Mai spared a disparaging glance for the wares being offered on display. The dresses were all shades of greens, pale yellows and browns. Most of them were also floral. How quaint. Her lip curled ever so slightly and she moved on to the next stall, keeping an eye and ear out for any sign of her quarry and wondering not for the first time how it was that her life had come to this. If she had wanted to stroll around peasant markets that pretended to be upscale while looking at obnoxiously colourful Earth Kingdom clothes and gaudy jewellery, she could have stayed in Omashu—oh, sorry, New Ozai—with her family. But apparently the old general enjoyed shopping, and it was a fact that much gossip could be heard in a market.

Yes, like how Peng got the butcher's daughter knocked up and was now refusing to marry the girl.

Such were the joys of peasants' gossip. Such was Mai's torture.

Heaving a weary sigh, she continued to make her way down the market lane, repressing shudders at objects that were particularly heinous to her and repressing even more eye rolls at the tedious conversations she was forced to overhear. A gleam of interest lit her eyes as she spotted the blacksmith's shop. Now that looked more promising.

She weaved her way through the crowd to examine the projectile weapons, ignoring the smithy's greetings and attempts at conversation. When he tried to direct her to the more ornamental weapons, which he insisted were more suitable for a lady, Mai threw him a flat, dark look—a look that she maintained until he was fidgeting nervously and excused himself to deal with the other customers.

The tiniest of smiles graced her lips before she went back to examining the dagger in her hand. As it happened, two Fire Nation soldiers were standing beside the neighbouring display wall, looking at swords and talking among themselves. She paid little attention to them at first, but her hearing had always been good, and she couldn't help but glance up when she heard Prince Zuko's name. An unfamiliar ache prodded her heart as she thought of the handsome boy with the pale gold eyes. She pushed the feelings aside and instead focussed on what the men were saying.

"I thought he had been assassinated," the one on the right stated. "His ship got blown up and everything. Rumours are that it was pirates."

The other man, who had a ridiculously large moustache, shook his head. "My cousin is part of Princess Azula's firebender entourage and he told me that they found the prince half-dead in the ocean about three weeks after the siege in the North. In fact, it was Shu who hauled him up out of the water."

"But then—"

"How did he die?" Moustache Man finished for him, anticipating the question.

The other nodded. Mai edged closer as the soldier's voice dropped to a low hush.

"It was the princess," Moustache Man said, casting a wary look around as if afraid Azula might appear any moment and punish him for speaking of the subject. "Struck him right in the chest with lightning, she did, and off goes the prince overboard. They never found the body, but that doesn't matter. No one can survive an attack like that." He shook his head. "It's all being kept hush, hush, of course. The prince was only supposed to be taken back to the Fire Nation to be kept out of the way, so I heard, but you know the princess. She doesn't tolerate people challenging her authority very well."

Mai's fingers tightened on the dagger. No, she knew that all too well.

"I can't believe she would kill her own brother," the other soldier murmured, his eyes wide with shock.

Moustache Man frowned. "Hey, mind you don't go repeating this. We all know what those royals are like, and I'd rather not put Shu's head on the line. The established story is that the prince tried to escape and drowned, got it?"

Mai released the dagger she had been clutching, barely hearing it clatter against the display cabinet as she walked away from the blacksmith's shop. Her expression and gait were composed, but inside she was a twisting storm of emotions. Anger, fear, sadness; she could feel it all inside her, battering against her ribs and screaming for release. Azula had killed Zuko. Azula had killed Zuko. The words were a chant in her mind, echoing over and over again.

A blur of pink appeared before her vision and she blinked to see Ty Lee smiling up at her. "There you are!" the bubbly girl greeted. "Azula wants us to report back to camp."

"Finally," Mai said with perfected weariness, not revealing a hint of her inner turmoil. "If I have to listen to one more conversation about how the pig-chickens aren't breeding so well this month, I'm going to be sick."

Ty Lee giggled. "At least we got to shop around a bit, and look at this cute hat I got given!" She shoved a pale yellow nightmare at Mai's face, who simply took one look at it and then gave her friend a flat stare.

