A/N: Interestingly, this is the first time in a long while where the real life time of posting (March 12) actually lines up with the dates in the chapter. Again, don't feel like you need to read this monster of a chapter in one gulp. I mark the section headings very meticulously so that you can stop, breathe, and come back to it later :)


10 March. ZUKO

The guru makes his way up the mountain on a lovely spring day, a stiff breeze lifting the flags posted at intervals along the path up to the temple. Zuko and Aang watch his progress through the binoculars supplied by the Mechanist, his figure clean and crisp even at this distance.

"You're sure that's your guy?" Teo asks, holed up with them in the tiny, cramped watchtower.

"Can't imagine what other old man would randomly start scaling a mountain that's known to be uninhabited. And at such a prodigious pace, too," Aang says.

"Hm... I'll take your word for it." Teo still sounds cautious. "If he turns out not to be who you're expecting, don't worry; Dad and I have put up plenty of defenses at every level. This temple won't go down easily."

Zuko's not sure he wants to know. Still, he can understand their concern for security.

"He'll take a while to get up here anyways. Might as well prepare a nice welcome for him." Zuko decides it's best to make a good impression. "Hey Aang, what do gurus like to eat?"

ZZZ

Onion banana juice, it turns out. "...I'll see what the kitchens can do," Teo says, not sounding hopeful. Neither of the components of the guru's favored blend are native to the area or even in season, after all.

"Wonderful!" the guru exclaims cheerfully. After Teo leaves, he confides: "That's not actually my favorite; it just sounds appropriately eclectic."

Aang and Zuko look at each other uneasily, wondering if the guru will be as whimsical with the rest of his teachings.

ZZZ

Earth - Survival - Fear

11 March.

"In order to access the Avatar state, you will need to open all the chakras. Zuko, what do you know about chakras?"

"...er." What are chakras? He side-eyes Aang. Help.

"Chakras are pools of spiraling energy within our bodies. They get blocked by certain emotions, preventing energy from flowing," Aang clarifies.

The guru nods. "Opening the chakras is a very involved experience. You must open them all before you can achieve balance within yourself. Are you ready, Zuko?"

He blows out a quick breath, suddenly nervous. Does it matter if he's ready or not right now? He needs to be, and so he will be.

He feels the silent grip of Aang's hand over the back of his, resting peacefully in his lap. It's not much, but it's comforting at least to know that Aang will be there for him.

"I'm ready."

ZZZ

"The first chakra is the Earth Chakra, located at the base of the spine. It deals with survival and is blocked by fear."

As befits the chakra, they are secreted away deep within the bowels of the mountain, in an echoey cavern with hardly a sliver of sunlight. The guru sits cross-legged on a raised stone plaque, while Zuko and Aang face him side by side.

"What are you most afraid of?"

Zuko's thoughts immediately turn to the first time he had cause to fear for his life: the night he and Lu Ten were attacked by bandits outside Hira'a. It was the night he made his first fire.

That explains much, now that he thinks about it. My firebending comes from fear, so it was always weak compared to Azula's. Hers stemmed from... spite and rebellion, he supposes; she started firebending at the royal academy in defiance of the instructors who refused to teach her at such a young age.

But that night, he wasn't entirely ruled by fear. He believed Lu Ten, his all-powerful older brother, would save him, and that gave him the courage to strike back.

If he really had to take an instance of true fear, it would be the time he received a letter from Ba Sing Se, not from Lu Ten but from Hanxin, his right-hand man.

The truth is, he's overtaxing himself. This is the first night in ages that I've seen him sleep at a normal hour, and that was only because he got a concussion from an earthbender with an honest-to-god mace. I try, we all do, to take on some of the burden, but he still wears himself out.

That was the first time he was confronted with how real the possibility of Lu Ten's death was. Lu Ten had been so badly injured that he couldn't even sit up and write to Zuko himself. Even worse, there was nothing Zuko could do to help him. His cousin's own stalwart drive to push himself to the limits in the interests of the soldiers under his care would ultimately lead to his death.

The guru sounds sad as he intuits what Zuko has just relived. "Your fears are real, and they have come to pass, in spite of your hopes otherwise. But you cannot shrink away from them or allow them to paralyze you. Some things you fear can be prevented; some cannot. You must face them all equally with the hope of salvation."

Zuko frowns internally. That sounds... not promising? But then again, who saved him when he was held hostage by murderous bandits? Himself and his newly acquired firebending. Who tried to save Lu Ten as he was dying? Hanyu, his most capable man, and sometimes, unpredictably, hope is finite. But that is no reason not to muster every ounce of it as he can against that which he dreads.

He grounds himself stably in that thought and lifts his chin resolutely. There is a smile in the guru's voice as he declares, "You have opened the Earth Chakra."

ZZZ

MUSHI

"Do you suppose we'll get to eat dinner some time tonight, Miao?" Jet asks the cat archly, making sure he's loud enough for Mushi to hear.

"Murr?" Miao seems doubtful.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Mushi sighs, squinting at where his latest attempt at target practice ended up, two feet away from the tree he intended to hit. "Might I remind you that you were the one who suggested I learn archery, even though your skill more than makes up for my lack thereof?"

Jet turns a critical eye towards Mushi's failed target. "Ah, it's hopeless. What would you do without me?" He holds out a hand for the bow, and Mushi hands it over willingly.

Suddenly, Jet crouches down, staring through the tall, fallow brush at a flicker of movement far beyond their range. "See that?"

Mushi looks but sees nothing. "What?"

"Rabbit." Jet smirks, his movements slow and measured, easing himself into a muted prowl through the grass. "Leave this to me."

Mushi sets Miao on his shoulder and follows several paces behind, trying to not disturb the grass. He finally sees the white rabbit Jet's stalking, nosing around the brush, unaware of its peril.

