Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

The Phoenix

Here's a little background before you start this story:

This is an AU- Canon Divergence of sorts. In this story, Zuko wasn't in the South Pole when Aang was released from the iceberg. Instead, he first got wind of the Avatar and his traveling companions riding on a sky bison around the time of "The Warriors of Kyoshi". He never catches up with them, only narrowly missing them every time they land. The story line with Aang, Katara, and Sokka is relatively the same, only without Prince Zuko foiling plans or almost getting away with capturing Aang. This story will begin around the events of "The Storm". Lastly, Zuko DOES NOT have the bald head with the ponytail like in Book 1. Instead, it's just the ponytail, like he had before he was banished. Also, it's the same year, but all of the characters are aged up by two years (Zuko-18, Sokka-17, Katara-16, and Aang-14) for purposes to be served later in the story. I also believe with the aging of the characters, more maturity can be life-changing in some situations.

Arc 1: Water

Chapter 1: Banished

Spring 97 ASC

He stood on the edge of the canyon, looking out into the fog-covered cliffs. His mind was settled on one thing, and one thing only. His whole world had just crashed around him and the only way he could get it back was by completing an impossible task that could take him the rest of his life. It wasn't like he had a choice, really. He had done something he had thought was right, but in the end suffered the consequences of his own loose lips and short temper. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with him, and now he was reaping the punishment.

As he raked his thoughts for his best plan of action, he heard someone approach him from behind. He barely glanced out of the corner of his right eye to see a stout man, dressed in the reds, black, and gold of his nation stand next to him, giving him a look full of concern and pity.

"Prince Zuko, you need to rest," the man said in a soft voice. "A man needs his rest."

"I won't rest until I find the Avatar, Uncle Iroh," Zuko replied, glaring at the man as harshly as he could. He turned back to the cliffs and took a deep breath. The early evening air filled his lungs, sending a shiver down his spine. The moon was starting to rise over the horizon and glowed a dim yellow, barely lighting the skies. If it wasn't for his self-loathing and the agony filling his heart, he would have found the sight quite beautiful.

Iroh sighed and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. When Zuko glanced down at him again, he commented wearily, "The Avatar hasn't been seen in almost a hundred years. Even if you're right and he is alive, you won't find him. Your father, your grandfather and your great-grandfather were all unsuccessful."

Zuko weakly pulled his shoulder away from his uncle and countered, "Because their honor didn't rest on finding him. He's my only ticket home. And I'm going to search every corner of the world until I find him. We'll search all of the Air Temples and then to the most remote places on the earth."

Iroh shook his head and exhaled a deep breath. He grabbed Zuko's shoulder again and implored, "Prince Zuko, you've only been banished for a week. You still need to heal. I think it would be best if we went back to the ship and had a nice warm cup of calming jasmine tea."

"I don't need any calming tea, Uncle," Zuko snapped as he turned and faced Iroh, staring at him with his uncovered right eye. He blinked once and added, "I need to capture the Avatar."

Iroh stared at his nephew with sympathy, his eyes focusing on the white gauze and bandages wrapping the left side of his face, centralized over Zuko's eye. He smiled with slight pity again and patted Zuko's shoulder. Zuko didn't return the smile as he watched Iroh walk back to their small "campsite", which was just a fire and two bags with small provisions, like food and changes of clothes. After Iroh began rummaging through his bag, Zuko turned back around and focused back onto the cliff side and the canyon below.

How easy would it be if I just jumped and ended it right now? He thought sadly to himself as he looked down into the fog. No hunting the Avatar, no dealing with this- he lifted his left hand and gingerly placed it on the bandage, flinching once his fingers touched the gritty cloth- until the end of my days. I can just be burnt on the pyre like he burnt my face.

