Ursa falls to her knees in front of the grove's shrine. A stone ship rises out of sapphire waves, a gift to the Fire Nation from the Earth Kingdom over three hundred years ago. "Spirit of Freedom," she whispers, throat half-strangling the words. "I know… I know I've never offered you anything before, and I know it's ignorant and arrogant to expect anything from you, but I have no one else to turn to."

She gently sets an orange on the shrine. Her eyes reach up to meet the tiny eyes of the figure standing at the helm of the stone ship. "My son will be unprotected when I leave. I know no one can protect him against Ozai, or protect him from himself, but… please, stay with him. Show him freedom. Show him that he's free to be his own person—he doesn't have to be the same Fire Lord as his father or grandfather."

The scent of oranges fills the air.

"Ursa," a voice says, breaking halfway through her name.

Ursa turns and sees Iroh. "Oh, Iroh," she breathes, taking in the sight of his tear-stained face and ragged hair. Bags hang under his eyes like extra skin.

The man falls to his knees next to her. She wraps her arms around him. "I'm so sorry."

Iroh sniffs. He doesn't try to wipe his tears away. "You're leaving," he finally says.

Ursa nods.

He reaches out and takes the orange. Ursa watches with wide eyes. Is Iroh... betraying her? Taking her only offering to the spirits?

He peels the orange. Ursa makes no move. Iroh separates the peel from the fruit and carefully pulls apart the segments. With delicate movements, he sets each segment before the shrine in the shape of the air symbol. "Spirit of Freedom," he lowly says, "Please, accept our offering. I come too late for my own son, so please…"

Sobs wrack his body and he can't continue.

Ursa swallows. "I have to go," she whispers, standing.

Iroh places his forehead against the ship's crest. He does not watch Ursa leave, but before she's out of earshot, he says, "I will protect him."

And then the grove falls still and its weight lessens, one heartbeat lighter.

Iroh leans back and stares at the figure at the stone ship's helm. "What happened to Lu Ten?" he whispers.

The figure's eyes glow. Of the eight segments, seven begin to shrivel and rot. Iroh furrows his brow, but he waits. The segments swell back to their normal size, but the sickly color remains. Flies begin to buzz around the seven segments. The eighth remains plump and ripe.

"One last chance," Iroh states. "I suggest you make the most of this."

The eyes fade, back to the gray stone.

Iroh doesn't leave. He waits, closing his eyes, praying.

He prays a lot, now.

Three Years Later

"I'm here to serve, sir," the young girl says, pulling out a scroll. Iroh takes it. The girl swallows, shifting nervously under Zuko's gaze. But he doesn't really see her—he stands at the ship's railing, a couple feet away from Iroh and the girl, staring at the Fire Nation streets. He wonders when he'll see them again. His wound still smarts beneath his bandages, and he knows it'll leave a scar.

Iroh rolls up the scroll and places it in his robes. "Welcome aboard, Kai."

She smiles, relief sweeping across her face. "Thank you, General Sir."

"Please, it's just Iroh, Kai."

"Yes, Iroh Sir."

Iroh suppresses a sigh. So much formality and politics around here. "I'll talk to the captain about getting you your own quarters, away from the men."

Kai bows to him. She shivers lightly, welcoming the salty sea breeze sweeping across her sweaty neck. This armor is so thick, nothing like she's used to…

"Nephew, welcome your own personal guard aboard your ship," Iroh calls to Zuko. Kai jumps and stares at the prince with wide eyes.

Zuko snaps from his reverie and approaches Kai. He bows. "Welcome aboard, and… thank you." His last words barely register as a whisper, and his eyes drop to the ship's deck.

"Thank you, My Prince," she answers, bowing lower, her cheeks heating.

His eyes alight on the dirt covering her face. Despite her filthy appearance, she smells like oranges. "Where's your family from?" he asks, half curious, half suspicious. Something flickers beneath her eyes, something that vaguely reminds him of Azula. It's something… calculating. Like she's sizing him up.

"Zuko!" Iroh scolds.

Kai rips her eyes from Zuko's gaze. "Unimportant."

Zuko narrows his eyes but says nothing. He'll find out soon enough whom he can and can't trust.