Chapter One

When the light, cotton flap of his tunic fluttered over Aang's head and partially covered his face, he knew he was going to lose his determination to sulk the afternoon away. In fact, a mischievous smile was already pulling at the corners of his mouth even before he pushed back the flap and turned a glance over his shoulder to glimpse Gyatso's impish expression. Gyatso then wiggled his bushy gray eyebrows with unrepentant self-satisfaction and Aang completely dissolved into laughter.

His beloved mentor well knew that a little teasing went a very long way with Aang. Even on his gloomiest days, Aang had never been very good at maintaining a sour disposition. It simply wasn't in his nature and, because it wasn't, it never took very much to make him crumble. By the time Gyatso gracefully floated down next to him on the temple parapet, Aang was already in a much better mood and the seasoned monk had yet to say a single word.

"Good afternoon, Sifu Gyatso," Aang greeted brightly.

"Good afternoon, my young pupil. You've come to a rather secluded place today, haven't you?"

Aang shrugged. "It was a pretty day. I thought I would come up here to enjoy it."

It wasn't a secret hideaway by any means. In their spare time, most of the boys sought out the high places on the temple in order to fly their gliders or race their bison. Though the air was thin and crisp at such a precarious altitude, for an airbender, open sky and soaring heights were the freest places in the world. Aang knew he didn't have to explain any of that to his mentor. The wise old airbender had the same unquenchable desire pounding through his veins. Gyatso might no longer grab his air glider on an impulse and take to the skies as he had in his youth, but the craving remained.

Therefore, it wasn't surprising when he nodded his agreement. "You're right. The day is quite lovely. Perfect for gliding. It's also a good day for watching the clouds, I think," he remarked casually, "Have you spotted anything of interest?"

Both amazed and exasperated by how easily Gyatso had guessed his intentions, Aang ducked his head with a self-deprecating smile. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of being so easy to read. He wanted to be an open book, but he was twelve years old now. As much as he loved Gyatso, the old monk shouldn't know everything about him. Then again, Gyatso could have been speaking in generalities. What airbender wouldn't want to cloud watch on such a perfect summer's day?

The air was perfumed with the aroma of newly sprouted flowers and creeping greenery. The sky was a perfect, azure blue, broken only by the plump, cumulus clouds that floated by at random intervals. That was a deceptive sign, Aang knew, because as inviting and soft as those diaphanous puffs of vaporized water appeared to be, he understood that they were almost always the sign of an approaching storm. That fact was strangely reminiscent of his own life right then.

A storm was brewing for him as well…a storm of war. It was the very reason he had been told that he was the Avatar in the first place when, traditionally, that shouldn't have happened until he was sixteen. Now the monks were scrambling to find him appropriate bending instructors and prepare him to fight a war. The prospect was nauseating for Aang. He had never fought another human being before much less trained for a war! He didn't even fully understand why they were at war. Only six months earlier, he and Gyatso had gone on a pilgrimage together across the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation territories and everything had seemed as it had always been…at least it had seemed that way to him.

He recalled the strange dream he'd had just a few nights prior as well as the strange flashes that had been coming to him in regular intervals since then. There was no earthly reason why he should give the unfettered wanderings of his subconscious any real consideration, but Aang was having a difficult time shaking the emotions that dream had evoked. He remembered quite well that the dream version of himself had possessed the same ideal naiveté when it came to the world and war and how that naiveté had ultimately been shattered.

Aang slumped forward with the recollection, his mood abruptly turning sour once more. "I haven't paid much attention to the clouds. I came up here to meditate," he confessed to Gyatso in a mumbled tone, "I thought that maybe if I could clear my mind of everything that's been bothering me lately, I could find some peace."

"Doesn't sound like you met with much success," Gyatso observed quietly. "How can I help?"

"That's just it. You can't," Aang muttered in an unhappy tone, "Even though I really wish you could."

"You're conceding defeat before you even try. That's never a good thing."

Aang shrugged. "I'm not doing that. I'm trying to accept what I can't change. That's what you always tell me."

"And I appreciate the fact that you're taking my lesson to heart," Gyatso replied mildly, "Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be providing you with much relief."

"It's not," Aang answered honestly. After expelling a mournful sigh, he blinked up at Gyatso with wide, gray eyes. "How did you know where to find me?"

