Chapter Thirteen: Rogue Will
256 AG, Early Autumn
Eastern Spirit Portal, Knotted Toe, Eastern Plate, Earth Continent

For the first time ever, Aiwa's transit between the worlds was not an unstable experience. As reality wove itself around her, she stumbled out of the Spirit Portal, but held her balance. The slight ache in her head was already fading.

The sound of rushing air drew Aiwa's attention, but before she could react a rough hand clamped over her mouth. As she reached up to tug at the stone fist a second gauntlet latched onto her free hand and dragged her to the wall of the deep clearing, grinding her face into the dirt. She struggled against the powerful grip, but to no avail. The sound of footsteps upon the vines came to her ears, and Aiwa caught a glimpse of black flex-steel out of the corner of her eyes.

Someone sighed.

"Aiwa, what's wrong with you?" Bataar's voice exasperated, and Aiwa sensed some anger, too. A hand was placed upon her shoulder. "Do you know how this looks? Running off is suspicious behaviour – and this is twice in almost as many days! Are you looking for trouble? 'Cause you've found it now: I'm sorry, but this warrants restraint until ICE."

The clasp over Aiwa's mouth fell away, and she swallowed painfully.

"I don't care," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I had to do it!" Her jaw was aching against the hard stone of the cliff.

"Then you brought this on yourself."

For a moment, the grip on Aiwa's shoulder tightened in reproval, but only a second later, the hand was gone.

"Let's go," commanded Bataar, and as Aiwa heard the sound of his footsteps recede into the distance, another rose up, roaring and close: the throb and hum of a Huntingbird. The stone gauntlets cuffed her hands together behind her back, and Aiwa was turned roughly around. A pair of faceless UPF earthbenders forced her forwards towards a waiting metal platform hanging from a steel cable that glinted in the light of the nearby Portal.

Aiwa took one last look at the spiritual glow, and her heart sank.

"You can make this much easier for yourself," Bataar spoke sternly, "if you just talk to me, if you tell me what you did, where you went, and who you met. If the Shinju confirms that you've told me the truth of your own volition, it'll shed good light on your assessment. For what it's worth," he continued, tone softening a little, "I don't think you're compromised, just...confused." He smiled with what little kindness was possible in the situation. For all he knew, she really could be a full-blown traitor.

"What's 'the Shinju'?" Aiwa blurted out in spite of herself.

"It's the truth-seer machine that was clandestinely developed and subsequently put to use in weeding out the compromised Ancient. But, Aiwa, can't you just tell me what –"

"I'm not speaking with anyone but Xue," Aiwa responded forcefully, "and I don't care about the ICE."

"Then you're a fool," retorted Bataar, leaning back in his seat, arms folded and expression stern once more.

"Maybe I am, but at least I have principles!"

"And he doesn't? The man's a Preservation Senior! He has decades more experience than you."

"But are his intentions good?"

"Just what, do you suppose, are good intentions? And it doesn't even matter! You're potentially about to be put to death."

"I'm the Avatar! They need me as much as I need them, and they've put too much time and effort into building my reputation back up and growing me personally."

"We'll see. If they conclude that you're compromised –"

"They won't."

"As I said, we'll see."

Aiwa didn't know what time it was, only that the sky outside was incredibly dark. It had to be early morning, for she had spent many hours in the Spirit World and was tired. The faint glow of the rising Sun was hovering in the east. The sky was a beautiful deep blue, now she stared into its depths. There were hints of orange on the horizon, and faint rays of light tickled the highest clouds. The throb and hum of the shift-wing's engines was soothing, and with good reason, for as long as the wings beat and the turbines roared, they were still far from the Silent Fortress.

Aiwa's fear was subsiding. She still dreaded her return as a prisoner, having crossed the line one too many times, but the source of her fear had shifted. What caused her greater worry now was not her own fate, but rather her inevitable showdown with Xue. His anger and disappointment would be extreme, and even if she despised him, she feared this more than what they would do to her.

But what did that mean? Did she really...respect him? Was it even possible to respect that man?

Aiwa closed her eyes and relaxed back into her seat. Outside, the light was creeping over a cold world, but inside, the dark cabin was safe and warm.

