Chapter Text
Azula was quick. She'd always been quick.
Too quick.
When Zuko saw her look towards Katara, lightning at her fingertips, he tried to move. Tried to react. Before he could think, he'd thrown himself into the path of her attack, her maddening laughs cackling amidst the storm of liquid fire as he tried to catch her lightning. He reached out with his fingers. Trying to catch the bolt and send it somewhere else. Anywhere else. He angled it to the sky.
And an instant before he could release it. A second too late.
His back hit the ground.
And lightning rampaged through his entire body. Singing. Screaming. He felt the electricity sear his belly inside out and char his lungs. He might have cried, but soon it was too late. The lightning ran its course. Sunk into the ground like it was supposed to, and left his body a twitching mess of agonizing pain. He lay there, for who knows how long, and listened to his sister's sickening laughs fill the courtyard.
"I'd rather have the family physician look after little Zuzu if you don't mind!"
He could hear her laugh. Her anger. Her manic frenzy that he had mistaken for an opening. He should've known she would still be Azula enough to find a way to trick him. To lie to him. Azula always lies; she'd always been this way. He just never thought it would get this bad. This unhinged.
Maybe he should've expected it. He did expect it. On some level.
He knew she'd kill him. He'd always known she wanted to. She made it abundantly clear during their childhood. Some part of him knew she was serious.
But there was a part that hoped she had been lying about that as well.
"Zuko!" Someone called out to him, and unlike how he expected it to sound, the voice was kind. It wasn't manic or mocking. It wasn't his sister.
"Katara..." He coughed up blood, blurry vision, and through his haze, he spotted a blur of blue clothes. Katara. She crouched over him, and he could see her mouth moving. Loud. Frantic. Saying something but trying to be calm about it. He felt a cold hand touch his chest. She must've been trying to heal him, but he couldn't really care. He knew it was too late.
He was always just a little too late.
Too late to stop his sister's attack.
Too late to choose his destiny in the catacombs.
Too late to search for his mother during his banishment. He could've found her all those years he wasted. Toiling after the avatar. Now he was too late. He'd never find her. He was too late.
Always too late.
"'Sorry..." he choked on liquid copper as the sky, tinged by the orange hue of the comet, blinded his eyes and burned his nostrils. He felt warm. Warm and cold all the same. He tried to spit out his words, but they came out as a choked mess. "Tell... ncle."
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't hear. It was just sounds. Blurry sounds and dancing vision. His senses were a mess, and his muscles were weak.
"Sorry..."
He felt his hands fall and his body go limp.
"Zuko? Zuko! Don't! Stay awake! I'll- I'll," Katara shook him, and he couldn't see her anymore. His head lolled lifelessly, and his eyes settled on a figure in the distance. Through the blotches of ink growing in his vision, he saw streaks of blue fire. He heard the distant mumble of crying and sobbing. He saw her.
I couldn't beat you...
Azula. His sister. Sobbing. Crying. Chained but not dead. He saw her, and the last thing he thought of before he died in his friend's arms. His last thought.
I was never able to beat you.
Was so inconsequential it didn't even matter.
When Zuko woke up, he wasn't in the spirit world. If he was even allowed to go there. He was watching the world burn, watching the comet scorch the air above, as a boy, Zuko's friend, sat quietly to his side. The air nomad's eyes were closed, and his face relaxed as he meditated. Zuko stood next to Aang and had no idea how he could've possibly gotten there.
He was pretty sure he was supposed to be dead.
"Aang?" Zuko tried asking, but got no reaction. "Hey, Aang. What's going on? Did you defeat my father? Did Katara heal me, and I just woke up?"
Still, his friend couldn't hear his voice. Didn't react at all. Zuko tried to touch Aang's shoulder, but his hand slipped straight through. Zuko screamed, and Aang didn't react to that either. All the ordeal did was reveal Zuko's skin was glowing, blueish, and transparent. He looked at it and nearly jumped out of his nonexistent skin when someone grumbled behind him. "Sit down, fool. He can't hear you."
Zuko turned, nearly fell off the rock spire he was standing upon, floating upon? Either way, he backed away, but before he could stumble off the cliff and die a second time? He was 90% sure he was a ghost. Either way, he saw his great-grandfather and stopped. Confused and hesitant.
"Avatar Roku." He wondered, as the old man huffed and patted the spot beside him. Roku was currently meditating behind Aang, sitting in the same position as the young air nomad, but with more of a focus and tenseness to his chest. More fire, less air.
