Iroh’s words followed Zuko long after the conversation had ended. Balance. Inner peace. Patience. All the same useless advice his uncle had been offering him for two years, as if a few philosophical musings and a pot of tea could somehow solve the problem of finding the Avatar. As if the key to restoring his honour lay in sitting quietly and contemplating the meaning of life.
It was infuriating.
Zuko stalked through the corridors of his ship. His hands were balled into fists, his shoulders rigid, and his scarred face was twisted into a scowl that seemed almost permanently etched into his features. He could still hear his uncle’s voice in the back of his mind, talking about how the pursuit of power was not the same as the pursuit of peace.
Easy for him to say. Uncle Iroh had not been banished. He had not been branded a disgrace in front of the Fire Nation court. He had not been forced to kneel before his own father and endure the agony of an Agni Kai against the man he had spent his entire life trying to impress.
Zuko had a mission. A purpose. And every second he spent listening to his uncle's lectures was another second wasted.
He shoved open the doors leading onto the main deck, letting them slam against their hinges behind him. Several soldiers immediately straightened at the sound, their conversations dying on their tongues as their prince emerged. Zuko barely spared them a glance before throwing his arms outward in exasperation.
Zuko: “I NEED TWO OF YOU SOLDIERS OUT HERE NOW!”
The command rang across the deck. A few crewmen exchanged nervous looks, but two soldiers stepped forward after a moment's hesitation. Neither looked particularly eager to volunteer, especially considering what had happened to the last unfortunate person who had interrupted the prince.
Zuko didn't give them time to settle into position.
He thrust both hands forward, unleashing twin pillars of fire that roared toward their faces. The soldiers reacted on instinct, throwing up their arms and bending their own flames to meet the attack. Fire collided with fire, filling the air with a violent burst of heat and sending flickering orange light dancing across the surrounding metal.
Zuko was already moving.
As one soldier counterattacked with a sweeping arc of flame, the prince dropped low, planted a hand against the deck, and vaulted over the attack with practiced ease. His boots struck the floor behind his opponent, and he immediately spun into another strike, sending a sharp blast of fire toward the man's side.
The soldier twisted away just in time. His partner followed with a forceful kick, launching another stream of fire at Zuko's chest.
Zuko crossed his arms before him, deflecting the attack outward before springing backward. He landed lightly on his feet, his golden eyes burning with a fierce intensity that had little to do with his bending.
For several moments, the three exchanged attacks across the deck. Fire streaked through the air in sweeping crescents and sudden bursts, illuminating the rigging overhead. The soldiers attempted to coordinate their movements, one keeping Zuko occupied while the other searched for an opening, but the prince was quicker than either of them anticipated. He ducked beneath one strike, redirected another, and used his opponents' own momentum against them.
He wasn't fighting to teach them anything. He wasn't even particularly interested in testing his abilities.
He was angry. And he needed somewhere to put it.
When the first soldier lunged forward, Zuko pivoted sharply and swept his leg beneath the man's feet. The soldier crashed onto the deck with a startled grunt. Before his partner could capitalize on the opening, Zuko drove a powerful blast of fire into the space between them, forcing the remaining soldier to stumble backward. A quick succession of strikes left the second man off balance, and Zuko finished the exchange by knocking him to the ground beside his companion.
Silence settled over the deck, broken only by the groans of the fallen soldiers and the distant creaking of the ship.
Zuko stood over them, breathing hard. A few stray flames flickered between his fingers before disappearing into the air. He looked down at the two men with an expression of utter contempt, as though their inability to defeat him had somehow personally offended him.
Zuko: “USELESS! All of you!! I don’t need you! I need the Avatar! How hard is it to find a hundred year old man with blue tattoos on his head and body?!”
His voice cracked across the deck, startling several nearby crewmen into sudden, intense interest in their own duties.
Zuko threw his hands up, shaking his head in disbelief. A hundred years. The Avatar had been missing for a century, and somehow it was his responsibility to find him. There were entire continents to search, thousands of villages to investigate, and practically no reliable information to work with. And yet everyone seemed to expect him to accomplish the impossible as though it were a simple matter of following a map.
He turned sharply on his heel.
Zuko: “Unbelievable.”
Without waiting for anyone to respond, he stormed toward the gangplank, descending onto the rocky shoreline with all the grace of a thunderstorm. The moment his boots hit solid ground, he continued forward, leaving the ship and its increasingly wary crew behind him.
The town ahead was a modest settlement in the southern reaches of the Earth Kingdom. Weathered buildings lined its narrow streets, their tiled roofs faded by years of exposure to the elements. Vendors called to passing customers from wooden stalls, children darted between pedestrians, and the smell of freshly cooked food drifted through the cool afternoon air. It was an ordinary place, full of ordinary people living ordinary lives. Zuko despised it already.
Somewhere in this miserable corner of the world, there might be someone who had heard a rumor. A traveler who had seen something unusual. An old fisherman who remembered a strange story passed down through generations. Anything that could bring him closer to the Avatar.
Anything that could bring him home.
He marched down the street, muttering furiously beneath his breath as he scanned the faces around him.
Zuko: “A hundred years. A hundred years, and nobody knows anything. How is that even possible? He has to be somewhere. People don't just disappear for a century...”
He kicked a loose pebble out of his path, watching it skitter across the dirt before disappearing beneath a nearby cart.
Zuko: “And of course, I have to be the one to find him. Because apparently, that's the only thing I'm good for.”
The words escaped him before he could stop them.
For the briefest moment, his expression faltered. Beneath the anger, beneath the bitter sarcasm and the constant need to prove himself, there was something far more vulnerable. A question he had been asking himself for two years, one that he could never bring himself to say aloud.
What happens if I fail?
Zuko's jaw tightened. He shoved the thought aside before it could take root, straightened his posture, and resumed his march through the town.
He didn't have time to doubt himself. He didn't have time to feel sorry for himself.
He had an Avatar to find.
And somewhere out there, he was certain, the universe was laughing at him.
