Toph loved her friends. But she was beginning to suspect they were all secretly conspiring to find new and more gut-wrenching modes of transportation for her.

Queasily swaying up and down on an unstable metal tub had been only a slight improvement over flying blind while desperately clinging to the back of an inflated shag carpet, which was itself rivaled by the knowledge that one was encased completely in an aquatic environment held back only by the relatively thin walls of an experimental underwater apparatus. Aang's euphoric descriptions of exhilarating vistas stretching from one horizon to the next never included her own ordeals of disorientation, nausea, sinus pressure headaches, and nigh uncontrollable urges to scream. Still, in spite of all this, Toph felt proud to have held up as well as she did.

It was a very sullen Earthbender who was now sweating on the back of an undulating cross between a hawk and a gecko. Part of it was due to the heat that radiated off this thing in waves. The rest came from shivering heartfelt fear. Her boon companion Iroh, in his infinite wisdom, had managed to concoct a means of travel that combined heaving motion with the bone-quaking terror of being rendered insensate and childishly dependent on the mood of a large temperamental beast who could possibly drop your fragile body into a fatal environment. You go, Iroh, she thought! Way to keep up that family legacy of endlessly inventive cruelty.

The hapless terra former was resolved to seek vengeance for this little escapade the moment her feet touched solid earth once more.

As if reading her mind, she heard her companion speak.

"I wish you hadn't come with me, Toph."

The sound of the wind and endless beating of wings made it necessary to raise their voices somewhat. Only in the last few minutes had he been able to calm her with assurances from both rider and mount to the point where Toph could keep her decibel level below screaming pitch. As it was, she managed to sound like a singing gopher instead of a unagi.

"My wish is to see you buried to your ankles in dirt. Upside-down! Guess which one of us will get our wish as soon as we touch earth?!"

She had taken every attempt at making conversation on his part as an excuse to vent her hostility towards this situation. Despite Iroh's assurances that the dragon Shao was not only a reliable mount but easily wide enough to accommodate them both, she had not been able to rid herself of the impression that she was about to slide off its back at any moment. At least with Appa, you could grab a hank of fur in each hand and hold on for dear life. This sky lizard was completely hairless along its trunk. She had a vague recollection of feathery tufts sprouting around the head. But maneuvering to that spot would require her to release her death-grip on one of the malleable spines protruding from its back. And this, Toph would not do.

In spite of trusting one another with their lives, neither the girl nor her aged male counterpart had been comfortable with the notion of him holding her on his lap during this journey. There was no one to see or make assumptions, but why make an issue where one didn't exist? Their relationship was tenuous enough as it was right now without adding that into the mix. An offer to sit beside him had been firmly rebuked, on the grounds (some ground, any ground, please!) that she was not going to risk one of them dragging the other over if they began to slide off the dragon's spine. So the old general remained seated cross-legged between two combs, while the little blind waif held firmly to the base of another protuberance one space up.

She was definitely starting to feel sick.

Once again, the Amazing Iroh took that moment to demonstrate his telepathic abilities.

"You know, on a ship, if the rocking starts to make you feel ill, you should focus on the horizon. It helps to…"

He caught himself just as one of Toph's fists unclenched from the soft folds of skin and slowly rose over her head. She held it there, white-knuckled and trembling, speaking without words. When it was clear by his silence that he was sufficiently chastised, the hand went back down to affix once more to her clumsy perch.

"I'm sorry, Toph."

After a few seconds, she gave a sharp nod of her head. Apology accepted. But her condition remained unchanged. And she did not know what to do about it.

"Toph?"

He had better not point out her unilateral decision to take this trip again, or she would do her level best to throw up on him.

"I understand if you might need some help to keep from losing your dinner."

This was growing uncanny.

"Would you like to hear a story?"

That caught her attention.

When she was younger, one of her more resilient nursemaids (she had lasted a whole month) happened to labor under the impression that children could not be put to bed without the aid of a story. Upon leaving the employ of the Bei Fong family for reasons unspecified, unbeknownst to Toph, while a significant financial compensation from her parents had served to keep said employee from revealing to anyone the existence of their little secret, her next employers' darlings were kept entertained by the story of the mysterious little blind girl who could disappear at will and took delight in transporting people miles away from their beds in the middle of the night without any indication of how this was accomplished or evidence to prove she was indeed at fault. Still, leaving that little nugget of truth aside, the only real reminder of this person having existed in Toph's life was a profound appreciation for how storytelling could keep a person wide awake no matter how tired one might feel. Considering that going to sleep in her current position was a fear that, no matter how unlikely that occurrence, kept her heart constantly beating at a slightly elevated pace, the notion of a story was met with unabashed enthusiasm.

"I hope it's a good one."

She could hear Iroh give a half-hearted chuckle. "Actually, it is a true story. Whether or not you find it to be of interest depends entirely on my gifts as a story-teller."

He began to tell it then.

And as she listened, the gusting wind and constant movement began to gradually recede into the periphery of her awareness.


"No!" Zuko shouted.

"Yes," Azula insisted.

"NO!"

"Yes!"

"NO!!"

"YES!"

"I'M DONE TALKING TO YOU!" The eight-year old prince of the Fire Nation dropped to the ground of their family garden, crossing his arms and adopting an expression of sullen petulance.

His little sister rolled her eyes condescendingly. This was just typical of Zuko. He huffed and stormed, and if she ever so much as raised a hand to her brow, he accused her of plotting against him. It wasn't true. She didn't have something devious in mind all the time.

Azula preferred to think of her ideas as 'brilliant.'

The golden-eyed prodigy began to pace slowly around her childish elder. He kept turning his head at what must be an uncomfortable angle to keep her in view, and whipping it quickly around, as though afraid of losing sight of her.

Actually, keeping Zuko anxious was one of her favorite games. But right now, she had something much more inspired in mind.

"You are going to do it, Zuzu. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

HA! Immediate response. She knew that would get him.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to cut off all my hair."

His brow furrowed in consternation. "So what?"

Big dummy. He could never keep up with her at thinking. Or firebending. Or anything!

"I'll cut it off, and then I'll tell Mother and Father that YOU did it while I was taking a nap."

He sprang up, whirling about to face her. "NO YOU WILL NOT!"

"Yes I will!" She danced a few paces away from him. Not that Zuko would hurt her, but it didn't matter, because he could never catch her. She was always too quick for him.

Apparently he knew better than to make the attempt, now. "They're never going to believe you! Everybody knows you lie all the time. They all laugh at you about it. AzuLiar! That's what they all call you! Even Mother and Father. AZULIAR!"

That hurt.

That made Azula angry.

He should know better than to make her angry. What came next wouldn't be her fault!

The red-draped arm rose, middle and index fingers pointing skyward. The air she drew into her lungs became a weapon, fired by rage, honed by her undeniable talent.

A blast of flame roared up from the earth, right in front of Zuko. He cried out and fell back, flinging up his arms to shield his face. She called forth a second updraft. The royal prince scuttled back on all fours like an octopus-crab, and she followed him. Azula was focused, eyes wide, mouth set in a grim line. He shouldn't laugh at her! NOBODY got to laugh at her! HE was the joke, not her, a stupid little failure, Mother's favorite just because he was born first! Father knew! He would understand, he would forgive her. She was BETTER than Zuko!

Her only brother punched out his fist in his own attempt at Firebending. The result was driven mainly by fear; it was a candle's flame compared to her swarming abundance of rage and recrimination. A sweep of her leg dispelled his meager defense, scattering burning fragments of the siblings' quarrel about the garden. She didn't know fear! Azula was hate without fear! The purity, the clarity, the self!

