A/N: First and foremost, HAPPY HOLIDAYS, EVERYONE!

Oh, and the results are IN!

Okay, as you know, I've been waiting for my two-hundreth review to start my Omake fic. After the reviews have all gone in, the prize goes to Alluring Alliteration. Her idea is currently in the works (and believe me, it's going to be a good one...) and should be up hopefully before New Years. Hopefully. I want to get this chapter posted first.

Speaking of deadlines, let me just warn you guys now that I won't be doing any writing on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, or the day after. Por que? Well, the library is going to be closed over the holidays (so no internet) and I'll probably get stuck with work on Sunday (which means, you guessed it, no time para la biblioteca). I'm as depressed about it as you are. THREE WHOLE DAYS WITHOUT WRITING? And I have to spend TWO of those days with my FAMILY?

I'm going to die.

Anyway, you all really seemed to enjoy the Agni Kai in the last chapter, so I'm more than happy to tell you that the action is only just beginning. Aang's still in a vicious mood, and Zhao is about to claim the victor's spot in the duel. But what is lurking in the shadows?

Well? I'm not going to tell you. Read if you really want to know! And enjoy!


Chapter Twenty Five: The Song of Retribution

The Avatar State was terrifying, if only because of its intensity. And since it was Katara and Sokka's first time in witnessing it, the effect was no less than overwhelming.

The siblings could only gape as their goofy little friend suddenly threw up his head and became a literal eye of the hurricane. Tumultuous winds pushed them backwards, sending sharp pebbles and rocks flying at them. Sokka grabbed his sister by the waist and threw them both to the ground, sheilding his face with his other arm.

"Aang!" Katara yelled.

"He can't hear you!" Sokka raised his voice just to be heard over the dinn of the wind. "We have to get out of here! This tunnel could collapse any second!"

The mountain itself seemed to tremble in Aang's wake. The ceiling started dribbling fragments onto their heads, emphasizing Sokka's warning. A cave-in seemed imminent.

"We can't just leave him!" Katara insisted, trying to squirm out of her brother's grip. "It's his Avatar spirit! Finding out the truth must have triggered it! I'm going to try to calm him down!"

"Katara, no!"

But she didn't listen. Elbowing him to the side, the Waterbender forced herself to her feet and sheilded her face with her hands as she tried to reach the grieving Avatar. The winds were powerful and caused her to stumble a number of times. But Katara gritted her teeth and kept going. She knew deep down that this was her own fault for trying to hide this from him; for giving him false hope. The truth was devastating.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and called to him.

"Aang! I know you're upset!"

Aang seemed oblivious, suspended in his own shell of wailing chi. Katara wondered if he could even hear her anymore. But she had to try.

"I...I know how hard it is to lose someone you love," she continued, blue eyes fixed on his face. "It hurts more than you can ever imagine. You feel so alone and confused...and angry. I know because I went through the same thing when I lost my mom!"

Was it her imagination, or did the wind feel slightly softer against her face?

"Aang...I knew how much it would hurt. This entire time I was afraid that you would find out what I already knew, deep down inside. That the Firebenders came and attacked the temple. I didn't want you to feel what I had felt; to feel what I still feel, even now."

Katara's face showed just how torn she felt. Could Aang see the sadness and loss in her eyes?

"You told me how scared you were when you found out you were the Avatar. You said you felt alone. That's why you wanted to come here so badly. You wanted to make sense out of everything; to find someone who could give you the answers you needed. But you only ended up finding a tragedy...

...but Aang, you're not alone!" She screamed this last part as loud as she could, praying that her words would reach him. "Monk Gyatso and the other Airbenders may be gone, but...you still have a family! Sokka and I, we're your family now!"

Aang's face turned towards Katara. With a sigh, the air became still.

The Avatar slumped to the floor, exhausted. His arrows were still glowing blue, but he didn't look like he had the strength to push his grief any further. Katara ran forward to catch him, Sokka hot on her heels.

It was just then, that a second explosion took place.

Without warning, cause, or explanation (known to the Gaang at least) the wall at the end of the tunnel suddenly cracked. Green light started flooding through, bathing the trio in an ominous glow. Then, as assaulted by the world's most volatile explosive, the wall shattered violently, sending jagged shards flying everywhere.

