Zuko numbly followed Katara to the stream that bordered their campsite, stepping into a clearing that was surrounded by trees. A dim part of him was aware that Iroh and the Avatar had invited themselves along to watch, but he was too caught up in the emotions battering inside him to protest against their presence. His mouth felt too dry, his chest too tight. It was all he could do not to balk.

"Ready?" Katara asked.

She stood before him, illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't ready. Not at all. The last thing he wanted was to rip off the barely healed scab that covered his past and embrace what his mind had instinctively understood he needed to bury in order to survive. However, he also knew that he would get nowhere by running. So he nodded and lowered his head. A silent acquiescence.

She closed the distance between them and he flinched when her cool hands brushed against his temples, bathed in the glowing liquid of her element. His eyes fluttered shut, but even the cover of darkness didn't help. His pulse quickened and his heart thudded against his ribs. This was an invasion. Her touch, the water. It was wrong. Without even realising it, his body went rigid and his fingers curled into fists.

"Don't fight me," she said softly. "Just relax."

He inhaled a deep breath and released it in a slow exhale. Some of the stiffness eased from his body. He felt her fingers spread against his skin, pressing down on the trigger points so that she could access his chi meridians. Instinct made him want to tense up again, but he resisted the urge. Instead, he pretended that he was meditating. She was a flame to which he needed to become attuned and all he had to do was breathe.

"That's it," Katara encouraged. "Relax."

His pulse slowed. He listened for the sound of her breaths and matched his own to the rhythm, focussing on the gentle rise and fall of his chest. That was when her bending took hold. It was like a watery whisper had slipped into his mind, pulling back layers with careful fingers. He saw flickers of his childhood: himself as a boy practicing sword fighting, Azula grinning with a gap-filled smile and holding up a palm of flames. The images blurred and reformed. He was crawling on a roof to rescue a monkey-cat, then he was falling, bones cracking and skin bruising even as fire rushed to cocoon him.

"Fire is life."

Something snapped. The moment Katara's energy brushed against the deeper vaults of his mind, pain ripped through him in an explosion of white sparks. He gasped and wrenched his face away, blindly pushing at her hands and stumbling onto his backside.

"Zuko!" Aang exclaimed, rushing to his feet.

Arms encircled him and Zuko found himself braced against a male's chest, though the general size was too broad and the belly too soft to be the Avatar's. The scent of herbs and tea drifted around him. It was his uncle who had steadied him. A hand touched his forehead, then shifted to feel his pulse. Zuko blinked and tried to focus, even though he just felt disoriented and sick.

"What happened?" Iroh asked grimly.

Katara swallowed, looking just as pale as Zuko. "It was the same as when I tried to heal him the last time, back when he collapsed during that fight in Omashu and wouldn't wake up."

"The wall of fire?" Aang asked, glancing up at her from where he crouched next to Zuko.

She nodded. "It blocked me just like before, though it seemed smaller this time."

Zuko groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position so that he was no longer leaning on his uncle. "What are you talking about? What wall?"

A part of him knew that he should be bothered that he was showing so much weakness—heck, even having the Avatar all concerned and up in his face should have bothered him—but there were more important things to worry about. Like why Katara seemed to think there was some kind of barricade of flames inside his mind.

Iroh frowned and pressed his finger against the centre of Zuko's forehead. "Is this where you felt the wall at its strongest?"

"Yes," she said slowly, "but how did you know?"

"Because that is where the Light chakra can be found. I suspect you will find that the meridian paths along the Sound chakra in his throat have also been manipulated in such a way as to create a permanent knot of chi."

Aang scratched his chin. "Um, what are chakras?"

"I'm surprised you don't know," Iroh said. "The Air Nomads were advocates of the belief that a person could only access their full potential by unlocking the seven chakras. However, most people aren't aware that chakras exist, let alone that it is important to keep them unblocked."

Zuko clenched his jaw. "That's great, but what do these chakra things have to do with me?"

Iroh once more pressed his finger against the centre of his forehead. "The Light chakra deals with insight and is blocked with illusions." He touched the hollow at the base of Zuko's throat. "The Sound chakra deals with truth and is blocked with lies. Of course, this is just speculation, but if you were a bender who could manipulate the chi within another person—for example, like what a healer does—then it is possible that with enough power you could actively sabotage the meridian paths of that person to block these two chakras in such a way that they could become a weapon inside the mind."

Aang blinked. "Um, yeah. You lost me."

Katara chewed her bottom lip. "I think I get it. Basically, if you tap into the meridian paths at their core, you can use the chakras to block the flow of energy and create negative effects."

Iroh nodded. "Correct."

A crease formed on her brow. "So, what you're saying is that someone purposely sabotaged Zuko's Sound and Light chakras to give him amnesia. That's why I keep getting stopped by that wall, because the pathways haven't been fully opened yet."

