Chapter Text
I didn't know how to break it to Zuko that this quest of ours was hopeless. It didn't take long for cynicism to sink into my bones, between watching him agonize over every little detail for how we'd find the Avatar and knowing how unlikely it is we'd ever succeed in doing so.
At least, if the task wasn't hopeless, I certainly was.
"I know you don't care one way or the other about getting back," Zuko said to me a week after we sustained our injuries, face twisted into a scowl. "But I want to get this over with. Can't you help me out here in some way?"
The Wani had reached the nearest body of water to the Western Air Temple and the crew were eager to be back on solid ground again. Which left only the two of us on the deck for the moment.
I just looked at him, tapping my fingers against my new prosthetic arm.
"Why do you glare at people so much these days? I can't remember you ever being so… combative all the time. And now you don't even laugh at my shitty jokes, or the General's puns. He's been trying to reach out to you, get you to engage with something that isn't hunting this guy—but you always brush it off. What's gotten into you, Zuko?"
He glared even harder at me as if my question had only incensed him.
"You know damn well what's gotten into me," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "How can you expect me to just be happy so soon after my life was ruined? Not that you care."
I sighed, still adjusting to my friend's new angst-ridden attitude. "Of course I care. Don't accuse me of not caring about you, for that will never change."
The reassurance seemed to soften his expression minutely. I rose from where I was sitting on the edge of the ship and stood beside him.
Gaze trained on the horizon before us, I told him: "I miss you, is all. I hope someday soon I get to see your smile again."
I made my way toward the gangway leaving Zuko behind with that to think about. He stared at the back of my head as I went, stunned. But his face had gone back to its usual scowl by the time he stepped off the Wani and joined Iroh and I.
We'd arrived at the crest of a plateau overlooking a great chasm. A waterfall roared down the cliffside, creating plumes of mist that obfuscated its true depths.
"Welcome," the General proclaimed, gesturing to the edge of the cliff, "to the Western Air Temple!"
I tilted my head in confusion. Zuko's eyes narrowed.
"Uncle… What are you talking about? There's nothing here!"
He chuckled, flashing us a knowing grin. "Follow me. You won't believe it until you see it for yourselves."
Iroh secured a long stretch of rope to a rock formation by the cliffside, tying a sturdy knot and dangling the cord into the misty depths below. He took hold of the rope, preparing to slide down into what looked like the infinite abyss.
"I know it looks scary, so I'll do you all a favor and go first. You're going to want to slide down until you're about ten feet above the ground, and then swing back to build momentum. Then simply jump off, and… try not to break anything. Until then, whatever you do, don't let go of the rope!"
And then he was gone. The mist obscured everything in our field of view, and there was no way to see under the cliff beneath us. Eventually, there came a grunt of effort below us, and the rope tensed before going slack. A light thud echoed through the caverns.
"See? It's easy-peasy, I know you can do it! Who's next?"
Zuko and I looked at each other for a tense moment. I brought my fist to my face-up palm with a roguish smile: a challenge.
"I accept!" Zuko held his hands in the same gesture.
"Air, Water, Earth, Fire!" We chanted in unison, striking our palms with our fists.
"Since WHEN does Air beat Earth?" He grumbled, stomping toward the rope as I reveled in my small victory. I wiped the grin off my face and whistled a tune when Zuko shot me a withering glare.
He hopped off the cliffside, rope secured around his arm and leg. I heard Iroh cheering for him as he descended, and when the cord went slack again I knew he'd done it successfully. Whatever it was.
I'd postponed the inevitable long enough. It was my turn now.
Breathing shakily, I held onto the rope for dear life and inched toward the edge of the canyon. I chanced a look over my shoulder into the unknowable chasm below. There really was nothing down there.
I could not grip the line very well with the new prosthetic; the material kept wanting to slide like water right out of my metal hand. Shit. I hated heights. My heart hammered in my scarred-over throat.
I fumbled with the rope some more, but wasn't able to get a proper handhold no matter what I did. Lowering myself down carefully was simply not an option.
"Do I have to?" I bitched down to my friends.
"Suck it up, Aihiro!" Zuko shouted back.
"He means to say, we believe in you!" The General corrected.
I braced myself to go flying down the rope like a goddamn firepole.
"Ah, fuck it ." I said, and swung myself off the ledge.
Iroh and Zuko were pictures of grace compared to how I came down: screaming and picking up momentum uncontrollably.
"Remember to swing, Aihiro!" I heard the General call from somewhere nearby. "I'll tell you when to sto—oh. Well, you're past that point now."
" AAAAAH!!" I replied.
I caught a glimpse of an earthen platform against the side of the cliff where the two stood, then I flew right past it. I plummeted farther and farther into the chasm. The rope was running out.
What do I do? What do I do?!
I screeched like a banshee and let go, punching the air under me. Twin blasts of fire erupted from my fists and I felt my descent slow to a stop. I inhaled slowly. My heart calmed down a smidge and the flames raged harder.
