"Go against the grain"--Dove PROMISES message

That Which was Searched For

The Blue Spirit made sure to vanish before daylight broke. No one must see him. If they saw—especially if the Avatar saw—it was all over. He watched them all night while they slept, struggling with his indecision, but he disappeared before they awoke and packed up their camp. He would wait for a while after they’d gone, and just before they left his range of sight, he would follow them from that safe distance, and catch up with them by the time night fell.

Seeing them together, how awkwardly they behaved now compared to their old selves, sent a pang of guilt through his heart. Maybe they would still be their old selves if it weren’t for me, he thought. What have I done…? I’ll make it right…

… "Uncle…I’m sorry." Zuko waited pointlessly, knowing that his uncle could never forgive him for such a treacherous act. He hung his head and sighed deeply, leaning his brow against the metal door of the cell.

"You’re apology is accepted." Zuko’s head shot up. What? Accepted? "Azula is a manipulator," Iroh went on quietly. "She has too much sway over you, Prince Zuko. Her voice taints your mind."

"Uncle…" Zuko started to speak, but silenced himself for lack of words.

"It isn’t me that you should be asking forgiveness of anyway, nephew," the Dragon of the West admonished. "There are others that you have wronged, and their hurts run deeper. The Waterbender, Katara, trusted you, and you wronged her trust. The Avatar may be dead…"

"He’s alive," Zuko interrupted.

"What?" Iroh cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know? Azula hasn’t captured him, has she?"

Zuko shook his head. "No. He’s alive. Katara wouldn’t let him die. She has water from the Spirit Oasis…it has ‘special properties’…He’s alive. Azula thinks he’s dead…but he’s alive." The old man sighed inwardly. "Uncle?" Iroh lifted his head to meet Zuko’s eyes. "What should I do?"

The old general thought for a long moment before answering.

"You must become the Blue Spirit again, my nephew," he said quietly at last. "That is the only way in which you may accomplish your task. What that task is, only you can decide. But know this, Prince Zuko: You must not let the Blue Spirit become a part of you, as you did before. The time will come for you to give it up, and you must be ready for that when the time comes. Then, the Blue Spirit must vanish forever, never to act again in this world, for good or evil."

"But…Uncle…" Zuko stammered. "…How…?…The mask is gone…"

"You will find a way, nephew," Iroh said with a slight, knowing smile. "You will find a way."…

With that thought, he drew a deep breath and plunged deep into the still, cold water. He forced his eyes open, despite the sting of the water, and scanned the floor of the lake. It was dark, even the sand that coated the bottom, unlike anything he’d ever seen in the Fire Nation, or even the Water Tribe. At first, he saw nothing, until his eyes became accustomed to the dimness. After a moment, everything that had at first been dark blurs against the darker sand began to take form and definite shape to his sight. Dark, greenish weeds and other water plants shot up from the floor of the lake in the shallows and continued on down the bank to the drop off, where the water became so deep and dark that he couldn’t distinguish anything. If he were going to find the mask, it’d have to be somewhere before the drop off; searching past there was pointless.

Off to his right, he could see the crumbled remains of the tunnel that had once led to the Dai Li stronghold under the lake. Its shattered remnants marked the place where he’d thrown the blue oni mask into the lake. He’d start there, though the likelihood that it was still there was slim.

Zuko went back and forth slowly over the place, but he saw nothing of interest among the bramble of the lake bottom. He’d been just about to retreat back to the surface for air when something other than dark waterweeds caught his eye: a snatch of blue in the darkness. Zuko’s lungs were already burning for air, but he dove deeper into the water rather than risk kicking up dirt and losing sight of it. He extended his arm as far as he could as the water grew heavier on him. His fingers brushed the smooth surface of the object, and he snatched it up quickly, pushing off back toward the surface.

He breached the surface of the lake with a gasp, cool air relieving his burning lungs, and examined the blue oni mask that he held in his hands.

What…? It—It was fully intact! The mask was whole and complete as the day he’d thrown it in the lake. How in the world…? It didn’t even seem to have been affected by the water at all! Almost like there was some sort of spell protecting it.

"Well…" he muttered to himself, tracing the laughing mouth of the mask with his index finger. "I don’t know what happened here…but I’ll take it, whatever it is."

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Zuko tugged on his black gloves and pulled up his hood, tying the mask of the Blue Spirit into place. He stood and strapped his broadswords to his back, watching the calm vastness of Lake Laogai with a thoughtful expression; the lake’s surface was perfectly still and silent, undisturbed by any motion, clear and flat like a mirror.

A mirror, Zuko mused. He leaned over the motionless water; its reflective surface mirrored his image—the Blue Spirit’s image—perfectly. Black as night. Lithe as shadow. Identity hidden behind a laughing oni mask. The Firebender grinned behind his guise.

I’ve found a way, Uncle.

The Blue Spirit watched as Katara and her friends made their camp, listening intently as the wind rustles the leaves of the green trees. He remained among the branches, careful never to touch foot to the ground so the little blind Earthbender—her name was Toph, if he wasn’t mistaken—couldn’t sense his vibrations and feel that he was there, if she hadn’t already.

Another day had passed. Still, he hadn’t revealed himself to Katara. Still, she knew nothing of his presence. Still, she didn’t know that he was sorry. Still, she hated him.

Yet all of this could not motivate him. Perhaps it was fear of rejection and hatred that held him back. But it was fear. Whatever its form may have been.

Zuko, you fool, he thought sadly.