This is just a super short prologue that kind of sets up the beginning of this story.

The following chapters are largely inspired by (mostly) Florence + The Machine songs - note the title.

I may upgrade the rating to M later... we shall see.

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Prologue

The boy was very strange. So different from people in the South Pole with his bald head, light clothes, and carefree attitude. There was a certain sorrow that so often hid behind the smiles of the Southern Water Tribe peoples; a hint of the trauma that they had harbored for generations. Aang seemed almost too jovial compared to the people she had known and grown up with. He was so different. Not to mention his giant bison that they were currently sitting on, wading through the icy waters. Katara wondered how he had gotten stuck in the ice and how he was still alive. He himself, however, seemed to be more interested in focusing on anything but that.

Since he had first opened his mouth to introduce himself, it was like Aang had hardly stopped talking. He had just finished regaling her brother with tales of penguin sledding when he was younger – and how he came to the South Pole to do it again – when he pulled out a map of the four Kingdoms that he had marked up with all of the places he wanted to go. Katara looked over the map, covered in scribbles and drawings, trying to ascertain what was drawn next to Omashu, when she realized Aang was talking to her.

"Sorry, what?"

"Will you guys go penguin sledding with me?"

"Aang, this is really cool that you have all these plans and all," Sokka was already saying, "But I have responsibilities to the tribe. I can't just go off with you to slide down hills of ice and snow on penguins."

He looked to Katara, hopeful. "I think we should go back to the village and get you some food," She laughed, "you must be hungry… and cold."

They arrived at the village quicker than either Katara or Sokka had expected; Appa, the flying bison, was apparently a good swimmer as well. Aang spoke pleasantly with Gran Gran, but Katara noticed a glimmer of something in her eye. Suspicion, perhaps? Then her features turned solemn.

"Aang," She started, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder, "I don't know how to tell you this… but… no one has seen an airbender in 100 years."

Aang gave her a funny look, "Well, that's just because they all live at the air temples." He explained, like she might not know what an airbender is.

Gran Gran sighed, and Katara caught Sokka's eye. The expression on her brother's face was a mix of confusion, sympathy, and bewilderment; she realized her face must read the same. How could he not know about the Air Nomad genocide? When they first met, Katara had just taken it for granted that he was an airbender; she had never left the South Pole, she figured it was entirely possible that some airbenders might have survived and bringing up the massacre of his people wasn't exactly how she wanted to introduce herself. Now, though, she realized that blissful twinkle in his eye was due to ignorance. Did he truly not know about the war?

"100 years ago," Gran Gran continued, carefully picking her words. "The Fire Nation attacked the air temples, hoping to kill the Avatar…" Katara noticed Gran Gran examining Aang's expression. "For the Avatar is the world's last hope in ending this war and stopping the tyranny of the Fire Nation. Since the attack, no one has seen an airbender."

There was a long pause as the airbender glanced around the interior of the tent. His mouth opened then closed again, as if he had something to say, but didn't know what it was. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaky and child-like, "Do you… do you think they are all dead?"

Gran Gran squeezed Aang's shoulder, "I cannot say for sure. It has been many years since I last left the South Pole."

Aang nodded meekly and thanked her. Keeping his gaze on the ground, he slipped out of the tent into the night. Katara followed; worried by the pained expression on Aang's face. He sat cross-legged just outside of the tent, staring up at the clustered band of stars that stretched across the night sky. Silently, she sat down next to him, not daring to look at him yet.

"Katara," He said at length.

She turned to look at him just in time to see a glistening tear leave the corner of his eye and run down his cheek. Those big, innocent eyes that previously held such joy, were now filled with fear and grief. Katara's heart dropped and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Aang sniffled into her shoulder and mumbled, "I- I have to go. I have to see… the t-temple… for myself."

She squeezed his shoulders harder and her voice came out soft and quiet, "I understand."

As Sokka helped Aang ready Appa, she and Gran Gran wrapped up some food for young airbender to take with him. They worked in silence, but Katara could sense that there was something Gran Gran wouldn't say – something that had occurred to her in that conversation with Aang. She felt the old woman's eyes on her while she wrapped seaweed around some boiled sea prunes.

They waved Aang off as he mounted Appa and flew out over the dark sea, disappearing among the stars into the night sky.

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"It has been 3 years, Zuko. You have seen what this war has done. The airbenders are all gone, the temples are destroyed."

"The war is not my concern now, Uncle. When I take my throne, I will end it. But first, I must find the Avatar."

"Prince Zuko, I admire your drive but… we have been here before. The temples are all destroyed. The islands are deserted. Why do you insist on returning?" The old man placed a steaming cup of tea in his nephew's hand.

"Yes, the temples are destroyed, but the Avatar is out there somewhere. If he were hiding in an area that was populated, someone would have found him by now."

"And what if he isn't out there?"

The young prince turned to the retired general, fury blazing in his eyes, "He is out there, Uncle. He has to be… and I'm going to find him." He turned back to look out at the ancient temple in the distance, partially obscured by clouds. "Tell the crew to prepare."

Iroh sighed, dropping his gaze to the sea below, "As you wish, my nephew." Then he sipped his tea and left.

Zuko frowned, his Uncle's words echoing in his mind: what if he isn't out there?

The Avatar had to be out there. Zuko's honor and his crown depended on it.

He clenched his fists, shattering the tea cup in his hand.

…

The Southern Air Temple seemed unchanged since his last visit a year ago. Wind blew through the empty rooms and halls, a groaning echo that gave a ghastly aura to dilapidated structure. Zuko strode through the temple with his Uncle on his heels, sipping ginseng tea. It wasn't until they turned a corner, that he realized someone else had been here recently.

The door had been closed during his last visits and, despite all of his efforts, he could not get it open; it required airbending. But now, the door was gone and a faint blue light shone into the hallway.

Zuko's breath caught in his throat. Through the open threshold, Zuko recognized statues, thousands of them, with glowing eyes.

"Uncle." He turned to find Iroh behind him, a stony expression on his face as he stared into the room.

"It's him. It's the Avatar."

A sound traveled through the hall on the wind, a sound that Zuko had never heard before. He ran to the opening at the end of the hallway, just in time to see a huge furry creature take flight from a ledge below. On the creature's back was a saddle and, from this distance, Zuko could make out a figure clothed in yellow and orange.

It's him… It's the Avatar.

"Get back to the ship, now!"

Thanks for reading! More chapters to come soon! I imagine this is going to turn into a long one...