A/N: Please note, there are darker themes within this story. Talk of torture, death, and the like. I do not encourage these practices and if reading about them or listening to them will be detrimental to your well-being, I suggest avoiding them. That said, not all will be in all chapters. Some chapters may contain none at all.

On a different note, this story was written for Alex Kellar's writing challenge number 11. For this challenge, "The Princess," I have chosen to cross Avatar the Last Airbender and Fate.

Now, shall we begin?


Chapter 1:

He stood at the center of the boat, the salt air filling his nose, the tides lapping heavily against the hull, the breeze blowing his red hair into his eyes. He held his hands within his black coat, clutching at two of the multitude of daggers that lined its interior.

Slowly, he breathed in and out as he looked at the six men surrounding him. They were all at least a head taller than him, and quite a bit larger, though as a lean fifteen-year-old that was hardly a surprise.

He didn't want to do this, not that anyone really cared what he wanted, what with Kiritsugu off on his mission. In fact, the crew had all but started ignoring the man's orders before he was out of sight!

"Begin!"

He brought the daggers up and swept them to the side, striking a stone from the air, but he didn't stop, the next rock was already coming. He caught it against the flat of the blade slinging it back the way it had come and ducked beneath another.

Bringing the blades around he struck the next stone, sending it skyward. He grunted as another struck him in the shoulder. Moving with the impact, he threw himself into a forward roll allowing four more chunks of rubble to pass through the space he'd been occupying.

Coming up, he spun, striking the incoming rocks and shattering in a shower of sparks. Pivoting he aimed for the next only to fall forward as three rocks struck his leg taking it out from beneath him.

"Do not let up!"

Rolling to his side he shoved himself up onto a knee using the daggers to shield his head. And just in time too.

'Clang. Clang.'

He stood and with the flat of the blade, he caught several of the stones and angled them towards the railing as he sprinted forward.

"Don't leave the field of engagement!"

The boy rolled his eyes. The "field of engagement" referred to nearly the whole of the deck stopping just short of the railing. Mainly to keep him from placing himself beside it so he wouldn't be able to throw his opponents overboard. Beyond that, the captain was blowing smoke. Not a surprise with how highly he regarded himself.

Thunk. He winced and started to clutch at his side before stopping. The very pointed would-be extensions of himself made checking the injury an all but impossible action. Raising the blades he clenched his jaw as rocks battered against his knuckles.

He didn't let go. He refused to.

"This is your last warning Shirou!"

Shirou snorted but otherwise didn't respond.

"Fine then. Kuzan hit 'im."

Throwing himself to the side, Shirou avoided a very large foot that slammed into the ground. Popping up from the roll he clambered up onto the railing and faced his attacker.

Kuzan wore black pants with a red sash bearing the mark of the Fire Nation on it but nothing else, leaving his impressive gut to bake in the sun. The man took a step forward and threw a punch creating a gout of fire that screamed its way toward Shirou.

Shirou narrowed his eyes, it had just gone from a training exercise to a battle. Two steps to the side took him from the fire's path allowing it to pass him by and leaving him with little more than reddened skin. He turned and heaved the daggers forward. They weren't made to be thrown, but that fact meant little to him. They whipped through the air, whirling bludgeons.

Kuzan didn't bother to dodge, instead, he leaped forward and sent one wave of fire after another, the blaze consuming the weapons in moments, reducing them to slag.

"You idiot! Don't throw away your weapons!"

Shirou ignored him as he was suddenly struck by quiet words. "If you can't defeat your enemy with the weapon you do have, then imagine—"

His head ached even as the whispered words fell to nothing. Shirou didn't have time to puzzle over them either. They'd come back to him. They always did.

Kuzan spun, the fire leaping from his foot as it arched once more through the air.

Shirou's eyes went wide and taking hold of the rigging he began hauling himself upward.

"Kid you can't come up here!" Manta, a thin man wheezed behind a veil of bedraggled dirty blonde hair. He wore dark tattered pants, a bandana about his head, and another tied about his arm. "He'll just burn this down too!"

Shirou didn't stop, or even slow, he pulled the knife from the man's belt and cut a nearby rope. Clutching it tightly, he swung out over the water, a series of fireballs trailing after him. None came close. As he passed over the deck again he released the rope. As he struck the deck he rolled.

He watched as Kuzan approached the railing even as he started to stand and grunted as something hit the back of his head. He hardly had the time to start reaching for it before darkness took him.


Shirou woke just moments later as a rush of seawater cascaded across his face. He flailed and sputtered even as he lunged into a seated position. There he found the majority of the crew, or at least those that had been part of the so-called training session, standing about him. They all looked at him with massive smiles as if they'd won something.

Ahead of them stood the captain, Jiru. A man who smelled of fetid blood, as if he loved it so much he bathed in it. In fact Jiru seemed to revel in the foulness he resonated, his blister mottled face half covered by the long black shaggy fur collar he wore. The fact that his own dark oily hair merged with the fur made him look all the more menacing. He was a man of ashen skin with a knee length dark blue coat that served to make him look even paler.

"Care to explain what that was?" He said and threw the bucket down onto the deck. "How do you expect to awaken to your full potential if you just keep running from the fight?!"

Shirou shook his head and ran a hand through his hair pushing the crimson locks back giving them a spiked appearance. Meeting Jiru's eyes, he smirked, "I told you, your training session was unwanted and unneeded. Kiritsugu—"

"Is far behind in realizing his own potential!"

Jiru sneered as he stepped forward, a glint forming in the sickly-looking man's eyes. One that promised pain. It was the same look Shirou had been warned of while they were still in port. Not to mention the reason he believed the atrocious rumors about the man. Well, that and the smell of blood that seemed to cling to him. Not that anyone seemed to notice.