The creak of a bow being strung, the nock of an arrow, and then thwang. Faster than Mushi can track, the rabbit twitches aside and disappears.

"Damn it!" Jet springs into action, charging after it.

"Wait, Jet!"

But he's already off, his gait leonine and loping easily over the terrain, swords strapped to his back. Mushi has no choice but to pursue him, Miao digging her claws into his shoulder. Up ahead, Jet's reached some kind of woody marsh, tall, gnarled trees laden with vines and overgrowth, the air dark and ominous.

"Jet!"

"I've got this, just give me a moment!" he calls, not stopping.

Damn it. He's got to keep up or he'll lose Jet. Mushi plunges into the swamp, resigned to a very unwelcome mud bath before dinner.

Before long, he's got bigger problems on his mind. Namely, he's lost. Every tree and stagnant pool looks the same as the last; he wanders endlessly without seeing a trace of Jet's passage.

"Jet?" he calls at intervals. Nothing. "Ugh."

He has an uneasy feeling about this place, like something's watching him and Miao. He surveys his surroundings, but there's nothing to be found. Something creaks behind him, a rustling, scuttling sound like claws on bark; he whirls around - emptiness. A broken branch? Mutant squirrels? Is this swamp haunted? Miao whines in fear, sniffing the air as Mushi brushes against something sticky.

"...what?" He frowns at the stringy, moist substance coating his sleeve. "Ew..."

Stringy...moist...he looks up. It's draped all over the branches, a fetid smell emanating from directly overhead.

Oh. Gods.

Spiders spiders spiders giant spiders spirits save me this isn't how I want to die

He's dimly cognizant of Miao leaping from his shoulder and darting away as he struggles fruitlessly against the ever increasing tangles enshrouding him. Caught like a fly in a web, his awareness fades slowly. Now his eyes dim, hearing still intact, an eerie rattling as the spiders swarm down from the branches, a feast at hand.

I hope Jet managed to get that rabbit

Have a nice dinner

No more Mushi to slow him down

Spiders

Suddenly, the clang of steel, spiders shrieking, a cat yowling, the sickening splat of blood and flesh torn by sharp edges -

"Mushi!"

He tries to respond, but he is fading, unknowing, into the darkness.

MMM

Water - Pleasure - Guilt

12 March. AANG

"The second chakra is the Water Chakra, located in the sacrum. It deals with pleasure and is blocked by guilt."

They are in the same room where Zuko communicated with Avatar Koko's spirit (and got pushed into the fountain for his troubles; how's that for guilt, huh, Aang?) Seated as they are on opposite ledges of the fountain facing inwards, Aang has to look through the water's spray at Zuko's meditating form.

Zuko has told him the circumstances around his mother's disappearance, and it's not difficult to see why he would feel responsible for her absence from his life. As far as he knows, she was forced to leave the palace to protect him, and he considers that his fault.

Don't you think she felt the same way as she left you, Zuko? Aang laments. We rarely suffer our misfortunes in solitude. Grief and anger and guilt and every negative emotion have a way of cycling around and flowing into the next person, like an insidious fountain.

"Guilt is regret at not having acted as you believe you should have in a meaningful instant," the guru intones. "Look at all the guilt that burdens you. What do you blame yourself for?"

"When I set out to wander the world with Zuko, I felt guilty for leaving my mother behind," Aang volunteers. "And Zuko, when I left you behind at the Freedom Fighters' hideout..." He shakes his head, even now disbelieving of the churlishness of his actions. "You needed me, and I abandoned you."

Zuko's eyes are open, limpid and warm, longing to exude comfort and reassurance through the cold mist. They've been over this before; there is little of their hearts that they do not share.

"Realize that our feelings of guilt are colored by what we think others' expectations of us are. Aang, did your mother entreat you to stay? Did she try to stop you?" the guru inquires, knowing the answer naturally but knowing also that Aang needs to verbalize it for himself.

"No. She all but pushed me out the door."

The guru nods. "She knew your duty lay elsewhere. Realize also that these things happen for a reason. Often, this reason is neither pleasant nor obvious except in hindsight."

"Why did you leave, Aang?" Zuko asks, not accusing, but illuminating. "What was your reason?"

There is a leaf floating in the pool, drifting with the spatter of the water. Aang follows it as it wanders beyond the spill, no longer buffeted about constantly.

"I needed space from my anger, centered around you, around what you kept from me." He snatches the leaf up from the water, twirling it between thumb and forefinger. "I found it. And I found more. I found the depths of your love and loyalty; I found the places you would follow me to without hesitation.

"...I found you."

"There's your reason," Zuko breathes, voice like a refreshing bath suffusing him with energy, and those aren't tears in Aang's eyes – it's just the fountain's exuberant spray getting in his face, y'know? Yeah.

AAA

MUSHI

A young boy crouches on the ground amid dust and ashes. Smoke fills the air between them, but through the acrid haze, he is clearly crying. Shudders and thrills shake his tiny frame, face hidden in his hands.

Mushi approaches to kneel beside him, and the boy looks up. Wide, dark eyes drench tearstained cheeks, and he looks so lost, unkempt hair a halo around his face making him seem even smaller and frailer.

"Where are your parents, buddy?" he asks softly, not wanting to spook him. "Why are you crying?"

The boy's tears begin to flow anew, a slight hiccup plaguing his voice. "Because you left me."

...I left you? But...

The trample of hooves strikes up behind him, and the boy jolts to his feet in frenzied flight. Before he can take two steps, a volley of arrows hurtles through the air, meeting their target with dull, muted thuds in his back. He slumps to the ground, facedown and anonymous.

No, Mushi thinks, frantic, even as the stampede of unruly steeds is upon him. He stumbles to the boy's side, turning his limp body over; he needs to know: "Who are you?"

