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The Air Army was crazy. There was no other way to understand these long-gone people than by the ruins of their home. And their home was crazy. Only crazy people would build upside-down buildings under a clifftop. Absolute insanity!
Zuko said as much to Uncle as they followed a steep cliffside staircase down to the insane buildings. Uncle had to be contrary. He argued other nations found living on volcanoes to be an act of lunacy. Other nations were uneducated and inferior to the ways of the Fire Nation, of course, but Zuko had to drop the argument when part of a step crumbled beneath his feet.
It should have been a small stumble, if even that. Zuko caught himself, or maybe Uncle caught him, but the world continued to spin as if he fell off the edge of the cliff. Nausea overcame Zuko as he failed to convince his stupid body he wasn't falling. Distantly he heard Uncle urging him to take deep breaths, but the adrenaline rushing through his panicking body made it hard to follow the suggestion.
Of all the circumstances following Zuko disrespecting his father, this was what upset him the most. It was ridiculous. Zuko was banished, stripped of his position as crown prince and unable to return home, but what brought him closest to tears since he woke up was the unfamiliarity he felt in his own body. No wonder Father was ashamed of him; he could barely walk down a flight of stairs without help. He was so weak! How was he going to capture the Avatar when he was so pathetic?
The nausea passed, but Uncle kept a firm grip on Zuko's arm as they continued down the stairs. Zuko wanted to shout, to claim he was fine and didn't need help. But he was weak. He was too weak to win against his dizziness. He was too scared to walk this treacherous path without Uncle holding him steady.
They reached the end of the staircase on a platform overlooked by three towering statues. Zuko shook off Uncle's hand. He forced himself to walk steadily as he surveyed their surroundings. It was easier to take in the Western Air Stronghold and the canyon housing it while standing on a flat surface.
Impossible, was all Zuko thought as he stared at the endless drop down and the buildings defying gravity. Everything about this place was impossible, yet here it was in front of him. Where better to begin his search for the impossible than a place that turned such things to reality?
"Such a stunning view," Uncle mused from behind Zuko.
Zuko glared at the cliffs. He couldn't get caught up in the sights as Uncle would. Uncle was fun, good for escaping Azula and finding a peaceful moment within the palace. They weren't in the palace anymore. Zuko didn't have time for a peaceful moment. Doing anything like Uncle was a sure path to never complete his mission.
"The only view I'm interested in is seeing the Avatar is chains."
Uncle stepped closer, his voice uncomfortably gentle as he spoke. "You know, the Avatar hasn't been seen for a hundred years. The chances of finding him here are very slim."
I know that! Zuko wanted to snap in response. He wasn't some idealistic child who believed this task would be easy. Father chose something so difficult because he wanted Zuko to prove he was worthy of regaining his honor.
"First, we'll check the Air Strongholds," Zuko said, stepping away from Uncle. "Then we'll scour the world, searching even the most remote locations until we find him."
"Prince Zuko, it's hasn't been long since your fever broke. You should take some time to heal and rest," Uncle kept speaking in a gentle voice. It cracked, almost sounded desperate.
Zuko hated how much Uncle cared. That soft voice made him want to listen, want to take a moment and give in to his weakness. He was so tired. It took weeks and the majority of the ship's crew to comb through the island for the Air Stronghold. Zuko had been of no use in the search, unable to keep up nor walk straight the first day. The climb down was the most activity he managed so far. The mere thought of having to climb back up made Zuko want to sit down and cry.
Those kind of weak thoughts were why Father sent him away. He needed to stand tall and keep going till he regained his honor.
"What else would I expect to hear from the laziest man in the Fire Nation?" Zuko snapped, whirling around to spit Azula and Father's words about Uncle. He had to push Uncle away. Uncle couldn't taint him with more weakness. "The only way to regain my honor is to find the Avatar. So I will."
Once Zuko's fever broke, Iroh thought he would be able to breathe again. Zuko overcame the most dire part of his injury. While recovery would be a long road with many challenges to overcome, Zuko already bested death and Iroh would not have to fear for his nephew's life. It had been a foolish thought.
First, there was trying to make Zuko slow down and allow his body to heal. Zuko did not nap so much as he passed out several times from sheer exhaustion as they searched for the Air Temple. He refused to accept assistance; did not seem to realize just how unsteady his steps were. Iroh lost count of the times he had to steer Zuko away from a tree or nudge him upright as he started tilting to the side.