"I thought you don't like hats," Mai said. "You always said they get in the way of your plait and ruin the natural bounciness of your hair, or whatever."

"But the tailor's son was such a cutie! I couldn't just refuse his gift."

Mai rolled her eyes. "Right."

Ty Lee didn't seem troubled by this sarcasm and instead started walking on her hands, apparently deciding that feet just weren't doing the trick for her. "So, did you get any leads?"

"Only if you want to know about how Peng has got the butcher's daughter knocked up and now refuses to marry her."

Ty Lee let out another giggle. "Sounds serious."

"Oh, it is," Mai responded, but her wry amusement faded a second later as she thought of what else she had learned during her sojourn in the market. Without even thinking about it, she slowed to a halt. "Ty Lee ..."

"Mm?"

"What did Azula tell you about what happened to Zuko?"

Ty Lee flipped back to her feet and her ever-smiling lips drooped into a frown. "She didn't say much. Just that he drowned."

Mai's jaw tightened a fraction. "She told me the same."

"I still find it hard to believe. I mean, I know he was banished and all, but he was our friend too, you know? It just doesn't seem right." She paused and glanced up at Mai, hesitating a moment. "You are doing okay, aren't you? I know we haven't really had a chance to talk about—"

"I'm fine," Mai said in an expressionless voice.

"But—"

"I haven't seen Zuko for three years. I'm hardly cherishing a broken heart now."

The words were cold, but that was what Mai intended. She tried to ignore the look of surprise, even disappointment, that flashed in her friend's grey eyes. It was better this way—much easier for her to deal with since she had never liked to wear her emotions on her sleeve or have heart-to-hearts. Besides, she had only been honest. Her crush on Zuko might have seemed everlasting when she was twelve, but then he had got banished. He had vanished for three years and all her feelings had got mixed up in the process. She didn't know what she felt for him now, but she did know that she hated the fact that Azula had been the one to kill him.

She hated the fact that Azula had lied to her.

"Come on," Mai said, striding ahead. "Let's get back to camp. You know Azula doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Ty Lee could not argue with this statement, though it was obvious that she was still bursting with questions. She had enough tact to keep her thoughts to herself, however, for which Mai could only be grateful. Mai was already regretting bringing up the subject of Zuko, no matter her desire to know if she was the only one who had been lied to, because she did care about what had happened to him. That was a dangerous thing. Mai had learnt long ago that feelings were better kept hidden; they had to be protected and locked away, because feelings could get you hurt. Especially when you were friends with Azula. The princess had always loved to play games.

Perhaps that was why Mai wasn't surprised when she was later summoned to Azula's tent for a "friendly chat". She should have known that Ty Lee wouldn't be able to resist telling her of their discussion. Not that Ty Lee would have realised the significance of what she had done. Her motives would have been innocent. Mai could almost hear the words:

"I'm really worried about Mai. She was asking about Zuko earlier and—"

And then Azula would smile that sharp little smile because, unlike Ty Lee, she would know that Mai would not bring up the subject of Zuko's death for no reason. She would know that Mai must have heard something in the market, something that might just reflect back on the princess in a poor light. So Mai had been summoned and now they sat facing each other in the grand tent, sipping tea and pretending as if they weren't trying to pick each other's brains apart. As if this wasn't really an interrogation but the friendly chat Azula had claimed.

"You know, Mai," Azula remarked, once the initial pleasantries were out of the way and it became obvious that Mai wasn't going to make the first move, "I don't believe you gave me a full report of the information you gathered in the marketplace today, did you?"

Mai placed her teacup down on the table. "I told you that I found no leads. That's the truth."

Azula examined her fingernails. "Yes, but I'm not talking about new leads."

"The rest was just peasants' gossip." An indifferent shrug. "I didn't think you would be interested in that."

"And what about soldiers' gossip?"

Tawny eyes locked with amber. "I didn't think you would be interested in that either."

Azula smiled and relaxed back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she took another sip of her tea. She let the silence linger between them, perhaps hoping to make Mai squirm and fall into the trap of revealing her true thoughts. But Mai had been playing this game for a long time and she knew that she was not as cornered as Azula wanted her to think. As such, she simply picked up her cup and took a sip of her own tea, waiting for the next move to be made. She didn't have to wait long.

