.

生

BOOK ONE:

LIFE

CHAPTER EIGHT:

THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS

.

The ending of last night's festivities came quietly, the exhaustion from the day catching up to everyone following hours of alcohol being passed around and food being ravenously eaten. When all was said and done, all the rebels and the villagers collapsed on top of each other in messy, uneven piles scattered around the hall.

All except for Zuko, who sat cross-legged on the engawa on the perimeter of the peaceful scene, back to the wall behind him. His head was tilted back, eyes cast upwards to the stars, not focusing on anything in particular as the white noise of chirping cricketsnails surrounded him. Needless to say, he was having trouble sleeping. Which has been happening a lot lately. The circumstances behind why he was sent back in the first place, and the phantom pains in his chest where he was shot with comet lightning in the future, and these weird vision-nightmare things he's been getting…

He shook his head. Uncle said the spirits must have brought him back, and he was never any good at spirit stuff. Obviously, given that he didn't have a better name for what was happening in his dreams than 'vision-nightmare things'. Before, the spirits were the enemy, the nebulous force that the Avatar concerned himself with. He invested very little time into it, despite his Uncle's teachings. Yet another mistake he's made, apparently.

That's not the only reason he's been kept up lately. Given the whirlwind of events he's been going through, it's no surprise, especially after the previous day. After Kwang had left Zuko with hopeful words, he returned to Song where they, to his dread, picked up where their conversation had left off before one of his crewmates turned on him. Their scars.

"Look's like the Fire Nation has hurt all of us…" she had said, mirthlessly with downcast eyes.

He had thought of a lot of things then. A kaleidoscope of lives. Aang, himself, Shen…

Azula.

And in that torrent of emotion, he couldn't find any of the words he wanted to say.

They set off the next morning - Zuko's crew, Kwang, and the soldiers from Gaipan - going forward with their plan to visit this village where Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation residents lived together relatively peacefully. Hopefully one of many. And it was in the cool morning air on the bank of the inlet where their vessel had been docked that Zuko found himself speechless again, but for a very different reason.

"So, Shen stole our ship."

"It's looking that way, Lieutenant."

'Had' being the keyword in 'where their vessel had been docked', since where there should have been a ship, there was just mockingly empty air. The only evidence that a ship had been there at all was a rope bobbing in the stream, one end blackened from presumably being hastily burned through, the other end tied to an anchor at the bottom of the blue.

"That's honestly quite impressive."

"Not helping, helmsman."

"Pfft- HAHAHAHAHA!"

Impossibly, Zuko's expression got even more deadpan as he turned his head to see Kwang absolutely busting a gut.

"W-well, we can always get back the same way we came," offered one of the Gaipan soldiers, as he gestured just a scant few meters to the right, where a few of their skiffs were parked. Skiffs that now had to transport almost twice the amount of people.

At Zuko's tired glare, the man continued. "We could squeeze in? Probably? Weight tolerances on these are pretty good…"

Kwang wheezed.

Among towering treetops, on a constructed wooden platform stably held on a thicker branch, was the figure of a teenager leaning over a makeshift railing. It was starting to cool now, as the seasons turned from summer to fall, the reddening leaves and the air dry enough to crack his lips cementing that fact. He looked over his domain from above, his domain being a number of similar structures on a few other trees, half-built. It was all definitely of crude make - neither he nor his compatriots were craftsmen after all - but the days they spent toiling proved worth it by the fact that they held together so completely. He smirked, a blade of wheat grass between his lips. One day, it would become so much greater.

"Jet!" Called out a raspy voice from behind him, as two pairs of footsteps landed on his perch. He turned to regard them. On the left was a quiet boy with a long face and killer aim. Given the moniker 'Longshot', his stoic nature made him speak few words. But when he did have something to say, it was sure to be important, and you had better listen. On the right was Longshot's complete opposite: a tomboyish girl with sharp blades and an even sharper tongue, named "Smellerbee". They were his two closest companions. His only Freedom Fighters.

'So far,' he reminded himself.

"Longshot spotted them: the guards are returning to Gaipan, and guess who came with them?" Smellerbee conveyed with urgency.

"The prince." He said, not masking his enmity in any capacity, and receiving a solemn nod in response. They all had history with the warmongering Fire Nation, none of it pleasant, but Jet had it the worst.

He could still see the fire, when he closed his eyes.

