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Chapter Text

This is my OC dragon. His name is Shadow Sprain. He's the Night Fury that will accompany Zuko in the future.

He's one of few Night Furies that Grimmel has missed, and Hiccup has not found (Better luck next time, Dragon Master)

The Reason he has some blue markings is because he was born that way. Other Night Furies distanced them selves from him, but his mother was the only one that he ever counted on.



And I have nothing else to explain about him, so enjoy the story.

Chapter Text

The young fire prince prepares for his duel against the general he had spoken up against. Zuko looks at himself in the mirror, confident he’ll defeat General Li, and show him the wrongs of using the lives of loyal Fire Nation soldiers like they’re nothing. Soon, Zuko turns to his back, as he hears a knock on the door of his room. “Enter” He grants. Then his Uncle, the Dragon of the West, Iroh, enters with a look of worry on his face.

“I thought I told you not to speak up in there.” He began. “You realise that what you did was a cause of utter disrespect in your own father’s war room.” Iroh informs his nephew.

Zuko closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You don’t understand, he wanted to use those men like mice luring a hungry cat, for it to devour them.” He turns from his uncle to the mirror. “Those soldiers have been loyal to the Fire Nation, they’ve fought hard for it. And as payback, they’re used as a distraction?”

Iroh places his hand on Zuko’s shoulder. “And while I agree with you, it was still not your place to speak up against the General like that.”

“Trust me,” The prince shrugs his uncle’s hand off. “I know what I’m doing.” Zuko faces his uncle. “It’s General Li I’m going against, what could go wrong?”

“Zuko…” Iroh gives a deep sigh, knowing there were so many wrong things in that sentence. “It’s not going to be-”

Iroh gets interrupted mid sentence as another knock was heard from Zuko’s door. “Prince Zuko,” A voice began “The Agni Kai is about to start.” “Thank you” He responded.

Iroh’s nephew turned his head to him. “We’ll finish this later.” Said Zuko. “I promise you, I’ll handle this”. Zuko soon walked out the door, while Iroh stayed in there, remaining worried. He knew that Zuko’s opponent is not who he personally thinks he is. “I hope you will.” The elder Dragon of the West said like he was talking to his nephew, even if he wasn’t there.

The noise of the crowd was blocked out by Zuko, as he was focused on his fight today. Only four words were on his mind ‘I can do this’. He remembered his training, and grew even more confident about winning against that General. He waited until the announcer said-

“Rise!”

The prince and his opponent rised up and faced each other, yet as the clokes fell from both of their shoulders, Zuko grew surprised, and his confidence was overcome by fear after he saw his opponent was not General Li, but instead his own father.  “No…” he breathed out.

As soon as the gong rang aloud, Ozai began to march towards Zuko, yet the prince was too stunned to do anything. “Please father,” He pleaded “I only had the Fire Nation’s best interest at heart! I’m sorry I spoke out of turn!” However, Ozai cared not for any of his son’s apologies. “You will fight for your honor.”

“I meant you no disrespect!” Zuko bowed on his knees, and began to tear up. “I am your loyal son!”

Ozai grew more impatient as his so-called loyal son was not fighting back in their Agni Kai. “Rise and fight, Prince Zuko!” He ordered.

“I won’t fight you.” Zuko was still on his knees, and he turned his head up to face Ozai, who stopped in his steps once he got close enough. “You will learn respect,” Ozai has had enough of his son’s weakness, so he sets his right hand on fire.

“And suffering will be your teacher!”

Iroh stands from the crowd while standing next to his niece, Azula. He watches as Ozai quit marching when he got close to Zuko. “You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!” Ozai says as he sets his hand on fire.

Iroh wishes he could step up and save his nephew from his brother, but he’s aware that he cannot intervene in an Agni Kai. So he closes his eyes and looks away. Then…

The sound of Zuko’s painful screams and flesh burning in Ozai’s hand rang through his ears, along with some delighted cheers and a few horrified gasps from the rest of the crowd.

By the time the screaming finished, Iroh looked up and saw his nephew laying on the ground knocked out, and half of his face had been burned. It felt like a whip slashing Iroh’s chest, he never wanted for Zuko to get hurt, much less have a burn that will turn into a scar.

Azula, standing beside him, watched with a smirk, though Iroh noticed how her eyes flickered with something beneath the amusement. Was it surprise? Hesitation? If it was, she buried it quickly, her sharp grin returning as she leaned toward him.

“Father was right,” she whispered, her tone almost teasing. “Zuzu was weak.”

Iroh barely turned to acknowledge her words, but the disappointment on his face was clear.

“How pathetic,” Ozai started to speak. “To even call you my son sickens me!” He spoke to the unconscious Zuko. Ozai turned his back on the fallen prince, raising his voice so that all could hear. "Let this be a lesson to all who dare question my judgment! There is no room for weakness, or disrespect in my army!"

The cheers of the loyalists rang through the arena, but Iroh heard none of it. His focus was on Zuko, the boy who still had so much to learn, who still believed in honor and loyalty, even to those who would never show him the same.

Two attendants rushed forward, carefully lifting Zuko’s unconscious form. Iroh finally moved, stepping down from the stands, entering the arena, and making his way toward them. "Take him to the healers immediately," he ordered, his voice firm yet tinged with grief.

Ozai turned slightly, his expression cold. "Do not coddle him, Iroh," he warned. "He has made his choice. Let him suffer the consequences."

“No, let me suffer the consequences.” Iroh said with sadness. “I let him into the war room. Punish me, not him.”

“Oh I already have a plan for you.” Ozai's eyes burned with ruthless resolve. “You will be kept under surveillance for the time being. As for Prince Zuko, he’s no longer a prince.” His voice cut like a knife tearing through the skin. “He is hereby Banished!”

Zuko’s unconscious body laid on the bed in a healer’s room, with the left half on his face bandaged up after what just occurred. Meanwhile, Iroh sits across from his nephew. He couldn’t help but feel guilt. He should’ve saved him from any harm while he had the chance. Sure it would’ve costed him his honor, but to him his family was more important than a core value. However, it was too late.

