disclaimer. i was today years old when i learned that disclaimers are a holdover from a bygone FFN era. oh well. it still doesn't belong to me.

author's notes. february is a useless month, let's cancel it.

thanks to everybody who's still reading and following along! creativity and motivation have been pretty tough to muster these days, but your kind comments really do make all the difference.

i give you...

southern lights

chapter xlvii. a time for shadows

the world lies in the hands of evil
we pray it would last

"life burns" / apocalyptica

Lee takes his time pulling down his small tent, rolling the weathered cloth and shoving it into his shapeless bag. The worn metal of his boomerang still glints beneath it, the flashing silver catching the faint threads of light filtering through the canopy of lifeless branches.

With a grunt, he heaves his pack over his shoulder and trudges over to the periphery of the campsite, where a half-dismantled tent still stands. Ty Lee frets in front of it, fussing between undoing the fastenings holding it up, and the pale young warrior huddled underneath the slumping fabric.

He tries to ignore the churn of guilt in his stomach as he draws closer, the carpet of moss on the ground softening the crunch of his footsteps. Even from the small distance, the daylight ripples glaringly along the profile of Suki's face, scrubbed clean of her warrior's makeup. One hand holds a poultice firmly to her cheek, but the damp rolled cloth isn't enough to hide the bruises rolling stark along the line of her jaw.

Her eyes widen when she spots him, before narrowing into a glare as she turns away. Her shoulders stiffen in protest, but she presses her lips tightly together in a furious silence.

"We're breaking camp soon," he says to Ty Lee instead, setting his heavy pack down on a muddy boulder. "Need a hand?"

Ty Lee stops in her paces before nodding shortly.

Lee offers her a reassuring grin before sneaking a furtive glance at Suki, seated like a stone statue a small space away. He lowers his voice to a hush. "How is she?"

"Um…" Bright spots of colour rush to Ty Lee's face as she shakes her head quickly. "Her aura's still pretty green, if you know what I mean?"

Privately, Lee had no clue what she meant, but he takes a tentative step toward the formidably silent Suki, her back still turned toward him. "Maybe I should talk to her?"

"Best not," Ty Lee advises him kindly, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She's still pretty mad, all things considered."

He sighs heavily, something inside him plummeting at the Kyoshi Warrior's intractable silence. "Right."

Quickly, she turns away from him, busying herself with scooping up the items scattered inside the drooping tent and shoving them haphazardly into her bag.

He lingers for a while longer until Haru finally shows up and takes over. Stumbling halfheartedly back to the main campsite, he glances over his shoulder one last time, watching glumly as Ty Lee helps Suki hobble to her feet, her left leg strapped to a board as she leans heavily on a sturdy length of whittled wood.

Ignoring the curious eyes trailing him, he marches to the small ring of tents on the periphery. The waterbenders in their grimy Dai Li uniforms work quickly and silently to tear down camp, dousing fires and packing up the small shelters with grim efficiency. He catches snatches of quiet conversation in a foreign language that somehow still sounds familiar to his ears, like the memory of a song whose melody he couldn't quite place.

Then as though by some unspoken signal they slow to a halt at his approach. He fidgets awkwardly, standing just apart of their small circle, but suddenly aware of every gaze training upon him.

By now, he recognizes a few of them, if not by name. Young Arrluk with his long dark braids, who had been his guard and almost a friend in a strange way. Fearsome Atka, the grizzled matriarch who led them all. She sits in the heart of their small circle, a queen among the forty odd benders who had survived the polar wars and all that came after. All that was left of their tribe, hidden beneath bowed heads and borrowed uniforms.

"We're heading on soon," he says with some effort, when he can no longer bear their inquisitive, tense silence. "You should be packed and ready to go."

Atka breaks his gaze to glance over her shoulder, barking, "Iluak, Ruska. Go help the others." A pair of twin waterbenders rise and join the flurry of silent activity behind her before Atka meets his eyes again. "You don't trust us."

Lee shrugs awkwardly. "Can you blame me?"

"No." Atka lowers her head, suddenly preoccupied with the calluses on her knobbly fingers. "No, I cannot."

He watches her blankly, as her fingers stretch and flex aimlessly over the unmoving pools of water gathering in the crevices between the tree roots. He wonders if he imagines the silent despair radiating from all of them, abruptly and irrevocably cut off from their element. "It's okay to not trust us either," he says quietly, surprising himself. "After everything you've been through."

She stares at him sharply and he flinches. Atka's face was pinched and weathered, with a hawk-like nose and fierce pale eyes that seemed to see straight through him. "That remains to be seen," she says slowly, closing her eyes with a rattling sigh. "Until then...this too, we must endure."

Lee thinks unhappily of Jun, lying forgotten somewhere at the bottom of a silent leg. Of Suki, hobbling with her broken leg and her silent walls impassable to him. "That we do," he agrees glumly.

By the time they reach the small town nestled in the forest surrounding the outskirts of Ba Sing Se, the sun is low in the sky. The deepening shadows cast the towering village walls in a veil of purple mist, while the shabby houses with their shuttered windows stand in undisturbed long rows.

Lee's heart races as they file through the village gates, the thick silence and absolute stillness giving the stark illusion that the entire place was abandoned. In fact, only after the legion of Lake Laogai's waterbenders enter the village do the gates swing shut and they find themselves surrounded by challengers armed to the teeth and brandishing their weapons warningly.

"They're not Dai Li," he hears himself explain for what felt like the thousandth time. "Don't be fooled by their uniforms, Yao."

The burly earthbender scowls as he strokes his bushy black beard. "How do you know?" he accuses, glaring suspiciously at the silent Water Tribesmen removing their pointed metal hats one by one. "They could be spies for Long Feng!"

"I doubt they're keen on being found by Long Feng, after turning on him and helping us escape," Lee replies wearily. "They were the waterbenders of Lake Laogai. They were responsible for the Dai Li's sleeper program."

Yao glances at him sharply. "Were?" he echoes quizzically. "Am I to understand you somehow convinced the whole lot of them to pursue a career change, Lee?"

"No. More like they resigned voluntarily," Lee grunts, watching the waterbenders raise their hands defensively as more rebel soldiers surround them with long sharp spears pointing directly at them. "They lost their bending."

