The sky was dark, atmosphere cold as the night reached late. Darker clouds heavy with rainwater covered most of the sky, blocking what little light the moon would have provided had none of the cotton mass particles of air was in the way. The cold air was made even colder with the combination of the strong night wind and the rain that poured, bordering on a rainstorm that may be the first that the mountainous region had experienced after a long time.

The rain did nothing to stop the figure who stood at the peak of one of the mountains. Draped in a faded green long sleeve ragged tunic with a dark brown cloth tied around the waist as a belt, the figure spotted short dark brown hair which was soaked along with his clothes. But what stood out most was the red scar on the left side of his face, closing his eye almost to a slit, covering the beautiful the amber eye which would spark with life every time the figure was in a more positive mood.

But in a positive note, he was not. Despite being drenched from the heavy rain, the figure was boiling internally with rage. Just a week ago he had carried his injured uncle's body towards a partially destroyed hut not too far from where he stood. That same day he found himself teaming up with his 'mortal enemy', the Avatar, to face his own sister who had branded him 'a traitor'. It took him days to nurse his uncle, especially since he only possessed basic medical knowledge which he learnt from the many times he was treated after sustaining injuries from combat, and also some of the knowledge from his mother.

When his uncle awoke, he had spent the entire day training with the older man in hopes of honing himself with advanced firebending techniques should he meet his sister again. It weighed in his mind that it would be probable he would cross paths with his younger sibling, who his uncle had described as 'crazy and needs to be taken down'.

There he learnt about the essence of the 'lightning bending' which is created when both the positive 'yin' and negative 'yang' energy are separated and recombined as they crash together to create the cold-blooded fire. Despite a full demonstration by his uncle, and numerous attempts by himself, the figure had only managed to spark explosions in his face which sent him tumbling backwards from the impact.

"You will not be able to master lightning until you dealt with the turmoil inside you."

His uncle's words rung in his ears, deafening him from the rain that continued pattering down.

"Zuko, you must let go of your feelings of shame if you want your anger to go away."

How could he? He was Zuko, Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai, Prince of the Fire Nation, and Heir to the Throne. But he's mother had left him when he was much younger, his father exiled him to an impossible mission which even his forefathers had failed to accomplish, and just a few weeks ago, he was deemed a traitor by his own nation. How could he not be feeling ashamed? Even if he denied that he ever felt shameful by claiming he was proud as ever, his uncle's words again replayed in his mind.

"Pride not the opposite of shame, but its source."

How could his pride not be hurt? Even after his uncle decided to teach him a firebending move only he knew, which the exiled Prince would come to learn to be 'lightning redirection', the older man had refused to allow him to test it despite constant pleas by the younger man to shoot lightning at him.

Was it because Uncle felt I'm not ready?

Pushing the image of the incredulous yet comical look his uncle made upon hearing the request to the back of his mind, Zuko lifted his head to face the clouds. The sound of thunder clashing was what led him to stand atop this mountain peak, to get his own source of lightning.

No, Uncle Iroh is wrong. I. Am. Ready.

Taking in a deep breath, he yelled at the sky above.

"You've always thrown everything you could at me!"

His father's mistreatment. His mother's disappearance. His exile three years ago. The impossible mission to regain his lost honour. Fleeing the nation to become refugees. They were all difficult on him.

"Well, I can take it!"

Despite all the hardships, Zuko never gave up. He never gave up on his mission: to capture the Avatar, despite the numerous failures he faced. Zuko was always a sore loser, even if he did not admit it.

"And now I! Can! Give! It! Back!"

His uncle's lightning redirection technique. He wanted to test it. He needed to test it. He had to.

A bolt of lightning flashed in front of him at the other mountain peak ahead, prompting him to turn his head to watch it fade before tilting his head back up again. This time, though, his face was twisted with anger.

"Go on! Strike me! You've never held back before!"

Yet, the skies ignored him. It made him feel like a failure, again. The response, or lack of it from the skies reminded him of all the failures he endured. All the shame he felt when he let himself down. In a fit of rage, Zuko fell to his knees as he lifted both his arms up into the sky and let out a cry filled with anguish.

