36. IN THE END, THE COUPLE WE TALKED TO PROVED TO BE JUST THE PEOPLE WE NEEDED. Once they were convinced that we meant no harm, were not spies for my father, and (by their standards, least importantly) could actually pay, they took us to a friend of theirs, an actual, honest-to-Agni Air Nomad. He wasn't an airbender, but he still knew all the paths up to the main temple. For a modest fee, they made the introductions, and for another modest fee, the man, a rather weathered, spindly, elderly individual who still somehow looked like he could break rocks with his bare hands, agreed to take us up into the mountains.

The journey there was incredibly pleasant, and the views along the way were nothing short of magnificent. We slept out in the open, Katara and I snuggled together, Toph and Sokka scattered about, while our guide, who went by the delightfully strange name Kalu, dozed contently with his head resting comfortably on the stomach of his ostrich-horse, a beast as ancient and threadbare as he was himself. During the day, we walked, trailing behind our guide, who spoke little, merely puffing silently on his gnarled stick of a pipe while humming to himself. The rest of us took up his silence, and contented ourselves with taking in the sights.

Like I said before, the land that slowly revealed itself was nothing short of incredible. It took several days to reach our destination, and with each passing moment, we climbed higher and higher, until it almost felt like we could reach out and touch the sky. It was cold, sure, but a kind, gentle cold, and the snow that covered the ground was thin and crunchy. We traveled along a narrow, winding path, up and up, twisting this way and that, passing between towering trees that seemed to grow before our very eyes. The wind grew stronger, the higher we climbed, but somehow, Kalu seemed to know the path to follow that would always keep the growing mountains between us and the source of the breeze.

And the mountains…oh, the mountains. They were marvelous, breath-taking. I couldn't get enough of them. None of us could. Even Toph was entranced. She couldn't see them, but, as she tried to explain, forced into stumbling Guangzhou that I translated for the others, she could feel them. She could feel their size, their depth, sense their very bones, the life-force that pulsed like blood under the rock and dirt and stone. And when the sun would rise in the morning, dragging me from my comfortable snuggle with it, the light would dance across the jagged peaks and turn the world a blinding cacophony of rainbow-colored white.

Needless to say, after that journey, our final arrival at the temple was a bit of a disappointment. Toph put it best.

"Hey, Kalu, don't take this the wrong way," she said, shaking her head as she looked around, "but this place is a bit of a dump."

Katara, who was standing by Toph at that moment, responded by shooting the girl a glare and saying, "Toph, what did we tell you about being nice?"

Toph made a great show of pondering before shrugging and saying, "I haven't a clue. I probably wasn't listening."

Katara rolled her eyes and pinched her nose. "Because of course you weren't." She sighed, and continued shaking her head. "And besides, how do you even know it's a dump?"

Toph scoffed, waving a hand to encompass the temple grounds. "It's like I keep telling you guys, I'm blind, but I'm not that blind. I can feel this place crumbling to the ground."

Katara rolled her eyes once more. "Well, I think it has charm."

It was now Toph's turn to roll her eyes. "You would."

While this exchange was going on, Sokka and I were helping Kalu unload the saddlebags that had spent the journey precariously piled on the back of the man's ostrich-horse. If Kalu took offense at Toph's remarks, or even so much as noticed, he didn't show it. Instead, he just continued on his task, unloading his animal and indicating where Sokka and I were to put things by a series of points and grunts. The bags were heavy and full to bursting, and smelled strongly of fresh fruits and vegetables and bread. When everything was done, we all took turns bowing our thanks to the man, who merely grunted, accepted the second half of his fee, climbed back on his mount, and rode off. In the past four days, if he had said so much as ten words, I would've been surprised.

And with that, we were left alone in what felt a little bit like an empty tomb.

"You know," Sokka said, leaning over while I lit a cigarette for him, "I have to admit, Toph has a point. This place is a bit of a dump."

Katara was next in the Zuko lighting cigarettes line, and took a few puffs as she frowned and said, "You really shouldn't talk about it like that."

Sokka arched an eyebrow. "Why not? I'm just being honest."

"Yeah," I say, finally lighting my own cigarette after lighting Toph's, "but it's disrespectful. Don't you realize what happened here?"