Perhaps—perhaps—if the search lasted for a week longer, Iroh's poor aging heart would have had the time to recover. And yet. Even after Iroh encouraged the crew to take their time, Zuko himself was the one to discover the forgotten temple hidden under the cliffside. There was no convincing Zuko to wait. So Iroh's poor, poor heart had to hold up against the fear of losing his nephew once more; this time to the threat of sheer stubbornness and a lethal drop.
It took all Iroh's willpower to stand back as Zuko methodically searched through the vast buildings of the Western Air Temple. More than anything Iroh wanted to haul Zuko back to the ship and force him to rest. Iroh also knew if he attempted such a thing, he would lose Zuko's fragile trust. Thus, Iroh had to breathe through his racing heart every time Zuko lost his balance or stood too close to an open ledge.
"Prince Zuko, we've yet to take a break all morning. My knees would appreciate a respite from all these stairs! Would you like to take this moment to join me for some lunch?"
His dear, expressive nephew's thought process was clear as the beautiful day around them despite the bandage obscuring half of his face. There was the initial desire to say yes, followed by some form of self-admonishment. Then his brow scrunched in thought. Iroh smiled serenely as he sat on the base of a broken pillar. With an annoyed huff, Zuko put on a scowl and dropped to the ground in front of Iroh.
"I'll eat, since you're getting the food out. But I'm not waiting around for you to waste an hour drinking tea."
"Good tea must be savored, as should good company," Iroh said with exaggerated dismay. It earned him a disgruntled teenage eye roll, yet another thing to be savored. His mulish, young nephew was still there behind the layers of hurt and layers of anger to hide the hurt. "Now do your tired, old uncle a favor and fill my kettle with water from the fountain."
Zuko looked around with a start, only now noticing the small bubbling fountain which had prompted Iroh to call for a break. He snatched the kettle as he stood. "Yeah, sure, let's use the hundred-year-old fountain water to make tea. What could possibly go wrong."
Volume control was one of many things Zuko needed to work on as he recovered, so Iroh pretended he did not hear the loud mutterings. Despite his misgivings, Zuko still accepted a cup of tea when offered.
They ate in relative silence—Zuko deep in thought and Iroh watching him. Iroh suspected something was weighing on Zuko's mind. At first, Iroh believed it to be disappointment at the lack of useful findings. Yet the air around his nephew did not carry despondent energy of despair. It was heavy with contemplation. Zuko ate his lunch efficiently, hardly seeming to taste it, but lingered to stare at his cup.
Iroh had already tried several times to coax Zuko into opening up, but perhaps he would be lucky this afternoon.
"Is there something on your mind, Prince Zuko?"
"Uncle, do you- Have you- This place-" Zuko glared at his tea. He threw his head back to glare at the ceiling. "There's a lot of statues of the same lady, aren't there?"
Iroh knew of only one woman the Air Nomads would erect multiple statues of. "Ah, I suspect that would be Avatar Yangchen. Understandable there would be so many. She was highly regarded in her time, and her people continued to regard her as an exemplary figure long past her death."
"What?!" Zuko jerked his head upright, fast enough it made Iroh's neck ache in sympathy. "But- but that had to have been at least 500 years ago or something if she were the previous Air Avatar! The Air Army really had no one else to look up to besides some ancient figure? Weren't they supposed to be an elite militaristic society? Where's the statues to commemorate more recent warriors? Why are all these statues just sitting there? Where's the glory, the honor?"
Had it been these thoughts plaguing Zuko? The royal tutors and Ozai never gave credit to the insight Zuko's empathy granted him. It would have been easy to walk through these ancient halls and fail to see the story of its past inhabitants. And yet...
"Honestly, where's anything in this place! I haven't seen a single room or space that would be conducive to sparring. We found that dumb giant pai sho board before we found any weapons! I mean, yeah, it's been a hundred years, but surely there would still be swords or- or- something! There aren't even any signs of battle in this place! Everything looks broken from age."
Here was his brilliant, observant nephew who saw the remnants of a peaceful society and understood them. Would the prodigious Azula been able to recognize the signs? Would she have cared enough to interpret them, to compare them to the knowledge she possessed of the supposed Air Army?
Zuko took a deep breath. His knuckles turned white from how tightly he gripped his teacup. Now that the flood gates had opened and his thoughts were aired, there was no stopping until they were all out.
"Did the airbenders abandon this place before Fire Lord Sozin's army showed up? What kind of warriors were they not to take advantage of this ridiculous building in battle? It'd have been so easy to just blow firebenders off the ledge! Not- not that I'm saying I hope they did that. Of course it's good the Fire Nation won, but it just doesn't make sense. This entire place is literally upside down in every way conceivable!"
