A/N See profile page for DisclaimerTM and a general overview of the work

Chapter 1 Kindling

Early Autumn, Year 1 of the reign of Fire-Lord Ozai

"But why a sword uncle?" young Zuko asked.

The two figures sat on either side of a low stone table in the middle of the palace garden. The boy who had spoken was thin and pale, with dark hair and yellow eyes. His uncle, Iroh, was a short powerfully built man, with dark circles under his eyes as though he had not slept well for a while.

"So, you don't want one?" asked Iroh, pretending confusion. "I suppose we could just put your gempukku training off for a few more year-"

"NO!" shouted Zuko, horror showing in his face. "I just don't understand why I swear my oaths with a sword? If I can firebend why should I need a sword?"

"Is a samurai defined by his bending then?" his uncle retorted.

"No Uncle, a samurai is defined by Bushido and by his honor," Zuko responded by rote.

"So, teaches the dojo of Lion, yes," Iroh said smiling gently, "and what oaths do you take as a samurai of the Lion, prince of the Fire-Nation and child of the line of Akodo?"

"To uphold the honor of my family, my nation, and my people. To serve the Fire-Lord, long may he reign, and to protect the people of the Fire-Nation," Zuko chirped back in the manner of a child repeating a long-known truth.

"For how long?" queried Iroh, cocking one bushy eyebrow.

"…What?"

Iroh just raised his other eyebrow, shrugged his shoulders and began sipping his tea, humming softly to himself. Zuko, despite only having his Uncle as a sensei for a few months, knew this meant that he had probably already been told the answer. Iroh would sit, happily waiting, sipping his tea, with excruciating patience, while Zuko dredged the answer up from memory.

Zuko was aware that he was not very bright, at least not in comparison to his younger sister Azula. His sister, and often even his father, had made certain he was aware. For the most part he didn't mind this and endeavored to make up for his lack with a methodical, dogged persistence and, as his uncle Iroh observed, with sporadic flashes of vicious cunning that was more than a little reminiscent of his father and grandfather.

After a solid minute of musing, wracking his brain, Zuko answered. "I do not know uncle."

"No? They no longer ensure that you memorize your oaths of fealty? What are they teaching children these days?" Iroh grumbled without any real anger. "When I was a boy I was made to recite my oaths while hung by my toes and birched for every word out of place!"

"Were that the case I would imagine you would be taller Uncle," replied Zuko wryly.

"That would be true were I not as clever as I am handsome," Iroh said jovially. "Obviously my brother took longer to learn it." Zuko's father was tall, much like his father had been.

Zuko blanched. "We should not speak of the Fire-Lord that way uncle, he does not tolerate-"

Iroh waved him away. "My apologies, my prince. I spoke out of turn," he said bowing gravely where he sat. "Your honored father is an admirable Fire-Lord, certainly much better than I would have been." He forced himself to smile, disguising a pain not even Zuko was unobservant enough to miss.

The two of them shared a silence as Zuko allowed his Uncle to grieve again for his lost son. It was known, far and wide, that Crown-Prince Iroh, eldest son of Fire-Lord Azulon had lost his mind with grief over the loss of his only son, Lu Ten, during the great siege of Ba Sing Se. After learning the news, he had thrown himself at the at the Earth-Kingdom Soldiers, slaughtering hundreds, until a lucky strike had snapped his leg. His troops had extracted him, and when he awoke his fury had been replaced by a deep and desperate sadness. Claiming that he would lead no more sons of the Fire-Nation to their deaths in this war he ordered the siege lifted and resigned his command. It was said that this so enraged Fire-Lord Azulon that he named his second son Prince Ozai, Zuko's father, as his successor. Then had passed away from apoplexy the very next day.

Zuko silently wondered what it must be like, to have failed so utterly that he had lost his son, his crown and his father in the span of a single month. Surely seppuku would have been better than to live in disgrace like this? Zuko couldn't help but feel pity for the old man, a feeling accompanied by disgust and more than a little guilt.

