Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar or anything associated with it except my fanfiction

Happy belated New Year! Nothing much to say, except thank you for sticking with me so far! I was not expecting this prequel to last so long, but it's what I got. I'm planning on a real AU to BaSingTei's (or whatever their name is now. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm not great with keeping up.) "Coming Together." It'll be very angsty... Aangsty? I'm not sure, but it will definitely be one crooked and wild ride. Once I ever get to it...

I'm also trying to write a book - probably just going to be some self-published thing on some random free site. It's a dystopian novel about the hot garbage that is a government (no hate on order meant, it's just how it is sometimes...) and how things get distorted over time. Nothing major about except that will be why I'm posting these next chapters so late now.

I digress. Just read and enjoy.

"Really? Again? And this one isn't even as nice-looking as the last one! Ugh... Spirits..."

Zuko found himself trudging through another forest. Again.

He didn't mean to travel this direction. He wanted to go to Ba Sing Se. But the glowering looks from Jet and the Freedom Fighters convinced him otherwise. The heartbroken looks of the villagers he'd unintentionally displaced didn't assuage his feelings of guilt and exclusion, either.

So when things went south - both figuratively and literally - Zuko traveled tirelessly, the mostly refreshing respite in the treetops of what once was Gaipan Forest alleviating the physical stress somewhat, but it had been quite a while since that incident - how many days, he didn't gather - and he found himself stumbling southwards, staying well outside of sight of any village or wanderers on the road, and sleeping in well-concealed depressions in the ground that he had the sneaking feeling were once occupied by others. At times, full of time and energy, he wondered who those people were: what they did for a living, what their schedules were like, what caused them to have to travel the roads and make the shelters, and most of all - feeling a twinge of guilt at the realization that war was likely what caused them to move, what caused them to take shelter far away from others, what caused them to take such drastic measures as to sleep under the ground, far away from any sign of life - except the stray boar-q-pine, which of course just had to give Zuko no end of torment the few unexpected times one popped into his burrow.

Other times though, he was too tired to care, and just dropped his supplies and faceplanted into the dirt. It was unbecoming of his royal upbringing, but whatever. He had shunned that life altogether from the moment he spoke out against his father. What had once been a sessile life with servants for every beck and call - even a palanquin to carry him wherever he pleased - had become a nomadic life where Zuko was forced to sprint, run, trek, jog, or struggle his way through the endless barren landscape filled with nothing but a few patches of trees and hidden dangers that were far more perilous given their scarcity and unpredictability. Zuko longed for something to change, a difference in the lay of the land that showed that he was making progress. Of course, it would also mean it would take him longer to make his way to Ba Sing Se, but he couldn't care less. He welcomed any variation in the dull monotone of his progress, the neverending step forward, that would provide something new and different to his life.

And after many long days of toil, he finally found himself with a change of scenery - a nasty change of scenery. He knew he shouldn't have wished for a change. It was literally a coin flip - the whims of better and worse decided by a mere side glance of Luck. Or Chance. Or whatever Spirit reigned over randomness. The one that made sure Zuko always got the short end of the stick.

But whatever. He asked for a change. He got it. Nothing else to do.

Zuko groaned and wistfully eyed the searing patches of orange and yellow and red that filtered its way through the forest. He glanced down at his waterskin, sagging sadly on his side. He held it up and shook it. A faint sloshing sound trickled its way to his ears. He unscrewed the cap, and pensively looked into the bottle. Nothing but air and a thin layer of liquid on the inside. Zuko was all too painfully aware of the stale irritation of his dry eyes, the annoyance of his cracked lips, and the wooziness of his dehydrated body. He grimaced. If he'd had water, he would have taken the desert. There was no doubt about it. He'd been foraging around in a forest for who-knows-how long, and he longed for a bit of sunlight - a bit of natural warmth and light instead of the fire that fueled him from within. Besides, he would have liked to walk under the flaming orb, experiencing the warm bliss a clear sky with no clouds had to offer. But he was thirsty. And he had no water.

He eyed the new section of forest apprehensively. The foliage had become progressively darker and thicker, protrusions of pointed leaves changing to ones more exotic, vines beginning to drape themselves downward. Zuko frowned, surveying the path ahead of him. He didn't like this. The forest seemed to become more and more forbidding and obstructive the further he ventured into it, and he had no idea how long the path would last. Half of the forest? The next few steps? He sighed and buried his head in his hands. He didn't want this. Why couldn't he just have been born with a little bit of luck so this kind of thing didn't have to happen to him all of the time?

But he needed to move on. He needed to gain ground. He was already behind in progress courtesy of the Gaipan forest episode with his sister, and he had no water and no protection against the overbearing - if very much missed - sun. The thought occurred to him that maybe he could find some sort of stream that might feed the trees where he could drink the water. Or maybe there would be rain in the forest and he could somehow collect it. Both ideas were highly doubtful, but Zuko had no choice.

He took a deep breath and marched forward.


Even though the sun was out, the sky's colors seemed muted. The blue sky wasn't as bright; the trees below took on dingy, sickly sort of green. Sokka's hair stood up - although that was likely due to atmospheric evaporation. He wondered what caused the change. He rubbed his eyes and blinked them multiple times to clear his vision, and then balked at the grey skies above.

It... wasn't sunny?

Sokka, now fully alert, rushed over to the side of the saddle to confirm and repute his observations. Yes, the colors were duller than usual. But there was no blue. Ah well. He'd probably been dozing off before. And now he had justification for his raised hairs - rain was coming.

He took a second look at the forest below. It was nothing like the northern forests he and Aang had passed overhead. Instead of bright, vibrant colors and easily distinguishable leaves on individual trees, the forest appeared to have green. Dark, sickly, disgusting green, but still green. And only green. Sokka saw vines protruding out of the treetops and also some dropping down to what he assumed was the forest floor. The trees became more and more pronounced. Now Sokka could see that the trees were of different sizes, which intrigued him. He thought that trees in similar areas would have sprouted from the ground at similar times and rise to be a similar height. Especially if they were the same type of tree. But then again, he supposed that maybe trees were like humans. Every one unique in an ocean of peers.

The trees became more and more pronounced.

Sokka shook his head and stared. Was it just him, or were the trees... getting bigger and closer?

He snapped his head towards Aang and crept towards him. Aang's head was hanging at an odd downward angle, and Sokka had observed his reigning of Appa enough to know that the gesture he was forming with the reigns right now meant that Appa was descending.

Descending into a large patch of nasty trees that spread in every direction for forever. Not to mention there were vines.

"Um... Aang? You taking us down there for a reason?" Sokka asked tentatively. Sure, the Avatar sometimes went on weird excursions, but something about this time felt extremely off, and unnerved Sokka to no end. It definitely was not related in any way to his frazzled hair. No, that was humidity. This was something else. And he did not like it one bit.

Aang did not respond.

"Um... Aang? Hello? Earth to Aang? It's a wonderful place here. We got Four Nations - kind of - and a nice big fat war coming on that we gotta take care of. Ya wanna join us?" Sokka paused to gauge Aang's response, but the boy did not move from his position. Sokka began feeling a slight queasiness. What could be wrong with Aang? Could it be related to his feelings of trepidation about this place? Two things were for sure. One, he never asked himself this many questions. Two, he needed to wake up Aang, now.

"AANG?"

The airbender snapped the reigns of Appa, causing the bison to bellow and take off to the skies again. Aang shook his head and pressed his hand to his temple. "W-w-what? What just happened? Sokka? Is everything alright?"

Sokka was irked to see that even with Aang brought back, he still didn't choose to figure out his situation. Sokka took a deep breath. Leave him be. "You were bringing Appa down into that forest. It doesn't look very inviting. And when I called you a couple of times, you didn't answer me. I'm just wondering whatever the heck is happening."

Aang looked surprised. "You called my name?"

"Twice, maybe thrice. Or more. Does it really matter? I just wanna know why we're going down there, and you've been acting like you were in the Spirit plane for a moment. I'd like to not be kept out of the loop, y'know, seeing as I'm getting towed along for the ride. Although I do suppose it's my fault in the first place."