The dragon of the West sighed sadly. “I’m sorry Prince Zuko. I should’ve been there” He places his hand on the unscarred side of his face.

The door creaked open, and a Fire Nation attendant stepped inside, bowing deeply. “I’m sorry sir,” She began her statement “But I regret that you must leave, we have a schedule.”

Iroh nodded “That’s fine. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He looked back at the former prince. His nephew—just a boy, barely more than a child—was being sent away to wander the world alone.

Iroh stood up and walked out the door, with tears in his eyes. The attendant understood his sympathies. She would cry like that too if that was her nephew or son. Unfortunately, unknown to Iroh.

She was just doing her job.

And she had completed the first part of it.

Chapter Text

A day after the Agni Kai, the morning sun slowly passes over the kingdom of the Fire Nation. Iroh walks through the streets in hopes Zuko is feeling better than he should. Today was the day he should’ve woken up. The day his nephew would learn that everything he once knew his title, his home, his place in the Fire Nation—was gone.

Iroh sighed heavily as he reached the door to Zuko’s chamber, bracing himself for what was to come. He knew the weight of his nephew’s burden, and though he wished he could bear it for him, fate had been unkind. With a soft knock, he entered.

However, as he entered the room, he gasped in horror. The boy was not there! Where did he go?

Iroh searched everywhere for a sign. Footprints, a trail of food, and hopefully a note. Yet he found nothing. Panic began to grow inside him. Where could the banished prince of the Fire Nation have gone?

Then Iroh just remembered, he was banished. He must have woken up and already found out.

Yet Iroh was not going to let him go so easily. He promised himself that he would not let his nephew wander in the world by himself. He promised that he would follow him to the ends of the Earth.

The Dragon of the West knew what he had to do, he needed to search for Zuko. He must find him, even if the Fire Lord didn’t approve—

He’ll still do it without his permission.

Light slowly shines in the darkness. Zuko’s eye fluttered open, while his left eye was still covered up. The prince sat up, and groaned while rubbing his head. He took in his surroundings and found himself…

On a beach?

What in Sozin’s name was he doing on a beach? “How did I…” Zuko breathed out. His focus shifted from his confusion to the small pain on his face. Zuko reached up and gingerly touched the bandages covering the left side of his face. Even through the cloth, he could feel the rawness of his burned skin. A sharp sting shot through his nerves, making him wince. His memories were still foggy, but flashes of the Agni Kai came back—the heat, his father’s cruel gaze, the searing pain, and then… darkness.

But none of that explained where he was now.

He struggled to his feet, his legs shaky beneath him. The waves lapped at the shore, their steady rhythm the only sound aside from the distant call of birds.

He looked around, trying to find any familiar faces. “Uncle Iroh?” He called out. “Father? Azula? Is anyone here?” Zuko searched all around, but nothing. No response, other than the sound of the water splashing onto shore.

He took a step forward, and he felt something under his foot. Zuko knelt down, and started to dig, and shortly he dug up something that looked like it was wrapped up in paper. Zuko unwrapped the paper hastily, his hands trembling slightly from both the lingering pain of his wound and the unfamiliar sense of vulnerability washing over him. 

As soon as he finishes, he finds a small knife, and he notices something written on the paper. It’s a note.

He begins to read

Prince Zuko

By the word of Fire Lord Ozai

Since you’ve shown weakness, you have been banished from our Nation.

You are unworthy of the Fire Nation, and your presence will not be tolerated.

Your Uncle, The Dragon of the West won’t help you this time.

Be glad we gave you a little something for your exile.

Good luck on trying to survive…

If you can…

Perhaps you will learn the meaning of strength.

Zuko’s breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun. His father—no, Ozai—had cast him out like he was nothing.

“No…” His voice laced in shock. “No, no, no, no, No!” He started to rip the note into pieces, and threw them, which the wind helped carry out to sea. He wanted to scream. To curse the Fire Nation, his father, even his uncle. But his throat was dry, and his body was weak.

Food

He needed food, but he didn’t know where to find it—Or did he?

The boy turned his body to the forest behind him. Zuko took deep, steady breaths. Hopefully there’s something in that stock of trees that will fill his stomach.

Zuko looked down on the knife he was left with, only a reminder of what he is. A banished prince with no honor. A son who was scarred by his father for his weakness. He tried to not care for that, until his stomach growled. Zuko remembered his current goal: find food.

Zuko gripped the small knife tightly in his hand as he made his way toward the treeline. The lush forest before him was dense, filled with towering trees and thick foliage that cast long shadows. The leaves rustled slightly in the warm breeze, the sound almost eerie in the quiet isolation of the island.

“You wish to have hold a ship, and sail along with a crew?”

Iroh stood tall in front of his brother, as he stood in the Fire Lord’s Throne Room. “Yes, my lord.” He responds.

“Interesting.” Ozai rubbed his chin. “Yet what for?” The question asked by the Fire Lord. He knew something was up. Why would Iroh wish for a ship without reason?

“I need to search for something important.” Iroh remained calm, adding a tone of truth into his lie.

Ozai’s suspicion grew even stronger. He asks Iroh “And what is this important thing?” His voice boomed out.

“It’s something I have to find as soon as possible.” Replied the Dragon of the West. “I must get to hi- It before it becomes lost.”

Then a moment of silence passed. The Fire Lord glared at his sibling. Iroh kept his stand. If Ozai found out what Iroh was talking about, he would not give him what he requested. But that won’t stop him from searching for Zuko. Neither of them spoke a word, until Ozai decided to break the silence.

“You always did have a tendency to chase ghosts, brother,” Ozai spoke. “You say what you search for is important for the future of the Fire Nation. However, I deny your request.”

Iroh clenched his jaw, though he remained composed. He had expected this outcome, but it didn’t make the rejection sting any less. He had to think of another way. He bowed respectfully, hiding the turmoil bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

"As you wish, Fire Lord," he said evenly, before turning on his heel and walking away.

“Remember, brother” Ozai called out to him “I have got my eyes on you.” The Fire Lord reminded him.