Zuko had been driven back against the small pond at the end of the enclosed arboretum. His hands splashed down in the rim, and he jerked to a halt. Like a little kitten, afraid of getting wet. Azula stared into his eyes. There were tears in them. He was looking at her like she was a stranger. They had the same eye color. Just like Father. That made her pause. She wouldn't be at fault. No, it was all up to Zuko now. If he jumped back in the water, he would be spared. Drenched and humiliated, but alive. If he didn't, if her brother couldn't even be depended on to figure out something so simple, then…

No more thinking! It was time to see!

Zuko gazed at his sister in horror. There was no expression in her face. She looked like a sleepwalker. Her pupils were unnaturally wide, and they seemed to glow, the whites visible around them. He wanted to cry out, tell her to stop, or call for their Mother. But nothing came. His breath was gone. Not even enough for Firebending.

Azula drew her arm back, orange flames licking at her fingers. The sight filled his vision. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the dancing sparks.

I'm going to die, he thought.

"FIRE!!"

A hand grabbed Azula's arm, spinning her about with a gasp. She registered the sensation of being lifted off her feet then, and before she knew it, the princess found herself flung over the shoulder of a man in a Fire Nation military uniform.

"FIRE!" the voice repeated. "THE PRINCESS IS ON FIRE! HELP!"

Azula realized who it was then, but before she could catch her breath…

"I WILL SAVE YOU, PRINCESS!"

He bent forward and chucked her into the pool.

The sodden adolescent burst to the surface with a great intake of air, floundering and spitting out water. Now in the same position as Zuko, she stared agape at the unexpected intruder grinning down on them both.

Her brother spoke first.

"Cousin Lu Ten!"

The tall colonel gave them a crisp salute, beaming from ear to ear. His lion-gold eyes were perpetually half-lidded, giving their uncle's heir an expression made up of equal parts serenity and amusement. A royal Fire crown kept gleaming black hair firmly anchored in a military topknot. The firm, aristocratic angles of his smooth face bespoke of the formidable effect those features had on the opposite sex.

Before their significantly older war-hero relative, both of his cousins found themselves feeling distinctly abashed; but at the same time, any thoughts of animosity were swiftly swept to the backs of their minds.

However, even in the face of familial affection, all children know their roles. So it was that Zuko jabbed a finger back towards his sister and quickly blurted out, "She started it!"

Azula hurriedly came to her feet, wringing the moisture out of her sodden sleeves.

"I was just playing," the girl muttered sulkily. She turned her head away to appear unrepentant, but found her eyes drifting unwillingly to her cousin's handsome face all the same, searching for any trace of disapproval.

"Ah, my dear little Azula," he clucked and waggled a finger remonstratively. "The problem with you is, you never let anyone else know the rules of your games! We're all left running in circles, trying to keep up! You're just too clever for us, little cousin. Isn't that right, Zuko?"

He held out a hand towards the elder sibling, who reached up to take it, allowing Lu Ten to lift him back on his feet. Azula could not disguise her disappointment at his receiving special attention.

"She's not clever!" Zuko insisted as he strove to right himself. "All she does is…"

A widening of the smirk was all the warning he got. Suddenly Lu Ten yanked his hand from Zuko's slippery grip. The startled young noble wind-milled his arms in an attempt to regain his balance.

The attempt ended in failure, as he fell backwards into the pond with a splash.

"AAAHH!" the princeling raged while his sister laughed, churning the water with his fists. "You did that on purpose!" Lu Ten only chuckled.

"Brother and sister should not squabble. It is a precious gift you both have been given, to be blessed with an ally you can depend on and a partner in crime you can always turn to. Being so close to one another in years, there is on one else in the world you can expect to help you in furthering your designs, be they noble or ignoble."

Facing their chastising first cousin, the pair of royals saw something behind him. They both exchanged glances. And then, in that unspoken connection some siblings share, they both agreed to say nothing of it. Lu Ten continued in his pedantic and facetious instruction.

"Were I to have been given a sibling, you can rest assured that I would treat them with the courtesy and esteem due the child of my noble parents."

"I am most pleased to hear that, my son."

Lu Ten blinked, but before he could make a move, two hands gave a mighty push from behind, and the armor-clad dignitary flew forwards to land face-first in the water.

Slowly, with as much circumspection as he could muster, the future Firelord extricated himself from the shallow depths, to be greeted by two sets of giggling children's voices and one deep, hearty chortle.

Turning about, he found the man responsible for his predicament to be none other than his own father Iroh, accompanied by his paternal uncle Ozai.

Both sons of Firelord Azulon were attired in ceremonial raiment of imperial red and black. The younger brother stood a good head taller than his elder. They differed in temperament as well. However, in that instance, while Iroh's mirth was on prominent display, a small smirk also tugged at the corner of Ozai's mouth.

"Father. Uncle." Lu Ten inclined his head politely, shaking his hands free of any clinging droplets. "I trust that grandfather is finished with you for the day?"

"Indeed." Ozai gave a gracious nod in return.

"Actually," his brother stroked his graying beard meditatively, "We just came from his Majesty's audience. It being quite hot in there, we were only now discussing the cleansing benefits of a nice bath."

The stocky general then kicked off his slippers, and took a few steps back.

"And, with that in mind…"

His son's face blanched. He turned to regard both Zuko and Azula in turn.

"LOOK OUT!"

Too late. Iroh sped forward and leapt into the air, tucking his knees against his chest.

"FIREBALL!!"

The children scrambled to get out of the way, as the bulk of Fire Nation royalty hit the surface of the pond like Sozin's Comet, sending a wave and a swell of water gouting up and out. Everyone in the circle of the pool was now quite thoroughly drenched. Laughing ecstatically, the younger two then ganged up on their elders, Zuko tackling Iroh, and Azula hanging gleefully from the back of Lu Ten's shoulder-pads.

Observing this display, Ozai shook his head in bemusement, affecting an overly stern and authoritative air.

"If the other nations ever got wind of this fiasco," he declared evenly, "it could very well spell the end of our country's military ambitions. Apparently I alone am left to be the sole vanguard of reason in these trying times."

Azula spoke up. "We don't need a reason, Father. We're Firebenders! We do what we want!"

"She has a point, brother." Iroh nodded sagely from his position face-up in the water, Zuko seated proudly on his broad stomach. "I doubt anyone could muster the power to challenge our family, combined as we are in firepower and lack of anything resembling reason!"

"We're the greatest in the world!" Zuko declared proudly.

His father glanced between the smiling members of his immediate family, and gave a resigned shrug.

"I suppose I cannot argue with you there, my son."

So saying, the second-born then slipped off his own footwear, hoisted the hem of his expensive dragon-claw red robes around his ankles, and regally stepped into the pool.

Half an hour of aquatic blind-tag and pool-chicken later, Princess Ursa came to escort her dripping children and waterlogged husband back to their quarters for dinner. For their part, Iroh and Lu Ten opted to remain in the drink for a little longer, much to the dismay of the local turtle-ducks. All were in agreement that it had been a grand adventure.


"Whoa."

Toph leaned back reflectively against the soft support behind her. All consternation at their predicament had bled away without her noticing it.

"Surprised?" Iroh rumbled.

"Very." It came out as barely a whisper. "I always thought, you know, you guys just never got along. Like even once in your whole lives."

"That is a common misconception regarding our family." The retired commander's voice held an undercurrent of sorrow, and weariness. "While we were not as closely knit as other examples, we did retain a sense of duty and respect in regards to one another. And on more occasions than one, those unbroken ties served to allow us to enjoy each others' company. There were great times to be had in our household, years ago."