Uncle Iroh should have at least declared himself a deathseeker and died, serving his father and avenging his son through battle, thought Zuko in a voice which sounded a great deal like his father's. Instead, he ran away, crawled back home to live in indolence and dishonor.

Despite all that, and all that he had been taught, Zuko still felt pity. He liked his Uncle, had liked Lu Ten and grieved for him as well. It engendered a practical maelstrom of conflicting emotions that was simply too much for a nine-year-old to process, so he shelved it and waited patiently for his Uncle, as was polite.

Iroh shook his head and looked up, startled to have drifted away on his young pupil. "I must apologize again my prince, I seem to have gotten lost in my thoughts. Old age you know." He smiled ruefully.

Zuko shook his head feigning ignorance "But I must thank you, Uncle, for your patience with this unworthy student, but I still cannot recall the exact wording of the oath of fealty." His formal words allowed his uncle peace of mind, pretending he had not been a witness to what should have been a private act of grief. Zuko's mother, before her sudden and inexplicable disappearance, had made sure that Zuko and, to the best of her ability at least, Azula had learned courtesy.

The lady Ursa's disappearance was another thing Zuko was unable to process. His mother had been a constant presence in his life until he had turned seven and began his training in earnest. She was gentle and caring, her very presence made Zuko smile. Even when he had been battered and bruised, exhausted and sick of his training, a simple smile from his mother had been enough to make him square his shoulders and continue on. She could calm Azula in her tantrums, she made him forget how bad he was at firebending, she even made his father smile, something he almost never seemed to do otherwise.

But now she was gone, and Zuko had the feeling that his father wouldn't even tell him why even if he had dared to ask.

One did not question the Fire-Lord.

Iroh smirked knowingly. "Not nearly so unworthy as you think my nephew," he said bowing once more, a gesture not dissimilar from an opponent recognizing a good move in Pai Sho. He stood, and began to pace back and forth, a mannerism Zuko knew to mean he would now be giving a lecture.

"In the beginning the people of fire moved from place to place, flickering to and fro like the wildfires. It was not until the Warlord Akodo brought all the people of fire into one nation and taught us bushido that we stopped wandering and started making a better place for ourselves. Our duty is always to the Fire-Nation, it's safety our charge, its lands our home, it's people our… children." He shook his head, dismissing his grief much more rapidly this time. "This is why our oaths are to the Fire-Lord, the Nation and to Honor, with honor being the last and most important. They all flow from one to the other, you see? Honor begets good conduct, which is the foundation of the Nation. The Nation and its people are the foundation upon which the Fire-Lord stands, that he might better serve them."

"That seems odd, don't the peasants serve the samurai, and through them the Fire-Lord?" asked Zuko.

"Indeed nephew. This is the natural paradox of Bushido, to serve while being served. To command while protecting. To fulfill the obligations of duty while still showing compassion. A samurai's life is filled with such difficult and confusing choices."

"Wait, it's confusing on PURPOSE?!" Zuko shouted, all sense of decorum lost. "Why would Akodo make it deliberately confusing?!"

"Because it is in the nature of conflict to make us better. To live life unchallenged is a dull thing indeed. It is adversity that strengthens us, grants us wisdom and character. The unexamined life is… "Iroh cast about looking for an appropriate metaphor "is… WEAK TEA!" he finished, grinning, holding aloft his cup.

Zuko rolled his eyes, his uncle's love of tea bordered on obsession.

"It's too complicated," the boy grumbled, "I don't even like Pai Sho."

Pai Sho, the great game of strategy, had too many shifting rules and stratagems for Zuko's taste. What was a good play one moment could be revealed to be nothing but folly in the next heartbeat. He preferred Go, with its two colors, straight lines and its simplicity. Not to mention it was the only game he had a fighting chance of beating Azula or their friend Mai at.

His uncle's grinned broadened. "Oh, don't worry nephew we'll get to Pai Sho soon."

Zuko groaned, wincing his eyes in feigned, for the most part, pain.

