A/N: Zuko was exiled from the Fire Nation because he protested against a plan that involved sending a bunch of new, unskilled soldiers to fight a very dangerous and skilled enemy, knowing that they would not be able to and they would all die.

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Brief flashes. A war. The battlefield was lit by fire, flashing like lightning. Nobody was there; it was a battlefield of ghosts. Fire flashed like lightning. Suddenly, the earth began to quake, rising up, splitting. A new volcano was being born. It dripped lava everywhere. The air turned into the ocean, and all the warring ghosts were drowning…

Zuko watched this happen with great sadness. It wasn't supposed to happen. He saw the ghosts as they drowned, and knew he had failed. He looked up, hoping for some consolation from the stars. At the peak of the new volcano, twin stars shone in the darkness. Zuko was not the only watcher here. He lowered his gaze away from those glowing eyes. One of the drowned warring ghosts appeared before him.

It looked just like himself, only with its hair tied in the royal way and face unscarred, as if it had never been cast out. Zuko recognized it as his long-lost honor. He hadn't realized it was dead. If the scorch marks on its chest meant anything...he'd killed it.

Zuko turned to call somebody to prepare a burial, but there was nobody there to call. He looked back up the volcano. The watcher was still there. So Zuko picked up the remains of his honor and placed them on the volcano, delicately. He turned away so the watcher could do what it wanted unwatched.

When he turned back, the ghost was gone, and so was the watcher. A firefly sat on the rock where he had laid the ghost, flashing silently. A beacon.

Zuko was about to chase after it, but then the dream ended. He raised his arm, but felt leather brush his fingers instead of rock. His whole vision filled with light, obscuring the firefly. Zuko squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them slowly. He was lying in the saddle with a blanket wrapped around him, semi-upright with his head hanging back over the edge. The light was the sun. He closed his eyes again and turned away from it, groaning.

He smacked his tongue, tried to moisten his dried mouth. How long had he slept? He took another look up at the sun, and saw it high in the sky, tending toward the west. It was midday or early afternoon. Zuko supposed he shouldn't be surprised at how rested he was, then. The nightmare now felt oddly peaceful.

A familiar sipping sound helped him finish waking up. Zuko leaped off the saddle and joined his uncle next to a small fire. They were on a sandy beach. Waves crashed onto the shore maybe a dozen feet away: the water spirit, rolling back and forth in that endless grinding way it had. Zuko carefully avoided wondering why it bothered when it could reshape coastlines in seconds. He didn't want to give it any ideas.

The bison's breath warmed his scalp. It curled around the fire with the humans in its shadow. Its heavy-lidded eyes drooped about as much as they had before. What does the Avatar see in this giant lump? Momo was more his type, but the lemur was nowhere to be seen. Where were the Avatar and his friends?

Zuko shook his head and thought about his restful dream. The memories of it were fading fast, but one image was still within his reach: eyes like stars, high on a hillside. The watcher was always patient. If Zuko meant to hold onto the peacefulness of his dream, he should be patient too. That was why he returned to the here and now, where he was sitting on damp sand across a small fire from his uncle, who was sipping freshly brewed tea. There was another cup included in the tea set. Zuko took it and poured himself some tea. They sipped their tea in silence. After about a minute of this, Zuko realized that the silence was not real silence. The waves crashed and the fire crackled. He had forgotten about those sounds because they were constant background noise. Just like the water and fire spirits are always in the background of my life.

His mood soured instantly. He didn't want to listen to the crackling of the fire anymore, nor the crash of the waves. He wanted to think about a future where those things would be gone and he would have peace for once. Wait...both those things? Absolutely. The fire spirit's turned traitor too. Why shouldn't I get rid of it as well? The fire's crackling turned menacing. It didn't look or sound very different, but the mild heat it had been in Zuko's belly turned harder and hotter, like a hot ember. Zuko drank the last of his tea very, very carefully. The fire spirit was worse than the water spirit in some ways. The water spirit could be insulted all day long and still sit there doing nothing; trading waves for insults was out of character and not something it had ever done before. But the fire spirit would always react.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"A very special beach." Iroh peered to his left, around the bison's head. There, stranded in the sand, was a boat. It didn't look like any boat Zuko had ever seen before. He had to investigate.

The bow of it felt and looked like carved bone, and the rest of it seemed to be made of waterproof skins stretched between and over supporting structures that might also have been bone. The sails were blue. It was a Water Tribe boat. "What is a Water Tribe boat doing out here?" he asked Iroh. "I thought -" Wait, no. He turned back. Hides and bone? It looked more like what he'd seen when he had first, briefly, captured the Avatar at the Southern Water Tribe. "Wait. This is a Southern Water Tribe boat. What is it doing this far north?"

