Did you think I forgot? I bet you did! But guess what, I didn't!

Sorry guys, I've been working on this chapter for weeks. I rewrote this sucker seven times before I was happy enough to post it. And even now, I'm kinda sketchy about it. But...I'll let you dig in. We'll talk later. :)

Zhao sat in his bed, his silk, crimson sheets unfurled around him from Koori's hasty departure. He squinted at the partially closed door, listened to the sounds of her heaves, and he smirked, thinking about the responsibilities that had gone to the wayside since he had terminated and imprisoned his once-trusted Lieutenant.

It had always been Leo's job to care for his little slave, and he hadn't realized how much the man had actually done until now. Leo's tasks weren't confined to simply feeding the girl as he had been ordered; no, the man provided a much more crucial service: administering contraceptive tea. And since Zhao had been undeniably busy dealing with the invasion, he had forgotten to alert Jee or dispense the concoction himself.

Pity, he shrugged, not displeased with the sudden turn of events. I had intended to ask her, first.

That had always been the plan. Ask Koori if she even wanted to bear his child. Though, normally, he wouldn't have bothered asking his young slave; his opinion, wants, and needs always came before whatever she thought she needed or wanted. And even then, she never got a single item she desired without doing something for him, first.

But bearing a child—rearing his child—it was a task that he thought deserved mutual understanding. An agreement of sorts. Especially since she could raise her internal body temperature to a point where a fetus couldn't survive. Kill the cells in her abdomen before they even had a chance to burst into a steady heartbeat. Though, he doubted she would ever do such a thing.

He edged to the side of the bed, slightly nervous. A doubt wasn't a guarantee.

Adopting a smug smile, he stood and sauntered to the bathroom to check up on his young slave. He'd have to take better care of her now. Regularly feed her and make sure that she was getting all the nutrients she needed. At least, until he could confirm that she was, indeed, carrying his child.

Vomit splattered into the watery depths of the toilet. There was nothing but bile in her stomach, so it didn't take long for her to stop heaving.

Kneeling on the floor, hands gripping either side of the rim, Koori pondered. She didn't know what had caused the sudden sickness; she usually wasn't ill, and even if she was, she hadn't thrown up in a few years—and back then, she vomited because of what she saw, not what she felt—so the whole ordeal was starting to scare her. And, almost sensing the newly-rising fear, the dark energy in her scar lurched aggressively to feed on her emotion, consume it greedily…live off her terror. The pattern circled; each moment she sat there and felt the energy gobble up another portion of her, more fear replaced the helping, and the darkness gorged off her like she was a bottomless buffet.

She sat there for a while, breathing and staring at the murky vomit swirling around the toilet. Until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder, prying her away from her position, urging her to stand, and undressing her with warm and calm fingers.

Zhao's hands were all over her, pulling her shirt over her head and tugging down her short-styled leggings and underwear. When she was finally naked, she felt his palm cup the back of her knees and lift her off the steel floor and into the tub. She stood there for a while, leaning against the wall, listless and gawking at the curtain, feeling the darkness in her scar slowly overwhelm her, mercilessly constrict her.

Then she felt his oddly comforting and bare body press against her back, arms slowly winding around her hips. He leaned forward a little bit and turned the faucet. A shrill douse of ice-cold water poured over them, but Zhao was dangerously warm and the liquid felt strangely soothing against her front, chasing away the evil radiating through her core, sending it straight to her back and against her Master's fiery skin.

His hands returned to her hips and he turned her around until she was facing him, chest pressed against his and water cascading against her back. The liquid slowly warmed, but she found herself slanting against his front, wrapping her arms around his back. She nuzzled into his neck and pressed her lips against his throat, feeling the small hairs of his facial hair tickle her cheek. It wasn't a kiss; it was just a form of calm and sensual contact. And it felt strangely good.

Entwined, they stood there for a while, feeling nothing other than skin against skin, a mixture of warm and cold playing off each other, heating and cooling. And the moment only ended when Zhao rubbed his left hand across her buttock. It traveled up until it reached the small of her back. His fingertips brushed against her marred skin and Koori's breathing hitched, sensing the aura in her back move slightly at his touch, seeking its true owner.

"Feel better?" he asked, trailing his hand up her spine, somehow mollifying the energy.

Did he know about her tainted core? Could he feel the vile essence and maneuver it with his will, like the fire that he produced from his limbs? Why was he suddenly so tender after last night? And why did he feel so agonizingly good against her skin, pushing the evil away, containing it…

Koori really didn't want to think about the swirls eating away at her emotions and instead focused on the comforting, breathy pulls of his chest. The memory of her stomach emptying a few moments ago plodded arrogantly around her head, demanding answers and providing irksome questions. "I…I don't know what happened. I haven't been sick in ages."

Zhao's right hand laced into her black hair, clasping her skull gently against his neck; he could feel her chilly breath against his throat and he longed to make her melt into him. A wave of heat rolled through him and she whimpered, burrowing deeper. He smiled a little, slightly amused with her affection and the thought that she believed she was simply ill and nothing more.

Morning sickness, he told himself, gleeful thoughts pouring through him. Possibly pregnant…with my child.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, smelling the delightful aroma of her peach and cinnamon-scented shampoo. He could almost imagine the alluring fragrance of maternal hormones seeping from her pores. Smelling her, holding her, he could practically feel his heir occupy her womb, permanently tying them together with their joint creation.

Zhao blinked water out of his eyes and clutched her so close that he was sure he couldn't tell where either of them began or ended. The hand on her spine fell downward, wanting to press her hips against his and rouse a more primal need, satisfy a desire that longed to be filled. He felt his dick twitch and lengthen as his hand continued to trail south.

But the very instant his fingers grazed her scar, the blood drained out of his cock and shriveled between them. A hard, guttural sound escaped his throat and he desperately hoped that his little slave didn't notice. Though, he doubted that she didn't; they were entangled so tightly that he could feel her heartbeat against his chest. She had to have felt him grow aroused and then disinterested. And he couldn't argue with the inopportune timing; it was all because of that fucking scar.

Water poured over them and Zhao continued to fondle the disfigured expanse of flesh. Curiosity overcame him and he struggled to think back, struggled to remember the last time that they could have possibly conceived the growing child deep inside Koori's womb.

It took him a long while to remember, but he finally sought out his memory and disgust flitted through his eyes as he remembered their last sexual stint.

Right after we found out Zuko was the Blue Spirit, he thought, a sneer on his face. About two weeks ago, now. When we were on my desk.

Though the memory was very pleasant, the timing was what concerned him. Not even twenty-four hours after they had passionately fucked on his desk, Koori was paraded around the young exile, scantily-clad while she practiced her bending. And right after being employed as a distraction, Zhao humiliated her and destroyed the skin on her back while he utilized her for bait.

He could have harmed his heir. He could have done irreparable damage to his own child with his juvenile ploys. And all of those thoughts roused a foreign feeling, and he felt the insane need to protect the young woman in his arms, shield her from all threats as her belly—their child—grew.

Guard her. Even if it was from…himself.

Koori's forearms dug into his back, pleading for more of his tender heat, and he could do nothing other than give it to her; supply her with the drug she so desperately craved while she was physically burdened with their child, even though she didn't know it yet.

Should I tell her?

The question lurked around the darker corners of his mind, sneaking about and disguised as another closely-guarded secret. He wanted to blurt out his suspicions about her sudden illness, but he knew that he couldn't tell her until his doubts were quelled.