An alarm sounded in the cabin, and Aiwa jerked awake.

"Nothing to worry," the pilot called out. "Just turbulence."

"Is the alarm really necessary?" Bataar grumbled.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Aiwa tilted her head to one side and stared mindlessly at the rear hatch. Her head was hurting again. She wondered vaguely why the expected misery and hopelessness had not yet set in. She let her mind wander over all that she had learned, desperate to hold onto as much of her conversation with Zaheer as possible. She could tell that much of their exchange was already slipping away.

So...

Junto was a psychopath? It explained a lot, but was a disappointing end to one thread of Aiwa's interest. Could the sum total of suffering in the present really have been caused by a few faulty circuits in one man's brain? And how had the past Avatars simply let it happen? Couldn't they have somehow intervened to change his ways?

Aiwa wondered if she was beginning to obsess, if perhaps it was all too much for her to handle. Yes, it made sense that pursuing the truth would further her ideal in becoming an Avatar for Peace, but could it not also interfere with her duties as the Avatar?

"Duty be damned – I want the truth!"

"Which truth? What is it that you still seek? What unanswered questions are there?"

She rubbed her temples, scowling inwardly at how reasonable her other self was sounding.

She no longer knew the answers to those questions: she didn't know what she didn't know. The facts were shaky, that was certain. The official history according to the Preservation was beginning to irk her, but she wasn't sure why. Somewhere, hidden deep within the web of interconnected ideas about the past and the present, there was an incompatibility. She couldn't put her finger on it, but how could she? Xue was right. They had never lied to her…

"Haven't they?"

"We'll see. I intend to challenge Xue over everything I've learned."

"And what have you learned? Only that there is more in this world than the Preservation either knows or has told you about."

"I'm the Avatar! It's becoming impossible to tell what they really want with me. Why not give me all the facts and let me grow?"

"It can't be that simple. If nothing else, we can say that the Preservation is prudent in its dissemination of knowledge."

Aiwa let a slight smile cross her face. These internal arguments were amusing, but better still, they could lead to interesting insights and conclusions. One they had produced during her most recent time of contemplation in the Spirit World – an inference to the best explanation – had fantastic explanatory power.

Firstly, Aiwa knew that the past Avatars had despised and rejected Junto – at least, Zaheer had told her so. And Aiwa was beginning to trust Zaheer far more than was probably wise.

Secondly, she knew that Avatar Korra had, if only grudgingly, allowed herself to be studied to a small extent. It was a necessary part of the scientists' plan to help her reconnect with her past lives. The neurological data that had come from that Avatar had, ironically, been of paramount importance in assisting her successor in overcoming her influence.

Thirdly, and following from the previous premise, Aiwa also knew that an Avatar possesses a brain far, far different from that of the average human. Structural differences are required to bend all four elements and to enter the Avatar State, not to mention ease passage between the two dimensions of reality, the two parts of one whole. But this philosophy, the raw knowledge that such abilities depend upon nothing more than a specific brain state was the pebble that caused the avalanche. And with the Jishu's development of mind-mapping and possession of the most skilled surgeons in the world, Junto had finally been able to access his ultimate power.

And so Aiwa concluded this: Korra and the other past Avatars had used whatever power they had as isolated spirits to block Junto's access to the Avatar state. Junto was far from the only Avatar in history to use his powers to harm others, but he was the first to do so remorselessly. With his unswerving intention to make the world a better place according to his own limited vision, he was the first truly evil Avatar. And his intentions had consequences beyond his direct actions. Those who still lived in this cold world, those who remembered his touch, recalled it with hatred and with horror. If the Avatar was to mean anything good to mankind in the future, Aiwa had a lot of work to do. Korra and the others had surely foreseen this danger, the destruction of the Avatar's name in the eyes of the people, besides the raw damage Junto's actions caused. So they fought to hold him back, to stop him inflicting so much pain and suffering upon the world…but they had ultimately failed.

Then, there was Zaheer.