But the visage beneath his hands has changed, now a boy with golden eyes, hair pulled into a high ponytail, eyebrows creased in pain as he gasps out, "Why did you leave me? Why couldn't you have stayed?"

The taste of guilt is dry as bone and salty with blood now his own. Lee...

MMM

Fire - Willpower - Shame

13 March. ZUKO

They are circled around a cozy campfire underneath the stars, and Zuko thinks he has an inkling as to what the next chakra is.

"Third is the Fire Chakra, located in the stomach. It deals with willpower and is blocked by shame.

"What are you ashamed of? What are your biggest disappointments in yourself?"

That is not difficult to surmise. Zuko can think of a plethora of memories surrounding his special acquaintance with shame, but two rise most readily to the surface.

"Avatar Koko. When she saw how my will to kill the Fire Lord was wavering." Do not forget me, Avatar Zuko. More importantly, do not let your name be remembered in condemnation throughout the dark ages, the one who failed to stop the Fire Lord. "When she charged me to finish him off or lose face before the pages of history.

"The Agni Kai against my father." Once he starts, he cannot stop. "I was proud of myself for standing my ground in the war council...until I turned and saw it was my father whom I dishonored."

He gazes across the fire at Aang, who knows the story well enough from Zuko. His bright eyes mirror the stars above. All they are, are fallen stars, grounded meteorites split up like scrap metal and made to withstand the trials of fire, emerging unrecognizable.

"Pride is not the opposite of shame, but its source, Zuko," the guru says gently. "True humility is the antidote to shame."

"If anything, the Agni Kai was the least shameful thing you've ever done," Aang says. "You showed true humility when you equated those soldiers' lives to your own: too valuable to sacrifice as if they were disposable. You should be anything but ashamed of your actions."

Zuko has known this on some level for a long time, but accepting it consciously is quite another matter.

"The advice of the previous Avatars is not to be taken lightly," the guru advises. "However, your pride may be preventing you from completing the task at hand."

He breathes in deeply, gathering his inner fire and letting his unsettled stomach relax. Defeating the Fire Lord is not his task alone, and its rewards will not be his to hoard. With true humility, he will accept the help of anyone who offers. Only with combined forces can they hope to defeat Ozai.

The guru nods in approval. "You have opened the Fire Chakra."

ZZZ

JET

He makes Lu Ten comfortable, pillowed on a mossy tree root, Miao standing guard over his sleep, before heading over to where their unlikely rescuers are gathered.

"Oh, howdy stranger!" One enthusiastic swampbender – Due? – greets. "We were just about to invite you to supper!"

"It's a feast fit for a king!" His friend – Tho, Jet seems to recall – exclaims, extending a huge helping of mystery meat to him on a skewer.

It's a giant fly. I'm eating a giant fly, Jet thinks, panic mounting as the swampbenders watch him eagerly for a reaction. He breaks off a fried leg with a ginger snap. Here goes.

It tastes surprisingly unremarkable, like frog-chicken-legs but tougher.

"Hey, he likes it!"

"See, it ain't so bad." Due claps him on the back. "Now try some of this." He hands Jet a giant curved leaf, the bowl of which clearly contains a huge pickled slug.

Oh gods why.

"So, what did the spiders tell you?"

"They can talk?" Jet asks with some alarm. This swamp just gets weirder and weirder.

"Pffft, he'll believe anything!" The swamp men burst out guffawing, and Jet flushes a little at his own gullibility. How was he supposed to know the swamp spiders can't talk? This swamp is full of the unbelievable.

"They can't talk, but they do show you some pretty wild visions while you're caught up in their webs. It's part of the swamp's general effect, but amplified."

Jet knows what he saw in the tangles of the spiderwebs, inches from death. He saw the maw of the river as it burst the banks of the dam and rushed downhill to engulf Gaipan. He saw Zuko's expression, corrupted with disgust and disillusion.

You ruined yourself, Jet.

He saw the pride that eclipsed his good intentions, leading him to think that only his way was right, that wiping out the village was an acceptable solution.

He does not tell Lu Ten this; he cannot. If Lu Ten is anything like his cousin, he too will shrink away in revulsion, leaving Jet alone with his shame. Fortunately, the swamp seems to have given Lu Ten no shortage of visions to divulge, relieving Jet of the need to share his own.

JJJ

Air - Love - Grief

"What did you see?"

Lu Ten thinks for a moment. "I think I saw you."

Jet stares in stupefied hope, thinking that perhaps... "You remember?"

Lu Ten shrugs, wary of disappointing Jet. "I don't know what I remember. I just saw a child who looked like you, tangled in grief all alone, then struck down by arrows. I saw my brother, too. I... I held him as he died, again."

This time, the grief in his voice is unmistakable, like a thread running through a bolt of cloth that threatens to unravel the whole thing. Jet can't help but fall back on his old ways, stretching out a hand in comfort, wondering how much of the gesture is calculated intrigue and how much is genuine empathy. Sitting as far apart as they are, the only part of Lu Ten he can reach without moving is his ankle.

Lu Ten doesn't shy away, shifting his leg to rest more firmly in Jet's grasp but otherwise barely acknowledging that tenuous touch. His eyes are far away, even as Jet rests his hand over the shallow ridge of bone on the inside of his ankle. A faint pulse meets the pads of his fingers, here a moment, then lost, then found again.

Miao wanders up to them, blissfully unaware of Lu Ten's aggrieved reverie, and eases herself onto the leg that Jet's not holding. Smiling minutely, Lu Ten elevates his knee, sliding the kitten down to rest in the divot between his thigh and his waist.

"There was more," he says at length, scratching behind Miao's ears. The cat purrs delightedly, squirming to maximize contact with his massaging fingers. "I saw someone I've never seen before: an old man with white hair and two scars through his right eye. He was meditating surrounded by candles. Who could that be?"

