The first thing Zuko noticed was that the door didn't open into a room, but an unnaturally dark hallway. He instantly craned his neck, leaning back to see the corner back inside the temple. He scowled. There was no such structure from what he'd seen, so it couldn't be as deep as it looks. His eyes lingered on a seemingly distant flickering flame, the slight scuff of his boot sharp in the dead silence, and ever so near the pulsing gloom.
Nearly a hundred elite soldiers and decorated firebenders stood in a half circle behind him, Zhao front and center, and every one of them trying and failing to make sense of the sight ahead as they stood ready for battle.
General Iroh stood nearest, cautioning with a rare dread, "Ahh, I do not think you should go in there." And he slowly reached for Zuko, like the slightest mistake could get everyone killed. Zuko just swung around with a dirty look aimed at Shyu, "what is this, sage?! Where is he?!"
Shyu just jerked, timidly cringing at the accusation, only mouthing useless excuses without a sound, and looking like he was struggling not to turn and flee.
"Light it up, Prince Zuko!" Zhao snapped, impatient. "The Avatar is inside, is he not!?"
Zuko's face twisted. He was already going to, but now he kind of didn't want to since Zhao ordered it. He took a deep breath of frustration, stepped back into a stable stance, and thrust out his palm as he sharply exhaled. His eyes flickered, then snapped shut at the surprise blinding flash! "Agh!" he growled. It was no trap, but simply Arzayanagi turning his flame into a raging surge of power he barely had the chance to witness before it was swallowed up by the impenetrable shadows.
Several others also winced and seethed at the burst of light. Most leaned forward after, wondering what just happened and why it was still just black.
"What was that supposed to be?!" Zhao taunted, although sounded genuinely annoyed too.
Zuko rubbed his eyes with his forearm, darting a gaze to the most irritating blur—probably Zhao—and barked back, "how should I know?!"
"Ugh... just get out of the way," Zhao grumbled, and punched forward, sending a burst of forceful, thick flames into the gloom, also magnified by Arzayanagi's presence, causing Zuko to clench his teeth as he dropped fast to a crouch to avoid it. But it too simply faded away the instant it passed the doors. "What the..." he trailed off.
The soldiers were getting a biiiiit shifty, with a few sidling back ever so slightly.
Zuko leaned forward instead, peering into the void, and he could not fathom the gloom, but something caught his eye just inside the door, on the narrow band of visible, polished obsidian with delicate golden inlay. A pool on the black stone. Not water, nor oil, but... gold?
A thin slick of it had pooled at the seam where the door met the floor, like it had been dripping from it on the inside. Before anyone could tell him not to. His glove brushed the stone. The gold clung to his fingertip. It was warm, and smelled... very unexpected.
"Zuko!" Iroh harshly warned, "touch nothing in there! That is a realm for spirits, not men!"
Completely humorless, Zuko turned to face Iroh, his fingertip in his mouth, the slight glint of liquid gold still on his glove. "Tastes like... spicy gravy." He shrugged, sounding bored.
Iroh had a look of absolute horror, and even Zhao was astonished beyond words that the prince actually just tasted the unknown spirit goo. It was a teenage overconfidence beyond adult understanding. Holding fast even as he rose again to his feet, and found his nose an inch away from a familiar face perfectly molded in solid gold. Around it not a headdress, but smooth silk as a tight cloak hood.
Zuko narrowed his eyes, the less fit men behind him gasped, and after he scanned the inanimate visage to conclusion, with zero caution, he demanded, "why does your face look like that?" Like he wasn't about to get his ass haunted.
Iroh made a small choking sound that became a gagging cough.
Others behind whispered mixtures of questions about who or what the hell was emerging from the darkness.
There was a guttural and rattling but powerful deep chuckle from the being before him. "Ahaha, why does hers?" she rasped, giving Zuko the slightest shred of direct attention, before simply...
Zuko flew back, feeling like he'd been hit by a shout made of steel, but it made scarcely a sound as some form of bending he'd never felt rippled through him. Sailing through the air, his focus was heightened, and he twisted, seeing his uncle also thrown back, as well as the closest ring of soldiers, all crashing back into others, and his heart refused to beat until he'd managed to crash feet first sideways into one of the grand pillars, dropping down without much injury, but seeing Arzayanagi clatter to the floor beside him.
"Firebenders! Attaaaack!" Zhao bellowed over the panicked shouts.
The air got very, very hot.
The gold-plated and silk strewn form of Arzaya slithered and bobbed oddly out of the pitch to place to wet slaps of gold oozing boots upon the real stone of the Fire Sage's Temple, seeming unconcerned with the army around her. Flames engulfed her from a dozen directions, and she was motionless as she went obscured.
"Zuko, get back!" Iroh insisted, scrambling to his feet and trying to drag the prince away, while he was still recklessly glaring at the vile thing they had just released.
Shyu dropped to his knees amidst the chaos, just beside Zuko and Iroh, he had his hands clasped in prayer, tears streaming down his cheeks. "She who cracks the riverbeds," he whispered, eyes glazed, voice shaking.
Zhao shoved past the line of soldiers, face bright with arrogant certainty. "Defeat the Avatar! Don't hold back!"
Fire bloomed from a dozen fists. Orange tongues, precise, practiced. The chamber lit like a festival for a heartbeat. The flames hit the gold-armored thing and vanished. Not deflected. Not dodged. Just… gone, snuffed like her armor caught and kept them. Arzaya barely reacted. She rose, slow, unnatural, feet dangling just off the obsidian floor, dripping gold.
"Fire," her voice rasped, dry and rattling like a throat forged in flame, "cannot be burned."
Zhao, looking very frustrated at his reeling and shocked soldiers, was not yet afraid himself, and he simply barked, "it's fireproof armor, capture her!"
Many moved up, not in the biggest hurry, but one soldier lunged in close, driven beyond discipline as he saw that masked face suddenly tilt to face him, and he let out a strangled cry as he thrust his spear at it. There was a shriek of metal, but a strike home at her throat, on one of few places she wore only sheer grey.
"I said CAPTURE!" Zhao howled fast, but too late, and clenching his fingers as he took another stomp forward.
Arzaya sank, her feet touching the stone again as she went limp, and the soldier didn't hear Zhao behind him, too transfixed on the rush of gold running down his spear, and the sight of the ancient being's wound closing the instant he pulled the spear free, like nothing had happened at all. Other soldiers surrounded her, placing her in a prison of spear shafts as they edged closer, if it still even mattered from what he could tell.
Zhao forcefully spun the overzealous spearman around, pure hate on his face, but the soldier was still just stunned. "It… it's n-not blood," he stammered, retreating half a step without meaning to as Zhao tugged him back. "G-gold... she's n-not human!"
"She who bleeds go-o-old! Ha-ha!" Shyu stammered with an incomprehensibly blissful but terrified smile, on his knees and quickly bowing again to Arzaya, although no one had time to worry what he was up to.
"Death," Arzaya intoned, lifting her head with that calm, superior stillness, as another barely visible pulse emanated from her with a flick of her wrist, and the spearmen holding her down were scattered back several paces, some head over heels. She rose back into the air, hands held aloft again as if on strings. "Does not die." Pitter-patter went the steady ooze of gold from her dangling metal boots.
Another soldier yelped. "Wh-what is she?! Monster!"
Seeing Zuko awkwardly hunched over and chasing after a clattering Arzayanagi, Zhao's eye twitched, "Zuko!" He raged. "Why this claim the Avatar is a boy?! Whatever you're up to, you can forget sharing credit for defeating her!"
"Are you stupid?! You think I know who the fuck THAT is?!" Zuko instantly snapped his head back around to scream, snatching up Arzayanagi, letting out a huffing breath the sent scorching flames to his toes, and although Zuko went unaware of it in his focused irritation, the raw power oozing from him as he held the spear sent Zhao stepping back, slack-jawed and for a moment blank.
The soldiers surged, not much caring about Zhao's orders at this point and just wanting the horribly ghostly woman to die already, or at least care a little they were attacking her. Palms stuck forward for another barrage of intense flames, all swirling and sucked up by her thousands of golden scales again, and a well drilled charge of spears followed the cinders. Arzaya suddenly shifted, not touching the ground as her hands jolted one way, then another in a sweeping bending style lost for millennia, that also looked like it would really hurt to do. The spears slowed, the spearman's feet cautious, their eyes wide.
