So, funny thing, I totally forgot Toph was blind for a bit in this chapter. I pretty much pulled a Sokka. Congrats to BeakerPD for catching that for me. But I fixed it! Woo!

21. "YOU KNOW," TOPH SAYS, "I MET HIM ONCE."

We're in a small clearing, just far enough away from the road so that the light of our fire can't be seen. It's been about two days since we stopped at the farm. In all that time, we haven't said much, just rode in silence, heavy and thick. That night, the world is soft and cool. It's been raining all day, only stopping about an hour before we finally decide to stop for the night. It feels good, the rain. For weeks now, my world has been defined by dust and heat and sweat and humidity. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to taste something other than dirt in my mouth. Now, though, the world feels fresh and clean, newly washed, sparkling in the dying sunlight. All around us, the trees bend and sway and whisper to each other. A bird flutters from branch-to-branch. The ostrich-horses snort and paw at the ground.

It's downright peaceful…

When Toph speaks, she's sitting on a rock, munching on a piece of jerky. My uncle and I are doing our best to make our makeshift campsite somewhat tolerable to sleep in. He's stomping around, heating his feet in such a way as to dry the ground out a bit, while I'm doing the same thing with my hands, making slow, steady passes over our clothes and sleeping rolls. I'm so intent on my task that for a moment, I don't even notice that Toph has said something. It takes a bit for the words to penetrate my skull and work their way into my mind. When they do, I pull my hand away and look to her.

"What was that?"

She sighs, tearing off a fresh bite of jerky. "I said, I met him once."

I nod, not really following. "Ah…I see…who?"

She rolls her eyes. "The fucking Emperor, of course. Who else would I be talking about?"

I shrug, return to my task. "Knowing you? Literally anyone."

She laughs. "Alright, point. Still, yeah, I met the guy once."

I let heat bleed off my hand, before patting the sleeping roll. I nod to myself, satisfied. It's not perfect – there's still a faint hint of damp to the cloth – but it's better than what it was before. "Right on. When was this?"

She looks up at the sky, or at least what we can see of it through the trees. The night is gathering with great speed, rolling in and bleeding out from the horizon. Scattered stars twinkle from between thin shreds of clouds, and all around, insects buzz and chirp and rattle.

"Oh," she replies, speaking around a half-chewed hunk of jerky, "about…five years ago or so, when I was…what…eleven?" She nods to herself. "Yeah, eleven."

I begin laying out the sleeping rolls in a sort of triangle, each roll forming a side, careful to roll them out on ground my uncle has dried. "You know, I'm trying to imagine you as a little kid, but it's downright impossible."

Toph scoffs. "I know, right? Even I have difficulty picturing it."

I shake my head, and begin drying out the blankets. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my uncle riffling through his pack, pulling out his little mobile tea kit. "I just have this mental picture of you in diapers, telling your nanny to go suck a dick." I allow myself a little chuckle. "But, as you were saying…"

"Ah, right. So yeah, when I was eleven, my parents got it into their heads that, given their incredible wealth and power, the only place to find a truly suitable match for me would be in Ba Sing Se. Though, really, if you ask me," she continues, smiling softly to herself, "it had as much to do with the fact that it was my parents' twentieth wedding anniversary as it did with anything else."

"Your parents genuinely liked each other?" my uncle says, settling down by the fire and beginning the (for him) complex process of brewing tea.

Toph laughs. "Oh yeah, a lot." She tilts her head to the side, a wistful look on her face. "It was kind of annoying at times, to tell you the truth. All the other kids got to play their parents off against each other, but not me. Oh no, I had to deal with a united front every damn day."

I take in her expression, which is of a kind that I've never even imagined could possibly exist on her face. "You liked your parents, didn't you?"

She shakes her head. "Yes and no. I loved them, don't get me wrong, but…liked?" She sighs. "That's more complicated. We just didn't...we just never got each other. They really wanted me to be one way, and I just…wasn't." She sighs again, a little more heavily this time. "Like I've said, they aren't evil, just…well…they just weren't the right parents for me."

My uncle laughs. "I don't think anyone would be the right parents for you, my dear."

Toph scoffs. "I dunno, you two seem to be doing a pretty good job."

"I thought I was more you big, goofy brother?" I observe.

She laughs. "That, too. Anyways, but yeah, while we were there, we went to the Palace. My mom had always wanted to see it, so my dad called in a few favors and got us an audience with the Emperor and an invitation to some big shindig. Thus, one day, I got stuffed into some gods-awful dress and found myself waddling into the throne room. We had to enter on our knees, even my dad, which was a little strange to see. We inched our way in, eyes averted to the ground, of course, while we were announced and all that. Then someone blew a trumpet, and we pressed our heads to the floor, and we chanted this ridiculous ritual greeting or some-such and waited until the Emperor's whatever commanded us to rise. We still had to stay on our knees, of course, but the point is, I got to look up and, there before me, was the fucking Emperor of the Earth Kingdom."

