First of all, a big shout-out to ML8991! Huge parts of this chapter were written by him or under his direction. The planning that went into his scenes was enormous and challenging for both of us, and he did wonders with getting us through those scenes and with such a variety of narration and imagery. This chapter would not stand as it is now without him… I admire him for his courage to work through writing these scenes, and I was glad to not have to face writing them, because they were that overwhelming in complexity. Despite facing all this, he always made sure that his ideas and writings would align to my visions for the story as the main-author.
I enjoyed switching roles for a little bit and I hope he did too, despite the difficulties. He is a wonderful co-author and though the road was rocky and slow, we made it through and with every part, it is less
mine and more our work as a team!
And as shoutout to all of you reviewers, thank you so much for recognizing us as such, as a team!
-ystävä

Chapter 12 Who You Are!

The blankness of the space was absolute, and yet, in this darkness, Zuko could feel there was something before him. He took what he reasoned was a step in this non-space, and ripples spread out, sparkling iridescent lights in three different spokes away from him, calling him forward. Another step forward, and three arches rose before him, much like the shrine arches back home. Each showed signs of age, but somehow they drew themselves to him as if he were in a trance. The worn wooden ways towered overhead, dwarfing Zuko and dominating his field of view as he came to another stop equidistant from the two main archways.

The arch to his left, if such a place could be determined in this emptiness, called to him, thrumming with a deep power, primal, raw. And as he walked towards it, a great fire roared out, making Zuko stumble backwards in alarm, but from the inferno, shapes formed. A wise man with sharp features surveyed a map and shouted voiceless words to his subordinates. A start and Zuko recognised the man.

The man's arms roared out a blaze of fire that formed into a battalion of marching troops, gold eyes shining with excitement as he asked if that's what his cousin would wear.

Zuko watched as the scene morphed into a grotesque image on parchment, having a caricature air nomad-like figure, but made feral, vile and truly repulsive. In its hands it thrust out a great gale, which looked to sweep out over the Fire Nation. Zuko knew, after time and Uncle's gentle wisdom, that what the image showed was not true. His many years of searching the world for anything on the former people of Air told him that the nomads were not to blame for the image's accusation. The storms that wrecked the Fire Nation in the years before the war had been harrowing, yes, but they were not caused by Air. Freaks of nature, Uncle had said, as Zuko had raged out that particular lesson, not wanting to heed any word against the War. But he could remember the words his Uncle had said, and the image itself. Tutor Furuiuso had shown it to him during his studies on the conquered nations, spreading the false lies of the storms being caused by the Nomads. This evil they needed to destroy, he had intoned. They had brought nothing but misery and desolation to their great nation, allowing the storms to come, and lay ruin to the hapless Fire Nation.

The flames blurred into a gale, as houses, crops, lives brushed aside without thought, as the boy tugged at his mum's sleeve as if to ask if this still happened.

At least that's what Furuiuso had said was Sozin's justification, and why the Fire Nation was right to declare war, it was just defending their shores from these callous and wayward savages. The image changed one last time as the sky turned red, tinting rivers and temples in varying shades of crimson.

All is awash in the burning glow of the Great Comet, and all is lost in a day, lost in fire, ash and smoke, to time and memory themselves. It would be many years before another would return here.

A youth picked up a skull and lamented its size. It had been only a babe, a toddler at most, as his legs, his eye, burned in pain, in sympathy. His father, his uncle, called out to him, telling him to turn back, to let the past die. The boy stopped and denied his elder's wishes, and he began the effort to clear them away. But by the time he came to the last temple, he had lost the will, and left it as bare as he could; it wasn't enough. Perhaps it never would be, he sighed, as his legs, his eye, burn.

Today is the day the boy becomes a man, today is the day a boy realises the truth, but can't accept it. Today he vows to do better.

.

The scene wavered, and a blast of cool air rushed into the cavernous nothing as steel ships locked battle against blue sailed drua, brushing them aside and turning their wood, cloth and flesh to ashes on the unforgiving waters. Quickly, a great city arose in the distance, but this was not the Northern Tribe Zuko could remember, the walls aligned differently, the bay of the harbour was too shallow. He gasped, as he realised at once that this was the Southern Tribe, and he hung his head in dismay as the great ringed wall came crumbling down to an onslaught mix of catapult fire and bending. But still, some of the tribe people resisted, and great thrusts of ice spikes cut through the Fire Nations lines like they weren't there, but more came, and soon a selection of the benders was being rounded up and captured.

A pudgy hand pulled a paper tab, and the wall came crashing down, the little hands clapping with glee.

The scene then repeated, only this time the ring wall had not been repaired, its gate a wide maw for the troops to storm through as they marched over the ruins of the former wall, laying waste to any of the houses, making sure to level the Chief's Palace, to crush the spirits of a once-proud people. The vision's scene moved closer, closing in on a man that handed some beads to his young son, before pushing him away as he was being bound by the Fire Nation. Outside, a ring had formed around one last bender, who stood defiant, but soon slumping in defeat as she, too, was carried away.

The evil lady with wild hair and mad eyes was put into the ship, the boy uncurled himself.

Finally, after what seemed like many years had passed for the tribe, a new wave of troops landed, and a woman shooed a young girl away, pushing a necklace into her little hands, telling her to go and find her father. The little girl didn't want to go, but her mother insisted as she raised her head. Zuko staggered, the mother was a dead ringer for Katara… that must mean this little girl was… no… Katara!? The necklace caught his eye, confirming his assumption just as fire roared in the igloo, drowning out the woman's screams. The raider left just before a man with white and blue beads came running in, kneeling down to cradle the unrecognisable form of his wife. Little Katara watched in horror, crying into the shoulder of her brother, who stood in the doorway, shock also written on his face.

A village left, small, distant, insignificant, as it was stomped underfoot in the Great March of Progress, as the last page was turned over by a delicate, noble, hand.

.

Young Sokka's face faded into a deep twilight as stars appeared in the arch, at least they seemed to be at first. But a bright glare of dawn's first light proved Zuko wrong, it wasn't the sky he was looking at, it was a camp. A camp of unimaginable size and scale, and before it all, was a monolith he had only heard of in words and ink. Ba. Sing. Se.

