Disclaimer: the characters and places in the following work of fan-fiction are the intellectual property of Nickelodeon and, as such, they reserve the right to remove this story at their sole discretion.

This story is the eighth in a series, so please read the other seven before continuing!

---

Previously on Avatar

“You're alive?” gasped Zhao as he turned and saw the prince looming above him on the wall.

“You tried to have me killed!” shouted Zuko furiously, launching an attack with a cry of anguish.

“Yes, I did,” admitted Zhao venomously, “You're the Blue Spirit…and an enemy of the Fire Nation!

---

As Lee walked away, Jet’s gaze fell on Mushi, sipping a steaming cup of tea that had only moments ago been cold. His eyes widened as he realized that the only way to have accomplished that was through fire bending.

“Jet, relax!” Smellerbee pleaded later as they walked through the terminal, “So the old guy had some hot tea. Big deal.

“He heated it himself!” Jet snarled in reply, and then added menacingly, “Those guys are fire benders.

---

Jet stood in the doorway of the teashop, the startled patrons gaping in surprise at his outburst.

“He's a fire bender!” Jet insisted, pointing angrily to Iroh.

“Drop your swords boy,” soothed a nearby off-duty officer, “nice and easy.”

“You'll have to defend yourself,” spat Jet as he and Zuko fought in the street, “Then everyone will know. Go ahead; show them what you can do.”

The fight was ended abruptly when the Dai Li arrived and took Jet away.

---

The door to the large cell opened, and a shadow filled the door frame. The Blue Spirit spun around quickly, readying both swords to attack. Iroh entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“Uncle?” Zuko’s muffled voice from behind the mask was punctuated with a quizzical turn of his head.

“So, the Blue Spirit,” mused Iroh with mock puzzlement, “I wonder who could be behind that mask?”

---

Everyone stared in dismay at the fallen Freedom Fighter. He’d come back to his senses and broke off his attack against Aang only to be grievously wounded by Long Feng.

“You guys go find Appa,” instructed Smellerbee, “We'll take care of Jet.”

“We're not going to leave you,” replied Katara firmly.

“There's no time,” said Longshot, and every turned to gape at him as they heard his voice for the very first time since they’d met him. “Just go. We'll take care of him. He's our leader.”

“Don't worry Katara,” reassured Jet, “I'll be fine.”

---

Standing at the hidden opening on the shores of Lake Laogai, Zuko pulled out the Blue Spirit mask, regarding its demonic visage uncertainly as Iroh gently laid a hand on Zuko's shoulder.

“Leave it behind,” he suggested softly.

Hesitating for only a moment, the prince dropped the mask into the lake, and watched as the water slowly swallowed it into the darkness.

---

“So the old man wasn’t just any fire bender, but the Dragon of the West himself. And that means his nephew ‘Lee’ is actually….” He growled and flung the paper aside.

“They helped get the King back on the throne,” Smellerbee said pointedly. “They’re on our side now.”

“Oh yeah? Then why is he on trial?” he retorted.

“I don’t know,” she said in a small voice, “but it doesn’t seem fair.”

“Fair? What’s not fair about a couple of fire benders finally getting what’s coming to them?”

---

“Why can’t you just accept the reality that not everyone from the Fire Nation is a monster?” she seethed.

“Because I KNOW BETTER!” he shouted back, full of rage.

“Those two fire benders aren’t getting off so easy,” he swore with murder gleaming in his eyes. “I’ll make sure of that if it’s the last thing I do.”

---

Fire: Chapter 8

Legacy of the Fire Nation

Aang sat stiff and still, his legs crossed beneath him in a meditative pose as he focused on his breathing. The rising sun was still a far cry from cresting the treetops surrounding the camp, but he could feel its warmth in his lungs and coursing through his blood. It was an odd sensation: exhilarating and a little frightening at the same time. He was finally beginning to understand what it meant to be a fire bender.

But despite the tinge of fear, he was becoming anxious and disgruntled about not being allowed to meditate before a flame the way Zuko often did. He was fascinated at how the prince could control the rise and fall of the fire as he breathed, and desperately wanted to be able to do the same.

“So when do I get to try this with a fire?” he ventured hopefully to his companion.

“When I’m sure you won’t burn the whole campsite to the ground,” replied Zuko calmly from his meditative position alongside the young Avatar. He did not even bother to open his eyes.

“But if I never get to try, then how else will you know I won’t?” Aang countered with exasperated logic.

“Because you’ll get through an hour of meditation without talking,” Zuko returned pointedly, this time cracking his eyes just enough to give the boy a sidelong glare.

Aang dropped his shoulders down sheepishly, preparing himself for a lecture about the importance of concentration and focus, but he was rescued by the timely arrival of someone coming from the nearby campsite.

“Hey guys!” called Sokka brightly as pushed through the brush and sat down next to Aang, “how’s the meditation…thing…going?”

“Or being interrupted,” growled Zuko under his breath.

“Wow, you’re up early,” remarked Aang, oblivious to his teacher’s ire as the air bender completely abandoned his meditating.

“Yeah, you can thank Momo for that,” answered the warrior glumly. He sighed briefly before adding, “And I was having such a nice dream too.”

“Must’ve been really good,” chimed in Toph as she too came through the bushes to join them, “considering you tried to kiss Momo. That poor lemur’s gonna be traumatized for life now,” she added as she plopped down next to Zuko.

“For your information I did not try to kiss Momo,” Sokka defended indignantly. “I was-”

“Don’t wanna know!” Toph exclaimed hurriedly, holding up a hand for emphasis.