Sokka's face fell, and even Toph allowed herself to look bashful for a moment. "Oh…right…" Sokka rubbed the back of his neck, looking awkward. "You're right, of course. My bad."

Katara nods. "That's right." She turns to me, a thoughtful look on her face. "Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"What language do Air Nomads speak?"

I flick through my mental files for a moment before answering. "Something called, if I remember correctly, Gorkhali. My uncle taught me how to read it." I chuckle, turn to Katara. "Trust me, if you think my alphabet looks weird, you should see theirs."

Katara giggles at that. "I can imagine. Can you speak it, though?"

I sigh. "I'm afraid not. There aren't too many Air Nomads hanging around the Fire Nation giving language lessons these days." I take a second to shake the lingering guilt away, before re-focusing my attention on her. "Why do you ask?"

She points towards the front entrance of the temple. "Because I think we're about to need it."

The three of us follow her finger, and see, filing out of the temple, a half-dozen people, dressed in faded Air Nomad robes and equally divided between men and women. All of them are relatively young, not much older than we are, though they all look a little strange, what with the shaved heads that make it hard to tell who's male and who's female, at least without a second glance. They pause for a moment when they see us, talking amongst themselves, before giving a collective shrug and resuming their walk towards us. We line ourselves up at their approach and give a low bow, Katara tapping Toph's shoulder so that the gesture looks somewhat synchronized. This seems to amuse our new acquaintances, who all smile and giggle at our gesture and bow back, until one of the women steps forward and gives us a quick bow of her head.

"Svāgata. Tapā'īṁ kō hunuhuncha mailē sōdhna sakchauṁ?"

Her smile is kind and warm, friendly, even; she's obviously decided that we're not much of a threat. It does nothing to alleviate our awkwardness. There's nothing quite as uncomfortable as being forced to try and communicate with someone with whom one does not share a word. We all look at each other, nervously shifting our feet and rubbing the backs of our necks, while the Air Nomads before us wait patiently, hands clasped at their waists, gentle smiles on their faces.

Finally, Katara shrugs and says in Suomi, "I'm sorry, but I don't understand. I'm afraid none of us do."

The woman nods, slowly, sagely, before turning and motioning towards one of the monks, who steps forward and turns to me, saying in thickly accented, rather broken Nihongo, "You are…Fire Nation, yes?"

I bow my head. "I am, yes, but I mean no harm, and I come in peace."

The man chuckles, pausing to translate my words for his friends, who quickly share in the chuckle. While this happens, I steal a quick look at my friends, and am rather happy to see that my look of shock and confusion is mirrored in their faces. None of us really has any idea what's going on.

Finally, the man turns back, that same calm, relaxed smile on his face. "Yes, we…umm…know. You come Kalu…umm…come with Kalu. He no bring…umm…enemies."

"Ah," I say, nodding, "that makes sense."

Beside me, Katara is nodding, following along quite easily (hanging out with my uncle and my crew has allowed her to make picking up Nihongo rather quickly), but Sokka and Toph are left completely in the dark. Sokka seems content to wait and see, but Toph, naturally, takes this moment to lean over to me and mutter, "Look, if one of you two doesn't tell me what the fuck's going on, I'm going to bust a fucking tit."

Sokka narrowly avoids bursting into hysterics, while Katara rolls her eyes and says, "Patience, Toph. We'll explain in a bit, okay? Promise."

Toph huffs and crosses her arms, obviously unappeased, but seems to be willing to keep her peace for the nonce, though I tremble inside at the thought of her future vengeance. That drama averted (for now), I re-focus my attention on the man before me, who has been waiting patiently throughout the entire drama, looking delightfully amused. My attention back on him, he chuckles softly and says, "Here…umm…why you?"

I start to bow my head, but at the sight of the amusement with which the assembled party seems to view my inbred courtesies, abort the gesture. I cover the gap by coughing into my hand, before saying, "We are here to seek information on the Avatar."

The man nods slowly, his smile turning into a faint halfway point between a grin and a frown. "Oh? You look for Aang?"

My eyes widen a bit at that, and I feel the enlightenment ripple through my friends. Sokka leans over, asking in a quiet voice, "I heard a name. Who's Aang?"

"Aang," Katara replies, "it would seem, is the Avatar."

"Or at the very least," Toph points out, "was."

