Book One, Air.
The Waterbending Scroll
"Gahh! Why does fate hate me? It's just one thing after another. First I get burned, then banished, and now I find out I'm the Avatar—and I have to kill my own father before he literally sets the planet on fire! Just great! Monkey feathers!" Zuko curses, fists clenched as he paces along Appa's saddle. His voice cracks under the weight of it all, and he finally drops to his seat with a groan.
"Zuko, will you shut up and sit down?" Sokka snaps, glancing over his shoulder. "If we hit any turbulence, you're going to go flying again."
"You don't get it!" Zuko growls, dragging his hands through his hair. "I have to master all four elements, and I haven't even mastered firebending yet!"
He slumps back, his hands dropping into his lap in defeat.
"Well," Aang says calmly, "you've already made it halfway through learning the 36 forms of airbending—and it's only been two months. At this rate, you'll be ready for airbender tattoos by the time we reach the North Pole."
Zuko bolts upright. "Wait—what?! I'm not getting any tattoos! I'd rather get burned again!"
Sokka glances up from whittling a scrap of wood. "What's the big deal about some ink?"
"They use obsidian knives," Zuko says, wide-eyed. "Dip them in ink, press them to your skin, and hammer the design in."
Sokka shudders at the mental image. "Yeah. Okay. That sounds... terrible."
Aang laughs lightly. "Relax Zuko. Avatars don't usually get tattoos anyway. And that's not how we do it in the Air Temples." Zuko relaxes when he hears this from Aang, albeit slightly. "It's symbolic, earned. It's a symbol of mastery. I got mine when I invented the air scooter."
"Looks like you've got your work cut out for you, Prince Ashbreath," Sokka says with a smirk. "Why don't we land for a bit? You can train, and Katara can even start teaching you the basics of waterbending."
The quartet glances between each other and nod after a brief consensus. Aang pulls gently on Appa's reins, guiding the sky bison into a slow descent toward the tree-carpeted landscape below.
Before long, they find themselves at a hidden waterfall nestled deep within the woods: a quiet valley where crystal-clear water spills into a broad, shallow pool surrounded by mossy stones and thick canopy. "Neat puddle," Sokka says, unimpressed, while Katara stands in quiet awe of the place's serenity. The moment Appa lands, Aang shrugs off his robes and dives into the water with a splash. Zuko sighs and follows, pulling off his shirt and stepping into the shallows with quiet reluctance. Goosebumps light up across his skin as he enters the cold water, instinctively he exhales fire from his mouth in order to keep himself warm. "Right," Sokka mutters. "Just dive in without checking for catfish gators. Genius move." Zuko wades to the sandbar as Katara removes her parka and gets down from Appa. She removes her shoes before wading into the shallows, the water swirls gently around their ankles.
"I don't know how this'll go," Zuko says, arms crossed. "From what the history books back home said, Fireborn Avatars tend to have a hard time with waterbending. It took Avatar Roku six years to master it and it took Avatar Szeto even longer."
Katara nods. "Maybe. But it doesn't hurt to try. You probably burned yourself the first time you firebent, right?" Her optimism rivals Aang's, but there's a softness in her tone that's entirely her own.
"Not myself…" Zuko mutters. "I accidentally burned my father." He doesn't elaborate. Just grimaces. The admission stuns Katara for a heartbeat, but she doesn't press. Instead, she gently shifts the moment forward, offering him an easy on-ramp.
"Well, there you go," she says softly. "We all start somewhere." She gestures toward the river. "Let's begin with the simplest movements: pushing and pulling the water. It took me months to get this right, so don't get frustrated if nothing happens. Especially as a firebender, this'll probably feel… backwards. We're going to try to create small waves, moving them back and forth against the shore."
Katara demonstrates, her hands rocking rhythmically in tandem with her steps. The water obeys, flowing forward and back in gentle pulses, like it's dancing with her. Zuko watches carefully. "That doesn't look too hard. I mean, I did manage to waterbend once… but I was in the Avatar State. I'm not sure that counts." His thoughts escape from his mouth before he inhales slowly, steadying himself. He mirror's her stance, his arms trace the same movements, back and forth. At first, the water quivers, then bubbles begin to rise. Steam hisses from the surface as the water simmers instead of flowing. Zuko scowls. The temperature around him spikes.
