Good news everyone! I found out how exactly, Aang became a Master.
"in order to receive the tattoos as well as the title of a master, an airbender must pass the thirty-six levels of airbending along with engineering a new technique. In actuality, Aang had only reached the thirty-fifth level before he left the Jong-Mu Temple, but his invention of the Air Scooter earned him the tattoos prematurely, making him the youngest airbending master in history."

|||||||||| Masks ||||||||||||

Chapter 3

The journey back had been fairly short, but the automatic movements needed to drive the tiny ship was enough to let his mind wander.
He considered the options given to him. It was strange, that after so long, this opportunity presented itself.
He could set a trap for the Avatar. It would be easy enough, with the soldiers available to him. However, if Zhao were to find out about his capture, the man would likely have him arrested for hiding information about the Avatar...and then take the boy as his own captive. He didn't think Zhao would be so kind to the young airbender a second time around.

Another option was just ignoring the offer. He could sit back, wait a few days and let the boy think the 'Blue Spirit' ran away, then pick up his trail again at a later point. His mind trailed back to the encounter, the tiny airbender (only a child) sobbing against his chest. The boy was alone, even more than Zuko was, for the banished prince had his uncle and the knowledge that his family was alive, even if they didn't accept him.
That child... was the last Airbender.
Zuko's mind was made up.

His golden eyes narrowed, spotting his ship sitting placidly in the waves, the silhouette of his uncle clearly standing on the prow, waiting for him. How he would pull off this plan was another thing entirely.
The sun was nearly to its apex when Zuko finally arrived at his ship, the little steamer pulled into its belly and tucked away for later use.

As he emerged from the belly of the ship, the sunlight struck his face. It was lovely, the feeling of energy and life seeping into his skin, even granting a faint sensation of warmth into his scar.
Shaking off the instinctual urge to just sit and sunbathe, he strode forward, meeting the man who was already striding toward him with arms open for a hug. With a sigh, he allowed the embrace. As soon as the arms released him, he was stepping back and turning on his heel.

"I have a new lead on the Avatar. I'll be in my chambers, and I don't want to be interrupted."

His uncle's soft voice followed him.
"Are you going to inform Admiral Zhao?"

"No, uncle. He can either respect my authority as a prince, or accept that I've been... sent away on a mission about the avatar, beyond the touch of the Military."
Iroh frowned slightly at the obvious avoidance of 'banished'

"Either way, he should accept that he has no authority over me, nor my crew."
Zuko took a deep breath, casting his eyes around his cabin for any materials he could bring that would not give him away. More rope would be good. Some rations, maybe? Oh, definitely a healing kit.

"I'd like you to continue following the Avatar's trail by sea. I'll inform my men later today, that your will is to be treated as my own."
"Do you believe you are in danger, Prince Zuko?"
His uncle's quiet voice stopped the sharp movements around his cabin, placing the pack on his table. He gave a long look at the old general, noticing the sharp eyes and stiff posture.

"I have a lead." He repeated, turning away and giving a long look to map hanging on his wall, before concluding it was too large and conspicuous.
"I don't think I'll be in danger, following it, and I don't think I'll be in danger if I stayed on the ship," He scowled. "I'm not running away." He heard a soft sigh behind him.

"I never said you were, nephew. Forgive an old man's worries. But, if you're giving me control of the ship, how long do you think you'll be gone?'
Zuko sat down on his bed, idly noting that he wouldn't be able to sleep on a proper mattress for a while after today.
"Hopefully no more than a week at a time. I'll check in as often as possible without being suspicious. I want to figure out some things that I can't exactly do with a platoon behind me."

Iroh watched him for a moment, mulling over his nephew's words. When he spoke next, his words were carefully enunciated, with a tone of blithe innocence.
"Do you have a disguise? You're fairly recognizable, after all."
Zuko was slightly surprised that his uncle was giving in so easily, having expected more protests from the protective man.
"I do, but I haven't figured out how to mask my voice."
His uncle nodded, stroking his beard.

"Your voice is sounding strained from all the shouting you've been doing, nephew. Are you sure you don't need some tea for your journey? I'm sure I have a soothing jasmine blend stored away somewhere."
Zuko's eyebrow twitched.

"I don't want any tea, uncle, I -" He cut himself short, mind racing. He had yelled a lot, hadn't he. The prince could honestly say he didn't remember a conflict with the Avatar where he hadn't been shouting most of the time. Had they ever heard him speak normally?
Well, that probably wouldn't be enough. A whisper, maybe, would be unrecognizable. He would also have to find some reason to keep on his mask at all times. That would probably be the most suspicious, and most necessary tool in keeping his identity to himself.