Shyu whispered faster, voice cracking, rocking in place huddled on his knees. "She who bends the trees! She who drinks the tides!" He prayed like his life depended on it.
Hanging like a depraved tapestry, one too skinny knee up and her hands having finished some rapid, complex bending pattern, Arzaya did not need to dodge the charge. Each man panicked, beyond all reason, no cause the firebenders could witness. Spears dropped, or were tossed, some collapsed to their knees and wept, others scrambled, shrieking away from her, a few stood still and dazed, two seemed to collapse unconscious in a loud clatter of armor... possibly dead.
"What is HAPPENING!? Who is that, uncle?!" Zuko growled. "Where is the Avatar?!" he shouted to anyone and everyone, even Arzaya. "And why does her mask look like my mother?!" he shrieked in irritation upon anger, almost freakishly loud.
Instead of a response, Zuko was annoyed to just get a tug on his sleeve, just as he intended to see if the weird floating crazy lady was fond of being hit in her incredibly offensive face with Arzayanagi. "Z-Zuko, we should get out of here!" Iroh hissed in an incredibly rare moment of genuine terror.
"Stop it, please! Make it stop!" a spearman on his knees cried out, pleading and so desperate he was reaching out to Arzaya, over whatever she had done to his mind.
"God," she said, almost gently. But she oh-so viciously cackled, "Does. Not. Stop. Ha-ha-ha-haha..."
Iroh tugged again, Zuko momentarily transfixed on the sight of the spearman apparenly foaming at the mouth, then toppling over as the hovering entity bobbed forward, slowly, like she was testing each foray further from that accursed dark hole of a door. "Zuko! LOOK!" Iroh furiously insisted.
He turned his head, and wasn't... quite sure what to make of it. Some of the scattering, fearful men seemed to be smoothly suddenly transitioning into confident strides, towards the stairs and other exits and... his heart sank. Four drenched elderly men stood there, withered and pale, almost too obviously dead with their heads lolled aside, and waterlogged blood soaked down their grey sleepwear. Jaggedly severed sticky throats. In each heart, a small dagger was plunged, golden handled and of Arzayan design, with a trickle of that same golden fluid that was on the floor, that was dripping from the horrible thing, and that he... yuck.
Zhao had started shouting orders again, "hold the line, you fools! Where are you going, I did NOT order a retreat!"
A few disciplined men turned to try face Arzaya again. Fire went extinguished, spears turned away in terror, and with another pulse even more soldiers were thrown back, adding injuries, terror, and hopelessness, until there was a sudden moment where it was obvious to Zuko. Morale had shattered. Every one of Zhao's men was scrambling and scattering, sick of their attacks having no effect, and they stumbled right into some of the first men who fled, who had turned back to face them, and others did double takes at the oddly... dead... old sages standing shoulder to shoulder with them.
Zuko staggered back, sensing something very wrong. And as he raised Arzayanagi, it suddenly flared in his hand, stinging his palm, and he held onto it, able to tell it was clearly important, but had to shake off his hand with a seething breath. All the torch flames were suddenly pulling towards Arzayanagi, gone as unnoticed by everyone else as Zhao bellowing, "Hold her down! Do whatever it takes to stop her!"
Iroh's eyes were wide now, not just with fear, but with recognition too. With the horrible, quiet knowledge of a man who had read too many old scrolls and lived long unfortunately enough to see legends crawl out of them. Zuko saw him taking a solid bending stance, but facing away from everyone, and just ended up even more frustrated.
"What, why?" Zuko spun back and forth in momentary confusion himself.
The walls and floors groaned, gravel and grit falling as the wall of fleeing soldiers scrambled for exits, running into each other as they failed to piece together every way out was already blocked. A horrible groaning, metallic noise echoed louder and louder from the pitch black void. The line of soldiers and sages at the stairs drew weapons, and the line of men trying to find any way out was finally forced to rush them.
"Mmm, ha-ha-ha..." Arzaya was content to just watch with satisfaction, apparently.
"Get out of the WAY!" a soldier shouted, shoving at the rear line.
"Are you crazy?!"
"She's a monster!"
"Something else is coming, ugh, from that door!" A ragged, coughing voice came.
"We're all gonna die if you don't let us out!" A final soldier begged, thinking it must be some order from Zhao.
The men blocking the stairs didn't move. Their helmets turned, slow and synchronized.
"We know," they all said, and Zuko noticed, so did she... and she was bending again, that jerking almost inhuman strange style.
They attacked. Steel flashed. Fire flared. Near a fifth of Zhao's men, somehow traitors? Zuko watched blood spray in disbelief, Fire Nation soldiers on fellow warrior, the suddenly reckless firebenders blasting their comrades point blank, sending men flying. Spears and swords clattered in such a racket indoors, Zuko winced.
Shyu, still on his knees and just below the floating figure, looked up in wild-eyed, fanatic praise. "Arzaya! Arzaya! Arzaya!" He chanted, but there was such terror in his tremor.
"Arzayan traitors!" Zhao roared, somewhere in the melee. "Kill them all!" A burst of flames from the admiral saw many men dodging aside, but one of the withered, bloodless sages, palm outstretched in stiff firebending of his own, stood in place and was engulfed.
The old man was blackened to a crisp, unrecognizable as he swayed forward, like he was the last to learn he had died a while ago, but then collapsed. Utterly still.
Zuko stepped back, and blasted flames at two men, spirits know whose side they were on, and they reeled back for better or worse, followed by a sudden bright jolt and crack of rock, snapping Zuko's attention aside. Iroh stood there, two smoking fingers pointed at a hole in the solid stone wall. "Prince Zuko, this way!" Iroh shouted.
Hearing a pained shriek and being spattered from afar with blood on his cheek, Zuko stood and stared at the conflict for one brief moment, judged rapidly participation had zero benefits, and he ducked aside, dashing for the hole as every other way out thronged and clashed with a sudden civil war.
The traitors all fought like they were already dead, even the ones who had just turned. Like they were desperate for blood, theirs or anyone else's, but he glanced back to see Zhao shouting and rallying his men, finally successfully. With his hand on the shattered wall, Iroh leaned over the edge, and gave an "aha!" at sight of a balcony to hop down to.
Zhao's soldiers outnumbered the traitors, and when cornered, they fought just as desperate, and suddenly things were still. The final Arzayan gurgled his last gasp, full of holes and burned far beyond saving. One by one, they fell. And the last sage fell, mouth gaping, and dragging an enemy down with him like a lover to burst into flames, thoroughly ending both.
"Prince Zuko, come on!" Iroh insisted, tugging at him, and making to jump down without him in another breath, but Zuko couldn't quite look away. Was Zhao... actually winning?
Shyu still didn't stand. The only noise in the sudden quiet. "Forgive me, great mother. Forgive my foolishness. I am not worthy to look upon you…" he warbled, to no reaction from her.
The admiral stormed over and kicked Shyu flat on his back, Arzaya having drifted further away, slowing raising her drifting gangly hands, but not facing anyone. "Shut up, traitor," Zhao snapped. "The Fire Lord will have you."
Then Zhao turned, triumphant again, and pointed at the gold-armored figure who had not taken a single hurried step this whole time. "And is that it?" Zhao said, sneering. "Snuck traitors in my ranks, some bad acting?"
Arzaya gave the briefest of nods, and despite her being across the room, he was quite sure it was directed at him. As if... giving him permission? Zhao's soldiers approached the figure in a ragged half-circle, spears leveled again, eyes wide, hands shaking despite themselves.
Zhao's gaze slid to Zuko briefly, smirking at obviously leaving him out of the 'hunt'. "I guess you really are a hundred and twelve," he mocked Arzaya. "An Avatar that old has to rely on cheap tricks, hah."
Zuko didn't even have the energy to be insulted. He stared at the gold mask, at the dripping metal, at the dark door breathing behind her. There was a glint just beyond. Something BIG was in the darkness, just making metal scratching sounds.
