The flames from the candles rose with the Princess's emotions, the tight grip on her bending waning as horror crept through her very being. Ursa held her breath as she fell into the closest seat, sinking into the comfortable cushions as her legs gave out from incredulous distress. For all her grace, she could not help the shock that coursed through her veins as her son prattled on before her. With trembling hands she brought the scroll closer to her, using it as reference for every word that spilled from her child's lips.

"—accustomed to the Fire Nations symbol of pride, a metaphorical philosophy based on traditional value and morals held strictly by the cooperation of the esteemed Fire Lord and his council."

Every single word was recited verbatim. Not a single letter spoken out of place. Not a pause taken too long. Not a syllable stumbled over even with the high vocabulary that was somehow being pronounced with ease.

"Zuko," Ursa interrupted her son, who upon being spoken to immediately stopped his tangent, "How old are you?"

The boy wrinkled his nose, "Six years of age, mother. You know this."

"And how—" Ursa swallowed, "did you manage to memorize the Fire Nation's Guide to Ethical and Moral Conduct?"

Zuko stared at his mother with a blank face, "I read it, so now I remember it."

Ursa took a deep breath, "How many times have you read it?"

"Once."

The Princess exhaled sharply. It was just as she feared. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to think and her body to relax. Her son was a genius. A genius who could recall every word he had ever read, including the lengthy philosophical work that no one had memorized to its entirety. Not even the Fire Lord could boast of having this vast of an intelligence.

"What— what else have you read?"

"Lots of things," Zuko mentioned off handedly, his focus completely on the candle he cradled in his palm. He had recently bent his very first flame, a full two months after his younger sister showed signs of being a fire bender herself. He was behind her already, and would let nothing distract him from his task.

"Such as?" Ursa prodded, willing herself to wipe away any signs of trepidation from her voice.

If Zuko was less focused on the candle, and more so on his mother, he would have noticed the inflection of her tone as she barely kept herself from stammering. He would have seen the sheer terror that graced her delicate features as he answered, "The Collection of Fire, A Benders Soliloquy, Fire Above the Nations, A Nation in Peril, to name a few."

Those were all Philosophical guidelines and history stories. Scrolls that every politician worth his pay had read, or had at least claimed to read. Not scrolls meant for children. "Can you repeat them to me?"

"Which one?" Zuko questioned, his breath deep as he attempted to spark a flame.

"Whichever you please," Ursa replied.

"Alright, 'A Collection of Fire; Book One, Chapter One— It is of course the responsibility of any Prince or regent of a Nation to hold his principalities in the highest esteem; a task very few can claim to have completed in its full—-"

Ursa frowned, the tendrils of fear gripping her heart as she watched her beloved child recite the scroll from memory. Her son was brilliant, more so than even his prodigal younger sister who had bent her first flame at the young age of four. He had a mind unlike any other, and only a fool would miss the chance to utilize it for all it was worth. Her husband was many things, but a fool was not one of them.

If this were to come to the attention of Ozai, there was little doubt that he would use his son for his own personal gain. Ursa shuddered to think of what use Zuko's mind would be to the power hungry man. Azula, as young as she was, was already lost to her. Her husband clearly favoring his second child that was already showing great prowess in the art of Fire Bending. She would not let the same fate befall her son.

"Zuko," Ursa spoke softly, falling to her knees to address the boy at eye level, "I need you to listen to me."

For the first time this evening, the prince moved his sight from the candle stick to his mother, his eyes widening at the fear that was clearly reflected in her own.

"Mother? What's wrong?"

Ursa swallowed, "You must swear to me, right here and right now, that what I tell you must be followed at all times."

"Mother I don't understand, what—"

"Swear to me, Zuko."

"I— I swear."

She took a sigh of relief, "You must tell no one of this talent you have."

"Talent?"

"You're a genius, Zuko."

"What— no, no I'm not. Azula is a genius, no one in the last hundred years had been able to bend a flame as young as she, I'm just… mediocre."

"You're a genius," She repeatedly forcefully, "No body else can recall words with perfect clarity that they have only read once before. It's practically unheard of."

A smile lit the face of the young boy, a grin impossible to hide, "You mean… I'm special? As special as Azula?"

