Chapter Eleven

Shiori sat on a stack of fifty pound rice sacks in an out of the way nook of the galley. She was most definitely not sulking, all appearances to the contrary. Just because she had been summarily dismissed by Prince Zuko as soon as they had returned to the ship, like yesterday's messenger hawk, did not mean she had a reason to feel bad. Alright, maybe she felt a little resentful.

In her own mind, her feelings were thoroughly justified; she had been the one to overhear the information General Iroh and Prince Zuko were now presumably discussing, and she assumed she would have some sort of role in whatever plan they developed. Wouldn't it save time to include her now, instead of shooing her away like a child who didn't belong at the adult table?

Shiori rubbed her cheek absently. Like most of their ilk, the scratches on her cheek pained her disproportionately to their size and depth. Her thumb, on the other hand, was completely entitled to throb with every heartbeat. Scowling, she moved the wounded digit experimentally. Stiff and sore with bandages wrapped around it, she still didn't think it would adversely affect her abilities. Maybe that was why Zuko and Iroh wanted to meet alone. Maybe Zuko thought her usefulness to his mission was at an end. Mentally bemoaning the unfairness of it all, Shiori didn't notice the approach of the cook until it was too late.

"Hey now. I thought I told you to let that thumb rest," Lee, who doubled as the ship's doctor, exclaimed. "Busy your hands with this then, if it will keep them out of mischief."

The chef handed her a sweet bun. Shiori accepted it with a small smile. It was hard to maintain her funk when Lee, who had admitted to having a niece back home about her age, constantly plied her with treats. It was one of the reasons she often found herself in the galley when not training or catching fresh air up on the deck. Although it was nice to have her own room to retreat to, she simply wasn't used to being alone.

By now Zuko's crew had gotten used to her silence, but the chef had adapted most quickly. He seemed a little bit younger than the majority of Zuko's crew, around thirty, maybe, which made him closest to her in age besides the Prince himself. And, unlike the rest of them, he lacked the abilities of a fire bender, making Shiori more comfortable in his presence. As Zuko's ship was undermanned, even for its small size, meals were served on request, as well as at specified times. Certain departments, like engineering, often sent one or two people to collect food for the rest of them. As a result, the dining area, as small as it was, never seemed overcrowded.

Not really hungry, Shiori nibbled at her sweet bun while watching Lee dance between making pelican-goose soup and rice for the crew and roast pelican-goose ala orange with steamed vegetables for the royals. Observing his kitchen choreography made Shiori smile in spite of herself. At one time, long ago, before Keisuke had been admitted to the Simetra Island training program, she had entertained the notion of becoming a chef. Even at such a young age, her aunt and uncle would often compliment her rudimentary cooking skills. Now that she was older, Shiori understood their kindness to her. Still, while other yu-yan trainees would often return from survival training thin and gaunt, she usually lost only a couple of pounds.

Shiori ducked her head as a self-deprecating smile blossomed across her face. As if one could compare the ability to catch and field dress a skunk-rabbit with what Lee was accomplishing here. But she couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy towards the man. No matter what, Lee would always have a function to serve. He'd never find himself cast aside like… like…

Like a weapon that isn't currently needed; the young archer concluded glumly. She wondered if this was part of what Master Zorin had been talking about; if having the attitude of a true yu-yan meant having to divorce her interest in the events that happened around her.

"We are weapons, Shiori. And just like our bows, we don't care…"

The teen stared down at her injured thumb, brows drawn down in thought.

"All I'm saying is, the man's an ass," an overly loud voice broke through her train of thought. Peeking out from her alcove of rice sacks, the teen spied Lieutenant Jee, along with the dayshift helmsman and one of the fire benders who often sparred with Prince Zuko.

Lieutenant Jee nodded a greeting to the cook before taking a seat in the dining area. "I don't think anyone's denying that, Shinzu, but you might want to think before shooting your mouth off. Zhao is an Admiral now and Prince Zuko's quest won't last forever. You never know; before the war is over we all might end up under Zhao's command."

The helmsman snorted derisively and Shinzu continued on as if Lieutenant Jee's quiet warning had not registered.

"Exactly. The man is an Admiral. He is already a member of the insider circle. What more does he want? You'd think he'd have better things to do with his time than compete with a sixteen year old boy! Hell, the way he acts you'd think he's the one who's been banished."

The word 'banished' seemed to hang like a pungent stick in the air; promptly filled by shushing noises from the other members of Shinzu's party. An awkward silence ensued.