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me yet," Azula said, watching her closely.

"Asked you what?"

"Whether it's true." Her voice was cold and precise. "Whether I actually killed my brother."

"What difference does it make? He's dead now regardless."

"You're right. He is dead." Azula went back to examining her nails. "Still, I admit that I thought you would show a bit more emotion than this. From what I remember, you used to be quite taken with poor little Zuzu."

Mai gave another of her indifferent shrugs. "That was a long time ago. Your brother was banished and I heard he was later labelled a traitor to the Fire Nation before his death. Why should I care about him?"

"Why indeed?"

There was a pregnant pause. They were getting to the heart of the matter now, for Mai had known from the moment she had been summoned that this was not about whether Azula had killed Zuko or not; this was about discovering where Mai's loyalties lay. Just like it had always been between them. Just like it had been when Azula had suggested that Mai shouldn't trade Tom-Tom for the earthbender king, because Tom-Tom was Mai's little brother, and Azula couldn't help but prod and push to see how far her friend's loyalty would go, even though any sane person could see that such tests were unfair and unnecessary. Even though they had both known that refusing would have meant even more complications for Mai. (As Ty Lee could attest to after her circus act became a desperate struggle to survive.)

So Mai did not admit that hearing about Zuko's death had upset her. She did not admit that she didn't like the fact that Azula had killed him in what sounded like to be cold blood. She simply drank the last of her tea and placed the empty cup on the table. "Are we finished?" she asked with a weary sigh. "I know Zuko was your brother, but talking about dead people isn't exactly my idea of an interesting conversation."

Azula's mouth curved into a sharp little smile. "Of course. I won't keep you up any longer. Goodnight, Mai."

Mai stood and placed her palms together, giving a slight bow. "Goodnight, Princess Azula."

When she finally left the tent, she was surprised to find that her hands were shaking. During her time spent in the Earth Kingdom, she had almost forgotten how draining Azula could be with her manipulation games, forgotten how much she had loathed and dreaded the endless, endless tests. Mai had just remembered the good times that they had shared together. She'd remembered the freedom she had been given when Azula had forced her parents to realise that their daughter was an expert with projectile weapons and shouldn't have to hide her talents. But now those rose-tinted glasses were gone. Now Mai remembered exactly why Ty Lee had run away to join the circus, why she herself had been secretly relieved when the Fire Lord had given her father governorship over Omashu, or New Ozai. Whatever.

Maybe it had been boring living with her parents in that Earth Kingdom hellhole, but at least Mai had never been made to feel threatened simply for having a heart. At least she hadn't been forced to truly cover up her emotions for fear that they could be used against her. The worst part, however, was the knowledge that there was no way to take back her impulsive decision to join her friends. One did not refuse the Princess of the Fire Nation, not unless one had a death sentence. Everyone was expendable to Azula, even her own brother, it seemed.

By the time Mai reached the tent that she shared with Ty Lee, her hands were still shaking.

oOo

Momo was chittering again. Lee glanced over the side of the saddle to where the lemur was looking and saw a large expanse of swampland below. He didn't understand why the swamp seemed to distress Momo, but then he also didn't understand why Momo enjoyed eating bugs. As such, Lee dismissed the matter and reclined against the saddle. He was careful not to lean too far back, not wanting a repeat of last time. His cheeks felt hot with shame just thinking about his little breakdown. He hated how the others seemed to be watching him all the time now, as if they were wondering when he was next going to have one of his "crazy memory episodes", as Sokka called them.

"The boy is weak. He was lucky to even be born."

Lee closed his eyes, blocking out the cruel, unfeeling voice that haunted his nightmares. He didn't realise that he had tensed up until a hand touched his arm.

"Hey, are you alright?"

He blinked. Katara knelt in front of him with a concerned expression on her face. No doubt she thought that he was about to fall off the saddle again. Because he was weak. Because he just couldn't seem to keep it together. An angry, bitter swell of emotion bubbled inside him, and he shrugged off her touch and looked the other way. "I'm fine."