"Admiral Zhao!" Zuko shouted, voice firm, trying to give him one last chance to run the hell away, "that's NOT the AVATAR."
Zhao's brow furrowed, offended by confusion. It had been too chaotic to hear before. He even did a double take before starting, "wait, wha—?"
"RIIIISE." Arzaya intoned, her withered hands held aloft, her rattling breath booming and carrying down the halls.
For one last brief pause, nothing happened, and Zhao got to keep thinking it was an act.
Then the bodies of the dead firebenders quivered. Smoke rose from their nostrils, curled between the teeth in their scorched mouths. Breath came, a hollow lifeless wheeze. Then flames, like no other. Even Zuko fled instantly, seeing his uncle already down below, and last he saw were flaming, raging wraiths billowing forth from the dead. Spirits ripped from bodies, glowing white hot spears forming in their hands before they even fully escaped their own ruins. Zhao was shouting. The gold-armored figure was cackling. Zuko felt the rush of air, prepared to roll as he landed a story below, and he was near struck instantly unconscious by the tremendous, wall and floor shattering BOOM above, slamming him hard into the ground.
Before he knew what was happening, Zuko blinked. His uncle was dragging him... his head was spinning. "Hold on to it!" Zuko heard, muffled and distant, and he clutched his hand around... whatever, dragging his boots on the dark stone floor.
"Uncle...?" Zuko breathed out, sounding a bit worried as he saw blood matting his grey hair.
He scarcely remembered staggering out of the temple. On the long walkway, out in the ocean, there were shattered warships, burning and half-sunk in the shallow harbor, others still sailing but damaged, and just a few pristine, too busy helping their sinking comrades to notice him or his uncle.
"What happened..." Zuko groggily muttered.
Iroh pulled him upright. "Dark spirits, I don't know! By my scorched beard, what is that..." he began, he really did has some soot on it, too, but Zuko followed his uncle's gaze up to the now blasted and significantly shorter Fire Temple. "I fear this going to somehow get even worse! Move, Prince Zuko!" He urged.
The door was still there, hanging open to darkness, in the distance. Everything at its level, or above, was gone. And it seemed a much older, and apparently sturdier black polished stone had been underneath the brickwork, like the Fire Temple had been built right on top of another sacred site. It didn't bode well for much, that was for sure, as Zuko carried his steps a bit more gingerly up the ramp to his cruiser.
No sign of Zhao or his men. The fleet was in disorder. Zuko didn't protest when without an order from him they pulled away, out of the harbor, and into the suddenly choppier waters. His own men were shouting in absolute confusion, demanding answers from an Iroh who had few to offer. With his brow furrowed and head finally not spinning, Zuko swore he could see molten gold just beginning to pour over the ridge of the island's active volcano.
* * *
The shrieking lance of white hot fire came out of nowhere.
Faces stung, eyes, blurred, hair fluttered, and breath was held. Arcing even higher, the deadly spear tore through cloudless air, and for that one terrible blink the whole world went dim around those on Appa's back, like the sunlight itself flinched away to make room.
Aang recoiled his arm from the heat, reflexively pulling Appa aside, but the poor sky bison's startled bellow shook everyone again.
Appa's shoulder fur hissed like a brand meeting wet hide, and he clumsily tucked in his weighty paws, not in pain so much as duly aggressive panic, his whole body lurching sideways. The saddle snapped tight throwing everyone against it, not off it, thankfully, but all hands shot for sturdy hold regardless. Except Raven, who the rest saw was dropped to one knee with her palm up in a bending stance whence the spear came, the posture sharp and practiced despite the fact that her eyes were wide like dinner plates, and she was letting out a long strained breath. No one necessarily thought she'd be able to block it, but there was a brief quiet appreciation that she'd try.
As if to punctuate, "You MISSED, you creaky old GHOUL!" she screamed at the horizon, voice sent back like a twirling knife.
Katara's eyes were huge. "Um!" She peeped, reason unclear.
"What?" Raven barked, still half-crouched, bristling. "I'm not letting her think she's scary."
"Ho-o-o bo-o-oy..." Sokka just breathed out, easing his stiff posture slowly.
Only Raven thought that's what Katara or Sokka were on about. Appa wobbled. The sea whirled. The burning spear vanished into the distance.
Pulling the grumbling and moaning sky bison level again, Aang tensely turned halfway back to Raven to say, "welp, I'm pretty scared. Worked on me."
Sokka pointed with a stiff finger, his arm shaking. "Oka-a-ay, but, about that. Look."
They all looked. Crescent Island was visible.
The sky around was ablaze with a dozen or more white-gold streaks, arcing in brutal, messy curves in every direction. Not one clean shot or focused artillery barrage. Dozens of huge smoky pillars were rising among the thinner smokestack trails, unclear from what yet at their distance.
The corner of his mouth clamping, Sokka gestured at the mad display and offered, "looks like a bit of a 'whoops' to me."
Raven quickly stuffed a pinch of fire flakes in her mouth, a nervous habit, and quietly added with noticeable concern, "yeah, uh... that looks like a, hmm... catastrophic misfire."
Katara glanced to Raven, seeing the pain she didn't know she was exposing. "Who... might have used it?" she cautiously asked.
Raven just gave her a wincing look, and then shook it off, her expression sinking back to the typical cold judgment she wore.
"Seriously, how did someone already screw up this bad? We JUST LEFT!" Sokka complained like his entree had been prepared wrong. "Stupid Fire Nation."
"Hey." Raven flatly retorted, it was mandatory.
"You don't count," he dismissively waved.
That didn't seemed to help much, she just gave a dry, "ohh, thanks."
Leaning over either side to peer around Appa's bulky head and horns, the saw that the bay was wound. Several Fire Nation warships sat half-submerged in the shallow water, black smoke crawling up from grievously massive charred gaping holes. Others limped in circles, some damaged, crowded with sailors hauling ropes and bodies and debris, trying to salvage what they could without sinking themselves. No one was in formation. No one was hunting for them. They were too busy trying not to drown.
Aang's stomach turned at the sight, and he briefly wanted to help, but even he knew they'd just attack him for trying. They'd probably even blame it all on him. He saw Raven's gaze flicking wildly, scanning the water not just for fire, but for familiarity, he figured. For her own ship. For her crew's flags. For the little shape that meant the Yaoru had done what it always did: survive despite it all.
Relief came, however, when she saw a grey cruiser still afloat, winding between the scattered or sinking warships. Zuko's cruiser. She loosened with a flash so sharp and weird it caught in her chest, and she instantly hated herself for it. Face briefly red hot, she forced her jaw shut. "Of course he made it," she muttered, like the sentence was a jab she could send his way on the wind.
Appa suddenly lurched down again.
"GAH!" Sokka blurted as he snagged a bouncing sack of their supplies from tumbling off, then fell flat, huddling it.
Katara meekly tried, "Appa, big guy? You... okay?"
As if she'd dared him, they dropped suddenly again. Not controlled. It was sudden sags, like his paws kept finding holes in the sky. Everyone breathed tensely, snatching a few loose things, then scrambling for straps or sturdy handholds. Appa made a confused, breathy grumble that Aang had only ever heard when Appa was really, truly rattled.
"He's not," Aang grimly reported. "He's really spooked," and he leaned over the side a bit. "So close it singed his fur even..." he trailed off, but gripped the reins and confidently said, "come on, Appa, just ease on down, we'll land."
Sokka stared at him. "Land WHERE."
Aang's voice wobbled, furious and protective all at once. "The water if we have to! He needs a moment!"
Appa bellowed again, bucking a bit with his tail harshly swinging up and back down, and his whole body quivered, rattling everyone atop.
"I kno-o-ow," Aang soothed, rubbing Appa's neck with frantic tenderness. "Right here with you." It seemed to help, maybe.
Sokka squinted across the ocean again, elbows out as he bravely risked a slightly better field of view, leaning over the edge, and searching as Katara scowled and just grabbed his ankle while she held on, just in case. "Thanks Katara—still don't see your ship, Raven," he rattled off.
Raven's breath caught. Her eyes kept sweeping the water. Nothing. No Yaoru. No telltale mast for an unused sail. No crew waving like idiots.