A solemn nod answered him, "Even more so."

Zuko sprang to his feet, "We must tell father! He'd be thrilled!"

"Zuko no!" The Princess yelled, startling the boy to a halt. With a calming breath, she continued, "Your father wouldn't understand."

"Of course he'd understand! He may even let me join his training sessions with Azula!"

"Zuko— if your father were to find out, he'd only use you."

The prince frowned, "What do you mean?"

"He'd keep you to himself all day long, like he does Azula. I'd never see you anymore. Is that what you want?"

Zuko's eyes widened, "No. No of course not! I want you around, always!"

A smile finally graced her features, her smooth hands running through her sons hair, "Oh my boy, my precious beautiful little boy. I love you so much."

"I love you too, mother."

"Do you swear to me that no one will ever hear of this?"

"I swear, mother."

Ursa grinned, "Good. Now, I believe you were on Chapter Two of A Collection of Fire."

Zuko smiled as he returned his attention to his candle, the memorized passages spilling from his lips with ease as his mother watched, her heart constricting in the process. Ozai and Azulon were never to find out about this; she would make sure of it herself.

Eight Years Later

Zuko held his breath. He counted slowly. One. Two. Three. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Watch the flame escape from his lips and curl in soft tendrils. Inhale. One. Two. Three. Pause. Feel the heat expand in his chest. Exhale. One. Two. Three. Sense the licks of fire gently caress his cheeks.

The Crown Prince gently opened his eyes, stretching his neck as he eased himself out of his meditative pose. With a final sharp inhale, he stifled the dozen candles that circled his still body. It was quiet. Calm. Almost too calm one could argue, especially for a ship filled with gregarious soldiers that have been at sea for a bit too long.

It was Music Night. Uncle Iroh by now had just gathered the various crewmen aboard the ship and forced them on the deck to partake in what Zuko was sure to be a horrid rendition of the Fire Nations Ode to the Flame. The Prince quite detested the idea of having every man and woman on this ship distracted every Thursday night, however Uncle Iroh was quite adamant on hosting Music Night despite his nephews half hearted protests. Despite what Zuko proclaims, he knew how important these nights were to his crew; a break from the taxing work of having to man a ship through the harsh waters of the four nations. Well, three nations. Their ship was still banned from entering the borders of their homeland, and not even Zuko was bold enough to dare attempt the feat.

It did not mean, however, that Zuko was going to succumb to his Uncles pleads and actually join them. While the Prince was quite aware of his talent with a Tsungi horn, a talent he was repeatedly mocked for by his delightful younger sister, he had no intentions of showing this side of himself to his crew. His men barely respected the young 14 year old as is, no need to grant them further ammunition.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock. Two soft raps followed by an eager third one. Uncle. Zuko quickly rose from his pose and with a wide sweep of his arm, pushed ten of the twelve candles under his bed, hidden from sight. Crossing his legs and adopting a meditative stance, he spoke, "Enter."

The kind visage of his Uncle poked his head through the door, a gentle smile rested on his countenance, "Nephew, would you like to join us for Music Night?"

The Prince let out a small scowl, "No Uncle, I am trying to meditate."

Iroh let out a small gasp, a grin overtaking his features, "Are you finally up to two candles? Well done Zuko! That is quite advanced for your age!"

Zuko hated lying to his uncle, truly he did. It always made him feel a bit like Azula, a thought that brought him no comfort. But he was accustomed to the lies, so much so that they were just as much a part of him as the fire he knew was coursing through this veins. He hated to lie, but he had precious little choice.

"It's not advanced enough," he spoke somewhat candidly, "If I'm ever going to catch the Avatar, I need to be better."

There. That wasn't a lie. He does need to be a greater bender to catch the Avatar. Hiding his true skill was more an omission of truth than it was a lie. That being said, it did not help the lurching of his heart as his beloved Uncle shot him another genuine smile.

"Every rose bud will eventually bloom, dear nephew. It is only a matter of time."

Zuko nodded. It was easier to just agree with Iroh when he got into these moments of philosophical introspection, "How far are we from shore?"