Yao's eyes widen as he glances up at the darkening night sky. In the glare of the dying sun, a few bright stars dot the deep blue overhead. "It must be the moon," he breathes.

"What?" Lee asks, rubbing his ear to make sure he heard correctly. "What about the moon?"

Yao shakes his head with a frown. "I'm not the one who should be explaining this. Come on, I'll take you all inside."

Lee follows him, glancing back with growing unease at the narrow streets of the previously abandoned village, now packed full with rebel soldiers who force the waterbenders into a single file, flanking them on either side. "You guys seem awfully comfy out here, Yao. Aren't you worried about the Dai Li stumbling onto this little hidey hole?"

A sudden knowing smirk flits across the man's brutish face. "Nah," he replies, pausing in front of an unassuming wooden house, seemingly empty with its darkened, shuttered windows and falling into disrepair from the worn slats of wood comprising its exterior. A single old man with a peg leg and a long white braid sits in front of the cracked door, rocking back and forth on a creaky wooden rocking chair. "We took a page out of your book, Lee."

"Huh?" But Lee glances at the bucket full of water beside the old man's chair, and the gleaming purple critter he withdraws from its depths. He lets out a laugh of surprise. "No way! Suckers?"

"Just like you suggested," Yao allows, grabbing the pentapus and plastering it on his face. "Turns out, the Dai Li were terrified of contracting pentapox. They've given us a wide berth since."

"I can't believe that actually worked!" Lee crows triumphantly, watching as Yao strokes the small purple creature, which lets go of his cheek with a small pop. His eyes widen at the unsightly purple spots newly disfiguring the man's skin. "You've been doing this for a while, haven't you?"

"We've been busy," Yao replies, sticking the pentapox onto Lee's face without a word of warning. "Turns out, entire villages between New Ozai and here have come down with pentapox. The spread has been uncontrollable. Everyone has had to stay indoors, and the village gates entirely sealed. Long Feng's orders."

"Quarantine, huh?" Lee grins, glancing back behind him. A group of rebels have already descended upon Haru and the other members of their small traveling group with more of the tiny purple suckers. "You guys are good."

"Why thank you, Lee." Yao motions to the door of the dilapidated house, swinging slightly ajar on its rusted old hinges. "Now come on. It's past time we caught up with everyone else."

Inside, the house is nearly as empty and shabby as its exterior, the light of a single oil lamp illuminating the warped floorboards and the peeling paint on the walls. Lee tries not to wince at the screeching creaking sound the floorboards make under the weight of his feet, and of everyone else following him. Yao marches in front of him, unfazed by the way the entire house seems to protest under the weight of its visitors. He wonders if the house was stable enough to support all their combined weight, or if it would cave in and collapse on all of them, burying them alive without a sign or a warning.

But to his surprise, the ugly old structure was sounder than it appeared, and it stays upright, hiding the lot of them from view as Yao leads them down the creaky wooden steps leading to the basement cellar, and then into the hole tunneled into the ground under the house.

He wills himself to stay calm, but it had been a long while indeed since his last official rebel meeting. The small gathering in the teashop basement with Pakku hadn't been so long ago, but before that, he strains to remember. No wonder his heart trembles with excitement as he follows Yao through the narrow tunnel leading further and deeper into the earth, the light of the single oil lamp beginning to clash with the greenish phosphorescence of the glowing rocks studding the walls.

"What is this place?" he hears Ty Lee breathe, a small distance back. "It's so pretty!"

Suki snorts. "Speak for yourself. This looks too similar to Lake Laogai for my liking."

Yao tosses a sympathetic glance over his shoulder at that. "My apologies," he acknowledges with a sheepish grin. "But options for underground lighting are somewhat limited. Ah, here we are."

He pauses in front of a smooth rock wall spanning the height of the small tunnel and completely blocking their path forward. Placing the oil lamp onto the ground, he lunges forward and raises his fists with a grunt.

The wall splits down its middle before the rift widens, opening a doorway into the rock. Lee glimpses a flickering of light high in the air before he follows Yao into the sprawling underground chamber lying in wait beyond.

He hears the loud gasps of awe echoing from behind him as the other members of his traveling group follow. He supposes he can understand their amazement. After the cramped confines of Lake Laogai and the labyrinthine passages of the Dai Li bunker at the Sun Warrior's battle, the wide open space yawning around them felt almost too spacious. The ground was leveled smooth, punctuated here and there by clusters of glowing crystals, while the vaulted ceilings rise dizzyingly high above their heads. Doorways set into the rock slide open and shut, as though the walls had a thousand little mouths leading anywhere and everywhere: up to the surface of the small town above ground, through to the hidden spaces where most of the rebels dwelt out of sight. A raised plateau studded with more glowing rock protrudes from the back wall, on which a giant crystal throne sits. An impressive crystal chandelier hangs from the middle of the ceiling, the etched glass lit from within by a swarm of glowflies trapped in its depths.

"These are some sweet digs you've set up here," Lee remarks, studying the sprawling audience chamber and the crowd steadily building inside it with appraising eyes. "And within throwing distance of Ba Sing Se, too! I'm impressed."

"Well, it's a good thing we didn't have to fish you out of Lake Laogai," Yao retorts, steering them through the crush of people to settle at a spot close to the raised platform. "Otherwise we'd risk throwing the Dai Li onto the scent, and we'd have to build a new hideout all over again!" As though to punctuate his words, he throws a suspicious glance over his shoulder at the regiment of waterbenders bringing up the rear of their group, bereft of their hats but still dressed conspicuously in Dai Li uniforms.

Lee crosses his arms wearily at the multitude of ugly stares being thrown in the direction of the waterbenders. "They're with us, Yao. Believe it or not, they defected from the Dai Li at great personal risk."

Yao snorts. "Hmph. Sounds more like a great self-preservation risk, if you ask me. Still, the King will decide their fate, for better or worse."

Lee whistles appreciatively. "The Mad King, huh? Is he finally going to make an appearance?"

The sound of a glider opening and snapping shut punctuates his question. Master Iio marches serenely to the front of the building crowd, the glowing light touching her arrow tattoos to a brilliant shade of green. "Bumi has been busy indeed, Master Lee," she pronounces in her soft, ringing voice. "There is a time for fighting in the shadows, and a time for fighting in the sun. And soon, very soon, the moment will come for our time in the sun." A smattering of applause greets her words as she slides her glider into the holster strapped to her back. "We must be ready for it."