Who was he really? A former Red Lotus member at least partially responsible for Junto's death, and with a fixation on the new Avatar. Zaheer's initially cryptic behaviour had given way to an untrammelled discussion flowing through ancient and recent history and into the present state of the world. But why? What was his erstwhile goal, the one he had recently given up? What were his purpose and intentions now? His words had implied that the Red Lotus had not disappeared completely, but how could he know that? Was he their prisoner? He was surely someone's prisoner.

Aiwa was tired. Her confusion and frustration were too great, yet the mystery of it all remained. They were indelible to her. How would this all end? With her death? With everyone's? With a life of deceit under the "guidance" of the Preservation? Or with balance and truth?

"You're now equating balance and truth, or at least putting them on the same side in this battle."

"Is there really a battle?"

"I think so. It's insidious, and the assumption that these concepts take sides at all is dangerous."

Soon enough, Aiwa nodded off again.

One day later, the Huntingbird was nearing the Silent fortress. The journey had been dull and stagnant. Aiwa had no desire to speak with Bataar, and he appeared too thoughtful to engage with her anyway.

"So what's going to happen?" she asked calmly, finally deciding that the question needed asking. The future was bleak, but still uncertain. Was there hope for her?

"Well," Bataar spoke, straightening up in his chair, "I've been in contact with the Seniors, and we've made a decision. I had very little input, but I'm…pleased with the outcome. I think it's appropriate for you." His face was impassive, and Aiwa wasn't sure what he felt. "You'll be taken to the edge of the Habitation Zone, and left outside."

"Of course," she breathed, almost laughing. She turned away to stare out of the window, quoting out loud "'My future is of my own volition.'" It was a line from one of the earliest drafts of Preservation philosophy. An individual's actions when given certain freedoms could speak volumes about their designs and inner struggles. It seemed that the Preservation was going to give Aiwa her freedom and see what she'd do. But was that freedom at all? For they would surely just recapture her if she chose to leave and set off into the cold wilderness. They still needed the Avatar.

"You'll be given this one, final opportunity. No more." Bataar was serious, but Aiwa was unimpressed.

"I'm fairly certain something to that effect was said last time…"

Aiwa's voice trailed off as she looked through the window. Far below, the clouds that shrouded the expansive Western Serpent's Sea and Old Shewen Land were parting to reveal the grey mass that was the Habitation Zone.

"Pilot, land in the assembly area by the eastern gates."

"Yes sir."

As the Huntingbird put down in a wide clearing of bare stone, the trees all around were battered by the uncaring winds from its wings. Aiwa shivered a little, though not from the cold. She was marched outside by the UPF earthbenders and stood some distance from the waiting aircraft, which was still powered up.

"Alright, let her loose now. She's no threat."

The earthbenders pulled off the stone cuffs, and Aiwa rubbed her wrists. She knew the game they were playing. She knew the choices being offered her.

Bataar gave her a strange look. It was not unkind, but filled nevertheless with the sort of reproach one might receive from a best friend: perplexed and disappointed. The chief chi-technician had once been such a jolly man, full of life and brimming with pride in his work. He had been so motivated, and had shown it too. Now he was just what the Preservation needed: a man who did his job better and better as the years went by, but whose soul seemed to seep away with the passage of time. There was very little left of the old Bataar Junior. He was a sober, serious man, with the all traces of youthful vigour lost to the years of his past.

"You know what happens now," he said simply, before signalling to the men to rejoin him in the Huntingbird. "Make your choice."

As the shift-wing blasted off and away into the sky, heading north for the airstrip, Aiwa stood alone in the clearing. She was suddenly aware of how very cold it was becoming, but made no attempt to warm herself. Her will had been drained and now her mind ached with her tiresome and seemingly futile pursuit inner peace…

What was it that she sought? Was did she really want?

In the end, that was why they had left her out here, beyond the walls of the Habitation Zone. If she wanted to help – if she had reason to come back to them – then she could re-enter the Silent Fortress. If not, then the wide world awaited, cold, hostile, and almost completely devoid of human life.

She had to choose.

Alone in the cold clearing, the magnitude of her predicament dawning upon her, Aiwa began to pace. Her mind was now racing, thoughts tearing and churning up the sea of consciousness like waves whipped up by a mental typhoon. Soon, it all came pouring out, and the competing entities within her head argued out loud.

