Crescent Island wasn't looking any friendlier back outside. The trickling lava had begun to sludge out in surges, possibly a response to Arzaya's mere presence briefly affecting the land, everyone thought but didn't say. But it couldn't bring too much worry, as the sea below was glittering so happily in the sunlight—a pleasant reward for their deeds. But the southern breeze carried carried a tang of coal smoke, and it kept a hop the steps of Aang, Katara, Sokka and Raven.
But someone else lurked in the shadows. Silently waiting. Every exhalation a choice.
The group's boot steps scraped close to the dark, secret passage leading back to the temple. There were dozens of them, all over the island, but it would take a new observer years to root them all out. Aang's voice was obvious from just a sigh, unraveled a bit and young, but resolute.
"We have to go. Like, right now."
Sokka's voice overlapped it, harsher. "Nooo argument from me."
Katara, breathy and tense, sounded like she was arguing while running, a bit hurt. "Raven, we can't just stay here with you so you can fight him! There's so much at stake!"
"Then go!" Raven snapped back, and there was the edge of a smile in it that did not belong in a place like this. "My little Yaoru is on the way, I'll be fine.
"No you won't! You're still limping!" Katara shot back, then immediately corrected herself, but finally noticed Raven's unnatural convalescence, having been indisposed at the time. "Wait... you WERE limping. Actually, I had bruises and stuff..." she trailed off. "Gone. All gone." She uttered with disbelief as she patted her thigh, pulled up her sleeve, and found everything in working order. Katara even sounded downright accusatory as she insisted, "what happened while I was out?"
Sokka, puffing like a man who'd recently carried an angry noble girl up multiple flights of stairs, wedged himself into the conversation anyway. "Weird magic nonsense with Raven's drippy monster god," he rapidly interjected, but then opened a fresh batch of condescension: "Hey, ya know that fleet? The one with the fireballs? The one that almost roasted Appa?" And he gestured in an unbridled flail southwards.
There was a beat of silence where even Raven's stubbornness visibly hit a wall.
"Oh," Raven said, actually facepalming. "Right. Duh."
Katara's relief came out as a sharp breath that almost turned into a laugh, dismissively waving and stating, "I forgot too, what is wrong with us."
It was so nice that Raven just laughed back.
They burst off the walkway, sunlight slamming into them out of the mountain's shade like an extra push. Appa was already crouched behind jagged rock, grumbling at the obvious increase in lava. His tail raised up, but lowered calmly at the sight of Aang.
"Hey, buddy, sorry for the wait," Aang offered with genuine affection as he ushered Appa out of the shadows.
Aang flipping into the air, gracefully settling down, and darting his eyes south in a trembling. "Leaving, we're leaving, leaving-leaving-leeeeaving, guys."
Katara wasn't actually slowing down, scrambling onto the saddle, and lowering a hand that wasn't necessary as Raven gingerly hopped up in an enviably proficient fit of athletics. "Oh, right, you're fine now," Katara quickly said, a bit flustered. "But what are we doing with the... uh... Arzayanagi?"
Aang cringed in place at Appa's reins. "I don't think ANYONE should have it," he said with quiet certainty.
Raven made a soft, humorless sound. "Can everyone stop discussing what 'I' do with 'my' family's heirloom like you have anything to do with it?" She was holding it, wrapped up again in black cloth, but it felt so wrong to everyone to still just... have it.
Katara blinked. "What...?" She wished she hadn't uttered it with such offense.
"You can't seriously want to keep it, Raven," Aang moaned like he was just done with it all. "Your family's spooky closet goblin is a real drag."
"Yeah. I think I'm finally certain it belongs in a hole somewhere," Sokka said, hand on his chin and nodding sagely—at least that was what he was going for, but his free hand was still stuffing down bags on the saddle, at least. Then he snickered, "haha, Aang? Did you just call her a closet goblin? That is amazing. Everyone is so funny today."
Katara tried to keep things serious. "Please, Raven, just—" with a 'yip-yip!' Appa bucked. Katara insisted, "—just get rid of it?"
Raven held Arzayanagi for a moment as Appa climb over the sea, as if weighing the meaning as much as the metal. She knew the stories. She felt herself what it was capable of. The Arzayans would be guided by its fire to an eternal age of dominion over the world, should it be carried by a worthy leader. She could be that leader. She was absolutely certain. Raven's shoulders loosened, just slightly, and she gave a crooked smile that made Katara's stomach drop.