"Lee—"

"I said I'm fine! You don't need to coddle me like a baby! You're not my mother, and I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, so just drop it!"

She let her hand fall back to her side, biting her lip and looking more than a little hurt at his outburst. Lee didn't need to look to know that Sokka and Aang were both staring at him, perhaps wondering why he had started shouting. Something twisted in his stomach, tangling into knots. Damn it, why did he always have to lose his temper?

"I'm sorry," he said in a much softer voice. "I didn't mean—I'm just ..." He sighed and lowered his head. "I just need some space, okay?"

Katara stared at him for a long moment. "Okay," she said quietly, "but, Lee?"

He glanced up at her.

"I wasn't trying to coddle you." A faint smile curved her lips. "I was just trying to be your friend. That's what we do. We look out for each other."

Lee didn't know how to respond to that, so he nodded and went back to looking at the swampland. His averted face and posture stated that the conversation was over. Katara took the hint and retreated to the opposite corner of the saddle to resume reading her waterbending scrolls, though he could feel her gaze flickering towards him from time to time. A small breath escaped his lips. These people really were so impossible, so insistent on viewing him as a friend, as if they had known him for years instead of just a few days. It didn't make sense. They didn't make sense, but then—

His gaze darted to Aang, who was perched on Appa's head. In his mind, he could see the clearing, see the blood stains on his hands from where he had healed Aang and the shy smile that had started it all.

"If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends?"

Lee clenched his hands into fists. He had not got the chance to confront Aang yet about their real history together. In fact, it was almost as if Aang was avoiding him—not in the sense of refusing to speak, but getting a private conversation with him was like trying to capture the wind. No matter how much Lee tried, he was always left grasping at nothing. Somehow, he got the feeling that this wasn't a rare occurrence.

It was in that moment that Lee realised they were descending at a rapid rate.

Sokka glanced up from where he had been sharpening his machete. "Hey, Aang," he called. "Is there a reason you're taking us down?"

Aang said nothing, nor did he so much as twitch to show that he had heard. Lee and Sokka exchanged a confused glance.

"Aang!" Sokka tried again, walking over to him. "Why are you taking us down?"

It turned out that the swamp was calling to Aang, which everyone agreed was creepy. Things only got weirder when they tried to fly away and a tornado appeared. Of course it also chased them.

Lee's hand slipped on the saddle and he was yanked up into the air, tugged this way and that. The wind was so powerful, so raw. He felt like he was going to be torn in two, but at last the tornado loosened its hold, tossing him aside like an unwanted rag doll. Then he was falling, falling, falling—just like with Zhuā when he was a child, just like after he had been struck with lightning by the Fire Nation princess.

Just like when a ship he had called home had exploded, plunging him into dark, icy waters.

Lee's eyes widened as the memories rushed through his mind, flickering in a disorientating blur of images and voices. He tumbled through the veil of trees, welcomed into the swamp's murky embrace, but it was so hard to separate reality from memory. So hard to determine if he was falling past tree and vine or tumbling towards an expanse of blue. His last conscious thought was of an old man in Fire Nation robes leaning over him, telling him that everything was going to be alright.

oOo

"He's not here," Katara said, heading back to regroup with the boys.

Aang ran his hands over his head. "He has to be here somewhere! Maybe if we just—"

Sokka gripped his arm, pulling him to a halt. "Aang, we've already searched everywhere. Lee isn't here. I know you're worried, but we're just going to be wasting our time if we stick around this area any longer. Maybe he's with Appa and Momo."

"Maybe," Aang said, but that didn't stop him from feeling anxious.

Zuko, or "Lee" as he now had to call him, had seemed a bit fragile and on edge ever since that weird breakdown during the fight in Omashu. Put simply, Aang was worried. Worried that Zuko might be alone and hurt somewhere, worried that the memories were returning, worried that he was about to lose his friend all over again.

