A/N: We are almost to the end, friends! Just two more chapters after this one—final count will be 24. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story even though my upload schedule has gotten slowed down significantly (I'm looking at you, guest reviewer, who simply writes ":TODAY!" on Tuesday mornings, haha. You are the reason I'm updating today ;) Alas, life happens, and it's been happening too much for me lately XD, but we only have to hang in there for two more chapters and then we will FINALLY be done! Yay!
A HUGE thanks as always to my amazing beta, FlameoHotwife! I'm sure that if she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to beta for me way back in August 2021, she probably never would have agreed, LOL. But she is wonderful to stick with me and eke out time in her hectic life to edit this monstrosity. I owe her SOOOO much!
And to everyone who writes me a review: thank you! With all that's been going on in my life, I've found myself running out of steam (and time!) for this story, but your reviews and encouragement keep me going. So thank you!
Okay, enough of my rambling. On with the story!
….
Katara noticed that from this close, the Crown Princess's eyes looked like molten gold.
It was a shockingly vibrant color against the woman's milky white skin. The Princess had deceptively delicate features, but as Azula prowled lithely back and forth in front of her, Katara knew that there was nothing delicate about her. Despite her inherent beauty, the intensity of Princess Azula's gaze reminded Katara of one of the large, feline predators she'd once seen stalking her through the dark shadows of a haunted swamp. Focused, intense, deadly, and—when the Princess turned her eyes on Katara—full of hate.
Katara purposely looked away, giving her hands a tug, testing the strength of the manacles that held them bound. Her arms felt numb. This could be due in part to those strange, precise punches Azula hit her with at the prison, punches that had made her arms drop uselessly to her sides and her inherent connection to water to disappear. However, Katara was pretty sure that that particular numbness was wearing off. More likely than not, the numbness she felt now was due to her arms being forced above her head, handcuffed to a long chain that was fastened high up on a stone column in the Firelord's Throne Room.
Katara had never set foot in the Firelord's Throne Room before—had never imagined that she ever would. Nor had she ever actually seen the Firelord. And yet here she was. And there he was, majestic and imposing behind a wall of flames.
He struck a formidable figure. Clearly Firelord Ozai was physically very powerful, but there was something else about him as well, something more intangible. A sense of regal untouchability. Objectively, Ozai looked very much like Zuko (like Zuko would without his scar that is). But that is were the similarities ended; the energy they emitted could not have been more different.
A shiver ran down Katara's spine. This man had perpetuated the war, the lives of countless souls on his hands. He had been responsible for her mother's death, and her Gran Gran's. For the annihilation of her whole tribe. And yet somehow even more chilling was the knowledge that this man had taken his own child and burned him. He had then carelessly sent his thirteen year old boy to sea, not caring if he rotted there.
Fear and hatred for the Firelord battled inside Katara. And at the moment, fear was winning.
"What is it about you?"
The quiet question startled Katara, causing her to tear her wide eyes away from the god-like Firelord to settle on his daughter. Azula had stopped her prowling and now stood directly in front of Katara, her golden predatory eyes boring into her.
"P-pardon?" Katara asked in confusion.
The Princess took another dangerous step closer to Katara, her jaguar eyes unblinking. She spoke softly, even as the bite in her words rang clear. "I said, 'what is it about you?' That bewitches the Avatar?"
Katara swallowed in alarm. She had not known why she'd been brought here, to the Firelord's Throne Room in the middle of the night. She'd suspected that perhaps she was to be interrogated for information about Zuko and the Rebellion. But with the Princess's question, she now knew that this was because of Aang.
Concern chilled Katara's insides. Had Aang said something? Had he done something? Was he safe?!
"There's n-nothing."
"Don't lie to me, peasant!" Azula bit. "I've seen how he looks at you."
"I'm nothing to him," Katara repeated uselessly. "He's marrying you…"
Azula's hand moved so quickly Katara didn't even register the slap until her face had whipped to the side, a sharp sting blossoming on her cheek.