I lay down the last blanket and settle myself on top of my sleeping roll. I reach into my pocket, pull out my cigarettes, and light one up, positioning myself to I can both watch my uncle prepare the tea and watch Toph on her rock. "So," I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me, "what was he like?"

Toph shrugs. "I'm really not sure. I mean, for one thing, I couldn't actually see him, but, when my mother gave me the play-by-play later, I remember being, well…disappointed. He didn't look at all like what I had imagined the Emperor to look like. He was really young, that threw me off, I could tell that right away, like, twenty or so, and thin as a rail, with these thick, round glasses perched on the end of his nose. He looked like a kid playing dress-up with his dad's clothes, as my mom put it, and his throne seemed like it was about to swallow him whole. He just didn't…he didn't fit, if that makes sense, not from what my mom said later, or from what I could sense right there, and, thing is, what I knew, right there, is that he just didn't seem to have the...I dunno...heartbeat of an Emperor." She sighs, swallowing the last bite of her jerky. "I just got this weird impression that he'd look better huddled behind some books in a library than ruling a nation, at least from what my mother told me."

My uncle nods, moving back from the fire to let the tea steep and pulling out his pipe. "That was my impression, as well."

Toph pops an eyebrow. "You met him, too?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes, when I was besieging Ba Sing Se."

Toph's eyes go wide. "Oh, you're that Iroh."

My uncle frowns. "Yes, I am, or at least, I was." He gives her an apologetic look. "Please don't hold that against me."

Toph waves the idea away. "Hey, nobody's perfect. But yeah, you were saying?"

My uncle shrugs, taking a contemplative puff on his pipe. "Well, I didn't get as good a look as you did, my dear. I only saw him from far away, through my field glasses, and he was very young then, barely eight or nine, but from what I saw, he looked like a bookish sort, a very kind soul, not really Emperor material."

I turn my gaze to the fire, watching it crackle and pop, the tongues of flame licking at the bottom of the tea kettle. "And now he's gone."

My uncle nods, a sad look on his face. "Yes, now he's gone."

"May the gods have mercy on his soul," Toph says.

We sit in a brooding-sort of silence for a time after that, my uncle and I watching the tea kettle and Toph looking off into whatever it is that she sees. Finally, the kettle begins to whistle, and I snatch it off the flames and carefully pour out three cups before settling the kettle back on the fire. Toph hops down off her rock and joins us at the fire, sprawling out atop her sleeping roll and taking the cup that I offer her. We all take a few sips, watching the flames dance in the gathering darkness.

I don't know what was going on in the others' minds, but I know what was going on in mine, or at least, I think I do. The easiest way to describe it would be to say that I was deeply confused. All my life, up until I was eighteen-years-old, I was raised to believe in the supremacy of the Fire Nation, in the strength and the will of my people, and how that very strength and that very will were what made us the rightful rulers of the world. This pride, this idea of honor, of might making right, had been my bread and my butter from birth. As my father's only son, I had been raised with one goal in mind, and only one, that being that, someday, I would take my place as leader of the world, or at least of the Fire Nation, which was the same thing. I had been surrounded constantly be the reminders of our strength, our courage, our perfection. No nation was as great as the Fire Nation, and, for most of my life, I believed this with all my heart.

And yet…

And yet…

Here, heading into my fifth year in exile, victory seemed to finally be at hand. Most of the world had either come to terms with my father, the Fire Lord, or was ruled directly by him, or was in the process of becoming either one of the two. Everywhere I cared to look, my people's armies marched beneath crimson banners and carried all before them. Even the mighty Earth Kingdom, for so long seemingly unbeatable, unconquerable, was finally breaking before our might. I should be happy, I know that. I should've been filled with glee and pride and a warm sense of accomplishment. I should be basking in the glory of my nation's triumph, and my eyes should be shining with proud tears.

But that's not how I felt…

No, I felt…I felt…

I felt empty and cold…

"What is this happening?"

It's not until I notice that the others have turned to face me that I realize that I've just spoken out loud. I struggle against the urge to redden under their attention, taking a calming sip of tea before clearing my throat and saying, once more, in what I hope is a stronger voice, "I just…I mean…what is this happening? Why now, of all times?"

"That's a good fucking question," Toph says, swirling tea around in her cup.

My uncle sighs. "It's a good question, yes, but I'm afraid it's a question with an easy answer."

"Really?" I say, unable to keep a note of incredulity out of my voice. Out of nowhere, a strange urge to lash out at the world snarls to life deep in my chest. I feel angry, confused, lonely, heartbroken, like a piece of word drifting in the sea. I bite down on the sensation, but that only seems to make it grow stronger. "Forgive me if I don't see it that way."

Toph nods, her glassy eyes dancing with the fire. "I'm with Zuko on this one. It seems a pretty complicated issue."

My uncle sighs, shaking his head. "Ah, the folly of youth, always trying to make simple things complicated."