There was a possibility that she was, indeed, just sick. And he needed to be sure. But he couldn't take her to a physician and risk the doctor touching her, perhaps let her know that she was pregnant before he could explain his ambitions. Though, he had to discern if she was carrying his child, and he needed to be stealthy since usual protocol for master and slave procreation was immediate termination, regardless of the owner's wishes.

They were on a well-stocked warship and four other women—all slaves except Zan—occupied the cruiser. Three other slaves meant that there were blood tests on board; they were a simple and highly-effective way to settle his doubts and curb his suspicions. All he needed to do was sneak into the medical wing, steal a test or two, and convince the girl in his arms to comply. And then, he would have his answer in a matter of minutes.

But for now, just in case, he needed to take care of her. He needed to fill her now-empty tummy with nourishment so his child—which he hoped was a strapping, firebending boy like he had been—could thrive within her.

Calloused hands released her hair and back, but Koori refused to let go and instead pressed her stomach up against his, begging for whatever affection he was willing to give. Though, right now, there wasn't much to distribute. No, he was thoroughly distracted and reached for his washcloth to start bathing.

"When we're done," he said, wringing out the soapy cloth and slapping it against Koori's shoulder, making her shudder and release him, "you're going to join me for breakfast."

"Breakfast?" she asked, her voice a frail croak.

"Hmm," Zhao nodded. His eyes roamed her naked form as she stepped away from him, out of the warm stream. He could imagine her rounded belly and he longed to touch her and feel the soft and slippery skin under his fingertips. Agni, he couldn't wait to see her petite form grow over the coming months. "You didn't eat yesterday," he said while he soaped his chest. "And now your stomach is completely empty and you'll need your strength."

Koori faltered, golden eyes looking subtly confused and bashful. "Oh," she squeaked, face turning red as steam filled the space between them. "Thank you."

Iroh knew that something was wrong the moment she sat down. And now, an hour and a half later—still in the midst of their first game of Pai Sho—he realized that he should have questioned her about her demure mood a while ago.

Slouching forward, one elbow resting against the tabletop, Koori placed her tile and exhaled with a sigh. A bad move, but sometimes a simple piece had to be forfeited for the greater good, even if it bothered her dearly. Iroh glanced at her sacrificial tactic from behind a tilted teacup, eyes alight with curiosity. The girl seemed distracted and…troubled. And her misery was deeply concerning. So he placed his cup down and looked at the board, ignoring her poor attempt at misdirection—yes, the rock tile was offered to him on a golden platter, but he knew that she was looking to settle her white lotus tile elsewhere, securing yet another well-deserved victory. And he had no intentions to lose, at least…not yet.

He picked up his wheel tile, shifted it, and placed it down, blocking her strategy. She frowned, lips pressing tightly together, brow furrowing as she tried to concentrate harder.

"Is something bothering you?" Iroh asked as he bit off a quarter of his cookie, munching heartily.

She picked up her rock tile and then put it back down. "No." She picked up a wheel tile and returned it, dissatisfied. "Maybe." She paused, nibbled her bottom lip, and sighed. "Yes."

"Care to talk about it?"

If it was possible, Koori slumped forward a little more and rubbed her eyes with two clenched fists. "I…" She huffed and ran a hand through her hair. "I got sick this morning."

"Sick?" Iroh was at her side in a heartbeat, hand pressed against her forehead, testing her temperature as any concerned parent would. She was a little colder than normal and he couldn't help but feel alarmed; a cold firebender was not a good sign. And he grew even more worried when she pulled away from him and clamped her hands around her elbows, hugging herself. Iroh pressed his lips together into a hard line. "Sick how?"

"I threw up. Not much. I mean…there's not much to throw up." She hissed and looked away when Iroh winced at her admission. "But it still happened. I…I don't understand. I don't get sick. Ever." She hugged herself tighter. "I don't get sick."

"Well," Iroh leaned forward and caught her elbow, tugging at her gently until she was looking at him. "It is getting colder. Is there any chance that you're getting a cold?"

"No." Confusion filling her face, her head wiggled from side to side. "I mean…I don't think so. I've never had one before, so I wouldn't know."

"You've never had a…" Iroh paused and blinked. "I suppose that your immunity to common illnesses has something to do with your healing ability."

Koori's nose twisted. "Well then…a cold makes sense, I guess."

He tugged on his beard. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

A lonesome sigh escaped her lips and she scrunched her face together a little more. She extended her hand and a sheepish, white flame struggled to survive for a fluttering moment before it puttered out. "It's gone. I…I can't get it to come out anymore. There's something wrong and it feels—" She cut herself off, eyes wide. Iroh didn't need to hear about her personal troubles. They were hers—hers to deal with…alone. Like usual.

Another sigh.

Iroh didn't seem deterred. If anything, he was even more interested, albeit concerned. "Tell me, Koori. What do you feel?"

The slave's head snapped up and she parted her lips, ready to explain, but they closed instantly and scrunched together. After a few moments to collect her thoughts, she began. "Your demonstration yesterday…I could feel your energy even after you released the teapot."

One eyebrow raised, the Dragon of the West nodded. "Yes, you mentioned that it was…swirly." He smiled sadly, trying to make light of the conversation.

"Can," Koori ran her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. "Can energy linger in a vessel? Like, how long could your energy stay in that teapot? Is it forever? Does it change the teapot overtime? Can it corrupt the tea within? Is there—"

"Koori." Her head twisted and her mouth closed. "These questions…what do they have to do with you?"

"I think," she looked skyward and squinted at the dreary ceiling. "I think that there's somebody else's energy trapped within me. And it's squeezing me…hurting me…making me sick."

"Really?" He tugged on his beard and looked skeptical. "This invasive energy that you feel, can you describe it?"

"It feels angry, hateful, and it hurts. It feels like it's coiling around me, constricting me. And…and it feels like it's centered around…" She looked away, but Iroh's eyes followed her gaze to the tapestry hanging on his wall: the Fire Nation insignia gleaming bright and proud on its crimson background. "Is it possible for burns—for scars—to harbor the aggressor's vile energy?"

"You think that Zhao's energy is trapped within you? Within your scar?"

"I dunno. Probably—maybe. Is that even possible?"

Iroh released his beard and looked stern. "I won't say that it's impossible, but I very much doubt that Zhao's energy is within you. He'd have to be a very skilled energybender in order to inflict that sort of damage. And he's definitely not an energybender."

"Then why does it feel like it's him inside me? All of these sensations—all of this hate—it feels like him. Who else could it be? It's not you, is it?"

"Of course not."

"He's the only explanation, then. This scar—whatever he did to me that day—it's lingering, blocking my healing, and making me ill."

"If that was the case, his energy would have taken hold immediately instead of taking more than a week to manifest. You started feeling this pain last night, I'm assuming? After you became aware of your energybending gift?"

"Well yeah, but—"

"Would you mind if I examined your scar?"

"Um, okay." Koori straightened her back and shimmied in her seat, making it easier for the ex-General to gaze upon her marred flesh. She lifted up the tail end of her tunic and wrapped it around her arms, securing the fabric tight so it wouldn't be in his way. As soon as she settled, she felt Iroh's palm graze her skin. Nonthreatening and curious, but she tensed anyway.

Iroh's fingers softly touched her scar. Physically, it felt like any scar should have—oddly smooth but bumpy. So he decided to take a closer look; pour his energy into her skin to detect the abnormality. But once he penetrated the surface of her skin with his energy, everything appeared normal. So he closed his eyes and focused wholeheartedly on searching for the essence she had described. It didn't take him long to discover it, sitting in the curve of her back, feeding off her unusually brightly-colored aura. And once he found it, he realized what her problem was.

