A/N: Okay, so I know I said earlier that this story would be around 20 chapters. But it's now looking like it will be more like 22 or 23. (Maybe more if I get too long-winded, haha—but I hope not.)
Also, I apologize for uploading on a Thursday instead of Tuesday. I just didn't have this ready by Tuesday, but I didn't want to make everyone wait yet another week. As for chapter 20—I won't be able to update for the next two weeks. I'm sorry for the long wait, but don't worry; I will always continue. My awesome beta, FlameoHotwife, and I are working hard, but want to do this justice. We are getting close to the end now, friends!
In solace, I offer you this HUGE chapter! It's almost double the length of most other chapters. Hope you enjoy!
….
Katara's head snapped towards the barred window above the desk in her cell. She could have sworn she'd heard something. She cocked her head and listened carefully.
It was still fairly early in the evening, and with the summer days lengthening, full darkness would not envelop Caldera City for another several hours. However, with the high walls surrounding the small courtyard outside her window, Katara's room was already beginning to dim.
Katara sat at the desk where she'd been pretending to reread one of the scrolls Aang had lent her all those weeks ago—she'd been remembering back to when she'd seen him as only "the Avatar." She could hardly fathom now how much her feelings had changed since then; it felt as though it had been another lifetime.
She'd been fingering the scroll's paper in her hands. She had not been reading; since she'd been unable to concentrate enough to do much more than stare at the wall.
Aang's marriage ceremony had begun the day before with meditations and prayers to Agni. Katara had heard the horns and chants of the Fire Sages' procession through the city at sunrise the previous morning and had been unable to resurface from a swirling mixture of despair, regret, and heartache since then. She knew from overheard conversations among the guards that tonight would be a gala celebration attended by all the Fire Nation nobility. Tomorrow morning the marriage would be official.
She had lost him. And she had failed him. And yet she yearned for him still.
The day had been hot and still, and Katara was on edge. A rustling of leaves in the maple outside her window had pulled her from her thoughts, making her freeze on alert.
She heard another sound. If she hadn't been so alert, she almost certainly would have missed the gentle whoosh of wind, then the low ache of a branch bending in the maple.
Katara waited, her mouth becoming inexplicably dry. It couldn't be…
"Katara?" Aang's soft voice floated in through her window.
Even having somehow already sensed he was there, Katara could hardly believe her ears. Surely her own yearning was playing a cruel trick on her?
"Katara? Are you there?" Aang's voice repeated.
Longing clogged her throat—he really was here! Katara had to swallow her emotion down before her voice could reply.
"Aang? Is that you?"
A long pause. A shifting of leaves.
"Yeah. It's me."
Katara glanced quickly at the door of her cell; she was grateful that she'd once again been allowed to close the inner wooden door that afforded her some privacy. She scrambled onto the desk and gripped the bars of her window, straining to see him.
Aang was there, sitting on his heels, his feet balanced on a branch that looked a tad too slim to support a grown man's weight. He perched to the side in the shadows of the tree, his hair down and his back facing towards the wall of her cell. Katara had to put her face right up against the bars in order to barely see his profile. He didn't look at her.
"Aang," she said quietly, disbelief and hope battling insider her. "You're here."
Aang nodded, keeping his eyes straight ahead out into the courtyard, his elbows resting on his knees. The branch he perched on swayed gently, but he paid it no heed, riding the sway as naturally and easily as a leaf in the wind.
"I, um… well I can't stay," Aang said. "I have to get ready, for the, uh, the…"
The wedding, Katara's mind unwillingly supplied.
Aang's sentence trailed off unfinished, as though saying the words hurt him. Empathy expanded within Katara. As much as her heart sorrowed for herself, knowing that the man she loved was getting married to someone else, her heart genuinely broke in two for Aang, knowing that he was marrying against his wishes.
Aang started again. "Yesterday was, um… a day of prayer, and I've just been thinking… I wanted to talk with you… before…." He looked down at his feet. His voice was even softer when he began haltingly again, "I just didn't want to… leave things… the way I'd left them, with you…"
Katara felt her chin tremble. Aang wasn't looking at her, but he wasn't wearing his mask of indifference either; his posture and expressions open like they used to be with her. "I'm glad you came, Aang." Her voice shook.
Aang let out a shaky sigh. "I'm sorry about what happened at the beach. I didn't control myself. I'm afraid that I hurt you."
Her heart contacted.
"I don't want to… hurt you." Aang continued, looking down; he ran a hand into his hair, pushing it back from his face. Katara knew there was more than one meaning behind his words.
"I don't want to—I never wanted—to hurt you either, Aang." Katara said softly. She glanced down at her own hands clutching to the bars as she spoke the next words quietly. "But I know that I have."
Aang stiffened. Alert and perched on the branch, he looked like a bird ready to take flight at any moment. The last thing Katara wanted to do was scare him off—not when she'd been granted this gift of talking with him one last time—so she chose her words cautiously.
"What happened at the arena, with the darts—"
Aang shifted and for a moment Katara panicked, worried that he would leave.
"Please, Aang, hear me out!" she begged quickly.
He stilled, listening.
"I need you to understand, I couldn't have left with you! My brother is here in the Fire Nation, and if I left, Zhao would have hurt him."
"Your brother?" Aang's voice held surprise.
"Yes. My brother is…" For a moment Katara hesitated, debating whether or not to tell Aang that Sokka, the man who had given him the note for her, was her brother. Zhao had said that he'd kept that information confidential. Would it be wise to tell Aang? To let another Fire Nation noble know of their connection? Katara bit her lip. She trusted Aang, she really did; she never believed that he would knowingly cause harm to her or her brother. But he was about to marry Princess Azula, and the idea of the princess somehow finding out about Sokka was more than terrifying. So Katara decided to keep that information to herself, deciding it was safer for everyone.
"My brother is… not safe here," she finally finished. "They would have killed him if I'd gone with you, Aang."
Aang sat there quietly, digesting this new information; Katara could see from his profile that his brow furrowed in thought. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I never meant… I mean, I didn't want to hurt you…"
Katara could feel her blood pounding, her heart in her chest beating like a great drum. Did he believe her? Could he forgive her?
"Thank you for telling me," Aang finally responded, his voice so low she barely heard him.
A thousand thoughts all clamored for purchase in her mind, but they were all jammed behind one, all-important thought, one that pushed it's way to her mouth before she could stop it. "I want you to know that I didn't lie to you, Aang."