"No idea." Jet is once again reminded of how little he truly knows of Lu Ten. The task of restoring his memories seems all the more unattainable.

"Hm..." Lu Ten ponders this. "There was a monster, too. It looked like a giant spider, or a scorpion, but it had human faces."

Okay, this is getting really weird. "How many heads did it have?" Surely this bit was just a fever dream and not actually something Lu Ten encountered in the past?

"No, it had one head, but the face kept changing. One moment it was a beautiful woman, next a child, then an old blind man, and then... one of the faces was my own, just for a fleeting instant. There were many more, constantly in flux."

"...yeah, I'm gonna say that was just the spiders messing with your head," Jet dismisses. "It's too weird in any other case. What kind of monster borrows people's faces to display on itself like its own face isn't good enough. That's lame."

JJJ

14 March. AANG

"The fourth chakra is the Air Chakra, located in the heart. It deals with love and is blocked by grief."

Aang's grief is for that which he never had, but Zuko's is for all that he had and lost.

"Is it better to have loved and lost or to never have loved at all?" The guru challenges them to the age-old question.

They are seated on one of the bridges that span the gorges between the many peaks of the Northern Air Temple. At such deathly heights, the air is thin and cold, loveless, unkind, but Zuko is not shivering, and Aang feels a rush of pride at how well his pupil has learned.

"To have loved and lost," Aang says confidently in the same moment as Zuko declares, "To never have loved at all."

The guru's bushy eyebrows go up, perhaps stoked at the prospect of an enlivening philosophical debate.

Zuko sighs. "I don't know that I want to argue about that, Aang." He runs a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable, as if afraid that Aang will accuse him of not valuing his love enough.

"No, Zuko, that's not what I want to do either." Zuko's hair is lovely all mussed up like this, and Aang sends a playful gust over towards him, fluffing out those errant strands and letting them fall back into their proper places. It's as close to touching him as Aang can get in present company.

The guru ahems imperiously as Zuko flails, hair now covering his eyes. Maybe he's used to pupils who are less prone to goofing off in class (and also who aren't hopelessly in love with each other; that's always very distracting). But his gaze softens as he watches Zuko emerge, a faint blush gracing his cheeks, and Aang knows that feeling well.

"You have both known separate but grievous losses that shook the foundations of your lives, like an earthquake that splits two mountains apart." The guru gestures wide at the expanse of bottomless gorge beneath them. "But your loved ones have not left you entirely. Their love is reborn into the love you experience today, from all sides, in all shapes and forms, connecting you like new bridges across tragic chasms."

So it is. Aang looks over the edge of the bridge, at the countless feathery souls he imagines bolstering the bridges of his healing heart. All the new love he has found in the people he's met since leaving home: that is where his supports lie, and that is where he soars in newfound joy and love.

AAA

Sound - Truth - Lies

15 March. JET

"It's sooo hot. Remind me why this is called the Lake of Dreams?" Lu Ten complains as they row across a giant lake under the merciless morning sun.

"You'll see later on," Due promises. He and Tho are a few meters ahead in their own boat. "Just enjoy the sunshine."

"But it's hot and humid. How can I enjoy the sunshine if I feel like I'm underwater?"

"Just take your shirt off and stop moping," Jet says shortly, having already done so himself. Sweat rolls down his shoulders as he lifts his paddle out of the water, plunging it down again in a long, thorough stroke. Behind him, Lu Ten does the same. The swampbenders don't need any such oars for their boats, but they graciously allow Jet and Lu Ten to keep pace.

"Eh...I'd rather not." Lu Ten sounds uncomfortable. "I have a scar under my ribs on the right. It's really awful."

"A scar? From what?"

"...I don't know." At Jet's incredulous stare, he hurries to defend himself. A little flustered, he fumbles with his paddle and loses the rhythm of his rowing, slowing them down. "It's weird, I know, but I think I must have gotten it shortly before I got to Ba Sing Se. That period of time is like a blank page in my memory."

Interesting. Maybe it's from the last battle before he was captured by the Dai Li?

"But that's what we're trying to figure out," Lu Ten says more optimistically. According to the swampbenders, there's some kind of a tree of knowledge across the lake, which will take the entire day to traverse. "The truth might not be so far away now."

"Hm. Well, if you're willing to take the word of a bunch of swamp dwellers with nothing but strategically secured leaves for undergarments, I can see why you might think so," he says waspishly.

"What, since when did fashion sense equal trustworthiness in your value system?" Lu Ten laughs. "Seriously, though; I have to thank you, Jet, for bringing us here. I feel like we're getting closer to solving this mystery and letting me feel more comfortable in my own head. It's all thanks to you."

Thank the gods Lu Ten can't see his face from behind. He sniffs the air suspiciously for any psychoactive fumes. Lu Ten's not usually this open with his affections. He must be really moved.

At the same time, Jet feels a sharp stab of guilt at what he's not telling: what transpired after Lu Ten gave Jet a second chance at life, what he chose to do with his time as a Freedom Fighter, the hundreds of innocent lives he nearly ended. He lied to Zuko the same way he is lying to Lu Ten now, spinning an illusion of himself that holds no more water than a leaking boat.

JJJ

MUSHI

Half an hour later, they find out why it's called the Lake of Dreams. Surrounding them as far as the eye can see is a field of lotus flowers, pink and white in festive splendor, floating on their leafy pads just at the surface of the water.

"Wow." It's dazzling. The sun glances off shimmers of exposed lake here and there, the only indication that they are still on a body of water and not a plain of wildflowers.

"Told you it was worth seeing!" Due calls back to them. "I thought I was dreamin' too the first time I saw it."

"It's beautiful," Mushi murmurs. "Don't you think so, Jet?"

"Mm..." Jet doesn't seem to think so, bringing his paddle down without a care as to where he's placing it and nearly squashing some of the flowers. So much for a romantic boat ride.