A sudden rumbling makes the ground tremble beneath Lee's feet. His arms shoot out as he struggles to catch his balance. Somewhere behind him, he hears Suki curse as her wooden crutch clatters to the ground.

"I've got you," Ty Lee says, bracing Suki's weight with her shoulder. "Just lean on me."

Lee glances back at them ruefully, something like a faint stab of envy in his chest as Suki grunts out her thanks.

"Well!" an old man's quavering voice calls out, breaking through the subdued conversations buzzing around the underground lair. "If it isn't our tricksy friends, back from their tricksiest of trips!"

Lee blinks before turning back to face the rock plateau. Climbing out of a rift in the back wall, and settling into the giant crystal throne is an old man with tufts of white hair sprouting like errant weeds out the sides of his head. His purple robes billow loosely over his body as he fidgets in the throne, evidently trying to get comfortable. A shadow passes over his age-spotted face as he sighs and shakes his head. "All the trimmings and trappings of royalty, and they can't even make this chair comfortable!"

"Um, Sir, it's a throne," Yao replies awkwardly, dipping into a half-kneel. "It's not supposed to be comfortable."

"It's not?"

"No."

"Oh." The old king hangs his head, the bald skin shining bright in the light of the glowfly-chandelier. "Next, I suppose you're going to tell me to wear that ridiculous old hat."

Yao groans heavily. "That would be your crown, Your Majesty."

The old man crosses his arms across his chest, slouching petulantly in his throne. "But it's so heavy!"

"Yes. As it's supposed to be," Yao argues, sounding more weary with every word. "The crown is a symbol of your status, Your Maj -"

"But my poor head can't handle the weight of it anymore," complains the old man, rubbing the top of his head. "It gives me such dreadful headaches!"

"But Sir," admonishes Yao, now climbing up onto the plateau and approaching the side of the throne cautiously, "without your crown, how will people know you're the king?"

The old man pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully before slouching forward in defeat. "You're right," he announces dejectedly. "As usual, Yao. You speak such sense."

Yao bobs his head in visible relief. "Thank you, Your M -"

"Although I don't understand why, as king, I can't simply order a lighter crown," the old man continues, waving a hand dismissively. A column of rock springs up next to the throne, on top of which rests an ornate, clunky gold crown. He sighs as he picks it up and places it mournfully on top of his head. "Or some comfortable feather pillows to ease my poor old aching bones?"

Yao opens his mouth to argue, and then pauses. "I...I suppose nobody ever thought of it before, King Bumi."

Lee raises his eyebrows as the king cackles, stroking the tines of his crown with his wizened hand. "That's King Bumi?" he mutters to Master Iio, who appears unfazed by the old king's antics. "He seems a few sheaves short of the haystack, if you ask me."

"Well, was anybody?" demands King Bumi, breaking out of his laughing fit to stare balefully at Lee. "Asking you, that is?"

Lee gulps nervously, taken aback that the old man could hear him from so far away. He shakes his head quickly, blood rushing to his cheeks. "No! Um, I mean - no offense, Your Majesty -"

But the old king breaks into more laughter, cutting Lee's stammered apologies off without another word. "Madness," he chokes out, wiping at the corner of his eyes. "And genius. To youth, it must all look the same. You think I don't hear what they all call me? King Bumi, the mad genius, going senile in his old age."

It takes Lee a while to realize that his mouth has been hanging wide open. He closes it uncomfortably, no longer certain of what, if anything, he was supposed to say.

"I suppose to an outsider, it would hardly look any different," Bumi continues, resting his chin on his hand. "There was a time when all us mad old people were young, weren't we? Where's Iio - ah, there she is - you remember when we were all just a bunch of young mad people, don't you?"

A small smirk crosses Iio's thin mouth. "Like it was yesterday, Bumi."

"Ah." Bumi gives her a dreamy smile. "What a bunch we were! You, me, Gyatso, Pakku - that sour old sea prune, acting as though a single happy moment could kill him -"

Lee chortles in surprise. "Yup, that sounds like him alright!"

Bumi nods at him encouragingly and Lee feels his previous awkwardness slide away. "And then the fiery fellows to round it all out! Piandao and his rock garden - remember how upset he'd get when I'd mess it all up -"

"As clear as day," Iio replies patiently. "I remember many a duel between you two to patch things up too."

"Those were the good old days," Bumi sighs, his smile faltering somewhat as he straightens in his throne. "Us on Piandao's estate, with General Jeong-Jeong...and Iroh, too."

"Iroh? You mean Emperor Iroh?" Lee scarcely believes his ears. "Iroh of the Fire Empire?"

"Back then, he was just the Crown Prince," Bumi allows, before letting out a long sigh. "How long ago that all was. Back when we thought the four nations could be united under the banner of the Empire, when we thought our similarities could transcend our ancestral divides. Remember, Iio, what we used to call ourselves?"

"The Order of the White Lotus," Iio answers, her face turning suddenly grim. "I remember, Bumi."

"What an idea that was!" Bumi steeples his fingers, leaning forward excitedly in his throne. "To think Iroh and I dreamed it up all in one afternoon over a pot of tea and a game of pai sho. How exciting it all seemed when we were young..."

"But -" Lee stammers, his mind working quickly to fill in the gaps, "but you rebelled against the Empire, didn't you? The tale of your rebellion is practically legend now -"

Bumi's face turns suddenly dark and Lee falls silent instantly, keen to avoid another awkward exchange with the king.

"Do you know what the problem with the White Lotus was, Iio?" the king asks solemnly, taking off his crown and rubbing the skin beneath it. "It was a union of ideas. Unity between the four nations. A devotion to the cryptic arts, threads that bound us altogether, elevated us from the banalities of our humble lives." Bumi's face hardens as he twirls the crown in his hands. "But that's all they were. Ideas."

Iio nods slowly, her face held carefully neutral as Bumi continues, his green eyes glinting madly in the shifting light of the glowfly-chandelier hanging overhead. "Iroh was comfortable as long as the White Lotus remained theoretical. A society devoted to the concept of unity, restricted to the refined, harmless art of making tea and playing board games. But as soon as those goals became concrete, tangible things…" Bumi's mouth stretches into a mirthless smile, making him appear even more deranged than he sounded, "the White Lotus fell apart."