"Azula!" The Firelord's voice boomed, reproachful. "Do not allow the tribal peasant to make you petty."
The Princess turned toward her father, bowing her head in respect. "Of course, Father." She stepped away from Katara to continue her pacing. But when she glanced back, the hatred in her eyes only burned hotter.
Katara bit her tongue, keeping her eyes down lest the princess see her own returned hatred. This woman was to become Aang's wife?! Her sweet, kind-hearted Aang was to be married to a viper-rat. Admittedly, Katara would not have been happy about him marrying any other woman, but for him to be paired with Azula seemed especially cruel.
"Azula," the Firelord called again.
The princess approached the wall of orange flame.
"Are you sure this is necessary?" the Firelord spoke from behind his wall of flames. "What makes you so sure that Aang will betray us tonight?"
The princess stood up straighter, absolute confidence radiating from her stance. "He'll come."
Firelord Ozai observed his daughter silently for moment. It was clear that he trusted her. Wholeheartedly. Two people, a father and daughter, cut from the same cloth.
"And what are you prepared to do when he arrives?" Ozai asked.
"He can be returned to us, Father. Reeducated. Redeemed."
Ozai huffed. "If what you say is true, he is not worth the effort."
Katara saw the princess's body still. Her hand reached in her pocket, fingering something. But her voice betrayed nothing. "The Avatar is surely worth the effort. He is powerful now, but even so, the potential within him remains untapped. You have already expended so much effort on his behalf, Father. He is simply misguided. Confused. I know he can be persuaded to return to us."
"We cannot abide a Weapon as powerful as him to be out of our control."
"Indeed, Father. But remember, everyone has a price they are willing to pay…" Azula gave a sidelong glance at Katara, her eyebrow arching haughtily, "…and I know Aang's."
….
The walk through the palace to the Firelord's Throne Room felt longer than it ever had.
Aang had raced across the rooftops, unable to travel fast enough in his frantic need to get to Katara. But as he'd returned to the palace, and walked the plushly carpeted path to the Throne Room, he found his pace getting slower and slower, each step filling him with greater and greater dread.
Guards were posted in their usual places along the hallways, although, Aang noticed, they appeared to be greater in number. As usual, none of them spoke to him, but there was something about the way their eyes followed him tonight that gave Aang an immense sense of foreboding. Did they know what was happening? Were they preparing to kill him?
Aang's legs felt like lead as he put one foot in front of the other. But regardless of how his body seemed to protest, he did not hesitate when he arrived outside the room, but immediately pushed through the thick curtain.
The Firelord's Throne Room had always filled Aang with anxiety, with fear, but the picture that met his eyes as he walked inside made all of that pale.
There was the Firelord, sheltered high up on the dais behind the wall of fire, a long leather whip coiled in his hand. Azula stood just below him on the ground.
And there was Katara, chained to the second column from the front.
For Aang, it was a tailor-crafted image of his own personal hell.
Despite the terror jolting through his body, Aang's feet only paused a moment before pushing forward, compelled to—at all costs—stop this!
"Avatar Aang," there was a hint of surprise in the Firelord's voice as it rang through the cavernous room.
Aang walked forward, his eyes being drawn like magnets towards Katara. She was chained (as he had so often been) to one of the stone pillars. His still-tender back seemed to flare in remembrance. Seeing her there sent a violent shudder rippling through his body.
Then guilt washed over him. It was his fault that Katara was here. He had put her in danger, making her a target of the Firelord.
For a moment their eyes locked. Aang had seen a great many things in Katara's eyes: laughter, defiance, love. He'd seen curiosity, distrust, and even hatred. But he had never before seen her wide blue eyes so full of fear.
While meditating earlier this evening Aang had decided that he was done serving the Firelord, that he would bow to his wishes no more. He'd concluded that paying his own life for that dignity was a price that he could swallow, even with gratitude. However, he'd also recognized what price he could not pay. And that price was Katara. He simply could not put her life in jeopardy.
And yet, here she was. Every step Aang prayed to wake up from this nightmare.