"Zuko, deep breaths. Move your whole body with the rhythm of your hands," Katara reminds him gently. He adjusts his stance, shifting his weight in tandem with his arms. Back and forth. Push and pull. Katara watches closely. He's copying the motion, but it's more yank and shove than the gentle ebb and flow she's demonstrating. His aggression throws everything off. Instead of coaxing the water, he's trying to command it. The surface ripples violently, then begins to bubble and hiss with rising steam. "Zuko, calm down," she says again. "You'll never bend it like that. Water isn't about force. It's about feeling. Watch me closely. Then copy." he resets, standing still with her hands lowered. "Start from here. Just gently rock your body, like the tide." Zuko mimics her again. It still feels foreign; wrong in his bones but he forces himself to match her pace, tamping down his frustration. His movements, though stiff, begin to align with hers.
"Good. Now slowly add the arm motions. Extend… then pull back. Gently." She glides her hands through the air. Zuko mirrors her, trying not to muscle his way through it. From the riverbank, Aang and Sokka pause their scrubbing of Appa to watch.
"Let your wrists flow," Katara continues. "That's the secret in waterbending. Your wrist controls the shape, the movement. Let it follow the current." Zuko focuses, extending his arms with a flick of his wrists. This time, the water stirs. A sluggish ripple that bubbles and steams, yes, but it moves.
"Well, would you look at that?" Sokka mocks sarcastically. "You got promoted from glorified campfire starter to also our chef, you can even boil it without fire!" He doesn't get the last word. A gust of wind erupts from Zuko's palm, launching Sokka off Appa and face-first into the river.
"You deserved that one," Katara laughs, stifling a grin.
Dripping wet, Sokka hauls himself back to shore. "It was bad enough when you were firebending and jerkbending. Now you're learning to boil water too? Great." He storms off, wearing most of the river. His shoes making squish and squeak sounds as he trudges off into the distance.
Katara steps forward and wades deeper into the pool, the water rippling softly around her waist. "Alright," she says, looking over her shoulder. "Come here. Into the deeper water."
Zuko hesitates, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"Because you're still thinking like a firebender," she replies. "Water isn't something you push around. You move with it." She beckons for him to follow her. "Trust me. It'll help."
He groans, but obeys, trudging slowly into the water until it rises up to his neck. A cool shiver runs down his spine, but he steadies his breath and stays still. "Close your eyes," Katara says, moving beside him. "Let your body float. I want you to feel the current. Don't fight it. Just let yourself move with it." He does. Gradually, his limbs stop tensing. The water laps at his chest, sliding past his skin with rhythmic pressure, light, but constant. His feet sway slightly, and his arms drift with the motion. "This," Katara says quietly, "is what waterbending feels like. The way you're floating, the way the water moves you… that's how you move it. You don't force it, you guide it. The motion is already there. You just give it direction."
Zuko opens his eyes. "So this is… bending without bending?"
Katara nods. "Exactly. You already know how to move in water. Now you have to learn to move with water."
A long silence passes between them. Then Zuko lifts one arm, just slightly, letting the current brush past his fingers. For a brief moment, the surface bends with him, a faint tide forming around his hand, the water reacting to his subtle guidance instead of his force. It's small. Barely noticeable. But it's a start. He breathes slowly, allowing the water to guide his movements as it swaddles his body. He leans in, pushes his arms out then leans back pulling them towards him. At first he can't tell if the movements are actually doing anything, the waves Katara is making are significantly larger than the one's he's creating. However he continues, making micro adjustments and using trial and error to improve himself. Slowly but surely the wave begins to grow larger and larger. His movements becoming more fluid and natural, he glances up at Katara's wave again only to find that his now matches hers in height. His breath catches in his throat, his eyes wide in surprise and awe. He's done it, he's just bent water for the first time.
"Good," Katara says with a quiet smile, wading toward the riverbank. "Looks like you're getting the hang of it. Now remember those movements, and let's try them on land." Zuko lingers for a moment, shaping a few final tides with his hands, savoring the feeling. Then he follows her out of the river, dripping and breathless, but something in his posture is different now. Lighter.