"This is pointless," Raven flippantly said. "I'm not keeping it."
Aang's eyes widened with delight. "Raven—!"
Katara just sighed with relief.
"Hmm, but what do to with—" Sokka began to deduce, far too late.
Raven didn't answer them. Instead she limply flung her arms aside, off the saddle. "Whoops, butter fingers!" she said like it was just a silly little accident. Everyone rushed to the side of the saddle. Arzayanagi tumbled hundreds of fleet, glinting in the sun. It DEFINITELY blazed with flames, very briefly, before making a sizzling splash in the calm blue waters, and it was gone, thousands of feet off the coast of the island. They all looked to Raven in a mixture of awe, delight and horror. She just shrugged, "had to be sudden, or she'd have started shit." And she leaned far over the edge, giving the rudest gesture she had in her repertoire as hard as she could. "Get fucked, biiiiiitch!" she shouted in a taunt.
But another caught that glint. That thin, cruel line of gold and flames catching sunlight.
A line of ships was pushing into view. Many, many warships. Columns of smoke in rows across the horizon. The sound carried like a rumble to rival the island's volcano as a whole moving city of iron and fire bore down.
From the hidden tunnel mouth, the watcher flinched at the sound and pressed tighter into shadow. Anxiously waiting for the speck of Appa to vanish, Sage Shyu finally stepped out. His hands shook so badly he had to curl them into fists inside his sleeves as he stiffly strode forward, tensing at the sound of shuffling feet behind him.
He stared at the ocean for a long moment, eyes fixed on the spot where the spear had fallen, as if he could command the water itself to give it back, but only had a tired sigh to offer. He turned, but not far enough to look, into the dark tunnel behind him.
"Retrieve it," he softly commanded, and again he skittishly ducked out of sight.
* * *
Zhao grinned like he won a bet as he played chicken with Prince Zuko on the way in to the tiny and soon to be very cramped harbor, gunning to take up too much space for him to properly land, just to make the boy squirm.
Zuko didn't back down. Glaring at Zhao. Daring him to actually collide. Sure, it would probably sink Zuko's cruiser, but the hole in Zhao's battleship would be no help in hunting the Avatar. The Prince grinned as he turned away, knowing he called the irritating man's bluff, getting things heated before they even had boots on solid ground.
Zhao's Elite Fire Nation soldiers poured onto black rock, boots finding grip cautiously until they found the polished walkway. Firebenders moved more confidently. Advancing in practiced wedges, heat shimmering at their fists even without flame under the auspicious temple and roiling volcano. The air filled with barked orders and the steady thrum of disciplined marching.
Prince Zuko jumped from the prow of his own landing craft, unwilling to wait for his old cruiser's slow ramp. He hit stone, turned straight for Admiral Zhao already striding smugly down the gangplank of his larger vessel, hands behind his back like he thought he was a real gentleman.
"Zhao! This is a whole army!" Zuko snapped, marching straight up as if rank didn't matter. "It's one kid. You're just trying to take all the credit!"
Zhao didn't stop walking. He didn't even look at Zuko at first. "Prince Zuko," he said, voice rich with amusement, "I would think you'd be grateful I'm devoting so many forces to... 'your' mission."
"I found him, he's mine!" Zuko growled, but then raged, "Father—the Fire Lord ordered ME to capture the Avatar. This ISN'T your DECISION—"
Zhao stopped then, finally turning. His smile was thin. His eyes were colder. But he put his palm to his chest, rocking back in a sudden burst of laughter. "Your father, hmm-hmm heh-heh, would demote me to scrubbing pipes if I, ha ha ha, just LET the Avatar just GET AWAY, ha ha ha, just to satisfy the ego of his, ha ha, BANISHED son!" Zhao was moist in the eyes from amusement as he snapped to order one of his officers with a quick gesture, and he took a breath to almost curiously say, "your bizarre expectations never cease to amaze me."
Zuko's scar looked darker in the bright sun. His fists clenched hard enough his knuckles went pale. Even in the wind, Iroh heard the creasing of his nephew's gloves, and caught up to place a hand on his shoulder.