They've been paddling for a few hours, and it should feel tiring, especially with Mushi's ailing shoulder, but he finds that his muscles fall into an easy pattern. Repetitive and unchanging, their paddles rise from the surface in sync and plunge to the fore once more, dragging through the water to propel them forward. He doesn't have to raise his paddle too far out of the water and risk overextending his arm or wasting energy. These mindless motions let his thoughts wander, settling close at hand on none other than Jet.

The broad expanse of his back stretches and ripples through each cycle, muscles rolling beneath his skin but not garishly defined. It's mesmerizing how they return and return again in constant motion, never staying in one position for long yet never straying far.

In a way, it is like water itself. A drop of water from this lake may evaporate into the clouds, be carried by wind far over the mountains, fall into the river, flow down to the ocean, where it rises into mist and cloud, to fall back into this lake. Its life contains a certain inevitability.

Some ways ahead of them, he observes the swampbenders' manner of bending, an odd windmilling pattern where they slice the air in eternal circles, just like the row cycle of this paddle boat. Slow and fast, crouching and rising as the current seems to indicate, perennially cycling through the same forms without end.

Change is the only constant, he reflects. Once, I was Lu Ten; somehow I became Mushi; now I may be on my way to becoming Lu Ten again. All that has remained the same is the fact that I am changing.

"See something you like?"

Jet's teasing voice draws him out of heavy thoughts, and he realizes he's been absently staring at Jet's back for long enough to be caught.

"Just thinking about the inevitability of time and how some things never change," he says opaquely, as much to make Jet laugh as to mask his unexpected affection.

"Of course," Jet grumbles, turning back towards the direction they're headed. "Can't learn to take a hint; can drone on about irrelevant philosophical talking points. You must have been a heartbreaker."

Was I? Mushi takes the hint. "You're a very handsome young man, Jet; surely you don't need me to give you any reinforcement. Even Miao thinks so, and I trust her judgment completely. Right, Miao?"

Miao has been hiding in the back corner of the boat under an awning formed by Jet's discarded shirt. She meows her assent, and Jet snorts but says nothing, perhaps appeased.

MMM

ZUKO

"Fifth is the Sound Chakra, located in the throat. It deals with truth and is blocked by lies."

The guru's voice echoes in the sanctuary where just a week ago, Zuko and Aang had stood, surrounded by dizzying bellsong. A concert of hope for the future, full of bright prospects and the truth that Zuko knows: the knowledge of the Air Nomads will not die with Aang.

"We tell lies because the truth is sometimes hard to confront. The lies we tell others stem from our own inability to accept the truth."

Zuko thinks of all the times he's lied about his identity, both as the Avatar and as the Fire Lord's son. It has not been easy, knowing that he is destined to save the world from the most hated man alive, his own father, an ample irony.

But when I told the truth, Toph, Aang, Katara, Sokka, they were able to accept it. To accept me. At their own pace, of course. He wonders if Jet is still wandering in his hatred for the Fire Nation, or if he's managed to find a balm for his broken heart.

"And the lies we tell ourselves stem from the truths that we think others cannot accept." The guru completes his proverb.

He looks over at Aang, eyes closed, seated just feet away from where he stood in the center of the hall, overcome by the concert of the bells. How lovely he was then, blindfolded, tilting his head keenly from side to side as the sound struck his ears. Blindly in love, blindly loving Zuko, who shares his heart and musings.

"I once told myself that I hated the Fire Nation," Aang echoes Zuko's thoughts, eyes still sealed in meditation. "The Fire Lord especially, and by extension, you."

"So what changed your mind?"

"I told myself that lie because I thought certain people wouldn't be able to accept me otherwise. My mother, the spirit of my departed father, every Air Nomad killed in the war... I felt like they would be judging my actions and finding me wanting," Aang explains.

"The ghosts of the past often touch our lives in ways we are barely aware of." No doubt the guru has walked there before, the only one to brave the dead in the aftermath of the Fire Nation's attack on the Northern Air Temple. "But a ghostly jury cannot tell you right from wrong, truth from lies. You must evaluate your own choices and discover the truth for yourself."

Aang opens his eyes and returns Zuko's gaze.

"Found it," he says lightly. "Right in front of me all this time."

ZZZ

Light - Insight - Illusion

16 March. AANG

"The sixth chakra is the Light Chakra, located in the center of the forehead. It deals with insight and is blocked by illusion."

It is dawn, and they are at the pinnacle of the temple's observatory, specks under the vast heavenly vault. Zuko looks like he's currently laboring under the illusion of wakefulness, and Aang bites back a smile.

"The greatest illusion is the illusion of separation."

If Aang had to speak for Zuko, he would name the deaths of his mother and cousin as the ultimate separation. The greatest change is death, and Zuko has bidden his farewell to them both far too prematurely. Such is the world: all too eager to call in its debts and reclaim the lives it's loaned. Death separates them now, and there can be no illusion in that.

As for Aang himself, that's not so hard, either. Since before he has recollection, he has been removed from his father, and once, this caused him no end of bitterness and grief. But now he has Zuko, literally a reincarnation of his father and a continuation of the Avatar spirit. These things have such a magical way of working out, he knows it was meant to be. He takes comfort in being able to anticipate such perfect happenings.

"Psst! Sifu Aang!"

Well, that's one happening he didn't anticipate: Yue Fei and Yue Zha waking up at the crack of dawn to pursue him to the ends of the earth. What could they possibly want?

He sneaks a peek at Guru Pathik, who frowns back at him sternly as if to chastise him for his pupils disturbing the peace. Yikes. He looks back down at his hands folded in prayer, but out of the corner of his eye, the guru winks insolently. Alright then.

He sneaks out of the room to entertain the sisters. "What is it?"