Not that Aang had ever truly got his friend back. It was something that he had realised while sitting with Lee in that meadow. Zuko had been right next to him, but Lee did not remember saving Aang from Pohuai Stronghold, Lee did not remember stopping flames from burning through tender flesh, nor comforting a boy who had hurt a friend with a reckless display of firebending. Lee did not remember fighting side by side against Zhao or telling him that he just wanted to go home. All Lee could remember was an offer of friendship, but that meant nothing without the history that had led to that point. That meant nothing without the Fire Nation prince who had hunted Aang all over the world.

It was a cruel twist of irony. All Aang had wanted was another chance with Zuko—a clean slate to forget the anger and tears that had been their parting at the North Pole—but instead Aang had got this cheap copy of his friend. Because Lee was not Zuko. He could never be Zuko, and though he wore the mask of the Blue Spirit, he was no Masky either.

Perhaps it was Aang's punishment for lying all of those times, for every omission of the truth. Aang didn't know. All he knew was that it made him sad and worried and so uncertain of what to do. He just wanted to stop pretending. He just wanted his friend back.

But all he had was Lee.

"Aang?"

He blinked and saw Katara looking at him in concern.

"You okay?" she asked.

Aang nodded. "Yeah. Let's go find the others."

oOo

Lee groaned and opened his eyes. A tilted view of trees and bushes greeted his vision. He winced and pushed himself to his knees, feeling his body protest in pain. No doubt many tree branches had tried to cushion his fall—and scratched and bruised him along the way—but the fact that he was soaking wet did surprise him, since he had woken up on the marshy bank and not in the water. His heart quickened at the thought that perhaps he was not alone, but a quick survey of the clearing revealed no sign of another person. Nothing but trees and plants and swamp.

Frowning, he got to his feet and made sure that he had everything he needed. Dao swords were still strapped to his back and he could feel his dagger tucked into its usual place in his boot. Good. His mask was covering his face, and stunk like swamp. Ugh. He pulled it off and let the excess bits of water trickle out from beneath the mask, then slipped the disguise back over his head. He might be alone for now, but there was no saying when he would run into the others. Best not to take his chances. Lastly, he checked the inside of his tunic for the Pai Sho tile, note, and water flask. All were still in place, though the note was so bedraggled and faded that the words were barely legible.

His eyes narrowed on the tile as a flicker of memory teased at his thoughts. He flipped the tile over on his palm, examining the flower etched onto the other side. "A white lotus," he murmured.

Once again, the image of the old man in the Fire Nation robes flickered in his mind, except this time the man was sitting at a table with a Pai Sho board set up on top.

"It seems I've lost my lotus tile."

"Lotus tile?"

"For my Pai Sho game. Most people think the lotus tile insignificant, but it is essential for the unusual strategy that I employ."

Lee sucked in a sharp breath and stared at the tile resting on his palm as if seeing it for the first time. Bits and pieces of memory were at last beginning to connect together, but then something gave a loud screech from deep within the trees, shaking him from his thoughts. The moment was gone. He grunted in frustration and stuffed the tile back inside his tunic. He would have to ponder over the matter later. Right now, he just needed to focus on getting out of this swamp.

oOo

Lee let out a hiss as his foot slid into a particularly boggy part of the swamp. Spirits, he hated this place. The vines and trees impeded his path while bubbles of swamp gas that stunk like dead things mixed with mud got into his nostrils and mouth, practically choking him on the fumes. By the time the sky had darkened, though it was difficult to tell with the veil of trees overhead, a thick fog had set in and he was wishing that he could hurry up and find the others so that he could get the hell out of this place.

That was when he saw the boy emerging from the mist.

It was like watching a wraith form from wisps of colour, blending to form a blur of red and black. Yet there was no denying the boy's physical presence—or that he was advancing to where Lee was standing. Without a second thought, Lee unsheathed his dual dao swords and held them out in an offensive stance.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "Are you the one who's been following me?"

It was the only explanation for why he felt like he was being watched all the time, but the boy offered him no answer and continued to close the distance between them in slow, steady steps, becoming more visible until even the mist could not obscure his youthful features. Lee's heart thumped against his ribs and he swallowed, tightening his grip on his swords. Something wasn't right here.

"Answer me!" he yelled, taking a half-step forward.

The boy paused, pale gold eyes locking with pale gold. Lee felt his blood go cold even as all the air seemed to vanish from his lungs. It couldn't be. There was just no way.

