the benders occasionally switching duties to bale out the ship, and Katara fought against the strain in her limbs as she sought to continue.

"Korra!" she yelled above the crash of thunder as lightning jaggedly split the sky into fragments. "How much longer are we gonna keep this up?"

"As long as we have to!" the Avatar replied grimly. "Although, you know, I bet this storm would've kept our mysterious friend away at the Southern Air Temple; maybe we'll get lucky and it'll last until then, eh?"

"I suppose, but…" Katara paused to exert her willpower over a particularly large wave. "But we have to get there in one piece, otherwise there's no point!"

Korra shrugged, suddenly becoming very easy-going. "I have a feeling we'll run out of storm before we run out of ocean."

For the first time, the Southerner felt her faith in the Avatar waver. "Er, what is that supposed to even mean?"

The older girl nodded indicatively to the west. "It means that the sky ahead is lightening, of course. We'll coast out of this downpour in no time."

Katara dashed the water from her eyes, and she saw that this observation was correct: ahead, the dark, angry clouds thinned to pale gray. Relief flooded her, along with renewed energy, and she chastised herself for doubting Korra, even in dire circumstances and for a mere second. "Well, then let's hurry up and get there!"

Korra chuckled. "That's the spirit," she said approvingly, and the two waterbenders engaged in a bit of a race, each of them seeking to outdo the other and guide the ship to safety. Soon the upset seas and punished clouds were behind them, and as the ocean calmed to its usual rhythms, Katara slid down to sit against the ship's side, her body exhausted and her breath coming in pants.

The Avatar crouched down and patted the other girl's soaked hood. "Way to go! That was some seriously good bending right there. You've earned this rest, so enjoy it."

Katara nodded wearily, and she tilted her head back against the hull and closed her eyes, intending to only rest them briefly. But she could not resist slumber's cloying whispers, and in the space of a few seconds, she had drifted off to sleep.


Some time passed, filled with sunrises and sunsets, clouds and clear skies, and then Sokka was shaking her awake for the fifth time. She groggily came to, and she peered uncomprehendingly at the bundle he offered.

"It's breakfast," he said with a chuckle. "And no, it's not fish."

The sun blazed above the eastern horizon, and Katara squinted up at it for another thoroughly disorientated moment even as she numbly accepted the food. "Oh…are…are we near the Southern Air Temple yet?"

Sokka glanced back at Korra, who nodded. "We're certainly getting there. We've been following the archipelago almost the entire time so far, and I just spotted the right island on the horizon. If it's alright with you, I'm going to need you to waterbend once we get a bit closer."

Katara unwrapped the stuffed sticky rice ball and bit into it hungrily. "I'll be ready when you need me."

The Avatar grinned faintly as she made an adjustment to the tiller. "I'd never think any differently."

As she ate, the waterbender watched the island clarify as the ship hoved closer, and it seemed no more accessible than it had the first time: its cliffs remained sheer, its edges utterly devoid of beaches. She wondered where they would dock the ship, and that was assuming that they managed to make it to the island. Korra's track record suggested that they wouldn't be successful, but Katara was certain that the Avatar had a plan up her sleeve—she never would have bothered trying to return if she didn't.

And as the mountains soared above them, Korra explained her plan.

Together, she and Katara bent a sphere of water around the ship and then sunk it below the ocean's surface, leaving them with a good amount of air to breathe and an invisible approach. Sokka remained at the helm and carefully guided them along as they approached the rocky underwater wall; once they achieved it, the benders lifted them back above the waves.

"Keep the ship steady," Korra whispered to the younger girl, and as Katara followed that instruction, the Avatar earthbent a sizeable cave into the rock face, just blasted the opening clear. She reverted to waterbending then, and both girls elevated the ship until it was level with the cave and floated it in, effectively beaching the craft at a dock of their own making.

"Well, we're here," the Northerner remarked as she banished the water back to the sea and disembarked. "Let's try to keep it that way, eh? I want you both to follow me; Sokka, you bring up the rear."

He began to nod, but then he frowned. "Er, follow you where?"

Korra grinned. "Up the stairs that I'm going to bend into the cliff, of course."

He conceded that with a shrug. "Well, of course."

The Avatar crept over to the cave's mouth and glanced up; nothing appeared to threaten them, as only a few hungry gulls wheeled in the visible sky. As silently as she could, she slid step-sized portions of the cliff outwards and crept up them, adding a handful of ledges at a time. It was slow progress, but they advanced up the mountainside all the same, and while Korra glanced upwards often, she never caught sight of anyone taking notice of their approach. With any luck, whoever was master of this island kept their gaze far out to sea and never bothered to peer down the sides of their domain.

At last, with welcome reprieve for the Avatar's aching muscles, they achieved the outskirts of the temple grounds and flat enough land. Korra pressed her finger to her lips, indicating that they continue holding their silence. The siblings nodded, and Sokka hefted his Kyoshi spear into a ready position while Katara drew a whip from the waterskin hanging from her sash; the Avatar summoned heat to her fingertips, the fire not quite showing, and so prepared, the trio ventured into the temple.

Their progress was unimpeded as they traversed shallow snow drifts and bare earth and tiled floors, and Korra had begun to wonder if perhaps it were simply angry spirits when she rounded a corner and saw him. She shied back, waving a hand to keep her friends behind her, and peered around the corner once more.

Yes, that had to be him…who else would wear orange robes and have a shaved head?

He appeared to be meditating, and Korra seized the opportunity to utilize the most helpful element: surprise. The three friends crept up on the seated man, the siblings flanking the Avatar, but before they could make the first move, the man snatched up his staff and whirled about.

Fire flared at Korra's hands. "Don't even think about it," she ordered swiftly, her eyes brooking no arguments.

The man stared at her and then stared at the fire, the fire that did not match her apparent native element, and his mouth dropped open, his staff lowering unconsciously. He just sagged in disbelief for a moment, and then he ventured hoarsely, "Are you…are you the Avatar?"

"Yes," she confirmed, and her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "And if I'm right…then so are you."

"What?" Sokka hissed from behind, just as Katara breathed, "Wait…he does look like an airbender…but even that doesn't make any sense…does it?"

The man sighed, his defensive stance faltering until it faded away entirely, and he bowed his tattooed head. "I…am the last airbender, and once, I used to be something greater than that. Once, I used to be…" He trailed off into another sigh, this one heavier than the first, and eventually completed that sentence.

"Once, I used to be Avatar Aang."