Seeing her atypically pouty face, Sokka's voice tried to stay casual and failed. "Maybe they got lost? Maybe they're… in the water?"
Katara cut him off instantly, squeezing his ankle. "Sokka. Hush."
He flinched. "I wasn't—like in lifeboats!"
Raven didn't react to either of them at first. She was staring at the wrecked harbor, the streaks of white-gold fire still tearing the sky in the distance, and Zuko's cruiser turning away as if the island meant to swallow anything or anyone stupid enough to stick around.
"I…" Raven started, then swallowed. "Think maybe Zuko did it."
Aang blinked at her. "Zuko did… what?"
"Arzayanagi. No idea how he got it, but," Raven took a breath as she gestured vaguely at the burning disaster below. "This mess. Zhao's smoldering fleet. Like, he's the only one speeding off, like a coward. Again."
Katara's brow furrowed. "You're sure he even could? Like... all THAT?" She briefly swept a hand across the fire streaked sky, then frantically grabbed the saddle again.
"Well," Sokka started. Just in time for another minor lurch. Sokka grumbled, "Appa, please..."
"He's doing his best!" Aang ranted back.
Raven's expression hardened into something grimly practical at Katara. "I... it doesn't add up, but makes more sense than General Iroh doing it. Pretty sure the uh, um, pretty sure Arzaya would just kill Admiral Zhao for trying, but maybe... that's what happens when she does?" Her voice went high, uncertain. "However it happened, this feels... just like what my father has been waiting for. A huge public humiliation. Lot of other noble houses don't like the Fire Lord... they just need a push, he always said." She glanced back at the island, eyes narrowing. "He'll make a move for sure."
Sokka's tone implied he wasn't torn up over a Fire Nation civil war as he said, "oh no, not that, that would be the wor—" Appa lurched. "Dang it, Appa! You're doing this on—" Appa trembled, grumbling. A sudden sink of just a foot. "Purpose..." Sokka grumbled. "Why is it just me?!"
"Stop yapping, then!" Aang scowled back at him. "Hold on! He's heading for something... apparently!" he yelled, then immediately leaned low, murmuring to Appa like it was a secret between them. "Don't land on a Fire Navy ship, buddy, aaanywhere but that."
Sokka's eyes went wide. "Heading WHERE?"
"It was nice meeting you all," Raven said with a hopeless grimace, Appa now rumbling and bouncing them around as a rule.
Aang swallowed and glanced at the water. "The ocean, I guess?!"
Sokka looked very disappointed. "Preeetty sure the Fire Navy will notice us having a little tea break over here. Damaged or not."
"You have tea?" Raven interjected, smirking to play it cool. "EEP!" she yelped. She'd bounced a bit higher than the saddle ridge. Her embarrassing pitch was punishment enough, though.
Katara's eyes darted to the island again. The thickest dark plume of many ahead came from the volcano. It seemed... vigorous. Hard to look at, like even so far away a glint so bright from the ridge hurt her eyes. "Guys, I think the volcano is more active than before, am I crazy?" They all turned their gazes. "Please tell me I'm crazy?"
"Okay, you're crazy," Sokka flatly stated.
"But, also, that's a lot of smoke," Raven sighed.
"Oh, sure," Sokka nodded. "Hey, can we get anything else to go wrong real quick? We're on a roll with—AGH!" Sokka's fingers quivered he clenched the saddle so hard, pulling himself fully back on. "What did I ever do to you, Appa!?" he demanded, instantly hurt.
"It's not a choice!" Aang snapped, voice cracking with fear for Appa more than anything else. "Ah, REALLY hold on!"
Appa bobbed up for half a second as Aang airbent reflexively, trying to buoy him with sheer stubbornness. But Appa let out a long, exhausted bellow and tipped, the world tilting with him. Katara, Sokka and Raven all thrown and sliding to the back of the saddle, a pile of frantic teen limbs as they all grabbed each other and anything in reach.
"No broken bones, just no broken bones, please!" Sokka called out as the wind rushed, the sky spun. He was ready to bargain with even Arzaya.
"Appa! Appa! Appa! Appa!" Katara plead, eyes squeezed shut.
Raven moaned over it all, "No! I haven't killed Zuko yet!"
Aang shouted over the wind, "AIMING! FOR! DECK!"
Sokka's head snapped up. "A deck?! What?! We'll get attacked!"
"Tell Appa that!" Aang yelled back, offended on principle while falling out of the sky.
They dropped fast enough that the sea and sky became light and glitter, and just before the impact, Aang swept his hands low on either side of Appa's neck, spiraling them to stuff an air cushion just under his belly. Appa pressed on it, slow, and then it burst, and he dropped the last bit with a wildly jostling WHUMP! A loud crack of deck planks came with as garnish.
"Ohhh..." Aang drawled out, hunched over and staring right at Lo Pei with his hands up in surrender. "You were right UNDER us."
"Little help?" Katara tittered. She was hanging by her caught ankle, upside down off the saddle, braid gracing the splintered deck with a soft brush.
Sokka was instantly over the side, slapping his palm to Katara's held up hand to yank her out of the awkward position. "Hey! No dying! We TALKED about this."
"I didn't! You all saw," she argued back, but smiled at him. And Katara took a deep breath before having such despair in her eyes. "But I could re-e-eally use a break."
Appa huffed, legs splayed, breathing hard, and he somehow sank even flatter, taking up an almost but not quite unworkable amount of space right in the middle of the deck. It was well there was a gap left to squeeze past him, as nothing would compel him to budge any time soon.
Aang pulled himself up, finally loosing the reins, but he was instantly scrambling for things on the saddle, while Raven elegantly did something of a cartwheel down an agreeable incline of Appa's deflated bulk, the flip of her hair as it ended enough to distract from her foot slipping a bit at the end, on a slick of something oily from a barrel Appa's belly showed no mercy to.
Lo Pei, tall, thin and dressed as inchoate as ever—Fire Nation bandana inside out, threadbare scholarly Earth Kingdom robe under a mix of Water Tribe furs, all not held together with gentle slippers that were powerfully inadequate for sailor's work. His wiry wind-tossed hair magnified the intensity of his startled, forced smile.
"Lady Arza," Lo Pei called, voice strained into cheer. "Welcome back."
Behind him, crew members all uncurled or unfroze, and went right back to the busy sailor's swaggers and saunters they were paid good money for.
Sokka stared around, stunned. "We were seriously right above you and didn't notice?"
Lo Pei nodded quickly, but clenched his teeth at the hellish sight of Crescent Island getting rapidly dark, smoky and rancorous. "We've been following you. We're ah, leaving, yes?"
Raven's head turned slowly toward him, and she just nodded. With a more insistent expression from Lo Pei, she sighed with frustration. "I dunno, straight away from the island, then north, right?"
Katara, Sokka and Aang all mildly or noncommittally nodded, still shaken by the landing. Momo hopped to Sokka's shoulder, then to Aang's, seeming hurried like he had a strong point to make, but his purring chitter was downright blasé.
"Yeah. That way till the island's out of sight, then north," Raven vaguely pointed.
Lo Pei's soul, briefly off-set and ready to escape his body, smoothly edge back into place, and he looked to be at peace. "Helmsman!" He called out, hurrying off.
"Guys, we have to cover him up," Aang insisted as he finally fully pulled out and flailed a tarp about, and Katara and Sokka instantly hopped to help.
Raven briefly considered it, but something caught her eye. Bao, broad-shouldered and maybe TOO calm. He sat back letting his greying hair blow in the breeze, comfortable leaning against the outer wall of the cabins, upon a bench, with a little table just beside that had an... awfully familiar earthenware bottle upon it.
Raven's eyes narrowed to slits. "Bao."
Bao looked up, looking oddly pleased. "Lady Arza."
Raven opened her mouth, ready to unleash a storm. "BAO?" she insisted, palm open in firm gesture to the wine bottle. He looked stunned and horrified, like she thought he ought to if he was caught, but she did a double take as she reached over and poked little pale tendrils growing out of the mouth of the bottle. She just scowled at him, not understanding, hating it.
Lo Pei hurried back, words tumbling over each other. "It is not... ah... wine!"