"But as to the oath," Iroh began, picking back up where he left off, "I, Akodo Iroh, to swear to serve and protect the Fire-Lord, his heirs, and successors and to serve faithfully and well those they have placed above me. My body, I place as a shield against the enemies of the Nation and I will forever more serve the people of Fire with compassion, courage, and courtesy. My word is sincere, my honesty unquestioned. Above all, honor shall guide me, and with this sword," here Iroh reverently mimed receiving a katana, "I shall keep true to this oath. Even if all friendship and glory desert me. Even though the land be swallowed by the sea, and the very Sun falls from the sky."

"But why a sword? It's not as though the sun will fall from the sky and my bending disappear. It's an impossibility," Zuko said quietly staring at his own tea.

"And if it did? What would you do? If the enemy was at the gates and the Sun itself was gone? How long do you keep to your oaths?" Iroh asked. All playfulness had evaporated from him as suddenly as a lightning strike. His face, in this moment, was a dread reckoning of his father, the late Fire-Lord Azulon, and the very image of the man the waterbenders had nicknamed "the Dragon of the West"

"I guess…" Zuko was deep in thought, still looking down at the tea in his hands, and had missed the sudden change in his uncle. "If the sun disappeared... it wouldn't change anything about who I am, or what I have to do so... I guess… I would need a sword then?" He looked up expectantly at his uncle.

"Yes." Iroh grinned fiercely and proudly. "Yes, indeed."

High Summer, Year 5 of the reign of Fire-Lord Ozai

His father had not come to the ceremony.

Of course, he hadn't, not only was the Fire-Lord exceptionally busy, but it wouldn't have been appropriate. The Fire-Lord should NOT visit a simple coming of age ceremony Zuko told himself. Even if Zuko was his only son. Despite these patently obvious facts, Zuko confessed, if only in his own mind, that he was disappointed. He had felt certain that his father would have made some token appearance, playing it off as coincidence. And perhaps he had, but Zuko's focus had been elsewhere. Mostly on survival.

The gempukku trials for a firebender of the Lion Dojo were always the most difficult, made more so because he was a Prince of the line of Akodo newly turned thirteen, now the Crown-Prince. It only made sense, weakness could not be allowed to parade around claiming authority. The more authority to be wielded the more punishing the trials. Which explained why Zuko had been training for this day since he was seven years old. He remembered his Uncle describe, in great and somewhat gruesome detail, the story of Fire-Lord Yokoma's seven children. Yokoma, the great-grandson of Akodo himself, had died before his eldest son had reached the age of adulthood, so his eldest not only had to suffer through the normal, exceptionally severe trials, but additional trials as was befitting a Fire-Lord. Needless to say, he did not survive them. Neither did the five brothers after him until Matsu, who was only two at the time of her father's death, finally succeeded. The eleven-year regency was one of the longest in the Fire-Nation's several thousand years of history, but the shugenja of fire always made certain that only the worthy would be allowed to carry the daisho, the two swords of a samurai, and to lead Akodo's Nation.

The swords Zuko had been granted were old, seeming more family heirlooms that practical weaponry. At least that's what he had thought before he made the requisite thousand cuts with them. The steel wasn't shiny, it was almost a dull grey, but it was very strong and very sharp. Most of all it had a weight to it. As though it had been used for great purpose. Commenting as such his Uncle Iroh chortled his usual laugh.

"I requested those for you specifically. Those are the blades of Prince Ken-Ryu, your Great-grandfather Sozin's Uncle. The brother of Fire-Lord Oda. He is one of only eleven recorded cases of a child of the Fire-Lord born without bending."

"He was a-" began Zuko, stunned.

"Yes indeed, and in spite of that he survived all of the same trials you have just undergone," smirked Iroh. "He became a great general and established the first of our colonies in the Earth-Kingdom." Iroh winked. "And if you think HE was fearsome my Aunts Lo and Li will burn you to ash with a look, and neither of them can bend either!"

This shut Zuko up as he had felt that, even with his bending, he might have survived his trials only by the barest luck.

