He was probably the happiest traitor in the history of the Fire Nation. All right, "happiness" might not be exact. After all, there was still the small problem that most people he knew fit into two categories: the ones who just distrusted him and the ones who actually wanted to kill him.

Well, the flying bison liked him. That was something at least.

Yesterday he'd almost been killed by the assassin he'd stupidly hired, managed to finally say what he meant to the Avatar, gotten accepted into their group, been threatened by the waterbender, and endured one of the most uncomfortably awkward dinners he could remember. He still slept soundly, though, compared to his nights in his father's palace. That kind of peace came only from the deep certainty of knowing he was doing the right thing. There was far to go still; he had to make a lot of amends to Aang and his friends, and to Uncle Iroh when he found him. But for the first time in years, he felt like he had hope rather than just desperation. He was sure he'd regained some of the honor he'd lost as the person he used to be.

He'd risen at dawn and now climbed to the clifftop to practice, since it had the open space and bare ground he needed to bend fire safely. True firebenders usually greeted the morning sun with their exercises. They could draw some heat from many sources, even the faint, distant flames of the stars, but nothing compared to the sun's fire for raw power.

He started with the basic forms to loosen up: Fire Lotus, Eagle-Bear, Black Dragon, Wildfire…the motions smooth and familiar by now. He'd spent most of his time at sea complaining about having to do the Fire Lotus form—"It's for children, I learned it when I was nine!"—and demand to learn a harder set of exercises. Remember your basics,Uncle Iroh had always told him in that case. They're the foundation on which all firebending is built. And even a master can always do them better. He'd become even worse about "kid's stuff" after his pride got a boost with his Agni Kai against Zhao...not to mention his obsession with being able to defeat the Avatar.

As the sun grew warmer he moved into the Rising Phoenix set, the last he'd learned before hiding his firebending abilities in Ba Sing Se. A master's level form, and every time he'd tried it, all he managed to do was fail and remind himself that unlike Azula, unlike Uncle Iroh, unlike his father...he was no master.

Right from the start it was hard; the first slow, searching motions of the unfledged phoenix were unusual to firebending. And it stayed every bit as difficult. By the end, the firebender was surrounded by a blur of flame from a furious barrage of rapid airborne circular kicks and strikes to represent the firebird's wings as it took flight. The control and focus needed had long been beyond his reach. He couldn't even count how many times in the past he'd lost the rhythm and ended up in the dirt after landing off-balance in the sequence of non-stop leaping attacks.

It struck him as he was almost through that it seemed much easier. The realization caught him off guard, and he lost his focus. Landing awkwardly on a spinning kick, he felt his ankle give and winced, barely saving his balance. Time to stop before he twisted it further trying to complete the set, he decided. Still…still, he thought, it was far closer than he'd ever been before. He couldn't help punching the air with a quick laugh of triumph.

It surprised him, but maybe it shouldn't have. He'd felt the difference in his control and focus. When a man's spirit is finally in balance, all things are suddenly possible. Master your mind first, Zuko, and you'll master this. Iroh, as usual, had been right—had heever given Zuko bad advice? All right, maybe the bit about hair for the evening out with Jin…and when he'd tried to make Zuko eat those poisonous white lotus flowers…and when he'd claimed that Zuko really would make an excellent sungi horn player. Zuko mentally amended that Iroh had never given him bad advice about firebending or on being a man. As for everyday things, he was probably better off on his own instincts.

In any case, maybe this was because he hadn't needed to try and live up to someone else's expectations. He was firebending this morning not to prove his worth against some impossible ideal, but just for himself. It felt almost like being a little kid and finding the joy in producing that first flame all over again. He'd actually enjoyed it rather than pushing himself to the point of despair. He'd approached that feeling sometime practicing with Uncle Iroh; but there had always been the grim thoughts of Azula, of his father, of the Avatar, to keep him off-balance.

He realized he was grinning like an idiot, but the discovery was just that overwhelming. And even though he knew he still needed to improve before the final battle, it was strangely without pressure. He knew he could do it, with this new clarity of mind and spirit. The old ghosts had no power over him.

Wiggling the ankle a bit, he decided it had loosened up enough to give Rising Phoenix another try. He'd always secretly loved the jumping strikes of firebending. Azula sneered that they were all flash and no substance. But then, her firebending was precise and perfect because she never let her emotions color her actions. Maybe he cared too much and it blew up in his face at times, but he'd rather have that than feel nothing at all. He turned to start the set again, and gave a start to see Aang standing there.

He was suddenly embarrassed that Aang might have seen him acting like a crazy, laughing kid rather than conducting himself with a teacher's maturity. "How long have you been here?"

Aang bowed, fist to palm. "Er…half an hour, Sifu Zuko." He had to admit he appreciated the courtesy of "Master", a title he hadn't formally been awarded. He hastily bowed in return, thinking a little sourly that if it wouldn't be more obvious than the blushing, he'd get rid of the sudden heat in his face by casting it off as fire.

"You're up early." He winced when he realized he'd almost snapped it like an accusation.