Lee hears Iio clear her throat uncomfortably, but she says nothing.

"Iroh was devoted to his precious Empire. Even when it went against the ideals of the order he helped dream up," Bumi says bitterly, his fingers tightening around the rim of his heavy crown. "When we rose up in rebellion against the Empire, he turned against us. Lofty words, but empty deeds. He crushed our rebellion and went back to preaching unity between the four nations." He lets out a derisive snort. "In all my long years, I never met anyone who could talk out both sides of his mouth quite like him."

An awkward silence descends over the entire underground lair as Bumi trails off. Then, he replaces the crown onto his head and the manic smile returns to his face. "But! Enough of an old madman's memories!" he cries, shaking his head. "We've got more important things to do!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Yao supplies, straightening where he stands next to Bumi's right hand. His face suddenly turns stern as he faces Lee, and the crowd of waterbenders behind him. "Lee and a group of his friends broke into the Dai Li stronghold of Lake Laogai, at great risk. Their objective was to gather more intel on the sleeper operation, and neutralize it if possible. The result -"

"We found out that the Dai Li weren't using earthbenders to hypnotize the sleepers," Lee interrupts loudly, stepping forward. "They were using waterbenders. The refugees from the Southern Water Tribe, rescued from the polar wars -"

"Dai Li spies," Yao counters stubbornly, crossing his arms. "How do we know we can trust them?"

Suddenly, Jun's dead body is suddenly all he can see. "They – they lost their bending," he stammers, his heart hammering wildly. "They can't help the Dai Li now, even if they wanted to!"

Yao opens his mouth to argue some more, but Bumi silences him with a wave of his hand. "What do your waterbender friends have to say for themselves?" he asks, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "They're being awfully quiet."

Lee turns around to watch the waterbenders exchanging uncertain looks among themselves. Then Atka steps forward, the grizzled grey of her hair shifting different shades of green in the pulsing light of the glowfly-chandelier. "I am Atka of Sivusiktok," she says in a loud, clear voice, bowing her head respectfully in King Bumi's presence. "Even from the depths of Fire Nation prisons, we heard the tale of your ill-fated rebellion. It is an honour to be in your presence, King Bumi."

"Why, thank you," Bumi sings, his grin widening.

"It has been many years since we were stolen from our home by the Empire," Atka explains, her voice trembling with tightly-controlled emotion. "We were imprisoned in the deepest heart of Fire Nation volcanoes, completely cut off from any water or hope. One of our sisters, Hama, learned how to bend the water inside the human body. She taught us this skill to save our lives." Atka's face crumples haplessly. "She broke free one night, when the moon was full. To show us it could be done. That was the first night since many that we remembered how to hope." Her hands curl into shaking fists with remembered rage. "Not long after, the rest of us followed. We never found Hama, but we found Long Feng. He told us - he told us -"

"He lied to us," Arrluk speaks up, stepping forward to place a hand on Atka's thin shoulder. "He told us that the Empire had seized control of the Earth continent, and that he and the Dai Li were fighting to free it. He told us that he needed us, and if we helped him take back these lands, we could live free among them, safe from the Empire's grasp." His face twists into a scowl, the shadows deepening in the scattered glowfly-light. "So we joined the Dai Li, thinking that we were bending the blood of Empire spies and preparing them for a life of peace. We didn't know that you were fighting for your own freedom, we had no idea that the Dai Li - that we were actually helping the Empire!" He spits on the ground, visibly shaken by the implication. "But Sokka - I mean, Lee or whatever he calls himself now - he showed us the truth. And - and he's right, we lost our bending, so now we're no use to anybody." He hangs his head dejectedly. "Least of all ourselves."

"Hm," Bumi ponders even as sympathy flares in Lee's chest. "You lost your bending, eh?"

"We did," Arrluk admits, shaking his head desperately.

"It's the moon," Atka speaks up fiercely. "Somehow...it's gone."

Bumi plies her with his mad green gaze. "So you feel its loss too?" he asks her bluntly.

"It is the heart and spirit of our waterbending," Atka explains with a grim nod. "How could we not?"

"Wait," Lee interrupts, suddenly feeling very stupid. "What do you mean, the moon's gone? It's a giant rock in the sky, it can't just disappear. That's not possible!"

"Sounds like you need to check again," King Bumi says with maddening simplicity. "It disappeared from the sky the night of the full moon, not ten days ago."

Atka nods again, her pale eyes glimmering mournfully. "That would be around when we lost our bending."

"Now hold on!" Lee exclaims, not believing his ears. "I think everyone must've gone a little too hard on the cactus juice! The moon can't just disappear like that! What - how is that even possible?"

"The Empire," Bumi declares. "They invaded the North Pole and destroyed the moon spirit's mortal body. The North fell to them almost instantly after that!"

A low, distraught buzz swells through the underground lair, rising and falling like the swarm of glowflies trapped in the crystal depths of the elaborate chandelier dangling overhead.

"Such treachery," Atka hisses, recoiling like a wounded creature. "Does the Empire's depravity know no bounds? To destroy the moon itself, just to gain the upper hand in battle -"

"Yes, it's very silly of them," Bumi agrees, straightening the crown on his head. "To dig their own graves so eagerly -"

"Silly?" Arrluk echoes, his face clouding furiously. "What do you mean?"

The brightening light of the glowfly swarm throws Bumi's face into sharp relief. "I mean, we all depend on the moon. All four nations relied on it for balance. But that idiot Zhao went and destroyed it without thinking of the consequences."

"Um," Lee says disbelievingly, "I think he thought about the consequences pretty well, if he erased his enemies' ability to waterbend and coasted to an easy victory after that. How else could he crush the Northern Water Tribe so easily?"

"You think it's just the Northern Tribe he crushed?" Bumi's sudden cackle splits the tense silence gripping the lair. "Think again, boy! Think bigger!"

"I don't understand," Lee whispers into Master Iio's ear as she lets out a gasp, "I think the king's finally lost his marbles."