The vile essence was clamped around her chakra pools, gumming up every single puddle with a foul secretion. Each pool was plugged up almost to the base, causing a horrible imbalance between her spiritual and physical self. Yes, it probably felt constricting—probably felt deceptively like Zhao, too. It was most definitely the cause of her sudden illness. But before he could help her, he needed to explain what was happening; that way, if it ever happened again, she would know what to do.

"You're unbalanced," he said, still caressing her skin. "Fear is overtaking you, overpowering your will. Koori," he frowned when she tensed once more, "this is your energy."

A sharp intake of breath and silence. Koori sat stick-straight and stared at the tapestry. Impossible.

But it was true. When it came down to it, the only energy that he sensed was hers. There were two vastly different shades competing against each other, vying for control, but they were both hers, circling, enraged. Two diverse energies, struggling to stay alive and consume whatever they could. And the darkness—the hate that was spreading and gorging on her fear—was undeniably winning.

And that wasn't good.

"Impossible," she snapped, a little irritated. She yanked down her shirt and scooted away from the senile old man. There was no way it was her energy. Her essence wouldn't do that. No way! Why would her own energy betray her and attack her—make her sick enough to puke? Stifle her healing? "My energy wouldn't restrict my healing ability. There's no way that evilness is mine."

"Your fear is allowing the darkness to eat away at you. Consume you."

"I'm not afraid." She scooted to the other side of the board, where Iroh usually sat. Any further and she'd hit the wall. "And why does that matter? What does fear have to do with healing? I've been afraid plenty of times throughout my life and never once has my healing been hindered before. Seriously, General Iroh, it's not my energy. It can't be. It's his."

Iroh looked pained. "Healing is embracing what you fear."

The words came out almost silent, but Koori heard every syllable.

She stiffened and her teeth clenched. "Another one of your proverbs?" Now was not the time for his silly anecdotes. Why couldn't he see that?

"No, actually, it was on a shrine erected just outside of your village."

His words made her wince. And then she glared. How dare he mention her decimated home? Now, of all times? Now, when she felt considerably weakened and slightly agitated. When there was something undeniably wrong with her, crippling her insides. "There was no shrine outside my village. I explored every square inch of that place. There was no shrine."

"It was crafted after your people were slaughtered and your houses destroyed."

One eye twitched, annoyed. "So? What does that have to do with me?"

"After thirteen years, you've allowed your fear to finally bubble over. And it's consuming you."

"No, it's not."

"Koori, it is."

Tears prickled her eyes, threatening to spill. "It's not. I'm not afraid. I'm not—"

"It's not shameful, Koori. Everybody is afraid of something. And it's perfectly reasonable to be absolutely terrified at some point in your life." His eyes were like molten magma, mesmerizing. And Koori couldn't take her eyes off them. "And Koori," his voice was smooth, nurturing and caring, almost proud. "It's admirable that you've gone so long without feeling like this before."

The room settled into a strange silence and the slave simply looked away, unwilling to continue. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Why didn't he understand? This wasn't her energy. It was Zhao's. It was his. It had to be. Had to be…

Iroh paused to consider another tactic and smiled at her. He gestured to the Pai Sho board. "What's the true purpose of Pai Sho?"

Koori's gaze flicked to the game board between them, unsure why he was suddenly changing the conversation. She licked her bottom lip. "To win."

"No," he frowned, "it's to create harmonies—to bring balance."

"Harmony and balance? What does that have to do with the weird…thing I feel?"

Iroh huffed. She was becoming argumentative. But he'd had three years of practice with his nephew. Three years of patient, insufferable understanding. So, he could take a few more minutes. Especially since he knew that she wouldn't scowl and shout at him with her hostile confusion. No, Koori seemed to be a little calmer than his unruly nephew, which was good.

"Your fear is causing an imbalance within your body. And you're not embracing—not withstanding—your panic anymore."

"Embracing? What sane person would want to embrace fear?"

He reached over and grabbed his teacup. He drained it and then placed it in front of him, index finger gently tapping the gold-trimmed rim. "Balance," he said, "is a natural homeostasis within and around us; it's the process of change and acclimation. It's extraordinarily challenging to attain. And because of its difficulty, most people overlook or ignore it. Harmony is relatively easier to attain." He pushed the teacup forward and it screeched against the tabletop, "It is the combination of excess and lack. It's how we learn to work through challenges without letting them overwhelm us. It's how we embrace those struggles to make our lives more tolerable…or enjoyable. Together, harmony and balance are two separate entities continuously circling and complementing each other in the physical and spiritual planes. And we cannot live—cannot survive—without their presence."

After centering the teacup in the middle of the game board, he stood and walked to the pitcher of water on his desk. He poured a generous portion into his cup—filled it until it was practically running over, liquid resting against the brim—and calmly walked back, returning the pitcher. Koori couldn't help but stare at the near-bursting cup, waiting to see what would happen.

He placed his hands on either side of the teacup, much like he usually did with his teapot. Instantly, the water started to bubble, started to squiggle and squirm, steam pouring from the surface. Koori crawled closer to the table, elbows pressing against the game board, leaning in so she wouldn't miss a single moment. The waterline receded, plunged well below the brim. And when the cup was half empty, Iroh looked up.

"What did you see?" he asked, a half smile on his face.

Black eyebrows knit together. "Was there something to see?"

I was Iroh's turn to huff. He pressed his fingers tighter against the teacup and flicked his eyes downward. Koori's followed.

"The cup was full when we began this exercise. And now?"

"It's half full," Koori said.

"Exactly. What happened to the rest of it?"

The cup continued to steam with Iroh's encouragement and the liquid continued to steadily decrease.

"It evaporated."

"A partial truth," Iroh acknowledged. "Technically, its form—its energy—changed."

Koori looked up, but the Dragon of the West was still focusing on the teacup, staring at it so intently that the slave felt embarrassed to break her focus from it. She returned her gaze. "Energy can change?"

A stiff nod, and then, "Energy is a found everywhere, in all things—plants, animals, rocks, trees, even the air we breathe. Think of it," Iroh paused to consider. "Think of it as an omnipresent body that links us all. It flows continuously from one point to another, forever changing, forever adapting.

"It cannot be created or destroyed. Merely changes—accepts and adjusts. Like this boiling water."

"I…don't understand," Koori admitted.

Iroh shrugged. "Most people don't. But I'm confident that over time, you will. You just need a steady hand to guide you."

The water simmered and the steam seemed to scream as it seeped into the air. Slave and ex-general continued to watch.

"Like this water," the Dragon of the West said, "our body can change. We take in air, water, and nourishment, and transform those substances into fuel for movement, thought, and bending. What we take in, we also give out; a constant balance. But sometimes, we can struggle with this, even unknowingly.

"You see, our mind controls everything. It categorizes thoughts, opinions, emotions, and decides when we act. It's constantly rationalizing, thinking, and creating. And a single stressor can break this process."

"And you think my fear has broken my balance?"

"Oh, I guarantee it."

"But," Koori leaned closer, fingers inching closer to the cup, closer to Iroh's unusually comforting hands. "How do I fix it?"

The ex-General smiled and looked up. "Do what you've been doing for years, Koori." He shimmied in his seat and clenched her hands, squeezing them tightly, reassuring. "Embrace it." He could feel her cold hands shiver. "Fear startles you, but you press on. You endure and adapt. You survive. You forgive."