Aang tore his eyes from Katara and they fell next upon Azula. Immediately, shame filled his gut as the Princess avoided his eye. Normally Azula was unreadable, shrewd and haughty. But in a single, flashing glance Aang could see open betrayal in her eyes. Not an hour ago, Aang had pretended to love her, pretended as though he would marry her in the morning. But all the while he'd been planning to run away. Aang looked away from Azula, unable to bear the hurt he could see in her face.
Aang approached the burning throne.
To not bow to the Firelord in his throne room was an act of supreme defiance. Despite his previous, lofty resolutions, the moment Aang arrived before the burning throne his knees nearly buckled to the floor, the urge to kowtow almost visceral. But he commanded his body to remain standing.
Ozai's brow lowered in disapproval.
Azula caught Aang's eye and gestured to the ground with a tilt of her head. He swallowed but ignored her. So she spoke to him, a surprising note of pleading in her whisper. "Kneel, Aang!"
But he consciously resisted the urge and remained standing.
The Firelord's voice rang out loudly to the guards throughout the large room, "Leave us." Aang kept his eyes on Ozai, but he could hear the clatter of armor as the guards exited. Aang had learned early on that as much as the Royal Family relied upon their servants, they did not appreciate witnesses who might wag their tongues about intimate family matters. And this was a family matter.
Ozai's dismissal of the guards told Aang two things. One, Ozai was not afraid of Aang. And two, that what was to follow was to be hushed up, unwritten. If the Firelord wanted to, he could make whatever was to take place here tonight as though it had never happened.
As soon as the sounds of the guards leaving had subsided, Aang asked, "Why have you taken Master Katara?"
"Oh no," Ozai's voice resonated confidently, "the question is why have you come looking for her?" The Firelord let the damning words hang in the air for a long moment before adding quietly. "You betray me, my son."
"No, I—"
"Do. Not. LIE. to. Me!" the Firelord roared.
Indignation spiked inside of Aang at the mention of lies and his tongue moved in defiant reply. "You're the one who's been lying!"
The Firelord's eyes opened wide in surprise at his insolence. Then the fire of the burning throne flared, causing invisible heat waves to blur Aang's vision. He had to turn his face away from it.
"How dare you?" Ozai asked, the muscles of his chest rising and falling as he fumed.
"Why didn't you tell me the truth about my people?" Aang asked, sadness and betrayal tainting every word. "About how they died?"
"I did."
"No!" Aang's brows lowered in angry contradiction. "You told me they died in a plague. But they were murdered. By the Fire Nation!"
"Who told you such things?"
Aang didn't turn his head, but his eyes flashed involuntarily towards Katara. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's true."
Aang's heart sank as Ozai's gaze turned deliberately towards Katara. The Firelord brought his palms together and forward, parting the flames as he walked down the stairs and through the Eternal Flame to join them on the ground.
He strolled predatorily to Aang's left, his eyes analyzing Katara. Aang held his breath.
"So the waterbender has a loose tongue."
"No!" Aang pleaded anxiously, the image of Yuyuan arrows and burning stakes filling his senses, making his stomach lurch.
Slowly Ozai ran the coiled leather of the whip through his hands and pulled it taut with a snap. "I see now that reeducation ought to start with the waterbender."
"No!" Aang stepped forward, his hand outstretched like he would stop the Firelord, but Ozai turned his harsh golden eyes upon Aang, freezing him where he stood. Frozen in the Firelord's gaze, Aang was suddenly and irrationally a child again, thanking this man for his mercy while he beat him.
His knees automatically folded beneath him, bringing him bowing to the floor before the Firelord. His satchel clattered to the ground beside him as his forehead touched the cold marble in desperate submission. "Please, Father! She did nothing!"
Aang had thought that he was past this, that he'd thrown off his subservience to the Firelord. But habit and fear were powerful motivators, and he found himself feeling a sick sense of relief when he surrendered to them. This was how it had always been. How it was meant to be.
Aang kept his arrow on the floor as he waited for the Firelord's permission to look up.
