The sea was muted grey-green under a lid of cloud, and Raven's ship cut a thin, impatient line through it—Raven herself having blasted the coal fires as much as she could to reach what could be considered reckless speeds. Having given the engines her last spark, she stood at the bow with both hands on the rail, fine cloak and mismatched blanket as well wrapped tight around her shoulders because the night wind didn't care about noble styles. Salt stung the cuts on her knuckles. Her feet still throbbed inside their bandages with every shift of the deck. It felt like a challenge from her body to see how long she could go acting like she didn't need to lay down.
It was impossible to tell if it was morning or just an awfully dismal day, what with gloomy light, and near moonless waves. The creaking hull felt twice as loud in the odd quiet, and Lo Pei's crew was creeping around with the careful, guilty steps of men who had recently looked mass execution in the eyes and decided sobriety might have some merits after all.
Raven didn't look back at them. Her throat hurt too much to yell, and she'd have to, surely. So she stared ahead at the first glimmer of a dawn in the wrong direction, and the wrong time. At first she thought it was just the horizon playing tricks, or even a Fire Nation fleet engaged in fireball hurling battle. But it was just a phantom smear of orange light where the clouds were thinner. Then a pale suggestion of a second sun rising.
Then it pulsed, which suns are well tested not to do. It was subtle, like the ebb and glow of dying embers brought briefly to life with a breath. She could think of no natural weather that came close to what she was now leaned in towards, as if it would help get a closer look miles away.
"Arzayanagi," she said under her breath, then let that breath out with displeasure. "What in the world is that kid up to."
It was something she'd seen a few times before, although always when it was in her father's or grandfather's hands. Arzaya, distressing as she seemed in that vision that Raven wished she could recall better, granted her descendants a sense of the spear whenever it was used. It could feel like heat off a kiln, sound like a distant shrieking whistle, or appear as a glow on the horizon in its direction if one was particularly close—within only a few dozen miles at most. What had been an ornament she regarded very rarely was now feeling eminently critical, she just didn't know for what.
"Sure wish she was better at explaining her damned self," Raven grumbled, of Arzaya. "Crazy old witch. Why let Aang have you?"
She knew without a doubt that Aang had the spear, so she was heading straight for Zuko too. A pang of panic hit her that she wouldn't be ready to fight so soon. Raven's jaw set so hard it hurt. She had to push aside worrying if the Avatar was about to blow himself to smithereens with a deadly weapon he was certainly deeply unqualified to use. Father would scold her, 'Arzaya knows what she's doing', surely. But he'd be far more furious just knowing she was out hunting Zuko. By the spirits that backstabbing boy was tearing her heart to pieces. It took every ounce of her trained noble composure not to just curl up by the rail and have a cry.
"My lady?" Lo Pei ventured.
"Nnggah!" she warbled, sniffled, and buried her face in her blanket in an awkward flurry just in case the moistness on her eyes could be seen in the gloom. "Lo Pei, what!" She puffed up her chest, let out, and before he even had time to tense up she quickly said, "sorry, you're just so quiet." She glanced at the rest of the crew that was still mid tip-toeing around to avoid her ire. "Suppose that makes sense. Anyway, what is it?"
"Ahh..." Lo Pei had to catch up on the conversation she'd stranded him to run off with. His voice was rough, like he'd swallowed sand. "Almost at Mo Ce," he admitted like he really, really didn't want to go there.
Raven put her eyes back on the glow. It had faded, but come again soon, implying some truly desperate situation, as Arzayanagi tended to solve several problems with a single use.
"Not a fan?" she smirked.
Lo Pei bowed apologetically, not that she looked. "I'm sure it's... a very nice prison."
"Lucky you, then," she chuckled. Raven raised one hand and pointed, straight out into the dark. "There," she said, the word coming out like a vow. "Change course. That way."
Lo Pei squinted at the horizon. He kept looking like he'd almost figured out what she meant. It was amusing enough that she was feeling less inclined to shout at him.
"My lady," he said cautiously, "there's nothing there?"
"Oh, yes there is," Raven turned her head just enough that he could see her eyes in the lantern-light.
Lo Pei wasn't going to argue. "Right," he said quickly. "Yes. Of course. That way."