"But…but…"

"Recently, you've lost sight of who you are." His thumbs caressed the base of her wrists. The fabric scrunched up, revealing a curious mixture of purplish welts. Iroh immediately stopped and stared at them, face draining of color. She tore her hands away and wiggled her sleeves back down, a smear of red across her face, embarrassed. For what, Iroh desperately wanted to know, but he remained silent.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

Iroh felt sickened to say his next few words, but they needed to be said. "You've chosen to stop forgiving. That peach from the other day—Zhao's attempt at an apology—you didn't take it. You didn't accept it. You refused to forgive him for his vile actions. And though I don't disagree with your decision—what he did was reprehensibly horrid—it was the first time you've ever held him accountable."

Koori's face twisted until it looked almost pouty. "That's not true. I've held him accountable befo—"

"When?"

Suddenly, her lips clamped tightly closed. Those were her memories and struggles to bear. Zhao ordered the murder of her parents, the decimation of her entire village. He was the one who personally killed her father, who laughed in his face as he told the dying man his daughter's new fate. He kept her bound and chained whenever he desired, however he wanted. He routinely tortured her. Consistently told her that she was worthless, told her that one wrong move could end her life. It was his choice, of course; whether to keep her alive or not. And she could only hope and dream that he would value her enough to keep her among the living until she hit next summer.

Maybe then, she'd crack her Master's monstrous and gruff surface and find the boy beneath. Maybe then, she'd find the child who was capable of loving his mother. Find the person who was willing to tell her why she was alive and what the Fire Sages saw when they looked into her gold eyes.

"You even forgave him for taking away your bending, your healing."

"I did not—"

"The first time, Koori. The first time…you did, didn't you?"

She paused and shifted uneasily in her seat. It wasn't like that. She didn't forgive him; she simply…gave up. She disappeared into nothingness and allowed him to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. She didn't exist anymore—didn't care.

I felt…empty.

But then a spark of her returned when they discovered that Zuko was the Blue Spirit. She had been a little peeved with the discovery and had allowed her anger to seep into her owner, asked him what he was going to do to the treasonous whelp. And he used her to get to him. Used her to lure him into another Agni Kai. Used her to tear the teen apart and then blow him up when he finally hit rock bottom.

Had she forgiven him somewhere in there? For the first time he used that horrible tea?

Sex on his desk. A walk in the snow. The peach for breakfast.

Maybe…maybe she had. Just a little.

"The moment you refused to accept his apology was the moment your body started accumulating the evil energy that you feel, now. It kept building up as you continued to ignore it. But it needed a catalyst to explode for you to recognize it. What happened, Koori? What changed?"

The slave looked away, another coating of red tinging her cheeks.

Rejection. That was the change.

Zhao's flat out refusal to do much more than finger her or kiss her forehead. The absolute feeling of being worthless. The fear that she would be spending the rest of her life alone and miserable.

Koori sat in silence, nibbled her bottom lip, and stewed. Iroh, too, continued to ponder.

Recently, Zhao had utilized the intense chi-blocking powers of the Dragon's Sickness Tea against his slave. So many times that Iroh could still feel its dreary residue settle in the small of her back. And he had no doubt that the first chakra—the Earth Chakra which resided at the base of the spine—wasn't the only one mucked up. He had a feeling that most, if not all, of her chakra pools were blocked. They were probably caked in a disgusting coating of sludge from a few years of damage.

No doubt, the inflicted damage was on purpose. If Koori was what he thought—if she was, indeed, the fable missing piece of the Sun Spirit: the Phoenix—she could be easily controllable if her chakras were blocked. Easily controllable…or very dangerous, he thought sadly.

Corrupting her chakra pools would stifle her energy; it would make it extremely difficult for her to tap into her true powers, see what she could do. But it would also work like a plugged up sick. Energy was still pouring in with nowhere to go. Eventually, her pools would overflow and explode. Perhaps unexpectedly kill her. Perhaps unexpectedly destroy the ship.

He looked away, a grim expression on his face.

Did Zhao realize what he was doing? Did he know what he had done?

Iroh moved his teacup from the center of the table to his side, still thinking. If her pools were blocked, why did it only affect her healing powers. How could she still firebend?

He needed to touch her again. Needed to probe into her skin with his energy to feel what was happening. But Koori was still contemplatively silent, thinking. And though she was mid-thought, Iroh decided to continue. "Has Zhao ever discussed chakras with you?"

"What're chakras?" Happy about the topic change, she gave him a sideways glance, puckering the left side of her lips, intrigued.

Iroh's eyes widened—a firebender not knowing about the basics about the energy that flows through them? Of course she didn't know. What did Zhao have to gain by teaching her the basics about her abilities?

Iroh scooted closer, pressing his hand against her forearm, trailing his fingers across her wrists. Secretly, he was nudging her sleeve up to examine her bruises, but Koori pulled away from him and placed her hands in her lap. "Chakras," he sighed, giving up, "are pools of energy that exist throughout the body, each existing for their own purpose and process."

"Pools of energy?"

"Hmm," the ex-General nodded. "Seven interconnected pools that typically flow like a stream, steady and unhindered. But they can be blocked by emotional, physical, and spiritual pressures. And I believe—" He wound his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek gently and letting a comforting smile fill his face. "—that some of your chakra pools have been blocked."

"Blocked? How many?" She looked frightened and leaned closer, putting her arms on the table and catching his sleeve. Her fingers dug into the fabric with panic, pulling him closer. "Can they be unblocked? I won't lose my bending—my healing—will I?"

Iroh chuckled. "Don't worry, Koori. We can unblock them. It just depends on which pools are blocked and how many. All it takes is time."

"So you can help me?"

"Of course." His face fell, no longer smiling. "But I'll need your undivided trust. Some of the unblocking processes can be rather…intimate."

Intimate? She looked horrified and pulled away. "Then no. They can stay blocked, I'll…I'll be fine."

Iroh reached out and caught her chin, cupping her cheeks with his fingers and delicately stroking the her soft cheek. "Koori, listen to me." Their eyes locked and she winced at the intensity of his gaze. "If your chakra is blocked for a long period of time, there could be dangerous consequences."

Koori's face jerked out of his hands and she pulled her arms back. Tears prickled her eyes and she smeared them away. "Wh-what kind of consequences?"

"You could hurt somebody if enough pools are corrupted. The energy could build up and explode."

"What? That sounds horrible!"

"It is," he murmured. "But I can fix it, Koori. You just have to—"

"I can't." She looked away.

"Trust me."

"I can't. You don't understand. You don't—"

"I know that it's hard," Iroh acknowledged, squeezing her shoulder. She tensed at his contact and he released her. "You've lived a life where you can't trust anybody, even the people who have told you that they're going to protect you…provide for you. Somehow, they always let you down. Or disappear."

Mama. Papa.

Leo…

Koori wiggled her head around until she was able to look at the wise strategist.

"You've lived a life of absence; the absence of safety, freedom, trust, hope…and love. An empty life."

"Empty?" Her voice crackled, strained and soft.

"Not empty. Devoid of positivity," he corrected. "In the place of safety, you've been burdened with fear; of freedom, you've been given strict rules and punished if you disobey; of trust…self-loathing and unacceptance of the kindness from others; of hope, skepticism and the belief that no good truly exists." He breathed deliberately and looked sad. "You can't dream of a better life because you've been continuously told that you don't deserve one. You live solely to survive and not to live. And you've convinced yourself that there's no way out."