Aang began to shake his head, and he stood up on the branch warily as though preparing to fly away. "Listen, Katara, if this is more about what you said at the beach, I can't—"
"I mean that I never lied about loving you!" she burst out. Immediately a deep blush rose to her face, but she continued anyway, her voice softer, "I do love you."
Aang stood still, the branch beneath him moving while he himself was a statue. He was still, but Katara sensed that he expended great effort to remain so, like he was battling something within himself. The way he pointedly avoided her eye was a seeming act of sheer will.
At last he let out a sigh and his body deflated in resignation.
"I have to go," Aang said, his gaze directed once again down at his hands. In his profile Katara could see his Adam's apple bob. "They'll be looking for me…"
Katara said nothing. What could she say? She ached so badly for him to stay, but she knew that this stolen moment to see her was more than she could have asked for. She wished for things to be different. For things to be as they had once been between them: moments filled with laughter and joy and affection. Her love for Aang was still very much alive, beating loudly in her chest, longing for him.
But things had changed. And would change in a new way permanently by tomorrow.
Aang tilted his face upward towards the darkening sky. His eyes slid shut, as if doing so could block out the realities in front of him.
"I loved you too," he said at last, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words heavy with meaning.
And then he was gone. Leaving nothing but the empty branch left shuddering where he'd just been.
Katara watched the empty branch with sinking finality, the past tense of his words echoing endlessly in her ears.
…..
Princess Azula glanced to where Aang knelt in the kang beside her.
Traditionally, a kang was an essential piece of furnishing in all Fire Nation households. It was a large, raised wooden platform. In most households in the daytime, a small tea-table could be placed atop the kang, providing a place to eat or drink. In winter months, the heat from a cooking stove would be funneled underneath the kang, making it a warm place to carry out one's activities for the day.
But in its most basic use, a kang was a bed. Azula smirked at the Fire Nation's tradition of displaying the prospective bride and groom on a bed for all to see. Subtle, she thought sarcastically. The practice seemed borderline vulgar. But, she mused, she supposed she could forgive a tradition that dated back a thousand years.
This kang was old. Azula didn't know how old, but as her eyes assessed the handiwork of the ornately designed four posts leading up to the fine lattice-carved canopy above them, she estimated that this one likely had been in the royal family for more than ten generations. The workmanship was fine, the piece clearly well made. Nowadays it was reserved only for royal weddings.
Azula and Aang knelt together on the kang on top of a raised dais at the head of the palace's most extravagant dining hall. A semi-transparent red silk cloth draped down from the top of the canopy, giving the celebration attendees a glimpse of the betrothed couple, while still shielding the two of them from open gawking. It gave the illusion of privacy, while still displaying the bride and groom as ornaments for all to see.
Azula glanced again at Aang. He knelt silently, his hands tucked into the large, over-long sleeves of his heavy groom's robes, his back straight so that the double-points at his shoulders faced upward. The front of his hair was half-up in a topknot adorned with a gleaming golden fire flame, the rest of his black hair was left hanging down to just past his shoulders. Azula blushed at how handsome he looked. If it weren't for the blue tattooed arrow on his forehead, he would have looked a perfect portrait of what a Fire Nation Prince ought to be: powerful, handsome, stoic, and strong.
Azula glanced away, flustered by the way Aang unsettled her. The feeling wasn't unpleasant. It just left Azula feeling as though she was spinning, as though she weren't in control. But not being in control was unacceptable.
To divert herself from these nervous feelings, Azula spoke cynically to Aang. "Look at all of them out there, eating extravagantly on our behalf, while we sit here starved and on display."
Aang gave her no response. The sullenness in his eyes irritated her.
"I ordered several vegetarian dishes to be served in the banquet tonight in your behalf, Aang," Azula said magnanimously. Aang said nothing. Which irritated Azula—after all she had been thinking of him when she approved the menu! His silence bothered her. Azula heard herself prattle on, in an effort to get him to respond. "Who knew we would spend the whole party kneeling here instead of getting to partake? But no need to worry, I'm sure there will still be plenty of your food left over when the celebration ends; steamed tofu and fried greens are never the sought-after items in a lavish banquet."
"Thank you, Azula," Aang said formally, his eyes still staring unfocussed straight ahead of him. "I appreciate your consideration."
The detachment and formality of Aang's reply annoyed Azula. This was their wedding celebration! He ought to be happy!
She tried more conversation; desperate for Aang to emerge from his funk.
"This wedding celebration is grander than Father's was, you know," Azula said smugly, for some reason feeling the need to fill the silence between them. "The guest list is twice as long. The food budget alone exceeds the combined yearly wages of Father's entire advisory counsel."
Aang said nothing.
"I hear the entertainment hired for the evening is unparalleled. Musicians, acrobats, even the finest acting troupe in the Fire Nation was brought in—should be quite the pageantry!"
Azula didn't know why she kept talking. But she couldn't seem to stop herself. "And for the first time ever, the Fire Nation's most renowned swordsman, Master Piandao, has allowed for his private collection of weapons to be put on display here in the palace for our wedding. He's never allowed his private collection out of his own estate before now." For a moment Azula considered how ecstatic Mai would have been to see Master Piandao's weapons collection—ecstatic enough to perhaps even smile—but Azula intentionally willed her mind away from lingering on her traitorous friend.
A small, disinterested nod from Aang was all the response she got.
"The last time a royal wedding expended this lavishly was for my Uncle Iroh's. Grandfather always favored my uncle," the resentful tenor in Azula's voice mimicked that of her father's whenever Ozai spoke of his elder brother.
"But I dare say, our wedding has elicited more excitement than my uncle's ever did. The people are thrilled for us, Aang. Delighted that they have a strong and cunning Crown Princess to one day assume the throne; and that the Avatar will rule at her side. We are everything they could ask for and more!"
Azula wanted him to turn to her, his eyebrow arching in shared triumph at their union. She wanted him to shine upon her that signature, infuriatingly beautiful smile of his. But again, Aang said nothing. He didn't even turn her way.
Azula wanted to shake him, to demand that he look at her and that he be happy for this! Happy for her, happy for them! Why was he so sullen?!
An unbidden worry slithered into her thoughts; worry that Aang was thinking about the waterbender. Worry that he wished it was Master Katara kneeling beside him about to become his wife, instead of her. Azula was never jealous; since she was always the best, she rarely encountered situations where she would have anything to be jealous of. And yet here she was, jealous and paranoid about Aang's possible continued feelings for that wretched peasant! It filled Azula's gut with fury!