The grass squelches underfoot as Zuko steps onto the riverbank, droplets clinging to his robes, his hair damp and curling at the edges. Katara doesn't wait, she shifts into a practiced stance, her arms moving in slow, deliberate circles. "Same forms," she says. "Only now, stay grounded. Feel the river, but bend from here." She taps her bare foot against the dirt. "Let the water come to you." Zuko nods, focusing. He lowers into the stance, feet shoulder-width apart, arms relaxed but ready. The river glistens just a few paces away, flowing with a quiet rhythm. He raises his hands, mimicking the same movements from before outward, then back in drawing on memory, breath, instinct. At first, the river doesn't respond. But then just barely the water near the bank begins to ripple. A small current pulls forward, stretching toward him like it's answering a call. He exhales slowly, drawing it closer. The water follows, coiling into a shallow wave that rolls across the stones before returning to the river. He does it again. And again. Each time, the water grows more responsive, less sluggish, more graceful. The surface bends to his motion, rising with his breath and falling with his release. His movements aren't flawless, but they're true.
"Not bad," Katara says, crossing her arms, impressed. "Now let's move on to something a bit more complicated. This move is called Streaming the Water." She steps forward and flicks her wrist. A ribbon of water lifts from the river, winding through the air like a serpent. It slinks around her shoulders, loops around her waist, and coils once before she releases it back with a splash.
"Please don't boil again," he mutters under his breath. He steps forward, copying her stance. At first, everything goes well; the water responds, rising to meet his hand. But when he tries to pull it toward himself, it hesitates. Instead of streaming, the water bulges and begins to churn beneath the surface. A bubble swells. Steam rises. Zuko's expression shifts: jaw clenched, frustration mounting. "Come on…" The water starts to boil. Katara takes a cautious step back, but Zuko doesn't release. He pushes harder, trying to control it, forcing it back down. The moment he does, the bubble bursts with a sharp hiss, sending a spray of scalding hot water outward. The boiling splash hits Katara full-force across her hands and forearms. She screams.
"Katara!" Aang and Sokka yell at the same time, already sprinting from where they'd been watching nearby. Katara stumbles back, clutching her arms to her chest, tears instantly welling in her eyes. Her skin is red and raw, steam still curling off her sleeves. Sokka doesn't hesitate. He tackles Zuko to the ground, fists raised.
"I knew we couldn't trust you! You burned my sister!" he roars. Zuko twists away, rolling onto his back. In a snap reaction, he blasts a surge of air, sending Sokka flying backward into the grass near Appa's feet.
"That wasn't on purpose, you ice-brained idiot!" Zuko shouts, scrambling to his feet. He turns to chase after Katara. "Katara, I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"
But before he can take two steps, Sokka's boomerang whistles through the air and slams into the side of his head, staggering him. He stumbles over, blood begins pouring down from the gash that's opened from the boomerang. His vision blurs from the pain, the blood drips into his eyes.
"Get away from her!" Sokka snarls, already sprinting back. Trying to restrain his anger, Zuko turns sharply and cuts his arm in Sokka's direction. A second blast of wind knocks him off-course, pinning him against Appa's side. Grass flattens under the pressure.
"Agni Damnit, Sokka!" Zuko curses, turning to face his sudden opponent. He thrusts right arm forwards as his other hand reaches up and holds the wound on the side of his head. "I said it was an accident! Wh-what part of that do you not under-fucking-stand?!"
Sokka struggles against the wind, seething. Behind them, Aang has already gone after Katara. She runs until she finds a small outcropping near the base of a rock, where a shallow stream branches off from the main river. She drops to her knees, gasping, her burned hands trembling in the air before she plunges them into the cool water. The pain is sharp. Tears sting her eyes. Then the water begins to glow. A soft, bluish-white light radiates around her hands, faint, ethereal. Almost like the aurora australis that would shine over the south pole. Aang skids to a stop behind her, frozen in awe.
"You… you can heal?" he breathes. Katara blinks, breath catching. She lifts her hands slowly. The burns are gone. Her skin is smooth. Untouched. Whole. She stares, speechless. So does Aang.