"We have just arrived. I wouldn't suggest sneaking out any time soon, the Earth Kingdom doesn't take well to Fire Nation Princes."

"I will be careful."

"Very well, Nephew. Remember, you must never attempt to reach farther than you can see."

"Of course, Uncle," Zuko forced an eye roll, causing his Uncle to chuckle as he left the Prince to his own devises.

The teenager sighed in relief. That was close. Too close for comfort. Zuko groaned as he lay on the floor, his eyes closed as he battled the incoming headache. He loved his Uncle, more than he ever knew. He trusted him, truly. Just not with this. Never with this. He made an oath to his mother years ago, and Zuko of all people knew the cost of breaking it.

It had been a year now, since he began this fated mission. A year of sailing from temple to temple in the hopes of finding some source that spoke of the missing Avatar. A year of combing through endless air bending scrolls and miscellaneous pieces of literature. A year of time wasted. Zuko wanted to believe that there was hope of finding the elusive figure; but alas Zuko knew better. He always has.

His father found no use for him. With Zuko banished, Azula could take his rightful place as heir. She was stronger than him, more strategic, more intelligent than he could ever wish to be. At least, she was according to Ozai. Zuko knew better.

At first he did not know why he had to keep his intellect a secret from his family. Surely his father and sister would rejoice in his genius, a crown prince deserving of his esteemed title. But his mother was adamant, and as he made her an oath he did his best to keep it. He memorized complex fire bending forms the first time he witnessed them, committing each stance to memory. He could dissect and analyze the truth behind each kata, watching each breath the master took and replicating it perfectly. Yet when it was his turn to demonstrate, he took great pains in stumbling ever so slightly. His stance being only a hairs breath away from his sisters, his flame smothered to be a tad bit weaker. Nobody noticed.

In times when they were alone, his mother praised him. Showering him with the compliments his genius rightly deserved. In the privacy of his own chambers, he would execute the katas perfectly, proving to both himself and his mother that he was so much more than anybody could tell. Many nights his mother would cry, apologizing time and time again that he was forced to hide such a grave secret. It was during these moments that his strength was resolved, determined to not let his prodigious mind come between him and his mother.

Everything he tried he picked up with ease; becoming a Master in swordplay in only a years time, executing complex moves that would leave even Ty Lee impressed if she could witness, memorizing a plethora of different alphabets used in various colonies and nations. Yet time and time again his sister was blatantly favored, her streak of cruelty far outshining his kind and soft spoken demeanor.

When his mother was gone, disappearing into the night as if she were nothing but a memory, Zuko almost slipped his greatest secret. As he watched his father sing his daughters praises, a proud smirk gracing his countenance time and time again, he would will his mouth to open, his tongue waltzing as he would tell his family the truth he had hid for so long. Yet just as he would open his mouth, the image of his mother with tear filled eyes assaulted his vision, and his teeth would slam shut.

It was not until much later, just as the waves of flame scorched down upon his face, that Zuko finally knew the truth: Firelord Ozai was a monster, and little Azula was nothing but his pawn.

Zuko brought a hand carefully up his face, the tips of his fingers softly trailing the grotesque scar his fathers flames left in their wake. He knew, perhaps better than anybody else on this ship, just how great of a suicide mission this banishment was meant to be. He was given a small, old ship and a bare crew made up of criminals.

Zuko had perused though the personnel files of each crew member: Lieutenant Jee worked under General Iroh in the Siege of Ba Sing Se, one of the countless faceless soldiers during the time. He directly disobeyed the orders of his commanding officer and was imprisoned for three years, before being released for this mission. Four of the benders on this ship were thieves, the other three murderers. Assiah and Amilya, the sole women, were both guards in Boiling Rock Prison, and were suspected of seducing and assassinating various inmates. Even the cook was a petty thief who barely managed to escape imprisonment with his hand in tact due to his skill in the kitchen.

Between the ship and his crew, his father didn't even attempt to give Zuko a chance. He knew this. Uncle Iroh knew this. His crew even knew this. So why was he even trying? He pondered about his future, did he really want to spend the rest of his life chasing after a story? Zuko hated to admit it, but during his first month aboard the ship he was quite lost in life. He had no goal to accomplish, nothing to look forward to. It was with a hopeless and defeated tone that he even suggested to the helmsman to start the search at the various temples.