"Without waterbending, the four elements have gone completely out of balance!" Bumi announces with a toothy grin. "Nature itself is struggling to rebalance them. My earthbending has never been more powerful! Isn't that right, Iio?"

The airbending master nods slowly, her eyes widening. "Yes," she breathes, touching her glider in wonder. "I feel it too, Bumi. My airbending has improved dramatically since the night the full moon vanished."

"But since moonlight is just reflected sunlight, and firebenders rely on the sun..." Bumi's grin widens triumphantly. "Zhao thought he was crippling his enemy, but meddling with the spirits is like handling a two-headed ratviper! I wouldn't be surprised if the lot of them woke up and found their bending much weaker and more difficult to control!" He settles back into his throne with a sigh of satisfaction. "There are going to be a lot of wildfires in that dry, dusty homeland of theirs. I'll bet they'll miss having the waterbenders around then!"

Lee stares blankly at the laughing king, his mind struggling to digest his words. "You're out of your mind, old man," he says numbly at last.

"Ha! Don't believe me? Just wait and watch," Bumi declares, pointing at him with a knobbly finger. "You'll see."

"We have more important matters to consider," Yao interrupts, glowering at the group of waterbenders from his spot next to the king. "They may have lost their bending, but what do you propose we do with these people?"

"Hmm..." Bumi strokes his chin thoughtfully, staring at Atka and the rest of her people with his piercing green eyes. Then, straightening his shoulders decisively, his face grows suddenly stern. "Throw them -"

Yao's face shines with grim anticipation. Lee winces, bracing for the immediate imprisonment of the defected waterbenders.

" - a party!" Bumi finishes, his eyes gleaming wildly in the flickering glowfly-light.

"What?" Yao and Lee chorus disbelievingly.

"A welcome party!" Bumi elaborates, stroking the smooth stone armrests of his throne. "We haven't had a good party in ages! All work and no play makes for a dull bunch around here! Well, Yao, don't just stand around, get to it then -"

Yao groans, clapping a hand to his forehead in despair. He casts one last suspicious glance at the waterbenders before bending a door into the back wall and disappearing through it.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Lee hears Atka say gratefully as the door in the back wall slides shut. "We - we have done some terrible things in the name of freedom. I know it's no excuse, but…" She swallows before meeting Bumi's gaze determinedly, "we will do what we can to help you and your rebellion."

Bumi claps his hands together delightedly. Atka and the rest of the waterbenders drop into a reverent bow. But in the corner of his eye, Lee spots the shadow pass over Suki's face as she looks away, scowling. The smile dies on his lips.

"But speaking of that pesky rebellion," Bumi continues, leaning back in his throne and surveying the rest of the assembly, "how are things going above ground? General How?"

Another stocky, middle-aged earthbender steps forward with a bow. "Your Majesty," General How begins, "we've been getting reports from multiple villages now of a Dai Li retreat -"

"A retreat?" Haru repeats, sounding shocked.

"Yes," General How says impatiently. "It happened rather suddenly. Up until roughly a week ago, the Dai Li were continuing with their plan to consolidate their hold on the continent. They were marching through villages, rounding up their best fighters, stamping out any defiance they encountered with brutal efficiency. But then - all of a sudden, somehow - they encountered resistance."

"What do you mean?" Lee asks disbelievingly. "What kind of resistance?"

"General Hu can explain it better," General How mutters, flushing darkly as dozens of curious eyes settle on him. "She was at the battle of Han Tui and saw it with her own eyes."

A tall, willowy woman in green plate armour scratches her head in bewilderment. "I'm not sure what I saw," General Hu remarks. "All I know was that the Dai Li were doing their usual routine. A group of them showed up and tried to bully us into joining them. We told them to get lost or face the consequences. Then they tried to attack us. There were only a dozen of them and we had them outnumbered. Or so we thought." A dark look flits across General Hu's face as she continues, shivering, "But we reckoned without the sleepers. They defected from our ranks mid-battle and suddenly we were being taken down from the inside!"

Haru curses loudly. "Those sneaky bastards!" he rages, raking his fingers through his long dark hair. "How on earth are we supposed to beat them back if they have their sleepers anywhere and everywhere, ready to turn on us in the blink of an eye?"

Lee closes his eyes, shuddering as he remembers the sinking feeling in his chest, when they had learned of Jun's sudden betrayal. It hadn't been her fault, but the trap had been no less demoralizing.

And that had been the last time he ever saw her alive. His nails dig into his palms, trembling.

"Well...that's just the thing," General Hu stammers, her fingers twisting around each other nervously. "Even with the sleepers switching to the Dai Li's side, the battle dragged on. We fought through the night and into the small hours of the morning. And that's when it happened." She closes her eyes, as though trying to remember. "The sleepers woke up."

"Huh?" Haru asks, echoing the sentiment that Lee privately feels. "What do you mean, they woke up?"

"I mean, they somehow became themselves again," General Hu tries to explain falteringly. "I don't know how else to describe it. They woke up...and became themselves again. They forgot they had ever fought for the Dai Li at all. The brainwashing...whatever it was the Dai Li did to them...suddenly wore off!"

Lee draws a slow, shaky inhale as the implication hits him. "You mean the bloodbending!" he exclaims, whirling around to stare triumphantly at Atka's ashen face. "The Dai Li relied on waterbenders to run their secret sleeper program, deep in Lake Laogai! But…now that the moon is gone -"

"The bloodbending is wearing off," Atka breathes, her eyes widening in shock. "The sleepers, all the innocent people we bloodbent…"

"Without us to recondition them, the false personas fade away!" Arrluk cries, grabbing another waterbender by the hands and spinning her around in his excitement. "No more bloodbending, no more sleepers!"

"It can't just be that," Atka muses, running a hand along the length of her thick braid. "The loss of the moon must have accelerated things, somehow."

"Whatever it was, without the sleepers, the Dai Li's numbers were sorely depleted," General Hu says with a shrug. "It was simple work thereafter to crush them and send them packing."

"This seems to be the case across the entire continent." General How picks up the story after Hu falls silent. "We've heard dozens of reports now of sleepers suddenly waking up and leaving the Dai Li to fend for themselves. The people are fighting back, taking their homes back from those bullies!" He slams a fist into the palm of his hand decisively. "Now the Dai Li are scrambling. Instead of consolidating their hold on the continent, they're trying to regroup, forced to retreat on all sides and fall back to the seats of their power."