It was on a similar patrol the other day that they found out about some situation unfolding across the river. A Fire Nation ship docked, soldiers made their way to the neighbouring village, and a few hours later a single man returned and made off with the vessel. By the time the Freedom Fighters got near the village to see what had happened, all they saw were the residents and a bunch of Fire Nation making merry with each other.

The nearby village of Gaipan was already a concern, what with all their Earth Kingdom traitors living side-by-side with Fire Nation scum. And now that their prince was here? How would that sway things?

No. Jet would make sure that everyone saw the Fire Nation as the monsters they were. As he gazed at the lazy sway of the fall of autumn leaves, he knew just how he would do it.

Behind him, Smellerbee and Longshot eyed each other, wary of what was to come.

Iroh was a much more observant man than he let on. Sure he was jovial, and he made no secret of that, but he was the Dragon of the West after all. More importantly, he was also a very concerned uncle to a time travelling teenager. Which makes it no surprise that he was the one who noticed first that Zuko was not getting enough rest.

As they alighted their cramped vessels, everyone groaning and stretching their limbs that were just compressed within the confines of a glorified metal sheet and jostled against each other by the water, his eyes instinctively sought out his nephew. Not even Zuko himself noticed how he rapidly shook his head to keep himself awake as they continued on toward Gaipan, but Iroh certainly did.

It was hard to imagine a week more taxing than the one Zuko faced, and as they approached Gaipan, Iroh feared he was in for another difficult situation. The village was tiny, as if the minimum possible size required to be considered one, with each stone building minimally ornamented with green tiled roofs. To cement their austerity, the settlement was principally characterized by the sheer sandstone wall forming its perimeter. In other words, it didn't exactly look hospitable - it was a dwelling for loggers turned forgettable military outpost and it did little to be much else.

That's why it came as a pleasant surprise to Iroh when their retinue was met by a diminutive old man at the gates, who greeted the arrivals with joy.

"So, why do the people around here call you 'uncle'?" Zuko asked. When the guards that accompanied them here first called out to the man with that term, he and his uncle whipped their heads around in confusion.

Turns out, he was the village chief, and Zuko and the rest of his retinue were seated around his table in a home that was just as bare as the settlement's appearance would imply - it was a bit of a struggle just to squeeze everyone in there.

"Why, it's a term of endearment! I've been around so long I'm basically everyone's family around here."

At that, Iroh let out a comically exaggerated gasp. "Prince Zuko, you also call me uncle! That is very sweet of you!"

"Ohoh! What a charming young lad you have there!"

"...You're actually my uncle, uncle."

A round of laughs ensued at the absurdity, and even Zuko let slip his bemusement.

This is good, Iroh thought. He would gladly play the fool for a million lives more, all for a hint of a smile from his nephew.

Especially with how tense he'd been lately. This village was good for him, pleasant despite appearances. It wasn't perfect by any means - the tension between Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation was still there. But rather than being thick enough to suffocate, it was ignorable. Like a brief discomfort between two friends from opposite sides after sharing a conversation, as if they just remembered they weren't supposed to be getting along, before getting along anyway.

It was after a meal and a round of drinks that the crew were assigned to bunk across several houses to avoid an overcrowding issue, with Zuko and Iroh staying in the chief's house. Hopefully, in this peaceful environment, his dear nephew could finally get a good night's rest.

Zuko didn't always used to be a light sleeper, but he learned to be. Ever since the disappearance of his mother, the energy of his palace home changed. The lights felt dimmer, the hallways longer. The lively conversations between palace staff that formed the background noise seemed to fade, while the whispers of Ozai's ministers came unmistakably into focus. The disdainful stares that they tossed his way whether he was looking or not.

His only safe haven in a pit full of serpents was gone. Made to vanish to further the Fire Lord's goals. And in the face of the most powerful firebender in the world recently crowned, and the blue-flamed prodigy poised to succeed him, the failure prince could really only ask one question - "when will I be made to vanish too?"

So when he felt cold steel touch his neck, his eyes shot open from his slumber. Without even thinking, he swept his leg at his assailant with a wave of fire summoned forward.

"AGH!"

Their body crashed through the room door, back hitting the opposite wall of the corridor. Zuko sprung to his feet and got a look at his attacker, who similarly was recovering, hooked blades in hand.

"You?!"

