**Note from author: Da Svidaniya (yes, I know what it means; Dutch, you suck). Thanks to everybody who's been reading, and an extra thanks to everyone who's following and/or favoriting; it means a helluvalot to me. Thanks in advance to anybody who happens to drop a review or even just a comment. Enjoy.**

Even with every firebender on the ship helping out, minus Prince Zuko and General Iroh, it still took us the rest of the long polar day to dig most of the ship out. At last, with the majority of snow and ice seared away from the bow, the engineers had a team go downstairs and start slowly heating the metal hull of the ship, to melt any ice that was bonded to it. Ever so slowly, the helmsman eased the engines into reverse, and at last we scraped out of the mountain Aang had brought down on us. I was as dog-tired as the rest of the crew, and only Zuko's stern eye kept my guard detail from falling asleep on the job. As it was, they practically had to carry me back to my cell, but not before I got a good look at the extensive damage to the ship.

Gaping cracks and rents split many of the seams, showing the red light of the lanterns below deck. The ship's railing was smashed almost beyond repair, and the forward ramp looked like it was going to need some serious work from the engineers before it would even think about lowering. To my eye, most of the metal was so twisted and wrinkled that the armor plating needed to be replaced outright.

I was chained back up by Lieutenant Jee, who was grateful that I had behaved myself on deck and took it upon himself to feed me a generous portion of the cook's best work before he left. A little while later, the ship lurched forward, and I heard the familiar chugging rumble of the engines back at full steam. We were underway again, heading for the nearest Fire Nation docks.

I slept the sleep of the dead until General Iroh came to see me a few hours later, bringing me more food and some intelligent conversation. We talked mostly of little things, although I did pick his brain about what he thought of his nephew's capture of Aang.

"I've never seen him more detached than when he was speaking to the Avatar," he told me. "Even when he had what he wanted, what he thought he needed, he still was not happy. I worry about him," he admitted. "All I want is to see him happy."

"So you would let him imprison a helpless boy for the rest of his life?"

Iroh laughed, but it carried no mirth. "He is far from helpless, it seems, and so are you." His face grew long, and he absently stroked his goatee. "I will do what I must to help my nephew achieve his destiny," he said stoically, and I got the idea that he was keeping something back. Still, I didn't press him, as I enjoyed his company, and he seemed grateful that I let it go.

We talked for an hour or so, then he begged to be excused and thanked me for my company, promising to ask Zuko to allow me on deck more often.

We must have sailed for a day or so, judging from the frequency of my meals, when I was visited by the one person I hadn't expected to see.

"Prince Zuko? What can I do for you?" I asked, halfway surprised. No doubt he was here to rant about how the Avatar's escape wouldn't stop him from reclaiming his throne.

"You can listen," he said in a voice like polar ice, standing within arm's reach of my cage. Then he looked away, sighed, and took a deep breath. Then, in a voice slightly warmer than polar ice, he amended, "I'd like you to listen to what I have to say."

"It's not like I have much else to do."

He growled, snorting a bit of steam, before visibly making an effort to calm down. "It would make this a lot easier on both of us if you showed me a bit more respect."

"I show respect to those who earn it," I informed him matter-of-factly. "Like your uncle, for instance."

Incredibly, he seemed to smirk for literally half a second, before his brain told his body to stop being crazy. He looked at me with an expression I couldn't read, then said softly, "He's the reason I'm here." He huffed then and sat abruptly. I'd never seen him act this way; he was always the high-and-mighty Prince Zuko, son of the Fire Lord, destined to capture the Avatar and take his father's place one day. He was really throwing me off my game by acting like a human being. "Look, I'm really no good at this," he grumped hesitantly, "but… thank you for helping with the ship." He brightened considerably, Zuko-style, by scowling after having said this, apparently feeling better now that he'd said his required piece.

Wheels started turning in my head, and I thought back to the look he'd given me when we'd talked before, how I'd seen the piece of the boy he'd been still lurking inside. Was this a chance to turn him to my side? Could I convince him to leave Aang alone?

"Are you saying that because General Iroh told you to, or because you actually mean it?"

"I actually mean it, if that's not so hard for you to believe, prisoner," he snapped back. Good old Zuko.

I nodded, conceding the point. "Tell me something, if it's not too much trouble: how did the Avatar escape?"