Zuko inwardly winced at the idea of having his vision so limited for such a length of time. No peripheral at all. His damaged eye already had trouble seeing anything more than a squint, he didn't need to handicap the other one as well.

Realizing he had stopped in the middle of a sentence, he continued, pretending the long pause had never happened.
"Thank you for the offer, uncle, but I don't know if I'll have time to brew any, let alone enjoy it."
His uncle chuckled heartily, lifting his hand off his beard with a wave.

"Of course, enjoying tea is something that should never be rushed. It would be a shame to lose the leaves to a hastily made brew. I'll leave you to your plans. It's really too bad that you'll be missing music night. You really are an excellent Tsungi horn player."
His uncle left the room, and Zuko could hear him begin to hum an old folk song down the hallway.

That man... He could never tell if he was being misunderstood or simply read like an open book. General or not, Zuko had never met a man more capable of getting under people's skin. He should have been a diplomat, instead of a soldier. But... if his uncle approved of this crazy idea, then perhaps it had some merit.
Perhaps running into this half-cocked idea could be worth something, if he worked it right. What was he doing, anyway? Following the Avatar? Posing as an Airbender? It was only so long until they caught him without a mask. How would he sleep? What if the habits ground into him since childhood gave away his position as nobility.. and with his luck, THAT would be what blew his cover, especially compared to the people he was traveling with.

Who knew how barbaric those Water Tribes could be, in their huts. Peh. This was ridiculous. At least the Air Nomads didn't club wild tiger-seals for dinner.
Air Nomads... The Avatar.
Zuko sighed, leaning down to pluck a whetting stone from a lower shelf to place in his knapsack. His honor demanded that he fulfill his father's request. Ozai had won the Agni Kai, and thus had won whatever dispute they would have had. Zuko was obligated to fufill whatever terms were set.

His Father had shown mercy. If any other man had spoken up, and shown such disrespect, the man would have been killed. Even in the final blow, his father did not strike to kill, like he had encouraged others to do. He had spared his son. He had banished him with the chance of forgiveness.
His father did love him.

With a long sigh, Zuko allowed his firebending to curl around the candles in the room, flaring them higher for a moment. He released them and sat upon his mattress, removing the armor that had become second-nature to wear. Placing them atop the storage chest, Zuko stripped off his shirt and toed his shoes off, slipping under the thin covers.

Their ships were warm, heated by the fires that powered it. There was no need for thick a thick duvet or layers of blankets.
Staring at the ceiling with his hands over his chest, he thought about this... plan.
Going after the Avatar... even with his face and voice disguised, there was still the chance of accidentally losing it in battle, or breaking it. In the daylight, his eyes would likely be visible, and Zuko was wary about obscuring his vision with a black netting.

How long was he going to keep this charade up, anyway. How long could he? There was a tense sort of thrill in the idea of traveling with his enemy, posing as a friend. However... that brought up betrayal. If his Identity is revealed, that group probably would not take it well. He heard the Airbending monks practiced nonviolence, and did not believe in revenge. Water Tribe, however... had a healthy vengeful streak

Eyes beginning to slide shut, his mind drifted back to the three-year quest that had driven him to explore the waters of the world.
At thirteen years old, he was hunting for a legendary figure that was said to be able to topple an entire nation. A hundred-year-old master with power over all four elements and the blessings of the spirits. How could he have fought such a being?

For three years, he agonized over this prospect, as well as the crushing helplessness at finding someone who hadn't been seen in a hundred years. Who may as well not exist. For those three years, he was chasing the wind.
It was a mixture of dread and delight when he saw the strange light while sailing past the southern pole. The entire way to that location, he imagined possibilities. (And then the second flare helped his navigator pinpoint the area to arrive at, so they wouldn't get lost moving around the giant ice floes.)

When he was met by a young airbender, his first reaction was an indignant exclamation. He was affronted that his goal was a child, but privately nearly trembling with relief, that he would actually be able to manage this deed. He wouldn't have to die trying. He probably wasn't going to be slaughtered. He was only sixteen.
There was a whisper in the back of his mind, then and now. 'These fears... you were sent on a hopeless quest. It is only by the grace of the spirits the Avatar returned when it did'

His own thoughts shoved away, Zuko drifted off to sleep.

'your father wanted you to suffer and die in dishonor, searching for a man who didn't exist.'

||||||||||||| Cat-Owls are actually quite adorable |||||||||||

Aang was thoughtful as he bounded through the trees toward the icy swamp ahead. He was excited, yes. So very excited and hopeful and relieved (and just a touch resentful, at his friends for trying to make him believe his people had all been wiped out)

The wind swirled around his feet, buoying him up and lending him an extra speed boost. Bursting from the tree line, he floated down to the icy sludge, shivering as his legs sunk into the mud once more. Time to gather some frogs.

