Author's Notes: After you read this, you can read my other story, The Storm (if you haven't already done so), which could basically be considered a companion fic to this one. They're perfectly fine if you read them separately however, considering I wrote both of them without thinking of the other. xD I also imagine all of this taking place during season two, although really, it'd work in either season, I believe.

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Zuko was once told as a child that fire had the power to purify, to cleanse all around it with unfathomable ease. It seemed, Zuko thought, staring out over the barren wasteland before him, his piercing eyes glowing in the last of the sun's light as a chill crept down his spine, that someone had forgotten to remind him then of just what his element was capable of.

There were no corpses on the ground left to rot until they were ravaged by some lucky animals traveling along the outskirts of the woods; no blood to seep into the soil, all having dried and disappeared with the flames as they rapidly consumed everything in their path. Eventually even the soft hisses and crackling of the blazes died down, steadily depleting until they were nothing but tiny embers that were extinguished with the slightest breeze.

Ash was all that was left.

Always.

Cinders were the only remnants, the only evidence of the devastating destruction that occurred. After the fire passed and the heat dissipated, the only tangible remains were the ashes scattered over the ground, full of the lives that it devoured.

Zuko looked down at his hands as if expecting to see blood dripping from them, blood trickling down his palms and over his fingers. He stared at them, willing his eyes to see them scorched and charred and blistering with the heat that had originated from them, but nothing appeared.

Would she burn under his very touch?

He wondered about the possibility often, usually during reoccurring nightmares that overtook his mind whenever he felt the need to close his eyes. For as long as he could remember, he'd been taught to burn, to sear, to destroy in order to defeat his opponent, to conquer his element. He'd been taught to control the fire that he created.

But what happened when he couldn't?

What happened when she became a victim to his mistakes?

Zuko had learned what fire was capable of, the consequences of its use. Fire only left emptiness in its wake, a feeling of coldness and inexplicable bitterness that could only be associated with loss. In the end, that's all that was accomplished.

Loss.

Zuko dropped to his knees and ran his hand through the thin layer of light dust that littered the ground. He slowly clutched a handful, bringing it up to his face, before letting it slip through his fingers and fly away, vanishing in the small breeze which felt oddly chilling against his skin. His hands found their way to the ashes once more, clasping at the remains with an indescribable need to be sure that they were really there (he was filled with childish hope that they were not and realistic doubt that he wished was untrue). He shut his eyes when they brushed against the soft dust, disturbing the cinders in front of him.

Even in his nightmares, the ones that always seemed too very, very real, Zuko always knew that if he were to ever be with her the way he wanted, the way she wanted, in the end, all that would be left was ash.