"Why should I tell you that?"

"Partly because it amuses me that he escaped you so quickly and partly because I'm genuinely curious; I don't have much entertainment down here, so listening to people to talk is all I've got."

He narrowed his eyes, probably trying to comprehend my brutal honesty as something other than an insult, then stood up and crossed his arms. "I don't know how he got away from his guards, but when I heard he'd escaped, I went straight to his staff. I knew he'd come looking for it," he said with an evil frown. "I underestimated him again, and he got away from me." He gritted his teeth, and his hands formed into fists. "I caught him when he tried to fly away, then blasted him off the deck."

Here, he hesitated, and I leaned forward intently. "He fell into the ocean. I have no idea how, but he shot up out of the waves on a giant tentacle of water," he said, his eyes going wide at the memory. "I've never seen anything like it."

"No one has; the Avatar's been missing for a hundred years, remember?"

Zuko ignored me. "His eyes and those arrow things were glowing. We had him surrounded, but he threw us all overboard with a flick of his hand and a wall of water." He started pacing. "Then his damn Water Tribe friends showed up on some giant flying bison and picked him up. Uncle and I tried to shoot them down, and that's when he dropped a glacier on the ship." He shook his head, as though he was trying to forget the whole event. "But he won't escape me again," he assured me.

This time, it was me who snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it. In the meantime, what are you going to do now?"

"Isn't it obvious? We need repairs. We're heading for the nearest Fire nation dock." He started muttering, obviously talking to himself. "From there, we'll have to pick up his trail somehow…"

I cleared my throat noisily. "How are you supposed to find him?

"I don't know," he huffed, running a hand over his mostly-bald head. I looked at him for a moment, and a crazy thought struck me. My mind raced, my brain working on overdrive as I thought of a way I could maybe, just maybe, get out of these chains without forcing Shun to betray his nation.

"What if I helped you?" I said suddenly, and his eyes snapped up in disbelief.

"What?" he said, shocked. "Why would you do that?!"

"Look at me, Prince Zuko," I said softly. "You and I aren't so different."

"We are nothing alike," he tried to retort vehemently, but it was half-hearted, and I could tell I was starting to reach him.

"We are," I insisted. "We're both firebenders, both outcasts, both scarred and abandoned by fate."

His hand crept up to his face. "You aren't scarred. Not like me."

"Am I not?" I challenged. "Haven't you seen the markings here on my chest, the ones burned into my back? I have been branded by my heritage, as scarred as you are." He looked up at me, and he was suddenly just a young, misguided teenager. "We can help each other. If you are willing to try, we could be friends."

Zuko recoiled, the word alien to his ears. "Friends? How could we possibly be friends?" he spat. "I've kept you a prisoner on my ship for two years, and you suddenly want to be my friend?"

"I won't lie, I hated you for a long time," I admitted. "But I've had countless jailors over the years, Prince Zuko," I said wearily. "I gave up on my hatred for them long ago. In the end, they all thought they were doing what was best. The same is true for you."

He stood suddenly and turned away. "You're just trying to escape."

"I won't lie, it would be nice to finally be free of these cuffs," I said, forcing a laugh. "But all jokes aside, where would I go? There's really no place in the world for me; my place right now is at the Avatar's side, and the best chance I have of finding him is to stick close to you."

"You do realize that I want to find the Avatar so I can capture him and turn him over to my father?" Zuko said darkly. "Don't think you can stop me."

"Maybe not, but I might be able to change your mind. And even if I can't, being friends with the Avatar's decoy wouldn't be such a bad thing, right?" I pressed.

"I'll be honest, Prince Zuko, I'm wasting away in here. I get barely enough food, I'm hanging in chains all day, and the only friendly conversation I get is from your uncle. It's in my best interests to help you find the Avatar, if not capture him. I need a friend, Zuko; it's been too damn long since I've had one, and I suspect the same could be said of you."

He turned to face me, his face hard. "Even if we somehow manage to be friends, we'll still be enemies. Nothing is going to change that."

"Then I can be trusted, yes?" I answered, chuckling dryly. "Even if you can only trust me to be your enemy, there'll be no surprises or watching your back with me. I'm not going to stab you in the back or pitch you overboard on a dark night; how would I find the Avatar then?"