Iroh remembers that Ozai had him placed under surveillance after that Agni Kai. He needed another plan—one that didn’t involve his brother’s permission, or his knowledge.

Zuko navigated carefully through the forest, gripping the knife tightly in his hand. His movements were stiff, his body still sore from the burn and from lying unconscious for who knows how long. And his left side of his face still bandaged up. He stepped cautiously over tangled roots and thick underbrush, his stomach tightening with each passing moment.

Soon he passes a mango tree, with some fresh grown mangoes. Without hesitation, Zuko grabs one and begins to slice it with his knife. The blade wasn’t sharp enough, but it was manageable.

Once he cuts the fruit in half, Zuko quickly takes a bite of the mango, and then another bite, and then another one, and another, and another. Zuko wasted no time when it came to eating that mango, and once he finished, he began to do the same with the other one. Eating one half of the fruit wasn't enough for his belly, so he ate as fast as he could.

Finally, the exiled prince was full. Zuko couldn't help but sit on the tree after replenishing his hunger. But this was just the first part of his new life. No one around, no one to support him. He must do everything himself.

Zuko was about to stand up, but he noticed something on his left, very close to him. He picks it, and it was another mango, but this wasn't any mango. Something had taken a huge bite out of it. The bite looked like it was a day old. Zuko then looks down, and finds a footprint on the ground.

Zuko isn't alone after all.

Chapter Text

A day has already passed. A day on this God forsaken island. A day of not having any sleep after finding out there’s something else that walks on the same ground that Zuko walks on.

Zuko has been walking around all around the island, with his eye still covered up. searching for whatever is even in this place. He’s pretty damn tired, but who could blame him? He had been left for dead on an island with limited resources, and he is thirsty as fuck. Those juices from those mangoes didn’t really help too much.

Zuko’s legs ached from exhaustion, but his mind wouldn’t let him stop. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him. The footprints he had found were large—too large for any human, not to mention they were different from any animal he or anybody has known. And then there was that half-eaten mango. If there was something else living on this island, it was smart enough to find food, and it was big.

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Not too long, a branch snaps behind him. Zuko turns to where his back was facing, trying to locate what made that sound. Without a thought, he started to make his way toward whatever caused that sound, while keeping a tight grip on his knife.

Step, after step, after step, and still nothing. No animal on sight.

Zuko took a slow, steady breath, trying to keep himself calm. The trees around him loomed tall, their branches whispering in the breeze. The silence was unnerving. His grip tightened on the knife as he carefully crept forward, his heart pounding in his chest. Whatever was out there, it was close. He could feel it.

Soon enough, after walking for so long, Zuko comes across something that was in the middle of these woods. “Water…” Zuko spoke in relief. He immediately walked over to the small puddle, dropped to his knees, and picked up a scoopful of water, and began slurping it. Luckily, it was fresh.

Zuko barely paid attention to his surroundings as he drank greedily, letting the cool water soothe his parched throat. He could feel it revitalizing him, washing away some of the exhaustion clouding his mind. But just as he was about to scoop up another handful, something shifted in the trees behind him.

Zuko froze, his hand hovering just above the water. His senses sharpened instantly. He was being watched. Slowly, he turned his head, scanning the treeline, looking for any movement. He saw nothing back there. Zuko knows he’s not losing his mind, because what else could eat a mango besides him?

However, he decides that if he wants to find whatever is on the island with him, he needs to ignore it longer till it shows itself.

The prince in exile, faces back at the puddle, and looks at his reflection. He couldn’t help but look at the bandaged wound on his left eye. Zuko began to unwrap it, and once it was removed, he had the opportunity to see his new makeover, and he looked hideous. Even if he wasn’t banished, nobody in the Fire Nation would look at his face the same way ever again. Before, he was just an ordinary boy with the role of a prince, but now Zuko sees himself as an ugly monster. He’s considered lucky to still even see anything from that eye

Meanwhile behind Zuko, a black skinned, and dark blue marked reptile with its wings folded neatly against its back, watches him as it gets into a position for pouncing. Its blue eyes were intensely focused at his target.

Zuko sighed, and placed the bandage on the ground. He took another scoop of water, and drank it. But as he did, Zuko’s eyes looked back. He knows it’s only a matter of time before his new roommate reveals itself out of the shadows.

The claws of the black reptile dug even deeper to the ground. Its wings start to expand slowly as he’s about to make his move. Its victim seemed to be very distracted, so he readies to strike. And…

One final slurp until Zuko’s thirst is quenched. But it’s not long when he quickly turns his head after hearing a high pitched roar, and sees it’s coming from a black beast jumping at him. Fortunately, Zuko was able to get out of the way, which made the dark creature land in the water. Yet the creature just shook it off and ran after Zuko. In response, Zuko pointed his 2 fingers at it, sending a continuous wave of fire. ‘Yes! I still got it!’ He thought. However, it would seem the creature was fireproof, is what Zuko had found out after being caught in the flames only for it to jump on top of him without any skin burns.

Now Zuko’s throat was in between his claws. His entire body was pulled down by the weight of the winged lizard’s paw. Zuko struggled to release himself from the creature’s grip, and then he saw his knife, not too far from his right. As he tries to grab his knife, he looks back at the creature and stares into its blue eyes. The black beast growls slowly at him, while Zuko does nothing but look in its eyes while attempting to grab hold of his knife.

Not too long, Zuko finally gets his fingers around the grip of his knife, and stabs the leg that was holding him down. The creature roared in pain, and released Zuko, but it swung its head at him, making him roll on the ground, a few feet away.

Zuko sat up from the ground, and looked back at the beast as it roared at him in anger and pain. Next thing he knew, the creature flaps its wings and disappeared as it flew in the trees.

Zuko’s breathing was ragged as he clutched his aching side. He was still in shock—not just from the attack but from what he had seen. That… thing. It wasn’t just any animal. It was powerful, intelligent… and most of all, it wasn’t scared of him. Firebending had done nothing, and that realization gnawed at him. Next time that thing returns, his flames will be a walk on the grass for it.