He heaved a sigh. Deep down, he knew that would be wrong. And dishonorable on his part, forcibly leaving the world like that. It would be shameful, and insulting to his own family. The Royal family. He couldn't do that, even if he was the dishonored banished Prince of the Fire Nation. He had to start acting with honor, bringing it not only to himself but to his people by capturing the elusive Avatar and taking him to the Fire Lord, his father. Steeling himself with a frown and sparring one last glance at the canyon below, Zuko returned back to the camp. Once in the fire light, he spotted Iroh pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Changed your mind about the tea?" he said with slight glee as he looked up and saw Zuko enter the camp. Zuko just shook his head and sat down across the fire from his uncle, staring into the flames. Even as a firebender, the sight of fire right now was starting to make him cringe. He tore his gaze away and stared at his pointed-toe boots instead. Iroh must have noticed Zuko's aversion to the fire and sighed. "I know it's late, nephew. But let's head back to the ship. I think you would get a better night's sleep with fresh salve and a warm bed."

Zuko lifted his head and locked his one eye with his uncle. He felt the nagging desire to argue, but his exhaustion from the days excursion finally hit him full force. His warm bed and a heavy dose of pain medication sounded like heaven to him. So instead of a snarky retort, Zuko nodded and stood, gathering their small amount of belongings. He kept his back to Iroh and the fire, avoiding both completely.

"Prince Zuko," Iroh started. Zuko turned around and glared at his uncle as he shoved his canteen into his bag. Iroh sighed and approached the teen on the other side of the fire. He placed his hand on Zuko's left shoulder and smiled as he insisted gently, "Why don't you put out the fire, nephew? It will be good practice. Especially since we'll continue your training soon. Once you've healed enough."

Zuko just looked at Iroh with irritation before he nodded solemnly and stared at the fire, focusing all of his energy on snuffing it. The orange flames flickered in his eyes and for a moment, he thought he saw the outline of his father, winding back his right hand and swinging it around. He gasped and turned away from the blaze, squeezing his good eye closed. Iroh shook his head and extinguished the fire with a wave of his hand.

"Let's get going," Iroh sighed and lifted his pack over his shoulder, Zuko did the same with his own. The two men walked together in silence along the edge of the canyon, their path lit by the moon in the sky and the flame in Iroh's palm. Every couple of minutes, Zuko looked over his left shoulder towards the cliffs, his earlier musings coming back every time his eyes went to the fog. But after one glance at his uncle catching him looking back with a worried look in his eyes, Zuko faced forward, vowing that he needed to look forward no matter what.

Winter 100 ASC

He should have looked behind him. He should have disregarded his stupid rule for once. If he did, he wouldn't have gotten hit with a piece of metal from the hull of his ship. If he did, he wouldn't be fighting for dear life in the ocean, battling the angry currents of the dark abyss. Zuko scorned himself as another wave crashed over him and sent him below the depths once more. For an eighteen-year-old Prince, Zuko felt pretty stupid.

If father finds out I died by drowning, that would be rich. Almost as bad as getting blown up by pirates or something.

He broke the surface and panted for air. The outline of his ship in the storm fading into the blackness. He was trying to grasp onto some false hope that he was going to make it. Something that could bring him to safety. He prayed to every God he could think of, even the ones from the Water Tribes, just so he could live to fight another day.

It was weird thinking that just an hour ago, he received a messenger hawk telling him the Avatar had been spotted in a nearby town. It was just around a month ago that gossip began spreading about a young monk travelling on a sky bison with two Water Tribesmen. Zuko had never seen the group yet, but he was determined to spot them and capture the last airbender. He would fight until his last breath, he vowed.

Zuko laughed to himself about the irony, because as he was thrown around in the ravaging salt water, he realized that he was, in fact, fighting for his last breath. And the Avatar would never be his.

He was starting to give up hope and slowly stopped fighting the current. It's all over now, he thought to himself. I should have just jumped into the canyon three years ago and saved myself the trouble of drowning like a coward.

Coward.

The word rang in his ears, echoing the voice of his furious father.

Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!

He was pushed under again, the salt water stinging his eyes and burning his throat. His lungs screamed for oxygen, the pressure inside his chest feeling like they were about to explode at any second.

You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.

He broke the surface again once more, gasping for air. Water thrashed around him, rain splattered against his face and another current pushed him around like a rag doll. He didn't have time to break his own rule and turn around to realize that he was going to be hit with another colossal wave. And because of that, he didn't have time to spot an uprooted tree trunk speeding towards him.

After the initial hit and immense pain throbbing at the back of his skull, Zuko felt fuzzy and lost all control of his senses. His vision swam and his body slackened. His eyes felt heavy and his sight went dark, but the thoughts kept echoing in his mind.

