A/N: Hi guys! It's been a whole month since I last posted a chapter, so if I've kept you waiting - sorry! College has kept me very busy, so for about two weeks I had no time at all to sit down and write. To make it up to you, I'll try and post a new chapter next week, as well as in 2 weeks time! This chapter's one of my favourites so far. Will Aang find what he's looking for? Or might he discover that what he's looking for isn't necessarily what he needs...? Enjoy!

This chapter's song is 'Anchor' by Novo Amor.

'Hello, Aang. It's good to see you.'

Aang stared. For some reason, despite what he saw in front of him being the very thing he had come here to find, he was speechless. The frail man sat in the centre of the vast room in front of him was shrouded by shadow, but he recognised his voice instantly. This was a vision from the past, he thought to himself. It couldn't be. He'd been haunted by history before. Hallucinations and dreams were old friends by now. He'd been travelling, and was tired, and couldn't be entirely sure that any of this was real. Air rushed through the room, spiralling up the columns that supported the huge vaulted ceiling.

He took a tentative step forwards, half expecting to fall through the floor at any moment. He ran his hand along a column. The stone was cold, but tactile, and present. This place was flooded with spiritual energy, sure, but he couldn't feel anything to suggest that he had left the human world. He closed his eyes. He could feel Katara, Sokka and Appa outside the building. The knowledge that wherever this was, whatever reality he was in - awake or sleeping - they were with him, brought him comfort. He took another step. His memory of the last time he had heard that voice was still clear in his mind, years later. He had been so young. So unaware of what he was to do. He thought that perhaps he might look back on this moment the same way in years to come. He could have sworn he heard a child's laugh from somewhere in the building, but put it down to his imagination.

'It's good to see you too.'

He meant it. Despite the distance, the cold, the emotional turmoil of the past few years and what felt like centuries since their last encounter, Aang really did feel a certain warmth when he had heard the man's voice. It was kind. He felt as if hearing it might compel him to kindness somehow. There was a comfort that came with the voice. So assured, so wisened from countless years of life, of enlightenment and inner peace. He wondered whether the man knew what had happened to him since they last met. He was sure that somehow he had found a way to follow him, from just a little way back, to keep an eye.

He moved to the centre of the room, just in front of where the man was sat, and caught in the light the top of his head, thin strands of grey glistening with ghostly translucence as the moonlight hit them. Aang sat, quietly in front of the man, in a patch of darkness between two shards of moonbeam. He crossed his legs mimicking the way in which he sat, and quietly leaned forward as his eyes adjusted.

'Is this… are you real?'

'Why do you ask?'

'I don't know. Sometimes I have trouble telling what're real and what's just in my head. My mind seems to be fighting me a lot of the time these days. Like this constant push and pull inside my brain. Life isn't as simple as it was when we last spoke.'

'It doesn't seem to be, no.'

'That's why I ask. I struggle to sleep a lot. When I do, my dreams often end up looking something like this. A face from the past. A place out of time. Empty, and cold. I'm sorry. It's been a long day.'

'It has.'

'So are you real?'

'Does it matter?'

'I suppose not. But it would be nice to know. To keep track of my own head. This wouldn't be the first time you've appeared in one of my dreams recently.'

'And what did I say the last time you saw me in a dream?'

'To find you. To come and find you.'

'And you have come and found me?'

'Yes. I think. That depends on if any of this even exists or not.'

The old man chuckled. The sound resonated within Aang's own chest, filling him with warmth.

'I am real, in a sense.'

'What does that mean?'

'Does it matter?'

'No, I suppose it doesn't.'

Guru Pathik leaned forward and smiled, gently, his skin glowing in the silver light.

He reached out a boney arm and placed a steady hand on Aang's shoulder. He sat there for a moment, the two of them silent and still, eyes closed, reconnecting after years. Aang could feel the spiritual energy that Pathik radiated. He was a beacon of purity in an ocean of tumult and confusion. Pathik said nothing, occasionally tensing his hand somewhat before relaxing into Aang's shoulder once more. Aang felt their spirits connecting, as if the old man could see into his mind and feel his every memory. He noticed a single tear running down the old man's cheek.

After a while, Pathik lifted his hand, and looked deep into Aang's eyes, as if he were attempting to reach his very soul with his gaze. He smiled, sadly.

'Oh, you poor man.'

They sat in silence.

Aang wasn't really sure how to feel. In a way, it was liberating. It was the first time that anyone had really registered his pain since he had left. It had been so long since he had truly felt empathy like that. He hid his pain most of the time from Kya, or at least tried to. To feel someone truly know what he had felt, what he had battled through, and what was still eating him up inside was rare, and caught him off guard. He was overcome with a strange sense of painful comfort. As if his chest was being pulled ever tighter with strings, and one was suddenly cut. There was a feeling in his gut, which he couldn't describe. He had felt this way for so long, to finally experience true understanding from another had unlocked something within him that he had not felt for a long time. Was it nostalgia for a time long since passed which he couldn't help but long for? Or was he finally feeling present, truly present for the first time in years? He didn't know. But he felt, somehow, in this huge dark place, a sense of safety. This was, after all, a place he felt he belonged. A bridge to a past existing only in weathered stone and memory.