Aang suddenly looked guilty, blinking his eyes and guiltily subverting them to the side. "Sokka... maybe you weren't that far off."

"Huh? What? I was just talking about how I looped myself in for this wild expedition across the entire world and odd change, and now you're spouting enigmatic jumbo."

"I meant that I felt that maybe I slipped into the Spirit World!" Aang said loudly, and Sokka snapped his mouth shut. Aang subdued his voice slightly. "I don't know what it was, but I kinda had this strange feeling that the swamp... the swamp was... calling to me." He glanced warily down.

"Calling to you?" Sokka quizzed. He felt a queasy feeling in his stomach gained from all those terrible things that happened for the times Aang was summoned to his Avatar bidding. Appa apparently felt the same, for a low growl was heard for quite some time. "Aang, I'll be honest with you. I get that these calls are always super-duper important, but based on the dangers of responding to spritual fluctuations and the relative irrelevance of their immediate consequences, I'm not entirely sure we should be heading into some weird swamp." Sokka shuddered. "Bad enough that it looks dark and wet and nasty in there. And that's not counting in the fact that some dark mysterious spirit that resides under us is calling to you! And who knows what else could be down there!" Sokka shuddered. "Bad enough that there are beasts and animals and treacherous flora to worry about. And now we have to also take a dark ambiguous spirit into consideration also? I don't know about this Aang. Maybe after the war, when we don't have anything else to worry about, we could visit this place. But... I say we stay clear."

Aang clearly wasn't too pleased about this, but after much persuasion - and Appa's own displeasure at the swamp -, he finally caved in. "Yeah, you're probably right. Maybe some other time... Especially since you all have so strong feelings about this." Momo hissed in agreement. "Woah there, Momo. Don't be so cross with me. Majority rules." He snapped Appa's reins. "Yip yip!"

Appa grumbled, all too relieved at stopping his descent, and flapped his tail. Slowly, they began pulling away from the forest, the trees becoming a muted blur of dark green once again.

Sokka should have felt relieved at this. They were leaving this dark place! They wouldn't be wasting time on some wild spirit venture which left him sharpening his weapons and checking and double-checking all their supplies as well as their maps. Less time moping around doing nothing while Aang embarks on a fruitless journey that turns out to just affirm what they already had. So why did it feel like everything was darkening?

He scanned their surroundings and balked at the funnel closing in on them. "Um... Aang? You might need to add another yip on top of that, because we got a nasty wind funnel coming for us. And it's coming in fast!"

Aang took a look back and paled. "A tornado!" he hissed. "And a huge one too! Appa!" Appa bellowed in terror and immediately brought his legs back and started flapping his tail harder. Sokka belatedly remembered how Aang and Appa were also caught in a fierce storm a hundred years ago, and atheist though he was, he uttered a quick prayer that he wouldn't find himself waking up with a hundred years having passed, his sister gone, and the Fire Nation burning everything to the ground.

Despite Appa's efforts, however, the tornado quickly bridged the seemly comfortable distance between itself and the motley group of boys and beasts. With the hail of wind almost at Appa's tail, the bison made one last desperate bid to escape the storm by swerving to the side, but unexpectedly, the tornado caught this arbitrary move, and soon all Aang and Sokka and Appa and Momo could see was the turbulent gray of the storm.

Sokka was positive they were also screaming, but the tornado drowned that out while it catapulted them all down to the depths below.


Zuko paused for a moment.

He thought he had a heard a wind pick up. The dense indiscernable foliage created the illusion of leaning away from Zuko as though they bowed to some unseen force or power or authority up ahead. Zuko's hair stood on edge. He usually went with his gut, and whatever was happening right now, was causing his gut to shriek with terror. And it wasn't any cowardly gut either, having braved through many trials to find the Avatar. Zuko tentatively took a step back, then another and another, trying to get far away whatever was going on that made him feel so uneasy.

On his fourth step, however, the strange feeling disappeared. Everything returned to normal - well, everything he could see. It was as though nothing had ever happened. In fact, Zuko almost convinced himself that it was just his eyes playing tricks on him when the forest suddenly shifted back upright. Only now did he notice how alone he was. With almost no water. In a dark jungle. With who-knew-what out there.

Zuko fretfully turned around to retrace his steps back to civilazation and visible paths and dangers that could at least be spotted a mile away. He still hadn't found any water, and he'd much rather dehydrate in the open sun where he could see help than bear the irony of dying from lack of water in a jungle. With no one around to help. Maybe some things that were interested in making a feast out of him...

He involuntarily hugged himself with his arms. He wasn't a coward. At least, he didn't think so. He knew that courage came with fear - that was how his Uncle had taught him. Things usually went hand in hand with each other. Courage and Fear. Love and Hate. Tea and Uncle Iroh. Creation and Destruction. Except here, in the jungle, for the first time Zuko understood that he was truly alone. No Uncle to help out. No strangers that could offer anything of assistance. No friends. And now, no path back.

But then he remembered, that his destiny wasn't to backtrack his actions. It was to change. To move forward.

Perhaps that was what the jungle was telling him. He tentatively brought his arms down, unsheathed his swords, and advanced through the brush. As he began making the mechanical motions of cutting off any organic obstruction in his path, he wondered what this place was exactly. It was almost like it had a mind of its own... Zuko shuddered at the thought. This was an entity that far overshadowed the small person, albeit firebender, Zuko was, and it could snuff him out as easily a suffocating cover did a candle. He almost felt the trees leaning in towards him, as though entrapping him in a cage of thorny death, with no escape in sight from the wrath of the forest. Zuko cursed himself for ever thinking about entering the forest. And his luck. He could burn the Spirit of Luck and end up in a better position than he was in at the moment. He rufully wished destiny didn't always treat him so.

A small but strong voice in Zuko's mind animated. But Zuko, think more realistically. Would a forest be out to get you?

Zuko shook his head. No, it wasn't likely. Trees and vines didn't normally move on their own. Not to mention, if the forest wanted to wipe him out of existence, it would have done so long ago.

Still not trusting of the forest, he increased his pace, jogging along while his swords flashed like violent clockwork.


Aang tumbled through the air, unconscious, graceful, his robes billowing out in the wind as he sank through the now calmer skies.

His life flashed before him. Squeals of delight as an infant. Choosing four toys. Pie-making and throwing with his mentor. Being named the new Avatar based on the toys he'd chosen. Work. Misery. Desperation as he flew away on Appa. Then the darkening of the skies, and a storm, and screaming, and falling, falling, falling...

His eyes suddenly opened, and he alerted himself to his surroundings. He was falling. He was falling through the sky. But he wasn't falling over an ocean. The skies weren't a murky black. He supplanted himself from the Southern Air Temple to the Earth Kingdom a hundred years later. Falling. There wasn't much he could fix about the storm that doomed his entire race. It was a long gone catastrophe. But falling over the land, with no storm to smite him down? No problem. He could airbend himself out of this. The forest he was going to land in, though, was an entirely different creature to contend with.

Truth be told, he had agreed with Sokka. He didn't like the forest at all. Too dark, to constricting and suffocating with its endless mass of disgustingly dark green, not to mention it would ground everyone and make it difficult for Appa and Aang to take to the skies again. Sokka would be trapped for the ride, and Aang seriously doubted Momo would be able to help much. Even if Momo could properly communicate a place for them to escape to, there was no way they'd be able to find each other again in the massive forest again... especially when looking from above, which would be the only place to scout out an escape.

Speaking of lost... Where was everyone?

Aang angled himself so that he could clearly see the trees, his arms limply hanging. He wished he had his staff with himself, snorting in disgust at the calamity they experienced. Nothing but wind and screams lost to shrieks of the supernatural, then flung out and falling.

But where was everyone?

He looked around. There was no one in sight. Where could they go? Did they finish falling earlier? Were they really scattered so far apart? Or - Aang felt a pang of fear and guilt and regret - did they perish? All for some weird spirit flux that the prepubescent Avatar happened to sense?

He shook his head. No. They wouldn't be dead. They couldn't. Momo would simply fly. Appa could weather a hard impact. Sokka... Sokka was resourceful. He'd make it out.