"Hm," Bumi muses, his fingers drumming along the armrest of his throne. "They'll fall back to the cities, where it's easier for them to defend and regroup in larger numbers. I'll bet their major strongholds will be Omashu, Gaoling, and of course, Ba Sing Se."

"That's what our scouts are reporting," General How agrees with a sullen nod. "Whatever we can gain in freed villages, we still can't get a hold in those cities. Even without the sleepers, they're too powerful."

"Beating the Dai Li at their own game will be like catching smoke with a net," Bumi pronounces, even as a big grin splits his face. "We're going to have to think very cleverly about this..."

"Your Majesty," Atka speaks up, marching forward. The people in front of her part as she approaches the base of the plateau, before lowering her head. "I know without the moon, my people are effectively powerless now. But we will do whatever we can to help free your lands from those duplicitous viperfoxes."

Bumi laughs, straightening the crown on his head. "We'll be happy to have it!" he declares, before his expression turns suddenly thoughtful. "What a shame about losing the moon, though. There goes our brilliant plan to free the mines on the day of the eclipse."

"I know!" Lee exclaims, suddenly stung. "And after Pakku and I nearly died in that desert in order to get that information, too!" He hangs his head dejectedly. "What a waste."

"Oh well. Keep your eyes on the prize, and something will be bound to turn up sooner or later," Bumi assures him, before waving his head dismissively. "Now, won't somebody do something about all these long faces? There's a welcome party to celebrate! Where did that old grouch Yao go, anyway…?"

It isn't until later in the night, when the impromptu welcome party for the Southern waterbenders was finally starting to wind down, that Lee finally manages to take Arrluk aside.

"Hey," he greets, tilting his head toward the corner of the large underground lair. "Can I talk for a moment?"

"Sure," Arrluk agrees, his speech somewhat thickened by the casks of stolen ale that General Hu had cracked open atop the plateau at the head of the room. "What is it?"

Lee sighs, swirling his untouched ale in his cup. He glances around the room, illuminated by the glowfly-chandelier, now burning brighter than usual as the insects awakened with the fall of night. At Atka and some of the other waterbenders conversing intently with Hu and the other four of Bumi's Generals. At Haru trading stories with Yao, who appeared somewhat less grouchy after a few cups of ale. And at Suki, leaning heavily on her crutch in a far, darkened corner of the room, still wearing her scowl as she glares at the waterbenders and the strange party that had been thrown for them.

"I was just thinking," he says, his heart sinking as he turns back to Arrluk and tries to forget about Suki's dark scowl, "I...I don't really know who I am. Not since you guys messed with my head."

He watches the guilt flit over Arrluk's blunt, dark features before the waterbender hangs his head. "Oh," he says bluntly. "I see."

"The thing is," Lee continues, thinking of his unusual dream from earlier that day with a pounidng of his heart, "sometimes...I think I'm starting to remember. Sometimes, you'll say something or I'll think of something, and it - it just feels right. Do you know what I mean?"

But Arrluk only shakes his head mournfully. "No," he answers somberly. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Oh." Lee slumps, before taking a sip of his ale and wincing. The taste was warm and flat in his mouth and he struggles to swallow before continuing, "It's just...this is all so confusing and I was really hoping you could help me out." Arrluk stares at him blankly with his pale blue eyes, prompting him to elaborate further. "I mean...you guys were the ones who made me forget who I really was. I was hoping...maybe you could reverse it somehow?"

"You know I can't," Arrluk tells him gently, and Lee can barely stomach the sympathy radiating from him. "Without the moon - without my bending -"

"You can't undo it," Lee finishes, feeling like the inside of his chest was plummeting to his feet. "It's pretty much permanent now. I thought as much." He turns away hurriedly, taking another quick swig of his warm, flat ale. "Thanks anyway -"

"Wait." Arrluk's voice stops him in his tracks. "Don't be so sure about that. After all, what we did was a quick manipulation of the blood. It was never meant to last."

Lee's breath hitches in his throat. "So - so you mean...what you did, it -" He peers curiously at Arrluk over his shoulder, "- it could wear off?"

"It probably already is," Arrluk points out, setting his empty cup down. "Look, I can't tell you how long it'll take, but you'll begin to remember soon enough."

"I will?" Lee stammers in disbelief. "You're sure?"

"Of course," Arrluk says, and a strange sense of overwhelming familiarity overwhelms him as the waterbender smiles at him with his blue eyes. "You always do."

Apart from the small rustling sounds of the rats scurrying into the corners, Zuko's prison cell is silent as the grave.

He shivers in the dampness that permeates the stone walls, his threadbare uniform scarcely enough to ward off the penetrating chill. The iron bars are cold to the touch, wet with condensing moisture that sit in his aching bones. The narrow slitted window is his only source of light, cut into the section of wall just beyond the iron bars. Each morning, the weak sunlight stretches across his curled body before shrinking into the shadows in the corner of his cell.

By now, he has memorized every last inch of it. His quarters are cramped, maybe a dozen paces deep and twice as wide. The ceiling hangs low above his head, its rough stone dragging against his freshly shaved scalp if he rose too quickly. A pallet of dirty straw in one corner to serve for a bed, a pail for him to relieve himself that was changed twice a day, or whenever the guards bothered to remember. The slot at the bottom of the metal bars, through which the guards slide his meagre meal on a tray. The loose blocks of stone at the base of the walls, through which the rats snuck in to sneak the last crumbs of his food and hide in the straw, sharing his search for warmth.

Zuko tries not to shiver as the persistent drafts tickle the back of his neck. He runs a hand absently along it, the feeling of the skin strange indeed - exposed and prickly from where his hair had been contemptuously shorn off by his sister, in front of his father and everyone else in his shadow council. It was meant to be humiliating, he understands with a memory of anger churning away somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Fire Nation men grew their hair as a symbol of honour and lineage. For Azula to shave him in front of the Empire's nobility the way she had...it was as though she had openly robbed him of both before tossing him into the capital's prison like some common criminal.