At the Northern Air Temple, a full two months into his banishment, he was able to find his true calling in life. Deep within the temple, in a hidden room obstructed by wide columns and a trick door, he found his prize: floor to ceiling bookshelves all stuffed with scrolls. Forgotten knowledge of the century passed, all within his very grasp. He ordered all the scrolls to be brought onto his ship; a command that brought many doubtful expressions. His Uncle tried to tell him that it would be a waste of cargo, that Zuko wouldn't even be able to comprehend the writing. The Prince disagreed.

It took a month for him to finally decode his first scroll, the lettering used being different than both the common tongue and the Fire Nation alphabet. Yet once he could translate the scroll, there was no stopping him. It took the better part of the year to read and memorize every scroll, the philosophies of old imprinted into his memory forever. Knowledge of katas and histories erased were sealed into his mind; and it was with a grin that he realized he was probably the only man alive who had this much information safely stored within himself.

It was then that he realized that this was what he was meant for. The Avatar may not be alive, but the knowledge of the world still existed. And Zuko would learn it all. With a relish he traveled to each Air Temple, yet to his grave disappointment he was unable to find a single scroll, no matter how hard he looked.

Zuko will never capture the Avatar. But he can certainly capture the knowledge of one. He had heard of a hidden library buried under sand, a library that was said to have the entire worlds knowledge collected. A library that was said to exist near this very village. With a smirk pulling at his lips, he slowly slid on a familiar blue mask, his dao swords strapped to his back. There were more scrolls to find.

Two Years Later

"The Avatar… is alive." It was not a question.

"Yes, your highness."

"And he has been discovered by Admiral Zhao?"

"Yes."

"And this Avatar is only twelve years of age, and has yet to learn any other bending besides air?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Zhao requests my presence aboard his ship to 'talk' about the recent emergence of the Avatar?"

"That is what the message states, yes."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. Why, why can't the spirits for once just make life easy for him? He had decided years ago to forsake this ridiculous hunt, spending his days traveling the world at his leisure and collecting information as he goes. He has been across the world, traversing the entire Earth Kingdom as he sought more scrolls. The day he discovered Wan Shi Tong's Library was perhaps the single greatest day of his life, barring the times he spent with his mother. An entire year of his life was spent traversing the stacks of knowledge, and it was only after being forcibly dragged out by his Uncle did he finally bid the place farewell.

"We cannot ignore a summon from an Admiral," Iroh pointed out, taking a sip of his tea as he calmly sat back.

"I'm his Prince, I can very well do what I damn please," Zuko snarled, his eyes closed in irritation. He did not want this. He did not want anything to do with the damned Avatar or his 'mission of peace'. All Zuko wanted, all anybody on this ship wanted, was to continue to status quo. They led an easy life, cruising from Port to Port, with no responsibilities besides maintaining his ship and the occasional fight when Prince Zuko would inevitably insult somebody. It was a low risk life; a life much greater than the one this band of criminals deserved. A life Zuko didn't want to compromise by stalking a child across the world.

"Zuko," Iroh warned, "It wouldn't do well to ignore him. If your father were to realize you had abandoned your mission—"

"I haven't abandoned my mission—" Lieutenant Jee snorted, bemusement covering his face. Glaring at the older man, Zuko continued, "In order to abandon the mission I would have had to accept it in the first place. As I'm not a complete idiot, nor do I have a death wish for me and my crew, I have no interest in playing into the whims of my father or which ever bootlicker he sent to monitor me."

"That's treason, your highness," The Lieutenant pointed out with amusement. It was a statement the crew of his ship found themselves uttering quite frequently, in an attempt to curtail some of their Prince's more destructive habits.

Zuko waved him off, "You know what I mean. I'd rather not meet the pompous bastard."

Iroh sighed, "Yet you must. Your father pays all of our wages, it would be quite unpleasant if we all of a sudden found ourselves without money to function."

The Prince groaned, "Fine. You win. Lieutenant, set the course towards the Earth Kingdom. If the bastard wants an audience, I'll give him an audience."