Prologue

The cry of the baby carried down the street, breaking the silence of the dead of night. The tall, white buildings contained the wail softly, gently, the small whimpers spreading in echoes through the thickly housed city. Nothing stirred. The moon shone overhead, light pooling in the icy streets.

Slipping quietly and briskly across the frothy snow, two hooded figures moved in the cast shadows, one smaller and rounder, the other tall, thin, and cradling bundle of blue cloth closely, fur trimmings shivering in a lazy breeze. Ursa peered from beneath her hood, yellow eyes peering through the dark. Her lips were pale and pressed tightly, lines of worry deepening her in her youthful face.

Her baby mewled again, cold and frightened, squirming and wriggling in her arms. She tucked the edge of the cloth back, small, golden eyes peering up at her. "Shh," she begged, eyes tearing. "Shh, mother's here..." She held her child closer, rocking him gently. "Shhh, I'm here..."

"Ursa…" said the man beside her gently. "We must move. We don't have long."

Ursa nodded and steeled herself. "I know, Iroh."

Her small, baby boy quieted reluctantly, small fingers twisting the fabric of her cloak in a tight grasp. Ursa smiled down at her son, pale skin gleaming in the moonlight.

Ursa forced her gaze away, picking through the mansions with her jaw clenched. "I don't know if I can do this," she confessed, heart thundering in her ears.

"You must," Iroh urged quietly. "For the sake of your son." He softened. "It'll all be okay."

They crept forward, stopping before a mansion of solid ice, hidden behind looming white walls and towering, ornate gates.

Her baby was silent: asleep. Already peaceful before his new home.

"Here we are," Iroh murmured.

Ursa closed her eyes, feeling her heart breaking within her. "Here we are."

She couldn't do this. She bit down on her lip and sucked in a tight breath. This was goodbye. It has to be done.

She knelt before gates, slowly heaving her son from her protective arms. The child only stirred once, eyes moving restlessly behind his lids. She tucked him in tightly, trying to insulate heat. He would never find ease in the weather; he was made for the temperate skies of home. His Fire Nation blood longed for warmth.

But the north was his home now. No one would find him here. He would grow, unharmed, unknown. She knew this family would care for him, love him. They would know what to do.

Ursa drew a folded letter from her cloak, shaking fingers barely gripping the thin parchment when she set it by his side. She was brittle now, barely in control, exhausted and worried. Her son moved, eyelids fluttering.

She placed her hands over the child's belly, rubbing it gently to soothe him back into a harmless sleep. She dipped her head toward the ground in prayer, squeezing her eyes shut to halt the oncoming tears.

"One day, you'll see me again..." she breathed. "It night not be soon—it could be years—but I promise you, my son. One day, we'll meet, and you'll know me as your mother..."

She looked up and met Iroh's gaze, trying to soak in strength from the general. He closed his eyes and dipped his chin solemnly, and she turned back to her child. "These are good people, my son, and they'll do more for your than I ever could," she explained. "You'll be safe here. Your life here will be a good one. I know you'll forgive me, even if you don't understand my reasons." Tears fell, silver droplets rivering down her cheeks. "Forgive me for not being there for you when you'll need me most. Forgive me for leaving you here. But I won't leave you with nothing."

Ursa reached into her cloak and withdrew a crimson ribbon dangling with a gold and silver pendant. "It's a betrothal necklace, for when you come of age." She smiled, imagining the thought of her handsome young boy asking a lady for her love. Trembling, she rested the pendant across his chest, watching as it glowed with a white hue, the inlaid design of two circling dragons glinting in the moonlight. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and knew it was time to go.

"Burn brightly in this life, my son," she whispered. "I'll remember my promise."

She stood and stepped back from her son, wiping away her tears. She quickly rapped on the gates, voices suddenly sounding from the house in an onslaught of action. Lights flashed on between the cracks in the windows and the house seemed suddenly alive.

"We must go," Iroh insisted, and together, they backed away into the shadowed street.

The baby stirred, still swathed in his blankets. He caught his mother as she turned and lifted her hood once more. But when he blinked to look again, she was gone.

Rather than cry, Zuko gazed towards the stars hidden in a sky of glass. The distant ocean clapped against the tall cliffs, deep and sonorous in their heaving motions, like a dark heartbeat. The light cast down by the moon pebbled in silver pools across the ice, and the pendant atop his chest shined. For a brief second, the dragons almost seemed alive, writhing in the rock and clawing their way into the air.

Then darkness took him and he fell into a deep stupor.


The night unraveled when the gates were forced open, servants rushing to get to the pile of blankets they saw lying in the snow. The child was swept into the arms of many and passed from one person to another, swift motions pushing him deeper into his sleep.

Later that night, he lay hidden away in a dark room while the maids watched him and spoke with a worried couple. The tall man spent the night debating with his chief of staff the letter they found and the pendant to go with it, while his wife spent the hours with the baby, rocking him gently in the corner, slowly falling in love with each passing moment.

But the life of the night didn't reach the calmly sleeping Zuko. He was seeing colors behind his eyelids and hearing the soft voice of his long-gone mother. A half smile crept across his face, pulling his small but flawless features into a florescent expression. The boy was secure and left with good intentions. Only fate could mar him now.