Raven's gaze slid to him, deadly quiet.
Lo Pei lifted his hands, pleading with his face. "Milkroot seeds. Gathered at Kyoshi. We are… cultivating. The bottle is convenient."
Raven stared at the vines, then at Bao, then at Lo Pei, and her expression shifted from murderous to something colder and more dignified.
"Oh," she said, tone dangerously calm. "Odd choice."
Bao and Lo Pei both smiled at her in a way she didn't quite trust, but she started turning away.
Aang huffed, and called out, "milkroot?" with some excitement, even amidst tugging the tarp and Sokka swatting at him for doing it wrong. And as innocently as a kid talking about his favorite candy, he bubbled, "yeah! You get, like, re-e-eally loopy if you chew it. And it's gritty, but it's great for your teeth!" And he gave a beaming smile like a regular root muncher.
Raven just smiled at him, so serene.
Aang beamed innocently. "What?"
She swiveled around. There was no longer serenity. Her face, in fact, had been taken by the paper white mask of evil her father once wore. Bao was curiously still catching up, but Lo Pei was frozen as they watched her hand lift, wondering if this was finally it for him. But she just pointedly stuck out one finger, at the bottle, and smoothy swerved it to indicate the deep vastness of the blue seas. Consequences were promised with every blink she never made.
Bao finally reached clarity. A little shocked. A slow quiet nod. With one smooth motion, he tossed the milkroot bottle up and back over his head, off the rail, into the sea. It made a weak plop that was little consolation.
"Uhh... eh-hehe..." Lo Pei winced, urgently swatted at Bao and pulled himself forthwith to a polite, obedient stance.
Bao stiffly stood up. Elbows out wide like he didn't know where his hands belonged. With one overly long stride he was around the side of the cabins. They all heard the clatter of earthenware, some scuffing, a bit of muttering, and saw one, two, then a total of five more bottles sailing from out of view, right off the frigate.
Plop.
Plop.
Plop-plop-plop.
Bao awkwardly strode back into place beside Lo Pei, like he was waiting for the firing squad still. The only words spoken were the uncertain, maybe amused mutterings of the teenagers getting Appa nice and tucked in. But Raven stayed quiet, accusatory finger shifting between the two guilty men. They felt very much like she was adding them to a list.
The instant Bao's lips smacked, he started to grin, and maybe say something, Raven's somehow even sharper glare alone stopped him like a wall, and he fully sank back to just standing there as Lo Pei frantically elbowed him.
Raven backed away, still pointing, still silent, and slipped toward the door that led below deck to her cabin. She disappeared into shadow.
Bao and Lo Pei almost breathed.
Raven popped her head back out like a suspicious hawk, they stiffened, relieved they hadn't moved yet. Slowly, she receded again. They stayed there as Sokka, Katara and Aang a bit awkwardly wandered over, Appa snug and secure. Katara gave a little wave and smile.
Aang scratched the back of his dome. "Uhhh... so you're Raven's crew, huh?" he tried.
But Sokka actually broke the tension. "Aang… you just totally narc'd on Raven's dudes. Not cool."
"Sokka-haha!" Katara tried to retort, but it was so absurd she just started laughing.
Aang blinked. "I what?"
Bao just gave an "eh..." and Lo Pei shrugged, apparently not holding it against the boy even though they were experiencing such a fresh and painful loss, bobbing around behind them and slowly sinking under the cruel waves of abolition.
"Nice to meet you, Avatar, I am Captain Lo Pei, but ah, excuse me..." Lo Pei quickly said, and scampered off to other sailors on deck, possibly to choose between hiding something or throwing it overboard before Raven came back.
Sokka nodded. "Yeah. Like… you know. You just…" He waved vaguely, unable to explain further without Katara smacking him. "Ow!"
"Stop explaining!" she near shrieked at him, still trying not to laugh.
Aang frowned with deep, offended certainty. "Look guys, I'm twelve. I don't even know what 'narc' means." Then, as if this solved everything, he brightly turned to shine upon the two crestfallen sailors hiding their pain, and he happily said, "but I DO know a secret place near the Western Air Temple where milkroot grows in hu-u-uge patches. Like, the walls are furrier than Appa. Not that it's soft—like ow, don't fall in—but I bet it's still there!"
Katara slowly turned her head toward him first. Sokka followed up for dramatic effect.
Bao lit up like a lantern, like it instantly snapped him out of the daze he'd been under all along. Without delay, he stepped up, hand out to shake at Aang. "Well! Hey there! The Avatar, huh? I'm Bao. Quartermaster. Maybe still, up to her." He boisterously declared, and quietly grumbled, but then conspiratorially whispered. "So, this secret place. You could... point it out on a map, yes?"
Aang gave a wave like it's easy. "Oh, sure, no problem!"
Lo Pei hurried back. He made an odd cough, stepping in to also loom over Aang. Polite but firm, gently holding a finger up to Bao's nose he insisted. "Bao. Stop being a crook."
Bao clutched his chest. "A crook? Me?"
Lo Pei continued, still addressing Bao, but glancing to Aang. "If it's good root, you must offer the Avatar a fair finder's fee!"
"Oh!" Bao nodded vigorously. "Right, of course, that can be discussed."
Sokka muttered to Katara, "wow, this... sounds bad, right?"
Katara didn't answer. She stared at Aang like she was trying to decide how this conversation was even real.
Aang kept going, animated now, hands waving as if he was describing a fun picnic. "Oh sure, it's definitely good root. You can get all wobbly and happy just breathing the air in there. A uh... friend of mine, we used to go there, and compare the weird stuff we saw in the mists from the tides, haha! So much fun!"
Katara stepped in with the calm voice she used when Aang was about to walk into danger smiling. "Aang."
Aang blinked. "Yeah?"
Katara's smile was sweet. It was also a trap. "We need to talk."
Sokka snorted a laugh.
Bao laughed too, full-bodied and delighted, almost making up for Aang getting him in hot water over the bust on the milkroot operation.
And just then, somewhere miles away on Earth Kingdom soil, a searing hot flaming arc finally concluded with a deafening BOOM, followed by a torn, heart-wrenching wail: "MY CABBA-A-AGE-E-ES!"
* * *
The glory was inescapable, like having your head covered in hot oil. Music swelled. Not instruments so much as just inspiring and imposing sound, a whole spiritual orchestra standing somewhere behind the eyes, calling every bit of attention to the moment. Torches flared in perfect rows like a performance, braziers roared to life, the gilded, encrusted walls of the throne room scintillating painfully bright at the height of the flames.
And there, at the far end, atop a dais and on a throne that made the notion of a merely being a 'king' seem quaint, sat Arzaya. Not standing. Not rising. No effort in that moment to exude authority as much as she oozed gold to pool at her feet. In fact she almost lounged on her throne, as if she were impatiently waiting for someone to finish tying their shoe. Flawless golden mask tilted. Silk hood pulled tight. One hand propping her cheek. A posture that said she had no answers.
The orchestra went BWAAAAA anyway, and briefly, she clenched with irritation.
For in front of the dais, Arzayanagi was… present, at least? On the floor. Carelessly dropped like a rake in the yard. Aang stood there, wide-eyed and small, having simply tossed it aside, then looking serene like his work was done. It was no triumphant passing of responsibility at all.
The torches snuffed part way, the booming, stirring sound reducing to echoes and a low drone. And then among the tight cluster of people crowded awkwardly before the throne, Raven reached down with the resigned annoyance of a girl punished for her sibling's mess. She grabbed Arzayanagi, stood, and for one beautifully awkward moment stayed still with it.
Torches and braziers flared, spitting smoke and embers as they hadn't yet died down from the last burst, and the musical triumph BOOMED again with an ever so slightly discordant second BWAAAA.
Arzaya's head shifted, slightly. Her elbow on the arm of the throne slid. She didn't fix it.
Raven's expression immediately soured. She looked at the spear like it had just insulted her mother, and it kind of did, actually. Before the triumphant display around her even reached it's peak, however... she tossed it over her shoulder to bounce down the glossy, black encrusted obsidian steps of the dais to rattle on the long walkway floor.
Arzaya tapped one golden clad fingertip with a click-click-click that could just be heard after the crescendo.
