I probably made Mai a bit verbose, here. I'll have to deal with that later. Still, happy with Iroh as usual. I find him very easy to write, for some reason.

Iroh blew a melancholy tune on his tsungi-horn. He had been so young when he heard this song first. A boy, really, out in the world alone. So long ago, and yet its every note still flowed through him. Zuko was angry. Well, that was hardly news. Zuko was often angry. It flowed in their bloodline to be angry; there was a reason why their family, the nameless House which steered the Fire Nation for so many generations, always produced firebenders, and usually of unmatched power. Just as power flowed along the threads of time, so too did anger, so too did rage. So too, did madness.

"You're not even watching anymore!" Zuko shouted. Iroh let the song drift for a moment, looking up. Golden eyes met golden eyes. "How are you supposed to be teaching me what I need to defeat the Avatar if you're not even going to pay attention?"

"I do not watch, because I have faith that you are doing it correctly," Iroh said. "If you were not, I would know."

"If I'm doing this correctly, then teach me something new," Zuko demanded. Iroh let out a long breath.

"Practice the basics, Prince Zuko," he said. "There is a skill in being able to do simple things well, and in trying circumstance, which having a few unreliable tricks cannot match."

"You're just trying to hold me back," Zuko turned to the rail.

"Yes," Iroh said. Zuko shot a look at him out his burned eye. "To keep you from doing something which would only harm you. There are things in this world you are not prepared for. You have been improvising, and that improvisation has not been working. You have to try a new path. It is a mark of madness to believe that if one keeps doing the same thing over, and over, and over again, that it will somehow have different results."

"Then show me how to do something different, instead of all this basic forms, this meditation, this Agni-shadowed 'breathing'! I've been breathing since I was born!" Zuko said.

"Patience, nephew. Please, have some patience. There is a method to my instruction. You complain about the breathing? Chi comes from the belly, and without a strong billow of breath, it gutters. Chi flows most easily in firebending of any style. If your chi is stagnant and weak, so will be your bending. The breath of fire is a reserve of resolve and power you must cultivate, so it will always be there when you need it most. Perfect it, and it will save your life."

"But I already breathe. I feel the fire. I need something useful. I need something which will help me capture the Avatar!" Zuko implored. Iroh sighed and lifted the tsungi-horn over his head and set it aside.

"And then what?" he asked gently. "You are so focused on the end of the road that you never look to see where your feet are landing. That is the easiest way to find yourself tripped up. And I won't always be there to help you back to your feet. You claim I am not helping you gain the Avatar, but that is only because you don't see the path that you walk. You are already moving toward him. You just don't realize it."

"I don't understand," Zuko said.

"That's alright. You're young. You're allowed to not understand," Iroh, said, laying a gentle hand on his nephew's shoulder. "You will find the Avatar. You will stand beside him in the Fire Palace. Your father will welcome you home; you will regain your honor. But remember to see the path. Sometimes, it takes us to our goals in ways that we never expect."

"Thank you, Uncle," Zuko said, quietly. Iroh nodded.

"Come. I think there is something I can teach you."

"What is it?"

"Stand over there, and cast flame at me," he said. Zuko protested, but Iroh cut him off. "Please, have some faith in your uncle."

"Fine. I'll go easy on you, though," he said.

"Please don't. I want this to be perfectly clear," Iroh said, setting himself into a low stance. Zuko hesitated for a moment, then punched a small fireball at Iroh. Iroh clapped his hands together in front of him, and the flame diverted past him, to dissipate over the water. Zuko looked confused, then tried again, this time with a massive blast. Iroh touched his fingertips to the deck plating, and let his chi cut the attack in half, flowing harmlessly past him on both sides.

"How did you do that?" Zuko asked.

"Chi is what powers all bending, but firebenders have a very intimate connection with it. We move it through us, project it away from us. We can even pull it apart, so that its jing crash back together," Iroh gave a partial display of his lesson, and a relatively small spray of lightning flew away from his fingertips over the water, accompanied by a loud bang. Jee leaned out of the still quite damaged helm with a look of alarm, but went back in when he saw it was just the royals. Zuko looked impressed, but Iroh knew it was for the wrong thing. "By sending the chi along special paths, we can make it do things that other people don't expect. Take a stance. Breathe deep. Now, feel that energy flowing down your arms. Like it does when you utilize your bending."

Iroh felt the fire flowing through him. More than even his brother Ozai could claim. There was a time when Iroh could have out-powered Ozai with ease, but he was a different man, then. An angrier man. He could have had that power again, but he didn't consider it worth the consequences. "I think I feel it," Zuko said. Iroh smiled.

"Good. Now let it flow right to your fingertips. Form it into a blade which extends past. Feel the energy flowing out, not being forced out. This isn't bending fire. This is bending the energy already within yourself. If you master this, then nobody on this Earth would be able to send an attack through your blade."

"Not even you?"

"I wouldn't attack you where your defense is strongest. That is your sister's thinking."

Zuko mimed the motion again, then looked back up, "If this stance is so impenetrable, how come everybody isn't using it?"