So that left him. He knew individually, he'd be fine. He was the Avatar. He'd mastered half of the elements, and although he couldn't bend the earth, he knew water would prove infinitely useful in the jungle. Hopefully, he'd land near some water and be able to make his way out of this mess.

But where was everyone? And how could he find them?

An inspiration struck him. He fumbled about in his robes. Laying long forgotten in his robes, he remembered a long, thin instrument that could be invaluable to reuniting them all. Fingers scrabbled onto the object, and he pulled it out in ecstasy. "Well, well, what do you know?" Aang said, pleased. "This turns out to be mighty useful sometimes!"

He inhaled as deeply as he could, and airbent all the air in his lungs into the bison whistle.


Appa bellowed as he heard the whistle.

He had fallen flat onto his belly, creating a large splash. Momo came fluttering down soon after, landing on top of Appa's saddle and fiercely berating the bison for soaking the lemur thoroughly.

Appa didn't care. He growled in response, quieting Momo. He had heard a loud shrill blast that could only mean one thing: Aang. And the bison whistle. That was two things, but it all meant Aang. And Aang was calling Appa. Which meant Aang needed Appa.

Appa growled, and immediately shot off to the skies. He groaned in dismay, however, when he found himself slowing down and then shooting back down to the ground, then laying suspended in air by a bunch of lines. He roared in annoyance. This would take away so much energy and time. He didn't want that. He wanted his airbender back. He mournfully lowed. It would be the first time that Appa and Aang were unwillingly separated by some unseen force. Nevermind those little missions Aang would take - they would always reunite. But as he lay hanging, Appa feared he would never see his boy again.

Suddenly, he felt a creature skitter across his back. He grit his teeth, ready to cast off whatever was further aggravating him in this irritating moment - when he heard something being gnawed and an audible snap that brought Appa down slightly. He realized it was Momo that was trying to undo the trap Appa was in, and - out of relief and haste - he grumbled to goad Momo into freeing him up faster.

Rope by rope, Appa was slowly set free, until finally he came back down to the ground with a resounding splash. Appa realized that he had made a splash and looked down. He was thirsty. But he bared his teeth and reared up when he saw the murky waters. He didn't know what was in it, and didn't want anything to impede him. Besides, he had Aang to find.

Appa tensed his legs, and Momo hurriedly scurried onto the saddle. Appa sprang up into the air - only to find himself trapped in more ropes - which he could now discern to be vines from the tree branches.

Momo chittered, and Appa roared in frustration. As Momo started eating at the vines yet again, Appa reluctantly realized that they would have to travel on foot.

Who knew how long it would take them to find someone to help them, let alone Aang, in this crowded wilderness.


Sokka screamed as he smacked into the water.

Sure, it might have cushioned his fall slightly, but it hurt so much. It felt like he'd been slapped repeatedly with a sealskin in the face over and over again. He grumbled, realizing he had learned something new about the limitations of nonbenders but at the same time realizing he had been on the receiving end of the test.

He glared dolefully at his surroundings. Brush, brush, and more brush. And no Aang or Appa or Momo in sight. Great. He sighed and got his club up. Looked like the constant whetting was going to prove its usefulness.

Grabbing the club with both hands to add more strength, he heaved and hemmed and hawed as he cut down the branches and vines in his way. Belatedly, he realized he should have tried to make sense of his surroundings and trace his path from where the tornado had chucked him, in order to regroup with the others, but it was too late. Besides, if he continued in this fashion, he'd be able to find his way out of this dark landscape. The only question would be how long it would take.


Zuko stared sullenly at the water.

It was dark and murky and had residues of things Zuko knew he didn't want to identify. But he was thirsty. So he scrunched up his nose, scooped his canteen in the water, did his best to try and filter out the gunk, and quickly brought the container to his mouth.

Disgusting though it was, he didn't remember the last time water tasted so good.

He chugged through the entire container of water, refilled another, emptied that one out also, and then refilled the skin one last time. Already he had regained enough sense to notice the nasty aftertaste of the water in his mouth. But whatever. Water was water.

He was sure he'd regret it later though.

He made his way through the swamp, relieved at not having to cut any more plants down. Doing so kept him on edge, as though he was performing some sort of unforgivable crime against the forest. All his senses were warning him something was off, but he'd managed to stop. He sent a silent apology to the forest, and made his way against the stream, reasoning that it would eventually lead him to some high ground where he could make out where exactly he was.

He froze when he heard a bellow. A distinctive bellow that would have cut fear into Zuko's heart had he not instinctively been used to the sound beforehand. "Is that... a flying bison?" Zuko whispered in disbelief. Then he shook his head. "Nah. Definitely not. And besides, Sokka and Aang are probably in one of the Earth Kingdom cities learning earthbending, or at the very least making their way to Ba Sing Se. No way they'd be trekking through a southern jungle right now." He then stopped to stoop and glare at his own reflection. "Really now, Zuko!" He chided himself. "Talking to yourself now! Azula's mentality is starting to get to you!"

"Also not a great way to socialize with others, Zu-Zu. Although I never did mind it myself. You were cute talking to yourself. And I guess you don't really like being called Zu-Zu."

Zuko jumped up, wondering if the water or previous dehydration had gotten into his system, and hastily checked his surroundings to make sure nothing alive was actually there. So he cried out in shock when only a short distance away from him an ethereal girl with a royal dress. Her hair was pulled back into - Zuko didn't even know what to call it. Fashion never really interested him. But the girl's hair was drawn back into a pom pom on either side of her head, with two ribbons of hair cascading down her neck. Her elegant eyebrows were raised in a slanted amusment, and her lips were curled in a signature half-smirk that Zuko was always fascinated with. Her arms were held daintily by her sides, but Zuko knew better - if she was her, then she'd be wearing pants under her Ao Dai dress for better mobility, and have concealed knives all over her body.

Zuko couln't believe it. "M-Mai?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Hello, Zuko. Fancy meeting you here. Father's been named governor of Omashu. You heard, haven't you? We managed to take the second-greatest city of the Earth Kingdom in one glorious siege. Of course, what really happened was that they surrendered without a fight - for what reason, I don't know or care - but I'm here now, I guess. Closer to you? I have no idea." She twisted a wrist, and a knife suddenly shot out, likely from a well-concealed fold in her unassuming sleeve. She twirled it experimentally, looking at it in much the same way as Zuko surmised he looked at her sometimes. But this calm reflection was interrupted when Mai suddenly cocked her head as though listening in the far distance, and scowling. She grabbed onto the knife with the tip of her fingers, and sighed. "Ugh. Time to act like a freaking posh lady again." She studied her reflection in the knife, paying no heed to the petrified man. "I hate being like this." She turned the knife over, and seemingly tucked it back to wherever it came from when she seemed to think better. "Hate. I wish I was allowed to use that word more... Whatever." She lazily flicked her hand, and Zuko involuntarily ducked at the knife flipping lazily well above his head. He quickly righted himself, mind bubbling with questions - but when he set his eyes where he saw her last, the apparition of Mai was gone as suddenly and quickly as it had came.

"W-what just happened?" muttered Zuko. "Oh Spirits... I miss her. A nice, gloomy, peaceful, supportive anchor in a world of fire and crazy. And her knives. Wish I knew how to do that stuff. Then again, it's more of a concealing business, and I suck at that stuff." He glanced wistfully at where ghost-Mai had stood, and he shrugged. "I guess I gotta get a move on if I want out of this place. Because that was -" the reality suddenly hit him. He was seeing dubious images in a dark forest with no sense of time, direction, or space. His hair rose, and he fearfully eyed every corner of the forest he could see. When all seemed clear - or at least dormant - he hastily brought his swords back up, and warily forged onward, but this time spinning slowly around to make sure all sides were accounted for. He knew he looked stupid, but he was alone, and he would rather look silly staying alive than be proven silly when dead.

"Speaking of crazy..."

Thoughts whirled inside his brain: Mai? Omashu? Governor? Earth Kingdom? Spirit stuff? Apparitions? What was happening in the world? What was happening here? And what was that weird sound he heard earlier? He didn't know, save for one thing.

He did not want to go down in this place.