Suddenly Azula had to fight the urge to reach over right now and grab Aang's strong jaw and kiss him obscenely. To remind him of who he was with and who he wasn't with! She would force that waterbender from his mind! She would!
Internally, Azula laughed manically at the image of herself tackling Aang on this very public bed! Tackling him and kissing him passionately—what a scene that would make at this stuffy, formal event!
Aang finally turned her way, giving her a concerned look. It was then that Azula realized she was laughing—cackling, in fact—right out loud! Quickly, she stopped herself. Embarrassed and confused. She had thought it had all been in her head—how could she have let her demeanor slip like that?! Azula's disquiet compounded ten-fold.
"Azula?" Aang asked quietly. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm okay!" she snapped. "I'm just… tired of being in this… fishbowl on display!"
She could feel his eyes on her, causing heat to rush to her face. That flustered feeling was back with a vengeance, so much so, she couldn't look at him.
This was weakness. And weakness wasn't allowed.
So Azula took a fortifying breath and then looked at Aang squarely.
His grey eyes looked nearly black in the subdued light inside the kang. Aang cared for her. Azula could see it right there, plainly in his face.
Aang removed his hand from his other sleeve and, after a slight hesitation, took her hand in his. "It will be okay, Azula."
His touch felt like the electric sizzle before the release of lighting, the effect of it seeming to turn her emotions inside out.
The consideration in Aang's face as he looked at her made Azula's breath stutter. But still his eyes lacked the passion that she had once seen reflected in them for that waterbender.
So it wasn't enough. Azula wanted his passion! And she would have it one day!
Aang gave her hand a final, measured squeeze and then, too soon, took his hand back and put it back into his sleeve. Azula hungered for his touch again!
But no matter. There would be more time for that—that and more—later. Azula smiled but also swallowed nervously at the thought. She fidgeted. She felt hot. Suddenly continuing to kneel in this position felt intolerable.
She couldn't stay in here. Not with him. The tension was killing her.
"Come on," Azula commanded as she freed her hands from her long sleeves and lifted the heavy skirt of her wedding gown. The dangling adornments in her hair clinked as she stood up from her knees. "This celebration is for us after all. Let's go and join the party."
…
Aang felt heavier every minute that his wedding celebrations wore on. And surprisingly little of that weight had anything to do with the increasing quantity of gold jewelry being draped around his neck.
Jewelry was the traditional wedding gift given at Fire Nation weddings. Draping the bride and groom in gold and jewels was a guest's way of wishing the new couple well; if their offering was ostentatious and valuable enough, it might also win them some favor with the Royal Family.
Aang glanced at Azula, who had even more jewelry gleaming at her neck than him. Aang was sure that if it weren't for Azula's strength and impeccable decorum, any other woman of her stature would have buckled under the weight of so many heavily jeweled chains and necklaces. But Azula, being Azula, looked unfazed, her back and shoulders as straight and proud as ever.
When Aang had first followed Azula out of the confinement of the kang, Director Ao'nao, the Chief Director of Imperial Banqueting, had intercepted them immediately.
"What are you doing?!" the director had asked anxiously, his voice hissing in a hushed panic. "Tradition demands that you two remain in the kang until after the banquet! For you two to exit now is a tremendous breach in protocol!"
Princess Azula's golden eyes had flared upon the round little man, causing Director Ao'nao to retreat a step back as though he'd been burned. She lifted her chin but pointedly looked away from the man.
"The Avatar and I won't be spending another moment in that thing. If someone must be on display, then by all means, feel free to climb in and make yourself a mockery."
Azula had then wrapped her hand around Aang's arm and led him past the squat wedding coordinator without a backwards glance. Aang had shrugged apologetically at Director Ao'nao, but nonetheless followed where Azula led.
The two of them had received some surprised, if not even scandalized, glances from some of the older guests as they joined the banquet. But Azula had held her head loftily, challenging anyone to contradict her actions.
Of course, no one did.
Because Azula always got what she wanted.
The princess had ordered food to be brought for them, and a table to be set at the head of the room. Director Ao'nao had fussed and clucked to those around him and accommodated the princess's wishes with speedy precision.
But now the banquet was over, and the guests had all been ushered into an ornate, adjoining ballroom. Fire acrobats performed at one end of the room, while the guests mingled and chatted, drinking their fire sake through skinny, over-tall goblets.
Tonight would be a huge celebration: a lavish party, full of sumptuous feasting, entertainment, and all the typical political jockeying and schmoozing that would be expected anywhere this many nobles were allowed into close proximity with royalty.
Aang had never been allowed to mingle at a large gathering like this before. He was a naturally outgoing person, and he liked people, so under other circumstances, he likely would have enjoyed himself. But his own wedding brought him no joy. And the anxiety that he might unintentionally make a mistake or breach some unknown protocol plagued him. So he stayed close by Azula, trying to follow her lead, and ignore his own sinking dread.
Fire Nation wedding celebrations were generally held the night before the official marriage ceremony—except in this case there was the boring addition of a sacred parade and a whole day of prayer. Given that the Azula was destined to one day become "Agni's Chosen," the Sages played a much bigger role.
Aang had been to a Fire Nation wedding once before, long ago when he'd been a small child. Often, in the more raucous and rural areas, the party would go all night long, culminating with the wedding being performed at sunrise, so that when Agni first rose he could shine down his blessings upon the union of the new couple.
Aang and Azula's royal wedding was not scheduled to last all night, as the official marriage ceremony in the morning was to be a grand and official affair. But the party would still go late.
Too bad for Aang, since he was already anxious to leave.
Aang remembered the wedding from so long ago being lively and fun, full of delicious smells and spicy food, lots of dancing and music. He had fallen asleep before the morning ceremony, and woken up with his head in Gyatso's lap, the wind and his mentor's hand caressing his round cheeks as they flew away on the back of Pella, Gyatso's sky bison.
Thus far this party had not been nearly as much fun as the one from his memory. Too many stuffy nobles and rules of decorum.
Not to mention that he was the groom, marrying a bride he didn't love.
Aang sighed in miserable resignation.
Another couple approached, with another necklace. Aang stifled a yawn as he bowed once again to receive their gift of gold around his neck. Reflexively he glanced up to where the Firelord sat, worried that Ozai would notice his rudeness.