'It's ok.', Aang said.

'I believe you.'

Then, after a moment.

'Why are you here, Aang?'

'I suspect you already have some idea…'

'Ah yes. Your missing people. Missing in a sense. From themselves, not us.'

'Yes. I've never seen anything like it before. I thought that perhaps if I followed what you said in my dream that I might find some answers.'

Pathik smiled.

'I don't think those are the answers that you are necessarily looking for.'

'What?'

'I think you understand what I mean. I can read your energy, Aang. I can feel your pain. It is consuming you. You haven't changed, really.'

Aang understood.

'Years ago you came to me in a very similar position. You were a prisoner of love. It is a very difficult thing to let go of.'

'You told me to. I didn't. Maybe that's why I'm feeling like this now.'

'No. I don't think so.'

'No?'

'No. I think you were right, and I was wrong. I'm an old man, Aang. Very old. I have seen a lot in my lifetime. The air nomads were a wise people, and a people driven in so many ways by love. But it was a deep love of not just each other, but all things. Those who were considered wisest would detach themselves from worldly things. From attachments and desires and the kind of love that we spoke about then. But I think they were wrong. I think they were blind to think that true peace and enlightenment comes when we let go of love. I was wrong to tell you that then. I won't tell you that now. As the Avatar you can never achieve true spiritual freedom, true detachment from this world - because you are bound to it. Not just by the people in your life that you love, but by the duty that you have to every living thing here. For you, to let go of love would be to shun that responsibility and give up who you are. You cannot escape love, Aang. It is part of you. You are perhaps the most loving soul I have ever come across. And love has caused you so much pain. I can feel it. But it is our pain and love that forms us into the beings that we are. To throw that all away… I see now how much of a waste that would be.'

Aang didn't say anything. He just listened. There was truth to what Pathik was saying, and he knew it.

'I don't know what I can do about it. I don't know if it's the right thing to do, regardless of what I need.'

'That is understandable, Aang. What you feel is fear. When we are young, fear is not the driving force behind what we do. We are consumed by passion, driven by excitement and what is new. But as we grow, as we age, though we see more of it and are stronger and wiser, life somehow becomes more defined by our fears than our desires. We become afraid of what once excited us, because we can truly grasp what it means to lose those things. It can cause us great pain. The uncertainty never leaves us. It has never left me. We are powerless to change it. But while we cannot change the fear itself, cannot wipe it out, we can learn to embrace it. To embrace the unknown rather than shy away from it in the cocoon of what we know. If we choose not to embrace fear, we may never experience the joy of overcoming it. We live as if we were empty. Love is full of fear. But you conquered it then, whether you knew it or not, because the love you felt outweighed the fear that was trying to pull you back from it. You are stronger now than you were then. Better equipped to embrace that fear of losing what you love.'

'But I did lose what I love. I lost it. And that only makes me more afraid to lose it again. I feel more afraid than ever.'

'But it is precisely because you lost that love that you must embrace that fear again. You know what it is to lose, and you have lost, but you are here now. The very fact of you losing what you love and still standing here, bursting with it, is a testament to that love's strength. A love that endures so strongly for so long is not worth throwing away. The more you try to push it down, the stronger it will inevitably resurge. The love you have is rare, Aang. It is pure, and powerful beyond measure. You know what it is to love unconditionally. And you should never, ever, let that feeling go. It is not just part of you. It is essential to your very being. You are a man, where once you were a boy. The world is a changed place since we last met, and you have changed it. But your emotions have not faded. The love you feel has only grown stronger. The ultimate test of the strength of your love is to lose it - and your love survived. A love as strong as that is one that you must embrace. The greatest illusion is that of separation. It is not possible to embrace love and run from fear. They are one and the same.'

He was right. Aang knew it. The last seven years had been full of fear and regret and loss. But he was here. He was still loved. He still loved her.

'So what do I do?'

'What you think is right, Aang. There is nothing I can say to guide you further in this matter. Yours is a path you must take alone.'

Aang nodded.

'And what about the people. In Republic City?'

Pathik said nothing for a moment, before slowly standing.

'Come with me.'

The two men walked through the temple, climbing a long set of stairs that lead upwards and upwards, seemingly into eternity. Pathik said nothing as they walked, only looking ahead of them. Aang felt he should say something, but couldn't think of what, so decided to stay quiet. After a while, they arrived at the top of the staircase, near the highest point of the temple.

Pathik led him out onto a veranda that overlooked miles of mountain countryside. The sun was not yet visible, but its golden purple glow was beginning to creep over the horizon, casting a deep blue iridescence over the landscape, the sky still scattered with endless stars, and the moon slowly lowering itself from the sky.

