There was a Fire Nation ship refuelling and restocking at the colony known officially as New Sozin. This wasn’t an infrequent occurrence, but rumours that the ship belonged to the disgraced and exiled prince of their mother country was more than enough to drive the three children of the colony’s best farmer to the docks to check it out. As is common with siblings, this caused some argument between them.

“Kouji, why are you even coming with us?” demanded the oldest by five years, a young man who kept his black hair cropped close to his skull in a style that never ceased to aggravate anyone he came across. Golden eyes bored into his brother’s. “You get seasick just by setting foot on the docks!”

“I do not!” protested the younger boy, glaring up at the elder. Kouji’s hair was longer than his brother’s, kept off the back of his neck in a high topknot; his eyes were a silvery grey that contrasted with the rest of his family. “Besides, how often does the prince drop by the colonies?”

“A lot, I’d think,” commented the third child, a female. “I doubt that the Earth Kingdom villages would be inclined to give him the best of their supplies, even if they officially don’t mind the occupations.”

“Define ‘officially’, Yui,” drawled the eldest sibling.

She gave him a sweet, innocent smile. “You know exactly what I mean, Ichiro. There’s more than one way to be subversive.”

“Says the girl who runs away from home every time something happens she doesn’t like,” muttered Kouji, earning a smack from his twin.

“Knock it off,” said Ichiro, shaking his head. “Look, I’m going back. Let me know if anything interesting happens.”

The twins stared at him. “This was your idea, Ichi-ni!” pointed out Yui.

“Because I thought the Dragon of the West might be out,” Ichiro replied. “He’s not, so I’m going to go train. Don’t skip your afternoon classes.” The tall young man strode off while the younger siblings rolled their eyes in unison.

After awhile, Yui spoke again. “So, what do you think, Kou-kou?”

“Don’t call me that,” Kouji replied hotly. “And I think they could be doing it a lot better. Look at that — the way they’re loading, they’ll have to leave stuff behind! What’s the point of buying supplies if you can’t fit them all on your boat?”

Yui giggled. “So, what would you do?”

“Yui, no,” Kouji protested. “What good will it do, anyway? Not like anyone’s gonna listen to me. I’m ten! Remember what happened the last time?”

“What happened last time?” an older man asked from behind them.

The twins jumped, whirling in unison to stare at him. Yui stepped in smoothly while her brother tried to recover the use of his tongue. “They brushed him off ‘cause he’s a kid,” she replied, bowing politely.

The old man bowed back. “Hm. Well, I won’t brush you off. How would you fix this?”

Kouji stammered, but his sister took his hand in hers and leant him her strength. Softly, he explained to the stranger ways to make the loading more efficient, finishing with, “I’d have to see more of the storage area before I really got going, though.”

“…Well, then. Why don’t we go do that?” he asked, smiling.

Silver eyes went wide. “Really?” He’d be allowed on the prince’s ship?

“Really, really.”

Yui laughed. “I’ll go get you some paper, Kou-kou,” she told him, and slipped off.

“We’ll wait for her,” the old man said, still smiling.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Kouji said. “Oh — my name is Kouji. The girl is my twin sister, Yui.”

“I am glad to meet you, Kouji,” the old man said, bowing again.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, sir,” the boy replied as his sister came running up with parchment, ink, and a brush.

“Now, then. Shall we?” the old man asked, offering each of the children a hand.

Yui grabbed hold eagerly enough, though Kouji was a bit more hesitant. The faint green colour he turned as they boarded the ship seemed to account for that hesitation; however, the child took a deep breath and began to inspect the storage area.

The old man watched him work while Yui followed, keeping hold of the ink bottle and gamely letting the boy use her back for a surface to write on. The ease with which they did this indicated that they had done such a thing more than once; Kouji using his sister both as sounding board and writing desk. Finally they returned to the old man and Kouji handed him the parchment, then checked the back of Yui’s shirt to be certain nothing had bled through.

The old man scanned the paper, and his smile widened. “This is very clever.”

“So’s Kouji!” said Yui brightly, before her twin could blush and demur.

“Yes, he is,” he agreed.

“I’m not that clever,” Kouji objected, glaring mildly at his sister. “It just… works.”

“But many people — as you noticed — are not clever enough to make it work,” the old man pointed out.

“They’re just lazy,” Kouji explained. “Prefer doing it the old way.”

“Just ignore him. He’s modest,” Yui chirped.

“Yui!”

The old man laughed. “He’s also at least partially right, I think.”