Firelord Ozai had not attended the feast earlier in the evening. But he was here now, sitting high up on a single-occupancy balcony. Ozai sat regally with two large standing torches blazing beside him as he overlooked them all like a god. Unapproachable. Set apart. Agni's Chosen.
Knowing that Ozai was watching made Aang uneasy, worried that he would unknowingly disappoint the man he'd been taught to call 'Father.' Aang was grateful for the long sleeves of his groom's robes that kept him from unconsciously rubbing at his forearms, a habit that he knew irritated the Firelord.
Azula and Aang stood together on a raised rounded platform. A handful of guards and an ever vigilant Director Ao'nao providing the couple with a wide berth of space from the crowd of milling wedding guest. One or two at a time, the guests were formally introduced and allowed to approach them, to bestow their traditional gifts of jewelry. Most guests used this moment with the royal couple to vie for favor or, at the very least, to make an impression upon the soon-to-be-married Crown Princess and Avatar.
Director Ao'nao's parameter kept the curious, ambitious and calculating guests at bay, lest the bride and groom be mobbed. But even so Aang could still feel their eyes pass over him greedily. This was Aang's first appearance at a social function this public. Most attendees had never laid eyes on the Avatar before.
"Ah so we're finally allowed a glimpse of the famous Avatar!" one large man who smelled strongly of sake exclaimed loudly as he placed another gold chain over Aang's head. "The Firelord has kept you closed up so tightly, few of us scarcely believed you were real!"
Aang wasn't quite sure how to respond.
"And now we know why, eh?" the big man said to Aang conspiratorially. "Afraid with your good looks that you'd be snatched away by some other pretty fire girl before the Firelord had a chance to get you into his own daughter's bed!" The man laughed loudly and turned his red face to Azula. "Hope you've got some good rope, Princess. You'll need to tie this one down tight, or he's sure to bend more backs than elements!" His boisterous laugh echoed all throughout the hall.
"You forget yourself, General," Azula's voice cut in sharply. "Too much drink has made your tongue loose." Azula jerked her head and Director Ao'nao promptly escorted the loud man away.
Azula huffed and Aang blushed.
Aang remembered the grown-ups at the wedding he'd attended as a child joking together. And Gyatso had laughed along with them. But Aang hadn't understood.
"The jokes go over your head, young one," his mentor had said. "You do not catch them yet."
"But I can jump so high!" Aang had said enthusiastically, lifting both of his chubby hands above his head to show Gyatso how high. "I can jump so high that nothing can go over my head!"
Gyatso had laughed merrily. "You cannot jump for these, my little one. But I am sure that one day you will be tall enough to catch all the jokes." Amusement had twinkled in his eye as he'd stroked Aang's shaved head affectionately.
Aang stood uncomfortably next to Azula, wishing that he were still not 'tall' enough to understand.
"Who was that, again?" Aang asked.
"General Akoza," Azula answered. "He's served in the army for over thirty years. Although he has a mouth like a sailor," she added disdainfully.
"Another General?" Aang asked. "Seems like every other person we meet here is in the military."
"Military might is an important part of every thriving nation," Azula replied assertively.
"It wasn't in mine."
Azula's eye's narrowed, her lips pursing as though she was physically biting her tongue. Aang wondered what it was that she was choosing not to say. At long last, she simply replied, "Well, it is now."
Was it?
Aang looked down, bothered.
For so long he had only focused on the task ahead of him: master the elements—Fire, then Earth, then Water. Meditate with the Sages. Pay attention to his tutors. Follow the rules. Don't make the Firelord angry. Avoid pain. Avoid his own grief.
These tasks had given Aang very little time to worry about the ways that what he believed and how he lived conflicted with one another.
But now, so much had changed, and so rapidly. He was marrying the Crown Princess of the Fire Nation, and thus becoming a permanent member of the Fire Nation royalty. He was being sent to hunt for Zuko, being commanded to end him. The dissonance inside him was becoming so loud he could hardly focus.
And yet his instincts had become so conditioned—Do what you're told. Avoid pain. You deserved this—that his knee-jerk response was always defensive, focused entirely on preservation and safety.
But these new changes were different. And they'd been thrust on him so fast. How was he to cope? He'd tried to take one step at a time. One hurdle at a time. Do what was asked in each moment, while stubbornly refusing to think of what would be demanded next, because he knew he could not bear the burdens of tomorrow today. He'd begun to pray in his native tongue to accept a foreign life, one that he'd never wanted.
Aang's hands itched to rub his forearms, but he resisted. The Firelord was watching. The whole ballroom was watching. The Avatar would have to hold up what Aang could not handle.
As another couple approached them and was introduced, Aang bowed his head again absently, his hands held in Fire Nation fashion, his thumb to his palm, as he awaited another gift of gold to be placed around his neck.
"Are those permanent?"
Aang's distant, churning thoughts were brought suddenly to the woman who stood in front of him. Even though she'd been introduced as retired Admiral Hiroku's wife, she was surprisingly young.
"Pardon?" Aang asked, not sure what she was asking.
The woman audaciously reached out and took Aang's hand, tracing her fingers along the blue arrow on the back of it. "These."
"Oh. Yes," Aang answered, a bit flustered. "They're permanent." Fire Nation nobility did not often touch one another, so the way this woman held his hand made him nervous.
"They're really quite lovely," she said softly, stroking his tattoos. The Admiral's young wife held his hand a moment too long before remembering herself, and reaching around her own neck to remove a long golden chain strung with a large ruby pendant. Tipping up on her toes, she draped the necklace over Aang's head, her hands lingering on the gleaming chain.
"Amazing," she crooned, looking at his face. She lifted her hand from his shoulders and skimmed her fingers over his forehead, brushing the blue arrow of his extinct people. Her golden eyes looked at him intently, a heat in them making him uncomfortable. "To think that one of you escaped a hundred years ago. And now here you are. Standing right in front of me."
"Escaped?" Aang asked.
The sound of a feminine throat being cleared broke the woman's gaze and she pulled her hands away quickly. A hot blush rose to Aang's cheeks as he looked at Azula who had previously been speaking with the Admiral, but now stood looking at them, her lips pursed and one eyebrow arched challengingly at the woman.
The Princess looked at Director Ao'nao, who rushed forward to shoo the lingering admiral and his young wife away.
"What did she mean, that I 'escaped'?" Aang asked.
