Chapter Text
In the early hours of morning where creatures of day began to stir and those of night settled, Bích opened herself to the Swamp's message. Unlike her little protégé, Bích was not in tune to the Swamp's passing whims. And as much as her son envied his mother's abilities as a child, Bích could not connect with the Swamp at any given moment as he now could.
The Swamp didn't always speak to Bích because it didn't need to. Their relationship was as old as Bích herself. She understood the Swamp and it trusted her to speak for it even when it did not give her words. So when one of their visitors also rose with the sun every morning, Bích did not begrudge him for joining her in a time she usually reserved for the Swamp. It would speak to her if it had something important she needed to know.
As the man who called himself Sung prepared his morning tea, Bích felt the Swamp's call. She excused herself from their routine and wandered through the trees. The Swamp needed her assistance, and Bích knew exactly who would be giving the Swamp trouble.
"Just tell him," little Châu's voice filtered through the foliage, echoed by a scolding warble from Băngảng.
At the foot of the Great Tree, the scholar boy sat on the roots of a smaller tree. A peculiar creature with glowing eyes had the boy's journal with a pile of growing papers beside it. The canine's eyes flashed and another paper joined the pile. So this must be the boy's spirit companion Huu had mentioned.
"Yeah, of course I can just tell him, but he's not going to believe me!" the boy who called himself Hui groaned. "You don't know my uncle. He doesn't want to let me go to the North Pole. Even with clear instructions from Avatar Yangchen of all people, he's still going to resist! He'll act like he believes me, but won't really and is going to try everything possible to prevent me from going."
The Swamp had connected him with the spirit of a past Avatar? Bích inched closer to the children. In another life, this boy would have been offered to the Swamp and accepted as one of its own, just as Châu and countless others had been.
"I don't see how lying to him would change his mind," Châu said, her gaze wandering to Bích's location hidden among the brush. "I don't think he likes me much anyways."
Hui snorted. "It's not that he doesn't like you. He's just weirded out by you. Because, seriously Châu, you're unnerving."
"Ah, that's fair enough."
"But that's exactly why you should tell him the Swamp said I should go to the North Pole! He'll be more likely to believe you!"
Châu frowned and stroked Băngảng's neck as she thought. "But the Swamp didn't say that. Your Avatar Yangchen said that. I think the Swamp would be happy if you stayed here longer and played with it."
A gust of wind whirled around the children, startling Hui and eliciting a small giggle from Châu. The boy looked up to the Tree with a huff.
"Maybe you should just teach Châu to airbend instead of harassing me! I have important things to do. I don't have time to play! I swear, you're almost worse than Toasty."
The knowledge spirit lightly snapped at the boy's hand in protest. Hui ruffled the spirit's fur, but frowned when he realized the wind had abruptly stopped in response to his words. He looked to Châu, who looked around with a confused frown. Bích's purpose for being summoned had arrived.
"The Swamp is afraid of having new airbenders of its own," Bích said as she emerged from the shadows of the early morning. The children turned to her, neither seemed surprised by her presence. "That is why the Air Nomads' Offering of the Winds had been an important occasion."
"Mama Bích, are you saying the Swamp could teach me how to airbend if it wanted to?" Châu asked in wide-eyed wonder.
"I don't see why it wouldn't be able to," Hui said before Bích could answer. "It's an original bender like the moon or the sky bison. The first people that lived here had learned from it, so why shouldn't you be able to?"
"It could," Bích agreed. She lowered herself on a root with a long groan. Days of sneaking through the Swamp were long behind her, and yet Bích could not resist the opportunity when it presented itself. "But it won't. The world is more dangerous than ever for it to welcome new airbenders to grace these canopies."
Châu cocked her head, questions still at the tip of her tongue. The boy drooped and accepted Bích's words with a solemn nod. Unlike the young Voice, this child understood what the world outside the Swamp was like. A world of war and terror was not one the Swamp would want to expose its people to.
"But, if the Avatar is found and the war is brought to an end, surely the Swamp will feel it's finally safe enough, right?" Hui asked, looking up with a hopeful spark in his eyes.
Ah, the optimism of youth. Bích smiled to herself as she shook her head. If only things could be so simple. "Perhaps, but the Swamp hasn't taught any of our ancestors the way of air long before this war started. We don't know what happened to the Swamp's first people, but it mourns them dearly and fears that whatever brought their demise could happen again."
Both children deflated and found comfort in their animal companions. As Hui buried his face in his knowledge spirit's fur, Châu looked up from Băngảng's shell with a glimmer of hope.
"But, wouldn't the Avatar help the Swamp keep us safe?"