"Why would I not go back? Everyone I know and love is there – I should care more about them than I do!"

"And everyone who does you wrong is also there. What is the Preservation still hiding?

Aiwa pressed her hands to her temples, growing angry.

"I don't know!" she cried bitterly. "Nothing! I haven't been lied to, I haven't even treated unfairly at all. I'm the one who's out of line, not them."

"What about Zaheer? How does he fit in to all of this? And Junto? Something's still not right there. And the Bright Lance? So much secrecy for something that doesn't admit of a proper explanation. Not to mention that book –"

Aiwa sighed. She knew what she had do. The decision had made itself.

Aiwa had nothing but her confusion now. In the wilderness she would die, starved of food and warmth and the answers to all her questions. She was missing Pema and San, and even her parents a little. The warmth of family love was returning after their argument. And in spite of all that was still unclear, Aiwa held the Preservation's stated intentions as her own goals. No one escapes their conditioning. She had to go back.

Aiwa strode through the clean streets, keeping her hood up and her wits about her. They probably were expecting her return, and both parties knew that re-entry would lead to ICE, but it didn't matter. This was submission to Preservation justice and will.

She passed a number of faceless UPF soldiers outside a dark food hall. An elderly woman in old Fire Nation garb was muttering anxiously to a dark visor, and Aiwa heard a distinct reply from the soldier.

"Look, this is all we can do. If you don't like it, leave! You're always free to do that."

"I'd never survive. I need my family, and I –"

"Yeah, who takes care of you and your family? Who provides, while the Winter rages outside?"

The woman plodded away, muttering to herself, and the soldier shook their head.

"Move along, please. This is a secured zone." Another soldier had addressed Aiwa, who had stopped to observe the exchange. Aiwa nodded, and headed off towards the Central Compound.

"Zhain!"

The firebender looked up, his expression changing in a heartbeat from sullen boredom to surprise. Aiwa had been charging up the green hill towards the Central Compound, her mind filling slowly with anger like the trickling stream that feeds a lake. It had to flood eventually. The cold breeze amongst the bamboo thickets and small pines did little to cool her temper, and the sight of her arrogant firebending teacher only incensed her further.

"Aiwa! Hello…?"

His voice trailed off at the look on her face, and he took a step back. Aiwa barely knew where to begin. What had he heard about her?

"Have you seen Pema? Or San? Are they around?" she asked, struggling to keep the aggression out of her voice.

"Hey, keep your tone civil, please –"

"Civil be damned!" Aiwa cussed. Her rage was growing – but why? What was its source and its speed? Out of the vastness of her consciousness, something was emerging: a shapeless idea, vague yet present, obvious yet impenetrable.

"Not recently, sorry. Why, have you lost them?" Zhain, normally an epitome of mental stability, was evidently quite disturbed by Aiwa's seemingly unwarranted aggression. "Actually, thinking about it now, I haven't seen them for a few days –"

Aiwa swore loudly and barged past him.

The wind was picking up, its icy touch biting into her skin. Autumn was well and truly upon them, and winter would follow close behind.

The Central Compound had passed by as if in a dream. Aiwa scarcely felt the cold now. A few familiar faces had called her name with uncertainty, but she felt unstoppable. In any case, she certainly could not have stopped herself.

Up and up she trekked, full of a seemingly alien energy. The panels of corrugated steel that sheltered the crenellations glinted in the patchy sunlight as the cloud cover slowly dispersed, the day moving into afternoon. Aiwa was tired, but not yet ready to yield to weakness, physical or mental.

As she reached the top of the rise, Aiwa's exhaustion finally caught up with her, draining away her energy and her anger. Ice glinted on the twin peaks, shining down like the last beacons of civilisation. The sparse pines were bathed in the bright light of the emerging Sun, and the grey shape of the Sanctuary Gardens was just visible beyond the trees. The faint sounds of the wind clawing at the cliff bells reached Aiwa's ears. Before her, ominous and impassive, stood a figure in flowing grey robes. His expression was unfathomable.

"Welcome back," Xue spoke quietly, his lips barely moving.