"Admiral Hiroku has married a twit," Azula said through her teeth, watching the woman walk away, now on the arm of her much older husband. "Pay her no mind. She's clearly a tart who has flirted her way up the social ladder, but has never held a coherent thought between her ears."
Aang's brow furrowed.
Azula sighed, noting Aang's continued disquiet. "Obviously she meant that you 'escaped the plague', of course." She flipped her hand dismissively. "A hundred years ago."
Aang thought this over. It was a strange choice of words. Without permission his mind recalled what Katara had said, about the Air Nomads being killed… 'Escaped' seemed a far more apt word choice in that situation.
"Azula!" an excited voice squealed. Aang turned in time to see Ty Lee gracefully dance past Director Ao'nao's best efforts to prevent her from entering the bride and groom's personal space. Ty Lee threw her arms around Azula's neck, a leg kicking up behind her. She then pulled back and gave Aang a sunny smile before throwing herself at him in a big hug as well. "Hey, Aangy!"
The nickname brought a genuine smile to Aang's lips; the sensation feeling strangely foreign of late. "Hey, Ty Lee," he greeted back.
"Oh I've been waiting aaaalllllll night to talk to you two!" she bubbled enthusiastically.
"Oh really?" Azula asked skeptically. "Then why were you the very last to leave the banquet hall?"
"Weeellllll," Ty Lee said, "my date was really invested in the banquet. He loved the kebabs so much that even I started to feel a bit jealous!" She laughed openly at her own joke, making Aang smile again. It was good to see Ty Lee.
"Oh!" Ty Lee exclaimed in surprise as if she had just remembered she had a date. "Where is Sokka?!"
All three of them looked to see the tall Watertribesman standing patiently near Director Ao'nao, having been stopped at the rotund man's parameter. With a chagrinned half-smile on his face he waved at Ty Lee, who promptly bounced over to him, took his arm—"Come here, Silly!"— and pulled him past the annoyed Chief Director of Imperial Banqueting and up to Azula and Aang.
"You remember Sokka, don't you Aangy?" Ty Lee asked enthusiastically.
"Sure I—"
"Yes, yes, we all remember your Watertribe beau, Ty Lee," Azula cut off exasperatedly, waving her hand dismissively. It was clear to Aang that Azula was less than excited about Ty Lee's interest in the inventor from Research & Development.
"It's good to see you again, Sokka," Aang said, trying to defuse the tension Azula's comment had brought to the group.
Sokka smiled, although his eyes were stony as they looked at Aang. "Congratulations on your wedding, Avatar."
Aang answered cautiously, unsure what to make of Sokka's mixed message. "Uh, thanks. And remember, you can just call me 'Aang'."
"Riiiight…" Sokka said distrustfully. "Aang."
Something about the way Sokka looked at him made Aang squirm.
"Uh!" Azula sighed in annoyance. "You really shouldn't be so casual with commoners, Aang."But before anyone else could say anything, Azula continued, "Ty Lee, I'm glad you are here. I think that buffoon on Father's counsel knocked my hairpiece awry when he put on his gift necklace. Can you come with me and fix it? I can feel it rocking up there and I simply will not have one hair out of place on my wedding day."
"Sure, Azula!" Ty Lee agreed, following Azula out toward her dressing room. "Be back in a minute, Cutie!" she said twiddling her fingers at Sokka.
This left Aang and Sokka standing awkwardly alone together.
"So…" Aang said at last, trying to lighten whatever dark thoughts Sokka seemed to be mulling over. "You and Ty Lee?"
"Oh, yeah," Sokka said seeming to remember to put on his happy-go-lucky persona. "She's uh… a lot of fun."
Aang smiled. "Yeah, she is."
"And apparently being best friends with the Crown Princess also gives her a ticket to all sorts of fancy affairs like this. I never thought I'd get to attend Crown Princess Azula's wedding." Sokka said with a single, ironic laugh.
"I did." Aang admitted. "Just… not quite like this." Aang looked down at his groom's robes, shame quickly filling the pit in his stomach that dread had already slowly carved away.
Sokka looked at him, reading something Aang wasn't sure he wanted the other man to know.
But Sokka kept the conversation light. "Ty Lee is great. She's enthusiastic and creative. Plus, she's not a bad kisser either," he added with a smug, half-smile.
"No, she's not," Aang agreed knowingly.
Sokka gave him a strange look, but Aang quickly changed the subject. "So how are the travel balloons coming along?"
"Most of the balloons are past the test phase, and are well into production now," Sokka answered. "I just got word that my latest "Royal" model completed construction yesterday, and will be taking off for the Earth Kingdom in just a couple days. Ty Lee will be on it. She assures me that I don't need to worry, because the 'winds will be perfect that day'." Sokka looked shrewdly at Aang. "Doesn't take a genius to catch the hint. So you're leaving the Fire Nation soon, eh?"
Aang knew that the Firelord liked to keep information like that as limited knowledge, especially considering the nature of Aang's "assignment," but since Sokka seemed to have worked it out already anyway, it seemed silly to deny it.
"Yeah. I am," he said.
"So uh," Sokka asked, examining his fingernails with exaggerated casualness, "what happens to that waterbending master of yours when you leave?"
This was now the third time Aang had seen Sokka, and all three times the topic of Katara had come up. Aang cocked his head, looking at the inventor more closely. Like himself, Sokka was dressed in Fire Nation red, but despite his topknot, his features were distinctly watertribe. His skin tone, his cheekbones. The intensity of those blue eyes.
Blue eyes that reminded him starkly of someone else.
Katara had told Aang just a few hours ago that she had a brother here in the Fire Nation… and it hit Aang like a train.
"You're worried about what will happen to your sister when I leave?"
Sokka's eyes blew wide for a split-second as they connected with Aang's. But immediately, he laughed, blowing air out his lips. "Sister? I don't know what you're talking about. I just wanted to know what happens to the Avatar's teachers when he's all done being taught is all."
His act was good. And if it hadn't been for his initial candid surprise, Aang would have second-guessed his assessment. But he was sure he'd guessed right: Sokka was Katara's brother.
The truth of it sent Aang's mind reeling. Katara had said that her brother wasn't safe. That he was being used as leverage against her. Was that true?
"How long have you been in the Fire Nation, Sokka?" Aang asked suspiciously.
Sokka's eyes narrowed at Aang, as if trying to read his angle. "A long time," he answered cryptically.
"And what brought you here?"
"A boat."