Not even Kiritsugu, though the man seemed convinced for other reasons. It was clear that he was planning on disposing of Jiru sometime during the trip.

Shirou tensed and surged forward as the captain reached toward him. The limb passed over his head even as he took to his feet. He searched for the knives that should sit at his side, only they weren't there. Right, he realized. He'd removed them for the training session. He didn't take his eyes off the pale-skinned man as he lowered his center of balance and reached once more into his coat.

What Jiru said might very well have been the truth. In fact, it likely was. Most of those his age already had a grasp on their mystery. Even if they were nowhere near mastering it and may never get there. He, on the other hand, was struggling with the simpler lessons.

Nonetheless, there was no way Kiritsugu would put Jiru in charge of anything, except maybe making sure the anchor was deep enough. Even then he'd be sure to have Jiru check personally. Likely by knocking the man out and lashing him to the aforementioned anchor.

Grasping his hands into fists Shirou focused on the well of energy within him and pulled. A burning pain swept through him and with it the tingle that told him he'd succeeded in pulling his energy through his system.

A fact that Jiru was all too quick to take notice of.

He pulled his spindly hands from his pockets, a dark liquid trailing from each of his fingertips. He smiled widely, making the skin on his face tighten in a way that made his eyes appear to bulge.

"You wish to battle with me?" He chuckled, "I who have nearly reached mastery?"

The dark liquid around his fingers widened and lengthened to reach up over his knuckles, giving himself a set of vicious claws.

"Sir." Kuzan reached out and grabbed Jiru's arm before ripping his hand away as if it had been burned. He continued as Jiru turned to him looking furious.

"Sir, if he comes back and the boy is injured…"

Kuzan shivered but didn't finish his statement, probably thinking it was enough. Jiru frowned and spent several moments seemingly arguing with himself. Caution seemed to win the battle as the dark liquid on his fingers began to dissipate. Shirou didn't relax in the slightest, not until the man placed them back into his pockets. And even then he was still ready to throw himself out of the path of a sneak attack.

"Very well." He gave Shirou one last glance before stalking toward the stairs. "We're already running late on our delivery. Not something we can afford if your father fails in his dealings with the Fire Lord. See to it."

Without a word Shirou nodded. There was no way he was going to complain about being off the boat. Enemy nation or not, enemy of the nation or not, Shirou had little doubt that, by and large, the company would be better off the ship.


After he'd been sure Jiru had moved on and was occupied with doing something else, Shirou made his way down into the hold. It was filled with barrels and crates of varying sizes, some of which were stacked as high as the ceiling. All of which were kept in place with copious amounts of rope or netting. On the side of the room, near the hold hatch was the cart. It wasn't anything fancy, a wooden cart meant to be pulled by a person or two but it would be more than enough for his uses.

"I guess I need to get to it." He grunted and from his pocket, he fished out a roll of paper.

Twenty minutes later Shirou looked over the loaded cart. It was loaded to the brim with barrels of alcohol, pickled plums, and salted meats, one of which came from an odd creature called a bear. Not a platypus bear, a skunk bear, or even an armadillo bear. Shirou had checked, and no, it was just a bear.

After another moment of looking his delivery over, he glanced at the hatch and nodded. "I should have gotten it outside first."

Rolling the cart down the gangway was going to be far more annoying because he hadn't.

"Oh definitely." Came the voice of Jiru.

Shirou turned, reaching into his coat to grab at one of his knives but it was too late. He'd hardly managed to take hold of the handle when a large hand closed around his head and arm.

"Did you think I was going to let that go?" He growled. "That you'd be able to treat me with such disrespect as that and I would allow it?"

Tensing up, Shirou brought his arm up to guard himself as best as he could. But it wasn't enough to stop Jiru. The man's boney knuckles slammed against Shirou's ribs, once, twice, three times before he shoved Shirou aside.

Shirou stumbled but pulled his knives out even as he regained his balance. From behind him a high-pitched squeaking chuff resonated. It was followed closely by a loud scraping sound. Catching Jiru's eye, Shirou smirked. His backup had arrived.

From around the barrels to his side a sleek creature about two meters in length prowled into view, its large sharp white teeth framed by its grey coat. Black rosettes were scattered across its slender body. It was a Giant Jaguar Otter, one Shirou was familiar with. After all, Kiritsugu wasn't about to leave him on a vessel with someone like Jiru. At least not alone

"Taiga."

One of her ears twitched at the sound of her name, but she didn't turn to face him. She took a handful of almost wild steps forward, causing Jiru to leap backward.

"Damned animal." Jiru growled, "I knew it was going to be trouble the moment I saw it."

Taiga released a high-pitched roar and slammed her tail into a nearby barrel, sending salted meats and chunks of wood across the floor.

"Listen up you little shit!" Jiru backed his way up the stairs and glared down at Shirou, "You ever talk to me like that again, I'll squeeze your head until your face pops like a zit!

He vanished up the stairs.

Taiga held her position for a minute longer before turning to Shirou, she crooned and pressed her head against his side. Shirou smiled and laid a hand atop her head, his smile dwindled a moment later as he felt a tug at his pocket. She was looking for a treat.

"Typical." He said with a laugh. "But I haven't got anything. If you want food, why not the food you've spilled across the floor?"

Taiga looked up at him, her whiskers twitching, and with her tail batted a salted fish across the room. She grumbled and squeaked before making her way to the hold's exterior hatch and scrambled down the gangway.

He was going to have to make sure to pick something up for her while he was in town.


