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Chapter Text

Rain fell heavily on the Fire Nation Capital. Its pattering followed Aang as he made his way through the palace, an attendant guiding his way. Appa hated the rainy season, and they tended to stick to more temperate climates, then.

The attendant opened the door to the Fire Lord's private study. A tray of sweets had already been placed on the table at the centre of the room. Yet, its owner had not made an appearance. Aang's eyes wandered as he took a seat. Trinkets of all nations covered the walls, a few having been gifts from Aang himself. The mismatched items had a certain charm, and clashed with the austerity that reeked in other parts of the palace. Aang's foot knocked nervously on the floor. Being invited to this room usually put Aang’s mind at ease, but now, he could only hear the sound of blood and rain rushing through his ears.

The Avatar’s eyes finally landed on a portrait standing on the Fire Lord's desk, on the other side of the room. He'd never seen it before. The Avatar squinted. It was yellowed with age and crinkled from the many times it had been rolled and folded over. The picture showed a young child painted in simple brushstrokes and soft colours. Aang's first thought went to a young Azula. But no, this child's face seemed much thinner than the Fire Nation princess's had ever been, and their eyes were lighter, only a shade darker than the parchment. Aang averted his eyes. Zuko.

A door opened to Aang's left as the Fire Lord finally made an appearance, a tea tray balanced in his hands. Aang stood and bowed.

"Sifu Iroh."

Iroh beamed as he gently put down the tray onto the table. He pulled his pupil into an embrace. Aang bent slightly so that Iroh's arm could reach around his shoulder.

"Avatar Aang! It is always an honour to see you." Iroh motioned to the table. "Come now, you must try this new tea I have acquired!"

He poured Aang a cup, and then served one for himself. "It is simple green tea blended with roasted brown rice kernels. A warming tea for dreary weather!" Iroh's eyes twinkled as he continued. "It is quite popular among the people of the Dangun province. I hear it is making quite a stir in Ba Sing Se!"

Aang politely took a sip of the tea. He could barely register the taste on his tongue as he complimented Iroh on his brew. Under his cheer, his teacher seemed drained and weary, more so than usual. His face seemed somewhat thinner, though his ample robes hid the rest of his body. His hair had grown whiter since they had last seen each other. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Iroh's expression grew serious as he gently laid his cup down. Aang shifted nervously at the sudden change.

"Though I am delighted that you are visiting your old master, I fear that you would not have called by so abruptly if you had not needed my full attention."

Aang bit his lip, deciding on where to start. Somehow, the continuous patter of rain outside helped to settle his turbulent thoughts.

"A few weeks ago, I started to look into visions of the Kemurikage in the inner islands," Aang started.

Iroh nodded encouragingly.

"Well, we know now that it was all part of Azula's latest scheme. But it wasn't clear at the time whether the spirits were involved." Aang's eyes shifted to the teapot. "I tried to find out more by crossing into the spirit world."

Aang paused to glance at Iroh. His hand was stroking his beard, pensively. Outside, thunder boomed.

"There, I kind of crossed a spirit and got trapped in the Fog of Lost Souls."

Iroh's breath hitched, but he said nothing, leaving Aang ample space to continue with his story.

"I saw many things." Aang worried at his bottom lip. "I saw many people. One of them was Zuko. He looked so real."

Aang looked away, and stared intently into the cup of tea still in his hands. He hardly brought up the Fire Nation prince at all, especially in front of Iroh. He'd only got to know his teacher after Zuko had died but, nonetheless, it was clear how deeply his passing had affected Iroh. Some days, back when they had been travelling together, Iroh would disappear, only for one of their group to find him in a daze, eyes far away and mind further still. Aang had been terrified that Iroh would just leave one day, never to be seen again. And it had been Aang's fault that Zuko had died.

Iroh stayed silent for a while and, when Aang finally looked up from his reverie, he found a slight frown on his teacher’s face.

"Aang, the Fog of Lost Souls tortures any who enter. It shows them their greatest fears and their deepest regrets." Iroh reached out for Aang's hand. "I know you still deeply regret my nephew's passing, but there is nothing either of us can do now. I fear that what you saw was only a mirage." Iroh released Aang's hand, but his watchful eyes were still locked into Aang's own. "I see your latest adventure has taken quite a toll on you. Why don't you rest here, at the palace. I will have someone prepare your usual chambers."

"Thanks," Aang replied, shaking his growing uneasiness away. "You must be right."

***

The Avatar.

For a fleeting moment, the veil that wrapped around his mind and spirit lifted and all he could see was the figure in front of him. And then, it had left, letting Zuko stand alone in fog and confusion.

Zuko was not going to let go so easily, though. His sister’s whispers urged him to give up, to just let it go. He told her to shut up, her and all the other voices, and followed the figure. It had been the Avatar, Zuko was sure of it. He'd seen his ghost before, but this time felt different. Zuko would catch up to him, he knew it. It was hard to discern anything through the mist that surrounded him, and he turned round, and round, and round as the apparition slipped through his fingers.

He'd done this so many times before.

How long had he been in this place? A minute? An hour? A whole day? Time seemed to stretch and thin, always out of Zuko's grasp. Yet, the boy continued with what he did best. He trudged forwards.

There! The figure had appeared out of the corner of his eyes and Zuko grabbed their shoulder before it could get away again. The prince pulled them around, roughly. However, it was not the Avatar that he now faced, and Zuko immediately fell to his knees, his forehead scraping the cold ground.

"Father, forgive me. I had mistaken you for someone else."

Zuko dared to lift his eyes up slightly and focused his gaze on the trim of the Fire Lord's robes. His heart was pounding. He'd not seen his father in almost three years, not since... Zuko's breathing came in fast, now. What in the seven seas was wrong with him? Zuko had messed up again. Their first interaction in years, and Zuko had shown only gross disrespect.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No, this didn't feel right. He'd seen his father since, right? It felt like an eternity ago, but he was sure he'd seen his father. The smoke that had built around Ozai's fist had looked the same as the fog surrounding them.

There was a long pause before the man laughed, cold and sharp. Zuko's heart sank. This was not his father.

"Get up," the man finally ordered. His voice was different from his father's, low and raspy and slightly grating to the ear. Zuko recognised it, though he could not pinpoint where he had heard it before.

Slowly, Zuko stood from his prostrated position to face the man in front of him. He left his head bowed for good measure. This man was the Fire Lord, after all.

"Do you not recognise me?"

Zuko finally dared to look into the man's face. He sported an uncanny likeness to his father. However, his face was thinner and his cheekbones were softer. He seemed younger, though it was hard to tell under all the regalia. It took an embarrassingly long time for Zuko to place where he had seen the man before. After all, the same face reflected back to him the rare times Zuko dared look into a mirror. At least, the half that hadn't been burnt off.

"I–" Zuko gulped. "I don't understand."