Aang would have laughed if it weren't for his annoyance at Sokka's obviously evasive answers.
"Huh. Funny. Me too," Aang said without humor. "So why have you stayed?"
"Staying was easier than leaving," Sokka replied, looking Aang directly in the eyes.
Again, his answer told Aang nothing. Nothing; except that he was hiding something.
Sokka smiled charmingly, "Come on, I'm just curious about her. There are not a lot of Water Tribers around here."
Aang watched Sokka without answering. And soon Sokka's goofy facade dropped, and the two men looked at each other seriously. Finally, Sokka's voice lowered, "Look, I just need to know that Katara is safe."
Katara. Just hearing her name made Aang's heart contract.
"I'm not sure what will happen to her," Aang admitted helplessly, his voice equally low. "But I want you to know that I'm doing all I can to assure her safety."
Concern for Katara's wellbeing needled Aang constantly. He had spoken to Counselor Zhao about Katara just today. Aang had commanded—a command that had sounded far more like a desperate plea—that Zhao keep her safe. Counselor Zhao had promised to attend to her care Aang was away.
Sokka's eyes darkened, trying to read something in Aang's face.
"We're back," Azula announced, startling them both. She took Aang's arm and turned him to face their guests in the ballroom, one hand reaching up to gently touch the tall black hairpiece on the top of her head. "Let's hope none of the rest of these buffoons ruins my hair as they clamor for favor with their gifts."
She looked back over her shoulder at Ty Lee who had appeared back at Sokka's side, taking his arm. "Ty Lee, don't go far. I anticipate that I may need your help again before the night is done."
"Sure thing, Azula!" Ty Lee replied as she eagerly pulled on Sokka's arm, dragging him towards the fire acrobats.
For a moment Aang's eye connected with Sokka's again—understanding passing between them—and then he was gone.
….
The next hour felt like a blur. Aang couldn't seem to keep his mind focused on where he was, his thoughts ever turning back to Sokka and Katara.
Finding out that they were siblings bothered him. Like everyone had secrets. Too many things that he didn't know about.
Was Sokka a part of the Rebellion like Katara? If so, was it safe for Ty Lee to be dating him? At the very least, Aang knew that Sokka was hiding things. Why hadn't Sokka just told Aang from the start that Katara was his sister? And why hadn't Katara mentioned that it was Sokka who was her brother when Aang had talked to her earlier today?
For an irrational moment, Aang considered telling Azula what he knew: about Katara being part of the Rebellion. That Sokka was her brother. Maybe Azula would know what to make of it all?
But he stopped himself.
One thing that Katara and Sokka both shared in common was fear. Fear for the safety of the other. And Aang could not deny that their fear could be warranted. That he shared the same fear.
Unbidden, images flashed before his eyes: of Master Bo murdered in the arena, of Master Pakku burning at a stake, of Appa writhing in pain. Aang shook his head sharply, trying to rebury these painful memories that caused his stomach to lurch.
"This is a token of prosperity," Aang was pulled from his harrowing thoughts by the voice of an elderly woman placing a large pendant around Azula's neck. "A symbol of fertility, that the two of you may be blessed with many children."
Azula smiled tightly as the woman was ushered away.
"Ugh, would you look at this thing?" the princess complained as she held the heavy, solid gold pendant up for Aang to see. It was made in the shape of a fat rabbit-pig with six small piglet-bunnies dangling at the bottom, as though they were suckling milk from their mother. "It's hideous!"
Abruptly Azula gripped the sow and four of the small piglets and, yanking hard, tore the piglets off the mother. "There," she said decisively displaying the two remaining piglet-bunnies hanging from the pendant. "An heir and a spare. That's all we'll need."
The abrupt ruthlessness of the act startled Aang.
"Here," Azula said holding up her fist that held the four severed piglets. Aang obediently opened his hand. "Take these. Those are still solid gold. We can smelt them down at least." Azula looked at the pig pendant hanging from her neck. "Not that I'll be wearing this thing anyway. It's ghastly!"
Aang looked down at the four small piglet-bunnies in his palm. For some unaccountable reason, their little forms filled him with rage.
Aang felt himself clutch the little piglets and take an involuntary step backwards. Then another.
"Where are you going?" Azula asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"I need… a minute," he mumbled as he turned to get away. He could feel the Firelord's eyes on his back, but he resisted the urge to glance back up at him.
It took all his self-control not to run.
…
Aang stared at the sword displayed on the wall without seeing it, his mind too overwhelmed to focus.
Aang had known he couldn't outright leave the wedding celebration, but the urge to get away had been stronger than he could resist. Like a pacing lion-hound in a cage, he simply had to let off some steam, even if he could not get away.
So it was that Aang found himself here, in one of the smaller adjoining rooms to the ballroom, desperate for some approximation of solitude to sort through his feelings.
Once, long ago, the worst things about being the Avatar were being left out of childhood games or needing to move to another air temple to train. Those heartaches felt so insignificant now, compared to all that being the Avatar had cost him since. It had cost him a hundred years, his people, his freedom, and most recently, the woman he loved. All because of an unfortunate circumstance of birth that he had no control over. Aang had never wanted to be the Avatar, but never had he loathed his role more strongly than now.
Aang looked down again at the four little gold piglets in his hand.
Events in his life had happened so fast recently that he had hardly had any time to consider all of what marriage would mean. And children had barely crossed his mind. But now, as he looked down at the severed golden piglets in his hand, he felt sick, imagining what life would be for his children here in the palace.
Aang lifted the heavy stack of necklaces hanging like stones around his neck, and shifted them backward on his shoulders, trying to get some relief from their weight.
One well-wisher tonight had already jokingly praised that "at least your children will be blessed with rich parents!" The man had found himself tremendously funny, and Azula had laughed as well. But the sentiment had jarred Aang.
Is that what he wished for for his children? Wealth? Political power, prestige and pressure?
Admittedly, Aang had not thought a lot about becoming a father. But he already knew that he never wanted to burden his children with those things.
Aang's thoughts turned to Monk Gyatso. Yes it was true that Gyatso had not been his biological father, nor had he known the parents that gave him life. Regardless, Aang had loved and been loved so fully, that he knew he'd lacked for nothing. Isn't that what he wanted for his own children? To have parents that loved them? Parents that would teach them to be good and kind and generous?
Aang thought of the two piglets Azula had left dangling from the necklace. Apparently, according to Azula, even the number of their children was already decided. Only two would live. And their futures would be meticulously predetermined, their value based purely on their usefulness.