"There is not much time left," Roku warned, and Zuko gulped. Taking his chances by sitting next to the old avatar and waiting. Watching. As Aang sat and meditated. Meanwhile, the silhouette of a large airship loomed amidst the distant clouds. Growing as it sailed ever closer. Aang slowly opened his eyes, and as he stood, a Fire Nation airship pierced the cover of clouds and revealed a single man standing at its bow. Zuko tensed.
And watched his father remove his Phoenix King's cloak and proceed to raze the earth asunder.
"Will he win?" Zuko asked, watching as Aang stood against the Fire Lord without any sense of fear or hesitation—Only purpose and responsibility.
Zuko felt proud in that moment.
Proud that he helped teach such a powerful bender. Proud that his friend could stand and fight where Zuko had failed. Zuko was proud of Aang.
His pride didn't last.
"I'm unsure."
Roku's words didn't let it.
"It won't matter regardless." Avatar Roku said grumpily. And while Aang rushed off to confront Zuko's father, to confront his destiny, Zuko froze.
"What do you mean?" Zuko asked, confused. He looked towards Roku, his great-grandfather, if he remembered right, and watched the scene shift. The comet faded, and a light blue sky filled the air. They now sat on a rooftop in central Calder, the Fire Nation capital, where a funeral was being held. One look showed it was his, his picture and body.
And the next showed his friends, crying, amidst the procession through the city. Katara was crying into Aang's shoulder, and Aang looked a second from joining her. Toph was biting her lip so hard it bled, eyes low, and expression hurt and in pain. Sokka's expression was stony, and his eyes closed. Holding onto Suki's hand like it was a lifeline.
And Zuko's uncle... his uncle was a ghost—A shell. A lifeless doll of his former self. Sitting at the foot of the procession's passing, without a hint of light in his eyes. He was still breathing, but everything inside his body had withered away. Snuffed out so badly it was like Lu Ten dying all over again. Uncle despaired.
"Leaves... from the vine..."
And it was all Zuko's fault.
"I do not know the future," Roku admitted, ignoring Zuko’s despair. "Only the spirits do, but they've granted me the chance to talk to you like this. To lean on their visions of possible futures. This is what they envision after your death. The world without you to take your place as Fire Lord. They see pain and suffering."
Zuko saw someone in the crowd, the parade, shout something about the 'Avatar' and the 'Royal Family's Sacrifice'. And a second later, an explosion ripped through the procession. People died. Survivors were panicking. Shouting. Aang tried to calm them down, Zuko's friends tried to respond, but soon they were dragged into a fight with Fire Nation soldiers. Remnants of the army without a leader.
"They see your death as a catalyst," Roku warned. "Without you, even if Aang wins, there is no one left to claim the throne. The Royal Family will have died or been imprisoned with your father. Or fallen into insanity with your sister. Or decayed into endless depression with your uncle. Or vanished with your mother if you want to exhaust every single option. The throne still sits empty," Roku scowled.
"The greedy will use it as a martyrdom. An excuse."
The vision faded, and Zuko was left shaken. Pale and trembling and tired. His face ghostly white as he saw Aang battling his father. Aang was losing.
"And the spirits see it working flawlessly."
And even if he was able to win, Zuko knew it would never end. Aang would always have to fight the Fire Nation. All because Zuko couldn't fulfill his destiny. He couldn't defeat his sister. He died and left the throne empty. Left his nation to descend into chaos and the ways of their predecessors. He failed.
"Why..." Zuko croaked. His eyes were wet with tears as he looked at Avatar Roku. His great-grandfather. He didn't understand. Why show him this? Was it a punishment? Because Zuko died. Now he had to know how much he'd screwed up. Haunted by his failures even in death. Zuko wanted to puke.
"Why are you showing me this?"
And Roku showed no signs of sympathy.
"Your death has marked the end of Aang's path as the Avatar." Avatar Roku grumbled. Eyes cold and dark as the old Avatar turned towards the new. "He can no longer bring balance to the four nations. Peace has become an impossibility in this era."
Zuko's head sank. His eyes were downcast. He waited.
"But the great spirits have convened. Spoken. And decided they can't wait for the next era. This war has the chance to ruin their world as well, it has already done unimaginable damage. So they've used their powers. Their influence." Roku frowned. "All they will be allowed to use in this millennium. They have bestowed upon you. You and one other."