"Because not everybody knows about it," Iroh said. "Besides, it isn't impenetrable. It protects you from those attacks which are directed by flowing chi. Firebending is unmade, but against water and possibly airbending, it would only give a partial defense; those are not as reliant on moving chi, but instead, on acting with their element's jing."

"What about earthbending?" Zuko asked. Iroh turned and leaned against the rail.

"It offers no protection. None at all," he said sadly. His most shameful memories waited down that path, but it was not his time to walk among them. Instead, he turned back and to his duty to his brother's son. "Earthbending has little to do with chi at all. The bending sets the stone in motion, but what happens after that is nature taking its course. You must adapt and find ways of dealing with these threats as they arise."

"I thought you said I needed to stop improvising. You keep on saying things and then contradicting them. How am I supposed to know what I have to learn?," Zuko asked. He was calming down, in his way. Now, he was merely quite annoyed. If only Iroh could believe the Prince's relatively even temper would sustain even the slightest of hardships.

"You didn't see how extensive practice of the basic forms could ever help you, but with them, you broke Zhao's base and dealt him a stinging defeat," Iroh walked toward the bridge, pausing briefly to lay a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Trust that I have wisdom in this, my nephew. You will be a great firebender, and a Fire Lord worth remembering."

"Without the Avatar, I am nothing."

"Without the Avatar, you are who you are. You are Prince Zuko, born of Ozai and Ursa. You were a voice of morality and sanity in a harsh, unforgiving time. Nobody can take that away from you. Not even your father."

Iroh left Zuko to think on his words and went into the ship proper. There was a lot of damage to this little ship. Over the last few months, it had been battered almost to the point of derelict. But the Fire Nation made the finest ships on the waves, the most resilient, the fastest, and even the most numerous. Even a tiny sloop such as this could weather great hardship. And it had. He paused briefly as he passed his nephew's room. He opened the door briefly and looked inside. The inside of his room was adorned with all of the trappings of home he had been allowed to take. Poor, poor boy. He was so homesick.

Iroh understood the feeling. When he went on his own excursion, he was Zuko's age. A man of fire and anger and passion. He'd walked the Earth for a decade, vanishing into the cultures he came across. He'd had to. If any of them had known he was Azulon's son, they would have clapped him in irons in a heartbeat. Not that it would have stopped him for long. But that journey gave him some great joys, for all its hardship. So he understood Zuko's homesickness. But there was something Iroh knew he couldn't understand: Zuko's desperation. Iroh could have come back any time he wanted. Zuko would forever remain an outcast.

Iroh didn't much like his brother in that moment. As he closed the doors, he thought he saw something odd. He glanced up and down, then headed inside. He moved to the back walls and ran his fingers along the blades of the dao which had adorned the wall since this long voyage began. For some reason, his eye was drawn to them. For some reason, they made him think of blue, and a city of horrors beneath the water. More than that, though, he noticed the blades were sharp. These weren't the ones Zuko had brought aboard. Those were ornamental, antiques. These were weapons. What was the boy planning?

Iroh ducked out of the room, and headed back up into the helm. Jee looked up at him and gave a smirk. "Are we ready to get underway?"

"I've just about fixed the problem. Lightning bolts don't do this ship any favors," Jee said.

"Destiny does this ship few favors," Iroh chuckled.

Jee shrugged. "We'll be back up to full speed in about an hour."
"Good! More than enough time to play a riveting game of Pai Sho," Iroh clapped his hands together and sat himself down at one side of the board. Gi, who was a hard working if gullible fellow, offered himself up as the first opponent. Iroh decided to go easy on him. Hours passed, and even as the ship finally got to speed, Iroh couldn't play badly enough to give Yuan even a fleeting advantage. In the end, his own poor playing doomed him. Zuko finally returned to the cabin.

"Where shall we set our new course, Prince Zuko?" Iroh said from his seat. Zuko leaned against the windows, his eyes low.

"I... I don't know. Has there been any sign of him since that night?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Well, we haven't been able to pick up the Avatar's trail since we lost him in the storm. But, and this is just a hunch of mine, I figure if we continue to the northeast..." Jee said, but was cut off by a groaning of metal and a shrill shriek of a maritime whistle. Outside loomed the hull of a Fire Nation Battleship. They already threw tethering lines toward the smaller ship's deck.

Zuko snarled. "Oh, now what do they want?"

Iroh grinned. "Perhaps a sporting game of Pai Sho?"

It was the third night in a row that Mai waited. She was patient. She had to be. Her parents could be infuriating. She watched as Tong finished putting his somewhat singed hat in a drawer. He never altered his routine. Every noble in the Fire Nation who had something to lose learned the importance of being unpredictable; Tong obviously believed he had nothing worth losing. Then again, looking around this 'city', it was obvious he didn't.

The annexation of Chin was a victory which wasn't. The most ignominious defeat that she had ever had the displeasure of coming across. And the survivors didn't even know exactly what had happened. They were invading, the gates essentially wide open for them. They got the signal to raze the town. And then, they were being cut down, subdued. Routed. Mong Ki was infuriated, but at least he hadn't been captured. He swore revenge against the Avatar. Good for him, she guessed. She didn't give it another thought, though, because she had her own task to perform. Let Mong Ki martyr himself if he really wanted to.