Suffering will be your teacher.

With a final breath, Zuko's own voice whispered out into the stormy night, "Haven't I suffered enough?"

A trio of travelers all jumped off the fluffy white bison onto the wet sand of the beach. After the huge storm, they had left the fishing village they had been trapped in and headed along the coast in search of supplies. A young warrior with a short ponytail scanned the beach for any dangers. He turned to his companions dubbed it okay for the other two to set up a campsite. A younger boy leapt off the bison's head and landed like a feather in the sand. His bald head with blue arrow tattoos reflected the shining sun. His yellow and orange robes fluttered in the slight wind and he chuckled when he uplifted some sand in his landing, covering their pet lemur with a coat of it.

Then there was a young woman. She slid down the side of the bison and landed gracefully by its feet. She readjusted her light blue tunic and wrist bindings after tossing her long brown braid back over her shoulder. Her blue eyes scanned the ocean and she took a deep breath, happily inhaling the sea air.

"This place is perfect!" she exclaimed as she twirled in the sand. "I love being so close to water! Aang! We can practice some of our bending while we're here!"

The younger boy turned from playing with the chattering lemur to grin widely at her as he replied in a chipper tone, "Okay, Katara!"

She turned and saw that the older boy had climbed back into the bison's saddle and began unloading their supplies. Katara grinned up at him and then turned to level area in the sand, where she quickly pushed some aside and surrounded the hole with rocks. When she finished, she looked down with pride at their new campfire hole.

"Sokka," she called to the older boy. He peeked over the edge of the bison's saddle. She gestured to the fire pit, "I'm going to get some firewood. Then we'll make dinner. Deal?"

Sokka nodded before throwing another bag out of the saddle and replying, "Be careful."

"When am I not?" she called over her shoulder as she walked down the beach. She kept on the edge of the forest, picking up kindling and some larger logs as she went. The sun was setting over the ocean and Katara couldn't help but stop and enjoy the colors reflecting in the water. It was so serene, the calm after the storm. She was about to turn away to gather more wood and head back to camp, but something caught her eye.

Washed up on the shore was something dark. For a second, she thought it was just seaweed or something like that considering the storm had been pretty bad and most likely brought a lot of debris onto shore. But as she focused and looked closer, she realized it was a person. Gasping, Katara dropped the wood at the edge of the forest and sprinted to the water line.

She skidded in the sand and knelt next to the body. She could see that he was still breathing, but just barely. He had a gash on the back of his head and his ponytail was half-ripped out of its ribbon. He was wearing a long sleeved dark red tunic and black pants, both trimmed with gold. His all black boots were distressed and worn in on the soles.

Fire Nation.

Katara gasped and scooted away, almost ready to abandon him on the beach and let the tide take him. But with another glance at his vulnerable body, she quickly decided against it. I won't ever turn my back on someone who needs me.

She gently grabbed his right shoulder and rolled him to his back so she could get a better look at him. His head stayed turned to the left. She traced her hand above his chest, bending the water out of his lungs and throat. Since she lived in the South Pole and was surrounded with water, she quickly learned the practices of removing water from the lungs in the case of an accidental drowning. As the only waterbender in the entire South Pole, she had to learn that skill fairly quickly.

Once the water was removed, the man coughed violently and rolled back onto his side, rolling into the fetal position and shivering violently. Katara looked around and spotted Aang and Sokka in the distance, still setting up their camp. She couldn't just leave this guy here. But if the boys knew he was Fire Nation, they probably would want to leave him here and fly somewhere else for the night.

No. We have to help him. Maybe he's not that bad. Katara braced herself and stood over the stranger. She grasped the underside of his armpits and dragged him through the sand towards the edge of the forest, just to keep him safe from the tide and roaming eyes of any passing ships. Once in the grass, she gently laid him down and brushed his loose hair away from his eyes.

That's when she saw it. The scar.

Against his pale skin, it was a sharp contrast. An angry, comet-shaped red mark spreading from the corner of his eye all the way back to his mangled ear, covering his cheek and a small portion of his forehead. The scar was darker around his eye socket and Katara was surprised to see a slit for his eye. The skin looked incredibly rough and unyielding.