Zuko's breath caught in his throat as Roku turned towards the harsh battle Aang and Ozai wrought. Roku sighed, voice thick with grief and weight as Aang was flung against a rock and fell. Zuko cried out, reached out, but Roku switched the vision.
"You were lucky." Avatar Roku said, and Zuko couldn't breathe. Was Aang dead? His thoughts spiraled, an inch from swallowing his psyche, before Roku's hand pressed upon his shoulder and dragged him back to the present. "They have offered a gift. A chance to fulfill your destiny, and to change the one laid out for you at this moment."
Zuko snapped his head up, and despite the knife in his chest, that Aang was indeed dead, he felt his heart swell with anticipation. Avatar Roku looked at him with sympathy and pride in his gaze, and for once, Zuko saw his great-grandfather smile.
"Great grandson," Roku said. "The spirits have chosen to revive two unfortunate souls. Lost too early in 100 years of war. One of those souls is you." Roku smiled. "And for you, Zuko. It is a chance to make amends. To shift the world's future back on course. To take your place, Fire Lord. To change the bleak fate the world now faces, you'll be able to change destiny's current trajectory. They have given you a new chance at life."
"They have?" Zuko asked, desperate. He touched his head to the ground as he begged. "Yes! Please! Tell them I said yes! I'll do anything! I will fix my mistakes! I," Zuko's voice caught in his throat, and the weight of his future crashed upon his shoulders. He worried for Aang's safety, wondering how the avatar would defeat the strongest firebender in the world. One he'd already lost to. But Zuko had faith. Faith Aang would be able to win. He wasn't the type to lose twice.
Zuko still believed in the Avatar, in his friend, no matter how daunting the task. Aang would achieve his destiny. And he would do it without question.
But Zuko... Zuko always lost. To Azula. To life. He would have to become Fire Lord. He was the one who had to stop his nation's inevitable ambitions. To convince a nation built on a century of violence that peace was not only possible, but necessary.
Zuko had to guide his nation further than the end of the war.
But Zuko had already failed countless times.
He couldn't help but think someone like him was bound to fail at that, too.
"How... how do I ensure my nation sees peace?" Zuko begged and choked on his breath. He'd already failed at the first step. Azula had won. And if Roku's vision was correct, she was just the first person who would challenge his rule. There would still be others, greedy soldiers or noblemen who couldn't accept an end to war. They'd fight, and he'd have to quell their anger. He'd have to stop their rise and ambitions.
"Please... Avatar Roku... Great Grandfather..."
So Zuko begged for guidance. For help. For anything.
"Guide me. I beseech you."
And eventually, after an eternity, Roku responded.
"...Very well."
And when Zuko looked up, the vision had changed once more.
"There is only one person who can derail your destiny. One who stands at the crossroads of peace and chaos. As long as they exist, you will never be able to achieve your destiny." Roku said solemnly, as Zuko looked around an ancient Fire Nation throne room. His eyes were wide as he watched a young Roku confront a young Sozin, pushing the ancient fire lord to the brink and rearing his fist back, preparing the final blow. Zuko saw Roku's eyes flick towards the throne, and thought for a moment the Avatar would shift his aim.
"You must do what I failed to do, Great Grandson."
But at the last moment, Roku closed his eyes, and aimed for Sozin.
"That is the only way to salvage your destiny."
And the Fire Lord who ushered the 100 years War, died before he ever got the chance to start it.
The next moment, Zuko blinked, and it was like the world had shifted. He wasn't sitting next to Roku anymore. He didn't even feel like himself anymore. Everything about everything had changed as he got tossed from whatever weirdness he had faced as a ghost. It was like waking up from a dream he hadn't even realized he'd been in. He gasped.
And breathed. Really breathed.
And realized he wasn't dead. Realized he wasn't dreaming. It was so jarring, a mere blink and his entire reality had turned upside down. He felt oddly rejuvenated. His muscles weren't sizzling, his lungs weren't smothered, and his stomach wasn't burning. He didn't feel electrocuted at all, and even more than that, the world looked brighter. Less blurry.
"Huh..."
He blinked.
"What... what's..."
And realized he actually could blink. Easily. Without feeling the skin on his face stretch and crinkle against old scars. He blinked both eyes again. And he could blink fully, without having half his vision blurred and hazy. He looked up at the ceiling and realized he could clearly see the left half of it without turning his head. His brain stopped working for a few moments before he jumped out of the bed. Bed? Why was he in bed? Why wasn't he in the courtyard?
"Ow!"