It was hard to really say how he had done in the trials, the first part had kept him awake for nearly three days, which had distorted his perceptions. He did feel confident that Azula would have no trouble with them, a fact which both pleased him and engendered a fair amount of envy. He would, of course, never tell her that. It wasn't as though she was lacking in confidence.

All in all, passing the ceremony made him feel… clean. As though all the things that had made him a child had been burned away in a cleansing fire. Certainly, he was taller now than he had been when he'd begun his training, but he hadn't really felt like an adult until he had spoken his oath and received his daisho. Life would be simpler now he was sure. Hold to your oaths, serve the Nation and your father, what could be simpler?

"Oh, poor Zuzu, what happened? Did you lose your bending in the trials?" a familiar voice asked as he strode through the halls of the palace.

"Azula?" Zuko said, standing stock still, his eyes narrowing. "Is playing this game wise? You should be at your studies."

This was a game that the four of them, Zuko, Azula, Mai and Ty Lee had all played since they could walk. Sneaking through guarded corridors, stalking each other like prey, until pouncing out, tapping the victim on the forehead and then running away laughing. Azula was very good at it, but surprisingly not as good as Mai. It was one of the few areas she tolerated being second at. In recent years, however, she'd taken great delight in announcing her presence and yet still remaining completely hidden. Much to Zuko's consternation.

"As if I need to listen to some ridiculous old man tell me about our glorious history," she said the sneer on her face obvious from her tone of voice. Which seemed to be coming from Zuko's left, so he placed his back to a nearby pillar and faced that direction.

"I always enjoyed history. It teaches us how to learn from our mistakes," Zuko said, scanning the shadows and a particularly suspicious potted plant.

"And yet…" came a voice from right above him, "you never do."

Zuko sagged in defeat and raised his hands in mock surrender. His sister, who had somehow attached herself to the very column he had chosen to protect his rear, executed a perfect flip, tapped him on the forehead in midair and, as always, stuck the landing.

"You threw your voice?" he asked calmly, trying to mask a touch of sullenness.

"No, not really, the buttresses in this hallway make sound behave unpredictably," she admitted rather uninterestedly as she made a production of examining her nails.

"It is good to see you sister," Zuko said, bowing. "I would inquire after your studies but I doubt you are capable of anything less than perfection."

She rolled her eyes. "Always so unfailingly polite. Mother would be proud." She bowed despite the sarcasm. "It is good to see you as well brother."

"What was that about my bending?" asked Zuko, motioning his sister to walk with him, it was nearly lunchtime and he was starving.

"The katana?" Azula said walking backward ahead of him. "Everyone knows only samurai who can't bend wear both if their swords out in public."

"Uncle wears his," Zuko said, furrowing his brow in consternation.

"Uncle is as mad as a spring moose-rabbit."

"He is not, he's just… eccentric."

"You don't have to defend him just because he was your sensei. He is a coward and a failure. He should have died taking Ba Sing Se."

"But he didn't. He tried to I think, but the spirits saw fit to grant him his life. He keeps to his honor as best he can."

"Ash and bone, Zuko" Azula swore, stopping in place, "you're starting to sound like him as well"

Zuko shrugged. "I wear the daisho because they are reminders of the work I put in, the pain I suffered and the oaths I took."

"You realize how pompous you sound right?" she said with a snort. Zuko rolled his eyes at her and continued walking. "Well," she continued, trailing after him, "my katana will be placed on a little wooden stand to gather dust after my gempukku. I prefer bending. You and Uncle can wave your big knives around like primitives and pretend it still means something."

Zuko paused for a moment. "Actually, I just thought of something Uncle said to me that you might actually find useful."

"Oh? And what is that Zuzu" said Azula her usual smirk on her face

"Well Azi," Azula stiffened at that, for all that she was happy to use their mother's pet name for him, she most definitely did not care for hers. "There are two things that come to mind, the first," and he began stroking an imaginary beard in imitation of their Uncle Iroh, "is that all warfare is deception."

Azula, now mildly furious at being lectured on beginner's tactics sneered. "And the other?"