"I'm not sure I'd let my enemy stand at my back," he said with his signature scowl-that-was-really-a-smirk.

"A wise man once said, 'Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.'" I looked at him intently. Finally, I ran out of words and said, "So, are you going to let me out of here?"

Zuko frowned at me, his brow furrowing. He said nothing as he turned back around, simply standing with his back to me as the long minutes ticked past. Silence reigned. Finally, he looked over his shoulder and said, "We'll be at the docks before long. I need to oversee the final preparations." With that, he strode away, and I sagged in my chains.

'Well, so much for that,' I thought grimly, struggling not to give up hope. So what if it hadn't worked? Trying to get on Zuko's good side was crazier than me picking my locks with a shard of genimite and riding a komodo rhino off into the sunset; there was nothing to be mad about. I still had Shun, my ace in the hole. If I couldn't convince him to free me, that's when I'd be in serious trouble. 'I don't know why I asked that prissy ass anyway,' I grumbled.

"What am I supposed to do with him, Uncle?" Prince Zuko moaned. He and Iroh were standing on the balcony of the command tower, keeping an eye out for any sight of the Fire Nation harbor. In the distance, a short mountain range obstructed their view of the sun rising. They were still close enough to the South Pole that a chill wind whipped around them, threatening to worm its way through their thick robes and tunics.

"With who?" Iroh played dumb, though he had a good idea as to whom his nephew was referring.

"With the prisoner!"

"Well, it might help if you learned his name to avoid further confusion in the future," Iroh advised. Turning for a moment, he asked a nearby guard to go down to the cook and arrange for a pot of tea to be brought up. The guard looked vaguely amused-how much tea could this old man possibly drink in one day?-but obediently went off in search of the cook.

"I don't need to know his name, Uncle. I need to know what he's up to." Zuko outlined his discussion with Dao while the old man waited impatiently for his tea.

Iroh took a contemplative sip when it arrived. "It doesn't sound like he's up to anything other than being helpful."

"He just wants to get out of his chains," Zuko grumbled.

"Wouldn't you?" Iroh retorted gently. "I know you don't want to trust him, but he's right about one thing: he has no real reason to hurt or hinder you. He already said he harbors no ill will from his imprisonment, yes?"

"Yes, but still… I just don't know what to think," Zuko sighed. He looked out over the water towards the mountains, where a huge Fire Nation banner was slowly waving into view, marking the harbor mouth. "I don't want to make the mistake of letting him escape."

Iroh laid a hand on Zuko's arm. "Sooner or later, one way or another, Dao will escape," he said, as certain as the passing of time. "We cannot hold him forever; the only reason your ancestors managed it for so long is because they had him moved from prison to prison every few years so he wouldn't become too familiar with one place." Iroh turned his nephew to face him. "Would it be so bad to be the first man in a hundred years to show him kindness?"

Troubled, Zuko shrugged off his uncle's arm. "This is a matter for another time," he decided brusquely. "Right now I need to concentrate on getting us in and out of the harbor as quickly as I can." The young prince turned to the command tower, his uncle shaking his shaggy head in disappointment, and pointed at the slowly-approaching harbor banner. "Helmsman! Take us in!"

Raised voices outside the prison hold shattered my fragile concentration, and my eyes snapped back to their normal human state. I could have screamed from frustration-I was so close to my spirit side!-but I counted backwards from ten, breathing slow, and strained my ears to hear what was being said. However, the thick steel muted their words, and all I could do was sit in the dark and wonder what was going on.

After a few moments, the voices of the guards faded away. Suddenly, the door banged open, and a trio of guards I'd never seen before stood in the doorway. I stared at them, curious, while they goggled at me with a mixture of disbelief, awe, and anger.

"I'm not the Avatar, if that's what you're thinking," I piped up, not exactly eager to be mistaken for the Fire Nation's greatest threat.

The lead guard leveled his spear at me. "If you're not the Avatar, then who are you?"

"My name is Dao. I was captured from an Earth Kingdom village in a Fire Nation raid. I've been imprisoned on this ship for two years," I told them faithfully.

The oldest guard looked doubtful. "If you're from the Earth Kingdom, then what's with the airbender tattoos?" He looked at his fellows. "He's an airbender!"