Then he felt it. He felt a tingling sensation on his skin as the hairs on his head stood up. He heard a soft hissing sound as if a pot of water was boiling in the distance. As he was about to open his eyes, it struck.

He wasn't standing directly under the lightning strike, nor was he very close to it when he was trying to get on his feet on the slippery and uneven ground. But as the bolt of electricity hit the ground, the small explosion threw his body backwards.

"Well, my life has been nothing but humbling lately."

Maybe Zuko miscalculated his abilities, but his own words to his uncle started to play despite the ringing in his ears as he felt his body crash onto the slope and rolled downwards.

His body slammed onto a large rock. No major injuries occurred, but the impact knocked the wind out of his body. Shaking his head and using his hands to clear his face of any mud that may have stuck to him from the roll, Zuko tried getting up with the rock to support his weight.

Zuko checked himself for any other hazards his body may have picked up but found nothing. With that, he stared back up at the sky grudgingly before he started to turn around. Except he stopped when his eyes caught sight of something.

He thought he was imagining it. About forty meters ahead of him stood a shadowy humanoid figure.

It was raining. It didn't make sense to Zuko that there would be anyone else out in the storm apart from himself. Normally, he would just stay on guard and not call out to anything but curiosity and a huge dose of impatience got to him.

"Who's there?!"

No verbal response from the figure, but Zuko was certain the figure was getting closer just by the fact that the silhouette was getting bigger by the moment.

Is he limping?

If Zuko was certain the figure was a person, he was definitely sure he noticed the uneven gait 'he' possessed. He realized that the figure was too far away to engage with his fire bending, so instead he decided – against his better judgement – to walk towards the shadowy figure instead.

"Hello?"

Again, no response apart from the pitter-patter of the rain and occasional thunderclap. As he closed the distance between himself and the figure, Zuko was definitely sure 'it' was a person and that 'person' was most probably injured.

Zuko was picking up pace as he approached the figure before he realized what he was doing. As he stood over the figure, the teen knelt and tried to get a look at 'him' as much as his limited vision allowed him, which wasn't much. The only information he was able to obtain was that this figure was a young man and was unconscious. He placed a hand on the stranger's chest and realized his breathing was shallow from the shuddering rise and fall of his chest.

This confused the exiled Prince more. The nearest town was abandoned, and as far as Zuko remembered there is no sign of residence apart from the decrepit house which is now used as shelter by both him and his uncle. So where in the name of Dragons did this stranger come from?

Frustrated, Zuko got up and turned around, ready to return to his shelter. But he couldn't. For the life of him, Zuko could not understand why he could not leave this stranger behind.

Internally he argued with himself. He had no information about this stranger, apart from the fact he is from the Earth Kingdom. They are in Earth Kingdom territory. And the Fire Nation troops hadn't made it this far up North. So why for the life of his dishonoured self could he not just leave a potential enemy to the mercy of nature?

No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.

Once again, the words of his mother replayed in his head. The same words he remembered when he was fighting one of the Earthbender soldiers in a small village a few weeks ago.

Zuko closed his eyes tight and let out a sigh. He was most likely making a mistake. A part of him screamed at him about it, but another side persuaded him that he should not leave a helpless stranger behind.

It would be what Mom or Uncle Iroh would do.

Cursing under his breath, Zuko bent down again to grab the stranger by the right arm, pulling him up and partially over his shoulder. He half carried and half dragged the stranger, who by now was probably heavy from being drenched in the rain, towards the direction of his temporary home as he weathered the storm.

oOo

Iroh looked out from the window of the decrepit house, staring into the mountain range where his nephew had stubbornly headed towards to find a source of lightning to practice the skill he just obtained. The old man let out a soft sigh as the rain pitter-pattered onto the half worn-out roof, some water dripping just near his makeshift bed from the holes in the ceiling.

His mind wandered to his nephew. Stubborn, hard-headed, impatient Zuko. Never one to give up, the eldest son of his younger brother had been tasked with the impossible, only to have found himself to be so close yet so far from his objective on countless occasion. Until they were both branded enemies of the Nation for treason.

A frustrated Zuko had refused to live a life that he was uncomfortable with and set out on his own to find his own path. Unknown to the teen, the former general had been following him since, only showing his face when his nephew needed help most. Until his own niece shot a blast of fire and injured him, which led to Zuko having to patch his uncle up.