"So it would seem," Iroh said. "However, as I mentioned, this is all just speculation. The only person who could tell you for certain is the one who did the damage in the first place."

"But who would do such a thing?" Aang mused, propping his chin on his hands.

"Me," Zuko said, realising the truth. "I did this to myself, though I doubt I had any idea of what I was doing at the time."

He'd been too much in shock back then, barely functioning after having been struck by lightning and reeling from the emotional blow of discovering that his father and sister did not care whether he lived or died. His only thought had been to strip away all the pain, to hide in a cocoon where nothing could hurt him. To survive. So that was exactly what he had done. He had built his very own cocoon of fire, shaping it tight around his mind so that the painful memories of his life as Prince Zuko could not surface. He had even managed to suppress his bending.

Beyond anything, he had just wanted to stop hurting.

"You understand now, don't you?" Iroh said gently.

Zuko bowed his head. "I understand."

Because now he knew that it was his own hands that had broken the vase and shattered who he had once been. More importantly, he was the only person who could repair the damage.

Zuko got back to his feet and dusted the dirt off his tunic. "Thanks for trying," he muttered to Katara.

He knew it wasn't her fault the healing had not worked. She had done her best; there was no way she could have known that he had twisted his own meridian paths into creating a wall around his memories.

"It's fine, but what will you do now?" she asked. "Your memories—"

He shrugged. "I guess I'll have to figure out a way to break down the wall myself. Either way, it's not your concern."

She looked like she was going to protest, but he did not wait for a response and headed back towards camp. He didn't feel like being prodded and questioned. He just wanted to be alone, to give himself time to digest what he had learnt and all of its implications. It was one thing to have someone remove the seal on his past; it was quite another to have to dig into that barely healed wound himself. Still, he knew that he would do it if that was what it took. He would not run. Not anymore. The only question that remained was how.

Somehow, he had to remove the wall of fire. Somehow, he had to learn the truth.

oOo

Later that night, Iroh approached Zuko and suggested they do some meditation exercises to see if that would help to remove the chi knots blocking his Sound and Light chakras. Zuko agreed that it was worth trying; however, as he sat before the burning sticks and tried to peel back the layers of flames that protected his memories, it soon became apparent that he was not making any headway. The wall was impenetrable, constructed with a firebending technique that he did not understand even if he was the architect.

"This is pointless!" he complained, flopping against the ground in exhaustion. "I've been meditating for hours and I've got nothing. Not even a fragment of memory."

Iroh frowned and stroked his beard. "Maybe what we need is a guru."

Zuko propped himself on his elbows. "A guru?" His eyes narrowed. "Wait, you're not talking about that crazy old relic we met at the Eastern Air Temple, are you?"

"The one who you thought was the Avatar." Iroh's mouth twitched into a smile. "I believe his name was Guru Pathik."

Zuko just groaned and ran his hands over his face. He would not forget that old man in a hurry. His misunderstanding had led to quite the inelegant struggle between the guru and his thirteen-year-old self, complete with a scrambling chase all over the temple, lots of hair and beard pulling, and a dirty bare foot being mushed against his face.

Even now, Zuko could remember how smug he had felt when he'd finally got the sprightly old man trussed and ready to be shipped back to the Fire Nation—that is until Iroh had come along and revealed that Guru Pathik was not the Avatar but a non-bending spiritual guide who happened to live at the temple. Then it had just got awkward.

Iroh gathered the blackened stumps of sticks that they had been using to act as meditation candles. "I know you had some difficulties with Guru Pathik, but it has been three years since then. Besides, he did say that he forgave you for trying to capture him."

"Oh, I remember," Zuko muttered. "He forced that nasty drink on us as a token of friendship."

"The onion and banana juice?" Iroh made a humming sound in the back of his throat. "I thought it was quite tasty."

"You would."

Iroh chuckled and got to his feet. "Well, regardless, I do believe that Guru Pathik should know a way to unblock your chakras. He did say that he had studied with the Air Nomads and has dedicated his life to understanding the energy within all life forms. If anyone can help you to remove the barrier sealing your memories, it will be him."

Zuko sighed and frowned up at the stars. "I guess."

From his research, he knew that the Air Nomads had once been the spiritual leaders of the world. However, Aang was the only airbender left now: a twelve-year-old boy who had not even completed his spiritual training. That just left Guru Pathik. It was hardly a thrilling realisation, but Zuko didn't have the luxury of being picky. He needed to learn how to control his bending fast before any further damage could be done. It was a truth he could no longer ignore. Even now, he could barely produce a proper flame and he had learnt that it was his fire healing that had caused him to lose his memories.

"Perhaps this would explain the label of the benders being 'Children'. Few seemed to survive to adulthood."

Zuko closed his eyes, remembering what Shang had written on the scroll about fire healers. "Tell me, Uncle," he said softly. "Do you think this will ever get easier?"

"What do you mean?"