"No, I'm not!" I cried. "It's just a disguise."

The lead man fixed me with a look. "Prove it."

"With pleasure." Summoning my strength, I filled my lungs and blew a giant tongue of flame that cascaded all along the ceiling, nearly baking us all in the confined space. Sparks flew from my manacled hands, and the floor beneath my feet began to shine cherry-red. I lowered my head and bared my teeth devilishly, the flares of flame from my fingertips backlighting my snarl. "Do I look like an airbender to you?!" I thundered, my eyes burning feverishly.

To their credit, the men stood their ground for almost a full second before turning tail and running. Cutting off my display, I laughed to myself as I caught my breath; I had to enjoy the small things in life, after all, and I hadn't had any real entertainment in years.

Still, the fact that there were guards on the ship that I hadn't seen before spoke of something fishy going on. I'd seen everyone but the cook and the helmsman, and neither one would be patrolling the ship, especially since we were docked. 'We're being searched,' I concluded, sure that I was right. 'But why? And by whom?'

My question was answered a few minutes later when Shun slipped into the prison hold. "Long time no see," I told him, quirking an eyebrow. "Who were those guards? New crew?"

Shun's face lit up with mirth. "If I could, I would personally shake your hand," he laughed. "Those soldiers tore out of here like they had a pack of shiershu on their heels!"

I smiled. "Glad to be of some use, my friend. What were they doing here?"

Shun's expression became troubled. "I don't quite know. They were going around asking everyone a question or two. They grabbed Lieutenant Jee, though, and a few other men, then took them to the bridge. They were up there for a good couple hours."

"Sounds like an interrogation to me," I said suspiciously. "What were they asking about?"

"Just what we've been up to since we've been at sea, if we were content and happy, stuff like that," Shun replied, coming into my cage and fingering the ring of keys at his belt. "Can I trust you to play nice if I uncuff your hands?"

I briefly considered it. Here was a chance to get out of here, but I didn't like my chances of escape from a fully-garrisoned harbor. My mind made up, I gave him a mischievous grin. "Why, Shun!" I exclaimed in mock-affront. "Of course! You can always trust me." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

He chuckled. "I know, Dao, but I always have to ask. Our friendship isn't exactly smiled upon, and I don't like to think of my chances for a comfortable life if the Fire Nation's most infamous prisoner escaped on my watch." With a clank, my wrist cuffs fell off as Shun unlocked them.

"I could just knock you out, make it look like it couldn't have been your fault," I suggested offhandedly, drawing back a fist.

Shun continued the game, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "But I couldn't shirk my duty to the Fire Lord, so you'd have to deal with this!" he laughed, motioning me to have a seat on the cold metal floor before folding his legs and joining me.

I gave him a look that told him he was crazy. "Your duty to the Fire Lord?" I asked incredulously. I gestured at the glyph-inscribed bars around me and tapped the ever-present bands of steel on my chest. "Is it your duty to Ozai to keep me in here?" I demanded, trying to keep my voice light. "Is it your duty to keep an innocent young boy against his will, no matter how old he actually is?"

Shun gave me a look of pity that I couldn't help but detest. "You know I would set you free if I could."

I wiggled my feet, making the chains there rattle. "You've got the keys right on your belt."

"I meant if it would do any good." He took off his helmet and ran a hand through his naturally curly hair, trying to keep it from matting to his skull. He failed miserably. "How old are you exactly? You've never told me."

It was obvious what he was doing, but I let it slide; getting into a fight with possibly my only real friend aboard the ship wasn't a good idea. "That's because you've never told me how old you are," I returned.

"I guess that's fair," he conceded with a smile. "I'm twenty-three years of age."

"A hundred and twelve."

He gave a good hearty laugh that died awkwardly away as he noticed the look I was giving him. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"As a sick sky-bison."

"What?"

"Nothing."

He gulped a little and began playing with the key ring, spinning it on his pointer finger. "So, exactly how long have… Um, how long have you looked… have you been…"

"How long have I been twelve?" I finished, and he nodded furiously. "A hundred years; almost to the day, I think."

He shook his head, trying to comprehend it. "Why? How?" he asked softly, and I could only shrug my shoulders. "Beats me. I am half-spirit, you know. If I had to guess, I'd say it was that."