And why was it so high off the ground? "Agni!" Zuko cursed as his knee banged against the floor. He winced and held his bruised knee. His feet hadn't been where he'd expected them to be, and his center of weight hadn't been what it was just a few hours ago. Was it his injuries? And why did someone make a bed this stupidly high? It was stupid. Stupid.
"What in Agni is going on..." He hissed, rolling to his feet as he tried to move towards the mirror at the edge of his room. His room? Why was he in his old room? Was that his bed? Who changed the legs? Did Katara heal him? Did the sages move him here after the Agni Kai? What of Aang? Was he still fighting? Or had he won already? Was the war over?
"Where..." He gulped, testing his voice as it came out less dry than he expected. He gulped as he pushed aside his growing questions, moving in a body that felt so other it was impossible to keep his feet from swaying under his weight. Must be the injuries. He stumbled. Until he got to the mirror, and he saw his reflection.
And every muscle in his body turned to stone.
"What..." he whispered breathlessly. In disbelief. He expected to be covered in bandages. Or scars or pain. Or something, anything other than nothing. He was spotless, no sign of the electricity that had coursed through his body. That was impossible. Even Katara wasn't that good of a healer, and he was certain she'd already used all her spirit water. It was impossible.
"How..."
And even if she had her spirit water, turning someone back to a kid wasn't something she could do. How old was he? 8? 9? What was going on?
"What's going on..." he murmured, touching the mirror like it was a trick. He looked at his fingers. Smaller than they'd been during the Agni Kai. He looked down, his legs shorter than the Agni Kai. He looked at the mirror and saw his body. Younger than during the Agni Kai, and let out a disbelieving laugh. He couldn't believe it. He was younger.
Years younger.
What was he supposed to do with this?
"Mai's going to kill me..." Zuko groaned as he held his head in his hands. Trying not to panic. He settled into meditation, the same stance his uncle taught him, and breathed. Okay. So Agni played a bit of a prank on him. Or spirit wishes came with some unsaid consequences or risks or something. Perhaps Agni was trying to revert his body back to before it was injured and overshot it? Whatever. It was fine. Fine! So Zuko became a kid? At least he was alive. Agni even healed his scar. That was good. Great!
So happy!
He could figure out the logistical side of things later.
He still had to figure out if Aang was okay...
Wait? Oh Agni, no. Please no. If Aang turned into an even younger kid, then he'd have no chance against his father. Zuko had to hurry. The palace wasn't safe. His father- No. No! Agni wouldn't bring Aang back as a toddler just to die a second time. That was stupid. The de-aging must be Zuko's exclusive punishment. Aang had probably gotten something different. Maybe hair he couldn't shave?
Whatever. The point was, Aang had to be alive. The problem was that Zuko didn't know if he was still fighting. He had to hurry. He stood up to spring out of the room and to the nearest air balloon, before his little legs reminded him of his current predicament.
"Right..." Zuko frowned as he sat back down. What else could he do? Show up as a kid? He'd just get in the way. Or die before he had the chance to.
No, Zuko had to wait. If he was lucky, Katara had already taken Appa to try and find Aang. So the most Zuko could do was wait. Wait and hide so no rumors spread. Katara wouldn't leave him defenseless, in a palace that was chock-full of people more than willing to take advantage of his weakened state.
He breathed. Deep. Controlled. In through his nose and out through his mouth. He was calmer now. He had to be calm now. Like uncle. He breathed.
And loosened the tension in his shoulders.
His condition must not be well-known. Maybe a few sages knew of it, the good ones. The ones that valued tradition over all else, so they'd respect the Agni Kai regardless of how old he was. And in that case, he could trust Katara to have left him in good hands. He'd be safe in this room for a few days at least.
Which gave him a few days to reacquaint himself with his childhood body.
And a few days to figure out what he was going to do for the next eight years.
"Uncle's gonna laugh his heart out." Zuko groaned, trying to focus on his breathing as his lips thinned. One thing Zuko was certain of, regardless of how insufferable Uncle would be about the whole thing, Zuko needed to tell his uncle what happened. As soon as possible. If he were stuck as a kid, then Uncle would have to act as regent for the next 8 years. Otherwise, he'd be the youngest Fire lord in history, and his reign would also probably be the shortest.
Assassinating an 8-year-old Fire Lord just sounded too easy. Like laughably easy.
Yeah. Uncle would have to be regent. He'd be sad that his tea shop would be put on hold, but the Fire Nation needed a leader. A strong leader.