Sokka nods, pursing his lips in thought. "Well then, it looks like we're finally getting somewhere."

"That," Katara says, speaking the words in my mind, "remains to be seen." She steps closer to me and takes my hand, squeezing it tight and giving me a little look of encouragement. I smile back, then turn to my new friend.

"Yes," I say, "we're looking for Aang, though we didn't know that before."

It takes a few tries to get the message across, before the man nods and smiles and does a little translating back to his companions. The first person we met, the woman, frowns, and asks a question that sounds rather sharp and unfriendly, or at least, from what I can tell, by their standards, because all the others seem to not be pleased by how she says it, though they all obviously agree with the sentiment. The man, nodding, turns back to me, and asks, "Why you look for Aang? For…Avatar?"

"We hope," I say, choosing my words carefully, my grasp on Katara's hand tightening by the minute, "to restore balance to the world, the end the war, to try to fix what's gone wrong." Again, this takes a few tries to make sure he understands, but my words seem to be the right ones. When he relays this back to the others, their frowns soften, and even the woman who asked the question seems relieved at my answer. There follows about five minutes or so, while they all confer quietly amongst themselves, while my friends and I stand in the sun, feeling a lot like bumps on a log. We've all burned through our cigarettes by now, and I now I'm itching for another, but I resist the temptation. I feel like we're at some sort of critical moment, the first trial that will determine whether or not my second attempt to find the Avatar will turn out as pointless as the first.

Finally, the man turns back to me, once more smiling, while the others move to the saddlebags that Kalu dropped off and begin picking them up and carrying them inside the temple. "You, come with?" He taps on his chest. "We take you…to…one who help?"

I relay this for Sokka and Toph's benefit, after which we all bow and give him our thanks. He is greatly amused by this, then, with open, gentle gestures, begins ushering us into the temple itself.

As much as I hate to admit it, or even think about it, Toph was right: The place, for lack of a better word, really is a dump. It's obvious that people still live there, but not many, and they're probably scattered through the ruins, not numerous enough to do more than maintain where they physically live. Everything else is in various states of disrepair. Some buildings and structures are completely collapsed, piles of rubble strewn along surprisingly well-maintained paths, while others lean or tilt or seem to crumble before our very eyes. We spy other Air Nomads from time-to-time, monks and nuns of various ages, but the impression I get is such that I'd be very surprised if more than a few hundred people lived here.

Toph seems to feel it more than anyone. The decrepit, hollow feel of the place seems to way down on her, causing her to turn uncharacteristically quiet and thoughtful. She walks very close to Sokka, a pensive look on her face, eyes on the ground. At one point, several minutes after we walk in through the entryway, she looks to me and asks, "Zuko?"

"Hmm?"

"How many people used to live here? Before the war."

I can only shrug. "Honestly, no one knows. The Air Nomads used to keep to themselves, and besides, they were nomads. They didn't tend to stick to one place long enough to be counted."

She nods. "Makes sense…but were there any guesses?"

I sigh, feeling defeated and beaten by the question. "They say that there were upwards of a half-million people living around the Western Air Temple, including about twenty-thousand monks and nuns at the temple itself."

Sokka whistles. "Wow…that's a lot. Who said that, if no one was counting them?"

My heart twitches at the question, but, as usual, Katara saves me, shooting her brother a look and saying, "Drop it, Sokka."

He looks like he's about to fire a retort, until Toph socks him one in the arm and gives him one of her patented looks. Realization dawns on his face, and he mumbles an apology before continuing the rest of the walk in silence.

I feel for him, I really do. It's not his fault. It's just…I don't want to talk about it…

I don't want to think about it…

It makes me want to cry…

Katara walks a lot closer to me after that. They all do, really. Sokka sees the shame in my face and Toph feels it and before I know it, all of us are walking together, hand-in-hand, giving each other strength in this place of darkness and bad dreams and horrors that will never, should never, be forgotten.

Our final destination, it seems, is a large courtyard, well-trimmed and maintained, the space swept clean and the plants and the grass cut and polished. There's a feeling of peace here, a feeling of warmth and welcome. I don't know why, but I instantly feel a good ten pounds lighter, the second I set foot on the grass. All of us do; a sigh of relief seems to roll through us.