Some old man, dressed in priestly robes, shuffled away from the pack of illustrious recipients. It didn't really look like he belonged there at all, even with how wrong it all was. With sagging, slack-jawed look, eyes half-open as if he'd been tranquilized, he stiffly stumbled his way down the steps, bent down, and picked Arzayanagi up. He stared at it, unblinking, like he had no idea what it was.
The torches and braziers, having nearly gone out, flared in a spectacular divine brilliance once again! The orchestra's rousing BOOM reached for ecstasy with absolute confidence.
The old man didn't even react. Click-click-click. He slowly shuffled back up the steps, taking so long in his decrepit age, apparently, that the room was almost fully dim again, until he thrust it unceremoniously out towards...
Shyu. Who had a blissful, disarming smile on his face as he accepted it with both hands. Again, the triumph was marked by the torches blazing, the music swelling with that starting BWA-
From amidst the bunched group, a hand shot out. Zuko roughly seized Arzayanagi from Shyu before he could even hold it aloft, and the sage simply shrank away and stayed still. And a breath after he tightly clenched the weapon, a true supernova of divine radiance swept down the hall! Torches spiraled intense flames to light the very heights of the dizzying ceiling! The furthest pillars SHOOK, so moving was the roar of the—only slightly off-kilter and flat—magnificent hit of the orchestra, fit only for a true paragon among men!
Zuko looked like he'd just been handed someone else's slightly moist sock. Click-click... clack.
He dropped it.
It clanged and clattered not even a pace away, and the prince stared down at it like he'd let a sizzle crisp slip out of his fingers. Not great, but, like, he could just go get another. The orchestra warbled rather quite strangely as it dulled again, like maybe it was finally over and it was quite hoarse at this point.
Then, humiliatingly, it burst out again, fully avoiding the scarcest touch of any note it meant to reach.
Iroh was on his knees, all thumbs batting around for the slowly rolling spear, scuffing along in his robes on his knees. But once he HAD it...
The torches just began to swell. The music ready to sally forth once again!
But Iroh instantly foisted it back to Zuko, who nodded mildly in the least bit of politeness, finally holding it up, his arm moving slowly like he was waiting for instructions that would never come, and the torches BLOOMED with a truly life-changing splendor! The orchestra rallied like no other, filling the throne room with a truly profound, and moving moment of awe.
Zuko looked like he was hoping it would be over soon so he could go to the bathroom. Aang, Raven, some guy, Shyu and General Iroh all stood stiffly around him in no particular formation, expressions slightly pleased but a bit lost. Arzaya's head shook ever so slightly, but her disapproval was still quite evident.
And then, it smelled strongly of fresh polish on lacquered wood, and Lord Arza could feel the steady heartbeat of the sea beneath the flagship's hull. In his flagship cabin, extravagant as his station demanded, and from glossy smooth sheets, he sat bolt upright in bed with a cough, a long draft through the nose, scratching his less than regally arranged hair, and his jaw moved slowly to let out only, "...what?"
And after squeezing his eyes shut, his left hand moved to his right shoulder automatically to rub the very old but still a bit vexing results of an Agni Kai gone less than stellar. He stared at nothing, trying to recall what order Arzayanagi had even been passed around, or who exactly had it. "So much for never wanting to touch it again, General..." he grumbled as he squeezed the faded purple of his upper chest and neck. Turning his head aside, he saw the standing mirror in the dim light and many reflections of his rather more golden than strictly necessary cabin, and for a moment couldn't make sense of his reflection. Still of the vision, perhaps just because he was accustomed to her company, he sighed, "my lady, you said it might get chaotic, but... who even were half those clowns..." although his words no longer reached her.
Finally realizing why his reflection was a puzzle, he muttered, "ridiculous." Both of the vision, and of the flower-shaped smear of ink all over the mirror. He hopped out of bed with urgency that denied the existence of his previous slow, sleepy start entirely. He disregarded robes fallen loose enough to be more of a sash with an unused belt, and he leaned in to the simple but artful and absolutely unacceptably placed flower graffiti.
His finger found it dry.
His nail found no purchase on scraping it.
His razor would harm the expensive glass.
His fire, meekly tested, simply smeared it around.
He licked his teeth in a slow motion, jaw clicking open. "How did she even get in heeeere..." he trailed off, already gravelly voice croaking with how fed up he was. He cut his allowance for frustration short, however, and readied and dressed himself in practiced and professional motions that made it very clear he had a system and very clear he timed himself with brutal expectations. Belt. Boots. Armor pieces that mattered. Hair tied back. Beard left a bit unkempt so people would think he's grumpy and hesitate to bother him. A tactical choice.
A frantic knock rattled his cabin door.
"Lord Arza!" a woman's voice called, tight with urgency. "Lord Arza, forgive me, but we have received a royal message!"
He had actually overslept a few minutes, Arzaya's deranged vision and all, so he was prepared to not make Captain Shoko regret the sudden intrusion, but still looked the part of making her lips tighten instantly at his gaze when he yanked the door open. It was surely the scruffy beard, he smirked to himself.
She stood with perfect posture, even when taken aback, like she'd practiced being surprised until it bored her. Uniform so crisp you'd swear it'd never seen battle. Face painted in "professional". She didn't quite flinch at him, not really. She knew very well what reactions would make him favor her, and she chose them as carefully as her deliberately obedient tone.
But Jinai Arza didn't really care why she did things the way he liked, and he didn't bother with a hello before he seized her arm, actually genuinely startling her for the briefest breath, and he pointed sharply back into the cabin, dragging her in a few steps as the door guards mildly panicked.
Shoko peered past him, confused for half a heartbeat, then saw the defaced mirror and visibly went still with a meek and acknowledging, "mmm."
"My cabin," Arza said, each word a knife laid gently on a table, "is supposed to be secure."
"Yes, my lord," Shoko said immediately, too quickly, too braced to comply. She swallowed, then lifted a sealed message with both hands like it might bite. "I apologize. It won't happen again. But… this is urgent. From Princess Azula."
Arza had insults behind his teeth that most would find too extreme to be leveled at a teenage girl.
He made a short gesture. "Read. I'm behind schedule." And he saw one of his elite guards stumbling into the hallway ahead like he was still getting his boots on.
He was an Arzayan firebender of his cousin's house, and he beckoned, "Lord Arza, what did that vision mean—"
"Later," he cut him off, a point of his finger making it final. "Shoko," he stated.
She extrapolated. Tilting her head, and pausing a brief instant to pick the right formal tone that didn't show too much respect to her highness, Captain Shoko explained, "Her Highness reports that Admiral Zhao's fleet is occupied by a volcanic disaster and related salvage operations. Due to the Fire Lord's trust in your... unique competence, you are hereby bestowed the glory of leading the invasion of the Northern Water Tribe and delivering a decisive victory."
Arza was at the bridge just as she finished, and he breathed out a barely audible, "unique competence... thinks she's funny, huh."
"Someone has to." Shoko continued, getting an actual smirk from the man. But the punchline hadn't landed yet. She took a breath to compose, and finished, "to ensure your success is properly witnessed and honored, Her Highness is also en route to join the operation with her own warship."
Arza's laugh was a single, humorless breath.
Shoko's shoulders drew in a fraction, apologetic on behalf of a princess who would never apologize for anything. Everyone on the bridge stared at them like he'd finally gone mad. They all knew it was coming. Arza's eyes were indeed oddly distant for a moment, not with fear, but with calculation. The dream still clung to the back of his skull like smoke. The ridiculous torchlight. The spear. The sense of a hand moving pieces around a board, he just couldn't quite grasp the end game.
"You're not... really agreeing to that, are you, Jinai?" an old not-quite-retired commander of the Arzayan marines grumbled impatiently from where he'd gotten far too familiar with the bridge that Captain Shoko was theoretically in charge of.
Captain Shoko flicked a glance his way, "I can't imagine, Commander Yo." She flatly said, instantly lacking the respect she freely gave Lord Arza.
Lord Arza's mouth crooked into something that almost looked like amusement.
"Actually. Our Lady," he murmured, and the way he said it made the bridge quieter than silent. He spun on a heel to wag a finger at the firebender who had followed him. "Must be behind this. This is connected to the vision."