The boy gave his twin a triumphant look, then he glanced at the sky and paled. “Yui! We’re late for class!”

“Oops,” said the non-repentant girl, but Kouji had her by the hand and was bowing to the old man.

“Thank you for hearing me out, sir, but we have to go. Farewell!” and he was gone, dragging his sister out behind him.

The old man smiled a little, watched them run off, and implemented the boy’s suggestions.

Afternoon turned into evening and the children of the colony were released from their classes. Most of the children went to the docks for another glimpse of the ship, but Kouji and Yui instead headed for home, since they’d already seen it and even been aboard.

Imagine their surprise when the old man from before was there, talking with their parents.

The twins exchanged surprised glances and slipped outside — Ichiro had shown then a place outside the greeting room where one could duck down out of sight and listen to what was going on.

From what they could overhear, it seemed that the old man wanted the twins to come along with them — Kouji could be useful and refine his organizational skills, and both children would thus be enabled to travel all over the world — save, of course, for their mother country.

“Is he kidding?” Kouji asked in a whisper.

“Kouji, this is great!” Yui replied, ignoring his question. “You’ll get to travel the world!”

“On a boat,” the boy grumbled as his mother explained that her youngest son fell prey to seasickness quite easily and expressed her concerns that such a trip would be extremely hard on him.

The old man assured her that it was entirely the children’s choice. If they didn’t want to come — or if only one wanted to, and not the other — that would be fine, as well.

Right about them, strong fingers grabbed them both by the ears. “That’s enough eavesdropping,” whispered Ichiro. “Sibling talk.” He dragged the twins to the storage shed and closed the door.

“No,” said Kouji immediately. “No, no, no, and did I mention no?”

“Yes,” said Ichiro simply. “Kouji, you have to go. It’s getting harder and harder to hide our bending from them.”

“So why can’t I just go with you when you leave?” Kouji demanded of his brother.

“Because Ichi-ni is going to go join the army,” Yui reminded him. “You’re only ten. They won’t take you.”

“Besides,” added Ichiro, “we already know what he wants you for. It’s something you’re good at.” He smirked at his disgruntled younger brother. “What better way to ensure good jobs in the future than a recommendation from royalty?”

Silver eyes scowled darkly at gold, and Yui giggled. “Well, it’ll help you get a normal job, anyway,” she soothed her twin. “And once you’ve got the credentials from that, you can keep up with your plan.”

Kouji sighed. “And you’re not coming?” he asked her plaintively.

Yui shook her head. “No. I’m not a bender, so I’m safe,” she reminded him. “And I know the woods around the colony better than even the earthbenders do.”

The boys laughed, remembering Yui’s near-constant running away from home. “All right,” said Kouji. “I’ll do it.”

“Just one thing,” said Ichiro seriously.

“I know, I know, keep the bending—” Kouji started, only to cut himself off when a tongue off flame appeared in the older boy’s hand.

“Not just that,” said Ichiro quietly. “Yes, it’s imperative that you keep your ability secret — but remember that you could save a life with it as well. Trust your judgement, little brother, and use it when you have to.”

“…all right,” Kouji whispered as the little flame was doused.

Ichiro held the door open for his younger siblings and shooed them into the house.

The old man rose to greet them. “Hello again.”

“Hello, sir,” Kouji said, bowing as his sister did.

Obviously unaware that all her children knew what was going on, their mother said, “Kouji, Yui, former General Iroh has offered to allow the both of you to accompany him on his journey.”

At the revelation of the old man’s identity, the twins shot each other surprised glances.

“Would you like to come?” Iroh asked them.

Yui declined promptly but politely, saying with a twinkle in her amber eyes, “Someone’s gotta stick around to drive Ichi-ni batty.”

The oldest sibling groaned dramatically, giving Kouji time to steel himself.

“Y-yes,” he said after a moment. “I… I’d love to travel with you, sir.”

The old man smiled. “Wonderful,” he said. “We’re leaving in the morning. I’m sorry you don’t have much time to get your things together.”

“I can manage, sir,” Kouji saids, his voice stronger with Yui leaning into him slightly.

“Then I’ll come pick you up here in the morning. Will that be all right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Until then,” he said, then bowed politely and left.

Kouji was promptly treated to a lecture from his mother about being on his best behaviour, how he was representing all of the Fire Nation colonies, especially New Sozin, and the boy tuned her out, wishing he’d been able to sneak off like Ichiro and Yui had as soon as they had realised that their mother had entered Lecture Mode.

His father was largely silent, but he put a hand on his son’s head before he headed out to check on the crops, missing the glare the boy shot him.