The void grew cold and Zuko's stomach curdled as he could only imagine what he would see. The view rushed to the command tent, emblazoned with the Imperial Phoenix, its banners flapping in the wind, a fresh-faced Crown Prince rose with the dawn sun, Iroh.

Everyone knew the way to the Palace, it loomed in the centre of the Caldera, so Miko knew her way.

Uncle's face was unwearied, his hair not grey, and when he strode into the dawn, his men greeted him with rapt attention. Coming just beside him was a figure that pained Zuko to see: his cousin, the Heir of the Dragon, Prince Lu Ten. Together, father and son rallied their men, a united front for a united end to the war. The archers aligned to the front, the catapults wheeled forward, now metal monstrosities made in the fires of war.

Miko arrived at the palace, and her Royal superior, Kyogen, took over, delivering the news of the front at a leisurely pace, alongside the two finely wrapped gifts in store. A likely appeasement for the two children, he thought absently, as he handed the report to Fire Lord Azulon, who had retired to his study, and to Princess Ursa, Prince Ozai being unsurprisingly absent from these affairs concerning his brother.

Much as the great siege weapons had proven effective against the Water Tribe, the Impenetrable city of Ba Sing Se held true to its name, with Crown Prince Iroh standing resolute as the wall stood strong. Zuko watched on as a minor skirmish, headed by an Earth Kingdom general, or at least someone claiming to be, came to a close. It soon did, knife blade knocked to the ground, the opposing general broken, humbled, as Iroh pushed his head towards the Great Outer Wall, as mother-of-pearl glinted in the light of fire and sun.

The two children crowded around Princess Ursa, excitement in their faces, until it came to the gifts.

Iroh, having defeated the General, and sensing a lull in the battle, took a stance and drew his hands out.

The gifts were handed.

His hands rotated.

The gifts were regarded.

Yin

The doll.

Yang.

The knife.

Sparks appear.

The pearl handle glints in the torch light.

The hands close, and a great bolt appears.

Jealous eyes burn.

The wall crashes down, in fire and blood.

Siblinghood undone, in fire and blood.

The breach is assaulted and for a brief few moments, Ba Sing Se becomes Na Sing Se.

Prince Lu Ten, Light of the Nation, is first though, and the first to fall, his cries of pain lost amidst the rest. The Great Wall had hidden a death trap, and no more does that light burn.

As the scene faded to black, Zuko saw Iroh, maddened with his fire flirting to unfeeling blue as he spewed flames from his mouth, and cold, heartless, lightning flew from his fingers, tearing the wall to ruin as far as the eye could see.

All had changed, the image cracked as it grew cold in the void, a period of stillness overcame Zuko in mind, body and soul. The void, too, had stilled as Zuko stood there, wondering if that was all that the gateway could show him, but gradually faint light appeared inside the arch before him: red, blue, red, blue. A dance. A most beautiful, deadly dance. As the scene unfolded, Zuko recognised the throne room with a start: Two figures sent great gouts of flame towards one another. The blue then, he knew, must be his sister, but who was the other?

The flames roared, and as with the Nomads, Zuko could almost feel the raw heat from the flames while the throne room collapsed around them, the sky burning through, though neither combatant took notice. The figure turned to Azula and shouted out "no lightning today, 'Zula? Must say I'm disappointed", and Zuko was struck to recognise his own voice. Was this the future? Zuko was transfixed as Azula laughed maniacally and sent a tongue of lightning at the phantom Zuko, who only threw it out the way, splintering a support column to nothing, with the roof caving down. The pair moved steadily into the room and Zuko felt a stone drop in his stomach as he noticed the floor. It was the war map. His creation. His end. The painted map's world was awash in a bloody red, the Fire Nation had won. But why were he and Azula fighting, a question which Azula's phantom answered. "Such a shame daddy can't see you now Zuzu, perhaps he would, for once, be proud of you." she cackled, sending another bolt out, which the vision of Zuko only cast aside yet again, catching the war table alight in its fury.

But as always, Azula proved stronger, and with a final great bolt she distracted her brother as she incinerated the air behind it. The shade stood no chance, and nor did the room. Azula laughed madly as she ascended the steps to the throne, and she looked out from her mighty roost beyond the ruins of the palace to a throne room burnt, to a nation burnt, to a world burnt. And with one great breath, like snuffing out a candle, darkness lay in the deep.

Zuko staggered back, his head in his hands, denying what he had seen, as whispers lulled him soothingly to the opposite arch. He tried rejecting its call, not wanting to see what horrors this side might bring, but his feet dragged him along unwillingly, until he was forced to stand there, and gaze once more into another gaping chasm.

00000

"Sokka, help us unload Appa." Katara called out, refusing to even look at him. Sokka looked at Toph hesitatingly, hopefully, and when the girl only puffed her bangs and turned her head away, he reluctantly approached the group once more. He carefully helped move the sleeping bags and cooking utensils from Appa's saddle until the only thing left was Zuko's continuously twitching form.

"What are we gonna do with him?" he asked, squatting down next to him. He grabbed one of the Prince's hands, which was cold and clammy to the touch. This struck him as weird, sickly. "He feels cold, aren't firebenders supposed to be like living furnaces?"

"You get away from him!" Toph called out angrily from where she stood nearby. "You have no right to touch him!" She made her way over, guarding the gaunt Zuko against the Water Tribe Warrior.

"It's not like I'm doing anything to hurt him, Toph. I think he's sick, we shouldn't leave him out in the open." he started, trying to keep his tone placating.

"I'm not gonna do anything to have him locked in again, especially not just because you want me to!" She accused, her unseeing eyes glaring his way.

"Flying hog monkeys, that's not what I meant!" said Sokka futilely, his efforts of peace failing.

"Hey guys, calm down, I'll airbend him down, alright? Then Katara can have another look at him." Aang interrupted, in a moderating voice. "Now step out of the way, Sokka, please." The Airbender regarded him levelly as Sokka shuffled out the way.

Soon Zuko was laying in front of Appa, and Aang made quick work of unsaddling the sky bison after Sokka had jumped down. Katara immediately made her way over to the comatose Firebender, touching his forehead, then gently shaking him to try and wake him up. Zuko was still out cold, though. She finally settled for holding his hand, which was indeed way colder than she had expected.