No arguments, just the way she liked it when she was still fuming a bit at everyone. He hurried away, and Raven heard him bark orders with the brisk panic of a man choosing between "obey" and "overboard."
She held the rail as the ship began to sharply turn into the light. Raven stayed at the bow, watching the distant glow like it was a hook in the sky and she had finally found the line. She rubbed her aching thigh. "Heal already, damn it," she murmured. "And hold on..." she trailed off, not sure if she meant Zuko, or Aang, or Arzaya. Whatever it was, she certainly didn't want to miss it.
A third time light pulsed, brighter already—having gotten a mere half mile closer, and the calm seas generously allowed her to meet it with haste.
* * *
Zuko saw it too, like a wound on the horizon—unfamiliar to his banished eyes. Although it was not light the first caught his notice, sailing north from Mo Ce, he had sensed a strange heat whenever he faced east, even standing in his quarters. A prickle in the scar on his face. A heat pulsing in his chest, it was thick with a sense of powerful firebending, whatever it was. Something on the level of that slippery Avatar, he astutely surmised as he ran a hand through his also unfamiliar regrowing black hair, and tossed whatever attire was in arm's reach over his bruised and bare chest.
He shoved open the cabin door and limped out onto the deck before anyone could ask him why.
The night air bit at his skin. He ignored it. He ignored the ache in his ribs—easier actually with that odd warm pulse. He ignored the way his crew's voices stopped as he passed, the way their attention followed him like trained dogs tracking a ball, but they wouldn't move till he said 'fetch'.
He went straight to the rail and stared out over the water. The sea was dark. The horizon was darker. Then there it was! Like an early dawn, not quite where it should be.
"Has to be him," he hissed as he risked crushing the railing in a fierce clench.
It wasn't quite subtle. He was surprised no one else had mentioned it. A smear of firelight stood out where there should have been nothing at all. Too far to be lanterns, too steady for lightning, and it was some truly legendary power to be felt and not just seen from miles away.
Zuko turned about, seeing men unsure if they should be at attention.
"Captain!" he barked. "Change course."
The man hesitated. "Yes, Prince Zuko?"
"That way. Towards that," Zuko nodded towards the light, eyes sharp back on him. "Now."
The captain swallowed and glanced at the horizon, confused. "Toward's what?"
Zuko pointed. "The light! Are you blind?! It has to be the Avatar!"
The captain looked again, several men on deck also gazed that way, scratching their heads. They looked distinctly like they all believed he'd finally lost his mind.
"Er... I don't see anything, sir," he admitted.
Heat flared up Zuko's throat.
"You don't see it?!" Zuko repeated, voice low. "That orange glow lighting up the damned horizon?!"
"N-no, sir, sorry," the man said quickly. "But, uh, if you insist it's there…"
The crewmen exchanged looks. Quiet. Wary. The kind of quiet that said he was crazy. Zuko felt his hands shake immediately. He had no time at all for this. "I am not imagining it," he barked at them all.
A voice came from behind him, calm and tiresomely gentle. "You're not imagining it, Prince Zuko."
Iroh stood bundled in a robe, hands tucked into his sleeves, face tilted toward the horizon with an expression that was said he wished he was in bed still, but he'd make an exception for this. He looked older in the night, the lantern-light settling into the lines around his eyes, making his grey hair gleam whiter.
"You see it?" Zuko demanded.
Iroh nodded once. "Yes. Very powerful. I recommend caution in approaching such an awesome force of firebending."
Zuko's breath caught. Then anger flooded in to replace the brief, uncomfortable relief.
"See?!" he hissed, jerking his chin at the crew. "Now who's crazy?"
The men inarguably looked like they still thought both Iroh and Zuko were insane. Iroh let out a hearty laugh at their bewilderment. His brows rose as he smiled to his nephew, though. "You're not crazy, Prince Zuko."
"That's not what I asked," he said through his teeth, nodding to the captain. "Why don't any of them see it?"
Iroh sighed, as if even the sea was tiring him. He turned his head toward the crew, his voice carrying without effort. He had to stand and stroke his beard for a good long moment before he pieced something together, with Zuko hovering an silent insistence he explain at least something.
"When your betrothed's grandfather brought Arzayanagi to the palace, your father and I both sensed it before he arrived. But it was not this intense, or felt from so very far away," he slowly and deliberately stated. And he looked genuinely worried as he finished, "again, please be very careful, nephew. That man seemed, ah, most unstable in your presence."