The question was on the tip of her tongue, though she hesitated to ask it. Instead Toph said, "I wouldn't know about that. My parents didn't even let me play with members of our own family. They thought I might get bullied by the other kids. I always resented that they didn't trust any of us. Especially me."

"As adults, we often find ourselves amazed or even horrified by some of the choices we made when we were young. Believe me, Toph. I was never more thoughtless and inhumane than when I was a child, even towards those I cared about. They might have sheltered you, but be assured that you were spared some truly inventive cruelty as a result of your family's over-protectiveness. Some people never grow past that behavior."

She turned her head back to make sure her next words wouldn't be lost in the gale howling past them.

"If you knew all this, why did you let things get so bad with your brother and Azula?"

There was a bite to her tone that left him feeling accountably ashamed of every failure he could ever attribute to himself. Iroh had to think before he could respond. She gave him that time, perhaps recognizing that this was a difficult question to tackle.

"Because I was caught up in my family's mania as well," Iroh spoke heavily. "Do not forget, I laid siege to Ba Sing Se. I led a brutal and bloody campaign that cost thousands of people their homes and lives. My behavior now in no way excuses those past misdeeds, especially if you consider that at the time, I believed myself to be completely in the right. I perpetuated my grandfather's war, using excuses like it being necessary and humane to bring the long-running conflict to some type of close, and especially one in our favor, to prevent any of the other nations from attempting to exert retribution upon us for initiating this conflict in the first place. I told myself that it was my sacred duty to the world, to be the first Firelord to reign in peace for three generations. I knew Ozai was ambitious, and his daughter was a potential sociopath. But that could all be resolved, just as soon as I took my place on the throne. Back then, I truly wanted to finish the war, because it was the only way I could proceed to save my family. I had it all planned."

The way he spoke left his audience feeling very curious. Well, Toph thought, I want to know. And if he wants to tell me, that's good. If not, I won't ask again.

"So what exactly happened, then?"

Iroh did not respond right away. She could hear him shifting slightly on his perch, perhaps seeking to alleviate an uncomfortable spot. Or maybe he was preparing to go to sleep to evade the query.

"I asked myself that same question, over eight years ago."

He sounded tired also. Perhaps, if he really was so inclined, he should try and rest instead of talking. According to Iroh, there were still several hours of travel left ahead of them. Whatever they were setting out for, it wouldn't do to get there deprived of sleep. She knew first-hand how that could affect a person's mood and combat effectiveness.

Before Toph could voice these concerns, however, the old dragon was off again.

"My son died."


He could hear hushed voices coming from the tent at his approach. Iroh was surprised to find his senses so sharp, considering how heavy and awkward his body felt. Every footstep was ungainly, thudding against the earth like a komodo-rhino's. The general wondered vaguely why no one was pointing and laughing at his clumsy gait. Surely they could all see that there was something wrong with him? The heir-apparent to Firelord Azulon, the Dragon of the West, was just a tottering, graceless wreck now. Couldn't they all see that? Why was no one speaking around him? His royal guard at the least must be embarrassed to be following in the footsteps of this lumbering body he found himself unaccountably saddled with. He would have to remember to apologize to them later for this disgraceful duty they were forced to perform.

Iroh tried to affect a more dignified pace, but he found he could not shake the feeling that he was a source of ridicule for all present.

Two sentries moved hastily to draw the curtain for him. Such a show they put on, acting frightened of him, reacting so fast, as if his bloated form wasn't moving like a shambling corpse, as though his face was that of a lightning-eyed madman and not puffy and red like a mewling infant's.

Upon entering the dimly lit confines, the humbled Dragon of the West was met with the smell of sweet incense, unbearably cloying to his nostrils. Did they want to suffocate him? Go on then, do it! He wouldn't resist. There was no more point. The remaining members of his son's military staff were huddled together at the center of this hastily-constructed palisade. Iroh recognized a few of them by name, and the rest by sight. Several were missing. Apparently he would not be the only parent to receive a notice of their child's loss this day.

"Where is my son?"

He knew his voice was soft as a dying man's rasp, yet they behaved as though Iroh were bellowing at the top of his lungs, flinching and cringing back from him. The braziers smoldering on iron hooks began to give off much more heat and light for some reason. It offered him a better view of these men he now faced so ashamedly. They gazed at their general like he was Death itself entered into their midst. From the looks of terror on their sweating faces, one might actually believe that he was an imposing, menacing figure. Not a broken-hearted old fool who had found his vaunted abilities reduced to nothing. The officers fell to their knees en masse and abased themselves before him. All the better to hide the contemptuous smirks he knew must be decorating their features.

In doing so, they gave him an unobstructed view of the area.

On a table decorated with bowls of sand and incense sticks, the body of his son was laid out.

Iroh stumbled forward in piteous torpidity. How those young men scrambled unnecessarily to make way for him, one even going so far as to allow the general to trod on his hand and screaming that it had burned him. Enough. Do not demean yourselves with these pretences anymore. They gave him no pleasure.

"Go."

As he came to a halt by the bier, he could hear the sounds of their hasty departure dwindling away. None of that mattered now.

The unhappy parent gazed down at the lifeless shell before him.

He knew tears must be coursing down his face, but he could not feel them. The incense sticks flared brightly and burnt all the way down to their nubs in an instant. Iroh paid this occurrence no mind. He was busy studying the remains encased in armor and draped with a red silk shroud.

"Lu Ten."

He categorically refused to look at the face.

Maybe it isn't him.

That sentence had persisted in his head for the last two hours, bouncing around his brain as he rode the eel-greyhound from his encampment at the front lines over to his son's detachment. What if there had been a mistake, and his boy was still alive? Missing, somewhere out on the battlefield. That would explain why no one had spoken to him since his departure, and why the officers had all fled so readily from his presence. They were all embarrassed! Yes, embarrassed at having jumped to the conclusion that their commanding officer had been killed. But that was childish of them, and even a bit foolish. Once the mistake had been confirmed, they should have immediately begun the search for the young colonel, instead of wasting time withdrawing to this staging point. For all they knew, his dear Lu Ten was somewhere in their forward position, abandoned and possibly even wounded!

Reassured, the aging warlord felt ready to learn the truth for himself. Still without looking, he reached out and drew the wispy cover away from the dead man's head.

Oh my son, my son, do not fear! It was another member of our nation's valiant army that laid down his life today! Once I have found you and brought you home, you will tell me this man's identity, I am confident that you know every officer under your command. Then we will together send the appropriate commiserations to his family, letting them know that their flesh and blood had not died in vain nor would he be unremembered. How you will laugh, Lu Ten, to hear of your subordinates' foolishness.

Iroh took a deep, calming breath of the scent-laden air.

Laugh, my dearest one, wherever you are. Laugh at the foolishness of your father, who thought you dead.

When he was finally ready, he turned his head and looked.

Laugh, my Lu T…

Iroh howled.

His son's face was gone.

The bereft father fell to his knees, screaming and breathing flame. His breath of fire set the solid cloth high above their heads ablaze. They had told him what had happened, and he thought himself prepared for it. He had seen the worst that war had to offer, hadn't he? He knew the grisly carnage wrought on the battlefield, young men formerly filled with bright promise and hopes ripped to charred bleeding lumps. The messenger had explained it to him. How an errant rock from a burning Earthbender had caromed off a soldier's helmet, breaking apart into speeding pellets of limestone that ricocheted and tore into Lu Ten's unguarded features. His own priceless red and gold helm had been knocked off at some point during the fighting. Still, even that could not have saved him.