Appa leaned over, gently nudging the Firebender with his nose and sending a warm breath over him, concern for the Prince apparent with each gentle prod. He groaned quietly and lifted one giant paw to make room between one of his many legs, just like he'd done the first days Zuko had been with them.

"I think he's telling you to let him take care of Zuko." Aang called over, Momo on his shoulder. Katara nodded in mute agreement and gently tugged Zuko closer to Appa, sure that he would provide Zuko with more warmth than Zuko's lumpy blanket ever could. Thinking about it some more, the only reason they had moved his sleeping quarters away from Appa had been Sokka's demand to have him locked up. She didn't see the need now.

Zuko was sick, though how and what had made him sick, she didn't know. And he'd never tried running away before either, now that she thought about it. She wondered why he hadn't, he hated them, and he didn't really seem all that determined to kidnap Aang these days. Instead, he kept a careful distance from the airbender. He didn't try to gain their trust, he had just been there and did what they asked of him when they asked and lent a hand anyway if they didn't.

She got him situated between the bison's many legs and left him in Appa's care.

The group continued to set up camp, then sat down near Appa as a source of warmth, since they didn't have any firewood left. Katara sat down close to Zuko, who still hadn't moved, leaning over to touch his forehead again, but her gaze rose when she heard Toph's voice.

"So, Sokka, I've been thinking. You said 'How was I supposed to know he would take Zuko?'. Does that mean you would have traded any of us?!..." Toph said dangerously lightly and Sokka blanched with her implication and was just about to sputter a denial when Toph continued. "... hmm, yes, I think it does!" she glared.

"Toph," said Aang appeasingly, trying to get between the two. "I'm sure he didn't mean that, it probably was a spur of the moment kinda thing."

"And that excuses it?" Toph shifted her glare to Aang

"Well, no, but…" Aang stumbled over the words.

"But what? Care to explain yourself, Sokka?" Toph snapped her head back to Sokka so fast, he'd almost be worried for her if he wasn't so worried for himself.

"Uhh, I'm sorry, alright, I… I wasn't thinking. Really Toph, I won't do it again, alright? I can't undo it though, just, let it go… please?" he pleaded.

Aang held a calming hand to Sokka. "Hey Sokka, it'll be alright, we know you're not a bad guy. We know!"

"Hah, nah, totally not bad, only trying to save his own hide. He was risking his sister, who he always claims to have to protect, and he was risking you, Aang, the future of this world. Who are you trying to fool?"

Katara had turned around. "Toph, we all made it out alright, it's done, let's move on."

"Are we all, really? Are you sure this isn't Wan Shi Tong's doing that has Sparky like this now? We can't wake him up, and he's obviously distressed." Toph ground out.

"It might just be nightmares." he weakly argued.

"We were able to wake him up from those before. He just won't be roused now." she snapped back.

"He woke up after Wan Shi Tong." Aang piped in.

"Come on Toph, this is not getting us anywhere. Even if this is Wan Shi Tong's doing, what can we do?" Katara intervened, clearly not wanting the fight to get more out of hand.

"The Avatar, can't he do something?" Toph said somewhat sarcastically.

"Uhm, you see," Aang said carefully. "I don't think he's in the Spirit World. His yuán qì seems to still be in his body, but it is weak. And I saw him fighting Wan Shi Tong, he managed to get him to fall off the railing. He won."

Toph mumbled some curses, then turned back to her initial target. "Anyway, Sokka, you sacrificed him, if Aang hadn't gotten him out, he'd be dead, and it'd be your fault. And you know what: All he did here, outside, was fight sandbenders, so they wouldn't take Appa. He was recognised, but only because he risked being discovered by entering the fray. They wanted him for a reward and there's no doubt that he knows about that bounty on his head. He risked everything to keep all members of the group safe. Unlike you!"

Her words silenced the group, a bit taken aback by her aggressive tone. She continued:

"So, how are you gonna make it up to Sparks, Sokka?"

"Uh, Toph please, I... I don't know, alright? I'll be nicer to him. But you have to realise that he's not one of us, of course he's working with us now. He has nowhere to go but us, we're in a desert, but someday he might turn on us."

"It's your fault that he had to face Wan Shi Tong in the first place! You risked his life. And I know he doesn't want to be recruited to our cause, but with the way you treat him, I wouldn't blame him either, if he really turned on us someday, instead of becoming interested in joining us."

The group was still, as her words sunk in. No one knew what to say and Sokka just sat down, in his corner, looking down, ashamed.

00000

The maw of the tall arch grew cold as Zuko gazed into its depths, as the scene morphed into a maelstrom. Zuko's heart grew as cold as the air around him as he recognised the scene. The Storm. In his three years at sea he had never seen anything like it, nor had his crew when he asked them, after the worst of it had passed. But Zuko was confused, why was he being shown this?

He saw the shade of his past self, rooted in place on the ship, looking out to the rapidly disappearing speck that was Appa. Former Zuko let out a puff of exhaustion, as he walked away.

He didn't understand, why was he being shown his continuous failure?

Zuko looked longer, closer, he had no choice, the arch demanded his attention, drew him in. It was the distortion of the shadow that finally shook him from his reverie of looking at his past self. A series of ghostly chains bound his shade to the deck of the ship. Undetectable around his physical form, their shadowy representation starkly stood out against the metal of the vessel, while a translucent vice trapped his hands. No!

Memories of being bound to the market square were quickly squashed down. He'd been free at that time, this was his mind mixing up memories, wasn't it? So why was he being shown trapped, it simply didn't make any sense.

But then the Zuko before the arch noticed something. While his ship tied shade wasn't moving exactly like the aethereal body casting it, there still was an uncanny resemblance in their movements. Stilted from frustration, movements jerky, the ship bound prince moved not unlike one trapped in chains. How could this be, he was free now, how could, no, how did he escape such turmoil.

That was when Zuko saw it, a golden glint over his apparition's heart. A key. A simple thing, delicate, and easy to miss, but it was still there, catching the weak sunlight like rubies and gold. A way out of the predicament, Zuko realised that this was what it was at once. Yet, his former self had clearly ignored the heavy binds and never paused to find the key. The answer. Had it really been there all along? How had his former self not seen what was so apparent from the outside? Had freedom from the curse of his father's esteem really just been to follow his heart?