Fire Lord Zuko laughed again, the sound grating at the boy's ears. Zuko so rarely laughed. The Fire Lord's headpiece glinted as his head bobbed, though there was no light.

"You never understand much, do you?"

His tone was mocking, and Zuko hadn't known until now how repulsed one could be by the sound of their own voice.

"You are so pathetic, always revelling in your cowardice. Father was right to banish you, you are an embarrassment."

Every sentence felt like a punch to Zuko's gut, leaving him breathless and slightly sick. The worst of it was, Zuko knew every word to be true.

The other Zuko's eyes were full of contempt as he continued. "You know nothing of the war. Instead of aiding your nation in apprehending the Avatar, you have instead chosen your own selfish interests. The Earth Kingdom would have soon surrendered if not for you!"

"The people of the Earth Kingdom are stubborn and proud," Zuko cut in. "They have been fighting the Fire Nation for a century. They will fight us to their dying breath, with or without the Avatar."

"And yet, you know how the Avatar is a source of hope to the enemies of the Fire Nation. You know how hope drives the most desperate of men." The other Zuko's tone softened as he cupped his hand around Zuko's cheek. "Intimately."

Zuko shook the man's hand away. "You will not talk to me in that way!"

"I will talk to you however I like!" the vision roared. "You are the sole reason for the Avatar's escape at the Fire temple and at Pohuai. If not for your incompetence, the Avatar would not have been able to return to the oasis and destroy the Fire Nation fleet. Do you know how many years this would have set us back to?"

Each word felt stronger than a slap and Zuko's ears were ringing. Suddenly, he was back at the palace, so very small, head bowed as his tutors or his father aired their grievances at him. Except that this time, it wasn't someone else listing Zuko's every shortcomings, but Zuko himself, finally vocalising what he knew to be true.

"You've never had what it takes to lead your nation to victory. You've always been so soft, never willing to make the hard choices. Isn't that why you were banished?"

When Zuko had woken up for the first time, eye still burning from his father's touch, there had been two letters waiting for him. He'd hardly been able to see, let alone sit up, and Uncle had had to break the royal seal and read them out to him. One had been the terms of his banishment, the other had been a report of the roaring success of General Bujing's strategy. At the time, he had not known which had hurt the most.

"You've always been so naive, thinking you could become me. And yet, here you are, trapped for the end of time. Look at what your devotion cost you.

"You will never become me," the vision repeats. "Even now, you continue to chase a dream in that hope, and yet, you have learned nothing in your time away.

"Look at what you could have become." The other Zuko spread his arms and spun. His crimson robes flared around him, though the fog stayed still. "If only you were not such a disgrace to the Fire Lord. If only you knew your place."

Zuko's own voice rang in his ears, high-pitched and terrified. I meant no disrespect!

"That's not what happened," the boy blurted out.

The Fire Lord started. "What was that?"

"I mean, that wasn't my intention. I had just wanted to advise Father against General Bujing's plan." Zuko breathed shakely. "I've seen more now, I know it's useless to sacrifice our people to die like joey-lambs to the slaughter! They deserve better than that."

Despite the eternity separating him from the war council, the words still rang true to Zuko's ears.

His older self sneered. "Then, I was right. You do not have what it takes to fulfill your destiny. You are no prince, no heir, and no son. You can never hope to be me!"

"Then maybe I don't want to be you!" Zuko howled, and the fog cleared around him. The other Zuko faded with a soft smile on his lips and the shimmer of a scar over his left eye.

Zuko blinked rapidly at the sudden light crashing into his eyes. He was in a shallow ravine surrounded by sharp, tentacular outcrops. Other people were trapped, too. They were all around him, wandering aimlessly and muttering incomprehensibly to themselves.

Zuko took in a deep breath in an effort to calm his pounding heart. Yet, for the first time in a decade, Zuko's mind was finally clear. He gave no chance for the fog to fall back onto him, and ran to the crevace's edge.

His eyes lingered on a Fire Nation soldier up ahead, who stood dazed by one of the sharp rock formations. Zuko stopped in his tracks. It was a lower-ranked foot soldier, going by the uniform. Had Zuko also looked so lost? With mist still clinging to his eyes, the boy took a few steps forwards to look under the soldier's helmet. His heart leaped. It was a face the prince had never thought he'd see again.

The man looked exactly like Lu Ten.

Zuko pulled the soldier’s arm with him and they both clambered out of the pit.

Chapter Text

Rock turned to soft grass as Zuko's sprint slowed to a brisk walk. He finally let go of the soldier's hand and stepped onto a weathered path that seemed to lead to a forest ahead.

It took Zuko far too much time to completely purge the fog out of his mind. The past few months of his life came back to him in bursts. He'd been chasing the Avatar, a legendary entity no one had seen in a hundred years. He'd followed him and his companions across the Earth Kingdom, all the way up to the North Pole. Zuko gritted his teeth. They had continuously evaded him.

The prince took a hand to his face, reaching for injuries he knew had been there. There had been these pirates, hired by Zhao to dispose of him. Zuko had survived the attack by the skin of his teeth.

The prince curled his fingers, knuckles turning white. Zhao was the reason he was trapped here.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm his growing rage. Whatever Zhao had done, he'd still been Fire Nation. One of Zuko's people. But, instead of taking Zuko's damned hand, the admiral had grabbed his forearm and dragged him into the water.

"That bastard!" Zuko exclaimed as he kicked at the nearest rock. The action did not give him the satisfaction of pain.

The man walking next to him barely twitched at his outburst. His eyes stared into empty space.

Looking back at him now, the man had only a passing resemblance to Lu Ten. He was tall enough, broad shouldered. Yet, his dazed eyes were a hazel brown, not amber, and his tan was not as warm. Zuko cursed his fog-addled brain for ever thinking this could have been his cousin. Lu Ten was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Zuko's heart lightened slightly at the knowledge that he had, at the very least, saved one of his people from the fog. Had the man been part of the invasion? It didn't seem so to Zuko. His uniform did not seem issued by the navy and looked closer to those in the army, like the soldiers under Colonel Shinu's command. Zuko's eyes lingered on the man's armour. It was caked with a heavy layer of mud, and his scabbard was empty.

They reached the edge of the forest, and Zuko found himself looking in wonder at the gigantic trees. Their blue leaves composed the forest’s roof, which turned a purple hue as light filtered through the canopy. Everything felt so alive. Every leaf of every branch, every blade of grass, everything seemed to be breathing and speaking in a language of its own. No colour had ever seemed as bright as they do now.  Something deep inside of Zuko shouted that he should quieten his step.

Suddenly, the soldier slumped against a tree, knuckles digging into his eyes as he mumbled incomprehensively. He ripped the helmet off his head and threw it deep into the forest.

Zuko looked down at the soldier. His eyes softened slightly as he joined him to the ground. He was bone tired. "I guess we can stop for a while." Zuko looked up to the fading light filtering through the blue canopy. "We can make plans later."