For all Iroh admonished Ozai for failing to see Zuko's intelligence and strengths, Iroh had underestimated his nephew as well. He failed Zuko once more, which left him sorely unprepared for this conversation. Iroh thought he had more time to gently dismantle the propaganda and lies of Zuko's education. It was too soon for Zuko to accept the truth, even when he had nearly uncovered it himself. His entire life had been turned around. To add the truth of the Fire Nation's war on top of his recent banishment... Iroh feared what direction it would drive Zuko toward.
"You pose very interesting questions, Prince Zuko," Iroh said. He slowly poured himself another cup of tea, smelled the vapors, savored the first sip. The image of a lazy, old man helped greatly when one had to stall for time as their mind frantically tried to figure out how to proceed. "Hm... Where should I begin..."
Zuko groaned and knocked back the last of his tea. "No, forget it Uncle. None of it matters. The only useful history right now is of the previous Air Avatar. Maybe if I can study her, it'll help me find the current one. What do you know about her?"
Relief and guilt swirled in Iroh's gut. Was it for the best to set aside the genocide of the Air Nomads for another day? Was Iroh making the wrong decision in letting Zuko turn away from the facts he discovered by himself? Iroh reasoned the seed was planted, and the conversation would go better in the future...
"I'm afraid most records of Avatar Yangchen's achievements have been lost to time. From my understanding, she was very successful in her role as the Avatar. Under her direction, the world found a peaceful balance that has not been seen since. If you recall records of Fire Lords Shaohao and Haruo, the prosperity in their reign was in part thanks to Yangchen. Also-"
"Thank you for sharing your knowledge, Uncle," Zuko interrupted as he stood. "I think that's all I need. If she was the Avatar when Fire Lord Shaohao was on the throne, that means she was the Avatar who got Princess Akari killed. I doubt any of the tales the airbenders-" He spat out the word in disgust. "-spread was truthful with an Avatar like that. I'm going to continue my search. Enjoy your tea."
"Stay inside until I join you, please Prince Zuko, for my peace of mind!" Iroh called after Zuko, who raised a hand in what Iroh hoped as agreement.
Iroh sighed. It seemed all he could do these days was make mistakes. Had he managed to disrupt the wedge of doubt in Zuko's mind by drawing attention to what the royal family viewed as Yangchen's betrayal? Well, Iroh was no stranger to mistakes, nor the regrets and doubts that followed them. He drank his tea and began plotting how not to fall prey to such an oversight again.
"In the 58th year of Fire Lord Sozin's rule, he led the Fire Nation in victory against the Air Army. What event gave the Fire Nation advantage over the airbending militia?"
Heavy smoke made it difficult to breathe, to think. Children tried to bend the black air out of the room, but fire blocked the only path to clean air. The royal tutor smacked Zuko's hands with his cane, unbothered by the surrounding carnage.
"You shouldn't have to think about this, boy!"
Azula leaned back in her chair, laughing at Zuko. "Come on Zuzu, it's so easy! How else would we wipe out an entire civilization than with a firebending boost?"
The smoke worked its way through Zuko's lungs. He drowned in thick, putrid air. A baby wailed with its last breath. It drew Azula's attention away from Zuko. She surveyed the children dropping to the ground in disgust.
"What, do you feel sorry for them, Zuzu? This is why Father thinks you're weak. It was them or us!"
But why?
Zuko could breathe again, but the heat was unbearable. Firebenders kept a steady blaze on the solid door barring them from the children hidden inside. Uncle sat near the inferno with a cup of tea.
"Firebending comes from the breath, Prince Zuko. What's a greater threat to a firebender than an opponent who can steal your breath from you?"
It still felt wrong. But if it was wrong... Then... Zuko clutched his head in his hands and dropped to his knees. He couldn't think that way! That was treason! He was loyal. He was going to return home in honor. He was not going to turn traitor.
"Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!"
This wasn't a battle. There was no honor in fighting opponents who had no chance of surviving. They were just children.
"Have you still not learned your lesson?"
Zuko looked up. The flames engulfed his father's figure and cast him in shadows. No, no, no, not again. His father reached for his face.
The ground dropped out from underneath Zuko. He fell away from his father and the inferno, but he did not escape the flicker of flames. This was a different fire, though. It did not want to hurt him. It danced around a small dragon. The dragon raised its head.
Are you leaving without me, Zuko?
With a strangled gasp, Zuko woke. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. The white noise of his racing pulse drowned out all other sounds. It was dark, but Zuko felt the rough fabric of his bed against his skin. This was his room on the ship. He was safe.