"You said to come up and see you mid-morning. It's almost noon." Glancing at the sun, he was shocked to see that Aang was right. He'd been so lost in his own world that he'd had no sense of time passing.

And if Aang was here…he glanced towards the nearest copse of bushes about fifty yards away. He had the feeling Katara was there to keep a suspicious eye on him. So he'd had an audience. That was just wonderful. Not to mention whatever confidence he'd felt seemed to evaporate with Aang standing there, ready to be taught. It was one thing to make mistakes himself. It would be another thing entirely to be a lousy teacher, particularly when the balance of the entire world hung on Aang's learning to bend fire. Especially not with the Avatar's girlfriend right there and ready to kill him—he didn't doubt she was serious—if she thought Zuko was out of line. No, no pressure at all.

"You're right," he admitted, trying to shake off the wave of doubt and self-consciousness. He needed to regain focus. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention to time. And you've really got none to waste."

"Well, it was good. I got to see some firebending," Aang offered generously. "I mean, I've seen it before...a lot. But I got to see without worrying about being attacked and all. So I got to actually watchand…" He broke off.

"I know. This is really awkward. But we both have to get past it. You have maybe two months to learn firebending. And my father…" He hesitated at the word. "Fire Lord Ozai's very powerful."

Aang leaned on his staff, shaking his head. "It's got to be hard. To have to fight your own family; I mean. I guess I wouldn't know. It wouldn't happen to me."

And that dedication to peace and harmony meant the Air Nomads weren't prepared when Fire Lord Sozin decided to wipe them out to kill the new Avatar. They must have died by the dozen. Then my Gramps gave Fire Nation history the tale about the glorious Battle of Zhanxi Pass where he routed the 'army' of the Air Nomads. And I believed the lies. I believed it all. He thought it but didn't say it.

"He's my father," he said instead. "His blood is in me; Fire Lord Sozin's blood." Not exactly an illustrious patrimony the last few generations: Fire Lord Sozin, who started the war and slaughtered all the Air Nomads save the one standing right here. And Fire Lord Azulon, whose idea of punishment for his son's ambitions was to order him to kill his own son. And Fire Lord Ozai…well, the less said the better. "All of that pain, that cruelty. That's my heritage."

"But you're still here with us. You picked a different path from all of them."

"I have my mother's ancestors too. And she gave up a lot to save my life. I guess she got it from her grandfather…Avatar Roku."

"Wait, Avatar Roku was your great-grandfather?" Aang's grey eyes widened in shock at that news.

"Yeah. And Sozin and Roku—they were friends. I mean, when they were young. Before Sozin started the war." At least Aang wasn't accusing him of making up some connection to Avatar Roku to try and earn some trust.

"I know. Roku told me about Sozin. But I didn't know that…"

Almost wistfully, he wished he could have met Roku as well. "I didn't either. But in the end, I can choose which destiny I follow: the Fire Lord or the Avatar." He fell silent for a moment, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face.

He'd made his choice. If Sozin's way was the Fire Lord's path, it wasn't what he was meant to be. "I'll honor Avatar Roku, and you too, Avatar Aang. And…and maybe I can fix some of Sozin's mistakes. Along with mine, I mean."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad you're not chasing us any more." Aang grinned sheepishly. "I mean…uh…"

"Thanks," he said wryly. There wasn't much good answer to that aside from, Sorry for the last seven months. I mean the whole thing with stalking and trying to capture you and…best to not start stammering that apology again.

The silence got awkward pretty quickly. Aang glanced his way a few times, as if he was waiting for Zuko to say something. With that, he decided it would be best to just move on before he dug himself a hole again with his words. "Anyhow, time for your first lesson. Firebending's very different from anything you've done before. It starts with the breathing—"

"Oh," Aang gave a heavy sigh as he shifted into a horse stance. "Breathing exercises?" His lack of enthusiasm matched any six-year-old of the Fire Nation starting firebending lessons. Zuko hid a little smile at that.

"In through the nose, out through the mouth." He looked Aang over; it was pretty obvious he'd been studying earthbending lately. He'd settled into a stance that was so rooted that one good fire strike would burn him alive, because he wouldn't be able to move to avoid it. "Your stance—you're too rooted. A firebender's always in motion." At least Aang was an airbender, so he was agile and quick on his feet. That'd be useful soon enough.

Obediently Aang shifted his feet closer together, stood up straighter. He rested his hands on his thighs. "OK?" He looked again and sighed. Now he was in what Zuko guessed was his natural airbending stance. He'd be ready to leap and move, all right, but he couldn't stand against any kind of attack. Of course, it didn't help that he was tense as a board too. This is going well. He's as nervous as I am. He's probably waiting for me to start yelling and throwing fireballs at him.

Master Kareza would have poked and prodded a pupil with her staff into assuming the right stance. Uncle Iroh would probably come up with some kind of obscure proverb to make the point…or somehow connected it to tea."Um…not quite. You need something in between the two." He demonstrated, sliding his feet into a firebender's stance. "You need both balance and the ability to move."

"Oh!" Aang beamed, looking happy that something made sense. "It's like a waterbending stance!" Well, whatever he called it, his new stance looked fine.

