Wow. Chapter 2. It's short and stupid, but hey. It's here.
I wasn't intending to complete this, not since I lost all inspiration for the original plot, but decided to finish. Yet the plot is completely different than I originally intended. Basically, I'm making it as a test for my OC making abilities. (Yep, my second OC! Read 'Anonymous' for the first.)

An is my OC; she's just a peasant child, so her speech isn't perfect. It's not my bad grammar. In fact, she actually talks sort of like how a kid I used to babysit spoke. And no, she and Zuko are not going to become bestest friends forever. I also thought I should do some research for my OC's names, and found out they mean 'peace' and 'duckweed.' Hehe.

Disclaimer: Avatar: the Last Airbender does not belong to me. I mean, come on, do you really think an idiot like me could come up with something so marvelous?

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So, the Prince of the Fire Nation was dead. The young man's face shone with victory and sweat, and he grinned at the swarming villagers.

The people cheered, glad that their Avatar's pursuers had decreased by one, at least.

Yet tears came to the old man's aged golden eyes, and his voice alone did not lift up and laugh.

It was not until he departs from the village that Iroh allowed the tears to fall for the closest thing he had to a son.

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Open.

The command infiltrated into his world of dark, swirling, painful confusion, and he couldn't help but obey.

Open.

Fingers, previously curled into a fist, flexed before his eyes and the order was repeated.

'Open...yes!' Now the voice was childishly simple.

His eyes opened fully now, and the little child squatting before him sar back on her heels with a wide smile. He paid no attention to her. What mattered was the dull pain, the blood, the dirt, smothering him.

He looked first to the dry earth he sat on, in a puddle of something red and sticky and dried. The ground was torn up all about, while he lay in the centre of a circle of burned ground. Weapons, blood, a severed foot, paths where bodies were dragged away, all littered the clearing.

A forest clearing. He was in the forest, in a battle. Between Earthbenders and Firebenders, apparently.

Which side was he on?

Was he even on a side?

Why was he there?

And who is this kid?

As if reading his mind, the little girl grinned wider, squinted in the sunlight stabbing through the canopy and offered him her hand.

'I'm An. I'm five years old. And this -' she thrust a skinny catowl into his face '- is Ping. He's my sister's. So don't tell. But he doesn't like getting all dressed up and stuff, so what could I do? But now I'm so far away...' her speech slipped into nonsense chatter and muttered thoughts not meant for him.

The words ran together in his head, none registering. He blinked at the mud-coloured catowl, ribs and shoulderblads poking out from its skin, and backed away.

He tried to stand, but found it impossible.

Cast down by his side were a pair of bloodied swords. He stared at them in wonder, then, using one as a crutch, slowly stood. Holding back a groan, he looked down at the child.

'What happened?' he gasped. The words flew out, crushing his chest.

The girl shrugged. 'I dunno. I was out playing wi' Ping like I said and found you!' She pointed for emphasis.

The young man sighed. 'The battle. What happened?'

The girls eyes widened at the thought of battle. 'Oh yeah! Yesterday the man from the big village - ' she pointed southwards '- came and he said the Prince of the Fire Nation was killed here, in the forest. And now he can't try and get the Avatar no more.' She smiled. 'Great, huh?'

The Prince of the Fire Nation. The Avatar. He knows what these titles means, but not who holds them. 'Why would a Prince do a job for common soldiers?' he murmured thoughtfully, trying to clear his aura of confusion, yet he spoke aloud and the girl heard.

The girl shrugged yet again, staring off into space and thinking hard. 'Oh! I remember! Mother said it was 'cause he got exiled. And now his Father says he can't go home, no, not until the Avatar is caught so the Fire Nation can win.' She nodded with wisdom and authority. 'My Father said that, too.' Her gaze transfered to his face. 'Wow, what happened to you?'

'I -' he ransacked his mind for the reason, and came up with naught. Not wishing to admit his ignorance yet again, he completed the sentence. 'I was fighting.'

'Not that, your eye. That's an old scar, but I betcha Mommy could fix it all up for you! She's the bestest healer in the world! So what happened?' The girl asked yet again. 'It's all red and nasty-looking.'

Licking dry, cut lips, he wished she would just shut up. Shut up and stop asking questions he cannot answer.

Then came the worst of all.

'What's your name?'

He stared at her in horror. She smirked. 'Catowl gotcha tongue?'

Narrowing his eyes in a glare, he decided he cannot have some idiot brat making a jest of him. A random name sprang to his mind, and became his identity. 'My name is Shen.'

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Eh. It sounded better in the present tense, how it was originally written before I discovered the previous chapter was in past tense. It's not that great, but it's here. And if you can't figure out who 'Shen' is, you are truly an idiot. I found out what Shen means too,

Review! And tell me if my OC is a Sue. I was extremely paranoid and took countless Mary Sue litmus tests, let's see if she deserves her low score.