"So you've heard of me," Jet smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well after today, now I've heard of you, Prince."

Before Zuko could respond, two more voices arose, undoubtedly arising from the commotion.

"ZUKO! Are you alright?"

"What in tarnation is going on out here?"

Uncle and 'uncle' emerged from their rooms, and Jet moved quickly. He grabbed the small chief under his arm, who yelped at the sudden movement, and ran out the front door.

"HEY!" Zuko yelled, scrambling out into the hallway. He and Iroh moved to follow, when two more attackers appeared, ready to stall them. It was Smellerbee and Longshot, getting their weapons ready.

"I'll leave them to you, uncle!" Zuko declared as he vaulted between them and through the front door, hands pushing off their heads for momentum.

"Oi!" "Urgh." Smellerbee and Longshot stumbled forward from that. They could barely start to right themselves when they just about saw a sudden flash of movement.

"Argh!" Longshot cried out as a palm slammed into his midsection, and he collided with the stone wall next to the entryway of the house. He fell to his backside as his bow clattered uselessly away from him.

Smellerbee caught herself out of her initial moment of shock. "Hey!" She shouted, looking from her fallen friend to the assailant with a vicious expression. But it soon turned to shock once more as her dagger was knocked swiftly out of her hand, embedding itself into the rafters.

The two freedom fighters looked at each other, then at Iroh, then at each other again. The two were told to distract the fat and doddering old man, but before his presence now, they've never felt smaller.

"Would you two youngsters mind explaining exactly why you've disturbed my nephew's sleep?" Iroh said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, as he picked them up by the scruff of their tops in each hand.

"...What answer doesn't get us clobbered?"

"Hey, what's going on?!"

Zuko ignored the cry of a Kwang who rose from all the racket, as well as a few other villagers who were up and rubbing the sleep from their eyes, as he sprinted out the gates of the village, following Jet's trail up into the hills. His quarry's haste left a clear path in the form of displaced fallen leaves, lit by remnants of moonlight. It must've been almost sunrise.

Jet… Jet, Jet, Jet.

He turned the problem over in his head. Whatever Jet was up to now, it was obviously far before the circumstances that led him to Ba Sing Se, where Zuko's first run in with him was. But other than passing mentions from Katara, he didn't have a lot of information about him from this time, other than...

If that Spirits-damned play is to be believed, then he should be calling himself a 'freedom fighter' right? Wait… the dam!

He remembered then, what the maverick was willing to do to an innocent town before his run in with the Avatar. Eyes widening, Zuko pushed himself faster.

A short while later, he found himself striding through litterfall when he heard a voice call out from above.

"Well hello there, your majesty."

The venom in those last two words were palpable as Zuko turned his head to see Jet, standing imperiously on a branch high above, framed by the reds and browns of falling leaves.

"Where is he?"

"Oh relax, he's fine." Jet pointed his thumb at another tree further down, where his hostage was hanging upside down by his ankle.

"The blood is really getting to my head though!"

"You be quiet." Jet said, before turning back to face the prince.

"What's your game here? He didn't do anything!"

"But he did. He's getting all buddy buddy with you! Anyone conspiring with Fire Nation bastards have forgotten what you've done. I'm going to remind them." Jet spread his arms wide. "So? Come and get me."

Zuko, in his frazzled state, almost took the bait. He took a firebending stance when…

CRUNCH.

The exceedingly dry leaves beneath him clued him into what Jet was trying to pull here. The exceedingly dry and very, very flammable leaves.

Going from realisation to exasperation, he sighed.

'Seriously? He's just a stupid kid.' Zuko thought.

"Seriously? You're just a stupid kid." Zuko also said out loud.

"Hey! Well whatever. I'm all the way up here, and you're-"

He didn't even get through half his sentence before Zuko cracked his knuckles and started running up the tree! His upward velocity was impressively fast as he swung and flipped from branch to branch.

"What the- Stop that!"

"I spent most of my life being bad at firebending, I don't need it for this!"

"Is that supposed to be something you're proud of?!"

Determined not to let him get the better of him, Jet jumped from tree to tree, inadvertently getting closer to the old man he snatched. But Zuko was not letting him build any distance, matching him at every step.

"You're supposed to be a prince, not an acrobat!" Jet frustratedly yelled.

Zuko thought about a certain circus girl he knew, who would've undoubtedly caught her prey by now. "Oh this is nothing."