Gyatso chuckled at the question. "I believe your beloved sky bison circling again and again overhead was something of a giveaway, my young pupil."

"Oh," Aang chirped with a mortified blush, "Right. I told him to go back with the other bison but, Appa is determined to keep an eye on me no matter what."

"We should all be so lucky to have such loyal friends." He and Aang exchanged small smiles before Gyatso added rather reluctantly, "And I'm sure you realize that means that if I found you, it's only a matter of time before the other monks find you as well. Your secret hiding place won't be so secret anymore."

"That's not so great."

Gyatso sighed his name, in a tone that was affectionately understanding but also indicative of the fact that he was about to deliver a lecture. Aang repressed a long-suffering groan, but dutifully fixed his mentor with an expectant look nonetheless. "You can't keep skipping your classes," Gyatso chided him, "Being a master doesn't mean that you no longer need instruction."

"That's not it, Sifu."

"Then tell me what it is."

Aang ducked his head again, this time even lower. "It's complicated."

"That's not a satisfactory answer at all. I've tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, Aang, but this is the third time this week. Do you want to go before the head monks to explain yourself?"

"No!" Aang cried with unrestrained horror.

Gyatso had to expel a mighty effort to bite back his smile. "So tell me the reason you're avoiding your training."

"I hate training now," Aang confessed in a garbled mumble, "It used to be the best thing ever and I couldn't wait. But now everyone stares and points and whispers and no one ever talks to me anymore. No one ever wants to bend with me because they think I have an unfair advantage, but I don't! I'm still me."

"I know this transition has been difficult for you."

"I don't want to be the Avatar! It doesn't feel like I am at all. Maybe you're wrong. Are you sure it's me? Are you sure they didn't make a mistake? You've always told me that there's no harm in double-checking."

Although he wanted to smile, Gyatso suppressed the impulse because he knew that Aang was being perfectly serious. If there was a way for him to give up being the Avatar, Gyatso didn't doubt that Aang would do it. "Aang, we've known your identity since you were a small child," Gyatso replied softly, "The only one who didn't know the truth was you. This is a part of who you are, who you've always been. You shouldn't deny it."

The twelve year old's attempt to blink back his forming tears were futile and they spilled from his lashes anyway, creating small drops of wetness against the front of his tunic. "I wish you had never told me at all," he muttered. "It ruined everything."

Gyatso didn't know if he would completely agree with his 12 year old pupil's dramatic assessment of events, but he could admit that it wasn't far off the mark. The transition since learning his identity wasn't only difficult for Aang. It had been difficult for Gyatso as well. He'd had to watch as Aang was rejected and ostracized by his peers. He'd had to listen at night while the boy cried himself to sleep. He'd had to witness his formerly cheerful, outgoing and outrageous young student close inside himself and become a virtual recluse. And if that weren't offense enough, Gyatso now had the head monks breathing down his neck as well, criticizing not only the manner in which he instructed Aang but the closeness between them as well.

They seemed to think he was impeding Aang's destiny somehow, stifling his growth. In fact, they outright blamed him for Aang's inability to accept the fact that he was the Avatar. To Gyatso, it seemed that they never took any time to consider the reality that Aang was still a twelve year old boy and what they were asking of him was enough to make full grown men tremble, let alone a child. And he well understood their urgency. He knew that they didn't have a moment to spare, not with Sozin already aggressively pushing the borders of the Fire Nation…not when the comet's arrival loomed.

In the last six months, Sozin had become a very real threat to the world. What began as a misguided attempt to "share his wealth with the world" had bloomed into an all out thirst for supremacy which had now brought the four nations to the precipice of war. Once the comet arrived, he and his Firebenders would be endowed with incredible firebending power. The monks had foreseen Sozin's rise as the world's dictator, but they could not portent what that would mean for the nations that opposed him. What they did know was that he would rain fire down upon the world unchallenged unless the Avatar was trained to defeat him. And all of that made perfect, logical sense to Gyatso except for one, critical detail: he didn't think of Aang as the Avatar. He thought of him as a son and loved him that way too.

The strong, familial bond he felt for Aang was ironic given how reluctant he had been to become the boy's guardian in the beginning. In fact, when he was first presented with the task, Gyatso had outright refused. Gyatso had not only known Aang in his previous incarnation as Avatar Roku, but had also been especially fond of the man. In fact, despite the six years in age that separated them, the two men had become impossibly close over the years.