I lean forward, stabbing my cigarette into the air. "But, that's the thing, it is complicated. There are a thousand and one reasons why the war is going the way it is right now."

"Ah," my uncle says, raising his finger in the air, "but there's only one reason why it's going the exact way it is right now."

"And what," Toph says, a tone of annoyance creeping into her voice, "is that, pray tell."

My uncle takes a depth breath, and then says two words, and only two, but they're enough.

"The Avatar."

The words echo in the night like rocks dropped in an empty pail. I set my cup down, pull my knees to my chest, and wrap my arms around my chin. My uncle puffs on his pipe. Toph just kind of stares. The silence is deafening. The fire pops and cracks in the quiet. Nobody moves for what feels like a long time. Nobody moves, nobody breathes. The world is falling to pieces around us, but here, in this little circle, there is calm, and there is silence.

And, suddenly, there is despair…

I find myself thinking of Katara. I miss her desperately, just then. Somehow, I can't help but feel that she would be able to bring clarity to the gloom.

Finally, Toph speaks. "The fuck does that even mean?"

My uncle sighs. "It means, my dear, that without the Avatar, there is no hope." He takes a long puff on his pipe, letting the smoke billow softly into the night, mixing with the faint wisps of smoke from the fire. "You see, the Avatar has always meant more than just that there's someone in the world who can bend all four elements. The Avatar is the living, breathing embodiment of the spirit of the Earth itself, and thus, they are the living, breathing embodiment of that idea that there will be a world, a future, that life will go on. The Avatar represents that there is a way past all our conflict, that the four elements, and, by extension, the four peoples, can somehow, someway, someday, find a way to live in peace and harmony. That we can come together, and not only that we can come together, but we should." He pauses, lets out a long, shaky breath, before continuing, his voice soft and fragile. "But without the Avatar, all of that goes away. Without the Avatar, there is, quite simply, no promise of a future worth fighting for."

He looks up, looks into our eyes.

"And that is why the world is coming to pieces around us. Without the Avatar to unite us, to give us hope, to give a promise of a future worth living in, then it is inevitable that the person with the strongest vision of the future will conquer all the others."

Toph nods, slow and steady. "But, what if that person happens to be an asshole?" She turns to me. "No offense, Sparky."

I shrug. "None taken. But, it's a valid argument. What if the person with the strongest vision of the future is an asshole?"

My uncle sighs. "Then, my young friends, I'm afraid that we're all a bit fucked."

In the past almost five years, I have seen a lot of things. I have watched as I went from an angry little boy, raging at the world, and grew into something like a young man, no longer afraid of his own reflection. I have watched my uncle, the Dragon of the West, turned his back on the nation that he spent a lifetime defending and fighting for and turned into a chuckling, cheerful old man, concerned only for his too-serious nephew. I have seen the polar lights on a cold winter night, and watched icebergs larger than any ship afloat slice silently through seas as calm and still as glass. I have both seen men die and made them die. I have seen a pirate no older than I was shudder out his last breaths around the sword I had just impaled him with. I have seen a blind sixteen-year-old girl bend the earth as if she was a part of it. I have seen my sister, standing in my doorway, telling me that I'm going to die.

I have seen the most beautiful woman I've ever known, tell me that she likes me, even though she has no reason to do so…

But all of that pales in comparison to the fact that my uncle just said fuck.

We ride harder than ever come morning. Even Toph offers no complaints.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was much better. This chapter definitely kicks the shit out of the last one.

By the way, something I forgot to say in the last author's note: I mention a language called Guānhuà in that chapter. Basically, that is what Mandarin Chinese is called in…well…Mandarin Chinese. The Earth Kingdom is basically a lot like China, especially Imperial China, in that the word Chinese actually refers to a group of somewhat related languages, many of which are not mutually intelligible, but which are lumped together because a bunch of people in a country we call China speak them, and because we Westerners can't be bothered to learn the difference.

Oh, and also because the current Chinese government is big on pretending that all of China is one big happy family, so of course they all speak the same language, even though a Mandarin speaker from Beijing can understand a Mandarin speaker from, say, Yunnan about as well as I can understand someone from Bavaria. But that's neither here nor there.

In my last story, A Different Path, I made very clear that there was no way the Fire Nation was going to win. In that way, I defined victory as world conquest. However, if victory is defined as world domination, then the Fire Nation can totally win, and, indeed, seemed on the verge of doing so, until the Avatar came back on the scene. As Iroh observes, the Avatar represents the future. No Avatar, no future, no force for all the various opponents to the Fire Nation to unite around. This an important idea. Please don't forget it.

In the next chapter, our little group finally makes contact with the Water Tribe army, and Zuko has a very nerve-wracking meeting with his girlfriend's dad. Stay tuned!

PS – I totally proposed to my girlfriend last weekend, and because, for some bizarre reason, she likes me as much as I like her, she totally said yes. So, there's that. *squeals*