His fingers trail along the curve of his scalp, feeling the short stubbly hair with an unsettled feeling. He had never appreciated the comforting warmth of his hair, or missed it more than now, when he knelt hunched over in his cell, feeling like a distinctly alien incarnation of himself - shrunken, bald, cold…and never more exposed and vulnerable.

Then, the telltale screech of the bar locking his cell from the outside, before the heavy door swings open. He squints, shielding his eyes from the sudden light pouring in from the torch-lit corridor, and the silhouette of his mother in her royal robes looming in the doorway.

His teeth clench together but he says nothing as she picks her way inside, kneeling across from him with only the metal bars separating them.

"Here." His mother's voice is soft as she withdraws something small from her sleeve with a shaking hand. "Don't make a scene this time, Zuko."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Acid drips from his voice as he plies her with a contemptuous glare. "I wouldn't want to embarrass you for trying to poison your son again, Mother."

She makes a frustrated, helpless sound like a trapped creature, and it only makes his anger flare hotter, warming his cold body through with its sudden heat. He focuses on the feeling of it, rushing through his veins, sparking the dormant pool of energy in his stomach the way Uncle's meditations from so long ago had.

"It's not poison," Ursa pleads, sliding the small vial through a gap in the metal bars. "Please, Zuko, just cooperate this once, this one thing, or he won't let me visit anymore -"

"What a punishment!" Zuko cuts her off sarcastically, smacking the vial over onto its side with the back of his hand. "You don't get to feed your only son bending suppressants with your own hands anymore. How you must suffer."

"It was either this or poison, Zuko," his mother tells him in a low, serious voice. Her hands close around the metal bars as she stares at him pleadingly. "And not one as kind or humane as the sunshade."

He growls, before snatching the fallen vial off the ground and unscrewing its cap. "Fine," he growls, before raising it to her face with a mocking toast. "To your long life, Mother." Closing his eyes, he flings its contents into his mouth and swallows hard, shuddering as the potion burns a trail into his stomach and the paths of chi throughout his body fizz out like dying embers. "Since I've forfeited mine."

"You chose to stand against him," Ursa whispers mournfully, her face blanching sickly pale. "You knew the consequences of being captured by Zhao, and you still did it."

"I suppose this is the part where you tell me I brought this upon myself," he snaps at her viciously. "Where you say I should have put my head down and skulked like a coward. Like you."

"No, Zuko." Ursa's golden eyes glimmer like the torchlight pouring in from the corridor outside. "You did what you thought was right, even though it meant choosing the harder path. You could have given in to your father, the way I did, but you've proved once again that you're made of sterner stuff." She lowers her head, hiding the tears that trail down her face. "I don't know where you got it from, but it certainly wasn't from me."

"No," he agrees, exhaling harshly and missing his breath of fire, its absence nearly as jarring as the uneven stubble lining his shaved head. "I would never lie back and allow Father to get away with everything he's doing."

"No," she says maddeningly, her fingers tightening into the red silk of her royal robes. "And that's why you must live, Zuko. You must endure, you must survive to fight another day."

He laughs darkly. "You should hear yourself, Mother. You sound as crazy as Father said you were." He twirls the empty glass vial through his fingers. "I'm trapped in prison, waiting for a day to die, with my own mother feeding me bending suppressants. How exactly do you propose I fight another day?"

Ursa raises her head to gaze at him solemnly. "I don't know. But you're the only one, Zuko - you're the only one brave enough to stand up to him! If you can't find a way -"

"I can't," he tells her bluntly, before sliding the vial back at her scornfully. "Thanks for the refreshment."

Ursa swallows her retort, before nodding shortly and rising to her feet. "Zuko...I can't - I'm sorry -"

"Just go," he interrupts her, the potion making him far too exhausted to bear her empty apologies or her hand-wringing presence.

He hears her sigh again, a frustrated, helpless sound, before the door slides shut again, blocking out the blinding glimmer of torchlight from outside and plunging his cell back into shadows.

Growling under his breath, he falls back into the pile of straw, gasping as the waves of exhaustion batter at him. The ground seems to sway under his feet, unsteady like a raft struggling along the sea at storm. Even the protesting squeaks of the rats fleeing into the corners sound too loud. Weakly, he raises his head to glare at them, but they glower back at him, their faces lean and hardened from hunger.

"Right," he scoffs to himself, collapsing back into the scratchy straw. "I can't even win a staring contest against some rats! And she expects me to put up a fight against my father?"

Then, to his alarm, a voice speaks out of the darkness, jolting him back upright at once.

"Talking to yourself, Zuko?" He gasps in shock as something steps out of the shadowed corner to stand by the narrow slitted window. "It's not a good look on you."

He blinks, wondering if the sunshade potion was making him hallucinate as well, as the thin beam of dying sunlight streaming through the window illuminates Mai's impassive features as she tucks her hands into her trailing sleeves. Then she tilts her head and gives him a sardonic smile. "Don't feel obligated to say hello or be polite to your visitor, now."

"Mai," he stammers, clambering to his feet even as the world sways unsteadily. "What - what are you doing here? How did you get inside? I didn't even hear you!"

"Good," she replies, stepping out of the moonlight so that he can only see her shadowed outline waiting behind the bars. "Guess I can still do something right."

He sighs. "At least one of us still can."

Mai snorts. "I never pegged you as the self-pitying type."

Zuko raises an eyebrow. "Have you met me?" he asks dryly.

"Good point," Mai allows, the small smile still plain in her voice.

He struggles to find his breath, the waves of dizziness pounding at him until he has to clutch at the metal bars, leaning on them for support. "How long have you been here, anyway?"

"Long enough," she answers primly, before swallowing hard. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's crazy over here."

He stares at her blankly as she shifts her weight uncomfortably. "Your father's rule is a mess. All he cares about is defeating your uncle and burning the rest of the world to the ground!"

"And how exactly is this news?" Zuko grits out, squeezing his eyes shut as the spinning sensation in his head worsens.

"At least before, when the Imperial Court was still in place, there was a semblance of order!" Mai hisses, glancing around her as though nervous to be overheard. "But your father's put one bloodthirsty, ambitious monster after another in charge, and he doesn't care one bit!" Her voice lowers urgently. "Now we have hungry people, angry people, all rioting in the streets, and what does your father do? He unleashes the Imperial Guard on them to mow them down, and puts their bodies on display! He claims it's to intimidate the people from lashing out, but in reality, it's just angering them even more!"