He let Aang continue for a while, and fished for some encouragement. "You're…ah…doing well on the breathing."

"That's from meditation. Lots of it."

Next he made a flame almost the size of a kuai ball—always better to let a new student start with something big and visual, and so easier for the mind to grasp hold of. Deliberately he made its heat low, feeding it only what energy it needed to keep the flame from dying out. He let it hover over his palm for a moment then nudged it into the space between them. "You have to control fire before you can create or work with it. So as you inhale, draw in heat from this flame as energy, along with your breath. That'll decrease the flame. Do itslowly," he cautioned. "And then hold the breath in."

The flame wavered, then rapidly shrunk and disappeared entirely. He just stared at the empty space for a moment, incredulous. "M'hmhh," Aang mumbled with his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk jay from his held breath. Zuko interpreted it as "I'm hot," although the sweat pouring down Aang's face pretty much told the tale. Idiot. You're dealing with the Avatar. Most firebending students would be lucky to draw down the flame at all on their first try. He should have figured that the Avatar would be much more powerful. And he had a sudden suspicion that without control to help him, Aang hadn't just drawn on the flame's energy. He'd probably pulled in some from the sun as well.

No flame to just slowly exhale the heat back to, and even if Zuko made another one, he had the feeling Aang was too panicked to control it anyway. And if he Aang just exhaled all that stored energy fast without a proper channel like a Breath of Fire, he'd end up with his throat blistered, maybe swelled shut. Time to skip ahead before the Avatar managed to cook himself from the inside out: Fire Lord Ozai would really love that. "Next," he said, forcing himself to focus and remain calm. He demonstrated a quick punch for casting fire. "Channel the energy as a flow from your lungs down your arm to your hand, and then out. It's cast off as fire." If that didn't work; well, then as much as the Fire Nation made taboo the idea of manipulating heat in another person's body—too many stories from ancient times of ruthless firebenders killing people that way—he'd have to do it.

Aang nodded rapidly, his skin starting to turn red. His motion was too fluid, more of a frantic open-hand wave than an actual punch. And the firebender's power from tensing the blow at the last instant was missing. But that actually was a good thing; it was still enough to cast a red-hot arc of flame…following panicked instinct, Aang sent it right at the sound of Zuko's voice. Thinking fast, Zuko managed to block it. At least, long enough to rapidly draw in the heat energy and channel it. Making a strike on the ground with his foot, he redirected it into a line of fire that almost right away burned itself out on the bare rock.

Aang stared at the smoking dark scorch on the ground, coughing from the irritation of the intense heat in his lungs. "Er…sorry?" he finally managed.

Zuko sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. Obviously teaching the Avatar was going to take some planning and adaptation. "You're all right?" Small skin burns and irritated lungs were inevitable; they happened to every novice. Though he was almost sure if he sent Aang for healing Katara was going to be more than a bit upset. She seemed pretty deeply in love with the Avatar, after all. He was half-surprised she hadn't charged out of her hidey-hole already.

Aang looked at his hands for a moment, tried clearing his throat only to start coughing again. "Yeah. A little sore." His voice had a raspy edge: definitely not good.

"Take my uncle's advice; tea can cure pretty much anything." Mallow root and red lotus flower tea, specifically. "I've got some I can give you for your throat. Every firebender keeps some around. Drink it and rest up until tomorrow. You can't bend fire if you can't breathe."

"I didn't mean to…"

Most masters let their pupil's first injuries heal without remedy. That made the pain into a harsh demonstration to drive home the dangers of reckless firebending. Aang didn't need that lesson, and there was no time to waste with him unable to practice. Besides, he was starting to wonder if that kind of suffering taught fear of fire more than it taught respect. "Mistakes happen. They'll happen again. Studying firebending always means some pain, because fire hurts easily. But now I know your firebending lessons are going to be in the late afternoon. At least, until you have better control." Close to sundown would be best, when there was little sun to channel energy from. He really didn't want to think what could happen. He'd been lucky today with such a basic exercise: he'd been half-tempted to try and accelerate Aang's training, assuming he knew something about self-control already. He was ready to thank any benevolent spirit he could think of that he'd decided to play it safe. With the Avatar's raw power...something ugly and involving their mutual total immolation wouldn't have been out of the question.

"And mornings and afternoons?" Aang asked, looking hopeful for some free time.

"I need to study my own firebending in the morning." Whatever part he had to play when the end came, best that he was ready. "And you have three other elements to practice. Today, guess I'm going hunting for stuff to make medicines." He had the feeling he was going to need a lot of burn salve for the both of them. "Herbs aren't the kind of information on the Fire Nation that's of use to you right now, though."

At least the coughing had stopped, and Aang managed to bow formally. "But any information about firebending might be useful. Thank you for the lesson, Sifu Zuko."

Polite even when he was in pain; showing no sign of his discomfort. Any son of the Fire Nation, raised to the same philosophy, had to respect that. He responded with the same courtesy, bowing in return. "Thank you for your attention, Pupil Aang." He moved towards the cliff edge and picked up the rope as Aang reached for his glider. "Now let's go get you patched up."