Zuko latched onto an inconsistency instantly. "Arzayanagi? Lord Arza's in Omashu, uncle, he told us himself. There's just villages that way. Nothing worth the oh-so sacred spear. I think it's the Avatar. You said yourself it's different."
"I hope you are right," Iroh sighed. But there wasn't a heartbeat until he loudly commanded, "captain! Your prince has given you an order!"
The men reacted, and Zuko instantly turned back to the horizon. The glow pulsed again, distant and deeply foreboding. The way Iroh puffed up his chest a bit told Zuko he was feeling that odd inner warmth too. Something out there was giving the vibes of a volcano, and he didn't have a shred of fear gunning straight for it.
* * *
Aang was down on his haunches, holding Arzayanagi with both hands just under the golden spearhead, like he'd been trained to use it as wrong as possible, and he tapped it 'carefully' against arranged stones and piled kindling—the tip of his tongue pinched in his teeth for extra focus.
"OH! There were sparks!" he giddily didn't even glance up to announce.
"Yeah, that'll happen when you hit rocks with metal, Aang," Sokka intoned, bored and half sunk into an ash covered mound in the burnt out forest landscape.
Something—the Fire Nation, obviously, really—had left the land deeply scarred, blackened trunks reaching up like buried fingers. The ground was loose with ash and jet black leaves that crumbled into powder at a glance. The damage was recent enough that patches of green had not yet returned, giving a deathly and desolate feeling to all who lingered there.
Aang figured it was perfect, nothing to burn down on accident! He'd made a little stone circle campfire, Sokka got him some unburnt twigs, and Katara was being absolutely dramatic about the whole affair, honestly.
Still crouched, tongue shifting to the other corner of his mouth, he shifted his grip on Arzayanagi to something perhaps better suited to shovel-work. The fiery wraiths within rolled in their graves at the disrespect, quite literally, as he absentmindedly twisted the spear in his hands. They were perhaps more patient with a 12-year-old Avatar than they otherwise would have been.
Katara stood we-e-e-ell behind him, peaking out from behind a scorched boulder, but with her arms still crossed so tightly in disapproval that she looked like she was trying to fuse her own ribs shut.
"Aang, please stop doing that," she said, for what had to be the tenth time. "This is soooo reckless. You saw what it did at Omashu!"
"That was a whole like special attack or something. I don't think you can do that on accident," Aang didn't even look to reply, focused on the tiny shower of sparks he'd gotten again as he tapped the tip against rocks.
"Are you sure?" she plead, more looking for confidence at that point, any sign the mad boy wasn't about to blow himself to pieces.
Aang finally did look up, hearing the emotion he now saw on her face, but his features scrunched as he quickly said, "yeah, I'm sure I'm not going to make an artillery barrage on accident, Katara. Can you please stop distracting me?"
Sokka hovered beside her, hands on his hips, more in the open like he wanted to be the braver of the two, but still close enough he could dive for cover if they were suddenly swarmed by the angry burning dead. Eyes to the spear and then at Aang and then at the spear again, it was like watching a monkey juggle knives.
"I'm not trying to distract you!" Katara continued, voice rising, "you're acting weird, isn't he acting weird, Sokka?" She practically demanded he agree or suffer the consequences by tone alone.
He gently poked the spearhead into the pile of sticks. Nothing spectacular happened, but he seemed happy about a tiny wisp of smoke. He poked it the same way again. A little more confidently. A fuller wisp of smoke rose where the tip touched, as if the wood itself had gotten sick of him mucking about and just let him have it so he'd do something else.
Aang squinted. "Okay," he murmured. "So it can start campfires. Probably. That's a non-evil use for it, see?"
Katara's eye twitched. "It destroys cities, Aang."
Aang finally glanced back at her, expression earnest and slightly offended, as if she were being dramatic about a simple hobby.
"I mean, I could probably destroy a city too, I'm the Avatar!" he said like she ought to know better. "You're not afraid of me."
"I mean, I kind of am now!" Katara retorted, voice tight. "Why would you even want to make a campfire with that... thing?! You can just firebend when you learn it later!"
Sokka held up one finger like he was about to contribute something he thought was wise. "I actually," he said slowly with disbelief, "agree with Katara?"