Yue Fei looks at him with a grim complexion reminiscent of the guru's mock austerity. "Sifu Aang, when are we going to have another Air Acolyte class? You skipped yesterday's without warning!"

"Oh sh –, ahem, shoot, yes, I did." He recalls that indeed, yesterday was to be the second weekly Air Acolyte meeting, comprised mostly of village kids too young to be put to work but old enough to get underfoot in play unless they're otherwise supervised. Zuko's suggestion that he start teaching them in the ways of the Air Nomads was met with much enthusiasm.

"I wanted to learn about Avatar Yangchen who brought peace to the world for one hundred years." Yue Zha sounds disappointed. "You said you would teach us, Sifu Aang."

"So I did. I'm so sorry, I know you were looking forward to it. Zuko and I have been busy with the guru... but I should have tried to make time for you." He crouches down before the two. "I promise you, day after tomorrow, I'll make up for it." They'll be done with the chakras tomorrow, Zuko will be able to control the Avatar state, and all will be well.

"Pinky promise?" Yue Fei asks, very concerned about Aang's fidelity.

"Naturally." He extends both pinkies for each one to take, solemnly swearing himself to his word.

AAA

"Just as great as the illusion of separation is the illusion of permanence. Things that we think will endure pass beyond remembrance. Some things cannot last forever; others persevere, but in forms much changed from before.

"What changes are you resisting? What old pillars do you still cling to?"

The sun is rising. A new day is beginning.

"I used to think that I would one day found a new generation of Air Nomads," Aang says tentatively. He's never explicitly discussed it with Zuko, one of the few things too close to a ragged, painful edge of his heart.

Zuko hears the implications of his words and straightens, all thoughts of sleep banished.

"It seemed impossible but also requisite. All Air Nomads innately possess airbending, therefore all airbenders must be the children of other airbenders, of whom I am the last.

"All my life, I've never believed I could fully embody the characteristics of a true master, despite my tattoos. I could never reach the spirit world, too attached to this one. It would be a slap in the face to my father's legacy if I couldn't even keep our race from dying out."

"Aang, you don't have to – " Zuko starts to say, words strained, paining him to say them.

"No." Aang holds up a hand. "I refuse, of my own will, to take the path prescribed for me by myself long before I ever met you."

"Air is the element of freedom," the guru declares. "There is no need to draw the circle of your own prison for the sake of your people, Aang."

"But..." Zuko seems more perturbed than expected, not having mentally prepared himself for this.

"There will be other ways, Zuko." Oddly, talking to Yue Fei and Yue Zha seems to have settled Aang's fears on this topic. "The freedom to abandon tradition is also the freedom to choose new ways, and I choose you."

AAA

JET

"Everything is connected," the tree man says. "We're all the same, you and I and little Ms. Whiskers here." He addresses Miao on Lu Ten's shoulders. "We all live in the same world and love and fear the same things. There's nothing separating us but the illusions of difference we choose to create and believe in."

Lu Ten looks enthralled, gazing up at the ancient banyan tree like it's some kind of deity. Jet resists the urge to shrug and turn his back on all this mumbo jumbo. He thought there would be some kind of fruit of knowledge, or a secret message carved somewhere, but it's just the tree. It doesn't look that different from the ones back home in the forest.

"Even death is an illusion. Those who appear to be gone are in fact not so far away – if you know where to look for them."

"Where?" Lu Ten asks, and oh, he's the perfect audience. Jet grits his teeth.

"In your heart, I suppose; that's where the spirits of our loved ones live on, or so I'm told," he spits out, suddenly angry beyond proportion. Lu Ten turns to him in surprise.

"Not always." Tree-man smiles benevolently despite his outburst. "Why don't you let the banyan tree tell you?"

"No thanks," Jet refuses. "I'd rather not trust a tree that tells me dead people are alive and that I'm the same as any firebender."

"Jet..." Lu Ten starts, but Jet cuts him off.

"Go, Mushi. You'll get more out of this than I'll ever care to."

Lu Ten sighs. "All right. Hold onto Miao for me, then. I don't want her to get lost exploring the tree."

He hands over the cat and follows the guru away, up the broad roots of the tree, up a path seemingly carved into the trunk and branches themselves, out of sight.

Miao purrs inquisitively in his hands, and he feels like he needs to explain to her. "How would you feel if your whole family was dead, but some know-it-all came along and said, 'Nah, you just have to feel them in your heart; death is an illusion, yada-yada-yada' – that's bullshit. The dead are gone forever."

Miao blinks up at him, uncomprehending. "You're just like me, though maybe you're too young to remember your mom and your siblings." He sighs. "Well, let's just hope Lu Ten learns something from all this."

JJJ

MUSHI

He follows Huu up through the tree, the way made of natural grooves and manmade paths. "What do you think I'll see?" he asks.

Huu smiles. He has a kindly face, the face of a guru, but the cloudy skies cast an ominous shadow over his profile. "I don't know," he says, seeming to take great joy in his non-answer.

From this high up, Mushi can feel the dampness of the air, the hair on his skin standing on end. There is a sensation of power here, of inestimable force. The clouds amass their bulk across the overcast sky, a stalwart stormfront that rumbles with distant thunder every now and then.

They are standing at a fork in the branches high above the canopy of the swamp. Mushi reaches down, inspired to touch the bare bark and listen.

Like a whisper, it grows; like a candle miles away on a clear night, it brightens – a feeling that Mushi knows is the one he must follow, and follow it he does.

He begins to see a path behind his closed eyes: north of here and a little east, beneath the slopes of a forested hill sprawls a valley, somewhere that meant something to him once. Untilled, uninhabited, there is nothing and no one there, but Mushi feels a pull to that place. It is significant.

His focus shifts, leaving the valley, traveling still farther north and west. By the banks of a great river and there, standing grim and alone, is the old man he saw in his spiderweb visions.