Zuko exhaled sharply and got to his feet, rubbing his sore throat where the creature’s claws had pressed down. His thoughts briefly wandered back to the Fire Nation. Zuko asked his thoughts out loud. “Did the people who dropped me know that thing was here?”

That question hung in the air, the only response was the rustling of the trees and the distant crash of waves. Zuko’s mind raced. If the Fire Nation had known about the creature, then this exile was worse than he thought. They hadn’t just left him to survive alone—they had left him to die.

He reached for his knife, wiping the blood from its edge. The wound he had inflicted on the beast hadn’t been deep, but it had been enough to drive it off—for now. But if it came back? Next time, it wouldn’t hold back.

A gust of wind rustled the trees. Zuko’s instincts told him to move. He had to get out of the open. He walked into the forest, keeping his knife close, his senses sharp. Every step he took was cautious, his eyes darting between the dense foliage, searching for any sign of the creature’s return. His breath came steady, but his heart pounded in his chest. He wasn’t just fighting for survival now—he was fighting against something far more dangerous than he had imagined.

Dusk is setting, and Zuko had finished his last mango. The former prince released a deep sigh. It’s been a few hours since that encounter. 

He had managed to find a safer spot—a small, naturally sheltered area beneath the twisted roots of a massive tree. It wasn’t much, but it provided some cover from the elements and a vantage point to keep an eye on his surroundings. His knife rested in his lap as he sat against the trunk, his body aching from exhaustion.

Zuko exhaled, staring into the distance. The night was creeping in, casting long shadows over the island. He needed to stay alert, but his body was screaming for rest. He was no stranger to pain, to suffering, and his face is proof of it.

He glanced at his knife. It was small, barely more than a tool for cutting fruit, yet it had saved his life today. He needed something better—something that could actually protect him. A spear, maybe? Or a bow? How in Agni’s name would he make a bow? Then he remembered when his uncle had once told him that a good warrior knew how to adapt, to use his surroundings. Zuko had never had to live off the land before, but he would learn.

Soon, a rustle in the trees made him freeze. His eyes snapped up to the treetops, his heart thudding against his ribs. Was it the creature? He strained his ears, waiting for another sound. Next was a pained grunt.

Zuko stood up, and began to follow the source of the sound. Not too long, he found that exact creature he found. Zuko immediately hid behind a large tree, and the creature did not notice. One thing to notice, however, was the creature was attempting to step its left front paw. When it did, it gave another grunt, filled with pain, since that was the wounded leg.

Zuko watched from behind the tree, his eyes locked onto the injured creature. It was struggling, limping on its wounded leg, the same leg he had stabbed earlier. His first instinct was to take the knife, and end it. ‘Pierce it through the heart!’ His mind told him.

But something made him hesitate.

‘Why? Is it because this is another living being? No! Strike now, before it could attack again. It was wounded. Vulnerable. Weak.’

​​And yet, he didn’t move.

Instead, he found himself lowering the knife just slightly, his jaw clenching as he watched the creature struggle. The memory of his father’s burning hand flashed in his mind—the agony, the helplessness. He knew what it was like to be at someone’s mercy. To be broken and left to suffer.

Using this advantage might be the way of the Fire Nation. Yet Zuko remembered, he’s prince of that nation no longer.

Soon the beast, layed on the ground, making a soft moan. It was trying to get comfortable, but its injured leg made it difficult. 

Feeling bad enough, Zuko exited his hiding position, and stepped forward, cautiously. The creature's breathing was labored, its chest rising and falling steadily but weakly. Its blue eyes were half-lidded, watching him warily, but too tired to react. But not too tired to growl.

 “I won’t hurt you, for now.” Zuko assured, yet the dark reptile is either not understanding, or not trusting.

Soon as he gets close enough, Zuko crouches. “You could have killed me,” He began. “But you didn’t. Why?” That was the question he finally got out of his mind.

The only answer he got was the creature showing his teeth, meaning he's still defensive, even at this state.

Zuko sighed, gripping his knife tightly. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting—words? A response? This thing clearly wasn’t just an animal, but it was still dangerous. And yet, despite everything, he didn’t feel the same fear he had earlier.

After Zuko sat on his knees, he used his knife to cut out his sleeve from his robe. And then, he wrapped it around the creature's leg, as it winced in pain. “There. Now it won’t bleed out as much.” Zuko said after he finished.

It did nothing but sniff the makeshift bandage around its wounded leg. The creature’s glowing blue eyes locked onto Zuko’s own, scrutinizing him with suspicion, as if trying to understand why the human who had stabbed it earlier was now tending to its injury.

Zuko wasn’t sure why he was doing this either. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was something else. He had been raised in a world where strength was everything, where you showed no mercy to your enemies. And yet, sitting here now, tending to this creature—his supposed enemy—he felt something different.

“You can thank me later.” Zuko stood up and began to walk away from the creature, as it watched with uncertainty.

Zuko returned to his spot under the tree, and sat against it. He spared the thing that almost killed him earlier. He didn’t care why he did it, all he cared about was getting sleep. As soon as he closes his eyes, they open again after he hears more leaves rustling. He turned to his left and glared at the creature, who was now curled up beneath the massive tree’s roots as if it belonged there. The Night Fury—he didn’t know its name, but that’s what it seemed like to him—rested its head on its front claws, its blue eyes narrowing slightly as it looked up at him. Even with its injury, it seemed completely unbothered by the fact that Zuko was standing right there, arms crossed, clearly irritated.

“Oh no,” Zuko muttered, shaking his head. “No way am I letting you stay here.”

The creature let out a low, rumbling growl—almost like a cat being woken up from a nap.

“Fine.” He grumbled in defeat. Zuko scooted a little bit farther, not trusting this thing. “Just don’t try anything in my sleep.”

For a response, was a slight snore from the Night Fury.

It was already sleeping.

Just as he let a yawn release, Zuko closed his eyes, laid back comfortably on the tree, and then he let sleep overtake him.

Chapter Text

Next morning, Zuko stirred awake, his body shifting uncomfortably against the tree trunk. His body was sore from sleeping on something that’s not a bed. He blinked numerous times before he stood and stretched his entire body.