"This woman has told you lies." Ozai's boots walked slowly over and stopped in front of the cowering Avatar. "Rise." Aang sat up obediently, his eyes downcast and his palms clammy with sweat.
"Oh my son," Ozai said as he reached down and lifted Aang's chin in his hand. "Your people were weak. So you search for meaning behind their loss. But there is none. They died for nothing. This water-witch has filled your head with half truths and blatant deceit. And now you have no idea who is lying and who is telling the truth."
Aang tasted doubt.
He couldn't look away from this man he'd feared for so long, this man he'd been taught to call Father. Aang had never known his own father, so the title had held little meaning for him. Only over time had the name come to gain meaning: now Father meant Dominion, Indebtedness, Fear and Unquestioning Obedience.
And sometimes it meant Pain.
"You're a monster!" Katara's voice rang out from his left. "How dare you deny the atrocities you and your forefathers have done!?"
Aang's mouth went dry as Ozai dropped his hand from Aang's jaw and turned towards Katara. "You will pay for your insolence, triber!"
"NO!" Aang lunged forward, grappling at Ozai's feet as he begged. "Please, no! Don't hurt her! Please let her be spared!" Panic gripped Aang's thoughts, blurring everything else at the edges. No! Not Katara! He couldn't let it happen to her too.
"You shame yourself, Aang," Ozai said with distain as he looked down upon his groveling son. "But if you want to spare her so badly…" Aang could hear the sneer in his voice, "you will have to take her place."
Like a trapped animal, Aang looked wide eyed at the chains on the first column. They had been left empty. For him. The chains terrified him far more than the whip. He sat back on his heels as his hands began to rub furiously at his wrists, fear overwhelming any coherent thought. He couldn't! He couldn't. Not again.
And yet he felt himself stand and walk woodenly to stand before the set of empty hanging manacles.
"Aang! No! Don't!" Katara's voice felt far away.
But he had to protect her. Had to keep her from the pain.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he shouldn't. That he would be giving up his one chance at freedom. But now he knew that there hadn't really been any freedom anyway. Disobedience always ended here.
Aang stood facing the stone, his vision a blur, his hand rubbing hard on his forearm. "I will. But you have to promise not to hurt Master Katara. You have to set her free!"
"Of course," Ozai promised. "We will be sure she receives the glorious release befitting one of her Southern tribe."
Unseeing, Aang raised his hands and felt the cold clutch of metal lock onto them forever.
….
He didn't even look at her when Azula closed the iron cuffs onto Aang's wrists. He just stood there, eyes unblinking like a dead man on a spike.
She was angry at him! For coming here tonight. For seeking the waterbender!
And unaccountably… for giving up when Father asked for it.
He was a coward. But braver than anyone she'd ever known. Azula hated him. So badly she couldn't look at him without her core surging painfully. Why? Surely she should want to kill him. And yet that wasn't what she yearned for.
When Aang had walked into the room, Devastation had knocked the floor out from under Azula, like the trapdoor underfoot at the hangman's noose. She had known he would come. And yet she had wished more than anything that he wouldn't. Some small and stupid part of her had still hoped that he had been sleeping soundly in his room, planning to wake up in the morning and marry her. She had hoped that her suspicions were no more than Mai's worthless lies.
Azula's eyes turned toward her now. Mai. She stood leaning against the pillar across from them, silent and judging, her arms folded across her chest. A soundless, uncaring witness. Azula felt for the knife in her pocket, suppressing the urge to hurl it at her apathetic childhood friend who had ruined everything!
"This insubordination will be your last, Aang," she heard Father say as he shook out the whip and let fire slowly lick its way down the length of it. "I will beat it out of you once and for all."
Azula watched the fire devour the oil on the leather whip, and something inside of her plummeted. The flames seemed to laugh at her, making fleeting shapes on the ground as it slithered like a snake: her mother's turtleducks, Zuzu's knife, masked opera demons.
Azula clenched her eyes shut. Ty Lee was supposed to be here. Azula had sent for her already. She needed Ty Lee to be with her right now! Why wasn't she here yet?