Iroh came to stand by his side. "The Avatar's two friends were overjoyed to see it. Their father sailed out with a fleet of boats like this some years ago to aid the Earth Kingdom in the war."

Zuko ran a hand down the sleek side of the hull. Now that he took another look at it, it didn't seem to be stranded like he had first thought. The sails were bound up like they might have been after exposure to wind, but they weren't tattered at all. The rudder was intact. The boat had probably been left here on purpose. "Is the owner of this boat around?" he asked.

"I don't know. They are exploring the area looking for signs of people right now."

Zuko took his hand back. "If they are, do you think I would be allowed to...talk with them? The people of the Southern Water Tribe might know about water spirits."

Iroh stroked his beard. "I think you should be patient, Zuko. If they find another member of their tribe, the Avatar's friends will no doubt want to have a happy reunion, a warm meal, perhaps reminisce about home. They won't want you in the middle of that. You'll have to wait."

Zuko's stomach complained. A warm meal… He turned to see Iroh already heading back to the fire. His heart rate quickened. The fire spirit still felt angry. It had burned him; what would stop it from burning Uncle? Nothing. Zuko needed a distraction, and fast!

"Did anything interesting happen while I was asleep?" he asked. He tried not to sound desperate or hurried. Uncle didn't treat him like a fire hazard because of the fire spirit's existence, and Zuko wouldn't be able to stand it if that changed.

Iroh nodded. "I think so."

"What is it?"

"I realized that you are like a beautiful landscape," Iroh said.

What. Iroh couldn't have invented a better distraction if he'd tried. Zuko tried not to blink stupidly, even though that was the only thing he could think of doing. "What?"

Iroh finished setting up the spit and got out a fish. Freshly-caught, from the look of it. "A beautiful landscape, Nephew. With your own rules, climate, patterns… Only fools discount the land they travel over. It's a compliment."

"Thanks?" Zuko tried to imagine what sort of landscape he would be if he was one. What was Iroh actually saying about him? "But you're wrong, Uncle. Unless by 'beautiful,' you mean volcanic." He did not know why, but the idea of volcanic activity sounded right. Of course it does. I'm a firebender. Iroh could think whatever he wanted, but Zuko was sure he had a straightforward type of landscape. If he had one at all. Why was he even thinking about this silly scenario? He wouldn't have chosen to if he hadn't needed a distraction.

The fish was well underway, and Iroh was no longer leaning close to it. The danger was passed. There was no need to distract the fire spirit with silly ideas any longer. "Anything else?"

Iroh's eyes widened. "Yes, there is something else. The nonbender boy would like to hear more about my days as a general, so that he can learn strategy and leadership."

Zuko did not immediately scoff. He seriously considered what Sokka might or might not be capable of. And dismissed him; what did a general's skills have to do with the Avatar's quest? Overthrowing the Firelord and ruining everything wasn't going to be done by an army; it was going to be done by the Avatar, alone. "That's fine, Uncle." It wasn't treason to help with things that had nothing to do with the war. Even if Sokka was clever enough to be a strong opponent one day, the war wasn't going to last that long. He was no threat.

"Thank you, Nephew." Iroh said that in a sad way, and suddenly Zuko realized how selfish he was being. Iroh had no son anymore. Zuko was the only relative available to pass on wisdom to, but he had always been too busy to bother sitting around listening to elders like a little kid. Wanting to tell stories to Sokka had nothing to do with the war.

Zuko's ears burned. How had he never realized? More importantly, he wasn't about to let a Water Tribe nonbender, of all people, look like a more loyal family member than him! "I'd have to know what you're telling him to make sure," he added. I have all the time in the world to listen to stories now. I can do it!

"Of course!" Iroh's smile was much brighter this time. Zuko's conscience eased. I'm sorry, Uncle.

With the full support of his conscience and a cooked fish to eat, Zuko forged ahead. "What are you planning on telling him first?" He served himself fish while Iroh collected his thoughts.

