Mai blindly felt around the inside of her drawer until her fingers wrapped around the smooth, wax candle. She placed it on the bed next to her and quietly closed the drawer. She pulled back the silk sheets and wiped away the loose hairs and sweat on the back of her neck.
She enjoyed the feeling of the cool stone floor on her bare feet as she snuck out of the bedroom and lit the candle on the lantern hanging in the hallway between her bedroom and the staircase to the master bedroom.
Once back to her bed, she set the candle on her bedside table and laid on her side, watching the flickering orange light. Her mother's voice rang in her head, an echo of an old bedtime story.
Long ago, Agni, the sun spirit, took the form of a dragon to visit the physical world. When Agni arrived in the physical world, he had been captured by an evil ruler who wanted Agni's power for himself. He asked his people to join him in releasing Agni from the trap so they could kill him. He told them they could be in control of the spirits and anyone who helped him would gain a position of power in the new world order.
When no one stood to join him, he tried to face Agni alone. Agni destroyed the evil man with a single breath of fire and as a gift to his loyal people, he presented them with the fire and taught them to bend it.
It was told that all fire was descended from that one original flame from Agni and, like the same waves crashing on the shores of the Capitol to the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes, all fire was connected.
Usually, Mai would dismiss this as a fable. She understood that the point was to teach her not to question the spirits, or any authority for that matter.
But at night, when she could be alone with her delusions, she couldn't help but hope that maybe as she ran her fingertips through the candle without burning herself, she was touching something that Zuko's hands had once held.
The metal door creaked as Zuko shoved it open. his stomping was momentarily drown out by the the door slamming shut. He didn't care; let the crew wake up. If any of them had a problem with him, he could handle it.
It was summer, he knew, but still the arctic air nipped at his scarred ear and he could see his breath like steam in front of him. Walking to the bow of his ship, he wiped harshly at his tears.
He felt weak. It had been almost two months since he had dreamt of the Agni Kai; two months of restless, but comparatively peaceful, sleep where he hadn't woken up screaming and sobbing like a child. The railing was so cold it hurt his hands, but he tightened his grip around it until his knuckles were strained and white.
His struggle seemed hopeless. His existence seemed hopeless. He was nothing but an embarrassment to his father and a burden to is uncle and crew. The Avatar was long gone, with his honour, his throne, his empire.
He glared down at the freezing water, hearing his father calling him worthless and his sister's sickly sweet voice and an ancient, elusive Airbender mocking him.
He wanted to give into them, prove them right, just abandon the heat his bending gave him and throw himself overboard, refusing to breathe until he was in the Spirit World with his mother and cousin and the ghost he was chasing. He wondered if he would freeze to death or drown first.
He leaned forward and the metal railing pushed into his stomach, holding him back and reminding him that not only had he not put on a robe as he left his cabin, but that he hadn't even bothered undressing before falling asleep. The wind shook him and fluttered his clothes, the small stone in his shirt pocket tapping against his chest.
He remembered a reason not to give up. There was only a slight chance that she wouldn't find him horribly disfigured if he returned home, but she was always a lovely, if imagined, side-effect of regaining his honour.
"Not tonight," he whispered, not sure if he was addressing himself or the water or the horrible echoes in his head, and turned his back to the railing, ready to attempt to sleep again.