"Probably. I mean, what else could it be?" He reached out with a finger toward my shoulder. "May I?"

I nodded-he'd done this once before-and he began following a line of my tattoos down my arm to the red arrow on my hand, his finger hovering an inch or so above my skin. "Where did you get these?"

"I was raised as an Air Nomad," I explained. "These are traditional tattoos. When an airbender turns ten, he gets the arrow tattoos as a sign that he's ready to begin his training."

"What about the girls?"

"What about them?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, pulling at a lock for emphasis. "Do they get shaved, too, or is there a different set of tattoos for them?"

"They get to choose whether they shave their heads or not. If not, then this arrow," I explained, pointing to the one on my head, "stops at the base of the neck, pointing to the skull."

"Fascinating," Shun said, intrigued. "What about these, and the ones on your back?" He pointed to my chest, where red whorls disappeared under the steel bands. "The ones on your back look a little like wings."

"I was born with them." I tapped a finger on my own chest. "I don't what they mean or where they came from." Twisting my torso, I craned my head and looked at my back as best I could. "As for these, I have to agree with you; unfortunately, they don't actually work," I laughed, "or I'd have flown away from here a long time ago."

Shun squinted in thought. "I swear I've seen that pattern in a few of the spirit shrines and temples I've been to," he puzzled, running a hand over his smooth chin as he tried to remember.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Twisting back around to face him, I added, "Speaking of which, would it be too much to ask to get these bands off for a second or two so I could put a shirt on? Even a tunic to pull over them would be better than being half-naked all the time."

Shun's brow furrowed. "I can probably get you a shirt, but those bands aren't coming off. I don't even know if there's a key for them on the ship."

"A shirt would be great!" I grinned. "And maybe some pants that don't feel like they'll fall apart at any moment?"

He chuckled. "I'll see what I can do, my friend."

We talked easily for a while longer. He mentioned a woman back in the Fire Nation that he was writing to, but waved away my eager questions, claiming, "It's just early stages right now. There's no details yet." He told me of his love for his home, a small family cottage on a hill that looked over a rustic village in the valley below. He waxed on and on about his favorite hobby, painting, and how he'd sit on his front stoop for hours and paint the progressing stages of the sunrise as it dawned over the distant mountains. "I've been away from home too long," he said wistfully. "It's been over two years. I miss my little sister, too."

"You miss home?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I've been away for over a century!"

I'd meant it as a joke, but he looked at me with a sorrowful expression. "I'm sorry, Dao," he apologized fervently. "I can't imagine what that must be like…"

"Don't be sorry," I said gently, leaning over and putting a brotherly hand on his shoulder. "This is far from your fault, and I understand where you're coming from. For your sake, I hope Zuko quickly realizes how pointless his quest for the Avatar is and sends you home."

Shun smiled gratefully at me. "Thanks, Dao." Standing, he continued, "Unfortunately, I should probably get back and check on how the repairs are going. I promised one of the engineers I'd help out."

I groaned, then pulled a long, mammoth stretch before getting to my feet. "Thanks for coming down, Shun," I said.

"Anytime," he promised. He was reaching up for a manacle when I thought I heard something. I strained for a moment and heard it again.

"Someone's coming," I hissed urgently. "Hurry!"

He was just relocking the second cuff when loud footsteps rang out on the other side of the prison hold's door. "Go, go!" I urged, and Shun bolted for the door to the cage. He barely had it closed when a guard eased open the thick metal portal of the hold.

A man with a breathtaking set of mutton chops strode in like he owned the whole harbor, never mind Zuko's ship or the prison hold. He was an impressive specimen of soldier, easily six-and-a-half feet tall with shoulders nearly as wide as the doorway. His brown hair was gathered into a neat topknot on his head, and his arms hung easily behind his back. And his face… I suppressed the urge to shudder. If Zuko's face was cold and cruel, then this man's face was a field of magma, burning with satanic potential. His lips were locked in a thin line, but his brow bespoke triumph and arrogance.

Shun snapped to attention, throwing a stiff salute, but the man ignored him completely. Wondering why Shun was being so soldier-y, I peered closer. Only then did I notice the man's red sash and the golden medallions affixed to his armor. 'Ah. A commander.'

He really did own the whole harbor.