Jet growled, mistaking Zuko's genuine remark as braggadocio, but smirked when he saw the massive gap between trees up ahead that led to his under construction base. The only link between here and there being a single zipline.

"Yeah? Well try this!" Jet unsheathed his twin hookblades, catching them onto the line and sliding down onto the wooden platform built into the massive tree.

But Zuko didn't miss a step.

With a grunt of effort, he leapt after Jet, caught onto line, and used his momentum to swing his legs forward before letting go.

"Oh you've gotta be kidding m-OOF"

Zuko lauched himself feet first into Jet's chest. The leader of the freedom fighters flew back, while Zuko himself barely righted himself. He almost didn't make it!

"Yep, definitely no Ty Lee…" He grumbled under his breath.

His reminiscing was cut short by a yell, followed by a slash he narrowly dodged out of. Jet didn't let up, following it up with slash after slash, but Zuko ducked and weaved around his opponent's telegraphed motions. Jet was a little overdramatic and under practiced. But when one of the slashes led seamlessly into a returning movement with the guard of the hilt as the attacking point? Zuko was caught by surprise and stumbled backwards. In front of his shocked eyes, as if in slow motion, a falling leaf stalled - and then was bisected.

'His guard is bladed. Of course, the guard of his hookswords are bladed. Sure, why not?'

Falling back to his behind, Zuko had to start scrambling backwards as the blades came down hard and fast. The floorboards where he was moments ago getting turned to splinters as he shuffled away. But the relentless attack left Jet out of breath, and as he slowed, Zuko saw his opening. He shot up to his feet and grabbed the wrist Jet was swinging with mid swing, and twisted his whole arm. In the wrong direction.

"AARGH!" With a cry of pain, the sword was holding in said hand clattered to the ground. Before Zuko could pick it up though…

"OUGH."

Jet jumped with both feet of the ground and dropkicked Zuko right in the gut, getting free of the hold and sending both bodies flying away from each other. The two hit the wood again with a slam.

""Ugh…""

Jet propped himself up on his elbows. Zuko lifted his head from his prone position. Between them was the dropped sword.

""...""

A second of stillness passed. A breeze whistled. The leaves rustled.

Then in a flash, both got up and sprinted to the fallen blade!

"Aha!"

By a hair, Zuko got to it first, but his celebration was short lived as Jet tackled him through a wooden handrail, right off the platform.

"Are you crazy?!"

"RAAAGH!"

They tangled mid-air as they fell through the canopies. Jet held Zuko by the front of his shirt, but Zuko headbutted him back!

SLAM!

They impacted another half-built wooden platform, integrated much lower on the tree than where they came. So far was the fall that they bounced and ended up away from each other, in contrast to the intertwined mess they were on the way down.

"Fuck."

That was all Zuko could manage to say, lying on his back and in pain.

"Language, young man!"

Turning his head, he came face to face with the upside down village chief.

"If the Fire Lord taught you to talk like that, then forget your rebellion, I'll go over there and teach him a lesson myself!"

"What?"

"Ow... I should not have yelled. My head feels like it's going to burst..."

Choosing to withstand the hurt rather than continue this conversation, Zuko groggily got to his feet, looking across the platform and seeing Jet do the same. This time though? Zuko felt much more confident. Even after the tumble, he still held the hooksword tightly in his grip.

"Listen to me," Zuko said eyeing down his opponent. "I am not your enemy."

"Yeah, nice try." Jet replied, dusting himself off. "You'd probably be more convincing if we didn't just spend the last however long it's been beating each other up."

"You literally started it!"

"Did not!"

With that brief exchange over, both roared as they ran at each other, sword in hand. Steel sparked against steel as they traded strikes. Jet was good, there was no doubt about that. If he was self-trained, Zuko might even call him a prodigy. But the prince was trained by Master Piandao himself. So it went that Zuko began pushing him back - each swing Jet sending getting swiftly parried, and each of Zuko's retaliatory attacks rattling Jet's arms as he attempted to block them.