'It doesn't have to be this way.' Leo's voice echoed in her mind, a memory from so long ago when they were at Jeong Jeong's hideout, sitting by the campfire in the early morning.

"Yes it does," she whispered to the voice, shaking her head.

Iroh stared at her, a little confused, but saying nothing about her odd remark. "I told you before that I only want to help you. You're not alone anymore, Koori. Zhao doesn't have the power to send me away. I want to help…and this time, to help you, I need you to trust me."

Koori's head raised and she gazed at him, eyes filled with tears but determined. Everything that he said made sense. He was right; Zhao couldn't send him away like he did Leo. Iroh was an ex-General, former Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, and brother to Fire Lord Ozai. Iroh's power and influence far outreached whatever Zhao had managed to scramble together over the years. And she looked at him, knowing that he'd never purposefully hurt her, just like his nephew. Just like Zuko.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. "O-okay."

With a smile, Iroh gestured for her to remain still so he could crawl behind her. He paused at her back and took a deep breath. This would be the first uncomfortable step. "I need you to take off your shirt."

Koori hesitated but wound her arms into her tunic, pulling her shirt above her head. With her back to Iroh's front, chest covered with only her sarashi, she felt exposed and vulnerable. Now uncovered, Iroh saw the bruises on her wrists, blue-tinted skin turning a sickly shade of yellow as it tried to heal. Whatever had confined her must have been strong and unyielding. And he squinted, thinking that he could see individual markings, something that looked very similar to the outline of fingers. And after a few moments of staring, knowing what—and who—had caused the damage, he refocused on her back, determined to help the young girl before him who was in so much pain, horribly imbalanced. In physical, mental, and spiritual agony.

"I need to touch your back." His voice was soothing and professional. Nothing sexual as she feared, just caring, like always.

"Is this the…intimate part?"

"No, that'll come a little later," he admitted sympathetically. "And I'll warn you before we get there."

Loudly, Koori inhaled, chest expanding. She felt Iroh pull her hair to the side and toss the black chunk to her front so he could work without the strands in his way.

"Now, once this process starts, it cannot stop. And I want to warn you that this is a very intense experience." He squinted at the burn on her back, once again feeling the unusual energy circling the base of her spine. "Are you ready?"

Another gasping breath and a lengthy exhale. "Yes."

"Close your eyes."

She felt fingers press against her scar and the energy that she had felt from earlier slowly prodded into her skin: Iroh's energy. It felt very invasive and uncomfortable, but bubbly and warm, somewhat nonthreatening even though it shouldn't have been there.

"I'm going to help unblock the pools. Think of it like a plugged up sink that requires a snake to break up the clumps. This'll hasten the process."

The energy surged downward and settled, forming into something narrow, like a pick. "The first pool contains Earth Chakra; it's located in the base of the spine and is driven by survival, yet blocked by fear." Iroh's narrowed energy started chipping away at the blockage. "Look inside yourself, Koori…what do you fear? Confront it…vocalize it."

Her eyes scrunched tight, pondering. "Loneliness," she murmured after a few silent moments had passed. "Unacceptance and…" Koori faltered as the physical pain of her fears gripped her spine. Worthless. Always…feeling worthless.

Already knowing that they were starting off rough—her fears were quite startling and he suspected that she was hiding a fair bit more—Iroh dug into the blockage, picking it apart with each delicate and practiced poke. He prodded gently, taking his time, breaking apart the caked-up goo in her chakra pools and wincing every time her energy violently fought against him, even if she didn't know it.

He couldn't argue against the invasiveness of this experience. She had to be uncomfortable with his energy pushing into her, assaulting her essence and shoving it around wherever he saw fit. But she needed to be helped—needed the weight of this carefully crafted burden off her cowering shoulders.

A decent-sized piece of muck broke apart and Koori grunted, feeling him maneuver deeper into her spine. Wordless, she clenched her teeth together and continued to try her best; continued to try and aid him and sort through her own murky energy, pick apart the blockage with him. She could occasionally feel his energy surround her, immobilize and constrict her. And she fought against it, wanting to solve the problem herself.

Alone. Always trying to survive without assistance.

After a few heartfelt minutes and a great deal of sweat, Iroh knew he needed to take things a step further, help her however he could. So he crafted his voice to be soothing and filled with reassuring words, level-headed; just how he had been taught by that poor guru his nephew had wrongly accused of being the Avatar so many years ago. Before the startled man had laughed them off and offered nothing but kind words and a foul concoction of onion and banana juice. "Let your fears go, Koori," Iroh urged. "You aren't alone anymore. You have me; you have Zuko and Jee. Know that we accept you just as you are. You're talented—one of a kind. And your worth…" he frowned as she tensed. Ah, there is the fear she was hiding. "…knows no limits."

Hesitation and disbelief, and then a sigh. His words felt…good, even if they could have been a lie. Hearing that she had other people—people who had proven that they cared about her (even Jee in his own unusual way)—felt good; surprisingly divine. Knowing that Iroh, Zuko, and Jee had never once called her out on her weird bending style—had even praised her for her uniqueness—made her cherish them and want to spend even more time with them. She was talented; the only person in the world who could heal with fire, who could snuff out flames with only her will. She wasn't worthless, no matter how many times she had told herself she was. No matter how many times Zhao's insults clouded her thoughts. She was Koori. Daughter of Kuro, a Fire Nation firebender, and Mizu, a Northern Water Tribe waterbender. A healer. The world's only firebending healer. Not worthless. Not worthless. And with a gasp, Koori could feel Iroh tug at the blockage and a surge of energy rushed through the base of her spine, obstruction cleared.

"Good," Iroh said, nodding his head and wiping his damp brow. He pressed his suddenly aching hand against her side and his calloused fingers firmly wrapped around the front of her stomach. After a single pool, he was exhausted, but he had to continue. "Now," he began, voice soft and calming, "my hand is on your waist. It won't leave, but you'll feel my energy elsewhere. This is the intimate part. And I need you to tell me if I've gone too far, understood?"

"Um-hm." Koori bit her lip and felt the spiked tendril coil around the base of her spine, travel to her side, and then delve deeper, into her core. There was no bodily penetration, but it felt very similar, very personal and intrusive. Like…

No.

"S-stop," she stammered, breathing heavy, feeling uncomfortable and violated even though that hadn't been Iroh's intention.

His energy pulled away and returned to her side, waiting. "You'll need to unblock this one on your own," he said quietly, eyes filled with prickling tears because he had felt a glimmer of the physical damage done in that particular region. So broken and confused, so hurt. Just as he suspected, and certainly not what he wanted.

"Tell me what I need to do."

Fighting thick tears, Iroh dabbed at his eyes with his lengthy sleeve, and tried desperately to keep his voice steady, stern. Like he hadn't just felt the pain and turmoil twisted in her core; insides torn to shreds over the years. Evidence of sexual trauma…of rape.

"The second pool is your Water Chakra. It deals with…" He hesitated and turned away. "…pleasure—" He felt her muscles clench. "—and is obstructed by guilt. What burdens do you carry? What do you blame yourself for?"

Koori took a deep breath, feeling Iroh's energy waiting patiently outside her core. He felt the pain, she knew he did. But now wasn't the time to dwell on that, she'd have to confront that issue later. "Mama," she mumbled, refocusing. "Papa. All those villagers who died protecting me. Those people he burned alive. Prince Zuko getting burned…blown up."

