Chapter 69: Travel North
The sun had long risen behind them, casting its golden light across the scattered clouds that trailed in wisps above the sea. A few hundred miles from the Fire Nation, the waters far below were calm and glittering under morning light. High above it all, Appa soared steadily through the air, his great tail sweeping with each gentle thrust of flight. His fur still held soot in places, but he moved with the familiar ease that reminded them all of home, of freedom.
On his back were four figures, each seated in thoughtful silence.
Aang sat at the front, his legs crossed, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. His posture was straighter than before, but his breathing still came slower than usual. He hadn't spoken since they'd taken off, and his hand absently rubbed at the raw marks around his wrists.
Behind him sat Sokka, still wearing the red and black uniform of the Fire Nation soldier he'd used to infiltrate the palace. The helmet rested beside him, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, one hand gripping his club, the other tightening and loosening in rhythm with the flight.
Katara was further back, arms wrapped around her knees. She still wore the flowing dress of crimson and gold from her time in the palace, the fine silk now wrinkled and flecked with ash. Her hair had come loose in the wind. She hadn't bothered to fix it.
Sitting at the rear, slightly hunched due to his size, was Sulan, the towering earthbender whose strength and tunneling skills had saved them all. His arms were folded across his chest, but his brow was furrowed, his eyes watching the others.
The silence lingered until Katara finally broke it.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, leaning toward Aang.
He stirred a little, lifting his head. "Just a bit weak," he answered. "From the experiments they ran yesterday. They didn't touch me much until then, honestly. I was fed. Treated... well, relatively okay."
"So Zuko must have been behind that," Sokka said, glancing back. "The food part, I mean."
Aang nodded slowly. "Yeah, probably. It wasn't moldy at least, so… it had to be him."
A faint breeze tugged at their clothes, and for a moment, the soft rush of wind and Appa's steady grunts were the only sounds again.
"I still don't get it," Sulan spoke up, his voice a low rumble that broke the quiet like distant thunder.
Sokka turned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Sulan shook his head, clearly frustrated. "Why would the prince of the Fire Nation, of all people, go through all that trouble to bring the Avatar to the Fire Nation… and then go through even more trouble to help him escape?"
There was a silence.
Aang and Katara exchanged a glance.
Sokka just frowned, the question clearly bothering him too.
Aang looked forward again, eyes narrowed at the passing clouds. He knew the answer, or part of it. He knew that Zuko wasn't really Zuko. Not anymore. Not completely. He was Victorcrane now too, a soul from another world who had taken the body of the Fire Nation prince and now wielded its power, but not for the reasons anyone would guess. Zuko had claimed he needed Aang alive. Needed him to prepare for a threat Aang still didn't fully understand.
But even that wasn't the whole truth. Aang could feel it in his bones. There was more. Something deeper. Something Zuko hadn't shared yet.
And the others knew even less.
Sokka had been kept in the brig of Zuko's ship. His only contact with the prince had been cold orders and brief interactions. He didn't trust Zuko, not really. He followed Aang's lead.
Katara… Katara had been closest. She had seen Zuko in private, shared the same room, even the same bed. And yet… as she stared now at her hands, her eyes distant, it was clear.
She didn't understand him either.
Zuko had been kind. Cruel. Quiet. Commanding. Gentle one moment and unreadable the next. He'd been nothing like the boy who once threatened to burn her village down. And in truth, nothing like the boy she had imagined a prince would be.
He had become familiar, but never known.
"Well," Aang finally said, his voice light but tired, "Zuko did it because… he's a good guy."
Sulan raised a brow. "The prince of the Fire Nation? Son of the Fire Lord? A good guy?"
He didn't hide the doubt in his voice.
Aang smiled faintly and let the wind carry the silence for a little while longer.
No one answered Sulan's question directly.
Because none of them knew how to.
The land came into view like a blessing from the spirits. A long stretch of forest-covered ridges gave way to the jagged hills and stone-backed cliffs of the mountain range. The high peaks were kissed with morning mist, and in the distance, rivers glimmered between deep valleys like silver threads winding through green cloth.
"There," Katara pointed, her voice cutting through the wind as she leaned forward. "That ridge, open clearing!"
Appa let out a low, weary groan in acknowledgment.