Time passed and the soldier's voice grew clearer. "There was... and then the spirit... Huan, he told them, he begged them." The soldier suddenly straightened and looked around, his eyes settling on Zuko. "Where are we?"

Zuko bit his lip, not wanting to reveal what he knew to be true. It would make their predicament much too real. However, there was no point in denying their new reality.

"I think we're trapped in the spirit world."

It was hard to ignore the man's heart break as his laboured breathing morphed into soft sobs. Zuko scrunched his eyes shut. They had to get out of here.

Yet, thoughts of his future caught up to him. He had no idea what he was going to do, once he made it out of the Spirit World. His resources were gone: no ship, no crew, no Uncle. Zuko tried to gather his thoughts, shifting his focus to the forest breeze. It had an air of vanilla and cardamon. He took a deep breath in, but no flame came to him when he exhaled. He ignored the burning sensation at the corner of his eyes.

Uncle.

Yes, he guessed he could start by finding his uncle. Then, he'd need a ship, maybe from one of the graveyards. Uncle could pull a few strings, and they'd assemble a crew. Zuko's heart panged at the thought of his old crew. He'd seen the great spirit tearing into the Fire Nation fleet with the power of the ocean, the same spirit that had trapped him here. But he'd been so absorbed by his squabble with Zhao. Had any of his crew survived? They had been an ungrateful, mutinous bunch, but still, they did not deserve to die in such a way, cold and far from home.

Echoes from the fog whispered in his ear. He'd not even been paying attention to the fleet. What kind of prince did that make him?

Zuko lifted his eyes to the canopy, letting his back rest against bark. Far above, shadows seemed to dance between branches, as if carried by the sweet breeze. There was no point dwelling on the past, Zuko finally decided, and the future was still far away. They had to move on.

He clambered up from his position and nudged the soldier with his foot. Thankfully, the man seemed to have calmed somewhat.

"Let's go."

The prince did not wait for an answer before he turned on his heel and continued marching down the path they had taken through the forest.

"Wait up!" the man called as he stood. "Do you even know where you're going?"

Zuko blew out in annoyance, not even bothering to look back. "We can't just mope here forever. We need to get out of here, and the best way to do that is to keep moving."

There was loud shuffling behind him, followed by heavy stomps as the soldier caught up to Zuko. He tensed as he felt the soldier's hand on his shoulder, and his feet froze in place.

"Thanks kid, by the way, for getting me out."

Zuko nodded curtly, burying his irritation at the address, and started again at the same pace. Meanwhile, the man continued to blabber on behind him.

"I don't even know your name. I'm Sensu, by the way."

Sensu, an obvious Earth Kingdom name. It did match his countenance, so the man must be from the colonies. However, something gnawed at Zuko's mind as he continued forward. Mixed-heritage citizens were rarely accepted in the army. Most generals refused to have them integrate their troops altogether, and they were relegated to less favourable posts, such as Zuko's ship. Meanwhile, former Earth Kingdom citizens were banned from the army altogether. Generals usually made an exception for benders, of course. Any person blessed by fire was duty-bound to help lead their nation to victory. Maybe Sensu was a bender, then. Yet, benders usually held higher rank, and their belt did not hold a scabbard.

"Who did you serve under?" Zuko asks, turning his head to Sensu.

The older man's face scrunched up in an unreadable expression, though his brown eyes were locked into Zuko's gold. There was a long pause.

 "General Shu," Sensu let out finally.

 Zuko racked his brains for memories of a General Shu. Hadn't he been the one who led efforts near the Si Wong desert? From what he remembered, his troops had been diverted to support the Siege of Ba Sing Se, though, and he had stepped down soon after. Shu had not been at the war council. The air seemed to grow colder as Zuko tried to piece together the man's identity. He clenched his fist. It was probably the fog playing tricks on Sensu's mind. That, or it seemed that Sensu had been trapped much longer than Zuko had. The prince let out a breath that he did not know he was holding and turned his back to the man. Yes, that must have been the reason.

As they walked on, the forest prattled around them in what sounded faintly like voices and the soft tone of a pattala. It grated at Zuko, not being able to see where any of the sounds were coming from. Distantly, he could feel Sensu's gaze burning at his back. The boy dug his nails into his palms. Was his appearance so freakish that it warranted the unbroken stare? Or maybe... A flush made its way up Zuko's neck. Or maybe he had just forgotten to give his name in return. The boy turned his head, eyes once more locking into Sensu's.

"I am prince Zuko," he said, with little ceremony.

Sensu's brows knitted in confusion. Then, it was as if lightning had struck him and he clambered back, falling on his rear.

"You're the Fire Lord's son?" he said, in a tremble.

Zuko frowned suspiciously. He'd never had this reaction to announcing himself, before. Usually, he was met with anything from disinterest to pity. Only rarely did he encounter fear, and never from Fire Nation soldiers. What he saw in this man's eyes was abject terror.

His heart froze. It almost seemed like the man had seen a ghost... Had news of his disappearance at the North Pole already reached the troops in the Earth Kingdom? But this didn't make any sense!

Unless...

He looked at the man in a new light, and the gears in his mind finally spun into motion. The missing piece was there, staring directly into his eyes. Hidden behind the man's fear, there was an air of disgust. Suddenly, everything made sense. The man's heritage, his supposed posting, his hesitations. He took a step towards the honourless man.

"Why are you wearing a Fire Nation uniform?" Zuko asked, his tone even.

As anger surged through him, threatening to spill out, Zuko felt the absence of his fire keenly. How dare he trick the Fire Nation army. How dare he make a fool of Zuko. Distantly, the prince could feel the cold touch of his dagger against his ankle, where he had strapped it at the North Pole. He wondered if one could draw blood in the Spirit World.

Zuko took another step forward as he demanded, "what have you done to the soldier wearing your uniform?"

"I di-didn't..." the man mumbled, trying to justify himself, "I was forced..."

Suddenly, something in the man's eyes seemed to shift. He stood to his full height, and Zuko shifted his weight to his toes to keep their eyes level. The man advanced.

"It was you ashmakers who—"

Zuko interrupted him by shoving a finger to the man's breastplate, right where his sternum should be. If only he'd been back in the material world, he would have burned a hole through that damned armour.

"Don't you dare address me in that way, you—"

"Will you two both shut up!" a small, high-pitched voice interrupted from the trees. It was quickly accompanied by a chorus of approbation.

The chatter came from the leaves, the trees, that great pink mushroom on one side of the footpath. The whole forest was mocking him. Zuko turned his anger to the instigator, a small animal that could have looked like a tarsier if not for the mask balanced on its tiny head. It looked eerily like a human babe. Zuko growled at it, and the monkey only huffed in response before disappearing in a poof.

Zuko turned his anger within as the forest grew louder and louder until the boy screamed, at the top of his lungs, for them to all shut the fuck up. The forest finally quietened down to a rumble.