There was hardly anything left. It almost made the wailing general's delusions worth considering. How could one find anything recognizable in that smashed, bloodied wreckage? If you did not know who you were looking at for sure, it could have been anyone lying there.

But this was Lu Ten's father. And so he knew.

Nose, forehead and even lips might be missing, but that was his child's chin. And his self-same golden eye stared unblinking up at the ceiling from the left side of the face.

Iroh now clutched at his dead offspring's body, begging him to forgive his father. His guards had entered the tent at some point and proceeded to snuff the flames, preventing the temporary dwelling from burning down around their ears. Afterwards they stayed by him. It was not their place to touch the royal person, but these men and women were not mindless automatons. They remained in order to prevent their leader and future ruler from causing himself any harm. Without the noble's specific order to withdraw, these steadfast guardians could not be dissuaded. And their commander proved to be in no condition to issue orders of any kind at this time.

Instead Iroh wept, cradling Lu Ten's corpse, telling it all the plans he had conceived for his future, the dreams he had nurtured to see this world brought out right.

All gone now. All dead.


The evidence of the dragon's flight had long since passed beyond its riders' perception, lapsing into a soothing rhythm as quiet and peaceful as the dawn.

A fitting correlation, since that was precisely the time of day they found themselves at.

Iroh shielded his eyes against the first rays of the sun. Its red-gold mass was a torch lighting more than just the landscape. Where only a few seconds ago his heart had felt heavy enough to make him regret living, now it beat strong and fierce within his chest. Dragged from the depths of despair, the rejuvenated Firebender parted his lips and breathed a long streamer of flame towards the fading stars. Shao too greeted morning's first light in this fashion, her body growing almost unbearably hot beneath them.

Ahead of him, the purposeful warrior saw Toph flinch from the sudden increase in the beast's body heat. Coming to a decision, he reached forward and placed his hands beneath her armpits, lifting her up. The child tensed for a moment, but when his hold remained gentle, her small frame consented to be drawn away from her perch. Iroh settled her on his lap, away from the scorching furnace that had become the dragon's scales. She took hold of the front of his robes for support. The awkwardness they had both been so anxious to avoid was not in evidence here. When two people trusted one another, any misgivings were quickly excused in favor of appreciation.

And besides, Iroh thought, their flight was coming to an end.

After another half hour of travel, the elite historian judged that they were close enough to avail themselves of different transportation. Below them now were the rugged mountains and valleys that made up the north-eastern range of the Earth Kingdom. They had passed the Northern Air Temple several miles back. Its graceful spires, abandoned by its inhabitants for the second time in a hundred years, had long receded into the distance. There had been no point in informing Toph of this impressive vista. He was learning, after all. Still, if by some miracle he did manage to come out of this affair alive, Iroh hoped to one day accompany Zuko on such a trip. Perhaps by now, the hot-blooded prince had grown accustomed to air travel, having access to both Fire Nation technology and an Avatar's sky bison. But for his money, neither of those experiences could truly compare to dragon-flight. It was something that spoke very personally to his people, and he felt certain that Zuko would appreciate the honor as much as he had.

There. His time schedule was spot-on. Thanks must go to his more geographically and mathematically attenuated colleagues for their calculations regarding this matter. It was precisely the hour of the day they had formulated for his arrival. Being so relieved, Iroh shifted on his perch, moving slowly so as not to unnecessarily alarm his fellow traveler, and retrieved an object from his satchel. A small black pipe, carved in the shape of a dragon's head. This particular memento had come back with him from his trip to the Sun Warrior's domain. They had gifted him with it, along with instructions on its use, at the tacit behest of the Firebending Masters. The level of communication those secluded people had evinced towards Ran and Shao had always left the Prince of Fire somewhat envious. For years he had cherished a dream of returning there in the days of his twilight, to study and partake of their cherished wisdom in the aspiration of one day acquiring that selfsame ease of spiritual awareness with the two masters.

But until then, he would have to rely on less esoteric methods.

As he placed the pipe to his lips and blew, fingers covering the hidden holes on its sides, Shao's ears flickered. The blue dragon recognized the plea to descend, and began to turn in a circle, banking back along their course. Her unmatched eyesight scouted the terrain, searching for a suitable spot on which to land. After just a minute, her perusal was complete, and she angled her neck in descent, wings coming in close to her body.

Iroh kept a tight hold on Toph, partly to reassure her, and mainly to reassure himself that she did not go flying off into the air. With the increase in vision provided by the break of day, he thought he could see where their mount was taking them. The general approved. Since he could not specify a location, this was the best he could have hoped for. The rest of their journey would have to be made on foot.

As they continued to circle the landing point, something else caught his eye. Off to the west, a line of clouds was visible. The master pyromancer cursed to himself. Judging by the strength and direction of the wind, there was little doubt that they would arrive at their final destination under overcast skies instead of the clear sunshiny day he had been praying for. That meant his elemental powers would be diminished just when he needed them at their greatest peak. Still, Iroh was a more than capable tactician. He had never assumed that everything would turn out perfectly in this affair. And, he realized as Toph fidgeted nervously against him, often the unexpected could be turned to one's own advantage.

A secluded ridge on the side of a mountain. That was where Shao had chosen to drop them off. Under the initial version of his plan, their landing area would have had to have been significantly further away from ground zero. Not to accommodate the dragon, who clearly could alight on a much narrower surface, but for the sake of Iroh. Had she settled him in this spot alone and left, it would have been simply impossible for the sixty-year old to navigate off this wind-swept protuberance of granite. He would have been completely stranded.

Fortunately, he had a newer version of the plan. One that involved Earthbending.

Shao settled her deceptively large bulk on the pocked outcropping, folding up her wingspan to keep from brushing the sides of the mountain. As soon as her clawed feet touched the ground, Iroh felt Toph relax somewhat. For her, the worst was over. At least, so she thought. It was up to him to inform her that something far more perilous lay in store for them.

Being at opposite ends of the age spectrum did not prevent both of them from having a somewhat awkward time dismounting from their perch. Clambering down the dragon's hind leg, the elder then helped his compatriot find her feet at last.

With a high-pitched squeal of joy, Toph released his hand and dropped to the stone, flattening herself against it like a child to its mother's breast.

"LAND!" she exclaimed. "Sweet stable land, I missed you so much, I just want to hug you!"

While she was absorbed in this intimate reunion, Iroh blew a note of farewell on his pipe. Glancing back at him, Shao snorted a multi-hued burst of fire above their heads, lighting the shadowy mountainside briefly. She then turned and scrabbled a ways down the face of their holdings, before launching herself off the precipice out into emptiness. The wings unfurled, beating like a tempest, and with a final fiery blast, the blue dragon ascended into the heavens, heading eastward to the ocean and home.

Toph sprang up suddenly. "HEY!" she sputtered. "Where's the big salamander going?!"

"Home," Iroh supplied. "Her part in this affair is over."

"Uh, correct me if I'm wrong," Toph stated sarcastically, "but I seem to recall you mentioning something about terrible danger. Wouldn't it be a lot less dangerous for us if we had a razor-toothed fire-breathing sky lizard on our side?"

"Perhaps for us," the stocky old-timer shifted his accoutrements and made his way back to her side, "but not for her. Shao is one of only two dragons left alive in this world. I will not put her life at risk for my own sake. Safeguarding their secret is the only trust I have yet to besmirch with my incompetence, and I intend to keep it that way."

The petite boulder-buster cocked her head to one side. She then gave a short nod, and turning in the approximate direction of their departing ally, Toph drew a deep breath, cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted, "THANK YOU, SHAO!!"