The bison began his descent, great tail propelling them downward. The wind rushed louder for a few moments, flapping Sokka's armor and tugging at the loose folds of Katara's dress. Aang leaned heavily on the reins but didn't need to do much, Appa knew where to go.
As they touched down, Appa's legs hit the earth with a gentle thump, followed by the slight skidding of his paws on the dirt. Dust kicked up. A few loose rocks tumbled down from the nearby slope.
The moment they stopped, Katara jumped off first, falling to her knees with a grateful sigh.
"We made it," she whispered, breathing in the crisp mountain air.
Sokka pulled off his helmet and flopped back against Appa's side. "We're actually out," he muttered. "I didn't think we'd ever see anything that wasn't red and gold again."
Aang slid down next, slower than the others, and steadied himself as soon as his bare feet touched the ground. He swayed slightly, but Sulan caught him by the arm.
"You alright?" the earthbender asked, voice gruff but genuine.
Aang gave a weak smile. "I'll be fine… I just need a few days to get my energy back."
"Still can't believe we pulled it off," Katara said.
"Well," Sulan added, stepping away from Appa and cracking his neck, "I think this is where we part ways."
The others turned to him.
"I owe you all more than I can say," Sulan went on. "But it's been years since I last saw my family in Omashu. They probably think I died out there."
"You're going to report to the King?" Aang asked.
Sulan nodded. "That too. He needs to know what's going on. What I saw in that dungeon…"
"Thank you, Sulan," Katara said softly, and Aang gave a short bow in gratitude.
Sokka gave him a warrior's salute. "You earned your freedom, man. Now go enjoy it."
Sulan cracked a smile and turned, beginning his descent along the mountain path. Within minutes, he was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading into the rustle of trees and rock.
The three stood in silence for a while, the wind whispering across the clearing.
"Well," Sokka eventually said, "now that we're here… what happens next?"
Katara reached beneath her outer robe and drew out a scroll, wrapped in a crimson ribbon.
"Zuko gave me this," she said, unrolling it. "Told me to read it once we were safe in the Earth Kingdom."
The others leaned in as she began to read aloud.
**---**
**To the Avatar and Company,**
So, you are free once more, Aang. I could not be with you as you made your escape, but hopefully, this new freedom proves your doubts about my intentions wrong. I have now done what we agreed upon in the Spirit World that day. As such, you must now fulfill your end.
The Winter Solstice is only a few weeks away. We will meet again during the solstice. Find yourself any shrine, and I will meet you and Kyoshi in the Spirit World.
Until then, begin your journey north. I have provided you with the necessary resources to make it less painful, though the journey will still test you. The next time we meet in the physical world, it will be as enemies. Show me how strong you have become. Once we meet in the Spirit World, I will reveal more about what must come next.
There is a waterbending master at the North Pole. He will train you and Katara. For now, use the scroll hidden on your bison to begin your training.
Sokka, make good use of this opportunity. I'll be taking Suki. So I've left you Yue. If you don't make her yours, I will. As for you, Katara… well done. You played your role well enough. Just remember what we agreed upon.
See you soon.
**---**
Katara lowered the scroll slowly. The three of them were quiet.
"Well, that answers absolutely nothing," Sokka muttered. "Who's Suki? Who's Yue?"
He scratched his head, clearly annoyed. "And why does it sound like I'm in some kind of weird romantic competition I didn't sign up for?"
Aang didn't respond. He stared ahead at the sky, jaw tight. His thoughts were far away already, on the solstice, on the shrine, on the promise Zuko had made.
Katara folded the scroll again and stared at it for a long while. Zuko's words played over in her mind.
'Just remember what we agreed upon.'
She gave a soft, thoughtful smile. There was something reassuring in the fact that even now, he held her to their bargain.
"At least we have money and supplies," Aang finally said. "And no more chains."
Sokka grinned. "No more Fire Nation beds either."
"And no more palace halls," Katara added.
They all looked at each other, the tension breaking just a little.
"We should rest here for a day or two," Katara said. "Then we'll head north."
"Agreed," Aang replied, his tone steady.
The three of them turned toward Appa and began unloading what Zuko had left them, provisions, maps, and a second scroll with waterbending exercises. As the morning brightened, and the wind whispered around them in the safety of the mountains, their next journey was about to begin.