Iroh choked back a sob. The girl in front of him thought that Zuko's actions were her fault. She had been burdened with so much and led to believe that all the misgivings around her were all because of her. How wrong she was. But how could he convince her that she wasn't to blame?

"Understand that those things happened, and that you weren't responsible, Koori. Your parents, the villagers, even the people that Zhao set ablaze made their own decisions. And it wasn't your destiny to change their fates. Even Zuko made a conscious choice to fight for your freedom. It wasn't your fault that he suffered—it wasn't your decision to assassinate him. You did nothing wrong, Koori. And remember, because of your actions, my nephew lives."

Again, his words and the way he patiently waited for her felt…good. And the blockage in her chakra pool slowly broke apart, energy pouring up and into her rarely-full tummy.

"The Fire Chakra is next and it's located in the—"

"Stomach," Koori interrupted, feeling Iroh's energy merge with her own once more.

"Can you feel it?" he rumbled, amused.

"Um-hmm."

"Good, good." His fingers twitched on her side, feeling the damage from a few days of starvation, but feeling the pleasant tingles of a hearty meal. Zhao had given her breakfast, how nice. His fingers focused and started shaving the obstruction down. "This pool focuses on willpower and is blocked by shame. To open the Fire Chakra, you need to face your greatest humiliations."

She whimpered, unable to voice them. There were…so many. Zhao on top of her, burning away her clothes. Using her as a distraction and parading her in front of Prince Zuko so he would be tempted by her. Leo bursting into that closet so many years ago, when she'd been covered with her waste from the past ten days, when she'd cried herself to sleep and told Yue that she wasn't real…when she told her imaginary friend to go away. Leo finding her in Zhao's bed, unconscious and naked, his face red and embarrassed as he tried to goad her awake.

So many humiliations; each memory making her queasy and uncomfortable.

"I…I…"

"Shhh," he soothed, reluctant to hear her darkest moments. They were hers and he wouldn't force them out of her, even if he really did want to hear—if only to hear who had hurt her, so he knew who to seek out. Though, he was sure he would only have to snuff out one person. "Those moments were a part of your past—a part of your life, but long gone. They don't define you. You are who you are, regardless of the degradations you've been a part of. Let your will release them; let them go."

Koori hesitated. There were so many…and each one hurt in its own cruel way. But after a great deal of anguish—and a helpful hand from Iroh—she felt the dam burst open. Energy flowed up and settled once more. She took a deep breath and felt Iroh's fingers travel across her back, behind her heart.

"The fourth chakra," he said, pressing his free hand against her bare shoulder, stabilizing her, "is in the heart. It deals with love and is blocked by grief. Confront your sorrow and let it out."

She should have thought about her parents, but she had accepted their deaths already; she couldn't bring them back so there was no point ruminating over it. But there was somebody else she hadn't let go of yet. Leo. And she sniffled. "Whe-where is he?"

Iroh stiffened. "Who? Who're you looking for?"

"L-Leo," she sobbed, clutching her knees. Iroh's hand gratuitously kept her upright, like he expected her to collapse. "Where'd he go? Wha-what did Master do with him? I didn't even get to say goodbye…he was just…he was just gone."

"He was important to you, wasn't he?"

Koori inhaled, sniffling. "Y-yeah."

"I know that you were important to him, too." She turned and he caught her confused, teary-eyed gaze. "He told me…that night. And even though he might be missing, his love remains. It's in your own energy, swirling around your heart. Can you feel it?"

The slave turned back around and put her hand against her chest, fist clenched over the skin protecting her heart. "Yeah," she said, reassuring herself. The thought of Leo's energy surging through her, his love protecting her even though he was absent, made her feel warm and happy. And the blocked passageway opened.

"You'll see him again, Koori."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, General," she whispered, biting her lip and releasing her heart. "C-can we stop? Just for a moment?"

"We cannot. It would be very dangerous."

Trembling hands wiped away dried tears and she nodded. "Okay."

"We're almost done," Iroh said. "Three more."

"Please be quick."

The Dragon of the West stood and walked around the slave, never letting his right hand leave her skin. He sat down and allowed his hand to settle in the small divot of her throat. "The fifth chakra is the Sound Chakra. Located in the throat, it deals with truth and is hindered by lies—both the ones we are told and the ones we tell. What have you lied about, Koori? And what lies have you been told?"

'You…you look very handsome in your new armor.'

'I started talking to him a few days ago…He likes to talk about his family a lot.'

'It was not a show! I hate him! Why can't you see that?'

'What if I didn't want to get those swords for you? What if I wanted them for me?'

'I…I want him dead, Master. I hate him. And he deserves to be blown apart.'

'I…I don't know what you're talking about. It…it j-just happened. I've never done that before! I…I don't know what happened!'

So many lies…she'd told so many over the past few weeks. And only one lie that she'd been told niggled in her brain.

'He cares about you.'

Such a horrible lie; Zhao didn't care about her. He'd been given so many opportunities to admit his feelings, yet each time he refused to say anything. And it…hurt. For some unknown reason, his refusal to admit anything was extraordinarily painful.

"Look inward, examine the lies that you've told yourself."

"M-myself?"

"Yes."

She instantly thought of her conversation with Leo, when he'd been trying to convince her to run away. 'I'm done with that nonsense,' she'd proclaimed. Was it…a lie? She could feel the familiar tingles, the familiar pulls convincing her to try escaping again, test her chances. 'I've become complacent with…whatever this is.' She hadn't, she realized. But she needed to stay…needed to stay.

'If I did manage to get away, he would burn the world to the ground to find me. He would kill whoever he needed, whenever he needed, to get me back in his control. I couldn't live with myself, knowing that so many people were dying because of me.'

Was it true, or was it only a partial truth that she mumbled to herself, affirming that staying with Zhao was necessary, when it just…wasn't.

"I don't want to be here—I don't..." She paused and continued, but she kept the admission to herself. I don't need to be with him.

The blockage shriveled and the energy expanded, rapidly filling up the next pool. Feeling very proud of Koori's words, Iroh smirked. "Very good, Koori. You Truth Chakra is unblocked."

Though the Dragon of the West was satisfied, the slave was crumbling. Everything up until now felt good, like a piece of her was born anew. But realizing that she didn't need to be with her Master—didn't want to be with him—made her squeamish and itchy. She wanted to claw at her throat, tear apart her Truth Chakra until a vile mixture of blood and skin blocked the pool once more. Contaminated it and left her bound to her owner…forever.

So she thought of the one thing she had told herself for the past thirteen years: I potentially save some other girl from this fate.

But was that even true anymore?

Zhao was…frustrated. His odd behavior the past night was evidence enough.

Holding her down, making her orgasm without experiencing a release of his own was abnormal for him; something nearly unheard of unless he was getting some sort of sick gratification from her moans. Usually, he would have delved deep in her ecstasy, torn her insides asunder with primal plunges until he came, searing ejaculate pouring out of him, making her wail and writhe. But he didn't.

He simply…left.

Slammed the door after a hurried exit and stalked the halls until after midnight. And when he returned, he was surprisingly calm. He penned a letter and talked, went to sleep beside her until she unexpectedly tore him from his slumber.

So, he had to have taken his frustrations out on something. On someone.

A sharp intake of breath and a desperate pause, golden eyes opening wide with her realization.

He found somebody else. He was hurting somebody else. And she wasn't needed anymore…

She was a hindrance. An annoyance. And she only needed to make one more wrong decision before Zhao would tire of her.