"I can't believe..." Zuko threw his arms up in the air, "I should have let you rot in that fog."

He did not wait for the man's answer as he stormed off...

Only to find himself facing, yet again, the Earth Kingdom man. Zuko whipped his head towards the direction in which he had taken off mere seconds ago. He tried marching down the path again, only for the same trick to happen. This time, however, instead of facing Sensu's angry stare, it twinkled slightly in amusement. Zuko huffed out what he so wished could be smoke. Why did he always have to be the butt of someone's cosmic joke?

Zuko locked his jaw and turned once again. He was not going to get tricked a third time. With embarrassment, the prince realised that, in his blast of anger, he had ignored the line of carved, humanoid poles along the path. They were common in some parts of the western Earth Kingdom and were meant to ward off intruders and malignant spirits alike. Zuko let out an exasperated sigh, hating that he had to play along with the spirits' games.

"Protector spirit! Let me pass deeper into the forest," Zuko demanded, eyes fixed to one of the pillars.

"And why would I do that?" came a small, childlike voice from behind him.

Zuko spun to face the spirit, idly noting that it had chosen to appear on top of the pole furthest to him. It was the size of a small child. Its body was unclothed, dark and slightly translucent. A colourful theatre mask, its expression frozen in a rictus, was placed over the spirit's face. It was sitting, its leg dangling over the pole's carved head.

"I need to get back to the material world. Now let me pass!"

The spirit tapped its masked chin, tauntingly. Before it could answer Zuko's demand, though, the low voice of the Earth Kingdom soldier came from behind him.

"What my companion is trying to say is that we are quite lost and wish to call upon your wisdom to return to our rightful place in the physical world."

Zuko turned his head quizzically towards Sensu, whose face remained impassable. What reason could he have to jump in? Not moments ago, the man was in his face, declaring his disdain for the Fire Nation and its prince.

In turn, the spirit's mask turned to face Sensu, though its head did not. Zuko's breath caught as he realised there was no face behind the mask.

"You have been trapped in the Fog of Lost Souls for a very long time..." it said. Then, it tilted its head to the cobalt canopy and laughed. "It's not often that people escape the Fog, and now, it's like a windmill in there!"

The spirit’s laughs resonated like windchimes through the forest, and it took a long time for them to die down to a dull ring. It was then that the spirit spoke again.

"You've lost your bodies, right?" The spirit turned its mask to Zuko and Sensu in turn and let out a small giggle. "Maybe they aren't dead yet! Wouldn't that be great?"

Zuko blanched. His body, dead? No, that couldn't be... He was here, conscious, arguing with a spirit. That had to mean he was still alive. His mind wandered to the legends of spirits that would, or could not move on, like the Kemurikage, who had haunted the Fire Nation's past and haunted the minds of children, still. No, that could not be him.

Once again, it was Sensu who spoke to the spirit.

"Great spirit, do you know of a way we could return to our bodies if..." Sensu gulped, and tried again, "if they are still alive?"

The spirit swung its knees back and forth, its fingers drumming against the carved head it was perched on. It tilted its head, though its mask stayed fixed.

"Uhm, I guess Umma would know. She's been around for a long time..."

"Umma?" Zuko asked

The spirit turned its attention to the younger boy.

"That's her domain." It pointed an arm towards the path, in the direction Zuko had tried to go through. "You'll need payment, of course! It's not like I'd just let you pass!"

Zuko groaned. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. He dreaded to think about the kind of payment a spirit would ask from him.

"So, this 'Umma' lives deeper in the forest, and will know how we can get back to our bodies?"

"Yep!"

"What's your price?"

The spirit's body leant forwards and its neck extended towards Zuko, until all he could see was the mask's unnerving grin. Zuko did not look away and stared straight into the slits that served as its eyes.

"I want a piece of your past."

Zuko blinked, finally breaking eye contact. Did the spirit mean an object? He'd lost everything since his banishment, and even the titbits he had managed to bring along, he'd lost to the Pirate attack. Everything except... His left boot suddenly felt very heavy.

A steadfast breeze brushed against him. It was Sensu, walking to the spirit with his back straight and his step steady. He let his head fall into a bow and unfastened a necklace that had been hiding under his armour, passing it over his head. It was an intricately carved jade necklace, its stone depicting a badger-mole. Zuko recognised it as the work of a master and, going by the small squeal the spirit let out, it did too.

The air rippled around the spirit's hand as it stretched its arm to the pendant, as if reaching through water. The pendant shimmered as the spirit curled its hand around the stone. It looked so real.

"Exquisite!" The spirit let out and wrapped the pendant around its own neck.

Then, the mask turned to Zuko, eager for more. "And what do you have to offer me, little prince."

It seemed that the whole forest suddenly turned its focus onto Zuko, and the prince suddenly felt very shaky on his feet. The air was stifling. He only had one thing to give away: the last piece of his old life, the words on its blade an anchor during all the dark days since. Once again, it seemed like the world was much too eager to chip at the last fragments of his self. Ignoring the burning sensation welling at the corner of his eyes, he reached out for the dagger in his boot. It felt so light in his hand. Zuko lifted his hand to the spirit and, just like that, it was gone. I'm sorry, Uncle.

Zuko did not look up to the spirit as it inspected the weapon, nor did he when it seemed to disappear with a poof, taking his dagger away with it.

"Come on, let's go."

There was only one path, and Zuko had no choice but to follow the Earth Kingdom man. Disappointment weighed at Zuko's heart as he realised the forest still looked much the same as it had before. Except that now, he had lost his dagger. Forever.

"Why did you intervene?" Zuko asked, finally.

"Don't worry, Prince Zuko, it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart," Sensu answered, shortly. His tone softened somewhat as he continued. "I want to get out of here as much as you do. The way I see it, we'll have a better chance if we work together. Besides," Sensu turned his head towards Zuko, a glint in his eyes, "it's clear that you'll get yourself killed if there's no one there to keep you in check."

Zuko huffed half-heartedly at the gall of the man. He doubted one could get killed in the Spirit World, though it was true that he was not eager to test the hypothesis. Sensu turned his head back towards the forest path. His fingers curled around the uniform's robes.

"I have not forgotten that my life is indebted to yours," Sensu concedes. "If it makes you feel any better, I am not in this armour out of trickery or deceit."

Zuko nodded, though his mind was too far away for him to care. He had no choice but to believe this lie for now.

Chapter Text

They had been walking for what seemed like hours—Sensu up in front and Zuko lingering a few feet behind—when the woods changed. The leaves turned to a dark green as the surrounding trees morphed into a lush tropical forest. Only the faintest of lights found its way through the canopy, now. The path reflected most of it away, though, and glowed bright in the dimming light. Zuko's eyes lingered on a small, pinkish cluster of berries growing on a shrub at the side of the path. He was not sure how, but he knew that if he touched the plant, its small hairs would imbed into his skin, and he would live a very painful life. If he found his body, that is. Still, he gave the shrub a wide berth as he walked past.

