The salty tang of the harbor intensified as Nathan navigated the bustling docks. His keen eyes scanned the vessels, finally settling on a squat metal cruiser half the size of the sleek warships he was accustomed to. Its utilitarian design contrasted sharply with the ornately carved wooden boats surrounding it.
As he drew closer, gruff shouts were carried on the wind. A Fire Nation officer, clad in black and red navy armor, barked orders at his crew, their movements noticeably sluggish. Nathan approached him, his imposing stature drawing a surprised gasp and a quick step back from the officer.
“Excuse me. Are you the captain of this ship?” he asked the man.
“You would be correct,” the officer stammered, puffing out his chest in a failed attempt to regain composure. “Who might you be?”
“Nathan,” he replied, his voice firm. “Prince Ozai sent me.”
“So you’re the one my superior talked about?” The officer scrutinized him, his brow furrowing as he took in Nathan’s imposing physique. “I see… Do you have the scroll?”
Nathan produced the scroll from his sash, the seal glinting in the afternoon sun. The officer unfurled it, his gaze lingering on the contents before finally relaxing his posture.
“Everything seems to be in order,” he conceded, extending a hand. “Captain Mao, at your service. Welcome aboard, Nathan. We set sail in half an hour. Feel free to explore a bit more if you have any last-minute errands.”
Nathan shook his head, his gaze sweeping across the sluggish crew. “I’d rather rest. Could you direct me to my quarters?”
“Certainly.” Mao barked an order, and a fully armored soldier scurried towards them. “Escort this gentleman to a cabin.”
“Yes, sir,” the soldier replied.
“Hold a moment, Captain,” Nathan interjected before the soldier could approach. “One question before I go.”
Mao’s irritation flared, a crease forming on his forehead. “What is it?”
“How long is the trip to the island going to take?”
Mao hesitated, scratching his chin. “Five to six hours, give or take. Weather permitting, of course. Looks like clear skies for now.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Nathan acknowledged, turning towards the soldier. “Lead the way.”
As they ascended the gangway, the faint murmur of Mao’s voice drifted on the salty breeze.
“Where the hell are Taroh and his gang of misfits?”
Nathan mentally sighed, his head slumping.
‘I knew it. So, that’s the “squad” accompanying me.’
-=-
The steel walls of his quarters offered little comfort. Throughout the journey, Nathan employed his seismic sense in quiet practice. Barefoot, he paced the metal floor, sending subtle vibrations that resonated through the hull. This allowed him to perceive the “earth” within the metal, effectively mapping the positions of everyone aboard. Most notably, he pinpointed the familiar outlines of Taroh and his men in their quarters.
‘These are the guys who are supposed to watch my back? More likely we’ll be at each other’s throats.’ Nathan clicked his tongue. ‘This is going to be a pain in my ass.’
His musings were abruptly interrupted by a firm rap on the door. With a groan, he opened it to find a Fire Nation soldier standing ramrod straight.
“We’ve arrived at our destination, sir,” the soldier announced, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Nathan’s youthful face, hidden in the dim light.
A sardonic smile played on Nathan’s lips. ‘Although… They might change their tune once they see me fight.’
He thanked the soldier, grabbed his belongings, and headed towards the deck. A half-moon hung in the dark sky above, casting an ethereal glow on the approaching island. At the front of the deck, Mao held a telescope to his eye.
“So it really is you,” a familiar, irritating voice said behind him.
Sighing, Nathan turned around and gave Taroh a dull stare after glancing at his bandaged hand.
“I don’t like the fact that we’re working together, either.”
“Work together?” A mocking smile played on his Taroh’s lips. “As if. We’ll be going our separate ways. You can go look for the spies by yourself. Let’s see how well that works for you.”
The corner of Nathan’s lips rose. Taroh just confirmed something for him. “Works for me.”
“You two, stop arguing. We’re approaching the island,” Mao commanded sternly.
Spitting at the floor near Nathan’s feet, Taroh glared before walking away.
Mao sighed. “I feel sorry for you. Working with that guy is close to impossible. Aside from that, he and his group aren’t exactly the competent types,” he said as he put down the telescope and faced Nathan. “I heard you were the one who broke his hand during an altercation. That true?”
Nathan wordlessly nodded his head.
“Ha!” Mao laughed. “Nice job. The bastard deserves it after all the trouble he’s caused.”
It was good to know he wasn’t the only one tired of dealing with Taroh.
“How long have you known him?” Nathan asked.
“Too long. He wasn’t this much of a prick when he first joined, but over the years, he turned into the filthy piece of shit that just spat on my deck without hesitation.”
Perhaps he could use this opportunity to get answers for some questions he had.