Was that what he was doing now? He mentally cried.

A whisper: "never forget who you are" passed by him in the non-place, and the scene faded, air flickering. Blackness curled in on itself, as a solitary light passed through the space. The next scene soon manifested, and Zuko stook back in shock, Mother. Ursa had looked much like the day she had in Zuko's blurry memory, red hooded and hidden, but her gaze and her gait were steady as she made her way through the palace.

Through hallway and garden, Ursa's path was one that even Zuko couldn't recall. She came to a hidden corner of the palace where no moonlight reached. A twist of a lock, and then just the gentlest of pushes on the hidden door, and Ursa moved into the small cupboard-like space. Zuko jolted in shock, he had never known this existed in the palace, how did his mother? Surrounding the Princess were shelves filled with flowers and powders and liquids, things Zuko couldn't hope to recognise. But his mother deliberately plucked the leaf of one flower, crushed it with some vile looking yellow powder, and poured a simple clear liquid into the mix. Then, with a pluck of mint and a dash of sugar, Ursa stopped the colourless concoction as she left this space.

The path to the Fire Lord's chambers was not a difficult one for a Princess of the household, and since Fire Lady Ilah's passing, Ursa commanded the household as was her right as Senior female royal. Through the Royal Gallery, past generations of Fire Lords, to the legends that this nation had been built on, and there it was.

It had always surprised her that Fire Lord Sozin had placed his chambers so close to the throne room, but no matter, she carried her pot and entertained the guards' notions, merely stating she wishes to have tea with her beloved father-in-law, as she often had done as of late. They shrugged, and let her through. Although this was Ursa's first time in the private wing of the Fire Lord and his heir's family, it was obvious which door to go through. She took a deep breath and entered the end room.

Zuko gasped quietly, the noise taking up the still air in the non-space, it was surreal to him to see the domain of the Fire Lord, a room he had thought for so long now he would never see.

Azulon was not surprised to see his daughter-in-law come through the door. Since Iroh had left for Ba Sing Se, she and he had indulged in continuing the tradition that his eldest had started with him. And so the ritual began, but Azulon noticed something was off with Ursa. Whereas usually, her moves were smooth and regal, today they were jittery and slow.

Zuko was confused now as he watched on. What was his mother going to do? This didn't make sense.

"My child, please sit down, don't be afraid, what is wrong?" purred the old dragon as he finished the rest of the ceremony, dutifully filling both cups with the fine tea. He lifted one and took a delicate sip as Ursa answered.

"My Lord, you intend to kill my son, my boy, and in what, some power-play to curb Ozai?" Ursa shook, grief and rage wracking through her like a blizzard, noticeably not joining her Lord in drinking, Azulon passed this off as a mother's passion however.

"My dear, where have you heard such rumours?" Azulon cooed out, keeping his tone steady, as he took another sip from his tea.

"Azula, she said she heard your decree to Ozai that his firstborn should die." shuddered Ursa, her rage abating, but still, he noticed, not drinking the tea.

Zuko dared not look, he had figured it out already. His Mother had killed Azulon. The revelation brought him down to his knees. Blood may be thicker than water, but poison is thicker still.

"No my child, I meant for him to have time from Ozai, Iroh could teach the boy so much more. And after all, Iroh is too old now to have another heir, so he could have Zuko, and the girl, Azula, could serve as Ozai and yours until you had another, you are still young, Ursa, you can bear another."

A sob choked from mother.

A sob choked from son.

"You take my son from me, and expect me to be happy for Iroh's happiness." Her voice cracked and went high, tears threatening to spill, she took a breath to regain some control before continuing. "What of the boy, what of Zuko, how can you forsake him from me and his family?"

"My daughter, I would never do such a thing. Zuko would still be your son, on these grounds. He –" Azulon paused, as if something was stuck in his throat "he would," a hacking cough "he would still be your son" choked out Azulon, son of Sozin just before he started doubling over.

Ursa surged forward to catch him, blinking back tears as she helped him up and across the quarters. The Fire Lord swayed and leaned heavily onto his daughter-in-law, breath wheezing, until she gently guided him onto his bed.

"I'm sorry." she said, voice tight as she grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. His hand tightened around hers automatically. "I'm sorry it all came to this, it was the only way, but at least it won't take long." Tears started spilling now.

Azulon moved his mouth to talk, though no sound came out. His eyes were starting to droop.

"I don't think you've realised quite how much Ozai wants that throne. He never cared much for Zuko, and now you've made him a direct threat to the throne, how did you not see that? Iroh may have been a better father, but Ozai, Ozai would have done anything to get Zuko out of the picture."

As Azulon's grip on her hand weakened, Ursa continued in a broken voice. "I never wanted this, but even if Zuko wouldn't have been killed today or tomorrow, as Iroh's he would have never been safe, this way he will be, for the time being. It is a mother's duty to protect her son and I don't regret it."

The hand she'd held had relaxed, eyes had slowly dimmed and fallen shut. Azulon, Agni's Chosen, Scourge of the Water Tribes, and Fire Lord, looked peaceful now. She knew, he could no longer hear her and soon his heart would stop beating and he'd pass on.

It felt like his own heart had stopped at that moment. Zuko didn't dare breathe. Azula was right but so wrong at the same time. His mother had killed his grandfather, for Zuko. He once again felt privy to knowledge he shouldn't know. A black ink began to spill from the arch, the wretched smell of poison tainted the empty chasm. Zuko shed away, but still, the vision continued.

Ursa ran from the room, the former tears she had shed for what could have been covered, shrouded as if by a Noh mask. The way to her husband's chambers was easy from here. She eased her way in, to be met with a violent grip. "Is it done?" he hissed.

Zuko quaked at even the shade that was his father, the man's malice permeating the stagnant air.

Ursa sighed, "Yes, now let me see my son and daughter."

"Ah, ah, ah. You know the sentence for sedition and treason. But I am feeling generous. You are hereby banished. Your title, lands, and dignities are forfeit to the Dragon Crown, you are cast out. Pack your things and go, Futeyama Ursa, be gone from my sight." stated Fire Lord Ozai, a malevolent grin captured in the low light, as Ursa hurried away through the quarter's gardens.