Who is he? Somehow, Mushi feels they have not met before – but they will. It is meant to pass.

He looks up at Huu, who seems perfectly aware of what has just transpired in Mushi's head. "I think...I think I know where to go now."

Huu nods. "The banyan shows many things. How you interpret them is beyond its control."

Mushi turns his gaze to the branches beyond where they now stand. "I think it has more to show me. I need to go farther."

"Be its guest," Huu says graciously. "Some things, the tree shows only to certain people. I am sure you will learn much."

Mushi leaves him there, approaching the branch point with care. The path he steps onto leads him to a stout limb near the apex of the tree. Once he sets foot there, he has no handholds or safety nets: just the tree, himself, and the sky.

Stark and somber, the sky before a thunderstorm is infinitely powerful and exhilarating. He breathes in deeply, and though the air is heavy with water, it doesn't feel as stifling as on the lake. There is a change ready to be wrought here. He feels it.

A flash of lightning strikes in the distance, and he considers it, feet firmly planted beneath him. Lightning is the separation of positive and negative energy by the amassing of so much water high above. Positive and negative long to be together again, pulled towards each other until they unite just before striking the ground. That discharge of energy upon meeting is lightning's power, its fated flash.

It is amazing to witness up close, and Lu Ten keeps his eyes skyward. Something is coming, something that will change him forever. It is in the water, in the air, and his hair stands on end as a flash of lightning materializes itself so close, he can taste its charge, and all the heavens are aglow with its blinding light. Mutely, he reaches a hand up towards the epicenter, just as positive and negative crash back together, breaching one finger in a searing apotheosis.

MMM

JET

He's just finished demonstrating some useful bird calls to Miao when he sees a bright flash and hears a deafening roar, the sound of wood splitting and a body crashing through the tree.

(He knows that sound from experience, having lost control swinging through the branches a few too many times when the Freedom Fighters first moved to the forest).

"Oh my god." He watches Lu Ten fall from the heights of the banyan, down past its roots, down into the canopy of the swamp. Some eighty feet all told, and who knows what muck he's landed in or if he's even still in one piece. "Oh my god."

Jet retains the presence of mind to stuff Miao down the front of his shirt, but the rest of his body is geared for action. He has to find Lu Ten.

He dashes through the brush and stagnant pools of the swamp, rushing towards where he estimates Lu Ten's trajectory ended. He could be injured, in pain, dying...

No. I'll find him alive.

"Lu Ten!"

There! Between the ridges of a gnarled tree's roots, just beyond the water line, Lu Ten lies curled and unmoving.

"No," he chokes out, splashing nearer, frantically rushing to his side. "Lu Ten..."

He stirs suddenly, a shuddering twitch that runs through his whole body. "Don't touch me!"

Jet stops, just feet away. "...why not?"

He thinks back to the flash of lightning – if he touches Lu Ten, will he be shocked into oblivion?

Miao does not heed Lu Ten's warning; all she knows is that her human is in distress, and she needs to go to him. She leaps out from Jet's shirt and bounds to Lu Ten, snuggling into the curve of his side as he lies still.

Nothing happens.

Lu Ten sucks in a quaking breath, one hand automatically going to pet Miao. It seems there is no residual lightning left on his body, and that at least is a good sign.

Jet all but begs. "Lu Ten, please."

Finally, he nods, opening the circle of his arms, and Jet scrambles to his knees, almost bodily lifting Lu Ten from the floor in a desperate embrace.

"Lu Ten," he gasps, too torn apart by what he could have lost to care that that is not who he is right now. "Lu Ten..."

He rests one hand on Jet's back in silent comfort. "I'm alright, Jet. It's okay. We're okay."

It's been a long while since Jet has been on the receiving end of those words, the one to be comforted and reassured rather than the one taking care. He relaxes into Lu Ten's arms and wholeheartedly, childishly believes him.

JJJ

MUSHI

"What happened up there?"

Mushi closes his eyes, recalling those final electric moments before he fell. "I think the lightning struck me, but it didn't go through me into the tree. It went back out again."

Jet looks confused. "What do you mean? You're not injured at all."

They're back on the lake, heading for the far shore in the opposite direction from the swamp – Jet wants to gain as much distance as he can from that place. He paddles slowly, letting Mushi rest in the fore of the boat with Miao.

"I wouldn't say that," he hedges, rubbing at his right shoulder. It twinges every now and then when he shifts positions. He must have overextended his right arm when releasing the lightning. Jet notes his discomfort.

"Another wound that you don't know how you got?" he guesses.

"Yes, actually." Mushi sighs. The more he thinks about it, the more he wonders how he was able to stay so complacent in Ba Sing Se, never questioning the gaps in his memory, until Jet came along. "Hurts whenever I overreach my arm span. I'm like an old man."

Jet snorts. "So how could the lightning possibly have gone through you without killing you?"

"I felt it separate as it passed into me, into positive and negative energy." He pauses, recalling the sensation. "It didn't recombine until I released it from my other hand."

"You're losing me there."

"What I mean, in a manner of speaking, is that... I redirected it." It's surreal. He shouldn't be able to do this.

"You know, you used to be able to generate lightning itself, but I've never heard of anyone redirecting it from an outside source," Jet says.

This is crazy. He's a firebender, but he can't bend anything on purpose – just accidentally and in life-threatening situations, apparently. It figures.

"Do you... remember anything?" Jet asks cautiously.

He props one hand up under his chin, looking back at Jet. "No, but I feel like I'm on the cusp of remembering. We're so close."

We're so close.

MMM

Thought - Cosmic energy - Earthly attachment

17 March. ZUKO

"The last chakra is the Thought Chakra, located at the crown of the head. It deals with pure cosmic energy and is blocked by earthly attachment."