Aiwa breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. This was her surrender. If there was any intention of apprehending her, she offered herself freely now.

But Xue did nothing.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Aiwa was spent, her physical form withering from fatigue and her stomach churning with sudden hunger. She had not eaten properly in several days.

"It's good to be back," she replied hoarsely, still catching her breath.

"I trust your trip was…enjoyable?" Xue's act was translucent, but Aiwa knew how to respond. Even submerged in total confusion, she had no time for his games.

"I think 'enlightening' is a more appropriate word."

"Quite," Xue spoke musingly. "Well, shall we?"

Aiwa nodded. She wanted to speak, to challenge him over the secrecy and the mysteries, to reveal what she had discovered in order to force his hand. But what had she discovered? In the Preservation's eyes, surely nothing of consequence. There was no lie she could pick apart, no ill intention she could assault – nothing.

And so she submitted.

"Come," Xue spoke coldly, turning as he began to walk away, "don't loiter – we have much to discuss."

Aiwa followed her teacher through the sparse alpine woods that smelled of rot and fungus, into the grey concrete of the first office complex, through the clean red and white corridors, and through Xue's own office into the garden beyond. She felt powerless. There was great frustration within her, but it felt...unjustified. The physical means with which to give it voice and power had dissipated. Even if she hadn't followed, it wouldn't have mattered. In spite of her own freedom, she suddenly felt more helpless than ever before. The trio of stone sentinels seemed to glare down at her, cold and judging.

At the centre of the stone plinth, by the sundial, Xue turned back to her.

"You're a mess." He broke the news bluntly. "Your clothes are filthy, you smell, and your face is just weeping exhaustion."

Aiwa didn't care for his insults. "And?" she shot back.

Xue seemed a little taken aback by this. His tactic to beat her down was unnecessary, for Aiwa was already a mess, and they both knew it.

"I hear you've had quite an experience," he stated calmly, his tone shifting a little towards cordial. "A trip to the Spirit World."

"I learned some things," Aiwa offered vaguely, beginning to sag under the combined weight of her physical and mental exhaustion. Xue pondered this, before responding.

"Aiwa," he spoke calmly, "we need to know you've learned. You can't escape ICE."

"I know."

"And you're aware of this?"

"Yes."

"And still you returned?"

Aiwa nodded, and Xue smiled. It was a genuine smile, a rare feature upon the tough man's face.

"Good. This will look favourably upon your trial."

"It's not a trial," Aiwa spat, unable to help herself, "it's a mockery of justice."

Xue raised his eyebrows.

"Under normal circumstance, I'd be inclined to launch into a discussion of what 'justice' is. You'd benefit from it greatly, but..." He raised a hand and seemed to wave to something or someone behind Aiwa. "Now is not the time."

Aiwa heard heavy footfalls in the grass behind her, but did not move.

She had given up.

"Bring her," he called out, "but gently, if you can."

Aiwa closed her eyes. Then, darkness took her.

Aiwa sat alone in the cell, her head aching. The strike that had rendered her unconscious had been so precise that very little force had been required, and it had long since ceased to bother her. No, this pain was like the return of an old bully who had clawed his way back into her life, grinning with malicious intention. The throbbing grew in intensity at times, but it was always inherently the same: her old ache, the blocked bending, the agony after her operation, somehow recalled from the past.

The cold stone and simple bars of her cell were just like that – ancient and simple, and a strong prison against the non-bender. But the entire mountain was bathed in the power of an anti-bending field. The generator was surely deep within the mountain's core, sustained by a smaller version of the T2 reactor that lay beneath the Sanctuary Gardens. Combined, the bars and the blocked bending destroyed all hope of escaping.

And even if she could escape, what then? What would be the point? Where would she go? Why should she flee? For the first time in her life, Aiwa was without a goal, without a purpose. Her whole being, the sum total of her existence was under the dominion of others. And so Aiwa could only wait, drained of all desire and filled finally with a feeling she had dreaded yet managed to escape from her whole life, until now.

She was lonely.

