Kindred Souls
By: ChiaraBrie
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Avatar: The Last Airbender. This story is pure fiction, from a fan =]
Chapter Ten: And so the Petals Fall
They killed Dock first—that was their mistake.
Deep asleep on the back deck, with Katara snuggled tightly beside him, Zuko didn't realize that the boat had come to a stop. He didn't feel the change from water to land; he was too preoccupied with other things, he let his guard down.
That was his mistake.
But the patter of quick feet on the boat resonated enough to shake him. Then, the undeniable sound of a knife through flesh, and the sputtering of blood through lips, was more than enough to snap him awake. His training as a warrior overrode all his senses, and he took five seconds to realize what was happening.
One Mississippi.
They had landed at the edge of the world, and their presence did not go unnoticed by whoever it was that lived there.
Two Mississippi.
These people have boarded their boat, and were hunting to kill. Dock was evidence of that.
Three Mississippi.
Katara began stirring from her sleep and was about to speak. He silenced her with his hand. She was alive. She was safe, with him. For now.
Four Mississippi.
He could hear their footfalls as they began rummaging through the tiny vessel. They would discover them within moments.
Five Mississippi.
He drew his swords, slowly and quietly. They needed to act.
"Cover us," he whispered to Katara. He hoped this small noise would not give them away. From the distance of their footsteps, they had less than a minute till they were discovered. She gave a stern nod, and tiptoed towards the edge of the railing. She waved her arms in a fluid motion before pressing down hard towards the ground, and a quick rising steam enveloped the entire boat. The fog was so thick that even Katara was unable to see a foot in front of her.
She stood perfectly still, afraid any movement would make a sound. Zuko would move first; although unsaid, she knew this was how he would act. All she needed to do was wait in the mist.
A man's scream was heard to the left, followed by a slicing sound and a splash of water. Katara ran towards the sound, trying to follow the path that Zuko was making for them to escape. However, she was moving too quickly, and stubbed her foot on something hard. It took all her strength not to scream out. Again in the distance she heard the splash of another body falling into the water. Zuko was moving on, and she feared she would left behind.
'Impossible,' she thought, 'Zuko would never leave me here.' She was about to move on,but something slippery under her feet distracted her. She squinted through the darkness, and saw the face of her old friend Dock, his eyes boring into her with an empty gaze. There was crimson red splatters along his neck surrounding the deep canyon that was sliced along his throat. She only had a moment to mourn him, recognizing the smile still etched into his face, as though he was laughing like a loon even in death.
She bent down to close his eyes. She owed him that last respect.
But as soon as she moved a sword sliced the air inches above her, and she dodge rolled away into the fog. Somewhere to her right, she heard the sounds of a fight and saw the unmistakable flashes of fire. Zuko was there, and he needed her help, but she had to deal with her own problems first. Again the mysterious person sliced at her in the mist, missing her by a few feet.
'They're guessing. They don't know where I am,' she realized.
She closed her eyes, and felt the vibrations in the water that was filling the air. If she concentrated hard enough, she could see their outlines where the water settled on their hot skin….
She found him, three paces to the left.
She braced her fingers as she froze the air around his form, stopping his movements and incasing him in a sheet of ice. It wasn't her instinct to kill. She always wounded, and evaded. Years of fighting alongside the peace loving avatar had trained her this way. But she remembered the old man with a boat, who would dance with her in the rain, and she reacted instinctively. She chose to encase the face of the man in ice, knowing the air would run out soon enough.
"Katara!" screamed Zuko, "Move!"
"I'm coming!" she called back, and made a bee line for the sound of his voice.
Splash. Another body in the water.
How many of them were there? And why were they attacking them? When Katara reached the nose of the boat, she realized the splash was from Zuko, who was waiting in the shallow water below. She could still hear footsteps behind in the mist, and jumped into the black water ahead. She propelled Zuko and herself the few yards towards the shore with a tiny wave, safely distancing themselves from the clouded wreck behind them.
"Zuko," she called as they ran through the sand, their waterlogged clothing holding their muscles back. Zuko just grabbed her hand and pulled her inland, but there wasn't far to go. The beach was a thin strip of land surrounding a giant rocky base. When Katara looked up, she could not see where the giant mountain ended. Its peek extended into the night sky and was swallowed up by darkness.