"What is this?" he whispered, backing away in horror. "Who—who are you?"

"She told you not to forget," the boy said in a voice that sounded at once distant and piercingly close. "She told you to never forget who you are."

Lee shook his head and backed up another step, feeling like his heart was about to leap out of his throat. He'd seen this boy before in his memories: a boy with dark hair and pale skin who wore robes of the finest quality. A boy who had somehow become scarred and alone, hiding behind a blue mask to cover up what he did not know.

"She told you not to forget," the boy repeated, still in that faraway but piercing voice. "Why did you forget?"

"I don't know," Lee whispered. "I don't know what happened. I don't know anything."

"She told you not to forget."

Lee squeezed his eyes shut. "Please," he begged. "Tell me who I am."

There was no answer. He opened his eyes and saw that the boy—no, his younger self—was fading back into the mist.

"No!" Lee shouted, sheathing his swords and running after the figure. "Come back! Please!"

His heart pounded as he ran, but his past self did not wait for him and soon Lee was just stumbling alone through the fog, tripping over tree roots and grazing his palms on sharp rocks. A voice whispered to him that he needed to calm down before he hurt himself, but Lee was beyond reasoning now. He had to find that boy again. He had to know the truth.

Suddenly, his foot hooked on something and he fell flat on his face, landing with a splash in the boggy water. Trembling, he curled his fingers into the mud, pushing himself to his knees. The fog wasn't as thick in this part of the swamp and a glint of moonlight managed to slip through the canopy overhead, making the water he was kneeling in glow with a silver light. On the surface, Lee could see the faint outline of his mask, blue and white swirls forming a demonic grin. This was the face of the Blue Spirit, but it was not his face. It was not his identity.

"Who am I?" he whispered.

His fingers reached for the mask, pulling it away to reveal a young man whose countenance was divided between scarred flesh and smooth, angular features. A young man who was undeniably Fire Nation.

"She told you not to forget."

Needles of pain pierced his mind, whispering of forgotten truths and a woman with dark hair and amber eyes. His mother.

"Please, my love. Listen to me. Everything I've done, I've done to protect you."

"No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are."

"Never forget."

Lee let the mask slip from his fingers. In his mind, he could still see the images flashing before his eyes, still hear the snatches of conversation. The memories tortured and soothed him, drawing him into a world of pain and fire. A world of love, loss and regret, but they were still just fragments. They were always just fragments, blurred and skewed as his own identity, and now they were coming faster, like lightning dancing through his thoughts. Now he was trembling and clutching his head, trying to make it stop, because it was too much, too fast, and he was just in so much pain.

"The boy is weak. He was lucky to even be born."

Lee bit down on his lip, drawing blood so that all he could taste was copper and salt. There was a man walking towards him on a stone arena; a man with features similar to his own, except this man's eyes were a darker gold. He mouthed words that Lee could not hear and raised a fist wreathed in flames. Hot, burning flames of orange that would sear through flesh stained with tears. So many tears.

"Everything is going to be alright, Nephew."

A shuddery gasp. A stuttering heartbeat. Then an old man touched his face, not with a burning fist, but with a gentle caress.

"Everything is going to be alright."

Lee didn't notice when he hit the ground, limp and with his fingers just touching the edges of his mask. He didn't notice when two men wearing what looked like loincloths made out of leaves knelt beside him, prodding his side and declaring him still alive. Nor did he notice when they lifted him up and carried him back to their boats, settling him down in one before propelling their vessels down the swampy river with waterbending. Instead, he saw that same old man in Fire Nation robes leaning over him, telling him that everything was going to be alright.

He saw his uncle.

I know some of you might be wondering how Zuko saw an illusion of his younger self, and my reasoning comes back to that "time is an illusion" line. The swamp showed him something that he has lost from the past, his own identity. I also believe the swamp illusions react to what or who we wish to see the most. Katara saw her mother, Sokka saw Yue, and Aang saw the earthbending teacher he needed to find. Hence, Zuko does not see any members of his family (since he can't really remember them), but what matters most to him at that point in time, and that is finding his true self.