Overall, the forest could be mistaken for one in the material world, if not for the utter silence that engulfed them and, of course, the faces. The bark of the tall trees sported strange markings somewhat resembling bold theatre make-up, as did the plumage of silent birds perched on branches high above. Zuko tried to quiet his growing uneasiness. Everything seemed so eerily familiar, like a dream long passed.

The silence was all-encompassing and yet, his mind revelled in filling it with the Fog's whispers. Some voices he craved and some he ignored. Yet, all echoed the same sentiment. He'd failed them all. Zuko scrunched his eyes and tried to quieten his mind. Why was the Fog's grip still so tight when he had escaped it? He forced his thoughts to focus elsewhere: his return to the physical world, the Avatar, the now and the soldier marching ahead... Anything but this ugly feeling festering inside his heart, as he'd done so many times before.

In all this time, there had been no crossroads, no choice in the path that they were currently taking. Zuko was not foolish enough to think that the doorway spirit had not had an ulterior motive when it had claimed to help them, nor did he believe it had been genuine in its offer to guide them to its master. Zuko's throat tightened. He had somehow given into the idea that he had been on the spirit's turf and had to follow their rules. If he'd just been less emotional, he could have been more savvy. He could have tricked it to give him what he wanted. In the end, he had fallen back to that dirt eater's judgement, and it had cost him dearly.

Zuko tried to make himself believe he did not mind the silence coming from the Earth Kingdom soldier. He was used to long periods of loneliness, after all. And really, what could they say to each other? They were on opposite sides of the war, allies only because of shared circumstance. Sensu had not tried to attack him yet, and Zuko could not strike until he knew more of his motives. Most likely, Sensu was sticking around to ensure Zuko would not return to the material world. The throne would be much weaker if the Fire Lord was left with only one scion.

Yet every action Sensu took seemed so genuine, and his earlier words had rung true. The way he walked with a sure step, and the earnest manner of his talk, it all reminded him of... No, Zuko refused to go down that path again. This soldier would be an ally so long as it was beneficial to Zuko, and he would gather any intelligence on this new Earth Kingdom strategy that dressed simple soldiers in his nation's armour. Yes, that was the best plan of action.

Zuko perked his ears at the sound of a low rumble in the distance. The only sound among the silence of their own footsteps and the thoughts churning in Zuko's head. He stopped and turned to peer into the dense forest towards the ever-growing sound. He ignored Sensu's questioning gaze and focused. There were ruffles as shrubs parted, and the low patter of footfalls on the forest floor. It was coming fast, very fast. Zuko lunged out of the creature's way as it ripped through the forest, jumped over the path and into the trees on the other side. It had been a huge wolf and had sported the same strange markings as the trees. A voice—long forgotten—rang inside Zuko's ears, recounting the story of a wolf and of a mother. He sprang to his feet and sprinted after it, the path and its heavy silence lost behind him.

The forest tore into Zuko as he chased the wolf down. Wind and soft vines whipped against his cheeks as the stillness was replaced by the rush of blood to his ears. The wolf made no move of slowing, purposeful in its race and ignorant of its pursuers. Zuko quickened his sprint. If he concentrated, he could practically feel his muscles burn. He almost let himself laugh. He was finally doing something, seizing the moment. Behind him, Zuko could hear the scrunch of Sensu’s heavy footfalls on the forest floor.

The wolf's sprint slowed to a pace as they erupted into a clearing. Zuko stopped abruptly. He ignored the soldier's grumbles as he caught up to the younger boy. He kept his eyes on the wolf. It had walked up to a clear lake and leaned to lap its content. The lake was small, perfectly circular. The light rushing into the clearing reflected on the water in a thousand precious stones. The wolf's tongue made no wavelets as it broke the surface, and the lake stayed eerily still.

The stillness was broken by Sensu's murmur.

"Are you off your rocker? Now we have no blasted idea where we are!"

Although the wolf seemed to pay them no mind, Zuko tried to keep his voice to a harsh whisper as he replied.

"Well, it's not like following that path was doing us any favours! That wolf's the only thing we've seen in ages. It has to be related to Umma."

"And what if it’s not? You knew nothing of that Umma spirit."

That same feeling of familiarity tugged at Zuko's heart. The faces, the lake, the wolf... He almost recognised them, like a dream long forgotten.

"I just know, alright?"

Zuko's feelings were vindicated not moments later when the trees parted to reveal a great, towering spirit. Its naked, bark-like skin practically blended into the forest. Its head glowed with a crown of mask-like faces, none of which seemed to see. Translucent visages floated and twirled in a tornado around her. Zuko let out a breath. Finally, he recognised the spirit. She had been part of Mother's bedtime stories, and her likeness had been common in the temples of his nation. Of course: Umma, the Mother of Faces, a friend of humans. Zuko bowed deeply as the spirit turned her body towards them. Beside him, Sensu remained upright.

"I am the Mother of Faces. And yet, you have not come to me for a new appearance."

Zuko straightened and looked up to the spirit's nearest face. "We were told that you would know how we can return to our bodies."

The spirit did not speak for quite a while, instead seeming to stare directly into Zuko. When it spoke, it was through another mouth.

"Your body is not mine to return, my son," she finally says. "Your future is for the Ocean Spirit to decide. Yet, I will help you."

Her long, branch-like arm reached for Zuko. She unfurled her elongated fingers, revealing a conch shell in her palm. Zuko did not hesitate as he moved to grab it.

"The Ocean is not of this world, and you will need this to call its spirit to you," she explained. "But be careful. La did not take kindly to the Fire Nation's transgressions at the Siege of the North. He may not be as understanding as I am of your predicament."

Zuko gulped at her words but said nothing. The Mother of Faces retracted her arm and turned her attention to his companion.

"As for you, my child, your body is not in the Spirit World, nor is it in the physical world. The wrong done to the spirits that have brought you here may never be repaired. Yet, they will not take offence with you leaving. You will need a spirit of the physical world to rejoin with your body. My own power only holds in the physical world once a season. When the time comes, if you are still within my domain, my wolf will bring you to me and I will return you to your rightful place."

As if on cue, the wolf stood and darted back into the forest. The Mother of Faces turned once more to Zuko.

"It is now my time to leave. Your face is changed from the memories of one I once helped. Yet, I see her likeness in you. Come to me in the material world so I may show you the truth."

And then, before Zuko could comprehend what she had said, the Mother of Faces was gone in a flurry of leaves and faces.

Zuko immediately fell to his knees, the conch cradled in his lap. He ran his fingers over the shell's grooves and up its spire, eyes focused on the intricate, contrasting pattern. The spirit's presence had been so... It had been as if the air itself had left him, as if the Earth itself was pulling him down. Yet, Zuko felt no relief at her words. He would need to call the Ocean Spirit, the one that had dragged him here in the first place and had left him to rot in the Fog. It was yet another hurdle on his path to go home. He felt Sensu sit beside him.