She was still alive, she wasn't dead, the Spirit wasn't lying. Zuko breathed heavily, as the shade of his mother dissolved from view in the void. He tried to reach out, but the shade disappeared into ash and nothingness.

But as Zuko had come to expect, the visions didn't end, as the vision shifted into daylight, and onto a different still and calm garden, which looked out onto a wide plateau with a grand rock edifice standing watch over the plain. A tight bun hid the man from view, and Zuko had no clue to his identity. Although austere in stance, the gentleness of the motions soothed Zuko somehow, like this was right.

Black smoke rose from the mountain of industry, Zuko could only make out crude shapes as hammer wrought itself into heavy stone.

The man took hold of a trowel and gently prised the larkspur flowers out of the soil.

Machines ripped cherry trees down and ground them into the muddy dirt.

The man dug down, and was confused to find a sweet briar. He didn't recall him or Rina ever planting such a plant, but he shrugged it off, the plant was still beautiful, and he had wanted to give something to his wife.

The stone was rendered asunder as rock gave way to ore, iron. With the metal wrought, the old world shall fall to Fire's industry.

Unaware and calm, the man twisted gently, the plant coming easily. He stood and rose up, gazing in curiosity at the beauty of the flower.

Zuko reeled back, it was like looking in a reflection. He had always thought he looked like Ozai, but it was clear he looked like him too. A forgotten name, Jinzuk, whispered in Zuko's ear.

The visions flickered once more, back to the wrought iron, glowing, hammered and quenched.

The man walked to the top of the garden, where his wife lay, their baby girl babbling at their feet. She tried to reach for it, but Jinzuk chided: "Na ah Ursa, this one is for mummy." The babe pouted, the son's heart cried at the parallel between mother and daughter, as the fine flower was passed to Rina, the mother, who looked up from her scroll, and set aside her cup of tea.

The cooled metal moved onto a faceless soldier, he was getting his fitting done, ready for war, painted in blood, and clothed in carnage. The cold metal doesn't care.

Rina, of fair beauty, much like her daughter would become, and granddaughter after her, welcomed her husband's offering to her, the fair flower most beautiful of all.

The mask was slotted on, the soldier marched into war, meeting his opponent on the fields of iron. The metal felt the song of its brothers, but held firm.

Delicate hands met, and in an instance, a prick, and a drop of blood fell down.

The battle was swift, the metal joined its brothers, a flood of blood swarmed through the rent hole in its centre, its bearer dead.

Zuko paused now, "I can't be? Can I?" The bird was right so far, but no, he wasn't the descendant of an Avatar, no. But the gnawing void drew his gaze inwards, and all thoughts against this turned aside. Like the best of plays, as thoughts catch up, the scene moves on, the pool of blood soaking into the rich fabrics and woods of the great chamber.

The scene unfolded, two men of equal stature and age gazed at each other. Zuko shed away from the image, the angry face of Sozin blazed out as he addressed the man before him, all pleasantries removed.

"How dare you, Roku, a citizen of the Fire Nation, address your Fire Lord in this way. Your loyalty is to our nation first, anything less makes you a traitor."

"I have forgotten my place?" Roku scoffed boldly in the face of the Fire Lord "I have seen the colonies Sozin, how dare you occupy Earth Kingdom Territory. I warned you before, and I warn you again, stop this now." demanded the Avatar, towering in a cold rage, his straight hair set in as sharp lines as his furious face, noble robes settled around him.

"Why should I? We are sharing our greatness with the world, the people of the Earth Kingdom should be grateful for our benevolence. Are you defying the will of the Fire Lord, and thus the will of Agni himself? Do you question me?" growled out Sozin, his posture growing tenser by the moment.

"Don't do this Sozin, don't challenge me. I have lived a thousand lifetimes, and will live a thousand more. Raava holds a higher court than Agni, your efforts would be futile." Roku stated flatly, his eyes flashing a dangerous white, the Spirit of Light barely being contained by her mortal vessel.

The young prince could feel the palpable tension between the pair. He had heard tales that the old palace had been damaged in the reign of Sozin, but there was no record of how, only that extensive reworks were needed, especially around the ancient Dragon Throne.

With a great shout, Fire Lord Sozin surged forward, his fire like a gale, incinerating anything that dared bare its path. But when the roaring haze of the blaze disappeared, Roku was nowhere to be seen. All of a sudden, a quick split of the earth and Roku reappeared, except it wasn't him. The Avatar stood before the Fire Lord, and perhaps for the first time in his life, Sozin knew fear. With barely a blink, the Avatar split the columns, rendered the floor to disorder, and collapsed the roof. The old Palace was in ruin. In the middle of it all stood Sozin, mounted on high.

With barely subdued rage, the Avatar disappeared and Roku returned. On a vortex of air, he issued his command: "By Summer's end, the colonies are to be disbanded, the troops returned home, and this folly of greatness shall be over lest, as Kyoshi did to Chin, I lay an end to your false pretences of grandeur, there and then. Goodbye Sozin, I hope we never need to meet again."

The scene rippled as time moved by, Sozin grew old, his black hair turning white, the scene briefly resolved itself to show Roku overseeing the standing down of the troops and the abandonment of the fledgling Earth Kingdom colonies. It seemed that Sozin had taken heed of his warning and that Sozin had committed to the fulfilment of the Avatar's decree.

But too quickly did the scene change once again, and Roku and Sozin stood together once last time: Sozin this time above his former friend, as Roku stood hacking in the soot-covered air.

"Sozin, help me. We can end this, all of this." gasped Roku, struggling to breathe while he feebly swept a hand out, as if to encompass more than just the hard rock beneath them.

Sozin stooped low, an all too familiar sneer on his face, "No. We have only just begun," he whispered sinisterly to his former friend, as Bhasma swooped in and took him away, leaving Roku in the ashy ground.

The scene moved again, and a familiar room drew into frame, the war room.

A shadow of smoke and flame spoke from above, looking down on a full room of seasoned, but nervous, generals and admirals.

"With the recreation of the colonies, and the prosperity they enjoy, we must extend this wider to the world. With the Temples of Air being on our doorstep, and their... reluctance to help preserve the arrangements made by my illustrious ancestor, Fire Lord Yosor, we must illuminate them to the path of greatness. This shall be done at once, to all four temples." rumbled the voice.