"Zhao." He introduced himself with a mocking bow and swaggered forward. His voice held all the authority of his position, but there was an animalistic rasp to it that lurked in the shadows as a warning of his savagery.

I began with "If you think I'm the-" but he raised a hand to stop me. "So, the rumors are true," Commander Zhao mused. "You're the little secret Zuko's been hiding these past few years." He chuckled darkly to himself, and it reminded me of a wolf laughing to itself before it murders a deer.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said defiantly.

"You're the Avatar's decoy." His voice told me he had no doubt that he was right. "Well, this really is a pleasant surprise. And it explains why the incompetent royal brat actually managed to find the Avatar; you must have led the prince right to him." The corner of his mouth turned up in a confident smirk. "And now you'll do the same for me."

"I'll lead you straight to hell!" I shouted, sparks flying from my fingertips. "Don't test me, Commander; you have no idea what I'm capable of." Which had to be true, since I only had a rough estimate as to what I was capable of.

"I'm sure you'll see it my way sooner or later. After all, I'll have plenty of time to change your mind," Zhao replied, giving me a fiery look. He turned to Shun before I had a chance to retort. "And who are you?" he demanded.

Shun threw up another crisp salute. "Private First Class Shun, sir. I'm one of the transfers from the Army." Despite his razor-sharp posture, he was sweating. I saw his eyes flicker to me several times after he spoke.

Zhao's nostrils flared, as though he could smell fear, and narrowed his eyes. "What were you doing down here with the prisoner?"

Shun's Adam's apple bobbed vigorously. "I'm his personal caretaker, sir. I bring his food and allow him to use the toilet. Such as it is," he added, glancing at the privy bucket and blushing slightly. "I also… Also bathe him every now and again. Only on orders, of course."

Zhao's eyes narrowed even further, but he seemed to buy it. "At ease," he told Shun, taking him by the shoulder and leading him a few steps away. He beckoned one of his own men closer. Zhao muttered something to him that I couldn't catch, then gave me one last hungry, triumphant look before sweeping away with a flourish of his red sash.

Zhao's man muttered something in turn to Shun, who nodded vigorously after a moment. He listened a bit more, then looked at me quickly over his shoulder. It was too fast, but I swear he looked like he'd either jump for joy or break down and cry. He nodded again, then snapped to attention. Zhao's man dismissed him, and Shun strode away purposefully.

With my only friendly face leaving to do spirits-knew-what, that left just me and Zhao's men, plus the regular two door guards. The soldier in charge walked cautiously toward me, no doubt having heard what I'd done to his search party. "I was told you're not the Avatar, and that me and my men shouldn't have any trouble," he ventured, his bushy mustache wiggling nervously in time to his words. "Is that true?"

I grinned so fiercely that the soldiers all took a step back, and I would've sworn that a touch of my spirit side was showing. "Why don't you come and find out?" I said through clenched teeth.

The leader took a breath to steady himself, and his men did the same. "I refuse to be baited by some prisoner boy," he determined, his confident demeanor ruined somewhat by his trembling hands. Then he said the words that I was quickly coming to hate, and I let all the bluster slowly drain out of me; at the moment, it would only hurt me, and I was still tired from my earlier display.

"Bind him."

The bastards bound, gagged, and hooded me with wet sackcloth. This would've been bad enough, but then they just left me in my cell, my arms still awkwardly cuffed above my head and my feet securely chained to the deck. Just before they left, the soldier with the nervous mustache told me that his men would come back to get me soon.

Soon turned out to be a good three hours later.

I was hauled unceremoniously out of my cell and through the ship by a great smelly bear of a man. I did my utmost to badmouth the soldiers' mothers and insult their ancestors, but the gag probably prevented them from hearing my nastiest insults. They literally dragged me through the metal corridors, my feet suffering from every bump and raised doorway.

Finally, I was half-shoved, half-marched out of the ship's forward ramp and onto the slush-covered stones of what must have been the docks; I could tell from the light, cold breeze that brushed my exposed skin, as well as the peculiar harbor smell that inevitably permeates the air wherever boats are docked invading my nose, even through the hood. The soldiers turned me right, and we walked for almost a minute before they turned me again and directed me up another ramp, this one much longer and steeper, as well as frighteningly unstable.

