Azula wakes to darkness and a grating voice.
"Of all the people to be tied up to in the Spirit World it just had to be you," grumbles Katara.
Azula kicks her foot out, her sole crushing against solid earth.
"How do you know we're in the Spirit World?" demands Azula.
"Look up."
Azula tempers irritation at the waterbender and cranes her neck upwards. Jostling the ropes that bound them back to back.
We're in a pit, thinks Azula at first as she stares at the misty circle of light above them. Then she realizes that the mist isn't sinking in, as gravity dictates, but swirling around as though it was led by an invisible current flowing over glass. There is an ethereal feel to it and, despite her focus, Azula cannot assess the distance between them and the exit.
"For the record, I'd rather be tied to a rampaging Tigerdillo," replies Azula, ignoring the pricklings of fear.
Katara wiggles in her bonds. "Can you feel your bending at all?"
No. Azula cannot.
Avatar nonsense, thinks Azula spitefully and takes stock of her predicament. No bending. No injuries. Azula privately blames the injection for her failing. She would have woken before the waterbender otherwise.
"What do you last remember?" asks Azula as she confirms, for the third time, that there was no slack between the rope and her hands.
"Lotus is behind the red gas," says Katara, bitterly, "The antidote she had us help make was actually the formula. She got Toph and I with the fumes. You?"
"Injection," says Azula before frowning as she recalled how she was taken out. "Lotus is a waterbender."
"Stronger than you?"
Azula pushes both her legs against the pitch-black wall; shoving Katara.
"Hey! Cut that out!" exclaims Katara.
"She snuck up on me," answers Azula with a final shove.
Katara fumes and braces her own legs against the wall, before swallowing her ire.
"We may be able to climb out by pressing against each other like this," says Katara.
"I already thought of that, waterbender. It's too likely to result in both of us plummeting to our death."
Katara grits her teeth. "Do you want to stay down here?" she asks.
"Instead of plummeting to my death? Yes."
Azula kicks against the wall; hoping to break off something sharp.
"Will you stop that?" snaps Katara, "It's bad enough being in your company without the background noise."
"I'm trying to get us untied, and any noise is preferable to your annoying voice."
"My voice annoys you? Good to know! I'll keep talking just for you, Princess Azula."
Azula tries to call upon a flame. Nothing. She grits her teeth.
"Hmm, what to talk about?" continues Katara, "Oh, I know! How about when you apologized for striking Aang and Zuko with lightning? Oh wait, you didn't—"
"Get over it."
Katara pushes off against the wall and Azula has to brace her legs to avoid being shoved into it face first.
"Get over it?" hisses Katara, her voice taking on a deadly, rising, tone. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to pretend everything is fine because you haven't tried to kill us again. Well, I'm not Aang or Zuko. I don't forgive those who've tried to kill me and my friends just because they had a mental breakdown and I—"
Azula drops her legs and twists, using the forward motion to scrape Katara against the wall. Katara responds by dropping to her knees and hefting her shoulders; pulling Azula off balance.
"You didn't even say sorry! At least Zuko apologized!" yells Katara as they twist around on the floor.
Azula strikes back with, "You expect the Avatar to solve all your problems! If it wasn't for him you would have never left the South Pole!"
"Excuse me? I trust Aang and—"
"You trust the Avatar," cuts off Azula, "you expect him to rescue us out of this situation."
"I don't expect him to rescue me all the time!" snarls Katara, "And when I do, it's because I believe in him. Not that I'd expect you to know that, considering how you don't have any friends!"
"You've never been on a pedestal yourself. Of course you wouldn't know," scoffs Azula, ignoring the deepness of that last jab, "I'll educate you. Being on a pedestal, having people rely on you as a prodigy, means that your love is conditional. You'll appreciate Aang as long as he meets your conditions. If he fails then he's no longer worthy of your attention. He's a mistake." Like Zuzu. "And if she doesn't know your conditions, doesn't meet them in the way you wanted but never bothered to specify, then she's a monster and you're better off without her." Like me.
"Is that what it was like for you?" asks Katara, her quiet voice cutting through the air. This close, Katara can feel Azula's body forcibly relax.
"Zuko told me stories," offers Katara by way of explanation when Azula says nothing.
There is silence in the pit.