I need out.

Another breath and her eyes closed, shaking her head.

Feeling that way was dangerous. One more failed escape attempt—especially after vowing to be done, promising that she was through with that nonsense—could be lethal. How many more times could she fail her Master without facing some sort of debilitating punishment? And now, after he seemed disinterested in her, could she survive whatever torment she was sure to face once she was caught?

He would chain her to a wall, leave her for dead. Starve her until she didn't have the energy to breathe. Beat her to a bloodied pulp. Lock her in a closet once more, imaginary friend long gone, never coming back. Kill her…slowly. Make her feel every single slice—every single singe until she collapsed in on herself, giving up the will to live.

Her breathing quickened, haggard pants pulling in through her gaping mouth.

For the second time in twelve hours, she was panicking. The room was closing in around her. Everything was getting smaller—or was she getting bigger?

She overturned the table in her haste to get away, pushing a concerned Iroh to the side as she clambered for the safety of the stable metal wall. Her fingertips pressed tight against it, feeling the security, shivering with the chill of its surface. The steel was comforting; startlingly cool to touch, but sensational against her heated skin. She pressed her cheek against it and continued her labored pants.

Iroh was behind her instantly, cupping her shoulder and prying her from the wall. He pulled her forward and embraced her, wrapping his thick-sleeved arms around her torso until she fell against him, sobbing, fingers deeply entrenched in the back of his robes, pulling the fabric tight between her digits.

Koori's forehead was pressed against his neck and she felt his energy surge inside. She didn't want to continue. Why couldn't he give her a moment to calm down?

"The sixth chakra is the Light Chakra," he explained, entwining his arms around her back, hugging her snugly. "It's located in the center of the forehead. It deals with insight and is blocked by illusion."

Iroh knew that he needed to continue. Stopping now could be extremely dangerous. With five other pools unblocked, energy exploding out of them, if he continued to let her sob, she'd be a ticking bomb. The energy would rapidly build up and eventually erupt, setting the entire room—perhaps the entire ship…or even the armada—ablaze.

She hiccuped and tried to pull away but discovered that she couldn't. Iroh was pinning her and she felt trapped. "No," she murmured. "No, no, no, no, no…"

He continued, ignoring her struggles even though it pained him to hold her captive. But if she refused to continue, he needed to press on. She couldn't stop when they were so close. "The world's greatest illusion is separation. Like the harmonies and balance we talked about earlier. Like the four nations—like the elements. We all live in one world; we are one people, yet we've created boundaries to divide us.

"Especially in the Fire Nation, where we've been told that fire is superior than the other elements—that we should rule supreme. But when it comes down to it, no element can exist without the others.

"Everything is connected. We're all connected. The elements, too.

"Magma is simply molten earth. Steam is heated water. And combustion is heated, compressed air."

Fists pounded against his back. "Let me go," Koori wailed. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"

Even though she was struggling against him physically and spiritually, Koori's chakra pool opened and she crumbled against his stomach, heaving with her sobs. She wanted to stop but Iroh seemed insanely determined to continue.

"The final chakra," Iroh whispered, pressing his lips against her hair, trying to calm her. They were almost done; just one more. "The final chakra is the Thought Chakra. It's located in the crown of the head." He morphed his energy until it found the final blocked pool. Immediately, he started probing it, breaking the muck apart as quick as he could. "It deals with pure, cosmic energy, and is impeded by earthly attachment. What attaches you to this world?"

Koori was breathing heavily against him, labored pants of absolute exhaustion. Her response was a tearful whimper, barely audible. "N-nothing."

The very instant the word passed through her lips, the room went dark and then exploded with white light. The crimson fire in the sconces was startlingly white, like Koori's healing fire. Momentarily blinded and frightened with the sudden burst, Iroh looked around and increased the strength of his hold on Koori's waist. But her head lolled lifelessly to the side and the great Dragon of the West stilled with his realization.

She was unconscious.

And when he went to lay her flat on the floor, a wave of pure energy exploded from her chest. It seared through the walls and continued outward, rocking the ship with a powerfully violent lurch.

The pulse continued beyond the physical boundaries of the ship, alerting the world that the Phoenix had returned. Informing spirits and humans alike that a powerful entity had come back from a presumed grave. Notifying Zhao that something was grievously wrong with his favorite possession.

Iroh scrambled for Koori's shirt and redressed her. And the very instant he managed to tug her shirt over her stomach, Zhao barged into his room without knocking, an enraged and bestial expression on his face.

"What have you done?"

Koori woke up. The ground under her was wet and…squishy. She lay still for a moment, wondering if she was in the midst of some sort of odd punishment. Zhao must have gotten word of what Iroh had done. He must have found out that he was teaching her about energybending and gotten mad at her. Perhaps given her a tea that forced her into a forgetful, dazed slumber so he could take her someplace vile for a round of torment. He had done it before; what prevented him from doing it again? Especially now.

She sighed and took in a deep breath. The air was wet, but it wasn't the familiar, dank moisture from the deepest bowels of the ship. It was something surprisingly earthy.

And was that the sound of trickling water?

Grudgingly, she decided to open her eyes. She expected to be surrounded by dark-colored, steel walls, dripping with a thick tendril of errant ocean water. But what greeted her golden pupils were several vivid variations of green. Leaves bigger than her head, vines longer than any rope, trees bursting with more color than she ever knew existed. All of those things dangled above her and she bolted upright, gasping, rubbing the back of her suddenly aching head with a…teeny, tiny hand.

She held one small palm out in front of her face and then the other. Her hands used to be much bigger than this, right? Definitely, she thought with an absent-minded nod.

Startled and confused, she scrambled to her knees and blinked a few times. She rubbed her eyes with her tiny hands, thinking that all of this was some terrible dream. But dreams, she realized, weren't usually this mesmerizingly…pretty.

Golden irises blinked once, twice, and then remained open. The ground was covered in a menagerie of seeping moss. It continued into the trees, making the branches look slick and drooping. It looked like the vegetation was covered in slime, perpetually wet and squishy. She longed to reach out and touch it, but she remained still, thumping her small, right hand against and equally small, right thigh.

To her left, darkness; an odd blackness that promised to be uninviting and harmful. To her right, an eerie white light; a color that promised to be inviting, but could be as harmful as the dark opposite it. Behind her, a large pool of marshy water filled with an unknown variety of dangerous and poisonous critters. No direction looked safe, but she needed to move. Needed to explore and figure out why she was suddenly here.

Suddenly not on a ship with her Master or General Iroh.

With a whiny grunt, she stood and examined her short arms and legs, teeny torso, and breast-less chest covered in a kimono that had been destroyed years ago. Feeling the once-familiar fabric, she held back a scream and stumbled backward, stepping a bare foot down into the marsh. The water was warm and seemed to tug at her foot, but Koori tore her heel from it and turned around. She fell to her knees and dug into the murky water, tossing clumps of brownish green muck behind her shoulder so she could see her reflection.

The water was too dark to see, so she inhaled. A beautiful white flame burst from her palm and she gazed lovingly at it. She wanted to hug it, caress it, and tell the flames that she missed them. But that was insane. Instead, she looked downward and stared.

Staring back at her was a little girl. Somebody foreign yet oddly familiar.

A child version of her.

A little girl, long forgotten. A little girl, long grown up.

She screamed. It was a clipped yelp and she tumbled backward, landing on her butt with a harsh, "Oomph!"