Iroh thought he saw another plume of dragon breath in the distance, but he could not say for certain. Instead he inspected their perch critically. "Well, Toph, seeing as you and I are in this together now, do you suppose you could find us some suitable shelter?"

"Why?" She was pacing about their environs, getting a feel for the lay of the land. "Shouldn't we get going? I thought we were on a schedule here."

"We were," he admitted. "But thanks to you coming along, we are somewhat ahead of that schedule. I thought perhaps we could put the time to good use by having a bite to eat, and some tea."

The blind bender gave a disinterested snort, flexing her stiff shoulders. "Well, seeing as how we're in this together, partner, I guess I could scare us up some shelter from this wind."

A minute later there was a neat peak-roofed stone shack clinging to the bluff, complete with a sliding door and even a chimney. Inside, the two adventurers were making quick work of the provisions Iroh had packed. Fortunately, being a man of large appetite, his meal preparations would have been suitable for feeding twice as many people on a three-day trek. Having Toph along just meant he would have to practice some restraint.

When their meal of spiced meat, dried fruit and nuts was finished, the tea enthusiast set about preparing one of his favorite brews. While she waited for him to finish, Toph settled back into a stone cradle, one hand sliding idly over the floor to sense for any possible terrestrial warnings that might signal the need to evacuate this place.

After a few minutes, the girl rolled over on her stomach and faced in Iroh's direction, kicking her heels back and forth.

"Iroh…?"

"Yes?" he glanced away from his work for a moment, taking in the dreamy, contemplative look on her face.

"Are you ever going to tell me why we've come out here?"

She could feel his muscles tighten slightly, in what could be antipathy or dread.

"You promised to tell me, and I promised to help you. After I stopped screaming, I mean. So now that we're taking a break, do you want to let me in on who we're going to fight?"

The scented steam of boiling leaves added a subtle aroma to the air that Iroh usually loved. However, at this moment, he could take no comfort in it.

"I know you promised to aid me. And I accepted your offer, partly because I knew it wasn't really an offer." The Lord of Dragons added some sour rind to the tea, and allowed the fire to tamp down. "When the time comes, you and I might very well be forced to confront something that cannot be defeated. Something far older than the Four Tribes, and even the Avatar cycle. I have only scraps of information to go on here, Toph. Please do not think I am trying to hide something important from you. It is simply that I am afraid for your safety. Even if my plan works, there is no guarantee that either of us will come out of this whole."

His attentive host blew out her breath in aggravation, turning over on her back to face the ceiling. "There you go again, acting all grave and mysterious. Are you just practicing your vocabulary, or is there something you can actually tell me about all this?"

He found himself staring into the swirling, shifting fog of water vapor, and had to force himself to look away. Iroh chanced a peek over at Toph. She seemed completely relaxed, but her face was set in a composition of irritation and aggravation.

"What I know for certain comes from my own life experiences. If you will bear with me, I will tell you another story, one that will more clearly illustrate the danger we are about to face."

She waved a hand vaguely in acquiescence. With that permission, Iroh began his tale.

"The danger is from within our own souls."


After the funeral, General Iroh was a man without purpose.

His son was cremated, as befit the royalty of the Fire Nation. By that time, some strength had returned to the grieving father's mind and spirit. However, in the span of less than 24 hours, the Earth Kingdom generals had taken full advantage of their enemy's lack of concentrated leadership. The military strength of the Fire Nation had been blunted, its steady push into the lands beyond the Outer Wall of Ba Sing Se repulsed. Within two days time, what had taken Iroh six hundred days to accomplish was completely swept away. At the third dawn following Lu Ten's death, he gathered his remaining counsel in his tent. Then, after listening to their assessment of the battle and the current state of the supply lines, Iroh made his decision, and ordered a full-scale retreat. His army crept dejectedly away from sight of the great barrier, while the cheering soldiers of the Earth Kingdom flung boulders and curses at their departing backs.

The defeated national hero sent word back to his family regarding the loss of his son, and a separate missive to his father informing Firelord Azulon of the siege's failure. Iroh did not try to explain his defeat. While in public he did not permit his grief to surface lest the army's morale suffer even more than it already had, in private he allowed himself to despair.

Three weeks later saw Iroh on a ship headed back to the capitol of his homeland. During this voyage, he received word by messenger hawk of the sudden death of his father, and the revelation that Ozai had been chosen to succeed him as the next Firelord. Upon reading this unexpected reversal of fortune, the elder sibling found he could not fault his parent. There was truly no point in his becoming Firelord now. His useful life had come to an end. Azulon had been kind in a way, not forcing a clearly unsuitable burden down his son's throat. Let the one who had something left to prove do so now. All else was irrelevant.

As he stood on the prow of his vessel, gazing out over the ocean, Iroh considered ending his own life.

He could step over the rail right now, and drown himself.

There was nothing stopping him. He was useless, an extra tile on the Pai Sho board, of no further help to anyone.

He had no point in living anymore.

It was while considering the truth of this statement that something caught his eye.

On the starboard side of the ship, far to the south, a light was visible.

Like a single candle burning on the ocean, it drew his weary eye.

For some reason, that ember spoke to Iroh. There was no great rush, after all. Nowhere pressing he had to be. Upon arriving at this conclusion, he made his way back to the bridge and informed the captain to plot a new course towards the light.

By the fall of evening that day, they had arrived at the crescent island housing the Temple of the Fire Sages.

Situated on the side of an active volcano, the ancient monastery was bathed in the glow of the caldera. When his flag was first spotted, the guardians of the Avatar Spirit's lore made their way to the ancient stone jetty to greet their royal patron.

"Welcome, Dragon of the West," the most ancient of their order greeted him. "It is our privilege to serve. We assume you are here for the Conqueror's Soul?"

At first no answer came to him. But as soon as he gave it some thought, the truth dawned on Iroh, and he wasted no time in expressing it.

"Yes. Please lead me to it."

They bowed to his will without question, and led him into the depths of the temple.

In essence, there was no reason for any of them to doubt his veracity. After all, word had reached them of Azulon's passing, as well as Ozai's instatement as Firelord. To their minds, it would not be uncommon for the younger brother to send his elder on this auspicious task, to retrieve the final ceremonial artifact required to invest a newly crowned leader of the Fire Nation with full divine authority. The sages were most accommodating in this regard, almost unctuous really, having been awaiting the transport ever since word had come from the Firelord's court that it was needed. Iroh would later discover that the ship his brother had dispatched to actually perform this duty had been destroyed at sea by a flotilla of Southern Water Tribe vessels. Ozai's first official act as Firelord two days later was to order a renewed assault on those isolated hamlets of snow and ice. Their naval victories there served for a marked improvement in military morale, which in turn allowed Ozai to build a reputation as an inspiring and heavenly-favored commander, a far cry from the disaster that his brother's line had proven to be.

By the time he learned of this, Iroh had more pressing concerns than his reputation.

In a chamber redolent with unfamiliar odors and filled to the brim with rare leaves and roots of all kind, the venerable Sages pressed a secret mixture of plant resins and fossil elements shaped like a ball into their warlord's hands.

As he thanked them and was about to turn away, one priest in particular approached him and spoke with a disconsolate air.

"We had hoped the Soul we provided for your son would go towards blessing your rule, my lord. I regret that it must have been lost during the long siege."

Iroh stared at him for a moment. Noticing the man's growing unease, he then spoke quickly.

"Yes, it was a great pity. Thank you for your concern."

He left them there, and departed on his voyage back home with the Sages' best wishes.