By and by, Xue came along. He stopped outside the bars of Aiwa's cell, staring in impassively. Natural light trickled in from the shafts cut into the mountainside. There was no circuitry up here, just the holding cells and the ICE chambers. Aiwa knew where she had been taken, in spite of the darkness between the Sanctuary Gardens and her awakening here. She refused to meet Xue's gaze.

After a minute, Xue disappeared momentarily before returning with a wooden stool. Seating himself upon it, he leaned against the bars of the cell and stared blankly at Aiwa. She returned his gaze at length.

The wedge of anger that had driven itself between them in Ba Sing Se was nowhere to be found, and now there was a kind of calm that felt devoid of everything. There was nothing left.

Aiwa managed to summon up a faint smile, before deciding to speak.

"I don't suppose you could tell me where my friends are?" she asked quietly.

"They were taken for questioning when word reached us that you'd fled to the Spirit World, but they've been released, now. They didn't know anything about your deeper intentions, assuming you have such."

"That's good," Aiwa responded quietly. "Good."

"So, what shall we talk about?" Xue asked quietly. "We're processing a lot of people right now – and not just the captured rebels from Ba Sing Se. The facilities weren't designed to handle so much ICE all at once. I take it you've heard of our internal troubles? The compromised Ancient and the Shinju detector?"

"I have," Aiwa replied simply. There was nothing more to be said on the topic.

"In any case, we have some time. I've been instructed to begin your interrogation as soon as possible, but I'm not going to interrogate you. Do you know why?"

Aiwa was a little confused by this unexpected turn of events.

"No, why?"

Xue cleared his throat.

"Now, you can be as sceptical about this as you like, but…well, to put it bluntly, I still think there's hope for us. Your flaws aren't fatal – they aren't even dangerous. You're doing, frankly, what we should have expected you to do under the circumstances. I'm starting to suspect that it's us Seniors who are going about things the wrong way. We're trying to bring back the Avatar in body, spirit, and reputation, but we…well, what's your judgement on our progress? After all, you're the subject of this experiment, whether you like it or not."

Aiwa was silent, thinking. This was a side of Xue rarely seen by anyone – mellow and apologetic, if not explicitly.

"How honest can I be?" she asked after a minute's thought. Xue smiled, chuckled very slightly.

"Considering your situation, I'd recommend mustering all the honesty you can. But there's no surveillance here. Anything you say stays between us. This isn't for your ICE, and we've got the Shinju, now. You've heard of it, yes?" Aiwa nodded. "But no, I'd like you to talk freely, if you can. Say whatever you want, ask questions – just don't expect answers – but please, let me help you. We're on the same side here –"

"Are we?" Aiwa cut in. Xue took a deep breath.

"Why don't you tell me?"

As sick as she was of hearing that phrase uttered, Aiwa replied.

"I just feel…directionless," she spoke after an uncertain pause, "and alone. It's like the energy of my whole life is going into this…process, this search for the truth – whatever that even means! Life is gaining complexity, gaining mystery at a rate I can't keep up with anymore, and it's overwhelming. I have no one to turn to, no one to help me, no one to confide in." She thought of Zaheer vanishing from the Spirit World. "Not now."

"What do you mean, 'not now' –?"

"Hold it," snapped Aiwa, "it's my turn! I struggle and I battle with myself and with others and I just… See, even these words are insufficient. I can't do anything right! I can't…"

At the peak of her tirade, Aiwa found herself weeping.

"What's it all for?" she cried, the grief pouring out of some unknown source, finally tapped. "I'm fighting, but against who? And what for? And why? Why is it all such a struggle?"

Aiwa leaned back against the cold stone wall of her cell and wiped her face on her sleeve, feeling the cold sting of painful tears. Even though her eyes were closed, she could imagine the look on Xue's face.

His words, however, dispelled her image entirely.

"It's tough," he said quietly. "I'll let you in on a little secret: every Senior has had at least one major crisis of thought in their time. I myself still have moments like yours where my own mind becomes my worst enemy. It's the most amazing, absurd curse, that the kind of mind required to do what we do tortures itself. It can be difficult to –"

"Shut up," choked Aiwa, opened her eyes. She caught Xue's gaze, and suddenly the two of them began to laugh. They simply chuckled together, the absurdity of the situation flowing freely.