"Because she's not coming."
"Shut up!" Azula hissed at Mai who looked blankly back at her from under the shadow of her dark bangs.
"You know she will betray you too," Mai's raspy voice affirmed.
The whip whistled through the air with a crack. Aang jerked, but didn't make a sound.
"No! Stop it!" Azula's thoughts screamed, but the words echoed through the room in the waterbender's voice.
Azula watched Aang intently. In his profile, she could see his jaw lock and his eyes clench shut tight as though in doing so he could disappear.
That same discomfort from last time crept up Azula's spine, only this time even more strongly. The snap of the whip made her jump as though she'd been struck herself. She looked at Mai. "This is your fault!" Azula muttered to the specter. Mai simply shrugged, neither confirming nor denying anything.
"Remember that you are a murderer, Aang. A criminal. But who is it who has set you free?" Father asked.
Aang didn't answer. So Father brought the whip down again. A long tear in Aang's black shirt opened up, revealing welting pale skin underneath.
"Stop it!" the waterbender wailed. "Don't hurt him, please!"
Ignoring her, Father asked, "Who rescued you from a just punishment, a life in the dungeons?"
More silence.
"Who has made you a prince?"
"Answer him, Aang!" Azula breathed low and urgent, willing him to speak! She watched as one edge of Aang's shirt burned. A red coal against a black sky.
"Who?!" her father bellowed, still awaiting Aang's reply. But Aang remained silent.
Azula flinched as the whip snapped again, echoing around the cavernous room.
"How can you let your husband suffer? I thought you loved him."
It was Mother's voice. Azula's head turned towards Father's throne behind the wall of fire. Mother sat upon it, her gentle hands folded demurely on her lap, her head tipped in disappointed judgment.
A lump rose in Azula's throat. "I do…" she admitted weakly. "But he won't love me back…"
Mai snorted, and Azula's attention snapped back to her. Mai eyed the flaming whip and asked sarcastically, "I wonder why?"
"Answer me!" her Father bellowed angrily.
"Answer him!" Azula spoke to herself, an urgent fear for Aang beginning to grip her by the heart. "Answer Father!"
She looked at Aang's face again. This time she was surprised to see his brow relaxed, a look of unfathomable calm on his face. "Jīvanakō pēya titō ra mīṭhō cha…"
"What?!" her father barked.
"Tyasailē ma yō sabai dhan'yavādakā sātha pi'unēchu."
It was Aang's native tongue. That asinine chant again! Azula's eyes darted to her father's face, knowing how much he despised when Aang spoke Air Nomad.
"Do not speak those heathen words!" The Firelord's jaw clenched and his face reddened in fury.
But still Aang's low voice chanted on, his eyes shut peacefully.
"They are dead." Her father spat, the fire of the Eternal Flame rising, the heat in the room becoming stifling. "Maybe you wish you join them?"
"No!" Azula ejected, a terrorized shrillness in her voice. "Father, please! It's not him. It's… it's the waterbender! She's the one who poisoned him."
Ozai paused, glaring critically at his daughter for a brief moment before agreeing. "Yes. Perhaps you're right." He then took several deliberate steps to his left, until he stood directly in front of the water peasant. The water woman's icy blue eyes stared defiantly up at the Firelord.
Aang's chant cut off and his head snapped around.
Azula brought her hand up to her mouth, covering a delighted laugh that threatened to burst from her lips.
"Perhaps you will learn to hold your tongue, Aang," Ozai said scathingly, "when you hear her cries!"
"Father, no!" Aang pulled against the chains. "You promised not to hurt her!"
But Father raised the whip high, and Azula let her laughter free.
….
"NO!" Aang shouted. The muscles of his core contracted as he dug his feet into the floor, causing the stone in front of him to rumble. He then slammed his shoulder into the pillar, causing a crack to spider rapidly up the column to where the root of his chain was buried deep in the stone. He yanked hard, sending the metal anchor and the attached chain sailing through the air and coming down upon the burning whip as it snapped towards Katara. The chain landed with a crack of marble at Ozai's feet, pinning the leather whip under it.