---
Back in the Fire Nation, night had fallen over the caldera, and the celebration was well underway.
The Great Dining Hall of the palace was bathed in orange firelight and golden glow, filled with the rich hum of music, conversation, and laughter. Noblemen in silk robes, generals in dress armor, foreign envoys in elaborate patterns, and ministers of state gathered in clusters, their voices rising in rhythm with the pluck of zithers and drums in the gallery above. Incense curled through the air, mixing with the scent of roasted meats and spiced stews.
The long rows of tables were lined with delicacies from every corner of the empire. Twin roasted turtle-ducks glazed in honey-sesame rested beside bowls of dragonbone soup. Platters of flame-seared eel-fowl sat next to dishes of fried komodo-rhino dumplings, their steam rising like banners. Pyramids of fire flakes and roasted sea prickle surrounded ornamental bowls of lychee jelly. The scent was thick, almost intoxicating.
But no table was more lavish than the one at the far end of the hall, raised above the others on a grand dais carved from black volcanic stone.
There sat the royal family.
At the center sat Fire Lord Ozai, his sharp eyes flicking between guests like a hawk surveying prey. He wore his crimson and gold armor loosely tonight, the royal crown resting in full display upon his head. To his right, dressed in ceremonial crimson robes with gold trim and a heavy sash, sat his newly crowned son, Crown Prince Zuko. His hair was tied back in a topknot now, his face expressionless as he picked at a plate of sea serpent roast and steamed dragon peppers.
To Ozai's left was General Iroh, dressed not in armor but fine robes of black and dark gold, holding a cup of tea between both hands. His expression was pleasant but distant, as though his mind were elsewhere.
And beside Iroh, barely touching her food, sat Princess Azula.
Her arms were crossed. Her brows low. Her expression somewhere between bored and bitter. She hadn't smiled once the entire evening. The flickering firelight cast shadows across her face, giving her a sharpness that warded off even the most high-ranking ministers from making small talk.
As the dishes were being passed and the servants moved along with ladles of heated wine, Ozai finally spoke, his tone low but direct, as though merely confirming a detail.
"So," he said, carving into a slice of roasted eel-hawk with unnerving calm, "you mean to tell me the same people who freed the Avatar… also took your little waterbending plaything with them?"
Zuko raised his eyes to meet his father's.
"Yes, Father. When I returned to my ship to use her brother as leverage to lure her back, her brother was gone too," Zuko replied, voice calm. "The guards assigned to him were found unconscious. Same condition as Zhao's men."
Iroh raised a brow. "So they used some kind of toxin?"
"That's the assumption," Ozai said. "According to reports, the guards remember nothing. Only dizziness before they lost consciousness."
"Poison gas, maybe," Zuko mused, slicing a dumpling in half. "Or some other method that doesn't leave a trace."
Ozai took a long sip of his drink, his expression darkening.
"If a group exists capable of executing this type of infiltration," he said, "then I'm afraid we have more to worry about than just incompetent commanders."
"A group, huh?" Zuko repeated thoughtfully, chewing slowly. "That reminds me of something I came across during my exile."
"Oh?" Ozai asked. "What are you thinking, Zuko?"
Zuko leaned forward slightly, his voice just loud enough for the high table to hear. "While I was researching the Avatar's movements and historical accounts, I came across references to a secret society. A group that transcended the nations. Supposedly ancient, highly capable. Dedicated not to any kingdom or Fire Lord, but to preserving balance, just like the Avatar."
Iroh shifted slightly in his seat.
"A group of spies?" one of the nobles seated nearby asked, scoffing lightly.
Zuko shook his head. "Not spies. Think of them more like hidden guardians. Operatives. Philosophers. Masters."
He set down his utensils and looked straight across the table.
"Ever heard of the Order of the White Lotus?"
The words struck like lightning.
Iroh, mid-sip of tea, choked slightly, coughing into his sleeve. A sharp and sudden sound, uncharacteristic of him. His eyes widened for just a heartbeat, and he quickly recovered, but not before Zuko saw it.
Zuko's gaze didn't leave his uncle's face.
He smiled, just a little.
The color drained ever so slightly from Iroh's expression. But he said nothing.
At the end of the table, Fire Lord Ozai raised an eyebrow.
Zuko lifted his cup of rice wine and took a long, quiet sip.
[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers!]