"Careful, or you'll pitch it into the sea," someone snarled, and the ramp steadied. 'They must be taking me up a gangway,' I thought miserably; I was going back onto another ship.

I made it onto the deck without incident, and the soldiers turned me again, only stopping me after I'd stubbed my toe on the ship's rail. Thankfully, the gag was still in my mouth, or else I might have taught these seamen some new curses, and I didn't want to do them any favors.

"Take that bloody thing off 'm. Everyone should be able to watch this," a voice sneered, and a moment later the wet sackcloth was yanked from my head. I'd expected the explosion of light to be too much at first, but the light was surprisingly soft. Looking around, I saw a massive orange globe just beginning to sink below the horizon. "Show's over here, boy," the voice growled, and a rough hand grabbed my chin and redirected my gaze.

My jaw tightened on the gag with the urge to bite off a few of this man's fingers, but slackened when I saw what lay before me. We were on the deck of a Fire Navy warship, almost twice the size of Zuko's outdated cruiser. A dozen other ships were lined up to the left and right; I could see the prow of Zuko's ship poking out from between two warships, the forward ramp no bigger than my little finger from this distance. A little ways away sprawled a large parade ground outlined by a high stone wall, its corners lit by huge, fiercely-burning bonfires that were already fighting against the fading light.

Standing at one end of the parade field was a small group of soldiers surrounding a lone, bare-chested man draped with a red cloth. At the other end, a short, portly man stood facing a tall, thin figure on one knee. Even from here, I swore I could sense Zuko's blind determination, his unshakeable yet misguided resolve. Zuko and the other man, who I took to be Zhao, stood and turned in sync, then walked purposefully toward the center of the field. "Five gold pieces says Zhao wins in less than thirty seconds," a soldier behind me muttered. "I'll take that," said another.

"Quiet! I could have you thrown in the brig with the freak here for gambling," said the man who'd grabbed me with a wink and a joking smile. He elbowed me in the head, rumbling, "Lucky boy, you get to watch the banished prince get his ass handed to 'm!" With a start, I realized I was about to witness something I'd only

ever heard about: an Agni Kai.

A Fire Duel.

At this distance, it was hard to follow the deadly match. Zuko started with some basic fireballs, which Zhao easily dodged or absorbed, breaking the fireball apart with ease. Then the prince moved on to more advanced forms, spinning kicks and slashing chops bringing up swirling waves and blades of flame toward Zhao. The older firebender lit his palms with a mat of heat and batted all the attacks aside, bringing his hands together and letting a searing stream split around him, ribbons of orange and yellow screaming past his face.

Then it was apparently Zhao's turn to retaliate. With every solid step he took forward, he sent another powerful blast of fire Zuko's way; with every step, I swore I saw the water around the ships trembling.

Finally, Prince Zuko could take no more and was sent sprawling. With a flying leap and a thunderous battle-cry, Zhao landed with a foot firmly planted on either side of Zuko's prone form. Even standing so far away, I could still make out the furious heat haze billowing off Zhao's fists as he prepared to end Zuko's life. The guards around me began to laugh and joke, wondering who had to pay whom, while I was struggling to tear my eyes away before I had to watch Zuko's spirit peel away from his body; despite my best efforts, I resisted myself.

There was a swirl of motion that was too fast for me to follow (I would definitely have needed to see it again; perhaps twice, but slower) and Zuko was suddenly on his feet, while Zhao was struggling to regain his. Zuko began kicking skirts of fire at Zhao's feet, expertly keeping him off balance. As Zhao continued desperately stumbling backward, Zuko began kicking fireballs toward him, throwing the more experienced man further and further off his game.

With one last massive kick, and several angry groans from my guards, Zhao was blown from his feet, rolling along the rough stone for several feet. I gave a great cheer around my gag as Zuko ran over and assumed the dominant position, ready to blast Zhao's brains out.

Suddenly, my vision was full of soggy sackcloth, and my ears were full of the furious bellow of a man that sounded slightly relieved to have something to direct his anger toward. I gathered my breath and cheered even louder. I'm pretty sure it didn't make it to the parade ground, though, because at that exact moment a heavy fist came down on my head, putting any thought of rooting for Zuko out of my head.

Well, any thought at all, really, except for the flat blank blackness of unconsciousness.