Zuko then remembered the massive black creature that laid next to him. He turned his head, and found it still in a deep slumber. It didn’t even attempt to kill him in his sleep. As much as he wanted to puzzle why it didn’t try to take his life, he just wanted to start the day off.

He grabbed his knife, and turned to the tree behind him. Zuko began to carve a line on the tree with his blade, and carved another one to mark how many days had passed since he was stranded. Only 2 lines for 2 days.

Zuko then walked away from the tree, leaving the dark colored reptile sleeping. As he made his way, not too far from the tree, he stopped in his steps and looked at the sun as it had already risen, he decided he needed a compass. Zuko wasted no time when it came to gathering stones to point his direction. 2 for North, 3 for East, 4 for South, and 5 for West.

When he finished, Zuko heard a low groan behind him, so he turned to the direction of his back and saw the creature starting to wake up. As soon as it did, it gave out a loud yawn. Next thing it did, it got on all fours, and began walking to Zuko’s right, which is on the west. That’s the direction of the puddle where they had their first encounter.

Even without a second thought, Zuko began to follow it. In less than 30 seconds, Zuko located the creature again by the puddle, where it was drinking water. The creature quit licking the water as its head turned to face Zuko. With a low growl, it went back to continue its drink.

Zuko’s eyes narrowed at the thing, then he turned to the opposite direction and walked away. Later he ends up back on the beach. Zuko sits on the sandy ground, and stares into the horizon. By just looking at it, it reminds him that he’s a long way from home. And speaking of reminders, Zuko lifts his hand, and his fingers intertwined with his burned face. It’s also another reminder of who he is, a banished prince, sent to survive.

Soon, Zuko hears some noise behind him. He turns his head to the sound of branches snapping, but this is not like before. It’s like something is running. Not even a second later, the black creature appears rushing towards him. Zuko’s eyes widened, and he didn’t even think, he just tried to lay low on the ground. Then the creature jumped above him, and flapped its wings to ascend into the sky.

It can fly?!

No, of course it can. It has wings for Angi’s sake!

Zuko watched in awe as the creature soared into the sky, its powerful wings propelling it higher and higher.

The winged creature glided over the ocean. Its eyes narrowed like it was scanning the water. It circled around for a few seconds, its eyes then widened as if it found its target. Soon it spun around, it closes its wings, and it dives down into the sea.

Zuko watched the entire experience. Where did it go? Zuko tried to locate it. One minute it’s in the sky, and then the next it disappears into the ocean.

As Zuko tried to find the creature, close to chore, the creature reappears and jumps on the beach, and brings along two big fishes. The creature shakes the water off its entire body, and it looks at one of the flapping fishes. Without hesitation, it takes the fish into its mouth, and swallows it whole.

Zuko watched as the animal finished its meal. He turns as it licks its lips.

Just before Zuko was about to enter back into the woods, something smacks him on the back of his head. He exclaimed before turning around again to figure out what hit him, and he looked to the ground to find the other fish, flapping weakly. Zuko looked back at the reptile who gave a smug look, but his anger had risen, so he grabbed the fish that was now dead by its gills, and he was about to toss it back at the creature’s face, but then next thing he knew, that thing was already gone.

Zuko had no idea what to do now. Right now he had a fish in his hands. Wait! A fish in his hands… He looked down on the fish that was laying in his fingers. That sparked an idea in his mind.

---

Later, After Zuko cut the fish, and removed the bones and organs from it, he heated up his hands and placed the fish between his palms. Never in his life did he think he would use himself as a pan. He kept the fish in his hands until it fully cooked.

Zuko sat down on a nearby palm tree, and soon took his first bite. The fish tasted bland, however Zuko didn’t care for the taste. It was surely better than eating nothing but mangos for 2 days straight. Zuko took another bite, but he stopped mid-chew. His eyes looked right as if he was trying to look at something behind him. Not too long, Zuko swallowed the piece of fish he had in his mouth.

“I know you’re there.” Zuko finally spoke. “You don’t have to sneak up behind me. You can come out.”

For a few moments, there was only silence. Then a few footsteps can be heard from behind Zuko. And then the creature finally emerged from the back of the tree, appearing in Zuko’s line of sight.

It growled as Zuko and it both stared at each other, not making any sudden movements. Then Zuko took another bite from his fish. He chewed for a few seconds before swallowing.

“I know that if you wanted to kill me, you would’ve tried something by now.” Zuko said. In response, the creature laid on its belly, still staring at the Firebender.

Zuko glanced at the creature, its massive form now resting calmly on the forest floor just a few feet from him. Its wings were tucked close to its body, and those glowing blue eyes never left his face. He took another bite of his fish, chewing slowly while still watching it.      

“I’m not scared of you,” Zuko added, his voice low but steady. “Okay, maybe I was—at first. But now?” He shrugged. “I’ve faced worse.”      

The Night Fury blinked once, then slowly tilted its head, as if it were listening. Curious. Calculating.      

Zuko finished his fish, licking the last bits of it off his fingers before tossing the bones into the trees. He leaned back against the palm tree, letting out a slow breath. “You saved me a trip to the beach, at least,” he muttered. “I guess that’s your way of saying thanks for the bandage?”      

The dragon-like creature snorted softly, and to Zuko’s surprise, its ears twitched and it let out a low chuff—something between a grunt and a purr. Zuko stared for a moment.      

“…You do understand me,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anything.      

The Night Fury didn’t answer, obviously, but something had shifted. The tension between them—once thick as wildfire smoke—was slowly fading.      

Zuko sat forward. “What are you, anyway?” he asked. “You’re nothing like I’ve seen before. Not in the Fire Nation, not in any scrolls. Are you some kind of spirit beast?” He narrowed his eyes, remembering tales Iroh once told him about beasts that disappeared into the mist, and monsters that watched from the shadows. “Or did they just send me here to die by your claws?”      

The Night Fury blinked again, but made no move.      