"I… guess I can." She says inspecting her hands for any injury or blemish that may have remained. "Oh no." She says looking at Sokka's attempt to hit Zuko with his club. "We need to stop them." Immediately, Aang spins his staff around and creates a massive wave of air blowing Sokka and Zuko away from each other and down to the ground.
Zuko lands hard, skidding across the grass, hand still pressed to the side of his head. The blood is warm and slick between his fingers. He groans, vision still spinning. Sokka slams to the ground on the opposite side, winded but scrambling to his feet again, fists clenched. Zuko however doesn't get up, his breathing ragged and clothes heavily stained in his own blood. "Enough!" Aang yells, planting himself between them. His glider thuds into the dirt beside him. "You're both being stupid!"
Before either boy can speak, Katara storms onto the scene, still soaked, still breathless, her hands glowing faintly with that same soft light. Her face is red not from pain now, but from pure fury. She marches straight past Sokka without looking at him. Zuko weakly looks up at her as she kneels beside him, still clutching his temple, blood seeping between his fingers. But she reaches out, gently, and lowers his hand.
"Hold still," she mutters. Her hands hover over the wound, water cupping between her palms, glowing with that same ghostly hue. Zuko watches her, unsure if he should feel relieved or terrified. "You're lucky, you're almost as hard headed as Sokka" she murmurs. "This could've cracked your skull." The light pulses. The bleeding slows. The gash closes under her touch, leaving only a faint smear of blood on his temple. Then she stands and whirls on her brother.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she screams, even startling Aang. "He said it was an accident, Sokka! You've used that thing to kill big game! You could've killed him!"
"He burned you!" Sokka snaps. "I wasn't just gonna stand there and—"
"He didn't burn me, he boiled the water by mistake and lost control of it! You even watched him boil it when he tried to bend it! You've been itching for an excuse to fight him since we left home!" Katara cuts him off, continuing to shout at him. "And I'm fine by the way. Thanks for asking." Her sarcasm cuts almost as deep as his sword.
"You screamed." Sokka's voice breaks. "I thought—"
"I can take care of myself!" she snaps. "But what did you do? You hit him in the head with your boomerang. You almost split it open like a watermelon!"
Zuko winces from the ground. "Thanks," he mutters.
"Not helping," she shoots back, but her tone is gentler.
Sokka throws his arms up. "So I'm the bad guy now?! Because I was trying to protect you?!"
"No," Katara growls, stepping forward, "You're the idiot who went straight for violence instead of listening. Just once. Just for ten seconds." She jabs her finger into his chest, hard, forcing him to stumble a step back. "What would've happened if you did kill him, huh? You could've ended the world right then and there because you didn't fucking think!"
Sokka looks like he wants to argue. Then his shoulders drop. "...I was scared," he mutters. "I thought…he looked so angry. And you wer- you screamed."He stammers, he tries to find the right words to justify what happened but fails.
Katara takes a deep breath allowing her anger to soften. Just a little. She walks past him, brushing his shoulder without a word, and heads back to Zuko. "I'm sorry," she says, kneeling beside him again. "That never should've happened."
Zuko blinks at her. "I-I lost control. I didn't mean to—"
"I know," she says quietly. "I felt it. The water. It didn't want to listen to you. Not yet."
He lowers his head. "That's not really comforting."
"No," she agrees. "But it means you're bending with your emotions. Like I used to. And that… that can be unlearned."
He looks up at her. "You're not scared of me?"
She scoffs softly. "Zuko, I just healed my own burns and your busted head. I think I've earned the right to yell at my brother and not be scared of the guy who boiled a puddle."
Zuko snorts, then winces at the pain throbbing just above his temple. "Okay. That's fair." He slowly gets to his feet, Katara steadying him as he sways slightly. Sokka stands a few paces away, arms crossed, still brooding but clearly deflated. Zuko takes a step toward him. Sokka stiffens. Katara opens her mouth to intervene, but it's too late. Zuko draws back and punches him, right in the stomach. Sokka lets out a strangled oof and doubles over. "That's for cutting my head open," Zuko grits out through his teeth, "asshole."