The Firelord jumped back, his eyes widening in shocked surprise.
Before now, Aang had never so much as directed a gust of wind toward Ozai. The Firelord had witnessed Aang fight scores of times, but this was the first time Aang had ever directed his power at him.
Aang felt a terrified thrill zing though him at the recklessness of it. But he had been pushed too far. Aang had been willing to bear the whip. He would wear the chains. But he would not let them hurt Katara.
"Aang!" Azula plead, a note of desperation in her voice. "Don't be a fool. Father can still forgive you!"
But Ozai turned his cold eyes upon Aang and stood up tall, squaring his broad shoulders to face his surrogate son. "No," he sneered, "I don't believe I can. You have dishonored me for the last time, Avatar!"
The Firelord lunged backward, pulling the wall of Eternal Flame suddenly towards Aang. Barely able to turn in time, Aang brought his still shackled hands up in defense, going down on one knee to hide from the heat. Pushing his palms together, he bent the fire, barely cutting through the bulk of the surging flames. But the metal on his arms quickly grew blisteringly hot. Aang cried out in pain and fell back on his hip, lifting his arms to his mouth and blowing a mighty icy wind onto the metal.
Aang heard Ozai laugh, and then felt his hands yanked violently backward by the chain, sprawling him roughly onto his seared back. Immediately the chain was yanked viciously again, and Aang cursed silently as the metal tore into his wrists, the pull nearly dislocating his shoulders.
From the floor, Aang tipped his head backward just in time to see Ozai punch a fireball towards him. Aang rolled to dodge it. But another came immediately after. Aang tried to roll onto his knees, but again he was yanked forward, this time onto his stomach, his chin hitting the marble hard, causing his teeth to rattle. Pain blurred his vision, but he shook his head, blinking furiously to refocus his eyes. When his vision returned he saw Ozai holding the end of the chain with one hand, his other hand fisted and pulled back, ready to shoot another flame at the prostrate Avatar.
The Firelord thrust his hand out, palm forward, unleashing a scorching, continuous pillar of fire directly at Aang. Aang yelped and rolled, windmilling his legs to give him an airbending speed boost, sending his body rolling like a bottle towards the middle of the room. Ozai's fire followed him, but not quickly enough, the speed of Aang's retreat taking the Firelord by surprise. Aang's roll caused the long chain to coil up tightly, twisting out of Ozai's hand when Aang popped up onto his feet and tugged hard on the chain.
Aang's head was still spinning when his feet touched down on the tiles, giving him a powerful sense of vertigo, but regardless, he quickly stomped on the chain and, holding his hands low to the ground, commanded a sharp spike of earth to thrust upward, chopping the chain off at his wrists. His two hands were still tethered together, but at least he was now free from the cumbersome chain.
"You ingrate!" Ozai spat as he stalked toward Aang, punching scorching plumes of fire at Aang as he went. Aang had never encountered a more aggressive firebender. Ozai did not share the grace or precision of Azula, but he made up for it in sheer power! Even being the Avatar, Aang felt the feebleness of each of his blocks, the heat from Ozai's offenses still breaking through his shields and putting him always on the defensive.
"I gave you everything," Ozai raged. "Your life, your freedom. Wealth, political power! My daughter's hand! I treated you as a son, and yet you dishonor me!"
"None of that was for me," Aang answered hollowly, trying to mask the hurt in his voice as he walked backwards to keep as much distance between him and Ozai as he could. His feet crossed as he walked, circling to always remain near the center of the room, the airbender in him ever wary of getting backed into a corner. "I was nothing more than a weapon to you."
"And look at what a worthless one you've turned out to be!" Ozai fumed. But then he laughed, a great belly sound that held no mirth, only mockery. "Avatar! Master of All Four Elements! And yet all I still see is a scared, ignorant little boy. Coming here and pledging everything to protect a lowly watertribe peasant!"