I kept this up just long enough to rocket myself to the edge of the platform, where Zuko grabbed my hand right as the streams of fire began to stutter. I scrambled onto solid ground with a death grip on Zuko's wrist. He sat down beside me, not letting go just yet. He was too busy laughing.
I flopped onto my back and lay catatonic until I could make my heart stop beating so erratically.
"General," I spluttered between gasps. "Never… take us on… insane, death-defying field trips… again. Please."
"Hey, don't look at me. This was my nephew's idea." Zuko abruptly stopped laughing and glared at his uncle, who threw his hands up in surrender.
He turned back to me, helping me to my feet. "Nice clutch, there. Honestly, I was worried you were a goner for a minute or two."
"Thanks, Zuko," I deadpanned. "Great to know you have such deep, undying faith in me."
He almost laughed again, and for a split second he was the boy I knew and loved for as long as I could remember. But then he forced his face back into a glower. Zuko straightened, turned around, and jerked his head, indicating I should follow him.
"Come on. We have work to do here."
The Western Air Temple was breathtaking, now that I could breathe. Ancient buildings carved out of stone hung upside-down from the cliff overhang above; a gravity-defying city ensconced in the mountainside. The mist didn't reach the structures and instead acted as a shield, obscuring the sacred ground from outsiders.
Zuko, however, wasn't up for sight-seeing like the General and I were. He got right to searching every corner of the ruins for signs of life—signs of the Avatar. Meanwhile, me and Iroh had found a massive Pai Sho table and were setting up a game.
"He's different. You've noticed that, right?" I brought up meekly, laying out my side of ornate little tiles.
The General nodded, furrowing his brows. "My nephew is in a lot of pain, Aihiro. The last time he expressed mercy and kindness, he was punished most severely…"
"... So now, he's channeling his emotions into rage," I finished his thought. I cursed under my breath.
General Iroh moved the first tile and hummed sagely. "Zuko thinks that being aggressive and violent will get him into the mindset his father wants him to have. But I can tell he's forcing it. He's playing a character—and not doing a very good job of it. Like that awful theatre troupe on Ember Island."
"I've gotta talk to him. Get him to see what he's doing, and that it's not helping anyone. He's never gonna heal at this rate." I moved my White Lily tile into the red quadrant. He quirked an eyebrow at my aimless strategy.
"If you believe you can get through to him, I'll help you in any way I can. My nephew can be, how do I put this lightly… A real piece of work."
He maneuvers a White Lotus piece to block my next move. I grumble in frustration.
"I would say you're the same way," I grit, "but you've taught me better than such poor sportsmanship."
The old man guffawed. He'd encircled my tiles, declaring himself the winner in about two minutes flat. Again.
"Now, if you can learn self-control in the face of defeat? Then it is possible Zuko can do the same."
"I would take offense to that if you weren't completely correct."
"Precisely. Just… Don't give up on Zuko, is all I ask you, Aihiro. If he opens up to anyone it'd be you. I think it will take some time, and a lot more patience than I should ask of you," he looked at me sheepishly, "but he needs someone his age to connect with. My guidance can only go so far."
"I'll do what I can. I don't like watching him spiral, either."
Later, the General and I found Zuko standing at the edge of the platform, brooding.
"You didn't find anything, did you," he stated. It wasn't a question.
Zuko growled. "Don't patronize me, Uncle."
"I wasn't trying to, my apologies."
We stood there, taking in the landscape. The mist sprayed over our faces and cooled our skin. Zuko picked at the bandages over his eye.
"What a stunning view," Iroh mused. I hummed in agreement.
"The only view I'm interested in seeing is the Avatar in chains."
"You don't even have depth perception right now, my guy," I quipped, mouth turning up at the corner. I didn't look over at him, but I could feel him burning a hole through my head with his gaze.
"You know, the Avatar hasn't been seen in a hundred years. The chances of finding him here are very slim."
Zuko ignored his uncle. "First we'll cFUCK each of the Air Temples. Then we'll scour the world, searching even the most remote locations until we find him."
I sneered. "Speak for yourself."
"Prince Zuko—it's only been a week since your banishment. You should take some time to heal and rest.
"What else would I expect to hear from the laziest man in the Fire Nation?"
I elbowed him hard in the ribs at that comment. That was uncalled for, you bitch. General Iroh sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"The only way to regain my honor is to find the Avatar. So I will. If I have to, I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying to capture him. I know it's my destiny to find him."
"You know, Prince Zuko, destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out, but if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday."
Zuko spent long hours brooding on the Wani on the way over to the Northern Air Temple, and would only come out to spar with me and the crew.
"If he does catch the Avatar," I said one evening over tea with Iroh, "and I'm not saying he will —would that bring an end to this war? Would the other nations surrender, or would they only be incensed to resist the Fire Nation even harder?"
He sipped his ginseng. "The Avatar is a symbol of balance among the four nations. He will not support the war effort, that is for sure. I don't know what my brother plans to do with the Avatar once he has him, and frankly, I don't want to know."