Zuko grinned. "Teamwork is the foundation upon which all successful military operations are built."

And with that as a cue the two girls, Mai and Ty Lee, who had been shadowing them for a minute, darted from either side and both tapped Azula on the forehead. All three ran in different directions laughing maniacally. Azula gave an indignant squawk and gave chase.

Autumn, Year 5 of the reign of Fire-Lord Ozai

"Father, I…"

"Silence! get on your feet and fight me, boy"

"To strike the Fire-Lord is treason father! If I have offended you I offer my life in recompense!"

"You will fight for your HONOR!"

"Father I meant no disrespect! I only thought of our duty, to our people! Please, father, I beg you-"

"You dare? You DARE to beg in front of me? You will LEARN respect, in pain and SUFFERING!"

Then there was nothing but fire and pain.

Oh good, just a nightmare, Zuko thought waking up in the dark.

If it was just a nightmare, why can't you see? whispered a voice in his mind.

Zuko began to panic, his breathing sharp, ragged, as he timidly reached for his head.

It was covered in gauze.

He began to hyperventilate and started clawing at his bandages.

"Zuko!" came a voice from his bedside.

"Uncle?" Zuko froze.

"You must be quiet my boy, your sentence is to be carried out as soon as you awaken, by order of the Fire-Lord."

"My- my what?"

"Your father… The Fire-Lord grew very angry Zuko. He has refused to allow you to commit seppuku and refuses your entry into the deathseekers."

"Then what…?"

"You are banished, nephew. Banished from the sight of the Fire-Lord and his city. To be carried out as soon as you awaken."

"Banished? But… But... he..."

"We will speak more on this but we must hurry. I have packed our bags…"

"Our? Uncle, you can't come with me! You're already on thin ice as it is! Father will…"

"Your father will be glad to see the back of me," Iroh snapped, "and you will not survive a day without help. Be silent and get up. If you are well enough to make so much noise you are well enough to walk!" Zuko heard his uncle begin to move frantically around the room.

Zuko carefully swung his feet over the edge the bed. His head felt light, as though it was stuffed with cotton. His chest ached painfully as soon as he tried to take his feet and he groaned in agony.

He heard Iroh hiss. "Be careful boy! He broke three of your ribs, not to mention your collarbone"

It was all starting to come back to him, his father… The Fire-Lord had kicked him while he was on his knees asking, begging, for forgiveness. The horrible popping noise his collarbone had made. The Fire-Lord's boot coming down on his chest, a cracking brittle sound. The Fire-Lord was not a small man and Zuko… Zuko was only a few months over thirteen, not anywhere near to his full growth yet. Then a strike of fire, so hot it was almost white, down on his…

"I'm blind, aren't I?" Zuko said quietly.

There was a long pause. "I don't know nephew, only time will tell."

Midwinter Year 5 of the reign of Fire-Lord Ozai

The eye patch was not a good look for him.

He had had to threaten to smash his uncle's favorite teapot before he was allowed a mirror. It wasn't pretty. From ruined left ear to his unmarked nose, from missing eyebrow to jaw, nearly the entirety of the left side of his face was a dark burn, half melted. His left eye was functionally useless, or so he was assured by the doctor his uncle had brought. The doctor had also stressed that he had to keep the eyepatch on until the risk of infection went away.

It was NOT a good look.

"This is insane," Zuko said bluntly.

"I know. The fact that they want an entire koku for a small barrel of sweet northern jasmine tea leaf is outrageous. I've half a mind to burn their shop down for impudence" replied Iroh watching his teapot.

"I meant the terms of my banishment Uncle," Zuko said gritting his teeth.

"Oh. Yes. That too is insane."

"Why the Avatar of all things? Why not ask me to conquer Ba Sing Se or subjugate the Northern water tribe or… teach Azula to sing? Something slightly less impossible."

His uncle smiled. "It is good that you have not lost your sense of humor. It will keep you sane in the times ahead."