Making his way up into the town, Shirou found himself hard-pressed to view the majority of the people around him as enemies. He didn't know how Kiritsugu could see the street performer back-flipping their way down the street, looking like a flaming wheel, as evil. But then, apparently, even the little girl eating the meat skewer was downright diabolical! An evil overlord in the making.

He sighed.

"You lost, sailor?" A merchant garbed in pink and red silks asked as she stepped forward. "If you tell me where you're going, I might be able to lend a hand."

"I'm looking for a place called 'Ember Hollow.'"

The woman nodded and pointed up the road, "that's the tavern up on the Baelfire path. Just keep following this street until you find a shop with a sign that looks like swirling fire."

Fishing around in his pocket Shirou pulled a silver coin out and tossed it over to her. "Thanks."

However, as he looked up from retightening his pouch Shirou found the woman had vanished. Suspicion ran through him as he began to haul the cart after him. Faster and faster he moved up the road, weaving through the market streets traffic as best he could manage.

Despite that, it still took nearly an hour for him to arrive.

Ember Hollow was as plain a tavern as Shirou had ever seen. In fact, the windows were even smaller than what he'd been expecting. Much like its owner. Though he was short, the man held himself in a way that left Shirou feeling like he was somehow looking up.

"You're the delivery boy huh?" He grumbled as he looked Shirou up and down. "Can't say ya look like much."

Shirou laughed lightly, it hadn't been the first time he'd gotten the comment and he didn't think it was going to be the last. He offered the man a shallow bow.

"I apologize for my tardiness. I have no excuse."

The man snorted. "I am Ahrim Li." He looked like he wanted to invite Shirou to leave, but as soon as he caught sight of a face peering around the corner of the building, he seemed to think better of it. In fact, his entire disposition changed.

"Want to make it up to me, do ya boy?" Mr. Li chuckled with a creaking laugh. "Then why don't you see to the unloading for me?"

Shirou nodded. "Of course!"

Ten minutes later Shirou picked up the last barrel of alcohol from the cart, the fermenting liquid within swished about as he raised it up to his shoulder. The smell of the plum, mixed with the mild oakiness of the barrel reached his nose. It was the same scent that he lived with for the last ten years. For a brief moment, he could almost believe he was home.

But he was anything but. Adjusting his load, Shirou gazed up at the Fire Lords Palace in the distance. Kiritsugu had to have made it in by then, no doubt he was setting up his attack.

"I must say," Mr. Li said while tugging on his well-trimmed beard as he stepped from the shop while smoothing his leather apron. "I was more than a little irate when you didn't turn up yesterday."

Shirou inclined his head. "Mr. Li, please allow me to once again apologize, the tide made making port far more difficult than we intended."

A lie, but a necessary one. One that had even kept them from pulling into the port till earlier in the morning. After all, it would make their alibi all the better, if they needed one that is.

Mr. Li pulled at his beard before shaking his head.

"You can hardly control the tides lad. Besides, you've more than made up for it by allowing this old man to rest his weary bones."

Shirou smiled, the old man was laying it on a little thick. Just a few minutes prior he managed to catch sight of the old man working several woks over the fire as if they were made of paper rather than iron. But that was fine.

He smiled. "It's my pleasure."

He made his way through the open door and sucked in a deep breath as a blazing deluge of fire raised into the air.

His chest tightened. He could taste the ash and smoke in the air.

. . . . .

"Get a move on youngster! I may appreciate the effort but I have a business to run!"

Blinking hard Shirou shook off the vision. Mr. Li's words had caught the attention of a number of the patrons and they were all looking at him.

"Of course sir." He made his way through the room past the bar counter and into the back. As he reached the rack of barrels and slid his cargo into place, Shirou sighed. It'd been a while since that particular scene had reared its ugly head.

More than aware of the cook's attention on him, Shirou shoved the memory back down. With one more shake of the barrel to make certain it was in place, Shirou made his way out of the kitchen.

As he reached the front of the house Shirou pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket and searched out Mr. Li. The older man was delivering a pot of tea and a tray of buns to a table near the door. He was a master at work. Wearing an easy smile he spoke with them without the slightest bit of hesitation. All the while he moved fluidly placing their cups as he poured them each their first glass.

"Is there a reason you're waiting? Most merchants tend to walk straight up to him and all but demand payment and a signature as proof of receipt."

The speaker was a young woman no older than twenty-five at most wearing a black uniform with an identical leather apron to Mr. Li. She smiled but it was obviously more forced than her bosses while her eyes narrowed toward him.

Shirou shook his head as he turned back to Mr. Li. There was something about the passion the man was showing, the utter joy on his face. There was no way Shirou was going to interrupt.

"Interrupting a master at work is a folly of—"

"Epic proportions."

She finished the phrase as she rounded on him. "Stranger still, who'd have expected a merchant to quote Yinzin Jeong. Doesn't your lot typically prefer Lohi Saowan?"

Shirou paused, he wasn't overly familiar with Saowan Lohi's business practices, but the dishonor of the Saowan was fairly common knowledge. How was he supposed to answer?

"Zeishi," Mr. Li snapped at the girl.

Shirou started not having seen the man cross the distance. Silently he cursed, how was he supposed to accomplish anything if his attention kept slipping from his surroundings? If Mr. Li had actually noticed he didn't show it, all of his focus was on the girl he called Zeishi.

Said girl on the other hand had a much harsher reaction. The color drained from her face and she bowed her head exposing the nape of her neck. It was as if she was trying to guarantee there was no doubt about her subservience.

"I apologize," she spoke quickly and quietly. She glanced up at Mr. Li and then at Shirou before returning to her prior position, no doubt looking for a sign that her apology was being accepted.

Mr. Li's attention, however, had shifted to him.