As though the forest had read his mind, he saw tendrils of deep blackness racing towards him on his right. With a chill, he realized the tendrils were thin, thorny vines that curled as though anticipating a catch. A catch that happened to be a firebender in an alien environment. Zuko had a feeling that he did not want to get caught by those vines. Besides, they looked painful. And even if Gaipan Forest hadn't happened, he just knew something bad would happen if he decided to burn down another forest, let alone one this bizarre.

He tentatively tried attacking the vines to stave them off, but they were stronger than he had expected. He found himself caught in a fierce struggle with one of the vines grabbing hold of the handle of his sword. But even as he pulled back as hard as he could, he knew it was a losing fight. Whatever had decided to latch onto his blade, wasn't keen on releasing its iron-like vise. And other vines were snaking their way to him. He bit his lip. The sword was a unique weapon, one half of a pair. He had wielded it since his early childhood, from a shaky, weak beginning to a skilled, practiced swordsman. The swords had been with him through thick and thin, even through scrapes and travels and - and the explosion that took his crew. It was his last remnant of his life. But he had no choice.

His hand slipped, and as the vine yanked the blade out of his hand and dragged it back into the dark unknown, he turned around and ran the other way, cradling his remaining sword with both hands.


Aang stumbled along, glumly trying to find a break in the trees where he could get up into the sky and get some bearings on his position in the wacky forest.

His landing was rather uneventful - cushioning the air so that his feet merely dipped gradually into the swampwater rather than splashing and getting him soiled all over. He smugly gloated over this small victory until he realized that in cushioning his fall and manipulating the airflow, he likely ended up drifting even further away from the others. He pursed his lips and was tempted to curse. But he realized that self-berating would only take away time that could be used to find his friends. And he had no idea where they were.

He quickly scanned his surroundings. Without the sunlight breaching the canopies, the swamp was a dark and dreary dungeon. A thin fog blanketed the air - obstructive to vision but conducive to Aang's bending - and he was unable to see more than a stone's throw away from himself. He blasted the fog away from himself, but quickly realized the futility in the maneuver when the fog simply condensed and trapped him in a cyclone of solid grey. He needed visibility. So he grudgingly walked out of his pristine sphere and found himself back in the fog. Considering the massive amount of foliage blocking out the sky, the trees were scarce, further than a jump away from each other in some places. Instead, brush and dead stumps of wood jutted out of the ground, forging a crooked path to nowhere.

Despite the deadened nature of the wood, the swamp it was far from vapid. Aang felt goosebumps on his skin as the misty fog brushed his bare skin, and felt a twinging feeling of muted alarm sounding silently. He felt uneasy. "Hello?" Aang asked.

"Hello?" the swamp echoed back. Aang hung his head. Calling out wouldn't do him any good. They were too far away, the enigma of the land too mystical and encompassing to broach directly. But there weren't many choices.

Suddenly, the air glowed. Whiteness flooded his vision. He blinked, unaccustomed to the light, and then opened his eyes. There was nothing in front of him. No sign of life or movement. He turned around. And gasped.

He saw them. Gyatso. Pasaang. His friends. The nuns. The monks. The bison. Anything and everything he lost. The airbenders and the creatures were all standing, watching the Avatar. And as Aang looked more and more closely, he realized that the jungle was fading away, drowned out by the light. He was standing on a mountain, on an Air Temple. It was all a dream! His people were still alive. There was no war. Everyone was safe. Everyone was there. Aang let out a joyous cry, a tear in his eye, and reached out a hand toward Gyatso, who smiled, twinkling eyes almost beckoning Aang forward.

But when he touched Gyatso's robes, it all disappeared. He found himself outstretched in from of blackened spikes of the remnants of trees. It was all an illusion. There was nothing left.

He'd lost everything.

A soft glow emanated from the right, not the pure, harsh light from before, but a warm illumation. It was weaker than before, but it was there. And Aang, daring not to hope, slowly turned.

He saw a girl. A girl with a tattered blue necklace. A girl with a parka and lush brown hair and brilliant blue eyes and a smile for the boy. Aang simply stood there, stunned. The image shimmered, and the girl raised a mitten-enveloped hand, and shyly said, "Hello." A endearing, bright, sparkling voice Aang desperately missed.

Aang wasn't able to respond back in time, and when he finally recovered the use of his voice, the girl disappeared. He broke down sobbing, sinking into the dirty, wet swamp, not knowing or caring anymore. His people were gone. His life was gone. His world was gone. But he was okay with that. He didn't even feel sorry.

Katara was everything to him.


Sokka hacked through the vines, muttering and cursing under his breath. Curse Avatar Spirit shenanigans. Look where it landed them! In the forest, almost no way out, and now at this rate it would take another hundred years to reach Ba Sing Se and request help!

He shook his head. The forest was creeping him out. He didn't understand how or why, but something made him grip his club a little tighter, swing a little harder, and move a little faster. He didn't feel right. It might have been only a psychological response to the creepy forest, but he didn't like it nonetheless.

A shrill human scream split the air, and Sokka cringed. He was scared. He didn't feel bad to admit it. The whole place was off. Not to mention...

"Aang?" He called out. He received nothing but his voice back. "AANG?"

The world was silent save for his wading and persistent hack-and-slash. He eyed his surroundings warily. It was only trees, dead trees, and rivers, with nothing in sight.

A small bird suddenly glided to a branch. It was a white, rather plump bird with a perpetuating grumpy face and black eyespots. Suddenly, its beak hinged wide, and it let out the ear-splitting shriek Sokka heard only moments before.

After a moment of hesitation, Sokka giggled in relief. "See? You weren't much. Just a bird with a weird call. That's all."

Suddenly, a vine shot out from nowhere, and smacked the bird. It furled around the bird, as good as crushing it, and then dragged it back to the depths.

Sokka stared with wide eyes, and began swinging faster at the brush. His internal alarms were screaming, but he didn't care. The sooner he got out of this place, the better, nevermind his overacting heart and mind. "Ugh. I hate this. What's happening here? It's not scientific. Even for Spirits, this place is a little crazy."

"Well, the Spirits are crazy sometimes, aren't they, Sokka? I mean, look at the Moon Spirit. Tui was once a resident of the Spirit World, but then crossed over into the mortal world and is now peacefully swimming in the Spirit Oasis. Not to mention, she's the reason I'm still alive and engaged to you, Sokka."

Light flashed into existence. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, Sokka had to do a double take to realize what he was seeing. "Y-Y-Yue?" he stammered. "W-w-what in the - wait." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "This isn't real. The real Yue is in the North Pole. You're just a hallucination."

The apparition of Yue, clothed in pure white garment, simply shrugged and smiled. "I'm not too sure about that, Sokka. I know that I was taking a short respite in the day and decided to sit and watch the koi in the Spirit Oasis. Father is pleased, you know, that I'm engaged to you. He really likes you, not to mention this could unite the two Water Tribes together."

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Please, wife-to-be, spare me the politics."

Yue covered her smiled with her hands and giggled. "Very well. But all I'm saying is, I know that I'm at the Spirit Oasis. Last I heard, however, you were supposed to head straight for Ba Sing Se to seek an audience with the king. Is that not right?"

"Well, that's what we were supposed to do, but -"

"So then can you please explain to me why you are in such a strange forest with muck and treacherous paths, which happens to be nowhere near the proper path to Ba Sing Se?" Sokka opened his mouth and scowled when he couldn't think of a comeback. Yue didn't even have the decency to hide her smile. "I thought so."

Sokka growled in exasperation. "Hmph. I still don't believe you. But if you do happen to be real, you're lucky you're so beautiful with that attitude of yours. When did you get so rebellious?"

Yue tilted her head. "In your words, you were lucky enough to be noticed by me. I don't understand what's changed since then."

"... I'm going to faceplant in this river and drink it dry."

"Don't do that, dear. You'd only get yourself sick over nothing. And it's disgusting too."

"... how would you know?"

"I don't. I just have this strange feeling. Like this place. It's almost like a dream... do you know where exactly you are?"

"... no. Somewhere south of Omashu. By the way, we lost the city."

Yue looked shocked. "No!"

