Chapter Eight:
The End

When he finally turned away from the sight of Aang floating in the air, controlling the entire ocean without even lifting a finger, Zuko realized Katara's healing water was still wrapped around his leg, and he was not feeling any of it. It shone in the evening light, bright blue as ever, but none of the usual coolness sank into his leg.

Katara looked laboured. Her voice was faint as she let the glow die, "It was still fragile even before this happened. Everything's shifted and the chi lines are practically gone. I don't know if there's much more I can do."

The magnitude of her words set in slowly. The numbness in his leg became a lot more malignant. Zhao, still utterly trapped behind him, made a half-choked snarl that might've been a laugh, but Zuko was still too out of it to notice.

"Okay," was all he managed to say. "Okay."

If this had been him just a few weeks ago, he would have fought and denied and clawed his way upright just to prove she was wrong. That's what he did when Zhao captured him. That's what he did when he'd first gotten banished.

This time though, there was no rejection, no self-loathing, just a simple acceptance. He'd fought for something he'd believed in and for people he cared about, and getting injured for that, was, in some ways, a mark of honor. No matter what, he still had his uncle, his friends, and a gnarled wooden cane to help him on his feet.

Sokka's hand fell on his shoulder, and with his help, Zuko managed to stand upright, though leaning heavily on his friend. The blue tide was receding, Aang was making his way to the ground, and they turned to the Northern Tribe's gathering hall, where most of everyone seemed to be making their way.

"Wait," Yue said, before they hobbled forwards, "I have an idea."

She turned back to the other side of the bridge and beckoned them to follow her. Slowly, with a generous amount of help, Zuko stumbled his way back to the oasis where they left him to sit by the grass. In the water, two koi fish circled each other in tandem, eyes glowing with silvery light. He didn't know what that was about, but he was in too hazy a mind to ask.

Yue stooped down to touch the water, which still hummed faintly with power. "The Spirit Water. Maybe that can help."

Fresh hope lit up Katara's face, and she quickly kneeled by the water's edge. The water barely touched his skin before an icy cool sank into his bones and up his veins. When the scar on his calf faded completely, Zuko couldn't help but smile.

After the last spears were laid and ash stains cleaned, a celebration was in order. Casualties, though the worst attack in the tribe's recent history, were light. The city had taken a number of blows, but nothing that couldn't be rebuilt.

Tonight, music laced the air. The smell of meat roasting and seaweed stewing wafted in the breeze, mingling merrily with the sounds of laughter and the hum of conversations. Condolences were given, eulogies read, and stories of battle retold in vivid detail. His own battle, the Battle of the Oasis as it came to be called, was on the tongues of more than one person that night. Protecting Aang, as well as the koi in the pond, was a pivotal moment. If either of them had come to harm, Aang might not have been able to seek aid from the spirits to end the battle.

As if he could hear Zuko reminiscing, Aang popped up besides the table he was sitting at and offered a smile.

"Zuko! I heard what happened; about Zhao, about your leg, about everything!" He said, then peeked down to try and catch a glimpse at his leg. "Is it really healed?"

"Yeah," Zuko answered.

"For good?"

"Yeah. For good."

Aang heaved a sigh, "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. It's been eating me inside from day one."

"Why would you blame yourself for that?" Zuko asked.

"Because I left you there," he said solemnly.

Zuko almost laughed. "I was trying to capture you, and that's what you regret?"

A smile lit up Aang's face. "We've come a long way from that, haven't we?"

A somber smile reached Zuko's face. Barely a month ago, he'd been trying to capture Aang, hadn't even know his name. He would have given life and limb to have the Avatar in his grasp, to go home to a father that sentenced him to death. Barely a month ago, he'd never been indebted to a waterbender and an Earth Kingdom girl for healing him, he'd never met a Fire Nation deserter or a flying mechanist or a waterbending master. He'd never flown on a sky bison or limped forward with the aid of a cane. With the aid of friends. Yes, he'd certainly come far.

"I just wanted to say thanks. Thanks for giving us a chance," Aang said.

He shook his head, astounded. "I really think I should be saying that to you." The airbender just shrugged. "So thanks. For everything."

The thanks was burdened with so many moments, from the rescue at Pohuai, to helping him heal, to pushing him to stand on his own again. Aang seemed to understand that. He said his goodbyes and wandered off to find others, giving Zuko the space he needed.