Raising his hands Shirou shook his head. "Your apology, while accepted and appreciated, is not necessary."

Mr. Li seemed both surprised and pleased as he 'hmmed' quietly.

Zeishi stood almost robotically. "I thank you for your generosity, and hope that my actions will not affect any future business between you and my Grandfather."

"I'd never think of it! Wait, Grandfather?"

He wouldn't have guessed that, not with the amount of fear Zeishi seemed to display at his presence.

Mr. Li smiled and nodded as he tugged on his beard. "Thank you for your generous dealings with my GrandDaughter. She is still young."

Shirou answered with a shake of his head. Obviously, he'd missed something, but just because Mr. Li had stepped in and saved him, didn't mean he was about to let Zeishi suffer.

"I took no offense, so there was no point in being generous. I do, however, have to be going."

"The duties of a sailor are indeed unending." Mr. Li agreed. "Well, I'll not be the one to keep you from your work."

With a gentle tug he pulled the paper from Shirou's hand and rounded the counter where he plucked a brush from a shelf and with swift strokes made his mark. After he pulled out a sack of coins that clinked together as he shuffled his way back over to Shirou.

"Thank you for your patronage," Shirou said.

"I believe the pleasure is mine, I'll be calling on you again soon I'm sure." Mr. Li announced.

Shirou nodded and bowed before making his way out into the day.


As he passed back through the market Shirou eyed the wares and the sellers. One merchant was going through a form, swinging his arms wide as Shirou had seen water benders do. Finally, he pointed two fingers at the fish in front of him and the other toward a hole in the canvas above his stall.

At first, Shirou thought it was some kind of ritual, but as he watched, Shirou managed to spot a slight haze emanating from the merchants raised hand. He was bending the very heat from the fish!

Shirou settled his cart beside the stall. "How much for a fish?"

The merchant looked at Shirou and then at the cart before looking at Shirou again. "Just one fish friend? I assure you my fish is the freshest here in the market. I'll make you a deal, buy nine at twelve copper ban each, and I'll throw in the tenth for half the price."

Shirou winced. Talk about overpriced! That was nearly a silver's worth. He shook his head, it was all bartering, of course, the man was trying to get as much as he could from the deal. It was almost the motto of any merchant worth their salt.

"Too rich for me, friend. I can go as high as five copper ban per fish and that's it."

The merchant threw his arms up forming an X over his chest. "Afraid nines the floor for me. I have to pay the fisherman after all."

Shirou shrugged and started back for his cart. "Sorry about wasting your time. I'll have to find another shop. Their fish might not be as great a quality as what you've got, but I'm sure there's not that much a difference and I saw them advertising for four copper ban a fish."

"Wait, wait."

Shirou could hear the merchant's quick steps as he rounded the counter but he didn't stop. Doing so would only weaken his position. So when a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him about he did his best not to look surprised.

The merchant looked at Shirou, his wide eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"You said someone out there is offering their fish at four ban each?"

The news seemed to upset him. Which meant that it was something that the merchant was expecting. Perfect.

Shirou nodded, "a little shop down near the docks. He was even getting a delivery as I passed by earlier."

The merchant looked down the road toward the docks a look of fury on his face. "Only getting deliveries once a day huh Lee?" He snarled before turning back to Shirou and extending a hand.

"Five copper ban a fish?"

Shirou took the offered appendage and gave it a shake. As soon as the deal was finalized the merchant zipped back into his stall and began wrapping the fish. Shirou pulled the coins from the pouch on his side and a moment later the two made the swap.

Almost as soon as the fish was in his hand a knot of guilt formed in his stomach. Yes, the man was a trader dead set on getting the most coin he could but he couldn't be blamed for that. The guy likely even had a family to support.

As he dropped the fish into his cart Shirou glanced back at the merchant who had already begun conversing with a well-dressed woman. The guilt faded as the two made the deal. Any losses that he'd forced the merchant to incur would be made up quick enough.

Taking up the handle Shirou continued on his way, stopping only twice more. Once at a merchant with fresh vegetables and fruits. The proprietor was a man that looked like he'd seen better days, what with half of his face being nothing but one large bruise. It didn't stop him from trying to haggle the price up. Though even after doubling the weight of the fish in greens and root vegetables it hadn't come close to the fish merchants' prices.

The next was at a jeweler's stall, though he had no intention of buying anything. No, it was the large crowd of women gathered in front of the silk merchant that drew his attention. Or at least the volume of their conversation did.

Rumor couldn't be taken as fact but it wasn't something to be discounted. At least not entirely.

He lifted a silver bracelet from the display and looked it over. It was made by the hands of a master, that much was clear. For all its plainness it would not have surprised Shirou to see a noble lady wearing it.

"My Yazer says that they expect to have the war finished in the next year."

Shirou couldn't see the speaker but he sounded young, and almost wistful.

It was an older woman in mustard yellow that answered him. "And how many times has he told you that Sanae?"

"Just once last year," Sanae mumbled.

There was a chorus of awws. "You'll learn, no soldier knows when a war is going to end. Not really, they just hope like the rest of us. Oh, look at this fabric, did Zael get a new worker?"

It was the older woman in the mustard outfit that answered. "Yes dear, that Agni awful girl who claimed herself a distant cousin to Avatar Roku."

The silk was dropped not a moment later. "Ah, I see. Perhaps we might make Zael aware of her tendency toward falsehoods?"

Another girl snorted. "You wish to see the poor girl bald? How diabolical."

"Well, it's not like she doesn't deserve it."

The group laughed.

"Young sir."

Shirou nearly jumped as he looked up to find a lanky man wearing a silk wrap around his shoulders looking at him with a sad smile.