"Your Majesty, are you sure? It will prove next to impossible to take all four…" the man cut off with a scream as a blue-white jet of lightning cut him down as he spoke.

"Thank you for your contribution, former Admiral Shōjiki. The plan shall proceed as we have seen it. My sister has acted too long in defiance, the winds she has commanded her allies in the temples to send to our nation have gone on too long. They must be ended." A now wisened Sozin stepped down from his dais, to walk across the map before his generals. "As the Great Comet reaches its zenith, we shall have reached the four temples of the Air Nation, and using the power that Agni has granted us, we shall illuminate these heathens to our ways and knowledge, or they shall face the inferno. I mourn the loss of my dear friend, former Avatar Roku, but as we know gentlemen, after fire comes air, so we must find his replacement, and introduce this young Airbender to the truth of the world. There has been word that the Southern Temple recently tested their acolytes, the last to do so, so it is my intent to lead the front there. Kyōshin you shall lead the North, Kōkatsu the West, and Hebi you can lead the East. The next few weeks shall prove instrumental in the founding of a new era of greatness for the Fire Nation, and thus, for the World. Bring my sister to me, her treason must be answered. That is all."

The scene ended, the piercing gaze of Sozin boring into Zuko's skull as he backed away, the arch at long last going dark, revelations burning through his mind like those blazing eyes.

Darkness lay over the void. Still, he quaked in the nothingness. To be forceful, and the world would end at his hand. To be passive, and the world would end by another's hand. But what if there was another way? The third arch loomed on at Zuko, and he understood. To be pliant or dominating, as his ancestors had done, was folly and could not work. He knew this now, he knew what his ancestors had failed to see, the wider picture. Abstractly, in this non-space, Zuko wondered if this was how Uncle felt, knowing the weight of legacy, but moving forward regardless of what could be made a better future. He knew that Uncle deserved an apology if they met again, as he hung his head in shame. One thought lingered though.

How to escape this abyss?

00000

The group had fallen into an awkward silence. Katara rationed out their food and gave everyone their share. Zuko's share had been slipped back into an empty food bag and then placed close to Zuko's curled up form, for one, to discourage Momo from stealing it, but also so that Zuko could find it once he woke up.

Water was another issue. They had discussed if they should just wait, but Katara knew that Zuko had been drinking even less than the others just a day before, having chosen to give Toph his water ration that one time, without Toph noticing, but not escaping hers.

She knew he'd fought. He'd fought in a desert in simmering heat. Then he'd fought Wan Shi Tong down in the library before he'd crumbled. The amount he'd almost choked on when he regained consciousness definitely hadn't been enough, and he hadn't woken again since. She knew dehydration could make someone delirious. What if he really was trapped by Wan Shi Tong in some way, Aang had said he wasn't, but how could he be sure? They certainly couldn't be, unless Aang actually entered the spirit world.

It was probably the wrong time to think of respecting his boundaries, but she just knew that he'd hate the thought of her forcing water into his system while he was unconscious. At least he didn't have a fever, she consoled herself with this singular fact.

Zuko needed the water and she had to remind herself that she was lucky that she was a waterbender, because he was unconscious and for anyone else, it wouldn't be safe to try. But Katara could ensure that the water would not end up in Zuko's lungs. She'd hoped he'd wake up on his own though, the whole ride she'd hoped for it, but now it was late and when she felt for his pulse, it was shallow. It had been shallow all day.

She really shouldn't put it off any longer. Sighing, she moved to his still form, propped him up, then opened her water flask, drew some water out and pushed it down his throat and into his stomach. She repeated the process with several gulps, hating how Zuko's jaw kept opening, slack, lifeless, like the rest of him. Sighing, she put him down on the ground again, pushing him to the side so he wouldn't choke just in case, the food bag safely tucked to his chest. After a moment of thought, she left the water skin there, too.

The others had watched her worriedly, but no one knew what to say, so she finally did. "Let's just turn in for the night."

The lack of arguing was a testament to how spent they all were, though sleep didn't come to her for a long while, still.

Zuko was ill. Huh, she'd now thought of the Prince of the Fire Nation by just his name, that and that only. How had it come that she cared for a supposed enemy?

00000

"Never forget who you are"

His mothers voice called out to him through the final arch's gap. He could now grasp what she meant. Before, he thought his role was to uphold the beacon of light that the Fire Nation was surely sharing with the world, but now he knew it meant to restore the balance of the nations, and to restore the Fire Nation to a nation of unity and safety, not the place of fear and repression it had become over the past century. The final arch seemed to warp into his vision, dominating his sight. With each step he now took, as if without contemplation, a thought crashed through him:

"Who still loves me, out there?"

A forgotten memory. Uncle Iroh, a warm embrace before he left the ship, tears breaking the strong Dragon of the West.

"Since I lost my son... I thought of you as my own."

Steeling himself against the memory of Lu Ten. Another step forward, more questions coming with each step. Uncle Iroh had been lost to him since they parted ways in the cave, without his Uncle:

How could he hope out there?

A hazy vision in the arch. His mother, so young, and a little babe, that Zuko somehow knew was him, and a whispered story in his ear.

"When the good dreams come, hang onto them with all your might."

Dark his dreams had been of late, his time alone on the road clouding his mind in shadow. How could he hang on to any of the fragile moments of compassion and love over the past three years that glimmered like winter ice caught in a polar dawn, and, as he moved forward once more, begin to hope once more out there?

Again, his uncle's voice answered, but this time, Zuko couldn't recall hearing these words: "There is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you, help you."

"But you are gone, Uncle, so is mum. They don't love me", he flatly stated to himself, as he brought himself closer to the arch; he was halfway to it now, and it dominated his vision. Echos of the motley group's fleeting kindness shone through the archway, like mist from a waterfall. "How can I trust them to show me the love you have out there, Uncle?"

A murmur, clearly not intended to be heard to all but herself, and young Toph's voice came through, affection lacing its tone "you know… he ain't half bad."

Although Toph had perhaps been the most tolerant of the group so far, he could hardly call what she showed affection so for Zuko, the half whispered confession shocked him. But still, affection could only get you so far. Fire required a passion, an incentive, a drive. With the consideration the group had begun to show him, the drive of the past three years to capture the Avatar; restore his lost honour, and to return home, seemed increasingly futile. Without drive, the Will of a Firebender could simply leave them, rendering them empty husks.