Zuko reached over to grab a broken stick and began to draw in the dirt. A crude outline of the island. Then, he marked a circle for the beach, the puddle, the mango trees… and finally, he drew a clumsy version of the creature. He tapped it with the stick. “This is you.”      

The creature looked at the drawing, then glanced at Zuko. It rose slightly, taking a few steps forward, and to Zuko’s astonishment, it sat just across from him and poked the stick drawing with its claw. Not aggressively—almost gently.      

Zuko blinked. “Okay… That was kinda amazing.”      

The creature gave a low rumble again, not hostile, not threatening. Zuko dared to scoot just an inch closer. “I’m Zuko,” he said finally. “Former prince of the Fire Nation. Banished. Disgraced. Left to rot here, apparently.”      

He wasn’t sure why he said that. Maybe it was because there was no one else to talk to. Maybe it was because this thing—whatever it was—was the closest thing he had to a companion now.      

“And you,” Zuko continued, “need a name.”      

The dark creature tilted its head again.      

Zuko tapped his chin. “You’re fast… you can fly… you’re silent when you want to be, but loud when you don’t. Hmm…”      

He thought about calling it Shadow, but that felt too simple. Stormclaw? Too dramatic. Then his eyes drifted toward the sky, where a faint cloud crossed the sun. Darkflame? That made no sense—it didn’t breathe fire.      

Zuko sighed. “Okay, I’m not good at naming things.”      

The animal chuffed, almost like a snicker.      

Zuko pointed at it. “Don’t laugh at me.”      

The creature only blinked again.      

He crossed his arms. “Fine. I guess you'll be… Shadow Sprain."      

Zuko groaned as the name left his mouth. Shadow Sprain. It sounded dumb—like something Azula would mock him for relentlessly. But the moment it was said aloud, the creature’s ears perked up.      

“You like that?” Zuko asked, raising an eyebrow. The creature—Shadow Sprain, apparently—gave a low, questioning growl, then slowly nodded its head.    

Zuko let out a breath and leaned back. “Great. Now I’ve named the creature that nearly killed me. What's next, allying with the water tribe?" He muttered to himself before standing up. "Well thanks for the hospitality, Shadow Sprain. But I have my own things to worry about, and I'm pretty sure you do too."    

Zuko turned away, brushing off the dust from his pants and grabbing his knife once again. As far as he was concerned, naming the creature was a temporary lapse in judgment. He didn’t need a companion. He needed a plan. A way off this island. A way to restore his honor.    

But as he began walking back toward the forest’s edge, he heard something behind him—padded footsteps, soft but steady. He paused. “You’re following me now?” he called out without turning.    

A low huff answered him.    

Zuko stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around.    

There, not more than a few feet behind him, stood Shadow Sprain—head slightly tilted, wings tucked in, eyes fixed on Zuko like a curious cat who wasn’t done playing. The great black creature let out a soft huff, not threatening, but insistent.    

Zuko crossed his arms. “I thought we had an understanding. I don’t need a shadow. Or a bodyguard.”    

The Night Fury only blinked slowly and took one step closer.    

Zuko squinted at him, then turned again, walking deeper into the forest.    

Crunch. Crunch.    

The footsteps followed.    

“Oh, come on!” Zuko spun again. “Do you seriously have nothing better to do than trail after a banished prince with nothing but a knife and daddy issues?!”    

Shadow Sprain tilted his head the other way.    

Zuko let out a frustrated groan and rubbed his temples. “Fine. You want to follow me? Go ahead. But don’t expect me to let myself become food for your own loathsome."

Zuko trudged through the underbrush with Shadow Sprain trailing silently behind him like a black-scaled shadow. Despite the odd companionship forming between them, Zuko kept his eyes forward. He didn’t want to admit it, but the beast’s presence was… comforting. Not that he’d say that out loud.

The day was humid, and the island's dense jungle made progress slow. Zuko had been trying to get a better view of the landscape—find a high vantage point, maybe even glimpse a passing ship if he was lucky. But every peak he climbed so far only gave him more trees, more endless green.

"Dear Agni, this is just leading to more dead ends." He muttered.

Shadow Sprain warbled behind him, as he curled on the ground, wings folded like a cloaked sentinel.

For a long moment, there was only silence between them, the faint breeze rustling the leaves overhead.

“You remind me a lot of a dragon,” he said again, this time more to himself. “Why?”

Shadow Sprain made a soft clicking noise from the back of his throat and turned his head sideways at Zuko’s question, like he was genuinely trying to understand it too. The dragon-like creature shifted his weight, tail swishing gently behind him in the dirt.

Zuko sighed and dropped down onto a smooth boulder nearby. He let the knife fall loosely at his side. “Uncle told me stories about the dragons. Said they were majestic… wise… powerful. The original firebenders. I always wanted to see one.”

Shadow Sprain snorted softly and padded a bit closer, curious but still cautious.

Zuko stared up at the sky through the canopy, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. “But they’re all gone. Hunted to extinction. By my people.”

He paused.

“…By my own family. My legacy.”

The creature let out a low rumble, almost like a growl but softer—more like a purr laced with static. It didn’t sound angry. Just... sad. Like it understood.

Zuko ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I was raised to believe honor was earned through power. Through conquest. But lately…” He gestured to the jungle, to the trees, to the sky. “I don’t even know what honor means anymore.”

Shadow Sprain took another step forward, then another. Soon he was standing right next to Zuko, his shoulder almost brushing against the prince’s knee. The beast lowered his head, resting it on the cool dirt beside Zuko, eyes half-lidded in what could only be described as a rare show of trust.

Zuko blinked, looking down at him.

“You… you’re staying?” he asked.

No response. Just a heavy breath through flared nostrils. The Night Fury’s eyes slowly closed.

Zuko sat there in stunned silence for a moment. Then, carefully, cautiously, he reached out a hand. He didn’t even know why—instinct maybe. And after a beat of hesitation, he laid it gently on Shadow Sprain’s neck, just behind the curve of his horned head.

Warm.

Smooth.

Alive.

Shadow didn't didn’t flinch.