Luckily for Kouji, while he was receiving the Ultimate Lecture of Doom, Ichiro and Yui took it upon themselves to pack for him, for which their brother thanked them profusely when he realised what they’d done.

Ichiro was not at all surprised when Kouji and Yui fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms; he just covered them with a blanket and snuck out to practise his firebending.

As promised, General Iroh showed up early the next morning to collect the boy. Kouji was up and waiting outside for him, with the slightly panicked look of all young boys trying to avoid their mother’s well-meaning but unwanted ministrations.

The General assured the boy’s mother that all would be well, and they managed to get going in a little under a half-hour. Kouji didn’t look back, though his grip on his bag was tight enough to make his knuckles white — until they were halfway to the docks, when he abruptly smiled and relaxed.

Iroh smiled down at him. “It may be a while before you get back here.”

“That’s fine, sir,” he said with that same smile. “Yui was just reminding me that being apart doesn’t mean we’ll be out of contact.”

The old man nodded. “That’s good.”

Kouji nodded. “Thank you for bringing me along, sir,” he said then.

“You’re quite welcome,” the old man said. “I’m glad to do it.”

The boy hesitated, then added, “I, um… I think my mom was kind of understating the case about my seasickness, though.”

“That’s all right,” Iroh assured him.

“All right.” He accompanied the former general to the ship in silence from there out.

Once the General and his new tagalong were safely on board, the ship left the colony, heading south. True to Kouji’s comment to the old man, he spent the first three or four days being violently ill, but was keeping drink down by the second day and food on the fourth. By the sixth day, he was on his feet and exploring those parts of the ship he wasn’t forbidden from.

Three weeks after the boy had joined them, the ship was nearly at the south pole — and a pillar of blue-white light shot up in the sky a few miles away.

Startled by the light, Kouji shielded his eyes. “What is that?”

Rather than anyone actually answering Kouji’s question, the prince turned back to the General. “Finally. Uncle, do you realize what this means?”

Kouji fell silent, watching uncle and nephew interact. It was one of the fastest ways for him to learn.

“I won’t get to finish my game?” Iroh asked, a little wryly.

“It means my search… it’s about to come to an end.”

Search? wondered Kouji. Nobody had mentioned anything about a search.

The general sighed, and looked back down at his cards.

“That light came an incredibly powerful source! It has to be him!”

“Or it’s just the celestial lights,” Iroh pointed out. “We’ve been down this road before, Prince Zuko. I don’t want you to get too excited over nothing. Please, sit. Why don’t you enjoy a cup of calming jasmine tea?”

Because that always goes over so well, thought Kouji. He’d observed several instances of the exiled prince’s temper in the three weeks since he’d been on board, and Prince Zuko never took up on any of his uncle’s offers of tea. A pity, that; Iroh made very good tea.

“I don’t need any calming tea! I need to capture the Avatar!” the prince snapped. “Helmsman! Head a course for the light!”

Silver eyes went wide, and Kouji crept close to the ex-general. “The Avatar? Isn’t he dead?” he asked quietly, confused.

“He probably is,” the old man said, quietly, and more than a little sadly, looking down at his card game. “But Prince Zuko has to find him.” He refused to elaborate further on that point.

This didn’t make any sense whatsoever to Kouji, but he dropped the subject and curled tighter in his coat. It was cold.

The first Kouji knew of their arrival at their destination was when the boat ploughed directly into the glacier that held the village Prince Zuko had spied after the signal flare had gone off; the impact threw the boy to the floor of his room. Without hesitation, he ran on deck to see if they had crashed.

Then the ship’s hold opened, allowing the prince and several of the soldiers accompanying him into the village. It was impossible for Kouji to actually hear what was going on, but, halfway through the confrontation, a small, bald boy got in the middle of things. After a few more moments of fighting and conversation, the boy surrendered and came onto the ship with the prince and his soldiers.

Taking his usual position behind the former general, Kouji peeked out around the old man’s bulk to get a closer look at this kid.

He was about two years older than Kouji, with an arrow tattooed on his head, and others on his hands. The prince was examining a staff that apparently had come with the prisoner.

“This staff will make an excellent gift for my father,” he said, quietly. “I suppose you wouldn’t know of fathers, being raised by monks.” Then the teenager seemed to come out of whatever dark reverie he’d lost himself in, and snapped, “Take the Avatar to the prison hold. And take this to my quarters.” He handed the staff to his uncle and stalked off.

“…Here, would you take this to his quarters for me?” Iroh asked, handing Kouji the staff.