Zuko sat up and fumbled for the pitcher of water next to his bed. The dream faded faster than the adrenaline rush. He remembered only fragmented pieces of the horrors his mind conjured, but they were enough to keep his pulse from calming.
Ever since they discovered the room full of too small Air Army mummified corpses, nightmares plagued Zuko's sleep. He couldn't wait to get away from this place in the morning. The stronghold had been a complete waste of time. There was nothing useful to find. Only doubts and misery.
The ship creaked as it gently rocked with the waves. Zuko hated the constant swaying. His equilibrium was messed up enough on its own; being on the water put him more on edge. There was no way he was getting back to sleep like this. A quick walk would help burn off this restless energy. It was better than staring at the ceiling and obsessing with the way his room moved around him. Only, the ship moved no less as Zuko crept past the meager night watch.
Zuko wanted everything to stop moving.
He was getting off this dumb boat.
His feet brought him halfway to the Air Stronghold before Zuko's mind caught up. He was cold; unused to the dry, chilled air so unlike his home. In his haste to escape his nightmares, Zuko had forgone putting on shoes. Now his toes were paying the price. It was only going to grow colder as the night progressed. Zuko should head back to the ship.
But the thought of returning twisted Zuko's stomach. He had to do something before they left this island for good. Zuko forgot it and had no idea what it was. This was stupid. Uncle was going to be furious if he found out about this...
Zuko did not turn around.
Traversing the path down the cliffside at night was possibly the dumbest thing Zuko could ever do, but unwavering confidence left no room for fear. He would be fine. It was a clear night and the moon illuminated the canyon in its pale reflection of the sun. Zuko knew where his wandering feet were taking him as the moonlight struggled to reach him. Deeper and deeper into the hidden recesses of the stronghold he went, till darkness surrounded him. The dark didn't bother Zuko like it used to. He lived half shrouded in it these days.
Finding these hidden passageways carved into the cliff had filled Zuko with so much hope. He had been so sure there would be some hidden trove of knowledge to help him find the Avatar. All they found were the children, locked away from their element for a century.
Zuko didn't want to be here. He didn't want to think about the day he spent helping Uncle move the bodies to an open courtyard. He didn't want to be reminded of his inability to help cremate the mummified remains. And yet here he was, wandering through the black hallways, unable to summon a flame to light his way and unable to turn around to leave. It hurt to be here again. It was right to be here again.
Why was he here again?
This was stupid. So unbelievably stupid. It was hard to shrug off the darkness as Zuko realized he had no idea where he was. The dark suffocated him like the smoke from his nightmares. What if Zuko was lost? Would anyone think to check on him before they sailed off? What if they left him here and Zuko never found his way out? Would he be forgotten for a century as well?
Fire. All he had to do was make some light, and then he could find his way out. His breath was too short to create a proper flame. Zuko had yet to try bending since he woke from his fever. He had been doing his best to ignore the reason why that loomed on the edge of his consciousness.
It was impossible to ignore when it was the only thing blocking him from escaping the dark.
Zuko was afraid. He was afraid of summoning his flames. He was afraid of being lost in darkness. Pathetic. He was pathetic and would die here in his inability to do anything. Father was right. Zuko was a coward. Father had been merciful to banish Zuko; merciful to give Zuko a chance at redemption. And now, Zuko was going to squander Father's mercy away in his cowardice.
The ground gave out from beneath Zuko's feet.
Pain hardly registered in his panicked mind as he fell on a hard stone floor. The darkness was gone, but fire was next to his face. No, no, no, not again! Zuko scrambled away from the light, eye squeezed shut. His back hit something solid, and he ducked around it to get away from the flames.
Slowly, Zuko's panic abated as his breathing evened out. Cold tendrils of shame trickled down from his bandaged face to the scuffed balls of his bare feet. Azula wouldn't have feared the dark. She wouldn't have panicked at the mere thought of lighting her own path. Zuko curled into himself, resting his head on his knees. Stupid. He was so stupid.
Continuing to sit here and berate himself wasn't going to fix anything. Zuko breathed deeply and pushed himself to his feet. A statue stood between him and the light source which contributed to his dumb freak-out. It was unlike the countless statues adorning the Air Stronghold architecture. This woman stood tall and proud, nothing like the meditative poses of the other statues. Her hands came together in front of her, cradling fire. She did not possess any airbending tattoos. Her hair was pulled up in a traditional Fire Nation topknot, the headdress of a crown princess holding it in place.
Zuko stepped back, rubbed his eye to assure he was seeing correctly. He looked around the room he fell into. Behind him was a small door without a handle. Above him, he saw the black abyss of the hallway he had fallen from. What was this place?