"May I say you've been turning the bracelet in your hands for some time? If the decision is that hard may I suggest you already have your answer?"

Offering the man a wan smile Shirou nodded and settled the bracelet back into the display. He was about to move on when the merchant held up other options. A pair of golden earrings and a golden necklace from which a heart-shaped amber pendant hung. Within the amber was what looked like a coiling crimson spark.

"Perhaps your special someone would like a necklace or earrings better?"

The items were no doubt well made. Though Shirou couldn't help but notice how much more eye-catching the pendant was, it seemed rather ostentatious in comparison to the elegant studs. Either way, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the price.

He raised his hand about to bow out of the discussion when the lady's topic changed again.

"Have you heard about trouble in the colonies?"

Shirou had, though there was quite a bit of trouble for the Fire Nation peoples that had scattered themselves across the Earth Kingdom countryside. One seemed to have their supplies being constantly raided. Another was dealing with a poisoned river, no doubt from the Fire Nation's factory there. A third was suffering from constant rock falls though if they were natural or not Shirou didn't know. There was even one area suffering from extreme drought and as such fire bending had all but been prohibited.

"Who hasn't? More interestingly, I've heard that the Fire Lord is thinking of paying a visit to the Fire Sages."

Wait for what? He didn't think Ozai was the sort to give more than a passing thought to the spiritual knowledge the sages protected.

"Don't be an idiot, the Fire Lord would have the sages come to him."

Shirou found himself nodding. It sounded right.

"I'm glad to know that we've got ourselves a deal!"

Shirou glanced down as the merchant clasped hands with him and a shiver ran through him. He'd just agreed to buy the earrings and necklace. Well, that was that, he couldn't back out of a deal. Forcing a smile on his face he pulled the coin pouch from his side.

"I'm sorry, the agreed amount suddenly slipped my mind. How much do I owe you?"

The merchant looked at him in surprise. Shirou was certain he was trying to work out if he was being tricked. Finally, he held up three fingers. "Three silver and twenty copper pieces."

Well, that wasn't too bad, Shirou decided. He would even have to say that he managed to get them cheaper than what they were worth. Pulling out four silver pieces he dropped them into the man's hand.

"It's all so pointless. Whether he calls them or goes to them won't change the fact that there's not a whole lot we can do, unless we suddenly have a way to defeat or appease a spirit."

For a moment he thought about pushing the merchant to keep the change for himself. Only the fact that it would've made him stand out kept him from doing so. So upon accepting the copper pieces Shirou inclined his head.

"Thank you."

Slipping his purchase into his pocket Shirou started back toward his cart making sure to keep an ear on the lady's conversation as he went. It wasn't particularly anything useful but at the very least it couldn't hurt to know.

"Of course we do! General Iroh, the Fire Lords' brother! He's calmed them before, and—"

"And he's out with that disgraceful nephew of his. He might as well be—."

Taking up the handle of his cart, Shirou started off. Each step he took, took him further away from the conversation. On top of that, with the scraping of the wheels on the stone path filling his ears, it was only moments before the conversation was beyond him.

He made his way back to the ship quietly. Oh sure, the children still ran through the street laughing and playing what Shirou guessed was Ozai and the Avatar. A Fire Nation version of tag where Ozai was the hero and the Avatar the villain. Lovers laughed loudly as they meandered down the streets. Vendors and barkers called from their stalls. But none bothered him. Perhaps it was the lack of goods in his cart, or maybe it was everyone being tired after a long day's work, but no one even tried to approach them.

It was great.

After parking the cart back in the hold Shirou made his way into the galley. He was, after all, late in getting dinner ready. As that was the case, Shirou kept the meal simple.

Brined puffer-saury, a vegetable soup, and a small loaf of bread. He moved through the mess hall with purpose, placing the plates down in a rare moment of silence.


After dinner, it was time for what he could only call his true lesson. Shirou moved out onto the bow of the ship where she waited.

He lowered himself until he sat opposite Taiga, his attention fully focused on the massive creature's face as she chuffed and her whiskers twitched. According to Kiritsugu, the large aquatic mammals may have been the ones from whom the first of them learned to harness their energies. That they had been the ones from which humans learned.

What's more, from what Shirou had seen Kiritsugu was likely right. When he watched her hunt, or swim, he could feel her energies and see how she outmaneuvered creatures half her size.

At the very least, Taiga was a fair better teacher than Jiru.

Taiga whipped her tail out to the side pushing a dome-like shell into the space between them. The carapace shifted as its spindly legs extended out the sides, and part of the shell on its back became segmented as it released a swaying barbed-tail. It lashed out, its barbs striking the wooden deck and becoming stuck.

Taiga chuffed and raised one paw into the air, then she flexed.

He could feel it, an odd buzz as the energy pulsed and flowed through her with all the speed of drizzling molasses. It twisted and branched, coursing through every inch of her limb until it reached her claws.

He twitched as a small breeze brought a particularly briney scent to his nose. It must have hit low tide. The animal grunted, pulling Shirou's attention back to her.

He watched as the claws changed, no, changed wasn't the right word, they improved. The nail grew slightly longer, the color healthier, the cracks thinned and overall the claw glinted brighter in the moon's dim light.

She lashed out, not at Shirou, for if she had he wasn't sure if he would've been able to avoid it. Probably not. Instead, she struck the Abalone-scorpion's carapace, shattering it in a single blow and sending the mother-of-pearl-colored shards skittering across the bow.