SMACK.
Katara's hand cracks across the back of his head with perfect accuracy. "Zuko!" He stumbles forward from the impact, flinching with a hiss.
"What?! That was tame! And he deserved it!" He protests, holding the goose egg lump that's now swelling up on the back of his head.
"I just fixed your skull, you moron!" Katara shouts, grabbing his sleeve. "Do you want me to break your nose instead?"
Zuko rubs the back of his head, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like "worth it."
"Okay… we're even. Just… never do that again." Sokka, still wheezing, lifts a hand in surrender.
Katara glares between them, then turns toward the river, and groans. "And the cherry on top of this entire cavalcade of stupidity?" She raises a hand to her brow, squinting downstream. "All our supplies just got blown off Appa and are halfway to the ocean." Sure enough, a bundle of food and gear is lazily floating away down the river. She throws her arms up. "Why… why do I have to be the team mom to two testosterone-drunk seventeen-year-old dumbasses, and a one-hundred-twelve-year-old preteen airbender who's too sweet for his own good?!"
Aang raises a sheepish hand from a distance. "Can I try to catch them?"
Katara doesn't even look back. "Do not airbend them, I swear to the ocean and moon I will—"
Zuko cuts her off, "Should we go to that village we passed?"
"Yes," Katara growls.
The trip on Appa is short, barely a few minutes in the air before they reach the outskirts of a bustling trading town. The port city, clearly a hub of commerce, is alive with movement. Docks stretch along the riverbank, crowded with boats bearing flags and goods from all over the Earth Kingdom, and even a few from islands near the Southern Water Tribe. "Well, we've got a few silver pieces and about a hundred copper, thanks to what King Bumi gave us in Omashu," Zuko says, pulling open the coin pouch and inspecting the contents. "So we'll need to use it sparingly." He divides the coin: a handful of coppers to Aang, a mix of silver and copper to Katara and Sokka, and keeps the rest for himself. "We need new bags for clothes, food, and water," he continues. "Also some tent material, and if we can find any platypus bear or dog-deer pelts, they'll make good blankets." He gives the group their assignments. "Aang, you're on fruits and salt, so we can cure whatever we hunt. Katara, Sokka, see if you can find anything to replace the sacks and bedrolls we lost in our little… skirmish. I'll check the market for more supplies and see if anything that floated off the river ended up here."
"What about the leftover coins?" Aang asks, bouncing his pouch in one hand.
Zuko sighs, knowing that Aang can't resist buying something they don't need. "Keep personal spending to five copper tops. You've got fifty. Fruit shouldn't be that expensive." With a nod, Aang vanishes into the bazaar.
Zuko meanders through the marketplace, moving from stall to stall. Most of the essentials, pouches, canvas, and tent ties, are cheap. Two, maybe three coppers each. He picks up what they need and, by sheer luck, even finds a few of their old supplies: a soaked bedroll tangled with leaves, the edge of their tarp drying in the sun. Then, near the edge of the square, he sees a crowd gathering around a boisterous peddler. In the man's hands: a familiar, soggy leather sack. One of Sokka's. "Who's brave enough to guess what's in this little mystery bag?" the merchant shouts, shaking it for effect. "Get it right, and the bag's yours!"
Zuko steps forward through the crowd, raising his voice. "I'll take a guess." He raises his hand so it's easier for him to be seen. The man grins. "Confident, huh? Go ahead." Zuko crosses his arms, smirking. "It's full of what used to be dried meat, two sharpening stones, some whittled wood that's probably falling apart by now, and a whole lot of river water." The peddler opens the flap. Everything Zuko listed is inside. Exactly.
"How did—?"
"Our boat flipped upstream," Zuko says coolly. "The bag floated off. That's ours."
The man eyes him, then the bag, then the crowd. He scratches his chin, debating, then sighs and hands it over. "You're lucky I don't charge you for entertainment," he mutters, tossing in a second item, a soggy bedroll, and Zuko's old Fire Nation tunic, wrinkled and dripping. Zuko doesn't thank the man for returning their stuff, he just walks away.
