… Two years. Two long bitter years since Aang had defeated Ozai and had naively thought that he had finally ended the war. In reality all he had really done was get his friends killed and pave the way for Azula to take the throne and begin her reign of terror over the whole world. He had failed the world not once, not twice, not three times, but four times, but what was worse, he failed his family. The closest friends he had believed in him and trusted him with their lives! Even Zuko believed in him! He gave up everything to help the Avatar because he believed that it was Aang's destiny to defeat the Fire Lord and restore balance to the world. It turns out that the only part of his destiny that he did fulfill was defeating Ozai. In everything else he was a failure. Now all he wanted to do was die. Trapped in a windowless cell suspended in a small metal cage away from any earth with guards inside and outside his cell door, always silently watching him he never felt more alone in his life. He had no one to talk to despite the guards because Azula forbade them with threats to their families, and he couldn't even air bend without being severely punished by the guards. Not that he ever bended anymore. He lost his will to live a long time ago, all he ever did anymore was lay at the bottom of his cage, for days on end, completely motionless. If Azula hadn't ordered his guards to force-feed him every couple of days or so, and do whatever it took to keep him alive, he would have been died a long time ago, if not from starvation then from the wounds Azula would regularly inflict on him for her own amusement.
In the shadows silently watching it all, his guards couldn't help but pity him. Avatar or not, he was still just a fourteen year-old boy and they didn't truly believe he deserved all the pain and agony that was visited upon him. Azula showed no mercy when she burned and shocked him to the point of near death, she enjoyed every minute of it, and the guards all soon agreed she was crazy. But they didn't dare oppose her. They had families of their own, people they cared about, and they didn't want the same thing happening to this child to happen to them. So they just stood there in silence, watching in masked horror and shame (for Fire Nation or not, no true warrior would stand by and allow a child experience what Aang was being put through) as day by weary day, the Avatar slowly drifted closer to death. They couldn't help but hope that the end would be soon so their feelings of guilt would lessen as the avatar; the child could finally find some comfort in death. But when they looked at the small haunted face of the Avatar, when thy saw him struggle against them as they forced him to eat, and heard him scream for death in his dreams, they knew that the guilt and shame they felt would never fade away, no matter how his story ended.