He'd seen her do it again and again, night after night. It was still as impressive as when he'd first seen it. The arachnid muscle's shell was hard enough to turn away a blow from an Earth Kingdom war hammer, and the jaws of eel hounds alike. Its primary predators were the giant serpents which would eat them whole and the toad sharks that used their spiked-tongues to bind the barbed tail even as it pried the muscles from their shells.

Taiga plucked the bleeding arachnid up by its flailing tail and upon raising it to her mouth bit into it. It stilled and the giant jaguar otter began to devour her catch. But her attention didn't leave him. She was waiting for him to attempt the process himself and he knew it.

Shirou stared down at his hand, and after a moment tightened it into a fist. He could do it, needed to do it.

Closing his eyes, Shirou took a deep breath and pressed all of his focus to the flow of his chi. He pulled at it, drawing it up and spreading it through his arm. Muscle, bone, and tendon, Shirou bathed them all in energy, ignoring the uncomfortable heat that seemed to be attempting to scorch him from the inside out.

The wind shifted again, this time bringing with it the smell of steel. No doubt the Fire Nation warships.

A growl brought Shirou's attention back to Taiga just in time to see her launch herself forward. His eyes widen, only practice kept him from moving as she struck. The heat vanished from his arm leaving it feeling unnaturally cold.

Standing Shirou shook his arm.

"I really wish I knew why you keep doing that."

Taiga grumbled as she settled herself back down and raised her paw again. This time she just stared at Shirou until he reached out and pressed his hand against her paw. Her paw was bigger. Though it vanished near instantaneously Shirou still managed to spot the slight baring of her teeth in what he'd learned was her version of a smile.

"Yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who's laughing last when I start cooking your dinner and I forget to add the meat."

Her amused chuffing stopped. Just as Shirou expected.

Instead of returning to what Shirou had little doubt that would have been a lively if aggressive discourse, she pressed her energy through her paw and into his hand. It tingled something fierce, like every bit of his hand had fallen asleep.

Shirou knew the game, it was one Kiritsugu had played with him a handful of times. He pushed back against her paw pushing the warm energy back the way it had come. Though from the heated tingle that remained in his hand he knew he wasn't as successful as he should have been.

Faster than he'd sent it back, Taiga passed the energy through to him again. Only when he started pushing back it felt nothing like the first time which he could only describe as pushing water through a pipe with a plunger. Instead, it felt like he was forcing an avocado through the eye of a needle.

A huge burst of fire erupted from the palace, coloring the sky a vibrant crimson. A hot breeze whipped about him as shutters began to rattle, and the window glass fractured and broke within their panes. A dark cloud of dust and smoke billowed down the streets carrying with it the smell of burnt wood and a sweet scent.

Oil or another type of accelerant, black powder, and blasting jelly. Kiritsugu's go-to redundancy plan. Which meant his first attempt had failed. It wasn't the first time.

Then came the earth-rattling boom that seemed to fill everything.

Taiga stepped up beside him, all of her attention focused on the distant palace. She shifted, pressing herself to Shirou.

Then there was something else, a translucent trembling line. One that invaded his vision, yet it didn't. Moment by moment the undulating signal slowed.

Shirou looked down at Taiga who hadn't looked away. "Are you doing this?"

It was a silly question, it wasn't like the elephant mouse racing down the street was the cause. But what was the line and why had it nearly stopped? Then it did, and his heart began to hammer against his ribs and Shirou understood.

Kiritsugu was gone.

Something in him shifted, creating a hollow feeling that stretched outwards like chorded shadows. Everything they touched numbed, and they seemed almost intent on touching as much as they could.

He shook his head, it didn't matter. He'd more important things to do.

He wanted to race toward the palace, to see if he could save someone, anyone. But before he could take a step the whole situation had changed. As quickly as the flames consuming the building had appeared, they vanished. Considering Kiritsugu would have removed all of the guards, it meant only one thing.

The Fire Lord had survived.

Which meant that if he were to go charging in, best case scenario he would be seen as someone sneaking into the palace during the confusion. In the worst, chances were they'd assume he was working with Kiritsugu.

No, it was better to wait. Especially since Kiritsugu's blast was the controlled sort, leaving the majority of the building scorched but on the whole, undamaged. Besides, the Fire Lord had to save as many of his people as he could. Otherwise, he risked losing the support of the people. Even with his iron fist, it wasn't something the man would want to deal with.

Still, their mission remained. "Remove Ozai and end the war." But how was he supposed to do that when Kiritsugu hadn't been able to pull it off? Was he supposed to climb to the tallest building he could find, pull out a bow and arrow, and see if he could snipe the Fire Lord?

He blinked and the world was different, everything was different. He looked down his arrow, his target a behemoth of a man holding a sword that looked as if it had been half-hazardly carved from a boulder. The man opened his mouth and released what was no doubt a roar and charged toward a blond woman wearing a battle dress and wielding a sword that he couldn't see.

But without a doubt, he knew it was a sword.

"Emiya don't you get it? He failed. He's gone. So, don't just stand there. We need to get out of here. Unfasten the lines."

A cool fire lit in his stomach but Shirou buried it before it could take hold. There was no time for it.

The scene was gone, leaving him on the bow of the ship. Jiru's pale face stood just a few feet away. Standing beside him chewing on his thumb was Manta.

"What?" Shirou asked carefully modulating his tone.

"Don't you see what's going on? We need to get out of here!" Manta all but howled.

Jiru answered before Shirou could. "Yes, because a ship leaving right after that, wouldn't look suspicious in the least."

He swung his arm toward the palace where plumes of smoke still hung.

As much as he hated it, Shirou couldn't help but agree. Leaving wasn't an option, at least not now. Probably not even for a fair while, and that was only if they didn't manage to get caught.

"So what do we do?" Manta asked.

