When Aang begins to bend in sweeping walls of flame instead of licking tongues, he coaxes Zuko into shifting his firebending education up into the sunshine, on the lip of the cliff the temple nestles beneath. Before their first lesson, they stand side-by-side, aiming first fire, then water at the dry grass to burn their patch of soil bare. The young monk makes no protest beyond biting his lip.
Zuko is always wary of upsetting his pupil, but their days together have taught him that Aang is nothing if not a forgiving person. "You know, the Air Temple isn't so different from a Fire Nation practice yard. You're talented enough that you don't need the sun's help, and there isn't any smoke to mess up the stone. We don't have to practice up here."
A pause, quiet but for fallen water splashed over tattooed feet.
"Air Temples have always had the most beautiful paintings," Aang says finally. "If they get damaged by the heat, there's nobody to fix them."
The life that I have
Is all that I have
When the lessons first started, Aang flinched back from his own hands and squinted against the flames. Hesitance made him stutter, with his voice and his body, and the moment he was finished, he dropped his gaze to the floor. The others teased him a little, but they kept it gentle. Toph tried not to complain about her burns and Katara fiddled with her water flask to remind him of its presence.
With improvement came confidence, which led to more improvement. Aang was still slower than his teacher, but it was thorough rather than fearful and hints of his usual fluidity kept flashing through. At the end of the lesson, Aang called Zuko 'Sifu' and bowed to him with a smile.
Time passed. The fires grew bigger, faster, more complex. Now Aang scythes through the air with ferocious grace, matching his teacher move for move. Zuko tacks a sparring session onto the tail end of every lesson these days and Aang battles him fiercely, face darkened by a faint scowl. The rest of the group, who still like to watch occasionally, do not fail to notice.
"I worry about Aang."
Sokka snorts. "So what else is new?"
"You know what I mean!" Katara snaps. "Firebending used to bother him so much, and look at him now! After his lessons, Momo avoids him, he avoids us, and when we sit down at the fire, he just stares at it like it's a—a pet! And have you seen the look on his face when he's practicing? It's… to be honest, it's getting a little scary."
The others don't answer. Katara throws her hands in the air and turns to leave. Before she can make her escape, Teo rolls up beside her, catching her hand.
"I've seen him, too," he says quietly. "After the training sessions, the ones that worry you guys. He grabs his glider and flies off as soon as he can get away with it. Gliding takes all your concentration, and there's nothing out there but you and the sky. It's the best way to recover when something's on your mind. Trust me on this one," he adds, smiling, and Katara loosens up just enough to smile tightly back. Teo lets go of her hand.
"It bothers him, Katara. But he has to be the Avatar first and Aang second, and he won't let himself forget that. I don't know if I could do the same if I were in his position. Could you?"
And the life that I have
Is yours.
His first day in the Fire Nation, Sokka kept getting lightheaded with panic whenever he had time to think. They were in the Fire Nation, the heart of the evil empire that had reduced the Southern Water Tribe to a few snowy huts' worth of women, children, and old people. In moments of stress, he had to fight not to close his eyes. They were the same color as his sister's, he knew—ice blue. Not native. Not inconspicuous. Not a good color in an empire of Fire Nation citizens who would kill him on sight if they guessed. Sokka thought he'd never lose the feeling of walking the ice's edge in late summer.
His first day in the Fire Nation, Aang wandered off and somehow wound up enrolled in school. He had a good time, was perfectly at ease, and returned exhilarated by the experience of having a normal day and meeting new people who liked him. Sokka would have laughed if he hadn't been fighting the urge to chain Aang to the floor.
Somehow, they ended up with forty Fire Nation citizens crowded into their secret lair. Sokka still isn't sure how this happened, but it did, and he wondered dazedly for a time why on earth they'd spent so much effort keeping Aang alive.
As he watched, one of the younger students attempted to covertly pick his nose. When a pretty girl caught him at it, he blushed a red that rivaled that of his sash and hurried away to the other side of the cave.
Sokka looked around again. He wasn't surrounded by future Fire Nation soldiers anymore. He was in a crowd of kids in red clothes.
Of course, something went terribly, horribly wrong, and they had to leave in a hurry, and Sokka still tells Aang he was crazy for even coming up with the idea. However, after that night, he could look people in the eye again.
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
"What are you gonna do when the war's over?" asks Toph.
Aang's flat on his back, relaxing on the cool tile after a hard day's practice. She can feel him shrug through the soles of her still-tender feet.
"What Avatars usually do, probably. Would you want to come with me?"
She hasn't thought about that, doesn't want to just yet. "Depends. What do Avatars usually do when they're not pretending to be icicles?"