Though content, Zuko had never been one to enjoy the uproar of a party, so he stalked off in search of a quieter corner of the city. Glancing back, he saw that Aang had apparently mustered up enough courage to ask Katara to dance, Sokka and Yue were exchanging shy glances from across a table, his crew was in high spirits over whatever fermented drink the Water Tribe had given them, and the night couldn't have been anymore perfect.

He stared off into the rolling sea, before Uncle came to stand besides him. "Why be lonely on a night like this?"

"I just wanted a moment of quiet. A lot's happened in the last few weeks," he said.

Uncle was thoughtful. "It has not been an easy journey for you. But you've found your way, and you've done it all on your own." Iroh laid a hand on his shoulder. "I could not be anymore proud."

"Thank you, uncle."

Despite himself, a few tears almost sprung from his eyes. As far as he'd gotten in the past few weeks, he wouldn't have gone half as far if it wasn't for help. If it wasn't for so many people: Aang, Katara, Sokka, his crew, Uncle, even Song and Teo.

Iroh asked, "What do you plan on now, nephew?"

"I don't know," he said. It was the natural thing to say, the answer he'd had when he asked himself that question in the past. Except this time, the moon was smiling down on that perfect night, laughter was filling the air, and an answer was making its way into his mind.

The prison was dim, but warm and clean, nicer and with more amenities than Zuko had ever been given during his time behind bars. Prisoner after prisoner sat hunched in their cells, soldiers from the day before that had been stranded and forced to surrender. They stared back at him with less than glad tidings.

One particular cell made him stop. A shadow cast over the man, who sat stooped at the floor of his cell. He'd only been there a day, but he'd grown disheveled, with eyes glinting craze. Defeat hit him worse than imprisonment ever could.

"What are you doing here?" Zhao growled.

"Making sure all the prisoners are treated well. More than you ever did for me," Zuko muttered.

"You came here to mock me," his eyes were fiery, "Go ahead and try. You might've won today but you're still a pathetic traitor in my eyes. The entire nation knows it."

"You're the one who sent your soldiers into a deathtrap. You're the one who tried to kill the moon spirit. And you call me the traitor?"

Zhao sneered. "You'd never understand."

"No. I don't think I will."

A frown twiched on the admiral's lips, before he plastered on another cruel grin.

"What do you plan on doing now? Twisting that knife you stuck in your nation's back? Will you join the Avatar? Will you skip around the Earth Kingdom on that sky bison? Will you teach the Avatar your pathetic excuse for firebending?"

Zhao meant it all in mockery, but Zuko leaned towards the bars and said, "Yes. I think I will."

Zhao might've tried to hide it, but his eyes had gone wide for a second, not expecting that answer, or the surety he'd answered with. Desperate, he was desperate to keep his hold over him, even from behind bars.

"You traitor. You'll never make it. You'll never go home. No matter what you do now, they'll never let you back!" Zhao cackled."You're trapped."

Zuko looked down at him almost piteously.

"You're the one in a cell, Zhao," he said, "I'm free."

The certainty in his voice rung like a bell. Nothing left to say, Zuko turned and walked back out into the winter light, which seemed warmer than ever before. Zhao had stopped laughing. Despite all the chains and cells and arrows and scars, Zuko was finally free.

AN: And so ends this humble story. Yes, this is really the end, yes, this is exactly where I want it to end, no, I won't be continuing it. This was Zuko's story of evolution, and this is where it ends. (I'm going to cross-post this on AO3, so there /might/ be some edits there)

Self reflection time!

I started this story because I wanted to try some new things with writing. For once, I actually wrote an outline that went all the way through the entire story. During the actual writing, I challenged myself to just sit down for half an hour and write, almost non-stop, with no skipping parts (though I broke that challenge in the last chapters). This was completely alien to my old way of writing, which is usually writing dialogue and important parts first, bouncing around, and mulling over every sentence.

So, end result, I found it pretty fun. Personally, I found some of the chapters sub-par for my standards. The flow was a little bumpier and I found emotions coming out less subtle than I would've liked. However, it was nice to have a bit more slack with my writing for once. I am content. I also got to hear from so many of you, and I'm just happy you liked the story! Thank you all! I'm sorry if you expected more, but ending the story here has always been the plan. I'm not leaving this site anytime soon, though, so watch out for anything new from me!

-Mano :D