On the highest point of the highest peak in the mountain range, they are as far from the bosom of the earth as they can be.

What attaches me to this earth?

So many things, so many people on this earth tie him to it. How can he ever let them go? But if he wants to achieve full control of the Avatar state, he must. His mother, his uncle, Master Piandao, Toph, Katara, Sokka. All the people he's met along his travels, some of whom he does not remember, but who look to him all the same to restore balance. Shyu. The crazy herbalist. Old Man Ding. Tyro and Kani. Dock/Xu/Bushi. Jinora. The Freedom Fighters. Teo, the Mechanist, the people of Cold Mountain Temple. Lee. Hanyu.

"There are many forms of attachment, and not all of them have to do with love," the guru drones. "Consider also the relationships you develop out of duty, or spite, or hatred. These too tie you to the earth, just as strongly as those attachments formed from love."

It's true. Foremost, his duty to defeat the Fire Lord – how can he let his father go? What about his less antagonistic attachments: Jet, Hama, Toph's parents, General Mung, every enemy Fire Nation soldier they've ever come across? The world he is trying to save is for them too, regardless of how much they may want to kill him before he manages it.

Azula. He shouldn't care. They've long since ceased to be brother and sister in practice, but some part of him does want to see her again. Maybe to make up and relive happier memories, maybe just to show her how far he's come, despite everything she never envisioned him achieving. Either way, she is indispensable in his mind.

"I tend to think of it in terms of Guru Laghima. An earthly attachment is anything that would prevent you from meditating alone on a mountaintop for forty years," Aang contributes. "Laghima gave up all his earthly attachments, so he was able to spend the last forty years of his life floating above the ground in perfect enlightenment."

"Very astute, Aang," Guru Pathik praises. "Maybe one day you will be a guru too!"

"I'm trying to keep my career paths open," Aang says primly. "Glassblower, animal caretaker, guru, I've thought about them all."

"Your metaphor does beg the question, though: what if you stay on the mountaintop for only thirty-nine years and six months before coming down for something? Would that be considered an earthly attachment?" the guru challenges. "Why the arbitrary determinant of forty years?"

The guru and Aang launch into a heated discussion of numerical theory, leaving Zuko to his own devices, though he wonders if they are not in fact doing it for his sake. He needs time and willpower to divest himself of his attachments.

Several hours later...

Most of them do not prove difficult to leave behind, except the most fundamental: Fire Lord Ozai... and Aang. No one else alive exerts a stronger pull over his life.

"You must learn to let them go, Zuko," the guru says kindly.

"How, though?" Zuko demands. "Take my father, for example. How am I to let go of my struggle against him? That's the whole point of me being the Avatar."

The guru shakes his head. "The purpose of the Avatar is not solely to defeat the Fire Lord, but to bring balance to the world. Sometimes these two things are not the same."

"I think it's less about vowing not to kill Fire Lord Ozai in this instant, but rather, allowing yourself to choose not to if the decision is right." Aang knows the struggles Zuko has put himself through with regards to this dilemma. "Open yourself up to the possibility of alternatives; don't cling to one prescribed path just because you think you have to. Just like me and my career options."

Well, he's not too far off the mark there. Zuko offers a faint twitch of a smile at this wise advice, convincing enough to twist the corners of Aang's mouth into genuine beams of sunshine. And therein lies the second dilemma: he cannot let go of Aang.

"If you were dying – " No. He firmly stops that thought short. Never. "If you needed my help... who cares about forty years of enlightenment? I'd give up my own life if it could save you."

"That's not how it works, though." Aang is serious now, voice low and passionate, back straight and shoulders proud, completely in control of his heart. "If I had to, I would give you up, too. Only if it was the right thing to do, but I would."

From somewhere beyond their meditation grounds, the sound of a stone bouncing down the slope reaches them, perhaps dislodged by a bird or a mountain fox. Zuko thinks it may be the sound of his heart breaking.

Aang mistakes his silence for disbelief. "I'll show you."

He closes his eyes, fingers interlaced, and breathes out, slow and long. On his next inhale, Zuko blinks and stares, riddled with shock, as Aang's figure blurs. Like a shadow, an almost translucent image of him disassociates from his body, a second, ethereal skin floating unsupported. It drifts higher and higher above them, climbing beyond sight, even as his body remains.

"Very good, Aang," the guru murmurs, as if Aang can hear him in this quasi-spirit-apparition state. Maybe he can. "You have opened all the chakras."

"Excellent, Azula," their father lauds. "You've mastered the fourteen basic forms much faster than most do. You are ready to move on to the next level." He turns a disapproving gaze to his son. "And what about you, Zuko?"

It's terrifying how easily unpleasant memories can corrupt the present, but maybe it's the push that he needs.

He has let go of Azula. He has let go of his father. He can let go of Aang.

"Zuko, if you are not ready to open the chakra, you may not wish to proceed," the guru counsels him, sensing his turbulent emotions. "You will block yourself from accessing the Avatar state at all."

Zuko ignores him; he can do this, just like Aang. He closes his eyes.

There is a transcendental staircase before him, the path to the center of pure cosmic energy. He alights on the literal path to enlightenment. See? It's not so hard. He's let go of all his earthly attachments. There's no one left to hold me back.

He's almost there. He's almost there –

A hand outstretched

He can see the world below, discarded

He's about to touch his cosmic self, he's almost there –

Without warning, the steps collapse, and for a breathless moment, he is suspended in midair –

Only to fall, and fall, and fall.


A/N: Thank you for reading! Leave a comment if you saw something you liked ;)

Notes on the writing process here: archiveofourown dot org/works/7019827/chapters/42742028

Refer to "Bellsong", an Avatar Zuko extra for when Zuko refers to the concert of the bells (and the inspiration for forming the Air Acolytes): archiveofourown dot org/works/16790941