"I guess that's where we separate."

Sensu continued to talk, but Zuko drowned out the rest of the man's babble. Instead, his attention was drawn to his reflection in the crystal lake. Except that it was not his own battered face that stared back at him, but that of a young man, eyes grey and complexion pale. His head was shaved, revealing a characteristic blue arrow, its tip reaching to his third eye. With his right hand still tightly gripped around the conch, Zuko reached for the man with his left. The Avatar reached back, mirroring him exactly. As their hands were about to touch, a whip of water erupted from the surface, wrapping around Zuko's outstretched arm and dragging him under.

Suddenly, Zuko was back in that harbour, his lungs threatening to fill with seawater while scorching red debris fell around him. His chest was burning. He struggled against the water, flailing to the surface, but no light filtered through. Everything was dark. It'd been night, after all. His last breath escaped his lungs in bubbles, and he was falling, pulled into the water's depth. A cruel chuckle sounded in his ear.

"You can breathe, you know."

It took some time for Zuko's brain to catch up. He couldn't be in the harbour; he'd already saved himself from the burning wreckage of his ship. He'd even made it across the Arctic Sea to the Water Tribe Capital, after that. He was not in the physical world anymore. He didn't even need to breathe. He stopped struggling against the water and let himself float. Cautiously, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. They met those of a gigantic serpent. Its scales were a light blue, though slightly iridescent, and seemed to reflect light, casting the shadows of the water away. Its mouth was ajar, revealing pearly fangs twice the size of Zuko's head. The water serpent was large, much larger than the lake Zuko had been dragged into. Its tail encircled him entirely, and he gritted his teeth to avoid falling into another panic. He lifted his head and straightened his back as best he could despite his weightlessness in the water.

"Who are you?" Zuko said.

The serpent circled Zuko once, twice, seeming to gauge his spirit. As it did, its hums resonated in the murky depths, sounding faintly like a Tsungi horn's tune. The spirit slithered back to centre, staring once more into Zuko's eyes. The prince did not break the stare.

It was its eyes that changed first, shrinking and moving to the front of its head as the pupils became rounder. Its fangs shrunk to sharp canines in its mouth. Its body shortened, tail splitting into two legs as arms sprouted from the scales of its now torso. The transformation revealed a man, black hair and beard streaming around his head, sharp against the almost deathly paleness of his face. His scales had morphed into a deep blue outer-garment, weightless and flowing in the water, patterned like droplets of rain in the ocean's stillness. The sleeves were short, revealing an ivory undergarment, its collar also visible at the man's neck. A lacquered wooden scabbard hung to his belt. He seemed much taller than Zuko, though the man's eyes floated level with his own. He looked ethereal, and he looked dangerous.

"You already know who I am," the man replied, finally.

And yes, of course Zuko knew. The spirit had haunted the lineage of the Dragon Emperor and of the Fire Lords after him. He was the bringer of floods and droughts and pestilence to the Fire Nation. Throughout his childhood, Zuko had been warned against him in plays and myths alike. A legendary swordsman; he'd been banished, and he'd been free. It was his mask that Zuko had brought along with him, and it was this mask that Zuko had donned in his own banishment.

Zuko still looked straight to the spirit as he replied.

"You are the Dark Water Spirit."

The man broke eye contact, and circled around Zuko, much as he had done as a serpent.

"I am known by that name, yes."

Zuko turned his head around, searching for the spirit's face.

"Have you come to kill me?" the prince said, voice sounding like a challenge.

The spirit laughed, then. "Now, why would I do that?"

"It wouldn't be the first time you've killed a member of my family."

The spirit's dark eyes twitched, and his smile tightened. "Perhaps."

Zuko's left-hand fingers wrapped around an invisible hilt. If he lunged quickly enough, he could hope to grab the sword from its scabbard, maybe, strike the spirit and get out of this mess. His right hand tightened its grip. He would need to drop the conch first. As if reading Zuko's mind, the spirit's fingers brushed against the hilt of his sword. His fingernails were painted black. Zuko clicked his jaw.

"What do you want from me?"

"You know, in parts of the Earth Kingdom, I bring rain to the paddies of its peoples, and, by my will, their bellies are kept full. In storms, I tame the sea and guide their sailors home. They celebrate my prowess in ridding their inner seas of monsters, and they put up operas to my glory. But you already know all of that, I'm sure."

Zuko gritted his teeth but said nothing. The spirits sure did like the sound of their own voices.

The spirit's smile widened, revealing his sharp canines. "I am prosperity and I am danger. I am one and the other, yet I am neither, as I think you are."

The spirit stopped once more in front of Zuko. He had yet to answer the prince's question. His gaze was soft against the boy's glare.

"You are an interesting character, prince Zuko. In you, two legacies war for control, and you alone can decide which one will be victorious. You rebel against it now, but you will see, in time. As I did."

"Cut to the chase," Zuko hissed in annoyance. "What is it you want from me?"

"You are blessed by the Sun. Yet, you are cursed for the murder the Moon. I was merely curious as to the path you would take. But now, I see.

"I will give you this word of advice before we part. The Ocean Spirit holds long grudges and yet, it is not the first time his beloved has been killed." The spirit's smile turned dangerous once again. "Though, in all honesty, the last assailant had much more style..."

The spirit's eyes wandered, as if reliving a memory. Zuko locked his jaw but waited for the spirit to finish. He did not need another curse to his name.

"You will need the Moon's help to assuage the Ocean's fury. Remember Tui. La cannot live without Tui and Tui cannot live without La. Their spirits and bodies are intertwined, as they always have been."

At that, the spirit disappeared into the water. Zuko brought the conch's mouthpiece to his lips and blew, calling the Ocean's spirit to him.

***

Aang woke up with a start. He frantically grabbed at the ground beneath him. Soft grass. He breathed in relief. It was not the bare rock that had been in his dream. Appa's fur was soft and warm against his back, staving off the night chill. Right, he was on the outskirts of Fire Fountain City, slowly making his way to Harbor town. Appa's body rumbled against Aang's.

"It's ok, buddy. Just a nightmare."

He'd been to the Fog of Lost Souls again, in his dream. It'd been nearly a month now and still, Aang could not stave off the nightmares from this place. He rubbed at his temples. He just couldn't understand. The Fog would only release those who overcame their fears. Then, why did it follow him still?

Zuko

Yes, that was it. Aang could not get the Fire Nation prince out of his mind. He'd looked so solid, back there, so real. And then, in that last nightmare, Zuko had even reached out for him. Was it possible that Zuko had gotten trapped in the Spirit World? It was conceivable: the spirits had been involved at the Siege of the North. Aang himself... He shook the thought out of his mind. No, Zuko had not crossed the spirit there. He had not taken part in the battle; he had not been the one responsible for the Moon's death.