Sokka grimly nodded. "Not too long ago - there's no way news would get to the North Pole so quickly. The king just surrendered, basically saying now was not the time to fight and to wait and listen. He also told Aang to get an earthbending teacher that followed those principles. So... yeah. Here we are."

Yue did not respond to this, only nodding in understanding. "Yue... I don't know if you're real or not, but... it was nice talking to you. It was nice having someone listen to me, and... ugh." he groaned. "I'm getting so touchy-feely right now. But... I really appreciate you, and I think you already know this, but you're my foundation and support, and I love you."

Yue blushed. "Thanks Sokka. I love you too." She stopped smiling. "Zhao's a husk of his former self. He's unable to firebend properly, as we put him in an ice cell with countless waterbending guards watching over him. I talk with him sometimes. He's a ruined man." she said sadly. "Of course, that's not something you're concerned with, but..." she sighed. "I'm sorry. I wish I could do more for you."

"You don't have to keep anything from me, Yue," Sokka reassured. "And you are the best, sweetest, most beautifulest, annoying -" he widened his eyes in emphasize on this last word, and Yue dissolved into laughs. Good. He still had his sense of humor. "- most perfect woman ever," he said admiringly. "I honestly don't even know if I'm exaggerating... especially the annoying part." Yue lost her poise and was holding her stomach in her laughter. Sokka felt fondness and love for Yue. She was everything to him, and he was glad she was here to commiserate with him...

He frowned. "Wait a minute. Why am I acting like you were real?"

Yue smiled softly. "Maybe because it was. But it could also all have been your imagination. No matter what, remember that you are the one who is in charge of yourself and what you believe." Slowly, Yue faded away, until all that was left was a dead tree trunk where Yue had stood.

Sokka shook his head. "Fancy hallucinating," he muttered. He tossed his head and went about his way. But then, a few steps in, he turned wistfully back, remembering the conversation he had with her. "Although if it was real..." he surmised thoughtfully.

He started whistling as he carved a path for himself.


Zuko didn't stop. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

Taking this path proved to be far worse than he'd imagined. Horrible water that made his stomach churn, an endless pit of fear in his gut, and alone with no sun. He didn't like it. He would have preferred dehydration out in the sand. At least his final moments would be under the warm sun than in this humid, cold excuse of a jungle

He hadn't seen the vines for a while now. They'd receded back into the darkness, but Zuko didn't want to take any chances of them circling around to cut him off while he let his guard down. So he persisted.

He slowed his pace to a walk after the jungle began to grow less and less dim. Zuko could make out weird shapes on trees - distorted branches, angular tree trunks, Zuko was reminded faintly of a description of the Spirit World his Uncle once gave him.

If it weren't for the fact that even his worse nightmares had never lasted more than a few hours - let alone days and weeks - Zuko would have been convinced all of this was a bad dream.

But it wasn't. And so he pressed on.

His foot snagged on a root, and he only had a split second to scold himself for not being more attentive before he came crashing down onto the river. Closer inspection of the water he had just consumed showed a murky, stagnant stream with bits of brown and black floating around. They were too thick to be leaves. Zuko assumed they were branches. They had to be.

He shook his head, sputtering, and propped himself up. He shakily stood to his feet and looked up. His heart stopped.

He had always hoped that his Uncle had escaped. The crew might not have stood a chance in the raging inferno that claimed everything Zuko had, but his Uncle Iroh... he was a master firebender, and a distinguished one at that. Despite everything, Zuko still hoped that maybe, somehow, some way, his Uncle was still alive.

The wispy projection of his Uncle calmly sipping tea and smiling on Zuko dispelled his hopes. How stupid to even try. Zuko's eyes burned as he desperately tried to hold back tears.

"Wha-? Zuko? What is the matter? Where is this? Where are you? You seem to be lost, and... nephew, are you crying?"

Once upon a time, Zuko would angrily snap back and furiosly deny that he was capable of showing such raw, vulnerable emotion. That was when he thought he'd lost everything. But in reality, he had never really lost what he had, as he never received the attention and affection he ever wanted from his family besides his ever-doting Uncle - but this he had always taken for granted, and easily cast aside. Now, he was aware of his actions, and of the good fortune that gave him such a wise, loving Uncle, and now... here he was, an intangible being that no longer existed.

"Yes," Zuko admitted. "I'm crying."

Iroh smiled softly. "Good. It is never a weakness to cry, and shows you are capable of emotion and feeling. To feel is one of the greatest strengths of all, for to feel is to empathize and to understand. Of course, never forget that tea might perhaps be the most valuable of them all." Iroh walked to a nearby tree root that stood just above the swamp water, sat down, and made a fire that seemingly floated in the air. He conjured a kettle of tea out of nowhere, and proceeded to set it over the fire. "Care for some?"

Zuko frowned. "Would I really be able to accept it? You aren't really here after all, since... you know..."

Iroh raised his eyebrows at Zuko, then recognition dawned on him. "Oh! You... you think I am dead, do you not?" Zuko nodded. Iroh frowned. "Alas, that is not the case. I wish I would be able to see my Lu Ten once again, guilty though I feel at admitting this to you and at leaving you in this fraught world. But in the moments of the inferno that engulfed the ship, I wished exactly that. But Destiny is a very funny thing." He sighed, and checked the kettle. Steam was issuing forth from the orifices of the dainty ceramic. Iroh nodded, and returned his attention to Zuko. "But by pure instinct and reaction - something that war inevitably implants in you - I conjured up a hasty fire shield that blocked enough of the flames to keep me alive. Terribly injured, burned even, but alive. That weasel-snake Zhao!" he suddenly barked, startling Zuko. "I am sorry, nephew. But a man with no respect for life does not deserve to be put in charge of lives. I hope the Spirits drag him into the Fog of Lost Souls for all eternity." he grimaced. "Maybe too much of a punishment. But one that wouldn't be entirely arbitrary."

"Zhao's been detained by the North Pole, Uncle," Zuko blurted. "He tried to kill the Moon Spirit, but I defeated him in an Agni Kai."

Iroh blinked in surprise. "Is that so, nephew? Zhao has turned out to be more ruthless and unforgivable than I perceived! I must congratulate you, on keeping the balance in the world, and for stopping that madman." Iroh turned his head in shame. "To think that such a person was bred from our Nation brings disgust and shame to my bosom." The tea kettle whistled, and Iroh, taking note of this, took the kettle off the fire and proceeded to pour the contents into two cups. "Green Tea. It isn't my usual fare, but sometimes the best things in life are the simplest." Iroh offered a cup, and Zuko grudgingly reached out, half expecting his hands to go through. To his surprise, he was able to grip the sides of the corporeal cup, and when he brought it to his lips, he could taste the elegance of the tea his Uncle had always brewed while he was around. "Not bad, eh?" Iroh said, pleased with himself.

"How... how am I able to drink this? Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, and also, I've been without proper hydration for a long while, but... how am I able to grab this?" Zuko squinted suspiciously. "Not to mention you said you weren't dead. How are you here, then?"

Iroh smiled mysteriously. "Ah, nephew, sometimes help comes from where you least expect it. Now, to properly answer your question, I am not entirely sure what is happening. Perhaps this place you are in is connected to the Spirits, and I was able to connect with you through spiritual meditation. At least, I think that's what I was doing. Maybe... I don't know. Hmm. That's odd," Iroh said frowning. "I do not know what I am doing."

Zuko hastily stood up. "Wait. That makes no sense! If you were meditating, you were meditating! If you're napping or sleeping, then that's what you're doing! If - Spirits forbid - you're still unconscious from that wreck, I'm pretty sure you'd know, or that you'd be able to inform me as much! What is going on?"

When Zuko said his last four words, the vision of his Uncle stretched and shimmered, then suddenly winked out of existence. The cup vanished from his hands. He was plunged into twilight once more.

Zuko blinked, and shook his head. Starting out slow and subtle, his shaking crescendoed into a fierce, spastic tremor that nearly brought him to his knees. He had been manipulated, played. Was the forest sentient? If so, it was a foul, wicked entity who had no compassion nor empathy for whoever set one step into its treacherous holding. It had caused Zuko to despair, then hope, and then despair once more. He spitefully glared at the trees through his tears, and shouted, "I hate you, forest!" Smoke issued from his nostrils, further polluting the air and making it harder to see. In fact, seething with anger at having his feelings manipulated, he almost failed to catch a slight movement to the side.