"Sane? SANE? What about this situation is SANE to you?!" Zuko shouted, furious. "I have been banished by my father for arguing with an honorless fool who wanted to condemn an entire DIVISION of soldiers to be massacred... just as a distraction!"

"Your ribs must be healing nicely if you can yell this much."

"Then," Zuko continued, ignoring his uncle, "my father half blinds me and sends me out to capture the AVATAR! Someone who's not been seen since the days of Sozin!" His voice rose in volume and pitch as he went, cracking once on "father"

Near to hyperventilation, the pain in his collar and chest still agony Zuko stared into the mirror at his mutilated face.

Iroh sat on the bed next to him gently putting an arm around his uninjured shoulder. "It would seem, nephew, that your sun has fallen out of the sky too," he said quietly.

Zuko's mouth dropped open, remembering his oaths and the conversation he'd had with this same man less than four years ago. He nodded, his face settling into a mask of grim determination.

"Guess I'll need a sword then."

"He must be dead," Zuko said a few days later.

They had moved into a new place, a small cottage, more a shack in truth, overlooking the capital, Otosan Uchi. Zuko was still forbidden entry, but not forbidden to see it. He almost wished that he was.

"Hmmm?" asked Iroh contemplating a Pai Sho puzzle.

"The Air Avatar. He never came forward to oppose Fire-Lord Sozin, or grandfather, or even you at Ba Sing Se," Zuko said musing over the scroll.

"Hrmm," grunted Iroh less pleasantly, his failure at the walled city still an unpleasant memory.

"He'd have to be over a hundred-years-old right? Surely he passed away."

"Were that the case then…" Iroh mused questioningly.

"Well... he'd be in the water tribe then?"

"Which would explain my father's policy."

Zuko looked confused. "What policy?"

Iroh shrugged and looked at him expectantly.

"Uncle we don't have time for your games! You are not my sensei any longer," Zuko said bitterly.

"When you have learned to think for yourself then you will no longer need a sensei," Iroh replied acidly. "But until that time, whatever meager instruction I can provide, I will give."

They glared at each other for a moment.

"I apologize, uncle," Zuko said slumping in shame "I should not be rude when you have done nothing but help me"

Iroh nodded. "Accepted. But you must understand nephew, this… quest will not be a sprint to the finish. It will be a marathon. The one thing you do have is time. Use it, and THINK."

"I think father does not mean for me succeed," Zuko said quietly. "I think I shall never return home."

"Nonsense!" Iroh shouted, his powerful voice echoing slightly in the valleys around their tiny cabin, "If that were the case your father would have disowned you, stripped you of your title and declared you Ronin." He paused and then continued again more softly "You will return home someday Prince Zuko. Now," he continued, his voice picking up life again, "my father's policy with regards to the Water-tribe." He gave "water" a slight inflection.

They sat in silence, Zuko thinking, Iroh sipping his tea and occasionally moving a Pai Sho piece.

"You mean, grandfather's Naval policy?" Zuko said after a long moment.

Iroh smiled. "Yes indeed. My father thought much as you did. That the time of the air nomads was good and done. He expected a water Avatar to emerge at any moment, which is why we rule the seas. The Iron Fleet outnumbers and out masses all the other navies of the world by a factor of ten to make up for the waterbenders' natural superiority there."

"Well, that makes it easier! The water primitives are barely even-"

"Unless of course the Avatar died again and is in the Earth-Kingdom, or…."

"Or…?

"I do not wish to over complicate things but…" Iroh pulled on his beard musingly, "the air nomads were known for being… odd."

"Odd how?"

"Strange rumors of stranger powers, my nephew. They could go without food for whole months or years while meditating. They could fly without bending. They could turn invisible like wind and slip through doorjambs to steal freshly baked pies."

"I'm pretty sure that that last one was a fox spirit uncle."

"Nevertheless, it is, in my opinion at least, more than possible that the Avatar of air still lives. Quietly meditating in a cave somewhere."

"So, you're saying that the Avatar could be… just about anywhere and of any nation?" Zuko began to quake with barely contained fury. "That's USELESS! Why in the Sun's name…?"