Sokka pressed Katara and Aang into the dirt, sheilding them. In retribution, some of the rocks sliced through the arms of his parka. Fortunately, the skins were thick, and protected him from most of the damage.

The Water Tribe warrior looked down when he heard Aang gasp. There was a flash of green, and a single jet of light was propelled out of his body and into the pulsing abyss at the end of the tunnel. Then, the mountain itself started to shake.

"Cave-in!" he yelled. "We need to move!"

Katara helped carry Aang, and together, they ran back the way they came. Rocks started falling, threatening to crush them instantly. More than once they took another step, only to find a piece of the earth embedded in the ground where they had been mere seconds ago. Sokka felt himself running out of breath and felt a stab of hopelessness.

"We're not going to make it," Katara gasped.

Sokka couldn't swallow. He knew she was right.

"Hold on to me," Aang muttered quietly. "Tight."

"Aang?" Katara looked down at the boy in her arms. "You're all right!"

"Just grab a hold of me, quick! We don't have much time."

Sokka, who had since learned to act first and ask questions later (especially during a cave-in), twined his sister's arms around Aang's torso. He followed suit. Having done this, the Water Tribe warrior felt that he had earned the indulgence of a question.

"What are you going to..."

With a single, yet massive puff of air, Aang proceeded to gust him and his friends the rest of the way. Sokka's question died prematurely, trailing off in a startled scream. They barely avoided the crumbling ceiling, and Aang barely had the foresight to turn off at the fork in the road. He darted down the tunnel Katara had found; the one that supposedly led to the surface.

"We're almost there!"

Katara tightened her grip on her brother, who seemed about to faint. Her face fell. "The hole is really high up. Can you reach it?"

Aang didn't answer. But his face said, I hope so.


I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but Zhao has these really big hands. They easily caught my wrists and held them tight enough that I thought they would break. Before I had time to say, "Shit," I found myself twisted around, my knees on the ground. With one hand, he kept a firm grip on my wrists.

With the other, he lit up a flame.

At this point, the spectators were still gagging on the pepper spray. The guards had gotten the worst of it, but Zuko, Iroh, and Lieutenant Jee all had red watering eyes to show from the unpleasant experience. However, they had recovered enough to realize that I had lost my Agni Kai, and was about to face the consequences.

"Oh, no," Lieutenant Jee exclaimed quietly.

At the sight of the fire in his fist, I immediately started to struggle. I tried to push myself on to my feet, but then I felt Zhao's foot on my back, pinning me. I gasped, knowing from experience that it would leave a deep muscle bruise.

"Let go of me!" I squeaked.

Zhao's smile was cruel. "You know the terms of an Agni Kai," he said. "Your life is in my hands now."

Crap! Crap, crap, crap, crap, CRAP!

"Zhao, stop!" Iroh yelled. "There is no need to do this! The victory is yours!"

"There is a precedent that must be upheld, General Iroh. Do I look like the kind of coward who is too weak to deliver the final blow?"

Turning to me, I could see the ruthless enthusiasm in his eyes. I'm guessing he was still kind of miffed at my calling him a 'prison-bitch' in the last chapter. Still, it is my sincerest opinion that Zhao was being an immature shithead. Imagine him holding a grudge like that. I mean, we all say things we don't mean in the glow of battle, right? No reason for him to burn my face off.

RIGHT?

Oh, who the hell was I kidding. I was so fucked.

"On the other hand," said Zhao suddenly, letting the flame go out in a puff, "I'm also capable of appreciating the art of compromise. Are you familiar with it, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko's expression was murderous. His eyes, which were still red and watering from the pepper spray, looked absolutely hateful in the face of the Commander.

"You don't compromise!" he spat. "You coerce and blackmail those weaker than you! You're the worst kind of coward!"

Zhao was unfazed. Tightening his grip on me, he met Zuko's gaze in cold indifference.

"Oh, really? Would a coward do...this?"

His hand became shrouded in a heavy flame. I yelped as he brought his burning fist dangerously close to my face. I flinched at the intensity of the heat, feeling my skin bead with sweat. It was so hot that it was unbearable.