Like Aang's life now.
Aang looked again at the piglets in his hand. These little ones would never even merit life. An unexplained longing for these discarded piglets swelled inside Aang.
Suddenly a powerful ache for Katara washed over Aang like a tidal wave. He had once imagined his life spent with her. His family built with her. Yet when he looked at these little golden lives-that-would-never-be, he irrationally saw the family he could have had with Katara.
Once, back in his room during one of their late night talks, conversation had turned to children, and Aang had asked Katara if she planned to have kids one day.
"I hope so. I love children."
"How many?" he'd teased.
"I dunno. Maybe four. Or five. Or maybe six…" she'd trialed off with a glorious blush. "How about you?"
Aang had looked at her with besotted adoration, answering without thinking. "However many you want sounds good to me."
Katara had blushed even redder, and Aang's mouth had dropped open when he'd realized what he'd implied. But the fact was, he had been thinking of them having children together. He had been hoping that whatever life they built in the future, that they'd do it together.
Thinking of Katara, Aang could almost feel her arms around him again, an embrace that had felt like hope, like joy, like perfect balance. It had felt like family. A life with her had once felt so Right.
Tears blurred his vision of the little piglets, so he closed his fist around them.
Earlier today when he'd visited Katara, he'd been hardly able to look her, because he'd ached so badly for her. In that moment, when she'd told him that she still loved him, his wish for it to be true had resonated within him like a perfectly tuned singing bowl. It had taken all his self restraint not to pull the wall off her cell and steal her away.
But Aang had tried to rescue Katara once before, and she had refused. If he had been at all sure that she would have gone with him, he wasn't sure that he could have stopped himself. But Katara's situation was more complicated than he'd known. He now knew that she would not leave without her brother.
Aang sighed. Pretending not to love her was going nowhere. Despite everything that had happened between them, Aang loved Katara more than ever. No matter how he tried to feel otherwise, the desperate longing he felt for her seemed to grow endlessly inside him, building like a sob that could never, ever be released.
And yet here he was, at his own wedding. Without any choice.
Katara had told him that he always had a choice. But how could he keep her safe if he ran now? Aang couldn't see any options that didn't end in pain. For him. And for those he cared about.
So despite the fact that Aang couldn't, he must. He didn't want to, and yet he would anyway.
"I see you've taken a particular interest in this one," a voice said, startling Aang from the mire of his own thoughts. "One of my earlier designs, but I must admit, I am still quite proud of it."
Aang looked to his side to where a distinguished man dressed in elegant, long black robes trimmed with white stood next to him. The man clasped his hands casually behind his back, but Aang got the distant impression that he was capable of moving with eel-hound speed if the need arose.
"Um, pardon?" Aang said, being unaccustomed to strangers approaching and speaking to him.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself," the man said, his voice soft but resonating. "I am Master Piandao, and these"—the man gestured to the room full of swords on display—"are my swords."
Aang blinked for a moment before he followed the man's hand to more closely observe the room where he stood. The walls were covered with elaborate weapons, mostly swords, all displayed artfully as though they were an exhibit in a museum. Aang had been so distracted with his own thoughts, that, he realized with some embarrassment, he had not even noticed.
"Master Piandao," Aang greeted with a belated, respectful bow, "I am Avatar Aang."
Master Piandao's dark eyes twinkled with subdued amusement. "Yes. I am aware."
"I'd heard that your personal collection would be on display tonight," Aang said trying to get his emotions under control. "I am honored to meet you and observe your work."
The sword master bowed his head in humble acceptance of Aang's compliment. "Would you allow me to show you around?"
Having already been dragged from his thoughts, but not yet ready to return to the celebration, Aang agreed.
The two of them walked slowly, Master Piandao gesturing to various swords, pointing out features here or there that were of particular interest.
"Did you enjoy the banquet?" Aang asked conversationally as the two of them walked slowly around the exhibit.
"I did indeed. I particularly appreciated the stuffed lotus root."
"Me too."
"It's been a long while since I've had that dish. I missed it."
"You've… eaten it before?" Aang asked with mild surprise.
"Why yes," Master Piandao answered with a knowing smile. "The head cook once worked for me, before his promotion to the palace kitchens."
Aang looked at him with interest—They shared a friend! Er, well, a cook anyway—but Master Piandao simply turned and continued walking.
Master Piandao took a sword from its scabbard on display, holding it up respectfully.
"The sword is a magnificent tool, powerful, quick and deadly," Master Piandao said. In a flash he sliced the sword to either side of his body, with little more than his wrist moving. The sharp swish sounded in Aang's ears as it sliced the air.
"But it is also beautiful. A piece of art. The study of its discipline can be used for great good."
Aang listened, an inkling growing that all of the master's words held meaning beyond what he said.
"But the sword is a weapon, a tool," Piandao continued, "it is not the Master. The Master is the hand that wields it."
Aang nodded in agreement.
"The Avatar is powerful as well," Piandao said carefully as he replaced the sword. "Some argue that the Avatar is far too powerful, too dangerous."
The swordsman turned to face Aang. "But the question remains: is he the Master? Or the Weapon?"
The question startled Aang. Like a plunge into icy water. Aang's whole body tensed.
But Master Piandao only tipped his head in query and walked on, leaving Aang to grapple with his own answer, feeling breathless, his mind spinning.
"These are twin blades," Piandao instructed as he casually pointed to another display. Aang, still reeling, walked to join him in front of two swords that were mounted in a X on the wall. "Dual blades. Two parts of one whole." He took them down. He placed the handles together, showing how combined they were in fact, one single sword. "You see, they can move independently. But they ought to be treated as one. For they are." Aang watched as Piandao swung the swords, one in each hand, with a dancer's grace and a master's control. "These swords are not unlike many of us. At times we may try to split ourselves, to treat our different parts as though they are separate. But we mustn't. For all of our roles are part of one whole."
Aang thought of Gyatso, and his teaching about fragmenting.
Master Piandao stopped his movement, bringing the swords suddenly, but fluidly back together, the sword pointing up between them. His eyes caught Aang's, their gaze saturated with meaning. "I would imagine it must be difficult for you to be both the Avatar and the Last Airbender."
The comment was insolent; something that Princess Azula or Counselor Zhao would have immediately called out as such. But Aang found that his words, although startling in their candidness, caused emotion to catch in his throat. It was true. Despite still being an Airbender, Aang felt his Air Nomadism diminished, almost completely eclipsed by his duties as the Avatar.