"I have a hypothesis," Xue spoke after a few minutes of gentle laughter, "and hear me out, because I think it will help both of us. So what causes a clash like this? Like ours? What could possibly cause it?"

"Well, I could start being accusatory again, but I don't think it'd be…" Aiwa couldn't finish her sentence, and burst out laughing again. Xue, however, was a little more serious now.

"It wouldn't serve a purpose, I know," he said, still smiling. "Now, I'd tentatively say that, in the grand scheme of things, we both have the same goals, right? We both want the same things. What would they be?"

"Survival of the species as a minimum," Aiwa answered immediately, "and Preservation of the knowledge required to bring mankind out of the darkness."

"Your wording is interesting. These may be dark times, but I wouldn't exactly call a lot of what mankind has done 'light', in a good sense. But the essence is there, I think. This is what we both desire. So if we want the same things, why all this?" He gestured to the cold steel bars of her cell. "Why this…disagreement?"

Aiwa burst out laughing again.

"That's putting it mildly!"

"Of course it is. Would you prefer 'contention'? Or maybe 'dispute'? What about 'rumbling'? But again, why this disagreement? I'll tell you why: bad communication."

"I'm not so sure that's the only reason."

"Every single clash can be boiled down to some combination of differing values or information. Do you agree?"

"That depends on very, very liberal interpretations of those words. But yeah, I think I can agree. If I say our methods are different, then you'll just reply by saying that one or both of us are ignorant of the ideal method. I can see where you're going from here, so skip to the end." Aiwa was growing weary.

"We're miscommunicating. Somehow, we – the Seniors – are failing in our duty to you, the Avatar. We should be helping you reach your greatest potential, not locking you away in a cell awaiting ICE! And yet here we find ourselves."

Aiwa was a little irritated, for Xue had succeeded in making her feel guilty while attacking the actions of himself and of his peers.

"I don't think the fault is yours alone," she said, averting her gaze. "I could communicate better, too."

"Indeed," Xue said, almost dismissively, "but I think the far greater responsibility is ours – those with greater power, knowledge, and influence, those in charge, those running the show. Are you getting my drift?"

Aiwa nodded.

"Now, having said all that, I'm going to backtrack. Is there anything you'd like to tell me? You've let out a lot of tension and emotion, but I can tell you're still seething, even if you can't see it yourself. So, Avatar Aiwa, I invite you to speak freely. Talk to me."

"And that..." Aiwa sighed, after a monologue that spanned an epoch. "...Is why I feel compelled to seek the truth. In order to better serve this world, in order to fulfil my duties as the Avatar, I have to know. More than that, I have to experience everything properly to understand it all. And how can I do that with the truth hidden from me?"

She finished on a sad note, having delivered the sum total of her knowledge to Xue. Everything, from her meetings with Zaheer, to her knowledge of Junto, to her suspicions about the Red Lotus and the Bright Lance was now out in the open. Yet the feeling was one of tremendous freedom. There was nothing for her now but to accept the future with open arms and welcome it as a fresh opportunity, whether it be balance, death, or anything in between.

"Aiwa," spoke Xue after a little thought, "first of all, thank you for being so open. I don't know whether you're still withholding anything, but I suspect, given the passionate quality of the tale you just told, that it was everything."

"It really was." Aiwa was almost pleading. "Now, can you tell me things?"

She knew the answer to her question even as she asked it. They had not lied, and surely had good reasons for withholding some of the facts – if they were at all.

Xue shook his head.

"I'm afraid I can't," he spoke sadly. "And perhaps it's a failing on our part, but I'm reluctant in the extreme to reveal certain information. But let me confirm a few things for you: firstly, everything Zaheer told you is, to my knowledge, true; secondly, what you suspect about Junto's relationship with the past Avatars is also true, and I commend you for reasoning your way to that conclusion; thirdly, the problem you've detected with the history of the Bright Lance is just that – a problem. But I cannot resolve it for you. Not yet."

Aiwa felt downtrodden. She had placed the last of her hopes and dreams into this confession, and what had she received?

"A lot more than you think, actually. Be grateful for what he has confirmed for you."

"Really? It's not enough!"

