Chapter Text
“It is your sixteenth birthday, Prince Zuko!” Iroh declared happily. “Maybe we should dock nearby and celebrate at a nice restaurant, or with a friendly game of Pai Sho…”
Zuko ground his teeth together, hands gripping the railing of the ship with his usual brand of poorly-restrained anger.
“There is no cause for celebration, Uncle.” He spat, staring out at the open sea. “It’s been three years of constant failure.”
“I think some relaxation would be good for the search,” Iroh suggested, folding his hands over his stomach. Zuko spun around to face him, rage and frustration lining his face.
“I don’t need relaxation, I need to find the Avatar!” He shouted, fire flaring up across his arms. Flames rolled off of his body and fell to the metal floor of the ship like water off a turtleduck’s shell, where they flickered a moment longer and then disappeared. The prince scrubbed at his arms angrily, patting out any remaining flames. He hadn’t meant to do that.
“Perhaps it will do some good for your control as well.” Iroh hummed, shielding the concern in his eyes with a good-natured smile. Zuko practically growled at him, feet widening into something reminiscent of an almost-fighting stance. Iroh didn’t react. This was pretty typical of their arguments, and he knew the Prince wouldn’t actually attack him. Well, most of the time. Not in this sort of situation, anyway.
Zuko huffed angrilly, and a plume of fire blew with it. He looked startled by this, and fell out of his rooted stance. Iroh was especially worried, now. As angry as he got, his nephew was very good about maintaining control over his fire. It was one of the things he took the most pride in, a sentiment that Iroh shared. For him to seemingly have lost all of that control was… worrying, to say the very least. It appeared that the day was bothering the Prince more than he was letting on.
Zuko rubbed at his left eye, the scarred flesh stiff and wrinkled against his hand. He itched, all of a sudden. He’d felt odd since the morning, like he didn’t fit in his own skin, but nothing like this. It was as though someone had taken the knob of his discomfort and dialed it up to fifty.
The prince stepped away from the rail of the ship, itching at his face and arms with increasing fervor. Agni’s light beat down on his armored form, making him feel hot and stuffy in a way he hadn’t ever felt on the Wanyi before.
“I’m going to my quarters.” He managed, already unclasping his chestplate as he stumbled towards the ship’s interior. Iroh didn’t bother to hide his concern, now.
“I will get the ship’s medic–”
“No!” Zuko interrupted, uncontrolled fires bursting from his palms. He yelped as they caught his underclothes, punching them out as quickly as they came. He shed his armor soon after, dropping it onto the deck with a heavy clank and wiping his face free of sweat. He itched with more than just discomfort, now. It was hot, burning, boiling under his skin.
Iroh watched in rising horror as his nephew began to shed fire like sweat, drops flaring and rolling down his bare skin. The boy whimpered, a pained noise that ripped itself from his throat against all his efforts. Then another noise escaped, and another, and another.
Soon enough, he began to scream.
Nearby crew members rushed on deck to see what was going on, and Iroh sprung into action.
“Get water!” He bellowed, voice loud and demanding in a way it hadn’t been for some time. The crew scattered. Iroh was by his nephew’s side in an instant, reaching out to comfort him, but the intense heat rolling off the boy’s skin had him drawing away.
Firebenders, contrary to their fiery nature, tended to run cold. It prevented them from overheating with the power of their inner flame, balancing out their qi. At the moment, Zuko was overheating – but not by the hand of his own fire.
No, this was something more intense, more powerful, more hot than anything Iroh had ever seen before. Agni’s light seemed to triple in intensity as Zuko’s blood began to bubble underneath his skin, flesh sizzling audibly.
Iroh desperately tried to siphon the otherworldly heat away from his nephew’s body, but it was constantly expanding, growing, heating up faster than he could cool it down. Zuko’s screaming grew hoarse, choking, painful, and then –
He stopped, mouth open, utterly silent. He raised his flaming hands to claw at his neck, apparently not even noticing the heat from the fire billowing from his scorched palms. His melting nails scraped against his loose-fitting skin, ripping it away to reveal the angry, dripping red blood-meat-bone below. Magma flowed from his eyes and nose and ears, burning black trails into the flesh that was beginning to slip off his skull. He choked, hunched in on himself–
A stream of fire and boiling bile and white-hot, liquid rock splattered from his mouth onto the deck, its pure heat denting the metal, and Iroh had barely a second to step back before Zuko went up in a column of pure, rainbow dragonfire.