“I heard a rumor that the Fire Nation’s forces were spread thin because of the siege of Ba Sing Se. Is that true?” Nathan asked.
“Well, that isn’t too far from the truth,” Mao said as he went back to using his telescope. “The front lines are brutal. Even with the Dragon of the West leading the army, we lost a lot of good men to the siege. But don’t worry. Last I heard, General Iroh finally breached the Outer Wall. Taking over Ba Sing Se won’t be long now.”
That information intrigued and worried Nathan. If he remembered right, it was during or after breaching the wall that Iroh’s son, Lu Ten, died. The weight of that tragic loss was too much for Iroh to bear, extinguishing his desire to fight and prompting him to order a retreat for his armies.
‘However, this timing really is almost too perfect…’
Nathan’s mind raced as he connected the dots in his head.
‘Knowing Ozai, he most likely understands how much Iroh loves his son, and if he wanted a better chance to become Fire Lord, he would need Iroh out of the way. Without an heir, Iroh’s candidacy as Fire Lord becomes questionable, giving Ozai the opportunity to convince Azulon to make him the next Fire Lord instead. Based on what happened in the show, it didn’t work, but Ursa did something to change that.’
‘Wait, that’s it…!’ His eyes widened in realisation. ‘Ursa told me about how she learned a lot from her mother, a master herbalist. That could mean she knows how to make some deadly poison. With that in mind, it makes sense why she had to leave. Azula told her about the Fire Lord’s punishment of making Ozai experience losing his first-born son. And after making a deal with him, Ozai probably forced her to leave them behind in exchange for sparing Zuko. I always thought it seemed too much of a coincidence for Azulon to die seemingly right after Ursa left.’
It all finally made sense to him as of this moment.
Ozai had likely been waiting for the right time to get rid of him. Nathan’s relationship with Azula and Zuko had been steadily improving over the years. It truly felt like he was part of their family now, and it allowed him to offset their father’s influence on them substantially. On the other hand, Ozai always looked at him like he was an eyesore, and he sometimes wondered why the man hadn’t done anything to him all this time.
It turned out the prince was just waiting for the right opportunity.
‘I’ve no doubt Ozai’s thinking he’s hitting two birds with one stone in this scenario. With Iroh and I out of the way, there would be nothing to stop him from controlling his family and becoming the Fire Lord. Unfortunately for him, he made one colossal mistake.’
Gripping the railing, cold fury surged within Nathan. He gazed at the seemingly uninhabited island in the distance, where a group of deadly assassins was most likely waiting for him.
‘He doesn’t know what I’m truly capable of.’
-=-
“Lower the boats!”
Since the ship’s presence would reveal their position to the “spies”, they had to use kayaks stored on the ship to travel the remaining distance. Taroh and his group got their own while Nathan was alone on his.
Nathan’s boat trembled as it made contact with the rough waves, and he swiftly unfastened the hooks, letting it return to the ship before setting off towards the island. The soothing ocean breeze enveloped him as he delved into a flurry of thoughts and plans.
‘How should I handle this? It’s clear that no matter what I do, Ozai will spin it in his favour. There’s no way there are actually Earth Kingdom spies on the island. It’s probably an elite group of Fire Nation soldiers or mercenaries waiting for me. In either case, even if I take them out, Ozai could say that because I did it, I’m a spy of the Earth Kingdom or a traitor of the Fire Nation. I could try to protest his claim, but it would be the word of the Fire Lord’s second son versus a nobody’s, and he could also fabricate evidence against me. Either way, I’ll become a wanted man in the Fire Nation, no matter what happens.’ He narrowed his eyes in concentration. ‘Wait. What if I just...’
While Nathan was deep in thought, the boat glided smoothly towards the shore, its arrival announced by the soft thud of the landing. To his right, the empty kayak of Taroh’s group had already been pushed further into the sand, leaving tracks and imprints behind. The footprints of their group led towards the forest.
‘They went ahead, huh?’
Nathan shortly set his boat aside as well and just before his feet hit solid ground, he took in a deep breath.
‘Time to see who else is on this island.’
Closing his eyes, he took one step forward and had the general shape of the island and those on it within moments. He could “see” Taroh’s group. However, he also detected the presence of five other people on the island. Four were waiting close to the island’s center, but one of them was near Taroh’s group, seemingly watching them from afar before running back to his comrades in a confusing pattern.
‘Five people. One of them was scouting ahead.’
Nathan opened his eyes and began sprinting to the assassins’ hiding spot.
He ghosted through the trees. Each footfall was barely a whisper, the air itself acting as a cushion between his soles and the dry forest floor. With practiced ease, he manipulated the air around him, parting a silent path and streamlining his movements, dampening the sound his clothes made.
‘It’s time to see who these assassins are.’