He must have been through so much, she thought. I'm going to help him, no matter what.

With that notion, she stood and looked down at the stranger.

"I'm going to get help," she said quietly to him, not knowing or caring if he could hear her. "I'll be right back."

Then she turned and sprinted to their campsite, forgetting the firewood she had thrown down.

The two boys followed her, neither speaking after what she just told them. Someone from the Fire Nation had washed up on the shore. He had a scar. That's all they knew, only because the guy was unconscious and Katara needed help bringing him back to their campsite, much to Sokka's disdain.

Though with much pleading, Katara convinced the two to help her carry him back. After hoisting the body, Sokka and Aang carried the limp man to their site. They laid him on Katara's spare bedroll and she covered him with their extra blankets. He was still shivering, but nothing was blue. They all stared in silence as the man slept. Sokka kept a tight grip on his machete, Aang was practically cowering behind his staff, and Katara leaned forward hopefully, waiting for the stranger to open his eyes.

"We should wake him up," Sokka said after a few minutes. The other two stared at him with wide eyes but he just shrugged it off. "We need to know who this guy is. We haven't met any firebenders yet and I don't want to make the mistake of letting our guard down in front of the first one we happen to stumble upon. We need to get info out on our terms."

After a beat of silence, Katara stood and knelt next to the stranger. His breathing had evened out and his skin gained a little color, but not much. Katara assumed that was because he was naturally so pale. She hesitantly gripped his shoulder, marveling at how warm he was even through his now dry shirt. Not feverish, just warm. She shook him once and he groaned. His voice was raspy and deep, so deep that Katara assumed he must be older than the two other boys she was currently travelling with. She shook him again and his eyes fluttered open.

Katara was shocked to see the pure gold color of his irises, staring right up to her. He looked confused and kept his mouth shut, just staring at the girl above him in curiosity and bewilderment.

"Hi," she said awkwardly. He just stared at her with wide eyes, one much wider than the other. He wasn't flinching or anything, just staring. Then he looked at the two boys behind her, one glaring daggers and the other wide-eyed in fascination.

"Where am I?" he asked quietly. He looked back at the girl above him, so many questions lingering in his eyes. He looked like a startled cat-deer, eyes wide and body stiff.

"You're on a beach in the Earth Kingdom," Katara replied as calmly as she could, certain to not try and frighten him. "What's your name?"

The stranger sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with the heel of his right hand, "Uhh…"

"Do you not remember?" Aang asked hesitantly. The stranger looked at him with confused eyes, the same eyes going unfocused as he thought heavily about the question that had just been asked. He was frozen at first, but shook his head after a moment of deliberation.

"No," he responded dejectly. "I don't…"

"Do you remember anything?" Sokka asked bluntly.

"Sokka," Katara reprimanded as she glared at her brother. She turned back to the stranger and smiled. "What's the last thing you remember?"

He paused and raked his thoughts, eyes unfocusing again. After a minute or two he shook his head and rubbed his right eye and grimaced. "I remember being at home. Feeding turtleducks. But that's it."

"Are you from the Fire Nation?"

The stranger snapped his head up and stared at the warrior across the fire, who was still glaring at him after asking that question. There nothing but confusion in his eyes when he replied, "I think so. I'm not sure."

The trio all stared wide-eyed at the man lying on the ground. He lifted his good brow and waited for a response. But he paused for a moment and tried opening his left eye wider.

"Is my eye swollen?" he asked innocently, looking to Katara for the answer. "I can't seem to open it as wide as my right one."

With wide eyes, she turned and stared at a stunned Sokka and Aang. Both shrugged their shoulders and Katara knelt back down next to their guest. Hesitantly, she lifted her hand and delicately placed it on the edge of his scar. His good eye went wide and he began to look terrified.

"Why can't I feel that?!" He moved away from her touch. "What's going on?!"

Scrambling to his feet, he kicked away the blankets that had tangled around his ankles and sprinted to the water. He knelt down in the sand and stared at his reflection. Stunned into silence, he lifted his hand and touched the deformity on his face, tears falling down his cheeks and splashing into the water.

A/N This chapter has been revised on November 20, 2013.