“ZUKO!” Iroh screamed. He stared at the blaze of flames as it spiraled up, up, up into the sky, meeting Agni’s rays halfway like an old friend. Beside him, Lieutenant Jee threw a pail of water onto the fire. It evaporated before it could even touch the licks of white and green and purple and orange that flitted through the flames.
The column collapsed into itself a moment later, leaving behind nothing but a heavily-dented metal deck and a pile of silvery-orange ashes. Any sliver of composure Iroh might have had left was gone now, as he wailed along to the litany of why him, not again, why him, – and, selfishly, why me – thrumming through his body.
The ship was silent, save for the choking sobs that tore through the old man – once uncle, twice father – as he mourned the sudden loss of yet another son. He’d failed, again. The Spirits did not see him fit to save anyone.
Above him and the silent, staring crew, the last of the black smoke dissipated into wispy threads that lined the clouds with thin trails of ash.
Zuko was not a particularly religious person. He believed in the Great Spirits, yes, and knew to respect them, but he was not as spiritually involved as someone like Uncle, for example. He had never been to the Spirit World, nor had he even seen any Spirit, but there was no other explanation for what stood before him now.
A sky that almost hurt to look at, flooded with colors he’d never even imagined could exist, and clouds that bulged with something that was not quite water, not quite air. The yellow and blue trees surrounding him stretched tall, tall, tall above him, frozen branches twisting towards him in a manner that was half-caress, half-attack. The grass was warm, almost uncomfortably so, its gentle sway reminiscent of water lapping at his bare feet.
He looked down. He was wearing a plain outfit; a nondescript tunic and loose pants tied at the waist. A tickle at the back of his neck told him that his hair had fallen from its phoenix tail, hanging loose in an isolated clump. A rustle in the grass pulled his dazed eyes back up to his surroundings.
A young woman stood before him. She was tall, dark-skinned, dressed in shades of red and gold and brown, and her eyes burned like pure fire. Zuko felt his breath catch in his throat and stay there.
All of a sudden, he snapped back into sharp awareness, stumbling back into a fighting stance.
“Who are you?!” He demanded, feeling his qi course through him in preparation. The woman smiled, all teeth – made of gold. It sent his heart plummeting towards the ground, and he yelled as he punched out towards her with his qi.
Nothing happened. He tried again, bringing one leg up in a kick meant to accompany a wave of flames – nothing happened.
“What did you do?!” Zuko shouted, shifting into defense. If this was the Spirit World, and he was left with no defense except for his own fists…
The woman did not stop smiling. “I am Agneyi.”
Daughter of Agni. Zuko blinked, blood draining from his face as Iroh’s voice yelled distantly in the back of his mind. He’d attacked the daughter of Agni. Well, tried to, in any case.
He fell to his knees and bowed until his forehead was pressed to the ground, trembling minutely. This was it. He’d disrespected yet another of Agni’s children, and now he was going to pay for it again. He was as good as dead.
– itching, burning, magma flowing from his mouth –
Shit. He was already dead, and this was probably going to be some horrible punishment that would leave him in agony forever.
“Rise, Prince Zuko. I will not harm you again.” Agneyi’s voice said above him. It was oddly crackly, but warm, like a campfire. Zuko did as he was told, but kept his head bowed.
“You do not know why you are here.” Agneyi said. Zuko nodded, miniscule. The goddess hummed. “You know of your ancestry?”
A beat of silence. He took that as a cue to speak.
“I am the son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai.” He said simply. Agneyi hummed again, affirming.
“You are great-grandson of Sozin,” She added.
“Yes.”
“And great-grandson of Avatar Roku.”
“What?”
Zuko’s head snapped up to stare at her, dumbfounded. Agneyi’s smile was full of gold, and her eyes flared with light.
“Great-grandson of the Balance-Breaker and of the Spirit-Bridge. You are the only of-age unity of Vaatu and Raava, and will fulfill your destiny as such.” Balance-Breaker?
“That– you’re wrong. You have to be wrong. My destiny is to capture the Avatar and restore my honor! The Fire Nation will win the war, and the world will be balanced because of it!” Zuko said with fiery determination, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Agneyi observed him for a moment, silent.
“You have no honor to restore, little flame.” She said. Zuko felt small, all of a sudden. Here was a full on Spirit, telling him to his face that it was impossible for him to restore his place on the throne. It was impossible for him to make up for what he had done, to recover all that he had lost.
“Shut up!” He snapped, smothering the painfully cold ache in his chest with a wave of fiery rage. “You’re wrong!”
“And you are dead.” Replied the goddess, her smile falling into something more severe. “Spirits do not lie – you know this. Your Uncle has taught you. Do not disrespect me.”