"As long as we're on the subject of landscapes…" Iroh began to tell the story of a time when he had learned the value of paying attention to the land. He had only been a regular soldier then, hadn't even married yet. Zuko found that impossible to imagine. No matter how he tried, he couldn't picture Iroh as a teenager, as his own age. Yet, as Iroh told the story of how he'd been too stubborn and impatient to waste time asking locals for advice on navigating a mountain pass during a thunderstorm, Zuko could imagine himself doing the same. He could imagine himself leading the way along the straightest path he could spot on the map, only to discover a steep uphill slope rendered unclimbable by rain and mud. He could imagine himself leading the way back to their lodgings, all chance of pursuit lost, sopping wet and shamefaced. He could imagine the spike of guilt spiced with fear upon learning the next day that a small landslide had covered the path during the storm, so if he had tried to climb that unclimbable slope he might have delayed long enough to trap himself and the men who trusted him on a steep and dangerous pass with no way out.

Something about this scenario seemed familiar, as if it had happened to Zuko personally. When Iroh finished, Zuko muttered, "I might have had a dream like that."

"You did?" Iroh looked pleased.

"Just now," Zuko murmured, gesturing towards the bison. The bison sat silently, probably listening to them. Maybe the Avatar liked the bison as much as he did because he could tell it stories. "There was...water, and people fighting, and I wasn't one of them. I was watching, as if I was in charge. And they drowned. I don't remember where the water came from, but I felt like it was my fault."

"My condolences," Iroh said.

Zuko shook his head. "No. It was just a dream. Those people you talked about could have died. Thank you for telling me, Uncle." When he was leading people, there were two things he was never going to do. He was never going to use fresh soldiers as disposable meat, and he was never going to ignore natural hazards.

Iroh wiped his eyes with a sleeve before turning to pack up the tea set. Zuko felt oddly good again, like he had when Aunt Wu smiled at him. Being nice to older people was very rewarding. At least, being nice to older people who deserved it was. He could think of a lot of busybodies at court that didn't meet that standard. Only Iroh and some of the old people he had met in the Earth Kingdom did. Maybe the Earth Kingdom wasn't such a bad place after all.

Iroh sat peacefully while Zuko finished eating. When he put his fishbone to the side, Iroh asked, "Do you have any stories to tell, Nephew?"

"No." The answer came easily, naturally, as if it was obvious. It was obvious. Zuko never had any stories to tell. If there was one thing he had learned from his 16 years of life, it was that speaking up is stupid. Even speaking his mind about things that were important to the Fire Nation had gotten him exiled. Things that weren't important, like spirits and dreams and children's games, just couldn't be talked about. Could not. There was no possible thing to say about them, no response he could possibly get other than blank stares and shame. Until he was old and experienced enough to have important real-world stories like Uncle's, he would not have any stories.

"I don't believe that," Iroh murmured. He did not push the matter further. Instead, he took a deep breath and sighed pleasantly.

Great. Now we just wait for them to come back? Zuko was not good at waiting. And unfortunately for the three of them, there was only one thing he could think of doing to pass the time.

Against his will, he was forced to think about the two elemental spirits that had driven him here. The fire spirit and the water spirit. One a fast-moving burning trouble-making unruly spark of a spirit, and the other a crushing, squeezing, scouring devious plotting mastermind of a spirit. Both had been with him since birth, and both were able to hear his thoughts and see through his eyes. They knew everything, and still he did not matter to them.

Zuko threw his fishbone into the fire. Maybe it would explode like the bone at Aunt Wu's place had. Maybe he could try his hand at fortunetelling, since it was all guesswork anyway.

The fishbone did not explode, but it did crack. Its head cracked badly, almost splitting the jaw off. A couple ribs fell off. What was left of the tail went up in flames and turned to ash. But the spine remained uncracked, staying white and intact even as everything else around it succumbed to the heat.

Zuko felt qualified to interpret this one. He smiled. I don't give up. No matter how bad things get, I keep going. I am strong. He might have a lot to work on, but he was sure that something unconquerable was at his core. It was nice to see the fishbone confirm that. Wow. I know it's complete guesswork, but it's still reassuring. How does that work?

However it worked, he was glad. The spirits knew him inside and out, and still he did not matter. He would need every bit of strength and belief in himself to make it past them. He still was in disbelief that the fire spirit had actually betrayed him. It was fire. It had no goal, no purpose. It didn't even burn him purposefully, only accidentally when it moved too fast or darted out at him for a cheap scare. It didn't really do anything that a regular firebender couldn't, except explode. Honestly, Zuko had never understood why it existed. It was just there. But it was fire, and he was prince of the Fire Nation, so it seemed to belong. It could be a useful symbol if nothing else.