A vine.

Zuko wasted no time in taking off, screaming in anger and fear, only barely restraining himself from wildly swinging his sword about. He couldn't help but notice, however, that his stomach felt uncharacteristically full and nourished.


Thock. Thock.

Sokka's arms were growing weary. They felt so stiff and heavy and wooden that Sokka wondered if eventually he would stop from pure exhaustion and become one with the trees. The path ahead was a neverending enigma of dangers and scratches and pricks from unruly cut branches and thorns that managed to fly back onto Sokka.

He had no idea where he was. The swamp floor looked much the same. The water remained as murky and shallow as always. Apersistent squelching accompanied Sokka as he trudged his way to someplace different. He had no idea where to turn or go, but he was certain that eventually he would find a way out. He was probably getting further and further away from Aang and Appa and Momo, but no matter. They were likely doing the same as he was, and likely they'd be pathing significantly faster than a nonbender with a club as a machete.

All the same, he was lost. And he wasn't at all immune to reality. He had almost no water, but was not yet in a condition to be desperate enough to quell his thirst with swamp water. For a moment, he wished that he'd never left the safety of his home. Finding his father seemed like a more and more distant dream with every leg of the Avatar's journey. Although the company was nice.

"Yeah, the company might be nice, but then what does that leave me with, Sokka?" Katara's vision appeared before Sokka. She was dressed in her typical blue parka, although bleached white by whatever had brought her imitation into this forsaken place. Sokka noticed that she had their mother's necklace around her neck again, although noticeably tattered and worn, likely from Aang's many misadventures with the necklace. But that was not Sokka's concern. If this Katara was anything like Yue's apparition - as in, faithfully depictive of the real her - then Sokka was into some deep blubber. He cringed, half-expecting the fake-Katara to give him a piece of her mind at how much of a meathead he could be, how horrible it was to leave their tribe behind, to shirk his responsibilities as the temporary chief of their home.

Instead, she looked almost mournfully at him, as though she had witnessed his death and relived it over and over in her mind, much in the way she did with their mother. This in fact, was worse. Sokka felt the sick churning of white, hot guilt. He tried to apologize. "Sis, I... I didn't mean..."

"Why did you leave me?" Katara murmured, a tear sliding down her cheeks. "I'm so alone. And... and..." she touched her necklace, then grabbed it fiercely. "Just... why?" she keened out in anguish, not acknowledging Sokka's presence.

"No... Katara... Katara!" she did not react to him. "Katara... I don't know if you can hear me... I'm sorry! I'm so sorry I left you! Trust me, I regret leaving you! And our village and our home! I don't know what I was thinking. I-I-"

She finally fixed her gaze on him. "Then why didn't you come back?" she sighed. "Never mind. Just your usual infuriating brainless self again." She hung her head. "I miss you. And... well... the North's here. They're reconstructing our home. Pakku's with Gran-Gran now. And here... well, it's quite a change, and one for the better." Katara's face momentarily brightened, a sign of her overbearing compassion, but that gesutre quickly faded to apathy. "But I'm alone, with the biggest burden of chores gone. I won't exactly be missing washing your socks, but -" she gesticulated in the air. "Waterbending training isn't the same. They say I'm a natural at it. That I'm gifted. I think it's a curse. Because even though I've always wanted to learn about the element that defined our lives -" she stopped to shake her head. "It's too easy. Too effortless. I'm left alone with my thoughts. And... and..." she opened her mouth as though to say something else, but her wraithlike form was struck by some unseen, unfelt wind, and Sokka was left alone.

Sokka trembled. He had never felt so raw, so exposed. He didn't understand why or how the manifestations of those he loved came to be, nor how they so effortlessly cut down the defenses to his heart. This was a swamp. Not some spirit mind-reading amalgamation.

Or was it?

Sokka's arms forgot their weariness in the numbing mechanization of his movements.

Boing. Boing. Boing.

"Hurry up, Due! We can't let our meal get away now, can we?" The mention of the word "meal" sent Appa into a frenzy, and he redoubled his efforts to escape the strange people who didn't seem to use the word "meal" as in giving some apples to Appa.

Appa had been wading through the river, Momo perched on his back. Strange things had winked in and out of existence. One had almost looked like another bison, but when he had turned his head up to look, there was nothing. His feeling of loneliness was both alleviated and exacerbated by the hyperactive lemur, who kept chittering at sporadic intervals and generally providing Appa with a stable, if annoying, presence.

Suddenly, they had stumbled upon some people. They did not wear much, with wrappings around their ankles and wrists, some jewelry and armbands, a cloth suspended over their hips, and giant symmetrical leaves serving as hats - for what purpose was lost on Appa. There was no rain anywhere for him to lick, and it didn't look like any came in through the thick trees that left Appa no break to take flight. The men sat in long, simple wooden canoes, and there were two men to each canoe. They looked harmless and relaxed enough.

Still, he had paused warily, unsure of whether the strange men were friend or foe. Could they possibly know where Aang was? Would they be nice and treat the beast and the monkey hospitably, or would a far worse fate await them if they fell into the men's hands?

He had his answer soon enough. A lanky man with a long neck had turned to look at his partner, a fat and short man with an outstanding beard shadow and what looked like a frown that Appa did not like. "Look at that Tho. Is that a little hairy fella ridin' that thing?"

Frowning Man had shook his head. "No, that's what they call a 'lemoo'. Saw one at a traveling show once. Real smart they say." Appa's ears perked up at this. If the humans knew how smart Momo was, maybe they would take kindly to the lonely animals.

Then Tall Man said, "Bet he tastes a lot like possum chicken," licking his licks in anticipation.

Frowning Man threw his arms up. "You think everything tastes like possum chicken."

Tall Man shrugged, and said, "What? Possum chicken tastes good. C'mon now, fellas." With mounting horror, Appa realized the men were not going to feed them apples and peaches as Tall Man moved forward in his boat. "Just a little closer," Tall Man crooned. "Nice and easy. Nothing to worry about. We just fixin' to eat ya."

That was all Appa needed. At the sound of the word "eat", he quickly turned around, smacked the water with his tail, and took off. In his need for haste, he airbent himself out of the water, and began skipping across the water in order to escape the Tall Man and Frowning Man and their friends who had come to eat him and Momo.

Unfortunately, the splash he had created with his tail did not deter his pursuers in the slightest, as the swamp people managed to block it to the sides. Waterbenders. Chasing a sky bison in a swamp with no way to fly. Appa started bounding faster.

Tho glared at Due. "What'd you say that fer?"

Due shrugged. "Well, we are!"

"Doesn't mean you have to tell it to 'em."

"Well, was I really supposed to know that they'd understand me?"

Tho opened his mouth to reply, then realized that given the paradox Due had introduced by trying to appease the animals and yet not expecting them to understand his intent made it pointless to try to argue some sense into his friend. "Come on!" he said. "We got dinner to catch!"

Due put an arm straightforward, the other one back, and then stiffly began to spin his arms around. The water followed Due's movements, and their boat suddenly rose as a small wave lifted their boat up and began racing down towards the sky bison.

They had been going for a long time. Appa was getting tired, but so were the strange waterbenders who wanted to eat him. Momo had tried putting up a fight by throwing the items in their saddle, but the swampbenders merely caught the stuff and put it in bags. Eventually, Momo's energy caught up with him, and he got smacked by a low tree branch, and tumbled down and back. He landed right in the midst of a waiting burlap sack, where he was promptly tied up and cast into the boat. This only made Appa run harder. He didn't want to end up like his friend.

Aang stumbled along, not paying attention to his surroundings.

He was consumed on thoughts of Katara. How she was doing, how waterbending was going, how Kanna and Pakku were doing, how the reconstruction of the South Pole went, anything and everything even remotely pertaining to her, was what consumed his mind.

Above all, however, he felt a sense of guilt at not being able to do anything about ending the war, without a way out of the forest, let alone a way to find an earthbending master who, in the words of Bumi, "waited and listened."