Zuko’s eyes softened. For the first time in days, maybe longer, the tightness in his chest eased just slightly.

Maybe he wasn’t alone after all.

Chapter Text

Back in the Fire Nation…

The night was late.

The moon hung high over the volcanic peaks of the Fire Nation, casting a pale silver glow over the capital city. The streets were mostly quiet, save for the occasional clink of armor as patrols passed through, their torches casting flickering shadows across the crimson-tiled rooftops.

In the streets, cloaked in shadows, a lone figure moved with purpose. General Iroh—though stripped of any command for now—walked silently along the edge of the harbor, hood drawn up, eyes scanning the dark silhouettes of docked ships. He had evaded the night patrols, ducking down alleys and moving with the grace of someone who had once led armies through enemy territory.

He ducked into a nearby tea shop, one of the few still open near the docks. Inside, the warm light flickered gently off the worn wooden walls. A few rugged-looking sailors and off-duty guards sat around tables, sipping steaming cups and throwing dice.

He took a glance around, and saw a man—A fire nation soldier off of duty, playing Pai Sho alone. But he was not just playing, he looked like he was struggling to understand the game.

Yet Iroh told himself something he hoped he would never speak in his mind—

‘Don’t get distracted.’

He’s disobeying the Fire Lord by getting himself in a mission he assigned himself in. And that mission is to find Zuko. But in order to do that, he needs a crew.

But… One game of Pai Sho couldn’t hurt, right?

Iroh stood still for a long moment at the entrance of the shop, torn between duty and the comforting familiarity of Pai Sho. The scent of roasted tea leaves and old wood lingered in the air, and the subtle clack of the tiles on the table beckoned like an old friend calling from across a battlefield.  

With a resigned sigh and a faint smile tugging at his lips, he walked over to the man fumbling with the Pai Sho board.  

"First time?" Iroh asked casually as he pulled out the chair opposite the man.  

"Oh no, my second and possibly last." The soldier confirmed.  

Iroh chuckled softly and sat down. "Ah, well then, you're already wiser than most beginners. Most lose three times before they realize they’re playing it all wrong."  

The soldier looked up, startled, then shrugged sheepishly. “I don’t know why I keep trying. My old squad leader used to say Pai Sho reveals the soul of a man… but mine must be upside down.”  

Iroh reached for the tiles, gently adjusting their positions. “Sometimes it just takes a little guidance. The game, like life, is about balance, not control.” His fingers moved deftly, rearranging the soldier’s scattered pieces into a more coherent pattern. “Tell me, have I caught your name?"  

"Lieutenant Jee." The soldier—now identified as Lieutenant Jee—answered. "I run the crew of the 41st division. What about you, old man?"  

Iroh smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Just a humble lover of tea and Pai Sho,” he replied. “Though some call me Iroh.”  

Jee’s eyebrows lifted in recognition, his casual posture straightening. “Wait—General Iroh? The Dragon of the West?”  

Iroh gave a soft chuckle and waved his hand dismissively. “Former general. And presently, just a man looking for something… someone.”  

Jee’s eyes narrowed. He lowered his voice. “You're not here on official business, are you?”  

Iroh leaned forward slightly, his tone matching Jee’s. “Let’s say I’m acting under personal conviction, not orders. My nephew… Prince Zuko, has been cast out. I intend to find him before the Fire Lord’s cruelty finishes what it started.”  

Jee looked around the tea shop, making sure no one was listening. The patrons were too drunk or distracted to care. “Yeah good luck with that. From what I heard, the prince is presumed dead after his banishment."  

Iroh’s face tightened at those words, though he kept his expression calm. “Presumed by whom?” he asked, his voice quiet, measured.  

Jee hesitated. “Word spreads quickly in back channels. It was said that the prince wandered miles, and because of his lack of experience, his story was cut then and there."  

ee’s words hit Iroh like a cold gust of wind through the warm haze of the tea shop. He stared into his cup for a long moment, steam curling between his fingers. The idea that Zuko might already be gone—that his journey had ended in silence and solitude—was a thought he could not bear.  

But he would not allow it to be true.  

“He’s not dead,” Iroh said at last, his voice firm as steel beneath silk. “He’s too stubborn to die.”  

Jee looked him over again, eyes sharp now. “You really believe that?”  

“I know it.”  

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the distant clatter of dice at another table. Finally, Jee leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.  

“So. If it's a crew you want, a crew you now have."  

Iroh looked up from his tea, surprise softening his brow. “That quickly?”  

Lieutenant Jee gave a small shrug, glancing at the worn shoulder pad of his uniform. “I served under your command once during the Siege of Ba Sing Se, remember? You led us through the Lower Ring and kept us breathing when we should’ve been corpses. If you ask for a ship and crew, you’ll have it—no questions asked.”  

The former general allowed himself a quiet, grateful smile. “Then you have my thanks, Lieutenant Jee. And my respect.”  

Jee leaned in slightly. “But if we’re going to do this, we have to be careful. If the Fire Lord finds out you're assembling a crew to search for his banished son…”  

“He won’t,” Iroh said simply. “Because no one will report it.”  

Jee raised an eyebrow. “You’re very confident.”  

“I’m very old,” Iroh replied dryly. “Old enough to know how to move unseen—even in the heart of my brother’s empire.”  

Jee smirked, then stood. “My ship—the Wandering Flame—is docked just west of here. She’s not the fastest vessel in the fleet, but she’s reliable. My men trust me, and if I tell them we’re running a supply operation to isolated colonies… they’ll follow. No questions asked.”  

“Good,” Iroh said, rising from his chair. He left a few coins on the table for the tea. “I must grab scrolls and maps. We leave as soon as possible."  

---  

The harbor was quieter than usual as a thick fog began to roll in from the sea, cloaking the docks in a veil of gray mist. Lanterns swung softly on wooden posts, their flickering light casting long, wavering shadows. Iroh stood near the edge of the water, his cloak drawn tight against the chill air. Beside him stood Lieutenant Jee, who gestured toward a medium-sized vessel docked discreetly at the far end.  

