A/N: Hello. Lord Winterman here. I know I'm supposed to be working on the Apocalyptian Saga, but my mind has a tendency to generate and/or refine ideas at a near constant rate (mildly hyperbolic), especially when I am trying to focus on other projects. At any rate, this story wanted to get started a little earlier than I had planned. It may still be some time yet before it gets off the backburner, but in the meantime, here's what I have so far.

50 years since Hundred Year War's end

Spirit World

The familiar sensation of entering the spirit world washed over Aang. Rising from his meditative stance, he stood up to get a better look at his surroundings.

"Hullo, Avatar." Said one of the spirits passing by.

"Hello." Aang answered. It had been a while since he had last been to the spirit world, but the spirits still recognized the Bridge between Worlds on sight. They were remarkable beings. If not for his duties in the human world, he would have loved to spend more time exploring the spirit world and working with its people.

Today, he was one of the rare opportunities he had to relax and indulge himself for a change. Time to investigate something that had caught his attention the last time he had been the spirit world. Watching a flock of brightly colored squirrel-bats take flight, he climbed down into the forest.

The trees and vegetation reminded him of the Swamp. Its atmosphere was heavy and the creatures were few and far in between. Some of the trees whispered amongst themselves as he passed. Gradually, the path he was trying to follow became clearer and straighter.

"Thank you." Aang said politely.

As much as he hated to admit it, Aang knew he was not as spry as he was in his prime. Granted, some of his past encounters had contributed to that, but that did not change the fact that even walking around Air Temple Island was draining at times. There was only so much that the spirit world could alleviate.

Turning his thoughts to his present task, he realized he had finally arrived at the place of his curiosity.

A simple waterfall with a smooth surface, almost as if it were glass. It reflected perfectly, without a single disturbance to disrupt the image before him. He could see all of the bags and wrinkles age and the life as the Avatar had levied onto him. He remembered the tales of how long some of the past Avatars lived. If he were being accurate, he was well over one-hundred; the bags were not entirely out of place. Roku had greyed and aged much faster, for reasons Aang never could pinpoint.

Still, spending one hundred years in ice made the years he had experienced feel short. Not that he regretted it. True, he had made some mistakes, but when he thought about what he and his friends had accomplished, his time with his family, he would never take it back.

The reflection before him shimmered ever-so-slightly, showing someone different sitting opposite of him. The person was shrouded in shadows, but was tall with broad shoulders.

Both Aang and the person in front of him stood up in unison, reaching for the surface of the waterfall. The liquid began to glow, and with a brilliant flash of light, disappeared. Now standing on the opposite side of the mirror, Aang turned around, finding that the waterfall had disappeared. The man behind him was dressed in the garb of various cultures, but the Fire Nation was featured most prominently. The sword that was slung over his back gave off an odd feeling.

"I thought I would never see you again." The man said, turning to face Aang.

His face looked hauntingly like a man Aang had fought long ago, a man he knew to be dead. But one feature marked him as the man he knew as his friend. The ever-present scar, a burn inflicted on a boy who had made the mistake of speaking out against the plans of a megalomaniac. Some other scars marked his face, ones that Aang was not familiar with. He looked older, too, rougher skin and a full beard that reminded Aang of Uncle Iroh.

"It's been a long time, Aang."

Aang smiled. "What are you doing here, Zuko?"

"Wondering." he replied, almost sadly. "Remembering. The last time I saw you was almost ten years ago."

Realizing what he was seeing and what his friend was saying, Aang sighed. "You're not the same Zuko I know, are you?"

"No."

A pang of disappointment hit the pit of Aang's stomach, but he quickly shook it off. "What is this place?"

"I asked some of the spirits about this place. They called it the Window between Worlds. I had hoped to find some answers to my questions. Perhaps you could help me?"

"I don't know. What's it like in your world?"

"It's hard. The worlds keep trying to fall apart and there aren't enough people trying to keep it together."

"I know how that feels. So where am I in your world? How come you couldn't ask me in person?"

"Last I heard, you were off at the Southern Air Temple. Rebuilding the Air Nomads has been a tough road. That's pretty much where…you have been spending all of your time. "

"But what about the duties of the Avatar?"

Zuko let out a mirthless laugh. "You passed that on to me a long time ago. No, I am Avatar Zuko."

Book One: Change

A Different Path

Year 99 since Sozin's War Began

Zuko groaned as he threw the covers off his bed. Even in his ship with a steady source of warmth, not to mention his firebending keeping him warm, he could feel the cold of the Antarctic air waiting outside. Still, he went about his morning routine. After doing a hundred hop-squats, he drummed out the same number of push-ups. By then, he was warm enough to continue getting dressed.

Years of searching through hostile territory made wearing armor almost a necessity, regardless of whether or not they thought there was no-one there to see them in the first place, much less possess the courage to attack an armed Fire Nation ship, however small.

Food was delivered to his quarters. He did not care much for mingling with the crew. He had his quest and their duty was to serve him. There was no need to work on his relationship with them, though his uncle disagreed.

Regardless, the sailors bowed, giving the young prince his space, or as much space as the tight quarters of the ship allowed them to. Wordlessly, he passed them, eyes set towards the top deck. As usual, Uncle Iroh had taken his usual spot already, leaning over a game. A pot of tea sat within reaching distance of the man, trailing steam into the cold air.

"Good morning." the older man said graciously. Zuko's grunted reply made it known how much he wanted to talk as he continued on. He stood at the bow of the ship, even as the wind cut through his clothes and into his shaven scalp, still waiting for the sign, whatever it might be, that would tell him when the quest had reached its conclusion. Day in, day out he would look out to the horizon, rain, wind, or snow, hoping, reminding himself that he was one day closer to reaching his goal. Giving up would be worse than dying. It would be like ceasing to be for him.

Every place he had looked for the Avatar had been empty. Everyone they asked laughed, or if they were courteous, remind him that no one even remotely matching what they were looking for had been seen in almost a hundred years. His great-grandfather had seen the last of the dead-ends as far as the Air Nomads themselves went. It was possible that this mystery Airbender had forsaken his culture in effort to remain hidden, but that would mean that any one of the people he had encountered could be the Avatar.

Zuko clenched his jaw tightly, grinding his teeth.

"You might want to avoid doing that, Prince Zuko." Iroh said. "It will ruin your teeth."

Endearing as the old man was, Zuko found his uncle's antics a bit much at times, as was his constant fretting over trivial things. Were it not for his council, tutoring, and ever-present support, he probably would have tried to throw him overboard. The fact that he was his uncle and a powerful firebender in his own right was further deterrence.

Standing at the bow, eventually the young prince would shuffle or begin pacing. He would sit for a while or go back into the ship briefly to warm up and then repeat the process, always hoping; hoping that somehow, he would succeed where his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had failed.