Jiru snorted, and rounded on the terrified man. "We don't panic, and we get ourselves to bed. With any luck, we'll be able to slip out with a few other ships come the morning."

"But if we're waiting anyways, shouldn't we at least wait until the end of the week just in case he survived and got away?"

Against every instinct in him, Shirou shook his head. "Even if he did survive, and I'm sure he didn't, he'd expect us not to wait."

"See, even his son agrees. Now get to your bunk and get some sleep."

Manta didn't disagree, though, from the way he was pinching himself, there was something he wanted to say. In the end, he turned and trudged his way back toward the crews sleeping quarters without another word.

"He failed."

It wasn't a cruel statement meant to insult anyone, just one of undeniable fact. Shirou clenched his hands into fists and nodded. What else could he do?

"He did."

Jiru moved to stand beside him. "Your father had more enemies than just about anybody save the Fire Lord himself. One's that won't ignore you just because he's dead."

Again Shirou nodded. Kiritsugu had been killing for a long time and as careful as he was, there were plenty of people that wanted to hurt him.

"Join my crew and you'll have all the protection you'll need. Your gifts are substantial and you cook well enough. Plus, you don't mind scrubbing floors."

Shirou opened his mouth to flat-out tell the man 'no' and paused. Though there was no way he was about to join the man's crew, Shirou knew he'd no friends in the Fire Nation. Thus, he'd be stuck until he found someone willing to ferry him back to the Earth Kingdom. By which point, who knows what lies Jiru and his people would've spread.

Of course, if Jiru agreed to let him put off deciding till a later time, he'd probably wait until they were well out to sea before forcing the issue. That said with Taiga around he was fairly certain she'd be able to get him back home before it became too much of an issue.

So it looked like he'd be putting off the answer for as long as possible.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

Jiru grunted. "Of course, just don't take too long."

Shirou nodded. He frowned as Jiru began to slowly walk away.

In almost no time at all, the ship and everything around it, save the water lapping against the boats and docks and the chirping of the cricket wasps had fallen silent. And as he looked up toward the tarnished palace in the distance, Shirou knew without a doubt, sleep would not come easily that night.

Eventually, Shirou moved from the deck heading into the forward starboard cabin, the one he shared with Kiritsugu. Or at least the one he had shared.

Though if one were to look around the room they'd be hard pressed to believe anyone roomed there. More than likely they would think it Jiru's trophy room. The walls were lined with slain animals, everything from a stuffed sea raven, to a scale and fang that must've belonged to a massive sea serpent and even a stuffed saber-toothed moose lion. There was a table covered with no less than thirteen porcupine squirrels arranged in various poses, one even held a knife nearly as large as it itself was. Shirou wasn't sure what was worse, their beady eyes all trained on him or the fact that every time he turned around he risked impaling his hand.

Even among the clutter, Shirou had no trouble picking out their sparse belongings. Not a difficult thing considering that each was made up with a single pack with a bedroll strapped to it which lay beside the beds. Kiritsugu's bag was empty, he hadn't left even one of his knives behind, not that Shirou expected him to. On the table beside his bed however, was an unrolled leather case containing a set of cooking knives. Atop it was a note.

Just seeing them brought back the empty feeling.

You've a talent for cooking Shirou, in just a few days your journey will be over. Think about it.

Kiritsugu

He'd found it a few days ago when he'd returned to his quarters after Kiritsugu had left the boat.

Talent or not, he wasn't sure he wanted to ever be a professional chef. Not when so many people were suffering. Especially not when he could do something about it. Which admittedly wasn't much.

Kiritsugu hadn't taught him much about the use of a blade. Hadn't done more than the bare minimum in the training of his mystery either because he didn't want Shirou following in his footsteps. But it didn't matter.

Shirou could almost see Kiritsugu's smile as the man pulled him from the icy waters. He could still hear the words his adoptive father whispered. "Thank goodness. Thank goodness we didn't lose you too."

A cold tightness gripped his chest but Shirou drew in a deep breath and shook his head. No, he wasn't going to be a chef, not when so many people needed to be saved.

Taking hold of the leather bundle and note, Shirou jerked his bag open and dumped its contents onto the bed. He shoved the knives into the bottom of the bag and repacked it. Finally, he flopped back onto the bed and closed his eyes.

"I guess I still have plenty of time to figure out what I'll do. Sorry Kiritsugu, it'll be a while yet before it's all over.

Thirty minutes later he found he was right in his previous assessment. Sleep fought tooth and nail to remain as far from him as it could manage. But eventually, he did fall asleep.


The next morning came, and habit found Shirou in the galley, it wasn't a large space. Hardly large enough for a small stove for when someone managed to catch something. A handful of knives and cleavers waited half buried in the chopping block. And a large pot filled with utensils sat in a tub behind him. Over the stove was the window looking out into the mess.

Seated throughout was the crew and they were waiting.

Waiting for the thick rice porridge whose primary flavoring came from chicken stock bubbling on the stove, while Shirou sliced up pickles.

On the other side of the kitchen swinging doors was Jiru and he was tired of waiting. "Emiya, what's taking so long? These swine need to know the truth of things and they'll not listen to a word until they've got food in them!"

Shirou twitched. "It'll be done in a minute."

"Don't be stingy on those biscuits today either kid! I'm not about to fight my way through the Fire Nation navy on an empty stomach!"

The call came from Bei, one of the men that'd been throwing rocks at him during the training exercise.

"You'll take what he gives you and you'll be thankful!" Jiru growled. "That is unless any of you think you can take over for him, and Drit don't put your hand up. The elephant rats still haven't woken up from the stank that came off of your last batch of biscuits."