And now it was betraying him and the Fire Nation. For what reason exactly? It didn't belong anywhere else. It didn't have goals to further. It didn't even have a reason to exist except as a symbol of the Fire Nation. It was just there. Was it going to just be there somewhere else? Why? What was the point? The water spirit wanting to manipulate him like a toy at least made sense. But the fire spirit was really starting to seem like a spirit of hurt and pain whose only desire was to make his life worse. What are you? What is wrong with you? I tried to give you a place and a reason to exist, and you throw that back at me? I just can't believe you.

I can't believe I literally have a spirit following me whose only purpose is to hurt me. Thanks, universe. As if I didn't have enough to push past already.

Fortunately, neither spirit reacted. The spine of the fishbone remained intact, although the connective tissues holding it together burned up and left it as a series of separated vertebrae. The waves continued to pound the sand. Iroh watched a flock of seabirds run back and forth as the waves retreated and advanced, and Zuko continued to think morose thoughts. Briefly he wished for something to happen that he could react to, something to free him from himself.

That wish was granted when there was a commotion. The nonbender boy burst out of the bushes, followed by his sister and the Avatar. He came to a stop in the wet sand. "Darn! The trail just leads back here."

Zuko stood up and groaned inwardly. "So this stop was a complete waste of time?"

The three of them looked at him. He saw them change before his very eyes. The hope left their eyes. Tension grew. They all seemed less sure of themselves. Previously, the Avatar and his friends had looked like ordinary kids disappointed at the end of their adventure. Before his very eyes, Zuko saw them change into defenders, young fighters readying to be attacked. He knew he was doing the same. He remembered the hard, sharp stone falling at his feet, the little shadow that ran away as soon as he began to speak. The kind of rock you'd pick up if you really meant to hurt someone. Although the rock hadn't hit him, the memory of it hurt. Memories didn't miss.

There was a creaking sound. They all looked up at the boat. The boat tilted, shuddering, as the ocean lifted it out of its berth in the sand. Not by much; the boat soon lowered again, coming to rest. A warning. Maybe the water spirit wants us to move on?

"Maybe it's old," Sokka said sadly. "Old enough for the sand to be washed away is old enough for whoever it belonged to to be gone."

"No." Katara shook her head. "I won't believe that. Dad would never leave a boat behind, and neither would any of his men. Don't lose hope, Sokka."

Sokka straightened. "You're right! I'm sorry. I was just so excited when we saw the boat, but now we've been searching for hours and haven't seen anyone. You're right; maybe it was just landed badly, like in an emergency."

"I'm sure that's it, Sokka!" The Avatar put on a bright, big smile. "If we take Appa around, we'll find them in no time!"

The water spirit's starting to move. We need to go! But maybe Southern Water Tribe people could tell me about the water spirit… "If you're going to keep looking, let's hurry," Zuko said. "And search inland. I'm not happy about being right next to the sea."

Sokka looked around to make absolutely sure he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. Katara looked just as stunned, and Aang dared to smile. Apparently he had. "Uh, yeah. No point taking a risk when we don't have to." He shrugged at his two companions. Whatever was going on, they'd better take advantage of it while it lasted.

Iroh disassembled the spit and put away the tea set, and they all took to the air with not a hint of tension or discord. It was very strange. Even Zuko felt weird, and he knew why he was cooperating with their plans for once. It feels like we should be arguing. Shouldn't we? He is the Avatar after all, my sworn enemy. But I need to travel with them and not get kicked off the bison… He realized that he'd always on some level assumed that his forced cooperation would be unpleasant and just barely on the right side of not getting him stranded in the Earth Kingdom. He had never thought about possibly enjoying his travel time. That's because I shouldn't! Sitting around playing games and making friends is stupid and immoral. But it felt kind of good and it made everything so much smoother…

The Avatar pointed in a direction he hadn't checked from his glider, and they flew that way. Iroh pointed out a grayish line in the trees. The gray line turned out to be an abbey, one so secluded that it was next to impossible to see until they were above it. They landed outside the entrance and walked up the path toward the gate. All of this took about 20 minutes. At the end of those 20 minutes, as they walked up to the abbey, Zuko faced an odd conclusion. He wanted the situation with the Avatar and his friends to be tense and unpleasant, and he seemed to want that because it would be easier. I guess that makes sense. Getting along nicely with him is dangerous. It would be too easy to cross the line into doing something traitorous. I would always be checking myself, always worrying. I can't let Zhao be right! But the perks of not constantly fighting were very attractive. Was it possible to not fight and not be friendly either? A third option that wasn't too dangerous?

He would try to remember to think about it later. Right now, they were walking into an abbey full of kindly nuns, on a search for someone who might possibly have answers about the water spirit. That was more important than anything else.