With every second that passed, his fist inched closer and closer to my cheek. When it got so close that it was a hair's breath from making contact I started freaking out. I struggled and kicked at him like a wild animal caught in a hunter's net. Now picture that trapped animal during a brush fire, and you could imagine what it felt like being in Zhao's grasp.

"Stop it!" Zuko yelled.

He was struggling to get to his feet, but had to lean on his uncle's shoulder for support. He was still somewhat incapacitated thanks to my poorly-timed attack. Still, it was clear that he was planning on fighting Zhao himself, if only he could get himself into the ring.

But then, all at once, Zhao extinguished his flame, allowing his hand to brush against my face.

His touch was gentle; a mocking caress. I knew he could feel me quivering as he smirked at my fear-stricken expression. His hand was still very warm from his recent display of Firebending; the feel of it was unnervingly intimate and I wanted more than anything to pull away and stomp on his face. The mental image of my foot going into his nasal cavity contrasted jarringly with the softness of his fingers.

Fear and hatred circled each other in a cataclysmic dance. But that one touch was all it took to shatter my bravado; to reveal me for the weak, cowering little girl that I was. I wanted to scream a number of insults at the Commander, but it was all I could do to keep myself from choking on my own tongue. Frightened noises escaped me as I wrestled against the snare of Zhao's grip.

"There, there," he sneered. "I'm not going to hurt you...that is, unless Prince Zuko gives me no choice."

"Don't touch her!" Zuko snarled.

He pushed himself away from Iroh, who was coughing uncontrollably into his sleeve. The old general was so distressed that he was having trouble warding off the aftershock of the spray. Zuko clearly was just as badly off as his uncle. He could only stagger a few steps before collapsing just a few inches outside the ring.

Zhao gave him an apprasing look. He smiled, basking in his position of superiority. "I'm a generous man. I've given you both plenty of opportunities to avoid this outcome." The smile vanished, and his expression became ruthless and cold. "But my patience is wearing thin."

Suddenly, his hand pulled back a few centimeters, and the fire was back. I flinched, so much so that I ended up wrenching against Zhao's unwavering grasp. Pain shot through my wrists at my involuntary jolt. But that was nothing compared to the pain I'd be feeling if I let that flame touch me.

"Do you think I won't do it?" Zhao asked Zuko, who was watching us in horror. "Do you think I'm too much of a coward to deliver a morsel of punishment to an insignificant little worm like her?"

The hand holding my wrists suddenly became white hot. Like a iron burning against my skin, Zhao's hand squeezed my wrists until they were red and blistered. Before I could stop myself, I threw back my head and screamed.

The sound of my voice seemed to have an effect on Zuko. I couldn't see very well as I squinted through my tears, but I could hear him yelling at Zhao, words that just blared in my ears and didn't make any sense. In the haze of my pain, I wondered about the point of this seemingly senseless exhibition. Why torture me in front of Zuko like this? What good would it do? He had already won!

"Please, stop!" Zuko yelled. "I'll do anything, just stop it! She doesn't deserve this!"

The burning stopped.

Zhao suddenly gave off a casual ambiance, holding me just enough to keep me from slipping free. I knelt in front of him, limp and exhausted from my suffering. I barely had the strength to keep myself from crying. I hated myself for screaming, for giving that bastard Zhao the satisfaction.

"See, now? Was that so hard?" he said. "Compromise isn't such a difficult concept to understand once you get the hang of it. Now, I have something you want..." Zhao jerked me around, like a cur on a leash, to emphasize his point. "...and you have something that I want."

Zuko gritted his teeth in surrender. "Name your terms," he hissed.

"I want to know whatever it is you ordered your crew to hide from me. I want to know the status of your...mission. After interrogating your crew, I've come under the suspicion that you may have found evidence that the Avatar is still alive." He let out a callous laugh. "For a moment, I had indeed contemplated the possibility that Julie here might be the Avatar...but she is clearly a weakling."

"Bastard...!" I snarled quietly. "Zuko doesn't know anything! The Avatar is gone!"

Zhao didn't hesitate as he kicked me into the dirt. As I laid there, kissing the dust, I could feel my tears streaking mud onto my cheeks. Then, Zhao's fingers wound themselves into my hair, jerking my head up so I could see Zuko's face. I let out a sharp cry of pain.