And then she rolled to her front, rocked to her knees, and scrambled to her feet, using a tree branch for support. When she was finally upright and her heavy, panicked breathing receded, she looked around and located the bright light. She set off for it at a brisk pace, hoping that it wasn't dangerous. Maybe it was friendly.

She walked for a long while, but she didn't seem to be getting anywhere. Granted, her little legs made her stride significantly shorter, which made her journey considerably longer, but she should've been gaining more ground than…this.

"I passed that tree before, right?"

Puzzled, she stopped. Her big toe wiggled into the ground, making the moss underfoot squelch and gurgle. The sound made her skin crawl and she huffed while stopping.

"Where am I?" she snarled, frustrated that she hadn't made any progress.

She didn't expect a response and thankfully, none came.

But she kicked the tree anyway.

Her toes squealed with the impact and she collapsed to the ground, wailing like the little girl she suddenly was, nursing her bruised, stubbed toes with her tiny digits.

"I don't know where I am," she pouted. "I don't know how I got here. I just…I just…" She looked skyward and raged, "I just want to go home!"

"Home…home…home…"

The echo was chilling and it didn't seem to end. Koori wanted to drown it out so she screamed at the air, shrieked her frustrations away. When her breath failed her and became more of a squawk instead of a shriek, she curled into herself and sat, bottom lip trembling.

She ogled at the murky wanter and leaned toward it. Though it was dank and dirty, she could use it to scrub her face, refresh her skin. Maybe even take a sip. But the very instant her fingers touched the surface, a bright blue orb launched itself to the surface. Frightened, Koori reeled and tried to flail backward, distance herself from the oddity. But it jutted forward and changed its shape. It morphed into a languid rope and spread itself out, one end wrapped around her leg while the other continued onward, into the marsh and beyond.

"Am I supposed to go into the water?"

She waited for a reply, but got none. The water remained determinedly silent and rippled suggestively. Taking the waves as a response, Koori submerged one dainty foot and then the other. Ankle deep in dirty water, she plodded onward, following the light.

Stumbling through the water as it got waist high, Koori reached out to steady herself with a thick vine. The moment she touched the slippery greenery, the water swelled up and propelled her forward with a humongous wave. It carried her through the marsh and stopped at a bank, lifting her over the edge with a careful nudge before it disappeared back into the muck.

Koori staggered away from the edge and continued to follow the blue line on the ground. It led her deep into the swamp, deep into the darkness of its heart. Frightened of the dark, she lit up her hand with a beautiful white flame so she could see.

"Koori!"

She came to an abrupt halt. The voice was familiar, but when she turned around to see who called, peered into the haunting darkness, there was nobody there. Creeped out, she continued to follow the blue line. Though, now she was practically running.

It continued up a narrow hill, thickly overgrown with a medley of trees. And Koori began climbing. At one point, her foot slipped and her hands grew achy, threatening to let go. But she felt an unidentifiable presence against her back, steadying her and making sure that she didn't fall. More creeped out than ever, she flung herself over the edge of the embankment and sprinted, still following the blue line.

When she got to a thicket, the trail disappeared and she huffed, circling, thinking that it would reformulate and send her in another direction if she gave it enough time. But after a few minutes of listening to the trickling water and the pulse of swamp life—hisses, chirps, and croaks—she gave up and thumped against the crook of a nearby tree.

"Hellooooooo!" she called out, still optimistic. "I thought you were taking me somewhere! Hellooooooooo!"

Again, nothing responded. So she leaned into the tree and found a comfy spot. She was exhausted and needed to sleep. And hopefully, when she woke, she'd be back on the ship, back with her Master or General Iroh. Her golden eyes blearily closed with exhaustion. But they snapped open the moment a shadowy figure walked by.

Squinting, Koori jumbled forward, out of her nook and toward the shadow. It was another little girl. She was walking with practiced steps, like she had spent her life growing up in the swamp. Maybe she lived in the heart of the marsh, but her attire was strange if she was, indeed, a swamp-girl.

Swamp-girl wore a dark purple, wintery cloak that billowed out against the mossy ground. It entranced the slave and Koori trailed after her, reaching for her with two empty, tiny hands.

"H-hello?" Koori asked the strange girl as she continued walking away. The slave wanted to catch the swamp-girl's attention, but she seemed determined to continue onward. "Do you know where we are?"

The purple-clad girl inhaled slowly and finally turned, her stance irritated. Her tan skin was flawless, expression bored. But it was her eyes and hair that caught the slave's attention. Blue eyes. Perfectly blue, like the deepest, untouched portion of the ocean when the sun or moon caught it at the right angle. And white hair; immaculately straightened and beautifully pinned back in an elegant braid.

Koori's breath hitched. She knew this girl—had played with this girl. Had traveled to distant worlds and laughed with this girl. Befriended her…and betrayed her. Told her to 'Go away!'

"Y-Yue?"

Excellent! You've finished! Worth the wait? Eh. Maybe. You probably wanted more Zhao/Koori/maybe baby time. But a few issues had to be addressed first. And though I'm still not entirely satisfied with how this chapter turned out (I'll probably find myself editing it once again in the near future) I wanted to post it because it's been forever.

Trust me, I noticed, too.

But I was doing a lot of different things while struggling to write! Promise! Here's a small snippet...

Watched You on Netflix, which I totally recommend. I liked it so much that I actually went to the library (who even goes to those anymore?) and borrowed the book. Read the book. Loved it, too. I'm on hold for the second one.

Watched The Umbrella Academy. Worth the time, but I called the ending from the first episode.

Read a few Beauty and the Beast related books because I had a sketchy dream one night about Katara and Zuko that was themed that way, but way, way more weird. So I jotted the dream down and then seriously typed it out. Beauty Is the Beast is officially started. Have fun, readers.

Wrote another chapter of Allakha-Poof. Gosh, I love messing with Zhao. And the best part is that he's still pretty much in character.

Realized I gained about 15lbs over the past 3 years so I started to go to the gym and eating better. I'm proud to say that I'm officially down about 4lbs. Go me!

Spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital. Though, I wasn't the patient; my dad was/is. Unfortunately, my papa bear doesn't really take good care of himself or make good life choices. He spent 6 weeks in the hospital last year (18 days in a coma, which scared the hell outta me) and still didn't get scared straight, if you know what I mean. Though, he did quit smoking, which I guess I'm proud of. But the man is 350lbs and he needs to start thinking long-term if he wants to see his gosh darn grandbabies! But I guess we'll see...

I wrote the final chapter of S1 of Someday, My Prince Will Come. So prepare yourself. Invest in tissues. Lots of them.

I got a promotion at work, which is amaze-balls. But it came with a new work schedule. 4:30am-1:00pm. Who does that? Crazy people...and now me, apparently. My sleeping schedule is waaaaay jacked up, which is eating into my writing time.

There were a bunch of other things that happened, but I just wanted to let you know that I tried very, very hard to write whenever I could. And it all led up to tonight. Glorious, beautiful tonight!

Let me know what you thought and if you think I need to seriously consider looking through this chapter again. Honestly, I'm not the biggest fan. It was so technical and involved to many hours of research that I was afraid I got carried away and ended up missing the main point. Though, in the end, Iroh got what he wanted: confirmation that Koori was the Phoenix. He even helped her out with a personal problem. Go him!

But at what cost? Because now Zhao's in his room, fuming, ready to freaking murder him. And Koori is stuck...in a swamp of all places. With a special guest.

Let me know!