He returns to the square where Aang, Katara, and Sokka are already waiting. "Well," Zuko says, holding up the dripping mess, "I found our stuff. But... it's very wet." Water drips steadily from the tarp.
"Great," Katara sighs, shaking her head. "Well, while you and Aang dry that mess out, we'll set up with the new gear we bought. What did you find, Aang?"
"A bag of nuts, some mangos, papayas, dragonfruit, and salts for the meat you guys eat," Aang lists, holding up his haul. "Oh! and some tea for Zuko to make. And a bison whistle!" He pulls out the tiny bone whistle and blows into it, but no one hears a thing. Well, everyone except Momo, who hisses and immediately dives into Katara's hood, ears flattened.
"Nice, Aang," Sokka says dryly as they start walking toward the docks. "You bought a whistle that doesn't work."
"I like it," Aang mutters, slipping it into his belt. "It's not for you anyway." He replies as they weave through the crowd, headed toward the rows of merchant ships moored at the port.
"I kinda wanna see what else they've got on these ships," Sokka says. "How much money do you guys have left?"
"I've still got four silver and about fifteen copper," Zuko replies, glancing at his coin pouch. "Pretty sure Aang spent all of his."
"I've got two coppers left!" Aang says cheerfully. "Oh, and Katara, could you freeze the fruit for me so it'll last longer?"
Katara nods and pulls a waterskin from her belt. "Good idea."
"You'll probably need to refreeze them later," Aang adds. "They'll melt eventually."
Zuko looks over. "That's actually really smart. Where'd you pick that up?"
"The monks used to do it at the Southern Air Temple," Aang says. "There was always snow at the high elevation, so they'd store fruit cakes and tarts in it."
As they pass another docked ship, a shirtless man with a wispy beard stands out front, gesturing wildly. "Earth Nation! Fire Nation! Water Nation! Any nation is welcome here!" he announces. "We've got wares from all over the world! Don't be shy, come on by!" The scrappy looking man barks to the crowd, as the quartet passes by the man spot's Aang's tattoos and points him out "Hey You! Yes, you, sky-boy! You've traveled far, haven't you? Interested in some exotic curios?"
Aang tilts his head. "Uh… what's a curio?"
The man pauses, shrugs. "I don't know. But we've got 'em. Come have a look!"
The group exchanges a glance before following the merchant aboard the ship. Inside the trader vessel's hold, the air is thick with spices and salt. The shelves are cluttered with strange and foreign objects—ornate masks, gilded trinkets, dyed fabrics, and glittering stones. Katara is immediately drawn to a small statue of a monkey, its eyes set with rubies and a necklace of crimson gems around its neck. She stares, enchanted. Sokka meanders to the weapons section, running his hand over unfamiliar blades and boomerangs. Then he spots something. "Pssst. Zuko," he calls, waving him over. Zuko tears his eyes from the same monkey statue and joins him. "Since you're the Avatar," Sokka says, lowering his voice, "the Fire Nation's gonna be after you. Constantly. Maybe you should pick up a sword or two. That way you're not relying on bending every time someone picks a fight."
Zuko raises an eyebrow. "Nice idea, except I think you're forgetting something: I'm the crown prince. Everyone and their grandmother knows what I look like."
"True," Sokka admits. "But maybe it's less about hiding and more about… style?"
Zuko snorts. "I do know how to use dual swords. Let me know if you see a decent pair."
"That's what I was gonna show you," Sokka grins. "Check these out, Earth Kingdom make, but the tails are shaped like Fire Nation blades. Pretty cool fusion." Zuko lifts the swords, testing their balance. They're well-forged, Earth Kingdom craftsmanship with subtle Fire Nation influence in the hilt designs.
"They're not bad," he mutters. "But swords like this aren't cheap. To these people, they're probably worth their weight in gold."
Before he can decide, Katara rushes over and grabs his sleeve. "Zuko! Come here. Aang and I found a waterbending scroll." She pulls him toward the back of the shop, holding up a parchment adorned with painted forms. Zuko instantly recognizes some of the beginner-level movements.
"Aang's trying to barter for it," she says, voice low. "But the captain wants two hundred gold pieces."