Hui scoffed. "I mean, if the Avatar is anything like Yangchen, of course they would-"
"But the Avatar is gone," Bích interrupted with a stern tone. She would not allow false hopes to fester in her young protégé. "We may not be involved with the affairs of the world outside the Swamp, young scholar, but even we are aware the Avatar has been gone since your war began."
With a stubborn set to his jaw, Hui defiantly met Bích's gaze. "Well, maybe someone is going to find them and bring them back."
Was this why the Swamp liked this boy, why he was favored by spirits? Would he be the one to find the Avatar at long last? A gentle breeze wrapped around their small group. Bích closed her eyes and lost herself to the wet air of the Swamp. No, that was not the role this boy would play. But he would be an important player nonetheless.
"Little scholar, tell me, how did the Swamp react to your Avatar Yangchen when she visited?"
The question caught the boy off guard, but he recovered quickly to answer the question. "There was a large whirlwind that greeted Yangchen's group as they approached the Swamp. From how Yangchen wrote about it, it sounds like the Voices convinced her it was spirit activity that created the wind. But it was the Swamp, right? It was excited to meet her! But... also wary of her?"
Bích nodded. "Yes, that's correct. As our stories go, the Voices were confused by the Swamp's reaction to her. Just as my mother was confused by the Swamp's reaction to a young Air Nomad child during one of the final Offering of the Winds."
"What?" Hui leaned forward, eyes wide with a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth. "It was something similar to what happened to Yangchen?"
"It was perhaps ten years before the airbenders would never return," Bích said in a low voice. The ruckus of the waking Swamp quieted around them. Both Châu and Hui gave Bích their full attention. "A young Air Nomad from the Southern Temple attended his first and last Offering of the Winds. For as soon as his guardians landed in the Swamp, it came to life with its own winds and swept the toddler up in its whirlwinds."
"My mother nor any of the other Voices could understand the Swamp's feelings toward the child. It meant the boy no harm—had swept him up in its excitement—but also seemed wary of his presence. The Air Nomad elders never brought the boy back for the festival, and we never learned why the Swamp acted the way it did toward him."
Hui jumped to his feet. His knowledge spirit yipped in protest as it was thrown from its perch in his lap. "Are you implying that kid was the Avatar!?"
"I'm merely telling you a story similar to one you already know," Bích said with a grin. "What you can draw from the parallels is up to you."
"Oh for-" Hui groaned and threw his head back to glare at the sky.
Châu laughed at his frustration as the spirit pawed at his legs, whining sympathetically. With a chuckle of her own, Bích pushed herself up and clapped her hands.
"Now, I believe you need assistance convincing your uncle to accompany you to the North Pole."
In deciding to leave the Swamp, Iroh was fully prepared for a reinvigorated Zuko, determined to go to the poles. This journey into a spirit-imbued place had not brought Zuko any closer to his objective, so Iroh expected him to be more convinced than ever that going to the poles was the only course of action. It was going to be a battle to hold Zuko back, but Iroh was prepared for it.
Iroh was not, however, prepared for Zuko to come racing back into the village making claims that the Swamp told him to go to the North Pole. If that wasn't bad enough, Bích and Châu trailed behind his nephew, supporting said claims.
How was Iroh supposed to refute the guidance of a great spirit?
More importantly, why was a great spirit pushing his nephew toward such a difficult and perilous journey? Iroh did not know what the spirits wanted with Zuko, but he was not pleased with them. The morning had only just begun and Iroh was exhausted.
"Now, I'm not calling your expertise into question," Iroh said to Bích as Zuko shoveled in his breakfast. "But I'm a bit confused as to why a swamp spirit would advise my nephew toward the arctic."
Bích cackled and slapped her hand on Iroh's back. "Young man, the spirits work in many ways and it is not my place to reveal their secrets."
"Yes, but perhaps the spirits could take pity on a weary uncle trying to keep his fourteen-year-old from harm."
"The Swamp likes him," Châu said, suddenly at Iroh's side. He was too tired to startle at the young girl and merely looked down at her blank stare. "It won't send him to danger."
"I fear the Swamp may be underestimating my nephew's penchant for getting himself into trouble," Iroh sighed.
There was little else to say on the situation for now. Trying to hold Zuko back from charging toward the North Pole was a battle to be held later. The least Iroh could do was prolong the argument by another day as Zuko rested. It had not escaped his notice how Zuko had ventured into the village from the depths of the Swamp first thing in the morning and how dark the circles under his eyes were getting.
It did not bode well for Iroh when he lost even that concession.
"Ah, it's silly to wait around restin' when you can rest on your boat!" Huu exclaimed when Iroh asked for one more day of hospitality. "Me 'n some of my benders can get you to the edge of the Swamp by sundown and you won't have to lift a finger!"