Aang wiped away at tears he had not realised he was shedding. Oh, he so wished Katara was with him now. He wished any of his former companions were here, with him. But they were all so busy extinguishing the last fires of the war and with the creation of a long-lasting peace. Aang couldn't remember the last time they had been together, or the last time they had just relaxed and had fun.

Aang dug his head into Appa's fur, willing himself to go back to sleep. Yet, daybreak came, and he still could not blink the image of Zuko out of his eyes.

Chapter Text

At first, the shell's call seemed to have no effect, and Zuko began to wonder if he had been tricked, yet again. Then, the water around him began to cool ever so slightly, and a feeling of anticipation ran down his spine. A sensation akin a trickle of icy raindrops slithering between one’s back and shirt. There was a presence building around Zuko. Strong and powerful. Zuko knew then that La had indeed answered his call.

You summon me, the water seemed to state.

Zuko's fingers twitched, and his eyes fixed to a single point, far in the uniform darkness. He poured all his attention into that point. "I was told that you alone can give me my body back."

I will not.

Zuko felt his body freeze, despair clawing at his mind. He burned as his anger took over. "What? You have no right to keep me here! I did not murder the Moon Spirit, Zhao did!"

The water grew colder than the polar seas. And yet, is it not you who caused the Avatar's absence when Zhao attacked us?

The ocean seemed to speak directly into Zuko's mind. It was hard to disentangle his thoughts from the spirit's, and the coil of guilt associated with it. Zuko grasped at the memory of events right after he'd woken on the Avatar's bison at the sound of his uncle's voice. Somehow, the koi that Zhao killed had hosted the moon's spirit. Who had known that? Surely not the Northern tribe. There had been no guards at the oasis door.

"Zhao is relentless. He would have stopped at nothing, even with the Avatar there. He stopped at nothing to kill me, too," Zuko finished bitterly.

You blame Zhao, and yet I still chose to keep your spirit trapped. I could have let your spirit go, as I did for all the other soldiers. But I did not, and I will not.

There is nothing to be gained, here.

And, just like that, the presence receded, leaving Zuko to float alone in nothing but the emptiness, crying out after the spirit. He cursed, again and again, until his throat grew sore and he had to rip the words out of his throat. But he did not plead.

What had he done to deserve this predicament? It had been Zhao, that overreaching, bootlicking fool that had dared to anger the spirits, not him. Yet, the Ocean's words had a ring of truth, and shadows of doubt crept in the outskirts of Zuko's mind. They felt a little like despair.

The Ocean's wrath had caused so many of his people to drown.

Zuko idly wondered if he should just give up, let his spirit stay in this world forever. What could he go back to, anyways? He had shamed his family and his nation. He had no honour, and the Avatar's capture seemed so far away and, maybe for the first time in three years, unreachable. Yet, his treacherous mind whispered back. He still had his life. He could not give up on it so easily.

He remembered his uncle's warm embrace, so long ago on Zhao's boat. Uncle had told him what Zuko had already known to be true. It had hurt, that confirmation of why Uncle had followed him across the world in his exile, despite all of Zuko's pushing. The admission had sounded final. Zuko dug his nails into his palm, resolute. He would not let it be their final words.

Against all his better instincts, Zuko did what he had sworn never to do again. That he would not kneel, that he would not beg. It was shameful, painfully branded into his flesh. And yet, he knew he had to return to his body. He had to live. The Dark Water Spirit's words still echoing inside his mind, Zuko called to the Moon Spirit, drawing on Fire Nation prayers. He recalled the chants of the Fire Sages, low and pulsating, wanting for fire. He did not know any from the Water Tribe, and he hoped that this would be enough.

It was.

Where darkness had previously prevailed, there was only blinding white light. An overpowering force pulled at Zuko, seeming to turn him inside out. The brightness around him pulsed, and a headache formed above his eyes. His stomach turned as he felt his body lurch upwards. He felt slightly sick.

The sensation stopped, suddenly, and Zuko stumbled backwards as his feet hit the ground. Except, that didn't feel right. His feet only touched the ground because he saw the pebbled floor under them. It was as if in a fevered dream, unable to connect to the world he trespassed. He took in his surroundings. He was fully submerged in what seemed to be a pond, its area the size of a small room. Algae sprouted between weathered stones and danced to the water's current. Above him, the full moon shone bright, its rays illuminating the walls of the pond and highlighting the water's surface, high above. In the moonlight, two lone fish swam in an eternal motion.

He knew then that he was back at that oasis behind the Northern Tribe palace, and these were the mortal forms of the Ocean and Moon spirits.

Zuko continued to watch the two fish swim, mesmerised. As they circled each other, the wavelets they spawned seem to form snippets of a conversation. Some words Zuko understood, while some remained inaccessible. The war, the Firelord, Uncle, destiny, him. Zuko tensed. They were deciding his fate. The wavelets reflected from each fish as they turned around each other, again and again in a dizzying dance. Their movements were faster. Much faster. They spiralled inwards, seemingly unaware that they would soon crash into each other. Just as they were about to, however, they slowed and moved away. Zuko's fists trembled as he dug his nails into his palm, grasping at pain.

A decision had been made.

A brighter light shone from the pond's surface as a hand reached down for him, gentle and inviting. Zuko reached back. His eyes widened as he noticed that, for the first time, his hand had a blue tint and was fully transparent. Meanwhile, the figure hauled him upwards, out of the pond. The surface did not break as Zuko passed through it. He landed weightlessly on grass. Below the oasis’s red spirit gate sat a girl, her hair silver and her features soft. She was glowing white and slightly translucent, like him. Zuko vaguely recognised her as one of the Avatar's companions, though she had not glowed the last time he had seen her.

"Come and sit with me, Zuko," she said as she motioned to the patch of grass beside her.

Zuko bristled at the lack of honorific, but sat down anyways, careful to avoid the offerings piled below the gate. Zuko waited. He suspected that the Water Tribe girl was not as she seemed, and he let her lead the conversation. He'd crossed enough spirits lately to have learned that particular lesson.

"Do you remember me?"

"Yes." Zuko narrowed his eyes. "But you were not glowing."

The girl gave him a small smile. "I used to be princess Yue, our leader's daughter. I am still, in a sense."

Princess. That explained the rich fabrics she had worn despite her city being under siege. It still did not explain why she was see-through. Zuko gave Yue an inpatient look, urging her to continue, and frowned at the small giggle she let out.

"I was born sick, and the Moon Spirit gave me life," she continued. Her eyes shifted to the fish still circling each other in the pond. "I gave back my life to save the Moon, and my people."

Zuko's eyes widened, and he stared at her more intently. Yue's eyes were glazed and pained.

"You fulfilled your duty, then."

Zuko scrunched his eyes shut. He'd been busy fighting with Zhao while his people died by the score.

"As did you," Yue replied, softly.