Father wouldn't be happy, but it wasn't his fault, so it didn't matter. The blame would fall on Deng or Hamatsu or Azun, whoever decided that one battalion could take a town and the Avatar at the same time. She didn't care. She had a job. She was a shadow, sliding along the exterior of Tong's residence. The people were too busy rebuilding from their near extermination to pay any attention to her in the day, and too exhausted to look for her at night. With a flicker of the light, she slipped through a window and any chance the locals had of seeing her sneaking about outside vanished.

She was shadow. Being inside confirmed every suspicion she had about Tong. He tried to surround himself with splendor, but obviously he had never seen the likes of real splendor, so his attempts didn't ring true by a long li. It was gaudy and ostentatious without majesty. And it was dark. Her feet didn't make a sound. If there was one thing these locals did well, it was make shoes. She did not regret that purchase. She ghosted through the rooms, making her way to his chamber. He wasn't here, of course. But he would be in a matter of a few minutes. So she waited. In the shadows.

The wooden door swung inward, and a mottled hand held onto it. The instant Tong crossed the threshold, Mai struck. A wide blade slammed into his dangling sleeve just under his wrist. A second hitched his other armpit in place. A third flick of the wrist sent three arrows which roughly framed Tong's head. Mai stepped out of the shadows, even as Tong finally got past the shock and was nearing the point where he would scream.

"Remain silent. I was attempting not to hit you," Mai looked at her work. Not quite as close as she would have liked, but it worked. "And I succeeded. Now. You are Mayor Tong, prefect, magistrate, and steward of the 'city' of Chin, correct?" Tong just stared at her. Mai sighed. "You're allowed to answer my questions."

"Yes. I'm Tong! Why do you...!" Mai cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth and pulling a third dagger. It was far from her last. She scowled.

"Would it kill you to be quiet?" she asked. "You rule here. I was sent to dethrone you."

Tong squeeled against her hand, and she rolled her eyes.

"At least, that was Mother's plan. I think she's just a typical bloodthirsty Azuli. So I am going to offer you a deal. One time offer, pass on it, and you pass onto the next life. Clear?"

Tong nodded vigorously.

"I am going to take my hand away, and then you are going to explain exactly how a full battalion of rhinos was repulsed from the town by one teenage boy. And then... we'll see."

"He wasn't alone!" Tong said the instant her hand was away, but this time, it was quiet enough that it wouldn't leave the hall. "There were others. A Waterbender from the south, a brown-eyed girl, and a teenage boy. They worked together, and they drove the riders out! They even managed to capture a fist-full! Please don't stab me in the eyes!"

Mai pulled back a moment. "This teenage boy. Late teens?"

"Yes."

"Fast on his feet? Dark hair, shaved short but with a pony-tail?"

"Yes."

"Bright eyes?" Mai asked, grasping his lapels and pressing him against the door. Tong squeaked.

"Yes!"

"And he had a scar, didn't he? A scar on his face?" Mai pressed.

"Y-yes?" Tong was quivering. Mai's mind swam. She let him go and turned away.

"Zuko? Oh, Zuko, what are you doing?" she whispered. Then it occurred to her. The only reason he must have helped the Avatar would be to keep the rhino riders from capturing him first. Only that made sense. But why here?

She sat a moment in a chair. Zuko was alive. Everybody had just given up hope about him. Well, her parents had. Ozai obviously had. She looked back up. Hong was stock still. She stood and moved to him. She stared at him, her bright grey eyes empty, her expression grim. "So, he had help. You held up your side, so I will hold up mine. I am not going to kill you." Tong began babbling his thanks, but Mai leaned against the door with one black nailed hand. In a tone as bored as she was, she said, "But you are going to disappear. Tomorrow, people will wake up, and realize that you are gone. They will wonder. And they will never find you. Because I was sent here to dethrone you. One way or the other, I will succeed."

"You can't just expect me to..." Tong complained.

"I don't care what you think I expect. If your body is anywhere near Chin when Agni rises over the horizon, your spirit won't be. So take this opportunity to vanish. The East Continent is a very large place. Take advantage of that," she said. She pulled her knives out of his sleeves, and slipped them back into hers. They were the only things she couldn't easily replace.

"You are Fire Nation?" Tong asked, holding his hands close to his chest.

"Yes."

"You are an assassin?"

"No."

"But..."

"I am Azuli, I am Fire Nation, but I am not my mother. You should be very glad of that. If she were here, you'd not be breathing. When the morning comes, you'll be gone. Clear?"

"Clear."

"Good. Don't follow me, don't sent the guards after me. They won't succeed."

Tong glanced around. "What about the prisoners? Are you going to take them, too?"

"Why? If they were dumb enough to get caught, then they're not worth my time," she said. And then, she was gone. Well, she was out the window and walking down an alley, but she had long ago learned that leaving very quickly was a useful skill. It would be a long walk back to Omashu, but she felt lighter, now. Zuko was alive. Zuko was safe. Zuko was an idiot, but... there was still hope. Weird, how seldom that sort of thinking occurred to Mai.