He had not let them know that he did not have a clue what they were talking about.

His son had received a Conqueror's Soul? But why? The ceremonial orbs of incense were crafted only at the behest of the Firelord. It was a tradition dating to the rule of Sozin himself, marking each new generation of leader's spiritual ascendance to the throne. The creation of these otherworldly implements was a sacred trust for the Fire Sages, involving a process of meditation and careful herbcraft that lasted over two weeks. Their purpose was highly symbolic, actually. Supposedly when the incense was burned, it gave the one who breathed its vapors visions and insight into their world. There were some who said that its use allowed those under its spell to enter into the Spirit Realm, a feat capable only for the most ascetically and spiritually gifted. Or for the Avatar.

Upon returning to his transport, Iroh set about investigating this unusual revelation. He went through Lu Ten's remaining affects.

And in a box emblazoned with the symbol of Fire Nation royalty and sealed with his son's personal sigil, the mystified parent found what he had sought.

There were three items in that chest. One was a Conqueror's Soul, identical to the one now safely secured in his cabin. The next was a scroll, written in his father's hand and charging the bearer with the need and authority to perform the duty of retrieving that precious object.

The final item was a letter to Iroh.

Honored father,

The contents of this box will be sent to you only upon my death. If you are reading this, then that has already come about. I must ask for your forgiveness, in that I have inflicted on you the most grievous pain of all: being forced to outlive your own child. At this time, you are probably feeling bereft and without hope. But if my instincts are correct, then there is even worse ahead of you.

I do not wish to alarm you, Father. But after my last visit back home, Grandfather Azulon called me to his chambers. He informed me that he had received a presentiment not only in regards to his own passing, but for yours as well. He then charged me to obtain a Conqueror's Soul, stating that it was my right and duty as the next Firelord. In truth, I put no real stock in superstitions and the warnings of dreams. But last night, I found my sleep troubled by disturbing images. I saw you in tears, and a lonely spire that beckoned to me with a voice that held no face. This frightened me more than anything I could ever remember. I pray that the dreams regarding your parent's fate and mine prove to be unfounded night terrors. But the chill of that fear has settled deep within me. I honestly do not believe at this time that we will ever meet on the soil of our homeland again.

Since I am unable to speak to you now, I will try to assuage both our souls by writing this testament: I love you, my father Iroh. You have given me a home and boundless affection throughout all my years. We may have had our disagreements over certain points, but there was never a time in my life that I resented your being in it. Should I truly have to spend the rest of my days without ever hearing your laughter, then I will do my best to find the joy in life for both of us. I will seek to provide for our family, and strive for a world that discards past mistakes in favor of gentleness and compassion. You will always be in my heart as a devoted parent and true friend. My warmest affection goes out to you.

Your loving son,

Lu Ten

Before he finished the first paragraph, Iroh was crying. He read and reread the narrative time and time again. And while it was definitely imbued with his son's love, reaching out through time and the boundaries of death itself to touch his heart, at that moment, Iroh found these words insufficient. What good were printed symbols in place of a son's embrace, or the sight of his smiling face, the sound of his voice? What sort of world was this they lived in that forced a parent to part with his own body and blood, to live out his declining years in wretchedness and misery alone?

Why did his son have to die? Why did his wife perish untimely, and even his father now, who had been with him his entire life?! Why did this war take so much from him?! WHY WERE THERE NO ANSWERS TO BE FOUND IN THIS LIFE?!!!

The fallen warrior slumped on the floor of his study, weeping inconsolably like a lost child. He hugged the paper to his chest and cried into the carpet.

Ten minutes later, he had regained some of his composure.

Iroh got to his knees and crawled over to the box, where he replaced the last will of his only son.

As he did, his eye alighted on the orange amber ball on the bottom of the crate.

And something occurred to him.

No. It wasn't right. It was no longer his place. He was not the Firelord, and he never would be. That charge fell to Ozai's side of the family now. It was their father's wish.

But what was the harm, really? It was not as though he sought the crown for himself anymore. And they had two now. Why not try, and see for himself?

With that, the bereft yet hopeful soul picked up the unremarkable-seeming orb.

He breathed a gentle flame over it. In what seemed no time at all, the fragrant lump was smoldering in his hands.

Iroh inhaled the fumes deeply.

And gradually, the rocking of the cabin that he had not even noticed receded completely out of mind. The room itself was vague and hazy before his eyes. Was it just due to the redolent mist swirling all around him now, or was he truly experiencing something otherworldly at this moment? The weight of his own body was no longer evident, he could not even smell the smoke. Or for that matter, breathe it.

The old man stood up then, and began to move through the mists.

He heard voices after a time, and Iroh almost believed he could recognize some of them. Like a memorable performer's tones that altered for every role but remained recognizable to those who had long attended to his craft. Lights of many colors glowed far off within the mists. He sought to follow them, but their wavering hues never became any more distinct. After some searching, the wanderer was forced to abandon these attempts, and stood puzzled and uncertain within the clouded terrain.

Of a sudden he detected something beside him. Looking down, Iroh spied a tiny white elephant-mouse at his feet.

It peered upwards, regarding him with great black eyes framed by long lashes.

"Are you looking for someone?"

The creature spoke to him.

What surprised Iroh most was that he was not surprised.

"My father is dead," he informed the small mammal. "And so is my son."

It stood on its hind legs, snuffling its long snout in a musing manner.

"I can lead you to both. Which do you want to speak with most?"

He hesitated, considering.

"Lu Ten, I believe."

The elephant-mouse nodded. "If you believe it here, then it must be true."

Iroh blinked. "You are wise."

It scampered a few steps forward, and then turned its head to look at him.

"No, traveler. You are. Had you asked to speak with Azulon, I would have had to refuse."

It moved off again, and he followed curiously. "Why?"

The composite beast skittered around his ankles, and gave a shiver.

"Because he is not alone here."

Iroh did not understand. "Why are you helping me?"

His guide was some way ahead of him now, and he had to hurry to keep up. But its voice reached him clearly. "It is my calling. I set people on their way, and lead them to good fortune; if they are willing to make the journey, that is. It is my purpose no matter what form I take, or on what plane."

The rest of their trip was made in silence.

Finally the little curiosity drew to a halt by a small pool of clear water. There were rocks around them now. It indicated with its trunk that Iroh should be seated, and so he did.

"Please be patient, and wait here. You do not want to go wandering off."

He obeyed the creature's instructions, and watched it scuttle away.

Iroh glanced around. Without his realizing it, the smoke had cleared. He was now seated on a pillar of sandstone rising just beyond the edge of a cliff. On the mainland was a verdant field of blazing flowers spreading off to the horizon. Snapdragons the size of elms bent and drifted silently amongst the lesser petals, sending out small shots of bright green flame that caused more flowers to bloom wherever they touched. Looking down off his perch, he could see only smoke and fog drifting below this rest. He could not say for sure whether he had walked across the field to get here or up the pillar itself. Either way seemed plausible to him right now. Intrigued, the intellectual then cast his eyes skyward, where he was greeted by a motionless brown cloud cover. There was no sun that he could see.

Far overhead, he thought he saw a burning bird flying.

"Father."

Iroh's gaze came back down. In the reflection of the pool's surface, he could see Lu Ten sitting behind him, their backs touching. He could feel the young man's burning hot armor in a way that nothing else here registered to his senses.

Though he knew it was his son, the face reflected in the pool was turned away, allowing him to see only the back of his head.

"My boy." The words came out softly. He felt very happy now.

"Father," Lu Ten spoke again, "You must leave. You are in danger."