"We have to climb," he told her. "We landed on the wrong side, there are no paths here. We need to get to a landing."
Zuko quickly began scaling the wall, digging his toes into small cracks and creating foot holds with his fists, making a path for Katara to follow. When they were a far distance up, Zuko looked over his shoulder at the boat in the sea noticing that the mist had dissipated. On the beach below he saw two dark figures in the moonlight watching them, probably deciding what to do.
"Don't look down," he warned his friend as he quickened his pace upwards. His muscles began to burn with the effort, and he could only hope Katara was strong enough to pull herself up. There was nothing he could do for her, and the helpless feeling let fear creep into his heart. What if she fell? What if those men shoot at us, and cause her to lose focus?His worries had the opposite effect.
His footing gave way, and he slipped beneath a crumbling rock.
"Zuko!" screamed Katara below him. She watched with horror as the Fire Lord lost his grip on the wall, and tried to climb quicker to boost him up. They were so close to a ledge, he only needed one more step if only she could get there in time…
Then suddenly, he was sliding over rock and dragged up over the ledge. 'Oh no! They have him, they were waiting for us up there and they took him' her mind screamed, panic clouding her vision and shaking her hold.
"Zuko!" she screamed again, hoping beyond hope that they didn't stick a knife into his heart the second he surfaced. She could help, if only she could move quicker. Above, she saw the flashes of fire light and heard the grunting of men fighting. Her fingers began to bleed with the effort to reach the top.
"Fire Lord Zuko, please, listen to me!" came a voice from above, a voice she never heard before. It was the deep throated cry of a man, an older man. But it seemed like Zuko wasn't listening, and the flashes of light continued and illuminated the rocky cliff in front of her eyes. She was close to the top now, her face burning from the heat of the fire.
With one final effort, she pulled herself over the ledge.
The landing was no more than ten feet wide, yet the two men were fiercely battling; or rather, Zuko was attacking while the other man was evading.
"Please," the man pleaded between dodges, "listen to me!" But Zuko fought on, ignoring the man's pleas.
Katara did not rise from her partial position on the ridge. She watched with bated breath, unsure what she should do next. Then from below, she heard the whizzing sound of something flying through the air, and a large metal claw latched onto a large boulder only a foot away from her. The men below were scaling the wall. Meanwhile, the man dueling Zuko suddenly fell to his knees . Instead of fighting, he placed himself in a respectful bow, his forehead pressed to the ground. Zuko finally did not attack.
Instead, he pointed his sword at the man's neck. "Speak quickly, like your life depends on it," he said. Katara heard the cold blooded killer in his voice again, and she had to remind herself not to be afraid of him. It was still Zuko, the man who held her to his chest last night...
"Fire Lord Zuko, there is not much time. We need to hide from these men," the man on the ground said. Since he did not look up, Katara was unable to see his face, and in the dark it was hard to distinguish his features. She would have to make due with his voice to try read his true sentiments.
"And here you are, wasting it with petty issues. You have one chance to convince me why I should not slay you where you kneel." Zuko pressed his sword tip into the man's neck.
"You may not remember me, but I know you, my lord. We have waited for this day since we left all those years ago. Every time a ship has landed here I have investigated, wishing that you would return for us, to bring us home." The man spoke these words quickly without stutter, and Katara thought he must have practiced this speech many times over.
On another part of the ledge, another grapple hook landed and tightened.
"Who are you talking about, who is 'we'? I only see you before me," asked Zuko, a faint sliver of hope rising in his chest. Despite the chaos of their predicament, he did not forget who he came here to find. The man began reaching for his pocket, and Zuko reacted by nicking him with his sword. "Do not move!" he screamed.
The man raised his hands, indicating peace. "Please, my lord," he whispered as he slowly reached inside his pocket, and pulled out something small. In the moonlight, the object shone a fiery red against the blackness of the night.
Katara gasped at what he was holding. Zuko felt his stomach drop. Unbeknownst to each other, they both knew that object well.
"She said this was the only way, the only way to make you believe, when the time came," said the man. He raised his palm upwards, the delicate object perched on his fingertips.