Katara's head snapped toward her brother. "Well you really can't always be wrong about everything, can you!"
Sokka frowned. "I'm on your side."
Katara opened her mouth, then closed it again, because she didn't have time to fight Sokka and Aang and the spear that she was suspecting might secretly be the end of all that is. Aang was still all about poking that kindling, which had sputtered out after that curl of smoke, like their conversation was just background noise to his important scientific work. He leaned in, very serious, and tried to angle the spearhead the way to glance sparks off the stones and throw them into the dry twigs. He was almost even holding it properly.
"I hope it's not broken. It seems alive, or something. Maybe it needs… like… orders?" he whispered, as if the spear might hear him better if he spoke softly. He cleared his throat, and poorly mimicked an official tone. "Uh, listen up, you spirits and stuff. I'm the Avatar, and I need to light this campfire. Testing purposes. That's, like, an order."
Katara took a step forward, out of hiding out of sheer desire to make him stop playing with fire, so to speak. "Aang, don't mock the fire spirits, you're going to hurt yourself—"
"I won't," Aang said immediately.
He poked the kindling again.
Sokka and Katara had a quick contest to see who could shriek in higher pitch. The sharply vertical flash of white flames from the spearhead near touched the low clouds, Aang standing frozen beside it, his face buffeted by brief but stinging heat.
Aang nodded, cautiously lowering the spear and sticking the head into the ashes. Katara and Sokka stood there blinking from the painful brightness, hands clenched and mouths gaping, and he gave them a slightly nervous smile. "Okay, not broken. Testing was useful!" And he was back already to being infuriatingly upbeat.
"Aang, are you okay?!" Katara gasped, but quickly transitioned to: "Please just sto-o-op."
Sokka got closer than Katara was willing to, leaned in, eyes discerning as he looked at the glittering golden spearhead. "Okay, I hate that I'm saying this, but… it is kind of cool."
Katara stared at him like he'd betrayed their entire family line. "Sokka!"
"What?" he protested. "It's a spear of doom! It's supposed to do stuff like that! He can probably roast the Fire Lord with it, ya know, if he can figure out how it works."
Aang waved dismissively at Sokka. "'Course I can figure it out, Avatar Kyoshi said she'd teach me, I just have to... uh, I guess find another spiritual place to talk to her? That cave had bad acoustics or something, I dunno, she didn't last long there."
Katara pointed at Aang. "He has to stop poking random things with it! Come on, please don't tell me you're both crazy now!"
"You can stop saying that," Aang said with a flat gaze. "I'm done, I got it to work. Sorry I wasted your valuable time. We can go-o-o-o." He moaned like she was the most unreasonable person in the world and he hadn't heard a damn thing she said all day.
"Dang it, Aang," Sokka said just as flat as he strode up confidently to assess the damage. No trace of the twigs remained. "That was our actual campfire kindling, like for camp later? Now I have to go collect more..." And he was already trudging off for a slightly less burned patch of ground.
Katara ignored him. "That thing is not a toy, Aang! I really think you should just put it down, wrap it up or something."
Aang held Arzayanagi close to his chest with both hands, instinctive and tight, like it might fall away if he loosened his grip. "I said I'm sorry," he insisted, but she clearly didn't agree. "I just... Kyoshi made sure I got it. She wouldn't do that if I wasn't supposed to have it, right?"
Katara's eyes widened. "Kyoshi really told you to get it? Wasn't that your idea?"
Aang nodded eagerly, as if this were good news. "Yeah! Both! Avatars think alike! In the weird green cave. She showed me how to steal it right out from under Lord Arza's stupid nose. And she told me it can even affect spirits. You can't bend without your body, but she says you still can if you have Arzayanagi! Isn't that awesome? I could like... fight the Fire Lord without even being there! He couldn't even hit me!"
Katara's mouth tightened. It was deeply annoying her that he was making something akin to a valid point. "Well, then just stop messing around with it until Kyoshi talks to you again... please? It sounds like she didn't have time to explain things."
The worried tone in her voice finally got a look about Aang like he might have been being a jerk. "Oh, I mean, you're probably right Katara. I'll stop poking things, I promise. Unless Kyoshi tells me to later."
Katara had a long face like it would just have to do.