Whenever Roku had journeyed to the Southern Air Temple, it was always for the express purpose of seeing Gyatso. In turn, Gyatso had been present for the birth of all Roku's children. They became extended family, closer than brothers. Gyatso had respected and admired the late Avatar greatly.

It had been Gyatso in whom Roku had confided the growing tension with Sozin. He had expressed his sadness and uncertainty over the dramatic turn in Sozin's personality. For many years Roku had wondered if that propensity towards domination had always been present in his childhood friend and he had only failed to see it. He had been riddled with much guilt and Gyatso had done his best to reassure him, but he knew that Roku continued to suffer.

Later, when Sozin's tactics became more aggressive, Roku had revealed to Gyatso the prophetic dream given to him by the previous Avatar. It was the first warning they had received about the approaching comet, but it would not be the last. Roku had died knowing that the world was about to change in a rather profound way and that there was nothing he could physically do to stop it. Gyatso and the Air Nomads had then taken up the cause in his stead.

After Roku's death, Gyatso had mourned for his friend bitterly. He had missed his friend dreadfully and had, initially, rejected the idea of such a vital and powerful man being reincarnated into the fragile body of a helpless infant. It wasn't that Gyatso hadn't known it was possible. He was very well aware that it was. That was the very nature of the avatar cycle. Unfortunately, knowing and accepting were two very different things and Gyatso was nowhere near acceptance at the time of Aang's birth. He had wanted no part of the newly reincarnated Avatar at all.

All of that quickly changed when he met the exuberant child for himself three years later. In his heart, he had resolved not to get attached to the boy at all, despite the monks' firm edict that he must be the one to teach the Avatar airbending. Gyatso had every intention of remaining impersonal with the toddler. Of course, Aang had other plans. He had effortlessly reached inside Gyatso's chest and taken hold of his heart and he had been holding it ever since. Aang's natural ability and eagerness to learn airbending had only endeared him to Gyatso further.

Nine years later, Gyatso found that he loved Aang as much now as he had loved Roku, more so in fact. Yet, instead of that love manifesting itself as the bond a man shared with a brother, now Gyatso loved the young Avatar like the son he'd never had. As a result, he was fiercely protective of Aang. His gifted pupil might have a duty to the world, but Gyatso had a duty to him. He would never allow anyone or anything to hurt Aang. He hadn't been able to protect Roku and that had ultimately ended in tragedy. Gyatso was firmly determined not to fail again.

Of course, he shared none of this with Aang, not their previous friendship and certainly not the incredible guilt and regret he felt over Roku's death. The boy had already been burdened with too much already. He should be enjoying his childhood and making friends and being the talented child he'd always been. Only a couple of weeks before, he had been that child, but the arrival of the comet, which was set to occur within two months' time, had changed all of that.

Gyatso recognized the urgency. He knew they needed to train Aang and they needed to do so quickly. But he also didn't want Aang to suffer or lose anymore than he already had.

"I'll talk to the monks for you," he reassured Aang softly, "I'll explain to them that they are putting you under a great deal of pressure and that you need a bit of room to breathe, but…"

Aang stiffened at the preface. "But?"

"You must meet them halfway," Gyatso chided him, "No more avoiding your training. This is very important, Aang."

He released a small, self-deprecating sigh. "I know. I'll do better."

Gyatso offered him an affectionate smile. "Good."

"So…" Aang drawled with a sly sideways look, "Since you're going to be talking to the monks anyway, do you think you could get them to forget about this whole Avatar business…because that would be great for me."

His mentor failed at suppressing his wry chuckle. "I wouldn't hold my breath waiting," Gyatso advised him.

The saying was common and rather self-explanatory, but when it was said to an Airbender…a person with the ability to hold his or her breath for remarkable amounts of time…it took on even greater depth of meaning. Aang hunched forward, his shoulders stooped low. "So you're saying I don't have much of a chance with that, huh?"

"I'm afraid not."

Aang wilted further. "Yeah…that's what I thought you'd say."

Gyatso gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It will get better."

"That's what you keep telling me," Aang sighed glumly, "But it seems like it's only getting worse. I'm expected to train all the time. My friends won't talk to me anymore. And now I'm having all these weird nightmares and even a few while I'm awake!" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "What else could go wrong?"