As he got pushed back again, Jet's back suddenly hit something. The trunk of the tree. In that moment of surprise, Zuko saw the finishing blow. A knee to the gut saw Jet's grip on his blade weaken, and Zuko hooked the swords in each other and pulled it away from Jet's grasp. Disarmed, Jet looked for a way out. But Zuko swung his arm back around, Jet's sword caught on his like two links in a chain, and with a THUNK the sword that Jet had held in his hand was now embedded into the bark, by the bladed guard, on the right side of his head. He was trapped. He could only watch as Zuko, with the one remaining sword, spun around and swung at him from the left, with the blunt side of the hook. Jet squeezed his eyes shut and braced his skull for the crunch.

But all he felt was the tailwind brush past the tips of his shaggy hair. A swing that happened, but never connected. Opening his eyes, he saw Zuko standing over him, arm outstretched with sword in hand, hovering right above his head.

"So… You gonna finish the job, or-"

BONK.

Zuko just bopped him one with a blank expression on his face.

"Ow! BONK Hey- BONK Wha- BONK Stop it!"

Zuko groaned, laying his free palm on his face. "You're just a stupid kid."

Jet lifted an eyebrow. "You keep saying that. We literally look the same age- BONK Ow!"

"For your information, I'm actually trying to stop this stupid war."

"You're the freaking prince. You're the enemy. Seeing you schmooze it up with that village means that they are too."

"So what? You wanted me to burn this forest down to teach them a lesson?"

"That or get them to open their eyes. Fire Nation can't be trusted."

"There you are!"

The interruption of their conversation by the third voice had both the boys turn their heads to the source. Below them was Iroh, Kwang, Smellerbee, and Longshot. The latter two held what looked like some kind of meat bun on their hand, and were making their way through them fast.

'Why… why are they all getting along?!'

"Jet! I don't think we should do this anymore." Smellerbee called out mid bite, shaking Jet out of his thoughts.

Zuko looked back to Jet, who had a stunned expression on his face. "Are your friends the enemy too then?"

Jet could only scrunch his features, clearly thinking things over.

"Forget about me for a second," Zuko continued. "Do you really think that harassing this village will end the war? Or kidnapping this old man?"

"I'm 72 years young actually!"

"Think about who you're fighting, just for a second! You know that village is not who you're angry at." Ignoring the chime in, Zuko continued. "Even I'm not who you're angry at."

Zuko flipped the hooksword in his hand so he was holding it by the blade, and offered it to his fallen foe.

"You're smart. Figure it out. Learn to point these swords at the right people."

The sun was well above the horizon now, and the light filtered upon them through the trees. An unfamiliar voice spoke up then.

"Jet, we signed up to fight those who would terrorize us. Not them." Longshot said.

"You can talk?!" Kwang yelled in surprise.

"They're actually pretty cool!" Smellerbee helpfully added, grinning at the burly man's shock.

"If you don't want to listen to me, then maybe you should listen to your subordinates, oh fearless leader."

"Tch. I know that." Jet frowned at Zuko for the sarcastic epithet, but he took the grip and made his way to his feet all the same.

"My freedom fighters, turned by meat buns." The prince tensed, but Jet brushed past Zuko towards the hanging village chief, and with one stroke, cut the rope.

"Aah! Oh. I'm okay!" The elder called out, fall cushioned by a hefty pile of fallen leaves.

Jet turned to face Zuko again. From the closed off way he stood, and the suspicion in his eyes, he clearly still had his reservations. Perhaps it was good fortune that Zuko and his crew found themselves here, now. Given another year, the freedom fighters might have reacted differently. Another year of stewing in their hatred, their fear, and the Jet that was in front of Zuko would turn into the Jet that Zuko heard about from Katara. The Jet that Zuko met in Ba Sing Se. But the one in front of him now responded differently.

"I'll… hear what you have to say."

With that, the two made their way down and towards the others. And by that, they hobbled. Their injuries still stung something fierce. When they reached, Jet started to say something.

"Let's talk- are you serious?"

But Zuko didn't even register the words, making his way to his uncle and instantly falling asleep against him. Iroh chuckled with a loving smile, and put his hand on Zuko's back, rubbing it tenderly. For a firebender to sleep in the morning of all things meant that they really needed it.

"All's well that ends well."

Like a curse, the moment those words were uttered by the general, a loud creaking was heard. They all turned toward the freedom fighter treetop base, now absolutely battered, and in a second, it fell apart.

They all cringed at the loud boom as well as, for the freedom fighters, the destruction of all their hard work. Kwang, to his credit, held in his laugh for a second, but guffaw he did. Zuko just snored.

"Well, mostly."