"So, Prince Zuko?"

If you're wondering what Zuko's reaction to this was, I'm sorry to say that I can't remember. My vision had went to black the moment Zhao had his hands in my hair. He was pulling it, trying to hurt and restrain me. The feeling was so painstakingly familiar that it triggered a memory I had tried my hardest to forget.

Suddenly, I was eight years old again. I was about to relearn what it was like to almost die.


Rain splattered against the walls of the bus shelter. It was a cold autumn afternoon, and I was shivering inside the thin windbreaker jacket covering my aching shoulders. The sky was getting darker and darker as I waited over forty-five minutes for the bus.

I knew I had probably missed it, but I stupidly wanted to wait it out; just in case another bus came. But as the minutes passed, it became more and more obvious that there was no other bus. I would have to either walk home, or wait for someone to steal my money and/or cut my throat.

My Dad would probably do the throat cutting himself, but I didn't want to die in the rain. So, biting my lip, I pulled up my hood and ran out of the bus shelter. With every step I took, I felt like a rabbit trying to get away from a hawk. I felt weak and helpless, and before five minutes had gone by I could feel tears and rain dripping through my windbreaker.

I hated myself so much. But that was nothing compared to the feeling I got when I saw Dad's car in the driveway.

It took an eternity to reach the front door. At this point, I was shaking, both out of fear and from the cold. With unsteady hands, I picked up the key from under the mat and unlocked the front door. I pushed it open as quietly as I could, wishing I could stop dripping water on the floor when I stepped over the threshold.

I pulled off my hood and took a moment to wring out my ponytail. My hair was long; I liked it that way. Jessie did too. She said that all the Disney princesses wore their hair long. But besides that, I had a feeling that my mother would have had long hair if she were still alive.

I shook the thought from my mind, moving towards the stairs. That was when I heard Dad calling me.

"Julie, come in here a minute," he said. His voice was deceptively calm. "Daddy's got a bone to pick with you."

I resisted the urge to bolt. I knew from experience that whatever punishment I had in store got ten times worse if I tried to run or hide. And there weren't any locks on my bedroom door after the time I shut myself inside. Dad went and busted the doorknob (he was really shit-faced that night), and then he busted me. I wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

"Hurry up, dammit! What, you afraid of your old man? Sniveling crybaby..." At the sound of his cold laugh, I felt chills running up my spine. His unsteady vocal patterns made me instinctively aware that he had already gone through a bottle of scotch. Probably scotch. It was his favorite next to whiskey.

Gritting my teeth to keep myself from shivering, I dragged myself into the living room. My feet felt like lead.

"I...I'm home."

I had to duck. The empty bottle shattered against the wall behind me. Quaking with terror, I looked up in time to see Dad lumber into view.

"You know what time it is?" he asked. The stale smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. I flinched away from him without thinking, trying to make a beeline for the stairs. Before I took two steps his meaty hand snatched my ponytail and jerked me back into the room. His fist belted me across the face, and I collapsed on to the floor.

I sniveled and sobbed at his feet. My Dad growled. "Freaking crybaby. I'll give you something to cry about...just like your damn mother."


Delun watched the unfolding scene with an impassive eye. The roof of the ship office had proved to be an excellent spot to watch the Agni Kai. Unfortunately, it was proving to be a...disappointing event. But his dark eyes kept their focus on me as I struggled to break free from Zhao.

Behind him, his two subordinates were shrinking back, trying their hardest not to be noticed. But their blatant discomfort tainted their aura. Delun found it irritating and distracting.

"You've done well to keep her from fleeing," he told them. "Stop cowering like fledglings begging to be stepped on."

The two cloaked men took several paces back, but wouldn't (or couldn't) erase their fear. Delun sighed. Mortals.

"This Julie is resourceful...and to a certain extent, resilient," he continued to himself. "But she lacks any combatative skills. I'm starting to think that I was wrong about her."

No one said anything. In the quiet, they could hear Zuko shouting, Iroh's pleas for Zhao to release me. Meanwhile, I was on the ground, my face blank and my eyes distant. It was like I had become deaf and blind to the happenings around me.