“Anyway,” continued Sokka dismissively, “Katara’s almost finished making breakfast so-”

“There you all are!” called Iroh, as he stepped into the tiny glade. Then turning to look over his shoulder, he hollered toward the camp, “They’re over here!”

“Well tell them the food is ready,” Katara’s faint reply drifted back.

“Why don’t we just squeeze everyone into the clearing and eat it here,” Zuko muttered sardonically.

“Splendid idea!” agreed Iroh blithely before calling back once more to Katara, “bring it up here, there’s a lovely view.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hand, wondering how long it would take him to learn that sarcasm was completely lost on his uncle. Meanwhile, Toph scooted over a bit to make room for the old fire bender to sit down beside her as Katara entered the now crowded clearing with a pot of food and a stack of bowls.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” she remarked dryly, settling in between Aang and Sokka. “Has three days of walking made everyone miss being crammed into Appa’s saddle or something?”

“Yeah, about the whole walking thing,” Toph interjected, “any chance we can take a day off from that? I haven’t spotted a single hint of Azula or any other Fire Nation troops since we left the mountains. I think it’s probably safe to fly again.”

The whole group stared at the blind earth bender in shock. Toph usually hated flying, and here she was the one suggesting they take to the air again. Sokka looked at her quizzically as he voiced what all of them were thinking.

“I figured you’d like all this walking.”

“It’s not the walking I mind,” she said, taking a sip from her bowl before explaining moodily, “But it’s really nerve wracking to constantly check and double check every little vibration in the earth for signs of trouble. I’m telling you, we’re safe now.”

“Well,” offered Katara thoughtfully, “you’re certainly more reliable than Sokka’s instincts...”

She turned a meaningful smirk toward the warrior, getting a doleful glare in return, while Aang snickered behind his bowl before adding his thoughts.

“Katara’s right,” he agreed, trying to be serious, “If Toph says we’re in the clear, then there’s no reason to not to fly.”

“But we should still find a market or something to re-supply at before we leave,” Katara stated pragmatically. “We’re getting low on food.”

Almost by habit, the group turned to regard Toph expectantly. They’d been following her lead for three days now, trusting in her ability to guide them away from any danger with her unique abilities.

Sensing their gazes upon her, the blind girl let out a small huff of irritation before pointing in the direction where the ground resonated with activity and answering their unspoken question with resignation.

“Village is that way.”

---

The gang broke off into two groups once they reached the market. Aang, Toph, and Iroh went to get tea supplies, while Katara, Sokka, and Zuko bought food.

“I think that’s more than enough fruit and vegetables, Katara,” complained Sokka as his sister piled two more small baskets of food into his already loaded arms, “why don’t we get some meat now?”

Katara rolled her eyes in exasperation. He’d been whining for meat since they started shopping, and it was grating on her nerves.

Zuko let out a short sigh as well, seeing the beginnings of yet another argument between the pair. Tuning their bickering out completely, he leaned against the booth and crossed his arms as he allowed his eyes to roam the across the market square, his mind wandering off as well.

As much as he hated being stuck on a ship for three years, times like this made him miss the solitude of his own room. At least he never had to listen to his crew complain (which he was certain they did), and he could get some peace and quiet practically whenever he wanted it. But traveling with the Avatar left him no privacy whatsoever, and while he was learning to appreciate the camaraderie, sometimes he just wanted to be alone.

The sound of his name brought Zuko’s attention back to his companions.

“What about him?” Sokka was saying, “I’m not the only person who wants meat. Isn’t that right, Zuko?”

“Don’t drag him into this,” Katara snapped before the prince could deny or confirm Sokka’s declaration. “I’m telling you that if you want something else to eat…”

Zuko ignored the rest as he went back to his own thoughts, continuing to gaze idly around at the scenery. From time to time, he’d spot some interesting object from one of the nearby shops and wonder if he should buy it; a five-string pipa his uncle would probably love to have, perhaps a book to pass the time on what was bound to be a long journey to the Fire Nation, a nice pair of twin dao in much better condition than his own set.

He was seriously considering the swords, wondering if he should go find out how much they cost when a barrow cart pulled in front of him and stopped, blocking his view of the weapons across the street. Initially perturbed to have his contemplations interrupted, his breath suddenly hitched in his throat when his eyes fell on the familiar blue mask staring at him from the side of the wagon.

As if possessed by a will of their own, his feet carried him the short distance to the cart, and he had pulled the mask down from its peg before his brain even registered what he was doing. He ran a thumb musingly over the painted surface.

“Three coppers and it’s yers,” said the merchant, startling Zuko into tearing his eyes from the hollow, mesmerizing gaze of the lifeless Blue Spirit.

“What?” he asked blankly.

“That mask yer’ fancyin’” the man explained with a nod toward object in Zuko’s hand. “I’ll let ya have it for three coppers.”

“I…I was just looking,” Zuko replied faintly and handed the mask back to the man.

“Suit yerself,” he shrugged, “But I’ll be parked here the rest of the day if ya change yer mind.”

The prince only nodded vaguely, his mind whirling with thoughts and memories he couldn’t grasp long enough to comprehend properly.

“There you are!” exclaimed Katara coming up alongside him with her overburdened brother in tow. “We’re going to go get Sokka some meat now,” she added with irritated resignation, “you coming?”

“Yeah,” he replied distantly, taking one last glance at the merchant putting the mask back on the cart. “Let’s go.”

---

A short while later, the mask was removed from its peg once more, and this time, three copper pieces were given to the barrow merchant. The man only shook his head at the strange young man who walked away with it, wondering why that mask had been so hard to sell in the first place. But he didn’t complain; at least it got sold this time.

The last one he’d had was stolen.