How could one in such times? If he were to lose his drive, it would be his death, could he find that need to live?

The archway answered, in the form of memory worming its way out: Agni is your patron, and in him is the Sun, and the Sun will always glow, imparting its energy to all beneath. It may be lost by shade or by night, but it always returns. Even though you may never see its light directly, you can feel how it influences life itself. It is what causes the grass to grow, which the animals feed on, which feeds you humans. It replenishes the plants we eat, bringing us its energy through them.

The memory ended, but the arch continued.

Know this Zuko, the space called, it is the balance of the elements that allow all life to thrive, water to nourish, air to spread, earth to support and fire to vitalise. It is this balance that the world needs, this is why the Avatar was made, to embody the balance.

Somehow, with the knowledge that he had been imparted with, Zuko knew he had to fit in this fine web. But as the blank arch came two steps away, a mournful thought came through his head. Despite all this insight, He'd be in the Avatar's debt. A ruler in debt, especially to so great a spirit as the World Spirit, was not a free ruler, and the Fire Nation would not accept a Lord who was bound by spiritual bargains. As the Ward of the Nation, a leader must be unburdened themselves. Thus, if he did have to take up the mantle, as he inwardly now knew he must, how could he be free of his deal out there?

"I can't free you, I don't know how." murmured sad words, the only person to show him some kindness at the time, a light in the darkness of his captivity in that accursed town.

The vision of his locked self returned to his mind's eye, and he understood. All of it. The world was out of balance, and the world included the Fire Nation. That was why he was granted these visions: Not to show him what was, but rather what should not happen. He had to be decisive, but not violent; commanding, but not wasteful, as his forebears had done, squandering the blood of millions through failures of comprehension and compassion.

To become the ruler that was needed, to make the saving of his life mean anything, he must act as the Lord he now knew was needed. Not one soaked in blood and violence, such as he and the line of his father had, nor sit back and let someone else protect the world, as he and the line of his mother had, but a new path, a middle path. To save himself, to find that hope, that path, he must make it his own, to hold and forge in the bright fires of this new hope. He took a penultimate step forward, the arch close enough to put his hand through, if he so chose.

A final glimmer of advice from his Uncle echoed in the non-space.

"In the darkest of times, hope is something you give yourself. That's the meaning of inner strength."

Zuko remembered these words, as clear as the moment he heard them when he'd left his Uncle those many days ago.

With steeled breath, and iron soul,

He stepped forward.

Into the arch.

He fell.

Up.

.


A/N:

ML8991:
First things first, Sorry. It is on me that this chapter has taken so long. The visions proved very difficult to work out, but as we mutually decided that 'spiritual sickness' wouldn't quite cut what we wanted our Zuko to go through, we had to make our own. I managed to sway ystv to this path, and as it brings to a head all of Zuko's family and the varying crosspaths and interplay and ways they have or have not interacted to the wider world… yeh, it was a lot, I hope you guys like it, and that it is worth the wait.

ystävä: The visions left us with a playfield that was much more fluid, it led us to different writing approaches. Time turned relative, flexible, instead of linear, and events interconnected possibilities. Quite often, we both would have no idea at first on how to actually shape our ideas into a working storyline, as our ideas were very theoretical and conceptual when starting out. It was the most difficult chapter to write so far, but we grew a lot as a team. Looking forward to seeing everyone's thoughts in the reviews!

22/05/2022: Coming back here, well. Lets just say, I still remember very well how difficult the writing process was. And once more, I was entirely at loss on what to do with the tenses, because, though the time in the visions is flexible, there's still correct and incorrect grammar. At this point, I do have to say thanks to my brother-in-law for giving an outside opinion on tense matters. And also thanks to my Co-Author for being open to discuss these details.

Troubleshooting with you is a well-oiled process by now, and one I've come to enjoy.

Onwards are some notes to the chapter and historical background, which ML had fun coming up with, enjoy.

ML8991: And here we are, our pivot point for Zuko. Although we imagined this might be a bit easier, due to my stepping up and more into the shoes of Co-Author, this still had its own niggles, especially the semantics of tenses, completely my fault there.

I am though as glad as the time when I had encouraged ystävä that we do this chapter to read through these visions, and have the chance to impart some well needed backstory and wider world building to what the world has gone through in the generations before Zuko, something I think the show could have touched on a bit more, rather than the lived-in consequences of such horrors as one hundred years of conflict.

Please find below some expanded information on the chapter, and our backstory, to hopefully give some wider context to the work. Thank you for sticking with us, you readers really make this all worth it, many many thank yous to you all, you absolutely rock.

Names/Confusing Images:
Miko(巫)- many meanings, could mean auger, priestess, sooth-sayer. Essentially her name to implicate bringing the truth, but in a mystic fashion.
Kyogen(虚言)- as with Miko, many meanings, the most prominent being lies, or falsehood. A heavy handed implication of the vipers nest that the court truly is.
Shōjiki(正直)- Meaning honesty/Integrity, a fitting name I feel for the 'only' military commander we show willing to challenge Sozin's mad quest for dominance, though one hopes that there were others. Maybe Zuko will be fortunate enough to find some relatives of those that opposed the first step towards ruin in future chapters…
Kōkatsu(狡猾)- Intended here to mean sly, one of many slimy names I chose for the 3 leaders of Sozin's pronged attack.
Kyōshin (狂信)- many, many meanings, could mean bigotry/fanaticism, a neat name for one who follows whatever his Fire Lord says, following the racist dogma.
Hebi (蛇 or ヘビ)- meaning snake/serpent, yet another slippery lackey general for Sozin to use.
The dual overlay upon the discovery of the dead of the Air Temples is Zuko and Teo, hence the reference to eye and legs.

Families
Just a small note here. Just want to make it clear that Jinzuk is not a son of Roku, as could be implied by Wan Shi Tong's listing of Zuko's ancestors, with Sozin's line (from Zuko to him), was given purely son to his father. It is merely a narrative device to link in the name portion. Further, all we know from canon so far from canon is that Rina was Roku and Ta Min's only daughter, that is not to say that they didn't have other children looking sideways at other fanfics for ideas…, so it is possible that Rina would have been well loved by her parents, and so, in a way to justify this link, perhaps Roku took a shining to Jinzuk, and viewed him as a son.