While Gyatso was mostly amused by Aang's irascible rant, something in particular he said put the seasoned monk on instant alert. He regarded his pupil with a sharpened stare. "You've been having dreams? What kind of dreams?"

"I told you. Weird ones."

"I did pick up on that part," Gyatso replied, biting back a smile, "Could you, perhaps, be a bit more specific?"

"I don't know. They never make sense. All the events that happen in them are jumbled together, but I still feel like they're connected somehow."

Gyatso tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How long have you been having these dreams?"

"Almost two weeks now."

"And what do you dream?" Gyatso wondered.

"Sometimes, I'm older and I'm on my glider and there's a girl with me. A Water-Tribe girl. Her name is Katara. She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I know that I love her more than anything in the world," Aang recounted, "And then sometimes, I'm in a city and the girl isn't a girl anymore, but a woman. I think we're married and we have children…and I know we're happy together. And sometimes, I'm young like I am now…and I'm scared and alone because you're not there with me. No one is there. In my dream, I'm the last airbender."

"That must be confusing and scary for you," Gyatso murmured.

"It is scary. I don't know why I keep having these dreams, but they won't stop. And when I wake up, they feel so real…like everything that I dreamed was true."

"But it's not true. You aren't alone and you aren't the last airbender. I'm right here with you."

"I know it doesn't make sense. I guess my fear is getting the best of me."

"You know that being a bender means that you must let go of fear, Aang. Otherwise, it will impede everything you do and you will never grow, as bender, but more importantly as an individual."

"Yes. I know."

"And, besides that, maybe your dreams shouldn't make sense…at least not to me," Gyatso considered, "You're the Avatar, Aang, and therefore, you possess an ability to see things that I cannot. Perhaps, there is deeper meaning to your dreams after all. Perhaps, they are trying to tell you something."

"Or perhaps I'm going insane," Aang countered drolly, "I know next to nothing about being the Avatar. I don't know why anyone in their right minds thinks that I can do this job! Keeping my room clean is challenge enough…which, by the way, I still haven't done. How am I supposed to save the world?"

"What you don't know, Avatar Roku will teach you."

Aang regarded Gyatso with a wary glance. "Avatar Roku? You do know that he's dead, right?"

Gyatso's sharp crack of laughter echoed out across the vast sky, briefly startling Appa in his circling flight. It was a long time before his mirth dissipated enough for him to speak. "Yes, I am aware that he's dead," he managed finally, "But that doesn't change the fact that he will act as your spiritual guide and help you learn the things you must do as the Avatar."

"I'd rather you do it."

Smiling sadly, Gyatso looped his arm around Aang's shoulder and brought him closer. "Sadly, this is a journey I cannot help you take, my young friend. But…I can promise you that I will be with you every step of the way."

Aang pitched himself into his mentor's arms, hugging him hard. "I love you, Gyatso!" he whispered fiercely, "I don't know what I would do if you weren't here."

Even as he made the declaration a brilliant light flashed before Aang's eyes. As had been happening for many days now, Aang was transported back to another time entirely. No longer was he in his teacher's arms receiving much needed comfort, but instead he stood over a defeated man, his hands pressed to the man's forehead and chest. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but he could feel the man's energy…his very spirit flooding his body. All around them, the sky was bathed in red as a brilliant comet streaked across the sky. It was as if the world had been set ablaze, but somehow Aang knew that the fires had been abated and the world was at peace.

The vision was brief, but visceral. When Aang abruptly came back to himself he found Gyatso staring at him with a mixture of shock and concern. "Did you have another vision?" he asked Aang tentatively. Because he was unable to form words at that moment, Aang could only nod in confirmation. "What did you see this time?"

"A…A man…" he managed finally after clearing his throat several times, "He…He was on his knees before me. I…I think he was the Firelord. And I…I think I was taking away his bending…because he was going to use the comet to destroy the world…"

Gyatso gasped softly. "The comet? You've dreamed of a comet?"

Aang mistook Gyatso's stunned reaction for incredulity and ducked his head with a sheepish blush. "I told you that it didn't make sense. I've been dreaming about this stupid comet for days now. First, it was because Sozin harnessed its power to destroy the Air Nomads and now I'm dreaming about some nonexistent Firelord using it to destroy the rest of the world. Crazy, huh?"

"No. Not so crazy…" Gyatso murmured absently, "Not so crazy at all."