He was lost.

He had failed.

He was snapped out of his miserable reverie by the sound of mischievous giggling. He snapped his head up, and saw a girl on a hill without trees - a phenomenon in the swamp. Even for an apparition, her dress was unusually white. Tinges of yellow danced around the dress. Her hair was tied up in a high, sophisticated-looking bun, and the air around her spoke of a prim and proper and delicate woman. But there was something else about her... something... unusual. Even more unusual than the flying pig that happened to be next to her, that took off and flew away to some unknown direction. The girl brought her sleeved hands to her mouth, and the same giggle echoed to Aang again.

"Hello? Who are you?" Aang bravely ventured. The girl took no heed of him, merely giggling and turning around to run off. Aang gaped in disbelief. What was happening? Didn't the girl hear him? "Hey!" he shouted. The girl's laughter rang throughout the clearing, and her form disappeared into the fog. Aang decided that the girl had noticed him and was simply beckoning him to follow her.

"Hey! Wait up! Come back!" he cried, throwing out a hand as though to stop her, to grab her, to try and find out who she was and what was happening.

When he ran up to the hill, he scanned the surrounding swamp for any signs of the girl. Nothing. Only water and trees. Aang shook his head. Figures. It was only his imagination.

He heard the laughter again. He whipped around, and saw the girl running across a tree branch. "There you are!" Aang shouted triumphantly. He landed onto the branch. The giggling came from another direction. He turned and tried to spot the girl across the treetops, almost missing the flash of white that ran alongside the floor where the tree he was on stood. He quickly leapt off, and a game of elusive tag ensued, with Aang desperately trying to keep up with the girl's antics and trying to figure out what she was. A spirit? Maybe it could show him the way out!

Despite what seemed to be the spirit's best efforts to throw Aang off her scent, Aang was able to deftly maneuver his way towards her, and easily make his way to the last place he spotted her. The girl's laughter served an incentive and a taunt that goaded Aang into trying to stop the laughter from driving him over the edge with its tantalizing closeness. He didn't need a long chase. He needed answers.

The girl finally stopped next to a particularly dense set of brush, and fully erupted into hearty laughter, clutching her belly and shaking with unrestrained mirth. Aang, almost seeing red, sprinted towards her and held a hand outstretched to catch her for good, but at the very moment he touched her sleeve, she vanished into thin air.

Aang, however, could not stop his momentum, and barreled through the brush and almost impaled himself on Sokka's club.

"Aiiiiieeeeee!" they both screamed, tumbling into a heap of limbs. They quickly reoriented themselves and hugged each other tightly.

"Is this for real?" Sokka asked.

"I don't care. Thank the Spirits you're here," said Aang, burying himself in Sokka's chest. "This... this forest..."

"Aang, I won't lie. No matter how crazy your explanation is, I might just believe it. First, everything seemed normal and fine but creepy, then I started seeing things..." Sokka trailed off and shuddered. "I don't know what to make of them."

"Same thing happened to me. Some weird apparitions. The first one was loud and clear. The second one... not so much. By the way," Aang said, looking curiously at Sokka. "Did you happen to hear a girl's laughter around here?"

Sokka looked at Aang as though his arms had changed into vines. "Excuse me? What are you talking about? The only thing I heard was the sound of my club hacking through branches before you came out barreling into me and sending us both somersaulting backwards." Sokka shook his head. "No, no, I don't think I heard something like that."

"Really?" Aang thought aloud. "That's so... strange. It was clear as a bell. Almost as though she was real."

Sokka disappeared.

Aang took two seconds to realize what had happened. Then he ran screaming for his life.


Aang sobbed.

He didn't want any of this. He was so alone. Why was the forest so cruel? Were Appa and Momo getting hungry?

He looked wearily at the treetops. There was no sense of time here. Anywhere from a few minutes to several centuries could have passed in the malevolent glade that had ensnared him.

He didn't want to go on.

"Why?" he croaked. "Why do this to me? I- I just can't. Please, have mercy. Bring me to my friends. Or my friends to me. Please. One small favor. I swear as soon as I can I will get out of this place. Just please... stop." He hung his head down and sobbed.

He couldn't.

Suddenly, a voice carried through the morose quiet. "Aang... Aang? Is that you? As in, the real you? No crazy apparitions or anything?"

"Go away! Don't bother me!" snapped Aang. "Stop playing games! I get it! You just called me to here to use as your plaything. I hate you!" he screamed.

Silence. Then,

"Aang... eh, you know what, there's no point in sugarcoating an experience you already had. This forest is evil. Just plain evil." Sokka burst out of a bush of cattails and walked over to Aang, giving him a brief hug. "It's alright, man. Besides, worst comes to worst, even if I'm not real, you still have yourself. Remember that. Sometimes in our time of greatest need, we must delve deep into ourselves to find the strength to pass an ordeal."

Aang lifted his head, swollen eyes looking hopefully upwards. "Is that the real you, Sokka?"

Sokka shrugged. "Beats me. This forest does play nasty tricks on us. I don't even know if you're real. But hopefully my shpiel on loneliness proved otherwise." He sat down with Aang. "I saw Yue. And... my sister," he said, not in the mood to divulge more detail.

Aang understood. He wasn't ready to talk about what he had seen, either. "I saw the monks," Aang said, evading the topic of Sokka's sister. "I miss them a lot. And then... I saw this weird girl... and her giggle... it was nice and refreshing, bu at the same time, it was so aggravating. I tried to catch up to her to figure out what was going on, but -" he gestured fruitlessly. "You know, thingy. Disappears then reappears."

Sokka nodded. "So, we're here. How do we find everyone else?"

"Maybe we won't," Aang answered dully. "Maybe we're stuck here forever. Or maybe we'll make it, but not Appa and Momo." He bit his lip, fighting back tears. Appa had been his best mate since he was five, and they had never truly left each other's sides. Now, to not even know if one or the other would make it out...

He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't think like that. We're gonna make it out. Okay? We got a score with jerkbender Ozai to settle," joked Sokka, bringing a small smile to Aang's lips.

"Yeah," he said. "We'll make it out."

Suddenly, a voice cut through the clearing.

"Wait. You two sound... familiar. Sokka? Aang?"

Sokka and Aang jumped to their feet in excitement.

"Zuko?" they cried out in astonishment.

Zuko excitedly rushed to the location of the voices.

It seemed too good to be true. It likely was. But Zuko wanted to hope. He dared to hope. Those two voices rekindled the small flame still flickering on stubbornly in his heart. He latched onto this small chance, hoping for the best.

Were they apparitions? Maybe. Was it a trick of his dehydrated mind? Most likely. But he had hope. And that was what mattered.

"Aang! Sokka!" he cried out excitedly.

"Zuko! What are you doing here?"

"I got sidetracked. Unfortunate things happened on my way to Ba Sing Se, and I was forced to move south. What about you guys?"

"We're trying to find Aang an earthbending teacher."

Zuko laughed. He had never felt so relieved. "This forest is crazy!"

"It is!" the voices were definitely closer, causing a ruckus as Sokka and Aang were clearly making their way to Zuko.

Suddenly, he saw them. Sprinting towards him with full speed, smiles on their faces, arms outstretched.

Zuko, for the first time in weeks, saw reason to truly smile.

"Zukooooo!" They yelled, sprinting to hug Zuko.

They nearly tackled him in their relief and affection, overjoyed at reuniting with their friend. Joy that quickly changed to confusion and horror when they found themselves hugging a tree trunk.

Aang and Sokka looked at each other in disbelief. They had been tricked. Again.

Zuko found himself hugging two frogs, who croaked at him indignantly.

He released his embrace from them, then took a step back. And another. And another.

He turned and sprinted away from the frogs, away from the vines, away from the voices and dead people and alive people and everything.

The fire crackled sporadically, dying out to smoke and embers as the last of the wood was spent. Aang and Sokka slept back to back, even in rest not letting their guards down.

They had agreed to a nap. They needed a break from the madness, no matter how temporary. Besides, perhaps the sleep would help everything to make sense.

Aang woke up. He noticed the dying fire, and nudged Sokka. "Sokka. Wake up."