He sat up and faced his uncle, though he didn't quite make eye contact. "I just wonder sometimes what the point of all this is. I've always had to struggle and fight and I've accepted that because I know it has made me stronger. It's just ... I just ..." He frowned and stared at his hands, examining the tiny scars and callouses. "Sometimes I wish it didn't always have to be so hard."

Iroh pulled him into his arms without a word, ignoring the way Zuko stiffened in instinctive resistance. "I know it seems that life has dealt you a string of cruel blows," Iroh murmured, "but a gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials." He pulled back to meet Zuko's gaze. "There is a bright destiny awaiting you, my nephew. I'm sure of it."

"How can you say that?" Zuko demanded. "I'm a banished prince with nothing to my name and nowhere to go. I don't even know who I am any more, let alone what I'm doing."

"Yet here you are still pressing forward."

Zuko blinked. "What?"

A warm smile curved Iroh's lips. "Nephew, I know that you feel like you've lost your purpose and are no longer certain of where you stand in the world, but I have never been more proud of you."

Zuko averted his face. "Don't patronise me."

"I'm not patronising you." Iroh gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "I have watched you face trials that would make the bravest of men falter. You have suffered so much, confronted insurmountable odds not once but countless times, yet you never chose to take the easy road. You just pushed yourself even harder." He shook his head. "Sometimes I almost wished that you would give up, if only to spare yourself the pain."

"I couldn't just give up. You were the one who told me not to give up without a fight."

"And that's what makes you so special. You see an obstacle that others would call impossible, yet you always find a way to overcome it. That is a rare talent."

Zuko slipped out of his uncle's grasp. "I just did what I had to do. I wasn't born lucky like Azula."

"Then the spirits did her a disservice."

Again, all Zuko could do was blink. Iroh's smile widened and he began to tell a story about a man who found a butterfly struggling to break from its cocoon. The little creature pushed with all its might, but it was a slow, gruelling process and the butterfly didn't seem to make much progress. Taking pity, the man took a knife and carefully created an opening for the butterfly to escape. When it emerged, however, its body was larger than normal and its wings small and fragile.

"The man thought that he had been helping the butterfly," Iroh said solemnly, "but by creating that opening in the cocoon, he had not given the butterfly a chance to fully develop or to build up the strength it needed. Instead, he had stunted its growth and made it impossible for the creature to fly."

Zuko stared at his hands. He knew what his uncle was trying to say. Adversity was necessary for growth. Just as Zuko had always recognised, the endless obstacles and trials that arose in his life had helped him to become strong, they had helped him to become durable. Where others gave up, he persevered. When the odds became unreasonable, he made his own luck. It was painful and exhausting, but his uncle wanted him to believe that there was purpose to the struggle. His uncle wanted him to believe that there was an end: a bright destiny that awaited him on the other side of the cocoon.

"You are far stronger than you realise," Iroh said, meeting his nephew's gaze. "There is nothing that can hold you back once you set your mind to it. That's why I know you'll succeed now." He gripped Zuko by the shoulder. "We shall find the truth about the Children of the Undying Fire, of that I can promise."

Zuko let out a small breath. "Thank you, Uncle."

Iroh patted his shoulder fondly and then suggested that he get some rest. "Let me deal with the travel arrangements."

A crease formed on Zuko's brow. "Travel arrangements?"

"Guru Pathik is probably still living at the Eastern Air Temple. That is not far from where we are. I'm sure Avatar Aang and his friends will be willing to take us there if I ask."

Zuko scrunched his nose. He didn't like that they had to rely on the Avatar so much. He didn't like relying on people period. Still, the logical part of his brain told him that getting to an Air Nomad temple on a flying bison would be much easier than the precarious mountain scaling he had been forced to do as a thirteen year old. He just didn't know how he felt about spending more time with the group.

"Fine," Zuko said tiredly. "Do what you have to do."

Iroh nodded and headed back towards the campfire where the others were gathered. His request must have been received well, for the next morning they were all piling on top of Appa and flying towards the Eastern Air Temple. Sokka grumbled a bit about how they needed to get to Ba Sing Se, but there wasn't much vehemence in his complaints. For whatever reason, this band of mismatched friends actually wanted to help Zuko learn the truth about his bending, as if it was just as important as their own quest.

It was so confusing, though a part of Zuko knew that he had mostly Aang to thank for the ease in which he and his uncle were now travelling. That kid would jump at any chance to offer his assistance; he had been doing so from the moment Zuko had healed him.

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

Zuko frowned and stared at the boy who had unwittingly helped to shape the last three years of his life. He still had no answer.

"A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials" is taken from a Chinese proverb. Or so google tells me. The butterfly story is also loosely based on something I heard once, though I can't remember where I heard it or even who said it. Oh well.

Also, I suspect there will be a few of you who might question my use of chakras/energy manipulation in this chapter. My defence is this: if Legend of Korra can use bloodbending to block a person's bending then I don't think it's a stretch that Zuko could use his bending in the way I described here.