"Nephew, the admiral is correct. You know how... unforgiving your father is," Iroh hurried to insist.
Zuko gave his uncle a sudden glare like he'd been betrayed, but it faltered. The riled up boy breathed out a sigh, ruffling his now very short black hair. "Damn it!" he seethed through his teeth.
Iroh did not hesitate to encourage, "but as Admiral Zhao said," he offered warmly, as if greeting an old friend instead of a hungry shark, "there is no need for hostility. Simply work together, and share the glory."
Zhao's face soured. "Maybe," he sneered. "If the boy stops nipping like a dog at my heels."
Zuko took a step forward, and two elite soldiers moved like they'd been waiting for it, angling subtly to cut him off. "If you want to face me in Agni Kai, quit needling me like a little girl, and just ASK for it. I'll burn that smug smile off your face, like you seem to want!"
Zhao's voice remained conversational. "I'd be delighted," he said, oozing with forced politeness. "First I'll have you detained for the duration of the search, though. Once I have the Avatar, I'd be happy to give you a little... symmetry."
Zuko's breath went sharp. His eyes flashed to the soldiers, then to how close they were to Zhao, then to the temple above them like he could already see the Avatar slipping away again.
"I'll fight you right HERE if you try it," he said, low.
Iroh was raising his hands to block whatever was about to happen, with Zhao beaming with delight as he fell into a combat stance, and Zuko furious out of his mind bit down on all sense and did the same, but a commotion near the edge of the landing line drew their attention: two elite firebenders flanking a rather haggard and put upon older man in fancy red robes.
His ceremonial headpiece sat crooked. His robes were stained with ash and something darker at the hem. His hands clutched a long bundle wrapped in black cloth so tightly his fingers trembled. Zuko's eyes narrowed on sight. Zhao gawked like his eel curry just sat up and spoke to him, but he snapped out of it.
"Who is this." Zhao demanded.
Shyu dropped to a knee so fast it looked like his bones might crack. "Admiral Zhao," he rasped, voice shaken and hoarse with sincerity, "thank the spirits you have come!"
Zhao's gaze sharpened. "And what of the Avatar? Speak!"
Shyu swallowed hard and lifted his eyes just enough to be seen properly afraid. "I am Sage Shyu," he said, as if they might doubt it. "I… I am the last Fire Sage of the temple."
Zhao's lips parted with mild surprise, which swiftly became irritation. "Last."
Shyu nodded, miserable. "The Avatar arrived," he said, and his voice broke in exactly the right place. "He... he and his companions… they killed the others. Executed them when they would not betray the Fire Lord."
Zuko's fists clenched so hard his hands shook. "But where is the Avatar, then?! Is he still here?!"
Shyu flinched at the sound of Zuko's voice, then forced himself to continue, darting a glance toward Iroh as if clinging to the presence of someone he instinctively respected. "The chamber," Shyu said quickly. "Ah, I mean, Roku's chamber. He is inside, with his allies. Trapped!" And he gave a delighted little giggle to sell it. "Hee hee!"
Zhao's brows lifted. "Trapped inside?" He gestured sharply toward the temple. "What are we waiting for?"
Shyu lifted the cloth-wrapped bundle a fraction like it was a confession. "Well, um," he said, breath hitching, "we sabotaged the door's lock. We broke the mechanism while it was sealed, so he could not reach Roku even if he forced us to open the door somehow..."
Iroh's eyes narrowed slightly. Not disbelieving. Just… attentive.
Zhao's voice went flat. "And yet."
Shyu swallowed. "And yet he opened it anyway," Shyu whispered in disbelief, like the words themselves offended him. He shrugged and held up Arzayanagi, golden spearhead slipping from the cloth. "With… with this? Somehow he knew the way."
The air seemed to tighten around it. Zhao's expression changed instantly, professional and hungry. "Arzayanagi. Confirms that... feeling. That heat, hehe. Almost had us," he gave a quick glance to Zuko, like he'd rather blame the spear than any person over nearly coming to blows.
Shyu shook his head quickly, eager to appear ignorant, eager to appear merely terrified. "I don't understand it," he said, breathless. "He used it like a key, touching it to a gem I thought was just decorative. But, pop! The door opened. The others tried to stop him and... and were killed, and I… I thought I would die too."