"I cannot," Iroh sighed. "I do not know how I even came to be here. Where are we?"

"The Spirit Realm. Where all go who are seeking true knowledge."

"Then here is where I will stay. With you, my dearest Lu Ten."

Neither of them moved now. They might have been statues, or actors trapped onstage.

"Can you forgive me?"

It was Iroh who said it, and he thought he saw his son's shoulders shake in the reflection.

"No."

He could have cried then.

"I cannot, father. Because there is nothing for which you need to be forgiven."

"I let you die," the father spoke mournfully, but the son's tone was more than a little rebuking.

"You protected me all my life. How could you have saved me from something that happened miles away which you were not even aware of until it was over? I was a soldier and a war leader. I knew the dangers that involved. It was poor luck, not malice or oversight on your part."

Iroh saw one of his son's hands reach up over the armored shoulder, and he extended his own. They clasped, and he experienced a slight shock to his system then. Like lightning travelling to his heart, where it stayed crackling and spitting. The world seemed so much clearer than it had a moment before.

"You couldn't have known, father."

"I know," Iroh wept then, not feeling the tears but still registering them. "I know now."

Lu Ten's hand withdrew.

"No. You don't."

Then there was a reordering in the world around them. Looking over the small spring, the wise old statesman perceived a dark mountain off in the distance. The path to it was jagged and treacherous, requiring anyone approaching to exert themselves. Something like the sun, only far fainter, hung over that lone edifice. The clouds above it were unnaturally dark.

I know that place, he thought.

He watched it closely, and for just a moment, there was a noise like sharp claws skittering over stone, and he knew something was coming towards him out of dark caves beneath that nameless hill. Iroh's heart filled with fear.

Then Lu Ten's fingers found his once more.

"You must leave now. Your family is once again in terrible danger."

"No," the old man insisted stubbornly. "You are my family. I am staying here."

"Father. Am I the only one in the world of the living you cared about?"

He paused.

Then, "No."

"Who else?"

The traveler felt himself growing most weary, but he persevered for his son's sake. "My brother. Ozai."

"Is that all?" Lu Ten pressed him anxiously. Iroh considered.

"Your cousins. Azula and Zuko."

"Something evil lurks in our family, Iroh. It hunts us down, and feeds off of us. It did this to your father, your grandfather, and if I had not died, it would have done the same to me."

"NO!" Iroh bellowed, thinking to see flames come out with it. But no fire was evident here.

"It is not too late to save the children, father. Even Ozai is not so far gone that he is beyond any help. But Zuko and Azula especially are still in horrible danger. They are the next in line. It will be coming for them. To complete its work."

"What work?!" his father spoke desperately. "What is this danger you are speaking of? Please, son, tell me!"

"I can't," Lu Ten whispered in fearful tones. "I don't know its face, or its name. No one I speak to will tell me. They're too afraid. It's old, father. Old and cunning and angry."

The smoke was rising around them now, obscuring the menacing peak and the field of flowers. In desperation Iroh knew that his time here was growing short.

"What must I do?!" he shouted in near panic.

"Protect the children," his son's voice insisted. "The children of the Four Tribes. They are the ones who can save our family. Give them your knowledge, father. Learn for them, and then teach them. Listen for the story of our enemy, and tell it to the children. Don't let the lost memories stay dead. They can be resurrected."

"Lu Ten!"

The smoke was all around them now. He could no longer even see the perch on which they sat.

"Live, father. There is still so much you can do."

"LU TEN!"

He whirled about, grabbing his son's shoulders and spinning them to face one another.

What he saw before him made Iroh scream.

He came back to himself in a room filled with the fading smell of incense, a blackened rock guttering out between his burning fingers. The sounds of people pounding on his door became clear, along with the worried shouts of his guards.

Iroh hid the smoldering ball, and then went to reassure them that he was all right.


When they had finished their tea, Iroh suggested they collapse the house and begin the final leg of their journey.

"I kinda like this place," Toph replied. "Let's take it with us!"

She gave the floor a few well-placed kicks, and the shack suddenly lurched forward. When he managed to crawl to the window, Iroh was momentarily flabbergasted by the sight of two long ropes of interconnected boulders sprouting from the base of their residence. Resembling the legs of a spider-fly, these appendages were scaling the face of the mountain, heading in exactly the wrong direction.

After explaining the situation, and receiving a bonk on the head for his use of the phrase 'That way,' the duo proceeded to traverse the craters and canyons of those imposing peaks.

Both were world travelers, but only Iroh had specific experience with navigating this locale. So for another half hour, he divided his time between scanning the environment, giving instructions, and marveling at the sight of the Earthbending form that was unique to this twelve-year old girl. The retired general had much experience with the basic style that was common among virtually all Earthbenders. To his well-trained eye, Toph's seemed much more similar to Firebending, in that it resembled dancing. She treated the earth as a partner, hands upraised and moving as though she were feeling the ground's fingers and responding with her own. She stepped and moved, hardly seeming to stand still, face settled in easy concentration. It reminded him of the ballroom dancing that had been popular in his younger days, before Azulon's ailing physique caused him to abandon any such efforts, thus consigning the pastime to oblivion in the court. If the Firelord could not participate, no one could. Iroh considered. Perhaps when this was over, he could ask if Zuko would demonstrate to her some of the classic dance moves of their people. Ursa had been a great enthusiast of the art, and had not failed to pass on these teachings to her children. It showed in their Firebending, and their uncle felt somehow certain that Toph would prove to be a more than capable partner for his nephew.

Absorbed in this breathtaking display, Iroh almost missed their location.

"Wait! Toph, that cave to the left, that's where we want to go!"

"Hang on."

That was all the warning he received before the construct lurched off to one side, and it proved insufficient, as Iroh tumbled head over heels and wound up flat on his face.

A few minutes later they were settled once more onto the bedrock. The adventurers then approached the high and narrow mouth of a cave which led down into the depths of the earth.

"You know we could just take the house to wherever we're going, instead of traveling underground," Toph pointed out.

Iroh shook his head, once again realizing too late the ineffectiveness of this gesture. "We could, if I actually knew where our final destination was in relative position to this spot. I have only ever been there by travelling through the tunnels beneath our feet."

She blew her bangs up out of her face, and then proceeded to stalk forward, completely self-assured. "So what are we waiting for? Lead the way."

Iroh complied, and the disparate procession entered the bleak gap in the rock, passing out of the sun's warmth.

The ball of flame he produced in one hand served to illuminate their surroundings. It was a fairly straightforward system they had entered into. The path was remarkably direct and smooth beneath their feet, without any divergent trails. After a while, Toph felt the need to comment on this markedly useful quality.

"This isn't a natural tunnel system. It was forged by Earthbenders. I can feel how they worked their way through the mountain."

"Yes, that is correct," Iroh confirmed her deduction. "This path was crafted nearly one hundred years ago, by warriors of the Earth Kingdom attempting to provide shelter for their charges on the way to Ba Sing Se."

"Who were they protecting?" The blind savant sounded curious.

Iroh patted his satchel to ensure himself that he had not left anything back in their cabin. When he was sufficiently mollified that his memory had not failed him, he proceeded on their solitary route.

"Air Nomads."

Toph came to a halt, her mouth opening in surprise.

"Aang's people?"

Ahead of her Iroh had not stopped in his careful journeying. For a while Toph stayed where she was, absorbing everything her feet were telling her about this place. In a way, she could almost feel the mood of the men and women who had hollowed out this route. There was a sense of grim, stalwart purpose in how they shored up the ceiling, as well as the care taken in smoothing the floor, as though for people who were unaccustomed to walking on rough terrain as they were.