“There she is,” Jee said. “The Wandering Flame. She’s not pretty, but she’ll get us where we need to go.”  

Iroh gave a slow, approving nod. The ship was modest, but sturdy. More importantly, it looked unimportant—perfect for slipping away without drawing attention.  

"Uncle!"  

Iroh gets startled by the very recognizable voice.  

He turned, eyes wide in disbelief.  

Standing just beyond the lantern’s flickering edge was a young woman cloaked in deep crimson and gold—hair tied in a tight bun, posture sharp and defiant as ever.  

“Azula?” Iroh said, surprised but guarded. “What are you doing here?”  

Azula stepped forward, arms crossed, golden eyes gleaming. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice my uncle sneaking around the capital? You forget what father teaches me.”  

Iroh’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been spying on me.”  

“I’ve been watching,” Azula corrected, her voice cool and precise. “You also forget that father placed you under a close eye for a reason. I'm not stupid uncle."  

Jee instinctively placed a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword, but Iroh gently raised a hand, signaling him to stand down.  

Azula’s gaze flicked to Jee, sharp and dismissive. “Lieutenant. Still clinging to failed generals, are we?”  

Jee stiffened but said nothing. Iroh stepped forward calmly. “Princess Azula, whatever suspicions you’ve drawn, this doesn’t concern you.”  

“Oh, but it does,” she replied, stepping into the lantern’s light, her expression unreadable. “My dear uncle defying a direct order from my father? Harboring treasonous thoughts about retrieving a banished prince presumed dead? It’s practically treason. And treason always concerns me.”  

Iroh met her gaze evenly. “I’m simply delivering supplies to remote colonies. If I happen to pass near the last known location of my nephew… that would be coincidence.”  

Azula’s smile was cold and curved like the edge of a blade. “You never were a good liar, Uncle. Not like me.”  

She stepped closer, her boots clinking lightly against the wooden planks of the dock. “It's not worth anything to go find Zu-zu, you know. He got his punishment in the end. Go after him, Me and the entire Fire Nation go after your head. And we don't want that, do we?"  

Iroh stood his ground, his expression unwavering despite Azula’s words. The fog rolled in thicker now, cloaking much of the harbor in a sea of gray. Only the lanterns and the flame in Iroh’s eyes remained clearly visible.  

“I am not afraid of what the Fire Nation will do to me, Azula,” he said quietly. “But I am afraid of what we have become.”  

Azula scoffed. “Spare me the philosophy. You’re walking into a storm, Uncle. If you go through with this, you’ll be an enemy of the crown.”  

Iroh tilted his head slightly. “Then perhaps the crown should be more careful with how it treats its family.”  

For just a flicker—a heartbeat—something flashed across Azula’s face. Hesitation? Doubt? Pain? But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced once again by her perfected, cruel smirk.  

“I’ll give you one chance,” she said, her tone now laced with challenge. “Turn back now. Forget about Zuko. Pretend he never existed.”  

Jee tensed again, but Iroh’s voice cut through the stillness with calm, measured strength.  

“No.”  

The silence that followed was heavier than any roar of fire or clashing swords. Even the sea seemed to hold its breath.  

Azula’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oh well. Don't say I didn't warn you. NOW!!"

From the shadows behind her, several cloaked Fire Nation agents stepped out—spies, elite guards, the kind who answered only to Azula or Ozai himself. They blocked the path back to the main dock, closing in with smooth, synchronized precision.

Jee’s sword was already halfway out of its sheath. “Trap,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

Iroh didn’t move. His eyes were still on Azula.

““You came prepared,” he said calmly.

“I always do,” Azula replied, stepping back with theatrical grace. “Father said if you ever stepped out of line, I had his full permission to deal with it.”

"Knowing you, this is exactly the kind of behavior I would expect from you." Iroh said, tone still steady, eyes narrowing just slightly.

Azula’s smirk grew at Iroh’s remark, but it was tight—calculated. “Then you should’ve expected this outcome,” she said, flicking her hand with casual elegance.

The guards stepped closer.

“Hold,” Iroh said calmly, not to the guards—but to Azula. His hands remained at his sides, unthreatening, yet he radiated control like a mountain before a storm. “I know you’re not here just for obedience,” he said, watching her carefully. “You want something. You always do.”

Azula tilted her head slightly. “What I want,” she replied, “is order. And right now, you’re chaos. Sentimental, soft-hearted, foolish chaos.”

Iroh’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “I’m not the one ambushing family at the harbor in the middle of the night.”

“No. You’re the one sneaking onto a ship to go chase after a disgrace,” Azula snapped, her smile thinning. “He’s been a pathetic nothing since the moment he took his first breath, and you think you know better?”

“I do,” Iroh said firmly. “Because unlike you and your father, I still care.”

A sharp silence followed. The air was tense enough to shatter.

Azula took a long, slow breath. “Very well, Uncle. If you won’t back down…” she turned and raised her hand. “I’ll just have to—”

BOOM!

An explosion rocked the dock—smoke billowed out from a far warehouse as a burst of flame lit up the night sky. Shouts erupted from the direction of the barracks.

The guards near Iroh and Jee faltered, startled. Azula turned sharply, eyes blazing. “What in—”

“That,” Iroh said with a satisfied smile, “would be the distraction I asked for.”

Jee seized the moment. “Quick!” he barked, unsheathing his blade. With precision, he kicked a barrel into the legs of the nearest guard and lunged toward the ship ramp.

Iroh moved with surprising speed for his age, sweeping an attacker’s feet with one swift motion before sending a precise, controlled burst of flame into the air—just enough to disorient the rest.

Azula growled, “After them! Don’t let them reach the—!”

But it was too late. Iroh and Jee dashed up the ramp as the gangplank slammed onto the ship’s deck.

“Raise anchor!” Jee shouted to his men, who had already been briefed for a hasty departure.

The ship pulled away, sails catching the wind. Azula stood at the edge of the dock, fists clenched in fury as the Wandering Flame drifted into the misty sea.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t shout. She just watched… eyes burning with fury.

“You’ll regret this, Uncle…” she muttered. “You’ll regret this.”