NEW HISTORY
So, to give some historical context. After all this is a crux point. Having read Embers (to Vathara, thank you for both inspiration and a captivating read.), I was shown the necessity of including our version of why those who fight feel they have a justification for doing so.

Similarly to Embers, and especially in light of the new Core Book from the Roleplaying Game (from what I understand, basically an Avatar Dungeons and Dragons sort of game), the Fire Nation felt they had due cause to attack the Air Nomads. In the Core Book, as best as We understand it from the wiki, Sozin had a sister, Princess Zeitan. Zeitan was very ambitious, and despite being a non-bender and potentially Sozin's junior in age, she desired the removal of the Dragon Throne, potentially as a result of jealousy against Sozin.

As was teased in the chapter, this potential jealousy made her side with a group called the Guiding Wind, a subsect of the Air Nomads, which scorned nobility and its trappings of splendour. This would eventually, in our story, lead to Sozin coming to see this as a threat to his rule and his powerbase, leading to significant conflict between the pair. Sozin, in our universe, has twisted the less isolationist approach of the Air Nomads, who are now acting in these years just prior to the war, as aid givers. They do however still shun politics. Sozin takes this increased involvement with world affairs and twists it, to actually instead have more sinister motives.

We believe that he twisted their arrivals to be seen instead as a cover for their actions in sending storms in the first place (as he has made the Fire Nation believe), and that they act at the behest of Princess Zeitan, in an effort to show that the local lords can't care for them, and thus the storms act to undermine the Aristocratic Powerbase. Coupled with Roku's actions to curb the Fire Nation's efforts in their tracks, due to its newly industrialised, and thus likely steeply increasing population (see the UK and the growth of cities post Industrial Revolution our world to see what we mean), Sozin is likely very angry with the Avatar and the Air Nomads also.

They may harbour even older angers still however if, prior to the Camellia-Peony Wars (see Rise of Kyoshi), there was no central authority of governance, or at the very least (as Rise attests to as we understand the wiki) the rule of the Fire Lord could be challenged by their subjects and illegitimate relatives, a challenge that Sozin faced also. Being made to have absolute authority forced upon you, when before you could manage your affairs within your own lands borders, and with this being coupled with the fact that lords and locals alike have to submit to a Lord hundreds or maybe thousands of miles away (rather than maybe one hundred miles at most (the Fire Isles do look rather small after all), or at least that's how Zoryu and his descendants are noted to have crafted the autocratic rule of the Fire Lord, by slowly building up the control within his family, confirming the rule that their ancestors had forged before.

We further believe that Zoryu and his line, perhaps by the time that two/three generations had passed (So probably great grandson, which could be Sozin's father or grandfather, if Sozin was born 82 years before the Genocide, and Zoryu flourished around 300 years before the Air Genocide) could have twisted the truth to turn it (the position and autocracy of the Fire Lord) from being a policy supported and encouraged by the Avatar, to being commanded to create the rule. This could create some indignation in all but the eldest who could recall the truth. This indigination could easily be twisted by propagandists as an overstep of the authority of the Avatar, especially by looking at examples following this. First the Avatar forced the Earth King to negotiate with the peasantry, then the murder of Chin (we strongly believe this is not just Chin Village that could be made to think this version of events), and now forcing the vice of power on the one line, rather than let them sort out any issues within the local Fire Nation islands for themselves, the locals. Yeh, Kyoshi may have been working in good faith, but when you don't appear to do the same to Water and Air, and force the others to act in particular ways. (that may run counter to their cultural methods) bitter resentments and cracks can appear which the Fire Lords were all too ready to exploit in the future centuries, all it would take is a catalyst…

.

Review responses:

Delusion X: I think because she sees a kindred spirit. Someone who has been of high society, but knows that it isn't what it seems, as well as this, they have similar humours - ML8991

Kaitlyn Parks: Glad you found your way over to FFnet and letting us know. Hehe cliffhangers are fun! But rest assured, the next chapter will come with less waiting time than the last one. -ystv

Jimena: Glad you liked it. If Aang or someone will tell him is a good question, first, he's gotta get out of dreamscape though.

unnamed Guests: For one, thank you, all of you. Those reviews were lovely to read through. In regards to Sokka, who was mentioned twice in relation to the story line. Thank you both for letting us know your thoughts, this is our perspective on it:

1. Sokka's contribution to the group: We gotta understand his position. He's the oldest of the original Gaang. He's the chief's son. He feels responsible for the group, despite being a nonbender. The only way he can contribute to the group's safety is by considering and assessing threats from a cognitive perspective. Sadly, for Zuko's current position, Sokka is biased, he severely dislikes Zuko, but from his perspective It's right to think that Zuko has the potential to be 'dangerous' eventually, because Zuko was continuously in the past, he's afraid that Zuko being weak currently, will lull their senses, and the rest of the group's behaviour feed into this. Plus Katara, his dear sister, spends a lot of time with the enemy, and that enemy is close to them/her in age.
Zuko is an unwanted risk in the midst of them. That is why he doesn't acknowledge Zuko's signs of PTSD. Those signs however throw him off, and that makes Zuko even more unpredictable, which adds to Sokka's worries. Sokka did what he did for a reason, though impulsively, as we know teenagers can be. Further, due to his cultural background, he has a certain understanding of gender roles, which is a theme we address in comparison to the different nations and how they behave.
I'm glad that you approve of for a change Sokka being the antagonist instead of Katara… but yeah, being a non-bender doesn't give him a free pass to behave however he feels right. There will be consequences.

2. Sokka suffering those consequences: It's not about having him suffer, gain pity, or the reader's Schadenfreude (satisfaction at someone's misfortune), it's about him acknowledging what he's done, and that it has consequences, regardless of his intentions. It's also about him gaining an understanding of those consequences and learning from it. (ML- This understanding is something we have tried to give Zuko this chapter, and will be trying to give to the wider Gaang, though as yet, not got any ideas on how to approach this with Toph. Perhaps something with the gambling could come up, hmmm, will have to think on that)