"It's all right," Chef Lee murmured as he served the men tea. "The whole ship is well aware of Prince Zuko's circumstances by now. The Prince and his esteemed uncle are still in conference in the Prince's chambers. I brought them tea not long ago. And you never know. Perhaps Admiral Zhao wants to capture the Avatar out of an altruistic desire to serve our country's best interest."

The whole group erupted in laughter at Lee's softly spoken words. The topic of conversation shifted to the most beautiful women they had seen during their journey. Shiori tuned them out. She stared at the half-eaten sweet bun in her hand. So it was true then. Zuko was a banished Prince. In the heat of the moment, she had dismissed the pirate Captain's words as nonsense. She wondered if Headmaster Zorin knew; it certainly hadn't been mentioned in her classes. Surely he must, if he and General Iroh were old friends.

The information that Admiral Zhao wanted to capture the Avatar struck her as a harder blow. Perhaps lax in her knowledge of Fire Nation current events, she and every other yu-yan trainee always knew the name of the one commander they would some day serve. Up until recently it had been Colonel Shiloh, but just before she had left Simetra Island, it had been announced that Admiral Zhao had commandeered the squad of active duty yu-yan.

Oh! That's why Prince Zuko needed a trainee. Because we only serve our teachers and our teachers only answer to the Fire Lord. If he and Admiral Zhao are competing, then I'm sure he'd never be able to get his hands on a real yu-yan. They are rivals…

The possible ramifications of that made the fourteen year old's head spin. If she successfully helped Zuko now, would it destroy her chances of becoming a true yu-yan, even if she passed the fifth year exam? Why would Master Zorin set her up like this?

At the sound of her heart-heavy sigh, Chef Lee wordlessly pressed a cup of tea in her empty hand before resuming his bustling. Too preoccupied to even give the man a grateful smile, Shiori took a small sip. She had given up on the half eaten bun, which now tasted like ash in her mouth.

If I don't serve Zuko faithfully, I fail. If I do serve and Zuko succeeds… I might not have a place to go after I graduate. Arrg! This is so unfair! What should I do? What would Keisuke do?

Another horrible thought dawned on her. Zuko was a Prince, heir-apparent to the Fire Throne. High treason was the only crime she could think of that would warrant banishment. Did serving a traitor make her a traitor too? Maybe Master Zorin hadn't known…

It took several sips of tea and deep, cleansing breaths before she was able to excise her growing panic. Surely General Iroh, Dragon of the West and hero of the Fire Nation, wouldn't be here if the worst were true. And she couldn't imagine the stern but fair headmaster deliberately setting her up to fail. No… this was a test. A test to see if she could rein in her spirit enough to faithfully serve her future commander; that is how Master Zorin had described it. Shiori thought she was beginning to understand. If she was able to smother her doubts enough to follow Zuko's orders without hesitation or excessive thought, then she'd be able to serve anyone. It was the ultimate test to see if she could truly be yu-yan.

Well, the girl thought ruefully, if I make it through this, the final exam, whatever it is, ought to be a breeze.

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Prince Zuko, having finished his faithful recitation of events on Pirate Island, sat cross-legged on a futon. He remained seated, trying to ward off the urge to fidget or pace, reminding himself firmly that a good ruler needed a calm and level head in order to react appropriately to trying situations. Across from him, his uncle was the epitome of those qualities as he mulled over Zuko's words.

"Hm. A giant manta ray-bat, eh? That's interesting."

"Yes," Zuko confirmed; his impatience made the word sound a bit curt. "I know this rumor has something to do with capturing the Avatar; but what? Why would he even care?"

Unable to contain his pent up energy, Prince Zuko vacated his cushion and began his familiar pacing, his casual robes fluttering around him as he walked. Iroh, used to this sort of behavior, remained seated, his golden eyes distant as he thought.

"Well, it is clearly a trap. Manta ray-bats have long been sparse in population, even before your great-grandfather's time." Zuko ceased pacing to listen intently. His uncle rubbed his beard as he spoke.

"They were creatures of nearly legendary status to the Air Nomads, much as our dragons have become to us."

"So, does that mean they're extinct then?" Zuko queried cautiously.

Iroh smiled at the boy. "Most likely, but that isn't what I meant. The Air Nomads long ago gave up their attachment to the material world. Their alliance with the element of air and their bonds with the sky bison allowed them to freely roam the world. Giant manta ray-bats also fly. In fact, once they reach adulthood, they rarely return to the ground. They are solitary creatures that used to wander the world without regard to the boundaries the four nations had established.