Delun scrutinized my expression. He had no trouble making out every detail of my face, even from that impossible distance over a hundred feet away. The longer he went without blinking, the sharper his vision became. Simultaneously, the bird-shaped scar on his hand was glowing. It made his grunts increasingly nervous.

"But I can sense a distortion in the girl's aura. I wonder..."


I was on the ground, trying to sheild my face and ribs. I found myself gasping at the raw bruises that were forming all over my back, my arms and legs. I felt broken and useless as I struggled to find the strength to crawl away.

My Dad didn't relent, and begging only made him ruthless and determined to inflict pain. Whatever his hands fall on is used to pummel any resistence out of my small, defenseless body. I can only close my eye and try not to choke on my own fear and vomit. I found myself thinking that it couldn't get worse than this, that anything would be better than being used as a punching bag by a stupid drunk.

I hated him. And I hated myself. It was the first time I felt anger instead of fear. I had spent all of my fear on the first blow, and this rage that was filling me had finally started to spill over.

"Bastard," I snapped. "Ugly, stupid, fat, drunk!"

Another stinging blow. Then another. I could hear a distinct ringing sound in my ears as I screamed at him.

"Let go of me or I'll kill you, you son of a fucking dipstick! Let go of my freaking hair!"

I was just a little girl; my voice was shrill and did little to inspire terror. The best it could do was give someone a headache. But I wasn't just screaming anymore. I was kicking and clawing and aiming everywhere I knew I could reach. I heard my Dad curse. His hand tightened into a rigid fist around my hair, sucking the air out of me.

"You little..." His one free hand fell on a half of the broken scotch bottle. I felt a sudden lurch as the glass pierced through my stomach and twisted its way into my intestines. It was cold and sudden. I had no way to brace myself from the pain.


THUNK!

Like a tube through a chute, Aang pushed as much air between himself and the floor as possible. The three were pushed upwards, out the hole, and up into the air. There was a deafening roar as the mountain seemed to sink in on itself. All of the air whisked out as the passage beneath them became sealed with rocks, dirt and snow. It sounded like a sigh.

Then, everything became still.

Aang tried to float Katara and Sokka to the ground. But he was exhausted; both from the cost of going into the Avatar State and from the sheer effort of getting them out of the collapsing tunnel alive. He passed out before they could safely touch down.

So they hit the ground with a heavy thud. Fortunately, no one was hurt.

"Ow...!" Sokka complained, rubbing his backside painfully. "How come I always take the brunt of the fall?"

No one answered. The mountain was shaking again. Oh, snap.

CRAAAAAAAACK!

The green light was dazzling as it was belched from what used to be the tunnel. Sokka and Katara were speechless as it formed a single throbbing orb. It was so bright that it almost made the night look like day.

It started to take the shape of a young woman. Sokka squinted. "Ayla?"

The glowing girl smiled. "When your friend's chi skyrocketed like that, I was thrown out of his body and through the wall. It's funny...going that far into the room frightened me so much. The wall is completely destroyed now, along with the rest of that tunnel...I feel lighter now. I think...I think I might be able to leave now."

"Well, that's...nice." Sokka honestly didn't know what else to say. "Glad I could...um...help?"

Ayla laughed. "You have a good heart, Sokka. I'm glad I met you and your friends. Maybe we'll see each other again." Her smile faded, replaced with a look of panic. "I'm being pulled away by something...something strong! So angry...and so sad...and so afraid too...I...I can't stop it!"

The outline of her body blurred into a nondistinct beam of light. Before anyone could say or do anything, there was a final, overwhelming pulse of green. It took a long time for the light to fade.

Sokka blinked. "She's...gone."

"But where did she go to?" Katara asked. She looked unnerved. "The Spirit World maybe?"

Aang slept on in her arms, completely oblivious.


I was lying on the ground in a puddle of my own blood. There was nothing but pain all around me; hair, skin, fingernails, all screaming that one word. My eyes were open, unseeing as my vitality pooled around my broken body. It was warm, almost soothing, like a mother's embrace. But there was no peace. Only suffering.