Kouji nodded and accepted the wood, hoping that Zuko would not be in his quarters when he delivered the staff.

Moments later, just as he was leaving the prince’s room, Kouji heard a commotion. “The Avatar’s escaped!” someone shouted, and, sure enough, the other boy shot past him, nearly knocking him over.

“Sorry!” he called back, but didn’t slow down.

Kouji just stared after the saffron-clad boy, silver eyes wide. That was airbending? He pulled himself together and ran to find Iroh.

Iroh was asleep — or, at least, pretending to sleep — in his quarters.

“The Avatar escaped,” Kouji said once he’d roused the general.

The old man nodded, and rose, seeming grimmer and sharper than Kouji had ever seen him. Made wary by this change, Kouji quietly followed him. Rather than going for Zuko’s quarters, as would seem logical (that was probably where the Avatar was heading), the General headed out onto the deck.

Kouji didn’t ask, but kept up, pulling on his oversized coat (he’d had to borrow one from one of the soldiers when it turned out his clothing wasn’t up to the task of keeping him warm in the poles) as they crossed into the outside.

No sooner had they got there that the Avatar shot off the bridge — apparently, his staff was a glider in disguise.

Prince Zuko followed him, jumping after him and clinging to his legs.

Boy and teenager plummeted to the deck, and Kouji’s eyes widened as they began to fight.

And then the Avatar’s metaphorical cavalry arrived, in the form of two children from the ice village riding a very large flying monster of some kind.

“…What is that?” Zuko asked.

Flying… Kouji stared at the six-legged beast, his eyes wide in awe.

“Appa!” the Avatar cried, delighted. Then he and Zuko resumed their fight, the prince finally knocking the Avatar overboard.

From above, Kouji heard a girl’s voice cry out. “Aang, no! Aang! Aang!”

Then something very unexpected and rather frightening happened — the Avatar shot out of the water, eyes glowing blankly, in a column of water.

Kouji had left Iroh’s side to retrieve the fallen staff-glider; on seeing the glowing avatar, he froze, his eyes wide. Then the Avatar and his water-column crashed to the deck, knocking the prince overboard. Shaking himself, Kouji finished his move to the staff — and found himself racing to get to it before a young dark-skinned man did.

The two of them got there at the same time; though Kouji’s grab was slightly faster and he’d started to pull back as the older boy grabbed hold, halting his progress.

Then a third hand grabbed hold of the staff — apparently, Zuko wasn’t quite as far overboard as previously assumed.

The dark-skinned boy jerked the staff backwards into Zuko’s forehead, knocking him off. “That’s from the Water Tribe!” he shouted down.

Silent and angry, his ear ringing as the boy had shouted directly into it, Kouji wrapped his other hand around the staff and jerked away from him, trying to pull free. The older boy jerked back on the staff, trying to wrench it out of Kouji’s grasp.

“Let — go!” the colonist snapped, struggling to keep his grip.

“You — first!” the older boy snapped back, tugging harder.

“Make me!”

In response, the dark boy kicked out at Kouji’s legs. Kouji took the hit with a grunt — he’d weathered similar attacks from Ichiro from time to time — and hauled back again.

And went too far, throwing himself off-balance.

“Ha!” the older boy cried, and ran off towards the bison with the staff — just as the soldiers the Avatar’s waterspout had knocked over were regaining their feet.

Kouji got to his feet and started to run after the older boy, only to be caught in the sudden spout of ice water the girl had accidentally thrown at them both.

"Katara!" yelled the boy.

She then turned around and froze the approaching soldiers, inches away from her neck. Kouji then lost track of what was going on, as he was trying to break free of the ice trapping him without breaking his ankles.

The dark boy, having a sharpened boomerang, had much more luck freeing himself, and he, the girl, and the Avatar flew away on the bison, just as Iroh was helping Zuko back up onto the ship, and the two princes attempted to shoot the bison down.

This did not end well — the Avatar deflected the shot into a glacier, burying the entire bow in a sudden avalanche.

“Good news for the Firelord,” Iroh said. “The Firenation’s greatest threat is just a little kid.”

“That kid, uncle, just did this,” Zuko pointed out. “I won’t underestimate him again. Dig the ship out and follow them!” he ordered, turning to the frozen soldiers, and those trying to melt them out. “…as… soon as you’re done with that.”

Kouji stayed where he had been frozen to the deck, just staring after the bison. “Wow…,” he whispered, wishing that he, too, was aboard. He wanted to fly so badly he could taste it.

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