"They are arbiters," says Zuko. His voice is pitched low, the way it usually does when he speaks from memory. "The Avatar is supposed to maintain balance in the world. They travel from place to place as needed, helping where they can, settling disputes. They keep the peace."
"So, basically, he's going to be doing the same thing that he's done since the Snow People busted you out."
Aang laughs. "I guess so! It'll be fun, I promise. For one thing, nobody will be trying to capture us. And we can do whatever we want."
Toph doesn't argue, and neither does Zuko. They are in the presence of an incurable optimist, and sometimes even they have indulge in a little idle speculation.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
With Aang unconscious and the ship running on a skeleton crew of tired, nervous people, belowdecks was always too quiet for her taste. It was unbearable at night, when there was no one to talk to her. After dark, the ship's metal deck was too cold to sit comfortably on for long. Toph's solution was to curl up with a blanket on a coil of rope and listen to the water. Being seasick and disoriented helped her forget how much the world sucked for a while.
"What's up, dirtbender?"
She didn't even sense Sokka's approach. "You say that like it's a bad thing, O Flinger of Scrap Metal. Go away."
He didn't answer. Toph laid her palm against the deck and felt him squat down on his toes, rocking gently on them with the motion of the waves. It was kind of impressive, she had to admit. It would be even more impressive if he got up and left.
Beside her, Sokka started whistling.
"Quit it!"
He quit.
"What if he dies?"
Sokka lost his rhythm and tipped over. Cursing, he arranged himself into a lotus position beside her, and Toph withdrew her hand to the warmth of her lap. "That's what's on your mind? Come on, who are you kidding? He won't. He can't. He's the Avatar. Not only is he the best bender in existence—except for the firebending—but he's been through more crazy magic spirit weirdness than ordinary people like us could ever hope not to deal with. One little Fire Lord? Not a problem."
"You're not answering the question."
"That's because it's stupid," he told her. "Aang really is a great bender, and he's pretty smart sometimes. And he's the Avatar. They're like boomerangs, Toph: they always come back."
When Toph feels Aang's heartbeat flutter with worry, she remembers Sokka's reassurance. Sometimes, it's actually comforting.
Yet death will be but a pause.
The Duke tips his helmet back in order to stare at Aang in befuddlement. "What? You don't have to apologize, Aang. Most of 'em have gone to jail before. Everything will be okay."
"But it isn't!" he cries. "I failed! I couldn't find the Fire Lord, I couldn't defeat Azula, and I couldn't even save your friends! Seems like I always mess up when it matters most."
"Not true, Avatar Aang." Sokka leans against a pillar, ticking off points on his fingers. "Let's see, you gave up your freedom to save the Southern Water Tribe, saved my life when I was caught in that storm, beat the Fire Nation navy at the North Pole—"
"Kept your promise," says Katara. "I didn't know how to waterbend properly before you took me to the Northern Water Tribe."
"You got me out of my parents' house. And since I know how to bend metal because I joined up with you guys, I'm basically the greatest earthbender ever now. Personally, that guarantees your position as one of my favorite people." To illustrate her point, Toph punches him in the arm.
The Duke nods in solemn agreement. "We were worried about Jet when he was planning the thing with the dam. You kept us from being bad people."
Aang shook his head, waving his hands in denial. "But—that's not—"
"My dad might've been making weapons for the Fire Nation still if it weren't for you guys. And we lightened up on the reconstruction right after you visited. You were right; the temple really is kind of cool. My dad got into painting once he had a good look at the murals. You saved him, Aang."
"You rescued my dad, too," says Haru. "I doubt he even minds being in prison right now, because you gave my people back their hope."
Aang keeps looking around at his friends as though they've sprouted extra heads. Zuko alone is silent, standing at the far edge of the temple platform. In desperation, he calls out, "Well, what about you, Zuko? What did I do besides make it impossible for you to go home?"
"Restored my honor."
"Tough to argue with that one," Sokka points out.
More confused than ever, Aang shakes his head, turning away from the crowd. "But I can't…"
Katara grabs his shoulders, forcing him steady. "You came back. You spoke to people, showed them a different way of looking at the world. You really don't know what kind of hope you inspire in people, Aang," Katara says, half laughing. "Even if we don't beat the Fire Lord, you've made sure that somebody will, because they've met you."
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
Author's Note: "The Life That I Have" is a poem by Leo Marks, a WWII cryptographer. Initially written when his sweetheart died in a plane crash, he later bequeathed it to Violette Szabo, a spy who needed a poem to encrypt her messages. She was caught and executed in 1945.