As he methodically scoured the bottom of the pools of water, his thoughts began to wander again.
There was someone for him, who was returning tomorrow night, and who recognized him as someone they would protect. An important person.
Something niggled his mind, like a conversation he remembered having, but couldn't recall the details.

Well... he hoped the man was coming back. The ceremony was all well and good, but he couldn't help the doubts that crept up his spine like hungry iguana-spiders. The man hadn't spoke the entire evening. Was he even able to?

What if his teacher... wasn't able to talk? If he had to mime everything, it would be really hard to learn anything from him, at a reasonable pace. He didn't know what skill level the man was at, anyway. Aang was considered a Master by the temple standards, but he had a feeling his power was more due to being the Avatar, than anything he personally achieved.
It put a sour taste in his mouth.

Being the Avatar... How could he appreciate any of his skills, when he didn't know which ones were made of his own merit, and which ones were bled through from past lives?
With a heavy sigh, Aang placed the last of the frozen frogs in his inner breast pocket, feeling their cold forms clink together against his chest. The feeling of mud, new and old, pretty much saturated him.

He felt exhausted, dirty and confused. What a night.
Tracing his way back the camp, he was initially frightened to find items strewn all over, from dead animals to camp supplies and pieces of armor and jewelry. At first, he thought their camp had been attacked.

The adrenaline rush died back down when he saw Katar and Sokka right where he left them, Momo curled next to the waterbender with a wooden spoon cuddled against his furry chest. With a huff of a laugh, he imagined one of them asking the flying lemur to fetch something, only to send him out when the critter didn't grab the right thing. Katara was even wearing a crown.
Was that real gold?

With the jolt fading, his energy seemed to sap out of him as well. With a smothered yawn, he shoved a frog in each of his friend's mouths, quietly telling them to suck on them.
He puttered around their area, sorting through the random items that his furry friend had retrieved. There was a fair amount of dead bugs and small animals, along with sticks and torn strips of cloth. Rusting cups, old satchels... actually, that was pretty useful. He bet Katara could probably fix that up fairly easily.
With a spark of interest, he began placing the items in different piles, with the completely useless items and unfortunate bodies being tossed (or respectfully placed) outside their shelter.

He ended up with a smallish pile of usable items and an even smaller pile of potentially trade-valuable items. Seriously, was that crown made of real gold? Where on earth did Momo get that from?

The young monk glanced up at the snoozing creature, hoping it hadn't been stolen from some important person who would be looking for the lost item. Placing it at the top of the small pile, he wandered over to the pair of dazed water tribe, whose frogs were beginning to thaw out. Tugging them out of their mouths (sokka managed an indignant 'Hey!') he replaced them with less-thawed frogs from his shirt pocket. Dully registering that he had only collected four frogs, he decided to end the day.
Aang dragged his feet over to Appa's tail, flopping down into the fluffy fur and curling up slightly. His eyes drifted shut and his mind drifted back to the airbender he had encountered. His mind wandered around the different skill levels of benders before drifting away.
There was a perceived moment of darkness before his mind churned to life.

He dreamed of Kuzon, the two of them exploring a garden in the fire nation. Back when the Fire Nation was just beginning its industrial age and the peace, though strained, still held. The air was rich with the smell of blooming flowers, the buzz of humming-bees flitting past and chirping of wood crickets. There was a small raised fountain full of smooth river rocks inside. Aang was playing with the gold and white dragon-koi in the fountain, tickling their scales and giggling when they wrapped their whiskers around his finger.

"Why do you think you're not going to be a strong firebender? I think you're plenty strong now, and you're still learning... And you're only like, eight."
"Because of my eyes," replied Kuzon.
"Huh?"

"It has to do with the body and spirit. Like you'll only find Airbenders with grey eyes."
"Um... Okay?" Kuzon threw a leaf at him, which fluttered uselessly down between them.
"Stop being dumb, you should know this already. The nations each have their own 'look' right?" Aang lifted an eyebrow at the quotation marks drawn into the air by his friend's fingers, turning back to the fish and stroking along its side.

"Like... Fire Nation tends to have pale skin and light brown eyes, right?" Kuzon gestured to himself, sitting down next to the fountain. Aang nodded absently, gently tugging on one of the wing-like fins of the dragon-Koi. He responded with a sigh.