Zuko peers past her. At the rear of the ship, Aang is mid-negotiation with a barrel-chested man wearing a wide, feathered hat. A particularly ugly iguana-parrot perches on his shoulder, glaring at everyone in turn.
"You drive a hard bargain," Aang says with a grin. "How about… one copper piece?"
The captain erupts in laughter, a deep, wheezing belly laugh that makes the parrot squawk. "Sorry, kid. Price is two hundred gold. If you can't pay, scram. I've already got another buyer in the Earth Kingdom."
Aang doesn't flinch. "Okay, okay… how about two copper pieces?"
He flicks his wrist dramatically, revealing the second coin between his fingers like a magician.
"It's less funny the second time." The captain groans.
Zuko steps forward. "Hold on, Aang. Let me." The pirate eyes him warily as Zuko approaches the desk. "Do you have any official parchment?" The captain grunts, then reaches under the counter and pulls out an inkwell, a feather quill, and a blank sheet. Zuko dips the pen, writing swiftly and cleanly. He clears his throat and tries to sound as authoritative as possible.
"I'm Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. And the Avatar," he says flatly. "Which means I have unfiltered access to the royal coffers. When we issue large payments to generals, admirals, and merchants, we don't carry gold, we use letters of credit. This one is for two hundred and fifty gold pieces. It covers the scroll and the swords." He finishes writing, then he drips a bit of wax from a nearby red candle onto the page and stamps it with his signet ring before handing it over. "Present this to the next Fire Nation ship that docks here. They'll verify the seal and pay you what it's worth."
The pirate captain grins wide, rubbing his hands together. "Now that's how you do business. Pleasure doing business with you, your highness." He gently waves the parchment to dry the ink and gives a small bow as they exit the ship. "Do come back!" he calls after them, the iguana-parrot squawking, "Do come back! Do come back!"
As they head back toward Appa, Sokka elbows Zuko. "Hey. That was actually a great idea. How come you've never done that before?"
"Because most of the Earth Kingdom would burn a Fire Nation letter of credit before bothering to read it." Zuko says with a chuckle.
"...Yeah, fair." Aang replies after realizing Zuko's probably right.
They reach Appa and begin loading their supplies. "Well," Sokka says, stretching. "New gear, fresh food, and you and Katara have a magic scroll that helps you play with water. All is good." Zuko flicks the reins, and Appa lifts into the air with a contented bellow.
A Short While Later.
A large Fire Nation vessel glides into the harbor, its hull gleaming with fresh lacquer and black iron. Sailors bark orders from the deck as dockworkers rush to secure ropes and chains, hauling the massive warship into place. With a heavy thunk, the gangplank slides down onto the dock. At the top stands Commander Zhao, cloak whipping in the sea wind, eyes fixed on the town below. He descends with purpose. Waiting at the foot of the ramp is a group of pirates, led by a tall, slightly chubby man with a twisted mustache and an iguana-parrot perched on his shoulder. The pirate captain says nothing, just holds out a rolled parchment.
Zhao takes it, brows furrowing as he scans the elegant Fire Nation script. He listens in silence as the pirate explains. "So... Prince Zuko wrote this?" Zhao mutters. "And what exactly did he purchase?"
"A waterbending scroll," the captain replies. "And a pair of dual swords. Claimed to have full access to the royal treasury."
Zhao's lip curls. "Learning waterbending, is he?" He rolls the scroll between his fingers, eyes narrowing. 'Third element... That could be a problem.' He ponders, scratching his mutton chops for a moment. Then, slowly, a grin spreads across his face. "But it could also be an opportunity." He snaps the scroll shut and hands it back.
"I'm afraid this letter is null and void. Prince Zuko has been banished by the Fire Nation. Now he's officially branded a traitor, for attacking a military prison… and striking a superior officer."
The pirate captain's eyes widen. "Then the brats stole from us?!" He hurls the scroll to the dock and stomps on it, furious.
"Fret not, Captain," Zhao says smoothly, extending his hand. "Help me capture the Avatar and his traitorous allies, and I'll make sure your wares are returned. With interest."
The two men shake hands.
Behind them, the iguana-parrot cackles.
"Traaaaitorsss!"