And it all seems to emanate from the man sitting in the middle…

Our guide strides forward, leaning down and speaking to the man sitting in the grass. A quick conversation passes, before our guide stands, gives us what obviously pass for a bow among the Air Nomads, and makes his exit. We're left alone for a time, completely in silence, while the man in the courtyard finishes whatever he was doing.

I take advantage of the moment to look around, to take in where we are. Like I said, it's something of a courtyard, round and curved in shape, like the entire temple, seemingly devoid of sharp corners or harsh edges. Everything feels…well…airy, flowing and twisting and graceful in a way that puts even the Water Tribes to shame. The colors are neutral, but bright, somehow, even amongst the snow that dapples everything from foot to tip. The man is facing away from us, so that all we see is his bald head, shining in the sun, but we get a great view of what he's looking at (assuming he's looking at anything). It looks like some sort of…well…door, only it's a door without knobs or keyholes or anything that would give any indication of how to open it. It's made of dark, burnished wood, gleaming in the light, and there are four large swirling brass fixtures on it, forming the four corners of a square, all of them linked by a length of what looks like tubing. It's hard to describe, and it's rather confusing, and Toph grumbles just enough to let us know that she's irritated that we're intrigued by something we're not bothering to describe to her. Still, though, it's…interesting…

Mostly because the man before us seems so captivated by it…

Finally, he finishes whatever meditation he's doing. He stretches, the first real movement we've seen, standing and rolling around on his hips, cracking his back and giving a very satisfied-sounding sigh. He shakes his limbs, getting out the stiffness (just how long has he been here?), before, finally, turning to us and smiling.

It's hard not to return that smile. It is, without a doubt, the warmest, friendliest smile I've ever seen. The man could give my uncle lessons in the art of projecting benevolent warmth. He looks to be about my uncle's age, mid-to-late-fifties, with a clean-shaven face and laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. He's very thin and bony, almost like a scarecrow that's missing half its stuffing, but for all that, he projects an air of great strength and determination. My mind flashes back to Kalu, and I begin to wonder if being deceptively small is an Air Nomad trait.

He bows to us, easily and gracefully, in a manner that even my old etiquette teacher would approve of, before rising and saying in perfect Nihongo, "Welcome, friends. I understand that you've come on a very delicate quest."

I blink. His pronunciation, accent, syntax, all of it, is perfect; I can tell right away, just from those few words. I'm a little floored; the last thing I was expecting was that. I clear my throat, though, and bow back. "I apologize for any misunderstanding, but only my girlfriend and I speak Nihongo well. It would be better if we spoke Suomi…if you know it."

He laughs. It's a wonderful laugh, big and full, and when he speaks, none of us are surprised to find that his Suomi is just as perfect as his Nihongo. "Why, of course! Are all of my new friends following along now?"

Sokka heaves a sigh of relief, while Toph smiles and says, "About time someone said a word I can fucking understand."

The man chuckles at that, giggles, almost. "My, my, I have a feeling that you, young lady, have quite the personality."

Toph beams under the praise. "Gods-damn right I do."

The man beams right back. "Remind me to tell you all of my best dirty jokes." He winks at the rest of us, saying, in a conspiratorial tone, "I'm afraid the novices don't always appreciate my sense of humor."

Toph's face lights up, and she almost squeals with glee. "You know dirty jokes? Like, ones I haven't heard yet?"

The man bows. "I can only hope, and, at the very least, I have a feeling I'll learn some from you. What is your name, by the way?"

Toph jabs a thumb to her chest. "I'm Toph."

He nods. "A pleasure to meet you, Toph." He turns to Sokka. "And you, young warrior?"

Sokka blinks. "Warrior?"

The man nods. "Of course! I can see it in your bearing, your strength, and let's not forget, you do wear the Water Tribe wolf-tail."

Sokka blushes, reaches up and runs his hand over his hair. "Well…thank you, sir, and yeah, I'm Sokka."

The man bows once more. "A pleasure, Sokka." He turns, finally, to Katara and I, a twinkle bursting out in his eyes to join the smile on his face. "And who might you two lovebirds be?" He holds up a hand. "And might I say, it is such a pleasure to see such a nice, handsome young couple such as yourselves."