"The Water Tribes have blue eyes and darker skin, and the Earth Kingdom has a sort of tan, and Green eyes. I knoooowwww." Aang pouted when the fish darted away, apparently having enough of his hassling. It started doing small loops at the other end of the fountain. Sulking, probably.
"Anyway, what does eye color have to do with bending skill?"

"The eye colors aren't just for the different nations - they're for benders in particular. You can get people with brown or hazel eyes in nearly any nation. The brighter colors matter, though. Have you ever seen someone with dark grey or brown eyes, who was a particularly great Airbender?"
Aang blinked, tilting his head and resting it on the fountain's edge.

"Hmm... Not really. Monk Gyatso's eyes are like mine, all kinda silvery, and I know some of the girls at the Eastern Temple also have light eyes... Are you sure you know what you're talking about?"
"But they're all benders, right? I heard everyone at the temples knows how to Airbend. What about the Air Nomads who just live on the island? The ones not in temples and befriending sky bison."
Aang sat up abruptly.

"There are Air Nomads who don't live in temples?"

Kuzon gave him a flat look.
"Are you sure you're not an idiot?"
"No, seriously, what?"

His friend huffed, folding his arms and eyeing the young monk with furrowed eyebrows.
"Your people are called the Air Nomads for a reason... not Temple-dwellers or Compass-points or something stupid like that. Your leaders live at the temples, but the rest of your people are kinda..." Kuzon flapped his hand in the air.
"Nomadic?"

Light brown eyes shot him a dirty look.
"The word I was looking for was 'Scattered' but yes, Nomadic is also right. Like all my people don't live in the Royal Palace, not all your people live in the temples. Is that clear enough for you?"
A long pause.

"What does this have to do about eye color anyway?"
Kuzon gave him a look.
"What?"

"What do they teach you, anyway?" Kuzon muttered and Aang leaned sideways to push his shoulder against the other boy's.
"Plenty of stuff. Like how to fall off a cliff and not die, how to bake delicious pies, how to ride air currents, or how to do THIS!"
From under his cloak, he whipped out a trio of marbles, whipping them in tight circles between two palms. He shot a cheeky grin to his friend, who looked amused but not terribly impressed.

"You added a third marble from last time."
"Yep!" Aang's chirp was nothing less than gleeful, and he snatched his marbles out of the air before Kuzon could swipe them (like he tried last time) and began rolling them around in his palm.
"You've never seen a dark-eyed airbender, but you've seen the Royal family, right? They all had gold eyes."
Aang nodded.

"All of the Royal Family are powerful firebenders... well, anyone of direct bloodline. People marrying in don't necessarily... Anyway! Different colored eyes show that the person is particularly strong in spirit or something like that, so if someone has a certain eye color, that means they're a strong bender, or will be someday."
Aang folded his legs together, peering at his friend with interest.

"Strong Firebenders tend to have much lighter, yellowish eyes. The Royal Family is especially known for their dragon-like gold color."
Kuzon paused, picking at some dirt under his nail for a moment before continuing.
"A gold-eyed firebender has a hard time seeing in darkness, but they're great at spotting sparks and things that gleam."
The monk's eyes lit up and an excited grin spread across his face.

"Like a heron-viper!" He brought his arm up to mimic the movement while he spoke, the 'head' waving back and forth.
Kuzon raised an eyebrow, and Aang made snapping motions with the 'head' before explaining his thought.
"They can sense heat to strike at prey on land, but their eyes automatically focus on things that sparkle and gleam. So, if you want to distract a firebender, throw something sparkly, right?"

"We're not birds, featherbrain."
Aang snickered at his friend and tossed a marble at him with a quick motion. He was surprised when fingers snatched the tiny metallic ball out of the air, plucked like a lechee berry.

"I'm sure 'sparkle' sounds like a lame weakness, but it's actually pretty useful for spotting things thrown at us."

Kuzon flung the marble back, waiting for Aang to fumble with it in the air before jumping to his feet and shouting dramatically.
"Suprise attack! Thousand palms~"
Aang yelped and tumbled backwards, catching himself just in time to jump to the side, avoiding his friend's open-handed swats. Laughing wildly, he returned the swatting, facing away and flailing his arms in his friend's direction.
The surroundings swam out of focus, and when he looked back at Kuzon, those laughing brown eyes transforming into the shimmer of gold and white scales, surrounded by blue water.

||||||||||| End Chapter ||||||||||||||

You should remember that Kuzon and Aang, like any characters, are going to be looking at the world through glasses tinted by nationality... as well as their age. Some of the things they know as 'fact' and are presented as fact, could be theories, rumors, or even wild guesses brought on by what they've observed.
People's minds are fun like that. "Until something proves me wrong, I'll believe this as fact"