And then Toph had an unnerving impression of their no longer being alone down here. She could almost feel a large crowd of people passing by her in this place, their sore and aching feet riddled with cuts and blisters, the sound of their passing coming to her ears like a thousand small drums. Mixed in was the crying of children, anxious elders trying to console them, and the gruff, assured tones of Earthbenders who moved alongside the crowd, urging them to take their time and not rush themselves. They would be safe here until reinforcements could arrive, they were told. They just had to stay hidden until then.

"Toph?"

The feeling passed. She shook her head, trying to dispel the impression of bitter fear that worked its way up her legs and into her heart.

"I'm coming."

She kept up with him after that, but the subtle presentiment of danger did not leave her soul. Toph no longer questioned Iroh as to why they had come to this place. She was beginning to have some idea as to its significance.

"We're almost there," she spoke softly.

"Are we? Good." He did not doubt her perceptions.

Several minutes later, Toph proved as good as her word.

A different light than the one in his palm touched Iroh's face, and he quickened his pace to reach their exit. They soon both walked out onto a day not even halfway done yet. The adventurers found themselves facing a narrow path that snaked between two sheer walls that rose about twenty feet over their heads. Toph's senses confirmed that these barriers too were crafted by her people. Obviously the reassuring presence of walls was something long engendered into the Earth Kingdom mindset. For her money, walls didn't imply security. More like imprisonment. The imposing fortifications and district markers of Ba Sing Se were the most obvious example of this dichotomy, providing safety at the cost of freedom. Her opinions in that regard had been more than validated by recent events, but Toph was not the type to say 'I told you so.'

Why bother, when the word 'Idiots!' gave you the same satisfaction at a quarter of the breath?

She noticed then that Iroh was about to make the attempt of squeezing his bulk through the narrow maze. Finding little use for such a trek, the World's Greatest Earthbender made a sharp motion down with one palm, and the fortifications simply sank into the earth. Her guide jumped backwards, heart rate going a mile a minute. She then felt him turn about and assume a rather irate posture towards her.

"What? I'm being helpful." She gave him an unperturbed shrug.

He made a slight 'Hmm' of acknowledgment, and proceeded to enter the secluded valley.

Toph had been aware for some time what their ultimate destination 'looked' like. It was a fairly large plain of jagged rock, surrounded on all sides by sheer walls of granite. Unlike their passage here, this locale was completely natural in execution. It was an environment rendered virtually inaccessible to anyone outside of flying or burrowing. There were no paths over the surrounding mountains that could lead into the heart of this domain without posing fatal peril to those foolhardy enough to make the attempt. It was a fortress of nature's own devising, and must have seemed like a godsend to those men and women that had sought shelter here for a while.

Scanning the desolate space, she noticed Iroh had proceeded to reach down and pick something up.

Before he could do so, she had already ascertained its significance.

It was a helmet.

A Fire Nation army helmet.

The wind blew through that place then, and Toph shivered. Standing a few feet away from her, the guiding flame still resting in Iroh's hand was snuffed out savagely.

Her old companion tilted his face to the heavens, and breathed deeply.

There was a feeling that came with that wind. It was almost like…

Recrimination.

Accusation.

And it was not directed at her, Toph realized. She could sense its intent, and for her, there was almost something encouraging. But that sensation was not in the wind. No, in fact, it appeared to be emanating from the ground itself. Like someone was welcoming her. Reaching out, through the earth.

Without thinking, the blind geopath settled to one knee, and placed her hand against the surface of their world.

She let herself see what lay here.

You came. At last!

They reached out for her then, and Toph sprang upright with a shout.

Iroh turned about, concern in his voice. "Toph, what's wrong?"

She swallowed, her throat dry.

"They… they're here," she whispered, shaking with shock and horror. "The Earthbenders, the ones who made that tunnel, and the walls. I… I can feel them, still here!" Her blind eyes turned in Iroh's direction, and for the first time, she regretted having come with him on this trip.

"Iroh? What happened here?"

He walked over to her, and placed both hands on her shoulders. His warm golden eyes searched those enchanting jade orbs, finding fear in her features. But also, he detected resolve, and determination.

It was time she knew the truth.

"Over ninety years ago, in this spot, and on this day, the last members of the Air Nomad Nation were trapped here and slaughtered. By the Fire Nation."

She gaped for a moment, eyes centered somewhere on his chest.

Her tiny hands came up and gripped his wrists with a fierce, focused outrage. She screamed at him, and the wind picked up her cry so that it echoed endlessly throughout the cold, gusty peaks.

"WHY?!!"

And in response, he told her a story.


General Iroh passed between the long line of Fire Nation nobles and imperial guards. The masks of those sentries were just as expressionless as the faces of his people. Once before they had looked upon him with respect and offered praise for his genius. Now they kept their features carefully schooled masks of ambivalence. They would not know how to react, until this audience was concluded.

Iroh stepped forth to stand before the sea of orange flame separating their position and the throne of the Firelord. A seat he now knew he would never occupy. Instead he took up his place beside his young nephew and niece. Azula kept her eyes focused straight ahead, but Zuko alone of that congregation turned and favored his uncle with a sad smile. The yet-grieving parent was touched by this display, and allowed an answering grin to stretch his own lips momentarily.

Then the great gong sounded, and they all went to their knees to humble themselves facedown before their ruler.

In the deathly silence of that hall following the receding notes of the gong, the sound of slippered feet and shifting robes came clearly to Iroh's ears. The fiery river then blazed with greater intensity than ever before. And at last, he heard the voice of his anointed leader.

"General Iroh."

The man in question kept his face averted. It was not his place to speak yet.

Silence reigned. Behind the royal family, the crowd of dignitaries and high-ranking officers waited with baited breath. Soon they would see decided the final fate of a man who just a year ago they had all treated with the utmost deference and respect. Iroh's place at court, and their opinion of him, rested squarely in the hands of the individual who had once been his brother, and now was so much more to them.

Then the voice spoke again.

"Iroh."

Facedown on the floor, he felt no fear. Nothing could surprise or dismay him now. He was stone. He was ready. He was loyal.

"My brother."

The tension in the room eased somewhat. So the defeated general was still recognized by his sibling after all. Well, then, of course they would follow suit. The Firelord clearly valued his brother's experience and wisdom, even in the face of his colossal failures and shortcomings. They would do as their leader wished, and welcome the outcast back into the ranks of the nobility. He must surely be very grateful to his younger brother now.

In truth, Iroh felt nothing. Had Ozai ordered him burned alive on the spot, he would not have protested. There was really nothing left for him to fight for.

"Rise and face your Firelord, General Iroh."

He could do this. It was the easiest thing in the world. Nothing to be afraid of.

"I come before you to pledge my undying loyalty and unbreakable troth…"

Iroh then stood, and lifted his face to the figure sitting wreathed in flame before him.

"My life for you and our nation, Firelord…"

He opened his eyes.

"Oza…"

The breath caught in his throat.

Iroh's face froze.

Some people stirred behind him, perhaps noticing the slight halting of the final syllable. But if the Firelord took any offense from this, he gave no sign.

"I accept your pledge, brother, and give my own to always be worthy of your loyalty, and to continue to treat you with the honor and courtesies that are your due."

Finding themselves oddly touched by his generous and magnanimous gesture, the assembled throngs quickly forgot any slip of the tongue on the part of the old man, for the sake of his imperial savior. There was truly a regal soul, and a noble visage. The courtiers watched their liege smile graciously at his prodigal brother.

Iroh did not.

There was no smile to see.

His brother's face was gone.

To be continued…