Zuko flinched, shoulders hunching inwards. Her tone reminded him so much of his Father’s, in that moment, and his scar flared with phantom heat. He had failed. He had failed.
A familiar numbness snuffed out the flames surging over his heart. He would never see Father again, never see Uncle again. Unless… unless he gave in. There had to be a way to get back to the Physical World, even as a Spirit, and he wasn’t going to find it on his own. He needed to be useful to this Spirit for as long as he could, and learn how to get out along the way.
“I accept my destiny.” Zuko grit out, stone-faced. He would be the perfect tool, and as soon as they trusted him enough to leave him alone, he would make his escape.
The Ibis was Zuko’s first teacher, meant to educate him on the nature of Spirits and their Worlds, customs, and powers. He led Zuko to a fold in the Spirit World, framing him with his large wing and guiding him step by step into the next layer. The Spirits’ plane of existence was full of odd corners and thin, slippery entrances and exits that divided its many spaces. It was difficult to traverse if you didn’t know where they were and how to get through them safely, and getting lost was both the easiest and most dangerous thing that could happen to a clueless being – especially a human.
Because fuck Zuko’s life, actually. This whole escape plan was going to take a lot of time.
“Names have power.” The Ibis said, its long beak overlooking the tumultuous ocean below the cliff face they had emerged onto. Spirits roamed the waters, some swimming, some flying, some stepping over waves as if they were made of solid earth.
“I know,” The prince replied. “Of course I know names have power – I am the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation.” (was, was, was– said the traitorous voice in his ear– he never wanted you)
“You misunderstand, little flame. You will learn with time.” The Ibis’ voice was not unkind or even particularly critical, but Zuko’s lips pressed into a thin line regardless. He hated teachers.
The dragons lent him new fire, and the first thing he did was try to fight them with it. Laughing, one of them trapped him under its paw and breathed a green-yellow-pink flame over his face. He screamed, struggled, screwed his eyes shut against the anticipation of pain – but all he felt was a warm breeze.
The only fire he’d ever known was painful and angry, burning red-orange-yellow-blue and nothing else. He said as such when they let him free, demanding to know how they had broken that mold.
Fire is life, Said a large black dragon, white mane flowing in some invisible wind. You have known life, and you have known death, and you have known the Space-In-Between. Find the difference.
She gave him a purple flame in the shape of a fire lily that licked warmly at his palms, harmless. In a moment of weakness, he remembered Uncle: Fire comes from the breath.
He drew his simmering rage to his chest and blew onto the softly flickering flower. The edges caught an orangey-yellow tinge, beginning to curl inwards like a burning leaf, and Zuko could feel it heating up in his hand. The flower fell apart into nothing but red embers and heat, even as he tried channeling his anger and qi into fixing it.
He looked up from his empty, burnt hands. The dragon stared back, impassive.
The Ibis taught him about the source of bending, about the Spirit Guides and their gifts.
“The Avatar is the only bender without a Spirit Guide,” He told Zuko, as they sat under the purple-orange-teal sky of a flower field. “They are a self-source of power. They care for the balance of bending bonds and that of the Spirit and Physical Worlds and the Space-In-Between, and they draw their power from that balance in order to maintain it.”
Zuko frowned. “How do you know he wants to keep the balance, then? What if he’s just stealing all of its power for himself?”
The Ibis laughed, an airy sort of noise. “The Avatar depends on the balance. They cannot survive without it, and it cannot maintain itself without them.”
“But he’s in hiding. He hasn’t been seen since the beginning of the War.” Zuko pointed out. “And clearly there’s still a balance being maintained, because the Fire Nation is working to help the rest of the world find it.”
There was no visible reaction from the Ibis at that, but the prince got the distinct impression that he was disappointed.
“Why did you take me here, anyways?” Zuko bit out, digging his fingers into the soft ground. It felt like sand, which didn’t make sense, because they were sitting in the middle of a swamp. His pants were soaked through with the damp, grainy mud. Agneyi smiled at him again with those bright gold teeth. It wasn’t friendly.
“You will learn how to maintain the balance in the place of the Avatar.” She said simply. Zuko blinked.
“Why didn’t you just let me stay alive, then? Maybe tell my Father to unbanish me so I could actually carry out his will? How do I help spread balance if I’m not even in the Physical World?!” He shouted, anger beginning to bubble over in his stomach.
Agneyi laughed, crackling and threateningly warm. “You have much to learn, little flame.”
“Just tell me what I need to know, then!” He screamed, punching the muddy floor for emphasis. The Spirit just kept smiling, and her teeth bled gold like fire.