Zhao stared down at him. "But you didn't."
Shyu's eyes flickered. He gathered himself into shame. "I'm a coward..." he admitted, voice cracking like a confession. "I did fight, but I was knocked over. I... pretended to be dead among them. I waited. I could do nothing. The Avatar was merciless and too powerful. But he and all his allies entered the chamber! I saw my chance!"
Zuko's patience snapped. "What'd you do?" like he was actually a bit worried.
Shyu's hands tightened around the bundle. "To trap them!" he said quickly. "I covered the spear and took it away while the door was open, and it shut! They are still inside with the lock broken." And with delight he presented it to anyone and everyone. "And only this can open it!"
Zhao went still, savoring the image of victory. "You are telling me," he said with unhidden mirth. "that the Avatar is trapped in a room. Waiting. Helpless. And I can just... move my whole army in, ha ha ha ha!"
Shyu nodded hard, pleading, and almost urgently trying to get anyone to take Arzayanagi. "Yes, Admiral. Please. Before he finds another way. Before he—"
Zuko stepped in, eyes blazing. "Was Raven, ah, Lady Arza with the Avatar?"
The name landed like a dropped dagger. But Shyu just blinked innocently. His face settled into confusion so gentle it was almost insulting. "Lady... Raven?" he repeated, as if the concept didn't belong in his world. "No, Prince Zuko. I… I saw no one of that station aiding him. His allies had the look of... hmm, water tribe?"
Zuko's stare didn't soften.
Shyu hurried on, eager to give Zuko something. "Oh! But there was a girl," he said, voice small, "very injured. Restrained or drugged, I think? It looked like they had taken her prisoner, but perhaps not?" He went on like he really didn't think that was perhaps possible at all.
"Can be hard to tell with her." Zhao sharply interjected, to everyone's bewilderment. "Nevermind," he backed out, and shot to Zuko. "If you do something stupid to rescue your damsel in distress, don't expect my forces to hold back, Prince Zuko."
Zuko's jaw barely moved. "Shut up."
Zhao just scowled. "As much as you're tempting me to toss you back on your ship and leave you out entirely..." Zhao said, tone turning wry with irritation, "I cannot open the door." And he held up his hand to refuse Shyu's continuing vague offer of spear ownership.
Shyu lowered his gaze obediently. "Yes... it will burn, ah, pretenders," he murmured, as if ashamed for even lugging it around with his common hands.
Zhao's eyes flicked to Iroh. "General," Zhao said, almost lazily, "you are of royal blood. You can wield it."
Iroh's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I cannot," he agreed pleasantly. "And would not."
Zhao's brows lifted. "The Dragon of the West. Afraid of Arzayanagi?"
"No, haha. Although anyone SHOULD be afraid," Iroh went on genially. But couldn't avoid sounding darker as he went on, "my brother wished to wield it, and could not. He was furious! He demanded I hold it too, to prove it was just a myth that the royal bloodline can use its power, and I too was rejected—most painfully—by the cursed thing."
Zhao and Zuko just stared at them in confusion, and Shyu seemed to just be pleasantly waiting for story time to continue.
Iroh cleared his throat. "Hmm, well, the Fire Lord was only briefly saved from the indignity of being singled out. Because... without asking or knowing its importance, I must add—the Fire Lady picked up the spear, both hands wielding it. We expected a tragedy! But... and she is not even a bender, but it allowed her."
"What does that even mean," Zuko grumbled, annoyed automatically at the sudden mention of his mother.
"It was determined, Prince Zuko, that it was because she was pregnant with YOU," Iroh said with finality. But he broke down again to silly old man to smile and say, "anyway, it means you CAN use it, Prince Zuko, and I don't have to touch it ever again."
Shyu was wobbling the dang legendary thing right in front of Zuko's face. Iroh and Zhao leaned in, sensing a sort of intense gravitas to the action of someone claiming the spear.
"Fine. Whatever," Zuko said, already bored as he lazily snatched the exposed black shaft of Arzayanagi and started unceremoniously strutting off towards the temple without delay. He briefly turned back to see everyone cringing like he was about to explode, Iroh reaching out with his breath held. Nothing happened. Until Zuko barked, "it's a WEAPON! You people are as CRAZY as the ARZAYANS! Come ON!"