Zuko opened his eyes, meeting her soft, blue gaze. Her eyes darted to the left side of his face. He shifted, resisting the urge to reach for his scar. His experience in the fog was still churning in the back of his mind. He had been right in his drive to save his people, though his behaviour in the war meeting and after had tainted his actions with shame and disgrace. Any clarity he had gained in that moment–facing the vision of his older self–had seemed to have disappeared. He stayed silent.

Yue must have sensed his unease as she reached out her hand, stopping short of grabbing his own. Zuko moved his own hand away.

"I can show you the battle, if you want."

Zuko nodded and this time, when Yue reached her hand out to him, he reached back.

He was suddenly transported to that night at the North Pole, when the moon had turned black. It was dark, with the city illuminated solely by the light from the fire of torches or firebending and, of course, the towering, glowing, monstrous form the Ocean Spirit had taken. There was a small body at its heart. It emitted the most light and seemed to power the Ocean Spirit. The Avatar.

It wasn't much of a battle.

Dread settled in the pit of Zuko's stomach as he watched as his soldiers drowned while waterbenders prostrated themselves in reverence before the spirit. He watched as the spirit cut through ships as if they were made of jelly. People fell or jumped overboard, desperate to escape the now destroyed metal carcasses. As the vision faded, some ships–too few–geared away as the moon once more illuminated the dark sky and the Spirit's form receded away. He hoped his old crew had been on one of the unharmed ships. He doubted it.

Zuko pulled back, panting. A cold anger settled in his stomach as he blinked the bodies out of his mind. In his hunt, Uncle had warned him many times about the consequences of showing the spirits disrespect. Most often, Zuko had recognised this wisdom with some reluctance. He was not stupid. He did know better than to anger the spirits so blatantly when there was a way around it. Apparently, Zhao was just that stupid.

The Northern Water Tribe must have fished out floating corpses for weeks.

Yue was watching him intently, gauging his reaction. She waited until his breath came back to him before she spoke again.

"Do you understand the Ocean's wrath?"

Zuko closed his eyes again. "I think I can," he admitted. He sounded more spiteful than intended, though it was not directed at the Ocean Spirit.

"Look into the water, Zuko," Yue said, as she motioned to the pools circling the Oasis.

Zuko stood and strode towards the area Yue had pointed at. As he walked, his footsteps left no marks in the grass. The princess followed silently behind him. He knelt at the edge, peering into the water. A small prayer left his lips as he gazed upon the armour of a navy admiral, the moon's rays reflecting on its owner's skull. Zhao, most likely. However, Zuko's breath caught as his gaze wondered upwards. There was a body encased in ice.

Zuko's throat went dry. There lay his body, perfectly preserved. He could almost feel the ice's chill.

He sat back onto his ankles and ran a hand over his face.

"What?" Zuko croaked, and he hated how small his voice sounded. "I don't understand."

"The Ocean Spirit preserved your body as it separated from your spirit," Yue explained. "It was curiosity from your willingness to save Zhao despite the risk to yourself.

"The actions of your ancestors have wronged many spirits in their indiscriminate violence,” Yue continued. “With your actions at the Siege of the North and your most recent meeting, the Ocean Spirit believes keeping your spirit and body apart prevents any of this from happening again."

"My father did not know of the nature of Zhao's plans," Zuko countered with force.

Yue did not rebuke his objection, and there was a long pause before she spoke again.

"Do you know what I believe, Zuko?" Yue shifted closer to him. Her voice had gone softer. "I sacrificed my life to the Moon Spirit, for the good of my people, and for the good of the world." Yue drew in a sharp breath. "I gave up my life to become the Moon so that no other life need be taken."

Zuko exhaled, eyes downcast. "It's cruel."

"Yes, it is."

There was a long pause. Zuko turned his head away from Yue, towards the shadow of the sun as it peaked between the steep cliffs and the Water Tribe's palace. Its rays reflected yellow on the Northern Sea and on the lone icebergs that floated sluggishly away from the capital. The sun was rising due East. It must be spring, then.

It was Yue who broke the silence. "Who do you believe is right, Zuko?"

Zuko turned his gaze back to his lap. "Does it really matter?" he replied, some fire lacing his words.

"It does, Zuko."

Zuko closed his eyes, and he knew the Ocean Spirit was right to be fearful, after what happened. Zhao was not the only high-ranking officer willing to sacrifice everything for the war, after all. He turned his body towards Yue and bent as low as he could without touching her lap. They were too close.

"I–" he hesitated. His mouth was unnaturally dry. He willed his voice to sound firmer when he tried again. "I swear no harm will come to the spirits from my actions in the war." He flicked his eyes upwards. Yue's expression had not changed. "Or in my actions when apprehending the Avatar."

Zuko drew his eyes back down, his gaze focused on a single blade of grass. He stayed immobile, stomach on his knees, waiting for Yue's cue.

"Is that what you are planning to do when you are reunited with your body? Go after the Avatar?"

Zuko lifted himself back and stared into Yue's eyes. There was something sad inside them. Something that reminded him a little of his mother.

"It's the only way I can regain my rightful place." His voice sounded a little strained to his ear. "To be the prince my people deserve, as you were."

"And if your situation has changed?"

Zuko pursed his lip. He knew some time must have passed in the physical world. He could only hope there was still a way for Zuko to regain his honour. He could not think of any alternative to his father’s quest.

"The Ocean Spirit will return you to your body," Yue continued, "and I will offer you a parting gift for the hardships to come. A companion, someone who will help you as you have helped him."

What? Zuko wanted to ask, but he found that his words were stuck in his throat, and he could not speak anymore. Yue's head tilted upwards as Zuko lifted into the air. Ice settled against his skin. His heart lurched as if accelerated at great speed. A bright, silver light filled his vision and tears filled his eyes. Yue's voice could barely be heard in the rushing wind and current.

"Your destiny is not as it was, Zuko. And you will need to adapt."

Suddenly, the world went dark, and he could feel himself floating in water, again. Except that now, heavy winter clothes were weighing him down, dragging him to the bottom. Yue's parting words were so soft he could barely hear them.

"Goodbye, Zuko."

It was only then that Zuko realised he was drowning.

***

The elders had been in a frenzy all day. It was unclear what the meaning of the morning's bright light had been, and that was putting everyone on edge. Aya sighed, exhausted. She had been the one that had fished up the armoured carcass out of the Spirit Oasis’s waters. It was disconcerting that it had not been discovered before. It had been so far from the city, in their most sacred place, and the elders feared that it cast a bad omen over the coming summer months. They lived on a knife’s edge: too hot and the city would melt, too cold and there would not be enough food to preserve for the long winter.

Aya shuddered, trying to blink the armour out of her mind. She had been young when the Fire Nation had attacked her people and insulted the spirits. But still, the sight of it filled her with the smell of smoke and fear.

She spread out a roll of parchment on her desk and began to write. Today was the vernal equinox. An incident like this on such a date needed to be recorded and reported. The Avatar had to be informed.