FOREWORD
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING... :(
THANKS: To Mydogs2 for being a wondeful BETA, and suffering through revising this thing.
SUMMARY: Postwar fic. Six years have passed since the fall of Ozai. A lone man dressed in white robes stands
on deck as his ship approaches the southern water city, a staff in hand and a lemur perched on his shoulder.
His once youthful eyes have grown dark with pain and guilt. "At least they don't know who I am, huh Momo?
TO OLDER READERS: This version has an added chapter 6.5 along with the new chapters 15 and 16.
TO ALL READERS: There is an alternate M rated version that will be posted when the story is done.