Katara and I blush bright red at that, mumbling and stuttering a bit before Katara says, "I'm Katara, and this is my boyfriend, Zuko."

The man bows once more. "A pleasure to meet you, young lady, young sir. I," he continues, placing a hand on his chest, "am called Lobsang, and I'm, sorry to say, the head of this temple, or what remains of it." He focuses his attention on me, his smile seeming to grow even more kind and understanding. "And, before we continue, I wanted to tell you, young prince, to please relax. It is not your fault what happened here, and you should have to carry the burden for the crimes of your forefathers."

To say that I'm stunned by this statement would be a grotesque understatement. I am, almost literally, floored. I actually feel the world sway around me a bit, and if it wasn't for Katara squeezing strength into my hand, I probably would've fainted right then and there. I feel heat in my face, cough a few times into my hand, and finally manage to say, "But…how…how do you know who I am?"

The man called Lobsang shrugs. "It's not hard to figure out. A young Fire Nation man, about twenty-three or so, with a scar on his face and what is obviously a royal education and upbringing and yet, seems to be eager to find the instrument of his father's downfall? Well…" He shrugs once more, looking very humble. "It wasn't that hard to figure out." He reaches up, taps a finger to his nose, and winks. "And, besides, the name was a dead giveaway."

I chuckle nervously, even as I feel…well…good. "Heh…yeah, I suppose so."

"So," Toph says, "not that I'm not having a ball, but…can you help us?"

Lobsang sighs, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. "Alas, I may not. The time of the Avatar was long before my own, and any records that might exist of where he went are locked away behind this door."

We all fall a bit at that. "So…there's nothing we can do?" Sokka asks. "You can't open the door?"

Lobsang rolls his eyes. "Of course I can open the door. All I have to do is bend some air through this opening," he points at what appears to be the end of the tubing winding around the door, "and the door will open just like that." Here, he snaps his fingers. "However, I've never opened the doors, or gone inside."

Sokka scratches his head. "If you don't mind my asking…why not?"

Lobsang smiles. "Because I didn't feel that it was my place to do so. Behind this door may lie the answers to the fate of the Avatar, but I never felt that it was my destiny to pursue that course. Rather, it has been my destiny to fight for my people, and now, in my old age, to help raise and train a new generation, such as we are."

"Well," Katara asks, looking as if she's feeling the same blossom of hope that I am, "would you mind opening it up for us?"

Lobsang bows. "Of course not. In fact, you are just the people I've been waiting for."

"How could you possibly know that?" I ask, feeling a lot like I'm talking to my uncle.

Lobsang winks and taps his nose. "I could explain how, of course, but what would the fun of that be?"

Katara rolls her eyes and whispers to me, "Did you know your uncle was an Air Nomad?"

I chuckle, whisper back, "I was just thinking the same thing," before turning back to Lobsang, bowing, and saying, "Well, if it's alright with you, we humbly beg to be allowed past this door."

Lobsang smiles, bows back, and says, "It would be my pleasure."

"And then," Toph says, "dirty jokes!"

"And food!" Sokka adds. "We get food, right? Like, meat?"

Lobsang sighs, shrugs, and says, "Well, about that…"

Man, I am doing some long-ass chapters lately…

Anyhoo! I'm in a bit of a hurry today. The girl and I have a date to go watch the USA vs. Belgium game (for the record, we're super pissed that Mexico got knocked out, and since we really want this to be Latin America's cup, we're totally rooting for Belgium), and we're running behind on that, since I just had to get this chapter out while it was still fresh.

Point being? Short author's note today. I'm sure you're all devastated.

But yeah, look! It's Lobsang! My readers from A Different Path will recognize him! Now, if you do recognize him, please, no spoilers, and also, trust me, I don't plan on doing that again. And remember, am I not a merciful writer? *wink*

For those playing the home game, Gorkhali is an old Nepali word for…well…Nepali. The current Nepali word for their language is Nepali, which isn't as fun as Gorkhali, I think we can all agree. Also, yes, I know, the Air Nomads should speak Tibetan, but guess what? Google Translate doesn't have a Tibetan setting, probably because of some political bullshit with China. So, yeah, oh well. Nepali has a cool alphabet, though!

Anyways, in the next chapter, it's kind of a goods news/bad news kind of day. Stay tuned!