"Azula always lies," recites Azula in a half-whisper. "You would have never believed my apology."
"I didn't take you for a coward," retorts Katara.
"I'm not one. I'm sorry."
A pause.
"I accept your apology. If you lean your head back I think I can grab your headpiece with my mouth and use it to cut these ropes."
"Try not to get spit all over it."
"No promises."
"I can't see," says Toph.
"I know," replies Sokka.
"No, I mean. I can't see." Toph scrunches up her face in an attempt to stop any tears from forming. It was bad enough that she was helpless, she wouldn't be helpless and crying.
She feels Sokka's calloused hand touch her arm.
"What does the ground feel like?" he asks.
Toph raises her foot and stomps it against the ground. "Watery but not really. Same as before. What's it like on your end?"
"There's a fog," explains Sokka, "A misty, swirly one. I can't see past it."
"Can you see the ground?"
"No."
Sokka thumps a club into the ground, carving out a line. He removes the club. "Can you feel that line I made just now?"
Toph moves her foot over the spot. "No, it's gone."
Sokka breathes out through his teeth. "How lucky are you feeling right now?" he asks, returning his weapon. "Because we need to pick a direction to go before something bad finds us or the others."
There's a fog.
Aang blinks awake, a chill seeping into him, and groggily asks, "What happened?"
"I made a deal."
"Hama," says Aang, standing up. Warily he takes note of the distance between them and her relaxed hands. "You're behind the sickness of Ba Sing Se?"
"Is that what they're calling it now? A sickness?" Hama smiles coldly. "The Earth Kingdom didn't help anyone, you know. Not the Water Tribes, nor the Air Nomads."
She steps back, disappearing into the fog.
"That doesn't make it right," answers Aang, hefting his staff.
"Don't lecture me about morality, boy," scolds Hama.
Aang twists, trying to discern the location of her voice. "Why not? Seems to me like you're judging everyone else's."
Hama cackles. Her laugh echoing from all sides.
Aang clenches his jaw. "What deal did you make?" he shouts.
"Years of my life in return for this." With that, the fog coalesces into a wave that heads towards Aang.
Aang spins his staff in defense. I can't bend, he realizes moments too late as the wave slams into him.
Water. Cold. Frozen. My fault. They're dead and it's my fault.
Aang stumbles backwards before bringing his staff down and bracing himself against it.
My friends are alive. They need me, he reminds himself, forcefully. Realization dawning on him.
"The fish!" he exclaims. "You were behind the disappearing villagers!"
Hama scowls. "Yes," she says curtly.
"Did the corrupt spirit force you to?"
"No, not at all," Hama smiles and gestures around them. "As you cleverly figured out, the spirit fed on sadness. I had plenty to offer it. This place is made up of sad memories, the years I lost during the war, and I saw no reason to not also feed and augment the spirit with the sadness of others."
Aang strikes with his staff, hoping to catch her off guard, only for Hama to effortlessly block him with her waterbending.
Her eyes glint with anger. "The spirit gave me my youth back, Avatar. Which is more than you ever gave me."
"The war is over," he protests as Hama disappears once more. The fog shifting around him slightly, only enough to let him know that she is circling.
Aang swallows his fear. He waits and he listens.
There is a chill.
He strikes, only for his blow to sweep through a cold cloud of nothingness.
The fog around him thickens.
"You judge me on my morality?" continues Hama. Her voice mocking in both tone and nearness. "How ironic considering I believed in you, Avatar. I hoped just like my dear dead comrades that you would wake up and end the war."
Aang spins in an attempt to blow the fog away, but his muscles jerk back and lock into place and his body is no longer his to control.
Hama steps out in front of him, the fog swirling around her. Feeding off her, realizes Aang. She lifts her hands and he strains as, like a puppeteer, she commands his arms to do the same.
"But you put his firstborn on the throne," says Hama, closing her hands.
"What is it?" asks Toph as Sokka stills.
"Bodies," he answers in a strained voice.
She squeezes his arm. "Anyone we know?"
Sokka, still letting himself be used as an anchor, steps towards one and kneels. "They're Fire Nation soldiers," he says, brushing his fingers against the skull-shaped visor. He lifts it up and flinches. "They're old," he lies, "Let's keep moving."