Zuko frowns at her, his fingers tightening around the cold iron bars. "Since when have you cared about politics?" he asks incredulously. "I thought you hated it. I thought it bored you."

"It does!" she explodes. "You think I want to care about any of this? I don't! I hate caring, I hate all of this. I just want to run off and throw shiny things at people and forget any of this ever happened!"

"Sounds nice," he grunts. "But it's a little too late for that."

"I noticed," she counters acidly. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"I don't know. Why are you here?"

"Because," Mai breathes, now reaching for the bars and leaning toward him conspiratorially, "because your mother was right about one thing, Zuko. Like it or not, you're the only person who can fix this -"

He bursts out laughing at that. "Me? What can I do?" he demands. "I have nothing, Mai. This is the end of the line for me. I gave up everything to save my friends, and now there's nothing left for me except waiting for the day my father and Azula decide to finish me off for good."

"That won't be for a while," Mai tells him somberly.

His legs buckle beneath him and he slides down, grabbing at the bars to hold himself upright in a half-kneeling position. "What do you mean?"

"I heard Azula talking about it. You and your uncle are popular among the people, and the last thing she wants is to make a martyr out of you." Even in the darkness, he sees the mirthless smile stretching across her lips. "So for now, she wants you locked up and powerless - out of sight and out of mind...but still very much alive." She pauses to take a shaking breath. "At least until things calm down. Or your uncle gets captured. Whichever comes first."

He staggers backward, falling back to sit in the pile of straw. The world whirls around him unsettlingly.

"You may be living on borrowed time, but you still have time," Mai continues. "So what are you going to do about it? Lie in here feeling sorry for yourself...or actually take a stand and fight back against your father?"

He scoffs again disbelievingly. "First my mother, now you. Am I the only one who hasn't completely lost their mind? What do you even want from me?"

"A little bit of courage, for a start!" Mai fires back. He catches the challenging tilt of her chin as she stares down at him. "What would that waterbender do if she was in your place? Do you think she'd cower in her cell meekly, waiting for the end?"

"No," he admits quietly. In spite of everything, he lets out a small smile at the thought of Katara, hissing and spitting and defiant to the last, even as she was surrounded and outnumbered by Hahn's men in the plains outside the city. Even when unsure of her place in the world, she had always faced her foes with her head held high. "She'd have found some way to resist. Hell, even without her bending, she's probably still fighting back right now." He groans loudly, before throwing his hands up in surrender, steeling his resolve. "Fine. But even if I have more time than I think, what can I do?"

"You saw what happened today. The guards broke up that protest and claimed to have captured one of its ringleaders -"

"A kid," Zuko interrupts, thinking of the young boy being dragged away from his father's hall, his pitiful screams for mercy falling on deaf ears. Of the masked people leading the protest, who had disappeared like smoke at the first sign of the imperial firebenders. "He's innocent."

"Of course he is! But your father's council needs to pin it on someone! Even if he was obviously in the wrong place at the wrong time." Mai's hands close around the iron bars and he glances up at her grim face. "Unlike you, his fate is set. He'll probably end up like the others - just another body to decorate the palace gates."

Zuko breathes very carefully, the world finally seeming to settle around him. "Where are they holding him?"

"In this very same prison," Mai answers carefully. "On the third floor - three levels down from here."

"I see." His mind whirls through the possibilities, and for the first time he wonders if the potion his mother gave him had completely addled his senses. "And if this boy - this prisoner - was to somehow miraculously escape...what would my father's men do then?"

"My guess?" Mai taps at her chin thoughtfully. "I'd say it would put a few people in serious hot water. The warden, the captain of the Imperial Guard, the internal minister..." She ticks them off on her fingers as she recites them. "They're all dreadfully incompetent. But your father favours them, so they're here to stay."

"The Captain of the Guard," Zuko says, trying to remember. "Who is it now?"

"Asaka," Mai replies with a vehemence that surprises him. "The Butcher of Blood Bay, the people call him."

"One of Zhao's proteges," he remembers. "It's no surprise that he shares his love for savagery."

"And your father's favour," Mai supplies, her face darkening. "Even if this prisoner were to mysteriously disappear, I doubt he would suffer much."

"But the Interior Minister," Zuko points out, thinking hard. "Is it still Qin?"

"No, he's been shuffled off into the war portfolio," Mai replies. "It used to be Fukio, but they dismissed him after the harbourfire riots. Your father allowed Zhao to pick the new minister, as a reward for his victory at the North Pole. Some guy called Shuren."

Zuko rolls his eyes. "Another stooge," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is Father's council composed entirely lackeys and sycophants?"

"You saw for yourself what it was like," Mai reminds him. "Even Azula is frustrated by it -"

Zuko raises an eyebrow as Mai falls suddenly silent. "It's all very compelling," he says, pushing up to his feet. "But you forget one simple, important thing." His hands curl around the solid metal bars again. "How am I supposed to do anything if I'm stuck in here?"

Mai shakes her head as though she found him slow-witted. "Oh Zuko," she chides him softly, "didn't you learn anything from me?"

With a swift, practiced motion, she plucks something out of her sleeve. The wisp of distant torchlight dances off the thin flexible blade as she twists it into shape and jams it into the padlock bolting the iron bars in place. His heart pounds faster, racing with sudden adrenaline as a small click echoes throughout the small cell.

She tosses the small blade at him. He catches it numbly as she swings the door open a crack. "Don't say I never looked out for you," she quips sardonically. "By the way, I think you might need these."

Mai pushes a small bundle at him and he unrolls it with trembling fingers. He swallows carefully as he unwraps the layers of black clothing to reveal the laughing blue mask, plucked carelessly from the mantel in his old bedroom.

A lifetime ago, he had all the power his father had gifted him and felt trapped by it, unable to lift a finger against him. Now, even though he had been stripped of all titles and humiliated in front of his father's council, he realizes grimly that it was here, in the bowels of the Fire Nation capital's prison, that he had finally had the freedom to take matters into his own hands.

All he needed was the courage.

He swallows hard, making his decision in a split second. The mask seems to stare right through him with its empty eye sockets, daring him to meet its silent challenge.