Zuko stood in front of the mirror, his pale, slender fingertips toching the horrid, wrinkled burn scar on the left half of hif face. The scar deeply contrasted against his porcelain skin. Like a dried puddle of blood on snow. He hated the mark. The sign of his unworthiness. He hated the angry, raised mark. Yet in the back of his mind he could hear a voice whispering that he had deserved it. He hated it. He hated it all. He was banished from the closest thing to a home he had ever had. Now he had nothing. No place to go, no one who cared, nothing.

His purpose for living was gone. The Avatar had been killed a year ago. Ozai murdered him, shooting him with lightning, directly through the young air bender's head, before he himself died. Azula had been crowned Fire Lord. The fire nation had little strength left, but it was enough. She banished him, and had Iroh executed. He was no longer welcome in the Fire Nation, nor was he welcome in any other nations because he was a fire bender.

He had no where left. He had finally gotten over his honor, realizing he no longer had a reason to live. He laid on the cold hard ground of the forest and simply waited for death to take him. It kept eluding the prince however. He wanted to die. At least death offered him solace. He could see his mother again. Death was the only thing that welcomed him. When he lie there waiting for endless sleep, he would think. He thought about all the things in his life he wished he could have changed. Telling his mom not to leave when she told him goodbye, joining the Avatar instead of his sister back in Ba Sing Sae, chasing the Avatar for all those years. Betraying the young healer…

That was one of his biggest regrets. The girl. She had slowly opened up to him, an enemy, and had begun to trust him, even offered to 'heal' him, and he had still betrayed her. He could remember her eyes most of all, The open earnesty she showed him when she had offered to heal him, the watery sheen of tears that covered them when she realized he had joined with Azula, and the glare of pure malevolence when she realized her stupidity in trusting him, her enemy. The beautiful blue eyes. The beautiful healer. Her aqua blue eyes and tan skin. He would never forget the beautiful young woman. He couldn't. She had been the first to show him any compassion since his mother had left. He laid there, thinking of her, and waiting for death.

This night as he laid there on the cold forest floor, a thought, unbiddened, came to his mind, 'I want to see her again'

And suddenly, he had a reason to live. He had a drive. He had to find her.