"Maybe he can change his mind about the war. Convince him to stop the fighting and let diplomacy resume. It's his job, isn't it? To resolve conflict and bring peace?" I poured myself another cup of tea with enough sugar to make Iroh flinch.
"I wish I could be as optimistic as you are, my child. But I have no reason to believe that Firelord Ozai is anywhere but past the point of no return. He will most likely either kill the Avatar, or keep him prisoner indefinitely."
I looked at Zuko, who was throwing punch after flaming punch on the upper deck. I could feel the heat he radiated from here. He was burning up his anger for fuel.
"I… I can't let Zuko capture him." The General raised his eyebrows at my words, almost choking on his tea. I gave his back a few thumps. "We can't tell him that he shouldn't do this, it's the only thing giving him hope right now. But if he succeeds… I can't imagine the consequences. And I don't want Zuko to be a part of that, regardless of his intentions."
Iroh was silent, eyebrows furrowed. "So, you're going to do what, now? Distract him every time he gets close to finding him? Talk him out of it?" His tone wasn't judgemental, but he had a point.
"I don't know. I guess we'll find out when the day comes, won't we?"
The day didn't come when we arrived at the Northern Air Temple some months later. At least the place was reachable by climbing up, not down. Again, Zuko split from the group to scour the place top to bottom.
This time, I also went on my own to explore the ancient ruins. The Northern temple was structured like three big castles conjoined by rope bridges. I hated ropes, so I elected to stay within the one building we arrived at the base of.
It felt… hollow. And wrong . The corridors were well-lit in the afternoon sunlight, but lifeless and empty.
"What're these…?" I pondered, tracing a singed patch on the wall. There were more of them to follow the farther down the hallway I went: the aftermath of a struggle with firebenders. Or possibly a fireworks display gone wrong.
Please be fireworks, I prayed.
The pieces of charred rubble and scorch marks on every surface were clustered at the end of the corridor. An open doorway stood there, sunlight streaming through. I made my way to it and poked my head inside.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Skeletons of at least a dozen Air Nomads lay strewn around the room, all blackened with charred clothes. The pit in my gut deepened when I saw just how small many of them were.
The Fire Nation had cornered them in here, and massacred them all.
I retched at the thought, and went running back to where General Iroh was waiting for Zuko and me. He stiffened and whipped towards me when he heard me crying for him.
"You—you have to come see this," I stuttered. "There were dozens of them… they were blackened like charcoal… even the kids…"
I tugged his sleeve and led him back to the Agni-forsaken room. He paled, stricken by the sight before us.
"Is there… is there anything we can do? I don't want to just leave them here…"
Iroh placed his hand on my shoulder. "We can give them a proper burial. It's the least they deserve."
I nodded and ran outside, getting right to work excavating grave after grave. Tears clouded my vision, and grief for the countless lives lost at the hands of my ancestors clouded my thoughts.
Those people were innocent. They didn't even have a military. Weren't the Air Nomads pacifists? Did they even fight back? Were they even given a chance to?
I lost count of how many holes I had dug. Night was falling by the time General Iroh returned, carrying a body wrapped in cloth. There were many more to come.
One by one, we brought out each skeleton (I wished I knew their names) and laid them down to their final resting places (maybe it was for the best I didn't). That was when Zuko returned, pissed off as ever until he saw us and stopped dead in his tracks.
"Wha—is that…? Have you been—?" he stammered, color draining from his face. We could only nod solemnly as he put the pieces together.
Iroh left to fetch another body, and Zuko followed wordlessly, jaw set in a hard line. The two came back a minute later, each with a bundle in their arms.
That night on the Wani was quiet. Zuko retired to his quarters early, looking angry and shell-shocked. I was angry, too.
"I wish we could've marked their graves," I mentioned softly, the moon high in the sky. "I wish we knew their names. What lives they lived. It isn't fair. They don't deserve to be forgotten."
"But at least we did the right thing," the General said, looping a warm arm around my shoulders. "Their spirits can rest with dignity, now."
"We owe them more than that. They deserve vengeance," I growled, shrugging out from under his arm and pacing around like a caged animal. "We murdered them all where they stood! An entire civilization, a great one, wiped out! All for this, this worthless ," I kicked the bulkhead—inscribed with a Fire Nation insignia, of course —angrily with a loud clang.
"Fucking!" Clang.
"War!" Clang.
My foot collided with the metal wall at a bad angle and I went down hard on my tailbone, seething in pain.
In a moment of wrathful clarity, I palmed the topknot sitting at the crown of my head. The ribbon held the symbol of the Fire Nation.
I saw red. Like fire; like bloodshed; like war. I heard the screams of children and soldiers alike rattling in my skull. Screwing my eyes shut, I rejected it all.
"Damn this place to hell," I hissed, and with a swipe of my pocket knife the topknot was lopped off. I stormed to the front of the Wani and chucked it as far into the ocean as I could.
I screamed myself hoarse and then dissolved into quiet sobs. Iroh held me through it.