"To... attack the Norther Water Tribe, sir?" the firebender wondered.
And as Arza hoped he would, Commander Yo interjected, "that vision was nonsense! I don't trust it was even really from her, if you ask me."
"We didn't, Commander," Captain Shoko flatly said, but the hostility just made the old man smile. She took in a sharp breath, trying to figure out why Lord Arza would even consider taking the fleet that far from home, and actually pounded her first in her palm she realized so hard. "Is Our Lady after a target in the Spirit World, my lord? Surely she doesn't want the Northern Water Tribe?"
"Certainly not." Arza's expression sharpened like a blade being drawn. "She doesn't want waterbender blood."
Everyone nodded or gave a slight smile at least like that was obvious, with Commander Yo offering a still somehow grouchy, "hah!" followed by, "she'd recoil from the sight of it, after all that bawdy mess."
Captain Shoko sighed with annoyance. "Don't be crude on my bridge, Commander."
The old man rolled his eyes in a way where actually sarcastically saying "your bridge, hah!" wasn't necessary. But he did stand a bit straighter when Lord Arza finally stepped up to his position.
"Gather petitioners, both of you," Arza ordered without raising his voice, glancing to Commander Yo and the slightly lost and out of place firebender who wasn't sure if he was dismissed or not. "Firebenders with true conviction, I don't care if their positions are critical, we'll figure out how to replace them. And more than enough dragon's blood."
"And if you're wrong?" Commander Yo couldn't help but argue as he shook off the old age like snow and strode with purpose for the door. "If those boys come back alive, don't ask me to figure out the hierarchy again."
"I'll handle it," Shoko sharply said, already moving in her mind to lists and logistics. "But... Lord Arza," she said carefully, "without Arzayanagi, do we have the forces to guard the Isles and even briefly keep the North?"
Arza looked at her as if she were a fool. She was used to it.
"Keep?" Arza chuckled, and his smile widened into something almost gentle. "There is no keep."
Arza's gaze drifted toward the far horizon, where the world was cold and waiting. "We are not sailing to take the North," he said, voice soft with certainty that didn't need to prove itself. "We are merely spreading the glory of God."
Shoko nodded. "Her Highness is coming to keep you in the North as long as possible, isn't she," she practically said as she realized it. "The Fire Lord is going to make a move."
Arza's smile didn't flicker. "The Glittering Isles are guarded," he said, and there was something proud and possessive in it that did not sound like a father talking about a child. It sounded like a general talking about a fortress. "I trust Raven will hold the line, if it comes to that. Many would gladly die under her command."
Raven woke up face-down, just absolutely nowhere fucking near the Glittering Isles.
* * *
Raven's Yaoru-class frigate stank like fish and tar, and the lingering grace of vomit that just barely won out against the sorts of odors that wafted from a very upset and frightened sky bison. Lo Pei and crew at least pretended not to notice, Raven had gotten largely used to both, Aang kept blasting it away from himself as a side effect of showing off for the sailors, Sokka honestly benefited emotionally from having something blatant to complain about, and Katara shamelessly used her girl card to unlock Raven's cabin and hide amongst the tirelessly sharp and strong aromas of the noble lady's many spicy snacks.
"It usually just smells a bit like sweat, on my ship I mean," Raven calmly said with only the provocation of Katara's nose hanging over her strongest batch of clear-and-crispy, gossamer thin, fried-and-dried spicy saltbloom strips. But suddenly she barked, "how do you put this on?!" as she awkwardly folded some kind of silken belt this way and that.
It was from a very fine Earth Kingdom noblewoman's dress her father's soldiers definitely stole at some point, and Katara glanced it up and down, shrugged, and offered, "you could cinch it with a pin, you have like five-hundred of them." As she reached for a decorative glossy black and gold accessory, and tossed it to Raven's bed beside her, then took another deep and satisfying breath of the strong spices—enough to make the thin little shavings flutter.
Raven stared down at it, narrow and accusatory. "Not that one," she scoffed, tossing it back on the counter, where Katara finally actually looked at it and saw the decorative Arzayan spearhead, so she wasn't going to fight in its corner. Like it made her feel a bit bad, Raven switched back to, "anyway, we haven't properly stopped at a port in forever, might... also be why my crew is getting crazier than usual." But she suddenly perked up again to sharply accuse of no one, "won't people notice? The pin? This isn't how they wear it."
"Don't look at me," Katara tried to excuse herself immediately, but didn't even delay a breath to say anyway, "Just put the pin on the inside, it'll seem like you know what you're doing."
Raven didn't quite glare at Katara for that, which was appreciated, but didn't say thanks either as she turned the pearly pink cloth around, and chose the flattest, least intrusive ivory handled hairpin to brutally stab it with, hoping it wouldn't stab her back on the tummy once it was nestled deep in the full regalia. She breathed out with obvious annoyance even though it fit fine, probably looked fine too, and flatly suggested, "those Earth Kingdom girls are as sharp as teapots. Maybe you have to be stupid enough to get how to wear it their way."
"Yeah," Katara rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's it." And ignoring Raven's baleful aura, she sidled over to pop the tiny decorative latch on another small box, containing more saltbloom strips with a fully new bouquet of smells that would, for a time, take up all of her olfactory space. "Ohh... I wish I could smell this forever..." she airily stated to the universe.
After a moment of nonplussed scrunching the corner of her mouth, Raven hated even the slight poke of that fancy ivory pin, and yanked it out to put it on the outside again, rubbing her thumb on the detailed head of the winged little critter carved out of it. She abruptly shared, "you know, you're very pretty."
"Uh... thanks!" Katara awkwardly replied, genuinely appreciating it, just not really sure where it came from.
Raven kept that odd look about her, and waited just long enough for it to be stressful before putting her hands on her hips and stating, "you'd be very believable as an exotic handmaiden, if you want to help sell the act."
Katara bunched up and furrowed something fierce at that, before finally muttering, "you were doing so well in the first half."
"Hmm?" was all Raven had.
Not even bothering with the weird description, Katara spoke rather deliberately as she stated, "I like you, Raven, really. But I refuse to even pretend I serve a Fire Nation noble."
Raven gave her a look like Katara was an idiot as she held up her arms to display her flowing robes.
Katara caught her breath. "Ah—I mean, 'I' know you're from the Fire Nation..." she went on with less conviction.
Stepping away to lean towards a mirror and make sure she hadn't smeared her makeup again, Raven grumbled, "but I'm Arzayan?"
Katara did nothing, yet still it clearly communicated that it also meant nothing to her.
It even got Raven to turn back and speak to Katara face-to-face, as she insisted, "we're not the Fire Lord's biggest fans." And she scoffed as she threw up her hands again, "spirits! Even Arzaya herself didn't retaliate against Sokka mocking her, and she revived you—which she didn't do to be nice, that's for sure."
"Oh?" Katara quietly said, not really wanting to think too hard about what happened in the Fire Temple. "Why did she, do you think?"
There was a thunk, and a groan of the hull, followed by no less than several sputtering engine noises echoing in from the hall. Raven didn't even have to motion, Katara was neck-and-neck with her to escape the truly 'greater than the sum of its parts' stench that Appa and drunken vomitous sailors had managed to craft.
There was certainty in her tone despite her rambling as Raven blinked at the bright sun on deck, and said, "it might sound kinda nuts, but she still respects some ancient treaty from when she was young, with like... I don't know what else to call her but a 'Pirate Queen'—the old stories get very creative about making her sound... not like a pirate. Anyway, she was a waterbender. Her tomb's in the *Northern* Water Tribe, pretty sure, but my family always applied it to your people too, and left you alone."
"Arzaya knew KOANI?!" Katara shrieked, wide-eyed and drawing all attention on the ramp. "My Gran-Gran told me about her, is that who you mean?!"
Raven held up her hands like 'giiiiirl' and Katara noticed everybody staring, especially dire since half of them were random passersby from the Earth Kingdom coastal river town they just stopped at. "Y-yeah..."