Aang stared at Master Piandao, his eyes wide.
The master held his gaze for a long, intense moment, before turning to replace the blades into their holder on the wall. He spoke as he did so. "I taught a member of the royal family swordsmanship many years ago. He preferred the dual blades."
"Who…?" Aang began, before second-guessing himself. Was he at liberty to ask questions? But soon his curiosity got the better of him. "Who did you teach?"
"Under other circumstances, you might have called him 'Brother,'" Master Piandao answered levelly. "My student was the former Crown Prince Zuko."
Aang's mouth felt dry; he was unsure what he should say in response. "I… I see." He looked down, shame and regret filling him as he considered what the Firelord expected him to do to the former prince. "But I thought… that Prince Zuko was a firebender."
Piandao's mouth curled up in a one-sided smile. "He is," he answered simply.
"And still he… learned swordsmanship?" Aang asked. He didn't want to insult the swordsman, and yet he knew that it was uncommon here in the Fire Nation for firebenders to learn weaponry.
"The ways of the sword are not limited to those who bend or those who do not."
"Of… of course," Aang answered with an abashed bow of his head.
"Prince Zuko in many ways was not so unlike yourself," Piandao went on lightly as he turned to continue walking with Aang through the exhibit. "He was hard working, at times overly eager to please. An idealist. Even if he was somewhat… misinformed." The word was not spoken loudly, but the weight of it reverberated through Aang like a giant brass gong. Master Piandao looked intently at Aang as he said it, his eyes carrying a message.
Aang's throat bobbed. Misinformed. Why did it feel as though Master Piandao said the word to describe Aang specifically?
Aang's spine stiffened, his thoughts turning immediately to what Katara had said in the bay. They've been lying to you, Aang. All of them.
Aang looked around, noticing that, aside from the sentries that stood at the door, the two of them were suddenly alone in the room. Somehow all the other wedding guests who had been browsing the exhibit were now gone.
Aang's hackles raised in caution. Was he in danger?
Despite the way Aang's stomach clenched on alert, he needed to know more.
Aang chose his words carefully, trying to match the nonchalance of Master Piandao's tone. "Misinformation can be hard to identify. When different sources speak of opposite truths, how is one to know what is true and what is not?"
Master Piandao did not reply immediately. Instead he removed another sword from its mounting on the wall. The sword was long, but lithe, the blade having a jade-colored tinge. The swordsman sliced it through the air twice, the displaced air from the blade lightly brushing Aang's face. Aang swallowed nervously. Although the sword master had not said or done anything that could be construed as aggressive, it did not escape Aang's notice that Piandao could have already killed him. With graceful ease.
"The lotus flower, like all plants, requires many sources of nourishment," Master Piandao said as he stilled the sword, bringing its handle up for Aang to see more clearly. White lotus flower carvings adorned both sides of the hilt. "The flower rests on the surface of the pond, while the roots of the lotus stretch long, digging deep to absorb nutrients from the earth beneath. The rays of the sun give it energy. The winds change the seasons, bringing in rain and rejuvenating the waters. All of these sources give the lotus life."
His brown eyes looked at Aang, piercing him like one of the swords he masterfully wielded. "If one seeks nourishment solely from a single source, it will never be complete, never be balanced. No one nation can impart the whole Truth."
Aang swallowed. Although the words were conversational, Aang felt them personally. So much of what he'd learned about what it means to be the Avatar came solely from the Fire Nation. Aang was a Nomad, it was true. And yet he had not left the Fire Nation—he'd hardly even left the palace—since he was twelve.
"But you… you are Fire Nation, aren't you?" Aang asked, a bit confused.
"I am." Piandao replied unapologetically. "But just as the ways of the sword are not limited to non-benders nor benders, it spans all races, and all regions. It belongs to no one nation." The sword master turned to face Aang directly as he added, "Just as the Avatar belongs to no one nation."
The words hit Aang solidly, like one of Master Bo's boulders. Aang was the Master of Four Elements, and yet he lacked balance between them. The words resonated with Truth like the scripture he and Gyatso used to chant together in meditation.
"A badgerfrog who lives at the bottom of a well, sees the sky only as the small round spot above him," Master Piandao said, his voice strong like a teacher. "Occasionally, he sees the sun pass over, and the moon. He catches a glimmer of the stars on a clear night. It is his reality, all he's known." Piandao's voice slowed, emphasizing his next words. "But the badgerfrog can never know of the true expanse of the sky, the vastness of the fields and mountains and seas, unless he climbs from the well. Until then, his narrow vision of the sky will be all he can ever comprehend."
Aang understood. But the words did not change his circumstances, the heavy weight of the necklaces around his shoulders reminding him of such.
"But what if… he can't get out?" Aang whispered, despair lacing his words.
"A Window Always Opens."
Aang looked at Master Piandao sharply—those were Cook Kanda's words! Aang was now sure that this was all far more than a discussion of philosophy. This was an invitation.
And a warning.
"There are eyes on you, Avatar," Master Piandao said, stepping closer to him, his voice lowering. "Eyes on both sides of the conflict, waiting to see who holds the Weapon's hilt. Please be aware that these eyes are prepared, and able," the light from the torch on the wall glinted off of the sword in Piandao's hand, "to eliminate you as a threat if needed, before you ever reach the Earth Kingdom."
Aang's eyes snapped to Piandao's. Was this a threat? Aang stood up taller, his brow furrowing.
"Please know I do not wish it to come to that," Piandao whispered urgently. Aang saw the way the man's grip on the sword shifted.
"How…? How can the badgerfrog climb from the well?" Aang asked quietly.
"Assistance can be given. But as windows open, so also do they close. There is a window opening for you tonight. But after tonight, it will close. Forever."
"Tonight?"
Piandao nodded. "And if you refuse, I'm afraid that next time, other tactics will be employed."
Again, a threat. But Aang felt hope leap inside of him despite it.
"Think on it. If you choose, wait alone on the back balcony overlooking the garden before the final toast and specifics will be given to you."
Master Piandao made a show of replacing the lotus sword into its display. He then stepped back and faced Aang.
"It has been a pleasure to show you around my collection, Avatar Aang," Master Piandao said, his voice once again normal volume. "May the next time we meet have a glorious full view of the sky."
And with that, the swordsman bowed and left him alone.
…