Anyone who had seen Zuko in the past few days had inevitably seen him stalking the halls of the ship without end, his swords strapped in their sheath on his back, his perpetual scowl affixed securely on his face.

Torn from the Western Air Temple to a ship flying through the stars, farther from home than he'd ever believed a person could go . . . so many miles away from everything he knew that, for all he DID know, it would take him the rest of his life to get back . . .

If he ever got back at all.

Some destiny.

The prince of the Fire Nation stalked the halls like it was his job, eyes peeled for anything more unusual than . . . well, the usual unusual of the ship.