Dragons, of course, were native to the Fire Nation. And the Air Nomads themselves bred the sky bison at the Eastern Air Temple. But manta ray-bats never really singled out a nation to call home. The Air Nomads respected those qualities that so mirrored their own culture. Unfortunately, their migrant nature, in combination with an ever expanding human population, led to their slow decline. It was Yang-Chen, the previous Avatar from Air, who negotiated a treaty amongst the four nations to keep the giant manta ray-bat's largest remaining breeding grounds free from human contamination."

"Misty Island?" Zuko hazarded a guess.

Iroh inclined his head at the boy. "Indeed. Misty Island is close to the Fire Nation's sovereign waters. It is a volcanic island; lava still flows quietly beneath the surface, keeping the place temperate year round. At the same time, its proximity to the north subjects it to a constant flow of cool air, causing the mist that gives the island its name. It is a large island, dense in forestation; a place that was perfect for young manta ray-bats to safely mature. Someone has done his research. If this rumor reaches the Avatar's ears, as isolated as he is from the rest of his culture, he'll be unlikely to resist the urge to attempt to find the beast."

Zuko crossed his arms in front of his chest and snorted. "I think you are overestimating his maturity. He'll probably just want to ride on its back, like with the Kyoshi Island giant koi."

"Either way, my nephew, this trap is almost guaranteed to work. The question is: who was clever enough to set it?"

The teen rubbed his shaved head absently, a scowl darkening his features. "Zhao. It has to be. Since his promotion, he's taken over the search for the Avatar in this sector. The pirates were throwing around Fire Nation coins. He's the only one who would have the resources to hire them. Which means he'll have an armada surrounding the island already."

Zuko heaved a heavy sigh, his golden eyes looking in desperation towards his uncle. The older man shook his head slightly and gave his nephew an encouraging smile. "I do not think so, Prince Zuko. Surrounding the island with ships would surely scare the Avatar off. Most likely he'll have men on the ground, his best hunters, to take the Avatar down."

Zuko's one good eye widened. "The yu-yan, you mean." The teen whirled and marched towards the door, only to be interrupted by his uncle.

"Wait! Where are you going? It's almost dinnertime."

"To the helm. We have to get this ship underway to Misty Island. And I want to make sure the cook took care of Shiori's thumb. We're going to need her."

The Prince departed, muttering something obscene about reptile-parrots as he went. Iroh smiled fondly at his nephew's back before his thoughts became more serious. As he had told the Prince, giant manta ray-bats had never boasted a large population. In fact, it had been during the age of Avatar Yang-Chen that their already sparse numbers diminished to dangerously low levels, thus spurring her to protect their largest known breeding grounds. By Roku's time, their numbers had been calculated to be in the single digits. It was highly unlikely that a modern day Fire Nation citizen would know a thing about the creatures, let alone about their historic haunts.

Iroh agreed with Zuko's surmise that Admiral Zhao was the probable culprit behind the trap; but where had he gotten his hands on the information? The former heir of Fire Lord Azulan only knew about it because he had often snuck into the Dragonbone Catacombs, a veritable library of Fire Nation history and Fire Sage secrets, as a youth. Born into a house of minor nobility, Zhao wouldn't have had access to those hallowed grounds.

It was a vexing conundrum. Iroh couldn't help but admiring the intelligence behind the plan though. Not only was it practically guaranteed to attract the Avatar's presence, the island itself was the perfect place to capitalize on the unique skills of the yu-yan. Zhao's promotion, as regrettable as it was from Zuko's perspective, was clearly well deserved.

A gentle tap on the door interrupted the retired General's thoughts. Chef Lee entered, the savory aroma of roast pelican-goose rapidly filling the small chamber as the man laid out the covered dishes on Zuko's table.

Mouth watering, Iroh hardly noticed the slight chef's departure. Of course, his nephew would choose now to be absent, but it would be extremely rude to start without him. Still, maybe a tiny taste wouldn't hurt.

Tipping back the cover from his plate, Iroh snuck his chopsticks in to liberate a generous chunk of sauce covered meat. Then, after the succulent tidbit had melted away in his mouth, he took an equivalent amount from Zuko's plate to even out the appearance of the servings. Temporarily satisfied, he sat back to wait for his nephew. The minutes dragged by, each torturously prolonging the unsatisfying state of hunger that the twin pieces of meat had piqued rather than sated.

"Hm, this is an unfortunate dilemma," Iroh muttered to himself. "On one hand, I should wait for Prince Zuko. On the other, it is an insult to Lee's hard work to sit here and allow it to grow cold. Hm."

It was much later that Shiori, returning from her nightly run around the deck, witnessed a slightly scorched Iroh emerging from Prince Zuko's chambers. The elderly man brushed soot from his sleeve, giving the bemused archer a wide grin as he did so.

"I have such an understanding nephew."