Aang's attention darted to Katara—she was struggling against the chains, panic etched on her face. Thus far he'd tried to stay as far away from Katara as he could, afraid of getting her caught in the crossfires. But his concern heightened. Ozai knew how much Katara meant to him now. Aang had to get her out of here, fast! But how? Currently he had his shackled hands full just keeping from being burnt to a crisp by Ozai's fire.
"Father!" Aang heard Azula scream as she paced, agitated and wringing her hands on the sidelines. "Please! The Avatar is… confused!"
"Quiet, Azula!" Ozai barked. "I was a fool to think that an Air Nomad could ever amount to anything useful."
At this moment, Ozai suddenly took three running steps towards Aang—each foot jet-bursting fire—and jumped, fire-propelling himself towards Aang. The Firelord brought both his arms downward in a powerful, fiery chop on top of Aang.
Aang brought his bound hands up to block Ozai, but the power of the Firelord's blow knocked Aang down to his knee. An immediate right hook from Ozai cuffed Aang hard in the jaw, snapping his head to the right and leaving a screaming after-sensation of sizzling skin. Stumbling backward to his feet, Aang was immediately knocked down again, each of Ozai's fists leaving burning pain behind them.
"At least one of my worthless sons will be eliminated tonight. Although it's a pity. I'd had such high hopes for you, Aang."
A hard knee to the gut left Aang gasping and doubled over at the waist. Ozai gripped Aang's head, grabbing fistfuls of his hair, and threw him bodily onto the hard marble floor. As he tumbled, skidding to an ungraceful stop, pain erupted everywhere. With his hands still bound, he tried to prop himself up on one elbow, tried to crawl away, but he was disoriented now, and Ozai seemed to be everywhere. The Firelord landed a swift kick to Aang's torso, turning him onto his back once again. Ozai then descended upon him, placing his full weight in one knee on Aang's chest, pinning his chained hands beneath him.
Raising his fist up by his ear, Ozai ignited a white-hot fire-dagger, ready to stab a final, lethal blow. "Now you will join the rest of your people! The last of your worthless race!"
In an instant, Aang's people flashed before him—a surreal pause before death. Aang saw them laughing and teasing while they ate together. Pictured them growing their gardens, caring for the baby bison, and passing on the endlessly circling forms of airbending as the winds swirled in their orange and sunshine colored robes. He heard the resonating hum of their early morning chants, their blue-arrowed brows relaxed in meditation. His people had been a colorful array of individuals, each with both aggravating and endearing traits, but all, in one way or another, seeking a life of peace and enlightenment.
A legacy he would not let die with him.
Aang's eyes snapped to the blinding fire dagger in Ozai's hand, and he sucked in a sharp, precise airbending breath. The dagger in Ozai's hand sputtered and then went out, even as he brought it down in attack.
Aang had stollen the fire's oxygen. A trick Gyatso had taught him long ago for putting out their own camp fires. It had been a game between the two of them, to see if Aang could extinguish the fire, even if Gyatso played defense, feeding the flames while Aang tried to smother them. It had been a very difficult game.
One that now saved Aang's life.
As Ozai's now empty fist stabbed downward, Aang pushed his shoulder blades into the marble floor, earthbending the stone under his back to tilt steeply, flipping his legs upward and his head and shoulders down into the floor. The unanticipated rotation caused Ozai's already forward moving body to launch forward, just as Aang heaved upward under Ozai's knee with his bound hands, throwing the Firelord ungraceful off of him.
With an airbending assist, Aang completed the back-somersault he'd begun and landed on his feet beyond Ozai. Stomping hard on the ground, a fast spike of earth burst from the ground and broke through the chain that held his wrists together. As if in one continuous motion, Aang circled his arms wide to his sides and brought them calmly in front of him, palms forward, all his weight in his back foot, his front knee lifted so that only the toes of that foot still touched the ground.
The Firelord growled and righted himself, pushing up on his hands and knees before shooting bursts of fire from his palms to propel him back up onto his feet. He sank immediately into a fighting pose.
The two of them stood facing one another, the Last Airbender and the Firelord.
Only now, Aang felt no fear.
…