"Hnrgh?" Sokka snorted. He opened his eyes, took stock of his surroundings, then cursed. "I thought it was all just some crazy nightmare!" He rearranged his face to one more composed. "Eh, whatever." He stretched his limbs out. "It's not like some sort of real monster is going to come out and get us."

Aang was about to nod in agreement, until he noticed a shadow looming over him. Sokka was too far away to make that shadow, and whatever was creating it, was big.

Aang slowly turned around. And for the umpteenth time, he screamed. When Sokka saw what Aang was screaming at, he joined in as well.

The abomination towered several people high - almost dwarfing Appa in height and rivaling him in girth. The monster was made of vines that whipped about threateningly in the air, and the only variance in the green monstrosity was a face of wood curved into a perpetual smile.

Aang and Sokka screamed, hugging each other tightly. Then suddenly, the creature collapsed, and a man stood where the monster once stood.

Screaming was replace by utter confusion. "W-what just happened?" quizzed Sokka.

"Dunno," said the man. "I thought I saw some violaters of the land, but it just turns out you're lonely and scared outta your wits. The forest can do that sometimes." He turned to walk away, then decided against it and returned to them. "My name's Huu. I get you're scared, and from what I've gathered, you've been seeing crazy hallucinations or visions of that sort. You don't need to worry anymore. You're in good hands. Just follow me."

"But... but we also left some friends behind," said Aang distrustfully.

Huu blinked slowly. "Ah. I see. Well then, it's probably best to hurry along with me. You'll understand why once we get there," Huu said. He beckoned to them and started walking away. Looking at each other, the two boys shrugged, decided there was nothing better to do, and took off after Huu.


"This swamp is a mystical place alright. It's sacred. I reached enlightenment right here undre the banyan-grove tree. I heard it calling me." Huu placed an emphatical look in Aang's direction. "Just like you did."

They were standing on the roots of a massive tree. So massive, that each individual root dwarfed the trees that surrounded the jungle. The tree was shaped like an umbrella, casting shade on its land, but unlike the rest of the jungle, also showing the sun, which showed the sun just setting. Aang didn't know what to make of this. It was a long time to be stuck alone in a forest for sure, but at the same time, he was stunned that the duration of their stay was so short and so long.

Huu didn't react to Aang's surprise, knowing that the boy would need time to recover from his ordeal. Mystical or not, benevolent or not, the swamp was a different breed than any other land in the world.

Huu pointed out to the rest of the swamp. Although seemingly formidable in size, in reality, the banyan-grove tree was only just one tree in a sea of others. It might have been the biggest, oldest, centered tree, but it was still one tree. As was the rest of the jungle. "See, this whole swamp is actually just one tree spread out over miles. Branches spread and sink, take root, and spread some more. One big, living organism. Just like the entire world."

Aang cocked his head, skeptical of this concept. "I get how the tree is one big thing, but the whole world?"

"Sure. You think you're any different from me or your friends or this tree?" Huu opened his arms. "If you listen hard enough, you can hear every living thing breathing together. You can feel everything growing. We're all living together, even if most folks don't act like it. We all have the same roots and we are all branches of the same tree."

"Cool. But then what does this have to do with the insane hallucinations we've been seeing inside this one tree?" Sokka deadpanned.

Huu was seemingly immune to any disturbance in emotion or activity, remaining aloof even during Sokka's irony. "In the swamp, we see visions of people we've lost, people we loved, folks we think are gone. But the swamp tells us they're not. And even if they physically are no longer here, we're still connected to them. Time is an illusion and so is death."

"So... I had a vision of someone I'd never met. Does that... is that someone in my future?"

Huu nodded. Sokka jocularly slapped Aang's arm. "Looks like you got a prospective partner in your future!"

"Shut up, Sokka," muttered Aang, face red. He had regretted confessing to the chase of the girl in the frilly white dress on their way to the tree. Sokka had teased him relentlessly over it. He tried reaching out to Huu for help, but beyond a chastising, "Take it easy there, Sokka, there's no need to disturb our tranquility," the teasing continued. Aang knew it was all in good jest, but he couldn't even bear the thought of being with anyone beyond Katara. Not that he'd admit it out loud, of course.

They sat their in meditative silence, watching the sun set. Suddenly, Sokka bursted, "That's all good and contemplative, but what about Appa and Momo?"

"Wait," Aang said. "I think I might know how to find them..." he walked up to the tree, took a deep breath, and placed his hands on the tree. "Everything is connected..."

A thin line of pure energy arced from the tree, snaking and splitting and traveling to every root and every tree. For once, Aang could revel in the overwhelming power he wielded, able to see everything and know everything about the forest, from the birds that wailed sounds of death, to the occasional catgator that roamed the waters, to the skybison in a net being towed in a canoe alongside a burlap sack with a clear bulge struggling against the bag...

Aang's eyes widened, and he quickly retracted his hands. Although woozy from the sudden withdrawal in power, Aang shook his head. They had no time to lose. "Hurry! They're in trouble!"


Zuko skidded to a halt, panting on his knees.

He'd been running for a while. His legs were spent. Everywhere was sore. His throat was dry. He could barely breathe, let alone think.

He saw some footprints in the ground. He froze in fear. Those marks were too small to be his. Besides, he'd never traveled this way, and there were many different-sized prints in the ground. And some of them were... barefoot?

Zuko had heard stories about wild men in the jungle and how they preyed on unsuspecting travelers. Seeing proof of their existence was too much.

Zuko grudgingly thanked whatever had kept him alive for so long in the swamp, and then ran for his life. Then he realized he was able to see his position in the jungle.

He hiked up the roots of the gigantic tree, and scanned the land. The only thing he could see was trees, trees, more trees, and a patch of orange.

The desert.


Appa floated down the river.

He had lost. Frowning Man and Tall Man threw a net over him, then tied him to their boat. As he was carried off to his fate, he mournfully accepted that he might never see his human again.

Suddenly, he stopped drifting with the boat. The boat suddenly gained speed as the principal weight restricting it was released, and the boat nearly crashed into a tree. Appa found he could move his legs and tail once more, but lay low just in case something happened.

Aang stood there with a scowl on his face. Appa roared in joy at seeing him again. They'd always find each other. Always.

"Appa!" Aang cried. He pointed an accusatory finger at Frowning Man and Tall Man. "What were you two doing with my sky bison?"

"Your sky bison? We found him fair and square walking down the river. I reckon he's ours." Due scowled as he prepared to fight. He quickly levitated a large amount of water and sent it rocketing towards

Suddenly, a wave of water crashed into them, and, while they all coughed and spluttered, Huu stepped out. "Wait a minute..." Huu scratched his head. "Due? Tho?"

"Huu?" Frowning Man said, his frown having disappeared. "How ya been?"

Huu gave a toothy grin. "You know, scared some folks, swung some vines, the usual," Huu shrugged. "Oh! And I brought guests! Looks like you have some too!"

"So... no bison for dinner?" whined Tall Man. Appa growled at him warningly, and he held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I was joking! I'd hate it if Slim got roasted over a fire too! He's my pet catgator! He means the world to me, okay?" Appa growled, but decided to let the human go for this once. Besides, he was too busy appreciating Aang's hug to pay attention to anything else.

"I missed you, boy," said Aang happily.

Appa rumbled in agreement. Momo chittered from his bag. Appa's rumble turned into a growl, and Aang looked at him curiously.

"Really? Was he that annoying?... I'm sorry, but, you know, we gotta let him out. I think he's been punished enough by thinking he's going to end up as dinner," Aang said soothingly. Appa snorted, and Aang gave him an apple.

Aang ran over and untied the sack, and Momo shot out, chittering excitedly, and then landed on Appa's saddle and went straight to sleep.

Beyond Sokka's strange comparison of possum chicken to arctic hen and eating some extravagant bugs, and exchanging waterbending stories, dinner was nothing extraordinary.


Zuko stumbled and tripped out into the desert.

After making absolutely certain he was out of the swamp, he dove to his knees and kissed the blistering sand.

Forget the swamp and its crazy noises and animals and hallucinations. The filthy water and insanity wasn't worth it.

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