There was no speaking with Zuko once the waterbenders left them at the Swamp's borders either. Zuko spent the majority of their journey furiously writing in his journal, unable to catch up on his sleep with the sun overhead. As soon as the sun began to set, Zuko began to droop from exhaustion. Without the pull of the Swamp, he would hopefully get a full night's worth of sleep.
The same could not be said for Iroh. His rest was fitful with his thoughts. What would be the best approach to convince Zuko to wait? He didn't want to make Zuko feel belittled or for his achievements to be downplayed. Iroh was proud of Zuko and the connection he made with the spirits through his journeys... even if he was wary of that connection.
Hopefully Major Hifumi would have a convincing argument to delay Zuko by at least a few months. Winter lasted much longer at the poles and Iroh's mind plagued him with the worst case scenarios of what could happen to his nephew in an extreme climate he was unused to.
Zuko picked up on Iroh's hesitance, and dared not speak a word about the North Pole despite his obvious excitement. He likely knew Iroh would express his misgivings should Zuko bring the topic up. So it loomed over their small boat in an oppressive silence as they traveled back to the Sazanami. Iroh was much too tired to begin this argument without back-up.
The sun had long since set as the Sazanami came into sight. Anchored along the shoreline of a forest several miles from the nearest settlement, the ship was eerily dark. They had to be careful when transferring the Air Lantern to keep Zuko's scholar persona secure, but a few more lanterns would have been appreciated.
"Did they just expect we would be late?" Zuko said as he guided the Air Lantern closer and no one called out from the deck. "I met your deadline in the desert, didn't I? And that was a hard deadline!"
The darkness was odd, but justifiable. The lack of a lookout was cause for concern. Regardless of when Major Hifumi expected them to make their return, she would be prepared. Iroh frowned and called out to the deck as Zuko tied the Air Lantern off next to the ship. The gangway was down and unmanned. No one answered Iroh's call.
"Is this some idea of a bad surprise?" Zuko grumbled. He jumped off the boat without a second thought.
Iroh quickly followed and pulled Zuko behind him, calling fire to his palm to light the darkened ramp. There were no signs of battle, but that did not ease the tension twisting in his stomach.
"Stay behind me, Prince Zuko. Something isn't right."
Zuko started forward, as if to argue, but then caught sight of Iroh's stern frown. He gulped and nodded, falling into step behind Iroh. Again, there were no signs of bloodshed or anything amiss as they ascended the gangway. The deck was empty.
The clang of running feet on metal floors echoed up from the interior of the ship.
Iroh pushed Zuko directly behind him and assumed a defensive stance. If this was the work of an enemy, they were either crafty or formidable. He was not going to take any chances.
"Zuko, is that you?" A familiar, out of breath voice called out. Iroh relaxed his stance as Seaman Bun Ma raced out on the deck. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders. She wore a haphazard ensemble of her military uniform and the attire she wore while sailing with Zuko. Even in the low light of the moon and Iroh's fire, she had undeniably been crying.
As she caught sight of Zuko stepping around Iroh, she let out a breathless, choked laugh and dropped to the ground. "Shit. Were you really supposed to come back today?"
Zuko scoffed and crouched next to his friend. "What in Koh's name are you all up to? Is everyone drunk or something? I can't believe Major Hifumi would allow this sort of conduct."
"Oh no, she definitely wouldn't," Bun Ma said, voice wavering as if she were about to burst into laughter or tears. "But- she's not here."
Iroh stepped forward, mind racing to make sense of this situation. There was no good reason for a woman like Major Hifumi leaving her post.
"Well, where is she?" Zuko demanded, looking around the empty deck with a deep frown. "And what's wrong with you? Have you been drinking?"
"No, well, maybe some. Earlier. But-" Bun Ma swallowed roughly. She grabbed Zuko's hands and held them between her own. "I'm sorry. She wanted to stop it. All of them did. But- It came from too far above. There was nothing we could do- and-"
The tears that escaped his friend's eyes left Zuko speechless. Iroh stepped forward, mind filling in the blanks while desperately hoping he was wrong.
"What did Major Hifumi want to stop, dear?"
Bun Ma squeezed her eyes shut and let out a wet laugh. "Captain Asshole showed up a couple of days ago with orders from Commander Genkei, backed by the generals."
"Orders for what, Bun Ma?" Zuko asked through clenched teeth.
She slowly opened her eyes and met Zuko's gaze with a sorrowful smile.
"Zhao got the crew reassigned."
Iroh froze as his nephew's breath caught. Oh no, this was the last thing Iroh would have wanted to slow Zuko's journey to the poles. He would gladly accompany Zuko north this very moment to stop this from being true.
"What are you saying?" Zuko whispered.
"They're not here anymore," Bun Ma said with a helpless laugh. "Zuko, the crew, our friends, they're gone."