"Control yourself nephew," Iroh snapped, "Your rage does you no good here. I simply mean to point out the possibilities. All the possibilities, no matter how complicated that makes the situation."

Zuko took a moment to bring his temper, much closer to the surface these days, under control. "I cannot believe that the Avatar of air still lives, surely he would have thrown himself at us by now to avenge his people? Why would he just sit in a cave?"

"Why indeed? It would seem that you do not understand the air nomads at all nephew," Iroh said, rising to his feet. "As Akodo said 'Understanding…"

"Is the beginning of Victory.'" Zuko replied. "Where are you going uncle?"

"To fetch dinner, and… a few other things. Do your thousand cuts and kata forms. Should you be done before I return, meditate, you will need a clear mind for this."

"This is insane!" Zuko said, roughly slapping one of the scrolls Iroh had brought for him to read.

"You keep using that word nephew, I begin to think you don't know what it means. You must learn that simply because you do not understand does not automatically mean something is nonsensical," Iroh replied calmly sipping his tea.

"But complete non-attachment? Pacifism? And yet they somehow think that they still follow bushido? What is the point of living without caring about anything?"

"An excellent question nephew. They believed, as I think you must have already read, that attachment leads to fear and sadness when that which they care for inevitably dies or is lost. This, in turn, muddies the soul which leads to dishonorable conduct."

"But, again, if you don't care then what's the point of living? Why bother existing in the world if you're not going to be a part of it?"

"Name for me the eight great dojos of the world," Iroh commanded suddenly.

Zuko's mouth dropped open, what did this have to do with anything? But he rooted through his mind finding the answer his uncle asked for.

"Here in the Fire-Nation, we have the Lion, like us, and the Scorpion, like Azula. In the Earth-Kingdom they have the dojos of the Crab and the Mantis. The Water-Tribe has the Dojo of the Crane in the north and the Unicorn in the south… You said eight, uncle…? I only know six."

"You forgot the Air-Nation."

"Oh!" Zuko grabbed another scroll from the discordant heap scattered around him. "Here! The Phoenix and…. the Dragon. Huh. Can't both of those creatures breathe fire?"

"They can also both fly, but it does seem odd does it not? Also, that the Crab, a water creature, should be found in the Earth-Kingdom and the Crane, another flying creature, in Water-Tribe. It suggests to me that once we were not all a divided as we are now. It also suggests, to me at least, that to belong to a dojo is not necessarily a matter of element, or of birth nation, but of spirit and personal philosophy. A waterbender could be a Lion, and a firebender could be a Dragon."

"But they are our enemies uncle!"

"The Nations they traditionally belong to are our enemy. Can a way of thinking be anyone's enemy?"

"That's insa-" Zuko caught himself, "That seems... unusual uncle."

Iroh laughed heartily. "Indeed nephew! It is indeed. But it is evident that different people have different ways of looking at the world, and that these different views do lend themselves to certain elements and nations, but not to exclusion!"

"What is your point uncle?"

"My point is that understanding is possible. All of the dojos have their root in bushido and bushido has its root in the truth of the world. It is possible to understand a person without accepting that their path is the right one."

"I wouldn't want to be anything but a Lion uncle," Zuko said, after a minute of contemplation.

"And I'm not saying you should nephew, but it is possible to understand the other dojos and the other nations. And 'Understanding…"

"…is the beginning of victory," Zuko said with a fierce grin.

A/N:

Hello and welcome to the end of the chapter! I hope you enjoyed it even HALF as much as I did while writing it. Updates on weekends.

If you have any questions, comments, or general feedback please feel free to comment. Concrit is welcome. I regret nothing.

NEXT WEEK on a very special "Avatar: The Last Dragon"...
Iroh drinks tea! Zuko learns that foreigners are people too! Azula throws shade!

TUNE IN. Same Zuko time, Same Zuko channel!

Original post date: 22 APR 2018

updated: 28 APR (because FFN has A PROBLEM with my scene break markers)