It was wilted and pressed, but unmistakably the petals of a fire lily.
Zuko lowered his sword a fraction of an inch, his voice coming out in a soft whisper, asking again; "Who?" as if he didn't believe it himself.
Is it over?
Can he truly believe?
"Your mother, the Lady Ursa."
She was here.
She was alive.
"We have waited for you, my lord Zuko, all these years. Please, come with me, there is much to tell."
Zuko looked over at Katara, asking her with his eyes what he should do. Was this real? Was this safe? But the fire lily…her flower… how else would this stranger know? Katara locked eyes with him, and nodded. There was nothing else for it, they would have to trust his man. They needed to go where fate led them, be it a dangerous trail lined with thorns and shrouded in uncertainty.
But where there are thorns, there are blossoms, and Katara trusted in the spirits guidance that brought them to this very moment, lining the way with petals of fire.
Miles away at the Royal Palace, General Iroh could not sleep.
It has been weeks since he saw his young water bending friend, and he was anxious. His nephew has been gone for a long time as well, but if the two of them were together like he hoped, he knew that he need not stress. They would protect each other, they would come home together. And still, something was eating away at his subconscious.
He decided to get dressed and go for a walk. Surely stretching his old bones would help him rest.
Iroh began by walking through the grand hallways, staring into the faces of the Fire Lord's portraits which lined them. Each picture showed his ancestors with a stern face, all amber eyes boring down into him. 'What they would think of us now, I wonder,' thought the old man. Their family history was riddled with forces of great evil, as well as great good. Watching the balance of these two forces within his own family tree was always a heart wrenching issue.
Look at his beloved nephew. Descended from such blackness, yet filled with such light. Must these two elements be so closely intertwined? There are times he feels like the spirits play such games for a laugh. Iroh sighed and moved on. At the end of the hall there was the portrait of his brother, cold eyes looking into his own.
Iroh never could understand him. Even as children, Iroh feared his younger brother's mysterious ways. He was cunning, he was cold. And when Azula was growing up, he often saw these same features in the young girl—and look how she ended up. He was an enigma of pure evil, as mirrored in his daughter. Thankfully, Zuko inherited his heart from his mother. Soon enough they would be united, if he could find her again, if what Ozai said was true…
There it was.
Suddenly it occurred to him why he was uneasy these past weeks. Never in his life has he known Ozai to do anything for another's benefit. Yet he told Zuko about Ursa, with nothing in return? Unless there is something he does not know… It can only mean he has other plans, he has something to gain from all this. The knowledge of Ursa's whereabouts was his only bargaining piece; he would not have given it up easily.
"But what, my brother?" asked Iroh of the portrait. "What are you planning for your poor son?"
A few miles away in the Prison Tower, in the darkest cell, Ozai sat on the cold stone and waited patiently for him to come. He has been waiting for years for this moment; a few more minutes would make no difference.
And as if on cue, the metal door loudly clanked open and a prison guard entered. Well, he appeared to be a prison guard. The man kneeled down before him, bowing respectfully to the fallen Lord.
"And?" asked Ozai, not betraying his excitement in his voice.
"He's landed, my lord. But the first group was unable to slay him, they got away," whispered the imposter.
"As I expected. Those fools were no match for him and the water tribe peasant." The kneeling man nodded, unaffected by the carelessness Lord Ozai had with the lives of his brethren. This was war, and soldiers were meant to die.
"Yes, my lord. He was last seen fleeing with the girl into the mountainside with another man, we don't know who he is…"
"That is because you do not need to know. Continue," bit Ozai.
"My sources tell me he seemed very…attached to the peasant. I felt it important for you to know, my lord."
"Find out how attached, and report back to me. Is there anything else?"
The man shifted slightly in his position. "Your wife, she is not doing well. If they do not do as you expect, she may not make it"
Ozai chuckled to himself before answering. "Again, you presume too much. There are things you need not know. I have trust in my faithful servants. Let the petals fall where they may."
Author's Note: And here we go, into the thick of it all.
Leave me a review, I'd love to hear thoughts, guesses, ideas, hopes etc.
Au revoir,
ChiaraBrie