"Sorry!" Katara peeped. "But I'd love to ask you about her! She just always sounded really cool, but Gran-Gran only knew like two things, that she was a queen of pirates, but she surprised everyone and died a hero slaying a rampaging dragon."
"Nagi," Raven nodded, like it was simple.
"Nagi."
"Mmm-hmm."
They stepped aside as Bong-Li gleefully rolled like a boulder past them to kiss the ground like a waiting fair maiden.
"Like Arzaya-'Nagi'..." Katara gritted her teeth.
And there was an obvious tension this time around with Raven's, "Mmm-hmm..."
Katara was remarkably less eager to ask follow-up questions. But she couldn't just leave it, saying, "that was... really, really ancient history, Raven. How... is Arzaya THAT old?"
Raven shrugged. "I have a whole book on that in my cabin. My family has history we, uh... don't really share with most Arzayans. Warning though, she does some seriously fucked shit." And seeing the mildly mortified stiffness of her new friend, she quietly went on, "that's why I didn't trust her!" which, at least, didn't seem hard for Katara to accept.
Sokka interjected, "hey, gossip girls, did you settle on a name for, uh—" They instantly whipped around to face him.
"Shh!" they both went, like they hadn't been yapping like fools all over the pier.
"You will address me as Lady Jade Rockingham-Clayborne, of the Omashu Rockingham-Claybornes, of course," she insisted, completely seriously.
Sokka nodded, impressed. "That does sound very noble, nice one. Can I be your butler 'Pebblesworth'?"
Raven slowly nodded. "I don't see why not, but prepare to act like you're very used to me berating you."
"THAT won't be a problem at all, my Lady Jade," he loudly and cartoonishly bowed as he gestured for her to go ahead of him.
Lady Jade Rockingham-Clayborne took precisely one delicate step, directly into a wall of gawking Earth Kingdom soldiers, surviving only precious seconds before one burst in joyous surprise: "Lady Jade Beifong!?"
Even Sokka noticed the soldiers all staring at her awkwardly prominently placed ivory pin, with an honestly rather sizable winged boar involved. Raven and Katara just stared in shock, though, trying to look any other way.
"We received the news you were lost at sea!" A local guard captain of some kind declared with relief. "Did these kind water tribe children rescue you?!"
Sokka instantly nodded along. "Absolutely. She was up a creek without a paddle, let me tell you, except the creek was the ocean and she ALSO didn't have a boat."
Raven almost decided to just firebend and kill Sokka right then and there. She settled for imagining it.
"Praise the Southern Water Tribe!"
None-the-wiser as he strolled off the gangplank too, Aang gave a little wave of his glider to the men standing there. "Hi! I'm the Avatar!"
Only one noticed, and out of the corner of his mouth, grumbled. "Yeah right, kid."
"We saved him too, actually, he really is the Avatar. We're pretty awesome, I know," Sokka completely confidently declared, arms crossed, head nodding vigorously. "Aang, quick, do Avatar stuff."
"Uhhh... yeah, why not?" Aang tilted his head aside in thought, then with a click his glider was out, and before the soldiers could utter another mote of doubt, he was looping into the sky with a "wooooooo!" The soldiers were still suffering a complete lack of jaw control when he skidded to a halt in front of them again, having traveled several hundred feet in a breath or two, and Aang quite honestly confirmed, "it's true, you need to get un-lost at sea? Ask for the Southern Water Tribe. They're very nice, and the girls? Wow. Well, there's just the one but she's my dream girl."
"Uhh... Aang?" Katara instantly blushed.
Aang stared over at Katara, totally unperturbed smile, and then with the biggest stupid grin he said, "don't tell Lady Buzzkill, but that Bao guy still had just a little milkroot left. The clouds are eating each other. And one of them's a lion turtle now! Just like old times." Even in his altered state of mind, Aang couldn't miss the demented look on Raven's dolled up face. She didn't even look mad, really, just unbelievably uncomfortable. "Oh..." he uttered. "Wait, YOU'RE Lady Buzzkill? Guess that makes sense. Man, that was really dumb of me to say in front of you, wasn't it."
"Lady Jade found the Avatar...?" A very lost Earth Kingdom soldier quietly muttered to himself.
"No, that was us! Pay attention!" Sokka frantically pointed at himself and Katara. "Water Tribe!"
"Aang, we really, REALLY need to talk..." Katara hunched over in defeat.
Impossibly, Raven didn't make any death threats as Bao trundled past, obviously high out of his mind. She barely even glanced at him, and his stupid absolutely certain look like he thought nobody could tell.
"Well, ah, we'll stay out of your way, unless you need something?" the leader of the soldiers respectfully offered. "Just be careful, we're having a hard time locking down crime here, with men going to the war effort, especially after that loss against the damned Arzayans. At least they didn't get you!"
Raven's smile was so intense and her eyes so wide that her completely calm, "that will be all, you are dismissed," only came across as even more batshit crazy. She could breath properly again once they were out of earshot, and gave a terse, "come, Katara. Avatar. You too, Pebblesworth."
Katara sighed like she didn't love the tone, but played along.
"Of course, my lady," Sokka cartoonishly bowed as he strutted along to step aside, all huddling near her frigate again.
Raven just had this incredibly weird look, and Katara dropped the annoyance the instant she saw something dire that certainly wasn't part of the act, and cautiously asked just, "my... lady?" like it hurt to force herself.
Aang was swaying a bit.
Sokka was practicing a more illustrious and gentlemanly bow.
Raven took a moment, throat tight, and she nervously patted her atypically continental hairstyle, then uttered, "just keeping to the act," like it was absolutely not what she wanted to actually bring up. "So... we're clear? I'm Lady Jade Beifong while we're here?"
Aang was swaying a bit.
Sokka licked his teeth for a moment, looking Raven up and down overly long, and at her look like 'the fuck you want, water boy?' he grimly accused, "pretty crazy coincidence. How'd you pick the name Jade?"
Raven looked like she really, really wished he hadn't asked that, and then Katara betrayed her utterly with a wary tilt of her head and said, "seemed like they recognized that as belonging to this Beifong lady? Whose name really is Jade? That IS pretty weird."
After a serious case of deflation, Raven hoisted herself back up, and turned a layer of her flowing noble green, white and pink robes out, showing embroidery indeed of the name "Jade" next to a detailed stitched image of a flying boar. "I thought it was some fancy atelier's signature, not the owner of all this..."
There was no delay before Sokka aggressively insisted, "Raven, why do you have the real lost-at-sea apparently Lady Jade's stuff? Won't they stop looking for her or something?"
"That... won't matter," Raven tensely said, like she was about to be yelled at.
Katara, genuinely little soul she was, sadly wondered, "oh no, you're sure she died? Poor girl..."
"Nope, not dead," Raven shook her head rapidly, nearly loosing part of her up-do. After daring to lean and peak out at all the townsfolk wandering around, she muttered, "I don't wanna talk about it..."
"Oh." Sokka reeled back in realization, tense well beyond his normal limits for an instant.
Aang was swaying a bit.
Katara couldn't figure out why that simple utterance was making Raven look like she'd just been sentenced to life in prison, looking between Sokka and Raven, with Raven giving a look to Sokka like she was willing to pass off the burden, and Sokka knowingly nodded, letting out a long sigh as he rubbed his chin.
"It's so weird... wearing this, eeugh, but I have to," and she held up her hand like she was in class asking a question, but just flatly stated, "help."
"That is... very awkward," Sokka breathed out through his teeth.
"What?!" Katara hissed.
Like it was obvious, but also like it was awful, Sokka tilted his head at Raven, beckoning gesture, and deduced, "her dad kidnapped her. The real Lady Jade. Probably for... ransom? I hope?" Raven's silence and stillness made confirmation unnecessary, but also made it apparent Raven was not confident about Lady Jade's well-being. Katara looked very much like she wanted Raven to deny that accusation, but Sokka went on, "like, she said all her piles of expensive stuff were looted by her dad, before she looted it from him, so like... I guess he, uh... took it right off her...?"
"Uh... oh..." Katara fumbled. "That's awful..." and she flickered her gaze to Raven, looking genuinely like a sad little puppy with her head stuck in a noblewoman's attire, losing all heat at the very notion, and simply repeated, "that IS... very awkward."