"But will it not have to suffice, at least for now?"

"When?" Aiwa blurted out, giving voice to her inner concerns. "When will you tell me?"

"Tell you what, exactly?" replied Xue, smiling faintly, and Aiwa understood the deeper meaning before he even tried to explain it. "The day will come when..." He paused, uncertain of his own words. "But I think you understand," he finished soberly.

In spite of herself, Aiwa nodded in mellow acquiescence

A day later, Aiwa sat alone on the side of her bed, reflecting on all that had transpired.

The twin voices were back.

"Can I really trust them? Can I?"

"Once again, there is no 'us' and 'them'! Discard this mentality and take your rightful place as a force for good. What about Xue's point? You both want the same thing in the end, and can you really doubt that the Preservation has the best means of reaching that goal? The best knowledge? The best path?"

"Yeah, I can doubt it. How can obscurity be the best path?"

"There has to be a good reason for it. When the Winter subsides, when humans can repopulate without fear of reprisal from an avenging planet, they'll need their Avatar. That's what the Preservation wants you for. They understand that need."

Aiwa buried her head in her hands.

"And what if this pattern just repeats? If I can pass one ICE, can I pass them all? What if I go out seeking once more, only to cross another line and find that they're not as forgiving a second time?"

"Just trust. Trust in them. Trust that you don't understand right now, but that someday you will. Remember what he said...

Xue's face loomed in her mind's eye. He spoke.

"Events are now in motion that cannot be stopped. As your friend Zaheer would say, 'Once change has begun, it cannot be stopped.' We're changing the world, Aiwa, slowly but surely. I can't say exactly when, but I can tell you that, soon, you'll understand."

The knock at the door startled Aiwa, wrenching her out of her own wretched thoughts and into the world of conscious reality. It was getting late, and evening visits were uncommon. Still, as Aiwa smiled at her friends barging through the door uninvited to see her, San and Pema were hardly common folk.

Pema charged forwards and wrapped Aiwa up in a tight hug. San came in from the side and joined them, and Aiwa closed her eyes and rested in the grip of her friends.

Nothing needed to be said.

Eventually, however, Pema spoke anyway.

"Gosh, you foolish girl!" she breathed, and she and Aiwa shared a laugh.

"Lay off her!" San grunted, throwing a mock punch at Pema's shoulder. "She's had a hard time."

"I really need to sleep," Aiwa spoke placidly, aware of how exhausted she was. ICE was not painful – not unless it needed to be, and such cases were rare – but the process was hardly comfortable. 'Gruelling' was a good word for it. Intentions and Competency Examination – ICE – a total invasion of every mental privacy imaginable.

"Not before I apologise to you!" Pema stood up and looked down at her friend, her face filled with tension. "Aiwa, I'm sorry I caused that grief with Johto. I've thought it through, and I've decided not to act on what I know. You're right: it wouldn't serve a positive purpose to break their relationship over an inconsequential act. But tell me one thing..." She faltered for a moment. San gave Aiwa a perplexed look, clueless.

"Was it nice?" Pema asked slyly, biting her lip.

Aiwa burst out laughing. Pema joined in, and San turned away, a rough hand covering his eyes. He'd figured out what was going on.

"It really was," replied Aiwa, wiping away tears of mirth, "but, Pema dear, I know better now, too. I'm going to find nice, unattached boys from now on – people I can't hurt just by trying to get something that simple from them."

Aiwa thought she saw a shadow pass over Pema's face, and imagined her friend's unspoken reaction: You really think sex is a simple matter? However, Pema's smile did not falter, and she held her peace.

"That's really good, Aiwa. Good and proper and...moral of you."

"Can we just tell her what we're here to tell her?" grunted San, turning back to face the giggling women. "Aiwa's not the only one who's tired, OK?"

"Fine, Mr. Grumpy! Well, Aiwa, San and I were up late at the Sanctuary Gardens getting final clearance to return to regular duties after the questioning. A messenger arrived from the APD – that's The Atmospheric Physics Department," Pema clarified, and Aiwa nodded in recognition.

"What did it say?"

"They've found a solution," San replied earnestly.

"To what?"

"The Winter."