I don't know how long I laid there, not moving, barely breathing. Time had lost its meaning. I felt my entire world swirling into a red fog that I couldn't escape no matter which way my eyes looked. It thickened until I couldn't see anymore.

It was strange. I thought that when a person died, they saw darkness. So why was I seeing nothing but...red?


"Interesting," said Delun softly, smiling for the first time in hours.

It was a terrifying smile.


I felt hopelessly trapped. My body wouldn't move. There was nothing but crimson fog, and it was such an overwhelming presence that it clouded all other senses. The only thing I could feel was his brutish hand tangled in my hair, holding me still.

Zhao's hand. Buried in my hair. The other one was aflame, ready to burn me.

"I'm sorry Prince Zuko. I'm still waiting for your answer."

"Coward," I murmured.

"Freaking crybaby. What's the matter? Scared of your old man?"

Zhao tightened his grip on my hair, pulling my chin up as high as it would go. I thought he would pull my hair out of my scalp if he tugged any harder. "I've heard enough out of you, girl! You're lucky. I haven't even begun to teach you the real meaning of the word pain!"

What, was he kidding me?

Pain had always been my teacher since I was old enough to walk. True, I had never been given third degree burns on my face like Zuko had. The thought of Zhao doing that to me honestly scared the shit out of me. But something had changed. My fear had switched off, and anger was the predominent emotion.

The bottle, twisting its way into my stomach. And then...blank emptiness where my memory should be. I couldn't remember what happened after that. Only that I had somehow survived. Had it been a dream?

No. I still had the scar on my stomach. But stab wounds don't just heal up in one night. Something...had saved me.

I visualized that red fog, the embodiment of my anger, consuming me. I didn't realize it then, but it wasn't only my anger. It was the burning negativity of everyone around me. Zuko's frustration, Jee and Iroh's despondency, Zhao's sadism and ruthless ambition, it all seemed to throb and sing in my blood. The darkness showed in their chi, feeding my own recklessness.

"Let go of me!" I snarled. "You son of a bitch!"

"You worm..." Zhao sneered. "Your tongue just cost you...dearly."

"No!" Zuko yelled. "Wait!"

His hand reached out, as though trying to stop Zhao as he brought his fire to my face. This time, there was no mere psychological torment. He seriously meant to burn me. The clarity in this intent was brutal and crisp. It was so real it was almost like I was feeling it myself. Like Zhao's sadism had become mine somehow.

Inside of me, something snapped.

His hand flinched as the fire abruptly became more intense. It blazed like a miniature star as Zhao howled his fury. Wait...no. That wasn't fury. There were many things I heard in his voice, and rage was only a small part of it. Rather, it was the pain, fear, and confusion that stood out in his cry.

His grip on my hair loosened and without thinking, I kicked my leg backwards as far as I could get it. In one furious movement, I wrested myself free and flung myself away from him. But rather than feeling relief at my having been freed, I only felt malevolent. There was a burning need to be vindicated that went back years before I even started watching the show.

I wanted to take it out on Zhao. But apparently I had to get in line because now his entire arm was on fire, and Zhao couldn't seem to control it anymore. I sat in the dirt watching the fire, feeling strangely exhilerated yet horrified at the same time.

I don't know why I felt so afraid. It wasn't like I was doing it. Right?

"What's wrong, Zhao?" I sneered, the words coming from somewhere deeper and darker inside of me. "Afraid of your own fire?"

That was the last thing I could remember. My strength suddenly failed me, and my vision faded to black. The only thing I could hear was the huff of the fire abruptly going out.


A/N: So? Any reactions to the...erm...outcome? What's happening to Julie? Where did Ayla go? What will Zuko and Iroh do now that the Agni Kai has reached its unexpected conclusion. Or...maybe not so unexpected. You all were saying things in your reviews, wondering if Julie would end up being a Firebender. Well, let me nip this in the butt right now. JULIE IS NOT A FIREBENDER.

And no, she's not an all-powerful, God-modding Mary Sue either. Everything she describes in the Agni Kai CAN and WILL be explained in later chapters. Of course it's not going to make any sense now. It's too soon to spoil the plot.

If you guys want to blow the whistle on me after you find out what's going on, feel free to do so. But for the moment, just enjoy the show. Oh, and review! Please REVIEW!