A carved inscription on the base of the statue drew Zuko's attention. He crouched to the ground once more to make out the old characters.
Princess Akari
Wielder of the Gentle Flame
Beloved friend
Honored firebending master
The final string of characters were unknown to Zuko. One of them meant 'heart' or 'center' depending on the context, but the rest were either outdated or unique to the people of the Air Army.
Nothing about the statue or the inscription made sense. Uncle said the previous airbending Avatar was the reason the Fire Nation lost Princess Akari. The royal tutors never went into depth about how it happened, but everyone knew the day the princess died was the Darkest Day in Fire Nation history. The princess's life went out with the sun and the ability to firebend. It was the Avatar's fault.
Zuko always assumed the Avatar killed Princess Akari. Of course the Fire Nation could never trust the Air Army or the Avatar after that! Princess Akari had been beloved as the crown princess and would have been a Fire Lord like no other. Zuko loved stories about Princess Akari. They said she was blessed by the dragons. They said her fire was special; it could soothe any pain. They said despite her kindness, she was a fearsome warrior. Anyone who could rip such a wondrous person away from the Fire Nation had to be evil.
This monument to the princess was not something an evil murderer would build. This was a monument built out of respect and love. It didn't belong deep in an Air Army stronghold. Unless their Avatar did not kill her. Unless their Avatar had been just as hurt by Princess Akari's death as the Fire Nation had been...
Great, just great. One more thing piled on to the mountain of confusion over everything he was ever taught. Why did he come back to this stupid building full of stupid contradictions?
The light behind Princess Akari's statue beckoned to him.
Zuko rounded the statue. Fire roared in a stone brazier. A dragon's body created the base, it's outstretched wings housed the strong flames. The fire was obscenely large for such a small room, but Zuko did not feel any of its heat. Flickers of color danced in the blaze, so fleeting Zuko was unsure if he imagined them or not. He stepped closer, then braced himself for a wave of panic that never came.
This fire was not going to hurt him. Zuko took another step forward.
Colors flickered in the flames again, but now Zuko saw the iridescent stone cradled by the fire and reflecting its light. He moved closer for a better look. The rock's texture looked like scales. It was a perfect oval. It looked a lot like an egg.
Zuko's breath caught and his heart beat faster in his ear. It felt so much like his previous fear, but without the chill of terror in his bones. His body was warm, energized. Anticipation. This was anticipation. His hand moved of its own accord for the flames. They danced across his skin with the warmth of the midday sun. Zuko dared not breathe as he reached for the egg. His fingertips touched the scaled surface and-
Nothing happened.
Of course, Dum-Dum. Even if it was a dragon egg, did you really think it would hatch just because you touched it? A voice that sounded suspiciously like Azula berated in the back of his mind.
Yeah, yeah, it was dumb to let himself think that way. Thanks Azula. Zuko snorted at himself and flattened his palm against the egg-shaped stone. It was expertly carved; the scales were smooth and uniform. Zuko reached into the fire with his other hand. The gentle warmth enveloped his whole body. He picked up the stone for a better look.
The brazier went dark.
Darkness did not descend upon the room.
The egg emitted a warm golden glow. No mere rock could do that! An inscription lay beneath the egg on the bottom of the brazier. Zuko stood on his toes to read.
I entrust to you the destiny Akari was never able to fulfill. -Yangchen
Zuko stepped away and held the egg close to his chest. What was that supposed to mean? Why was the Air Avatar protecting the legacy of a Fire Nation princess? None of this made sense.
A warm breeze blew through the room.
Find your freedom, Nephew.
"Uncle?" Zuko called out tentatively to the hole above him. No response called back. His mind was playing tricks on him.
Zuko looked down at the egg in his arms. It was time to get back to the ship, anyways.
A soft knock pulled Zuko out of his slumber.
"Prince Zuko? It's rather late. Would you care to join me for lunch?"
"Give me ten minutes, Uncle," Zuko said groggily as he sat up. Had he really slept through the morning? The midday sun streamed through his window, confirming the time of day. It was unlike Zuko to sleep so late-
Zuko frantically jumped out of bed to survey his room. It wasn't here! Had it all been a dream? But it had felt so- The knot of his bed sheet glowed. Zuko untangled the material and heaved a sigh of relief as he uncovered his egg.
Father tasked him with finding the Avatar. But maybe, just maybe that was not all Zuko was destined for. He ran his hand along the smooth grooves of the egg with a giddy smile. There was nothing wrong with having a second mission, right?