Zuko was a kid, his father was dead or in chains if Aang somehow managed to defeat him without killing him like he said he would, and Azula was stuck out in the courtyard. Too insane to cope with what had already happened. Uncle was the only candidate. The best candidate, actually.
The Fire Nation still loved Uncle.
For the most part.
Some people probably still believed he was a traitor, but most still knew Uncle as the Dragon of the West. Decades as a war hero hadn't been so easily erased.
Uncle would be able to hold things over as Regent until Zuko grew old enough. And then he'd take his place as Fire Lord. He'd guide his people through a peaceful era with Aang by his side. They'd bring balance to the four nations, and Zuko would follow Roku's advice and assure that his destiny...
He'd follow Roku's advice... and...
"What did Roku want me to do exactly?" Zuko frowned, raising his eyelids and glancing at the mirror. Roku had shown him an image of what may have happened had he killed Sozin. His best friend. The war would have ended. Peace would have been achieved before it was ever lost. But Zuko didn't have someone blocking his destiny anymore.
Unless Father was still alive.
But defeating Father was Aang's destiny.
If he couldn't do it, then who else-
"Zuzu." A light, childish voice rang in Zuko's ears as he heard a silent creak of his lacquer door. And instantly, without warning or question, all of Zuko's thoughts collapsed. His eyes snapped open while his breathing, once steady and relaxed, tensed. His breath shuddered, and he looked at the mirror, deathly afraid to look away. Deathly terrified.
"Agni, so it was you making all that noise. Dumb dumb." Her exasperation rang in his head, and he couldn't for a second believe it was anywhere else but inside his head. Her words couldn't be anything but a distant memory. An echo long forgotten. He refused to believe it was anything other than a twisted memory resurfacing. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He was silent. He stared quietly at his reflection, waiting for the nightmare to pass.
"Hey Zuzu? Can you hear me?"
It never did. And quick and poised footsteps. Balanced to the smallest twitch of her toes, moved closer and closer. Zuko looked at the mirror, frozen, horrified, and unwilling to move a single inch out of unrelenting fear. His breath came out in shallow, panicked huffs, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the mirror. Watching as a girl poked her head into frame, looking at the mirror with a tilted head. Her curiosity quickly shifted to a scowl.
"What the hell, Zuzu?" She glared at him, and it looked so familiar he almost felt better. But then she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. And Zuko couldn't breathe anymore. His lungs were starting to spasm with phantom pains. He felt the ghost of electricity dancing along his skin and the echo of her laughter ringing in his ears. He froze.
"What gives?" She huffed. "I thought you were looking at something cool. Why are you staring at your ugly reflection? And why were you so loud?"
Then Azula stepped between him and the mirror. Tone unimpressed and posture unamused. She scowled and waved her hand in front of his face.
"Hello? Dumb dumb? Are you there?" She mocked, and Zuko couldn't respond. She was so young. Too young. Younger than he was. He'd forgotten she had looked this young once. He looked at her limbs, her body, how small it was compared to before. How unreliable it was to the weapon it would become.
"Zuzu? Seriously? Did you break already?"
And in that instant, that moment, he realized she was younger than she used to be. Smaller. Tinier. Weaker. But still Azula. Undoubtedly Azula.
And she was certainly not brought back by the spirits. She hadn't even died. He saw her. So that meant Agni hadn't turned his body back in time.
Agni had sent Zuko back in time. Years ago. Before he was banished. Before he earned his scar. Before the comet or his Agni Kai with Azula.
Zuko was in the past
And in that moment, he realized it. He heard it. Roku's warning, the memory of his words: Do what I failed to do. Zuko blinked and saw Sozin's death.
"Well, whatever." His sister's unimpressed face flashed over Sozin's corpse, and she turned without noticing Zuko's haunted expression. He sucked in a breath as he watched Azula, his younger, kid, sister, saunter towards the door without a hint of doubt.
"Just quit making so much noise, Zuzu." She yawned quietly, boredom and exasperation creeping into her tone as she shared her thoughts.
"It's annoying."
Azula rolled her eyes and opened the door, before stepping out into the hall. She didn't look back when she shut the door behind her. She simply mocked him one last time before shutting it with a click, and Zuko had never been so relieved to see her go.
"Some of us actually have training tomorrow. Dumb dumb."
If she'd seen him doubled over, vomiting the contents of his stomach into a puddle on the floor, he was certain she would've mocked him for that, too.