The group laughed, but when none of them spoke up to take Shirou's place. Even Shirou allowed himself a chuckle.

A few moments later, Shirou moved through the galley and into the mess, the pot of porridge on the cart along with dishes of sliced pickle and bread. As soon as he'd placed food in front of the last person in the hall, Shirou noticed that two servings remained on the cart. One belonged to Kuzan, the other to Kiritsugu.

Well, he decided, whoever managed to finish their food first would get the extra dish. By the time he settled himself into eating, Jiru stood, his empty tray on the table. The men's spoons stopped clattering against the dishes as everyone turned their attention toward the captain.

"The port has been locked down due to fear that the assassin that attempted to take the Fire Lord's life last night has collaborators."

"So what do we do? Slip out on foot and scatter to try and make it back to the continent in smaller numbers?" Bei asked.

Jiru snorted. "If they have the port locked down, I guarantee you they'll have people watching the roads."

"Then what?" Manta retorted. "My mysteries aren't the sort that are meant for direct combat! Should we just wait here and hope they give up?"

Shirou rolled his eyes, he could already see what was coming as Jiru snapped his fingers and pointed at Manta.

"That is exactly what we are going to do! We will wait until an advantage comes up!"

"Advantage? You talk like you want to take another pass at good old Ozai!" Bei argued. "Don't drag us into your delusion captain. He'd slaughter us before we got close."

Jiru smiled the same toothy smile that Shirou hated. "Oh, we're going to kill the Fire Lord. We're going to take him by surprise—."

"And what? Throw buckets of water at him?" Bei snapped.

"No," Jiru responded in a tone so cool that it dared anyone typically brave enough to respond into silence. "We're going to take him on the docks and throw him into the ocean and then drag his bound carcass out to sea."

"And how long do you think that'll take? A week? A month?" Manta asked after a moment.

The answer came as Kuzan burst through the door drawing all of their attention to him.

"I just got word from my contact, the royal sloop is being prepared!"

Jiru lurched to his feet and rushed Kuzan, where he wrapped his long pale slender fingers around the front of Kuzan's vest. "Do you know why?"

Kuzan shook his head though his attention remained fixed on Jiru's fingers. "No sir."

Jiru shoved Kuzan away and peered around the room. "Does anyone know anything? Why would the Fire Lord decide to leave his palace now? Or are you all useless!?"

"I've heard that the Fire Lord is thinking of paying a visit to the Fire Sages." The woman from the market's words leaped to the forefront of his mind.

Manta raised himself from the barrel he sat on and took a hesitant step toward Jiru. "Sir, isn't that a good thing? All we have to do is wait until the Fire Lord leaves and we can leave without suspicion."

The words resounded about the mess and for a moment, silence reigned. He had a good point, security would all but vanish with the Fire Lords' departure. Yet it was as if fate was giving them a second chance to get things right.

Slim as the chance would be.

"We have an opportunity to make a step toward righting the balance and you want us to run?"

Jiru's words were quiet and promised pain. Considering that many of their people were under the impression the first step to finding their way to the root was finding Aspidoche. The one who had awoken them to keep the balance and had forsaken them after they allowed the balance to tip. Well, Shirou had seen fights begin over less.

Shirou looked up just in time to see Jiru lift the large cleaver and with a roar hurl it toward Manta. Shirou stood but it was already too late.

'Thnk.' The heavy knife bit deeply into the wall, liquid crimson slipping along its edge. A small chunk of flesh struck the floor of the mess hall a split second later. Manta clamped a hand over the bleeding mass that had once been his ear and howled in pain.

"Anyone else want to give up?" He hissed. "Anyone else okay with ruining our reputation?"

No one answered, though Shirou was sure it had more to do with fear of Jiru than with fear of ruining their reputations. After a moment of people shifting restlessly, Jiru seemed to accept no one was going to be saying anything.

"Now, doesn't anyone know anything?"

"Sir," Manta started before trailing off, his voice wavering.

He looked paler than before and he trembled like a leaf in the wind. He took a deep breath, no doubt gathering his courage as Jiru turned to him.

"I recently heard a rumor that Ozai wanted to consult with the Fire Sages." Shirou offered the man, silently urging Manta to keep his mouth shut. "I figured it was just a rumor…"

Jiru nodded and turning, paced toward the door. "Considering the attack he won't want to appear weak. So, he's going to make a show of still being in control."

He turned, smiling a cruel, foul thing that showed far too much tooth and even a bit of his blackening gums. "We need to know the route they will take to the sloop and we're going to need a distraction."

"We're going to need a lot of burn creams." Bei snarked.

"And a plan so he doesn't reduce our pasty asses to ash." Another chimed in.

A moment passed and they quieted as Jiru's gaze turned to them. Shirou held in a sigh. How did they not see that coming? Sometimes he'd swear they would suddenly lose intelligence.

Jiru pulled his hands from his pockets. His knuckles popped and he started toward them only to stop.

"Congratulations, you've volunteered to keep watch on the palace."

Shirou winced, talking about pulling the worst assignment. It would only take one guard, thinking they were hanging around too long to have them carted in. After which, well it'd be kinder to be given a quick death.

Shirou did not envy them.

"And since they need a working brain between them," Jiru started and turned to Shirou. "You'll be joining them."

With hardly a blink Shirou shunted any apprehension he felt aside. If he could keep his crewmates safe then it was worth doing.

"Make sure you carry a spare blade," Kuzan said with a chuckle. "You don't want to know what they'd do to you in there."


Chapter End

AN: Hey there, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! However, whether you did or didn't please feel free to let me know any and all thoughts you may have. Though, if it's a mere difference of opinion, then please be aware I may choose not to make the change.

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