Iroh agreed to train Zuko to make him better in case he faces Azula again. He should have expected his pig head of a nephew would want to push himself to the limits. He did it just before he was to encounter the Avatar the first time, despite Iroh's insistence that he was not yet ready.

But Iroh sympathized with Zuko. All the young Prince wanted was to get his father's love and approval, despite the many times Zuko claimed it was to regain his honour. It wasn't wrong, it wasn't entirely correct either. This nephew of his has the potential of many things, but he was blinded not by the literal scar he obtained from his ruthless father, but by his emotions. No matter, the former general had made it his sole duty to keep the teen from straying from his path.

"Destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out."

Iroh's recall of the words he spoke to his nephew at the Western Air Temple three years ago was cut short at the sound of a person panting and footsteps being dragged across the ground. Turning his head to face the sound, the grey-bearded man watched as his nephew entered his vision and the house, all while carrying a stranger?!

The sight confused the former general, albeit slightly, as he was quick to get on both his feet and rushed over to the duo as quickly as his recovering body allowed him.

"Prince Zuko," He called out as he helped carry the stranger on the other side. "What happened?"

"Ostrich horse ran away," Zuko said, each word being forced out in between breaths. He was clearly exhausted. They both placed the stranger down next to the fireplace, on dry ground and away from the dripping rainwater. The boy pointed at the stranger as he sat down abruptly. "Take a look at him."

Iroh had many questions. Where did Zuko meet this man? Why did Zuko save him? Where did he come from? What kind of clothing is he wearing? Instead of dwelling in them, the man got to grabbing whatever rag he could use as a makeshift towel to dry the two who had just walked in from heavy rain. Passing one cloth to Zuko, who started wiping himself as dry as he could while removing his drench tunic, the older man knelt to help dry the unconscious stranger.

There was one problem. The stranger was not wet. It was as if the man did not just soak himself under the rainstorm that his nephew dragged him away from. Totally dry, even his weird looking clothes were dry. Iroh turned his head to look as Zuko and realized that his nephew wasn't all soaking wet as he should have been. He was just slightly damp.

"What?"

Iroh ignored his nephew's question and turned his attention back to the stranger. All the while the stranger's mouth was moving, as if he was muttering something. But Iroh was unable to make out the words. Instead, he studied the stranger, noting on the firm muscly build the individual possessed. The length of his prone body suggested that he was tall, probably even taller than Zuko. Best guess, the stranger was in his early to mid adulthood.

"Who is he, uncle?"

After a few minutes, Zuko broke the silence bar the sound that came from the storm. Iroh snapped him a look.

"I don't know. You're the one who picked him up."

That reply earned a glare from the teen, who only huffed out in frustration before he made his way over to his uncle and the unconscious young man.

"He is Earth Kingdom, right?"

The tan on the skin indicated he probably was from the Earth Kingdom, with jet black hair that seems to support that, except the wild mess of it spoke otherwise. The complexion on his face made it difficult for Iroh to really pinpoint his nationality. The older man gently peeled open the right eye and realized the eyes were not rolled back. This allowed Iroh to study the colour of them. They were green, but not the usual dark forest green, emerald or jade-like the usual Earth Kingdom natives that he had met. Instead, this young man possessed green eyes that reminded both Iroh and Zuko of the ocean and sea when they were travelling on their naval ship.

Noticing that the stranger's lips were dry, Iroh turned to the small ceramic teapot that contained some water.

"Get me some water for him."

"You're seriously helping him?"

"You're the one that brought him here, and said 'take a look at him'."

A huff escaped Zuko's lips but he still walked over to the pot, poured some water into a small cup and handed it over to his uncle who gently lifted the stranger head slightly and placed the tip of the cup on his lips.

Iroh carefully tilted the cup forward and watched as the water entered the stranger's mouth. Immediately Iroh noticed that the young man's skin seemed to change from its pale shade to a much healthier one, and his facial expression turned from a twisted frown into one of more relief. Interesting.

He was also able to pick up on one of the words that the stranger was muttering.

"... Chase..."