The two of them stood towards the edge, looking out over the vast mountains. Aang felt so small. He had grown up in a place just like this - he'd even been here before, but something about their surroundings felt unfamiliar. All at once he was a tiny blot on this landscape. He felt cosmically insignificant. This place existed before him and it would, he hoped, exist long after he passed. He was somehow both aware of his tremendous significance - after all, he was the Avatar - and yet he also felt this great sense of the world, the universe, being so much more than him. A great sense of indifference. He may have been the Avatar, yes, but that came with the knowledge that when he died, he would never truly end. There was no sense of finality. That part of him that made him special would simply move to a new vessel. He would simply be Aang.

He glanced over to Pathik, wondering if he was thinking the same thing. Maybe that was simply the natural human response when confronted with such vastness of nature. Perhaps Pathik was old enough now that these thoughts didn't really bother him. He must have had them thousands of times. Perhaps, Aang thought, the older you got the more you realise that the big questions of life are in fact the least important of all.

'You're right.' Pathik said.

'What?'

'They are the least important.'

'What are?'

'The big questions.'

He smiled at Aang, who was wondering how on earth he could have known what he was thinking. Perhaps not to think about it was the best option he had.

'What do I do, then? About the people, I mean.'

'That is not a question I can answer for you. I have not seen something like this happen before. But I suspect that whatever it is, has transpired as a result of a spiritual imbalance. It is your duty to maintain balance. I have faith that you will continue to do so.'

'But I can't see a way out of this. I came to you for answers, and I'm not leaving any more knowledgeable than when I arrived. About this, at least.'

'Perhaps we should attempt to open your mind a little. Wait here, please.'

The guru disappeared, leaving Aang to himself for a moment. Had he failed? Had he been so torn apart, so distracted, that he had neglected his higher duty to the world? He had been selfish. But he had needed to be. Still, the guilt was beginning to bottle up at the suggestion that this was all his fault. Somehow, in his gut, he felt as if it was. He wondered what the others would think if they knew that this was his fault. He wondered what Katara would think. The guru was right. He could not stop his mind from wondering back to her. Just to have her there, somewhere floating around in his thoughts, gave him a sense of nostalgic comfort. He shuddered at the thought that she could blame this all on herself. She was someone that always took on responsibility, and because of that carried an enormous amount of guilt. He couldn't allow himself to add to that. He couldn't allow her to feel responsible. Even the thought of what that would do to her was too much for him to bear. He imagined them together again. He allowed himself to, for the first time in a while, daydream. He thought of a world in which they had none of this. None of the pain. None of the guilt. None of the responsibility. He wondered whether that would be a world in which they were happier. But what about Kya? She had come into his life precisely because of the pain, and the responsibility. How could he possibly wish for an existence without her? She made the pain worth it, for him at least. He hoped that he could find a way to make it worth it for Katara, too.

He heard footsteps behind him and quickly withdrew from his own head. Pathik had returned, carrying two small wooden bowls. He handed one to Aang. It took a second for the smell to hit his nostrils - once it did, he couldn't help but recoil a little.

'Is this…?'

'Yes. I see you like it no better all these years later.'

'Do I really have to-'

'No. You don't have to do anything. But I think, if you are to open your mind, this may help you.'

Aang nodded, slowly.

'Okay.'

'Come, drink.'

He did. His stomach turned a little at the taste, but he managed to finish the whole thing.

'Now what?'

'We wait. Meditate with me.'

The two of them sat looking out over the landscape, and together closed their eyes. Their breathing in perfect synchronicity. In. Out. In. Out. Their heartbeats slowly began to match each other. Their minds, clearing gently. At least, that was the object. Aang was trying to find some semblance of peace. His stomach continued to churn, and he wondered whether there was something wrong with what he had drunk.

'Patience, Aang. Patience.'

Aang took a deep breath, and tried to relax once more into his breathing.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He began to feel a cool air on his forehead. Perhaps a breeze had begun to blow across the veranda. Except he felt cold. The warmth afforded to him by the sliver on sunlight peeking over the mountains had suddenly disappeared. The sound, too, felt different. Familiar, but not in a comforting, welcome sense. This was a sound he had heard only once before. Well, not heard, per se. Imagined? He dared not open his eyes. He began to panic. Whatever he had drunk, was currently making him feel things that couldn't be there. He tried to focus his mind. To meditate his way back to present reality, but he couldn't. He gave in. Called out into the void for Pathik. He was met with echoes of his own voice. Then silence.

Trust in your own mind. This is your journey to take. You must take it alone.

He opened his eyes. He saw only what he was expecting to. He stood. He was in a long hallway, so long that it seemed endless. Nothing but stone walls, and wooden floors.

The hallway was dark. It stretched into infinity. There were lamps on the walls, but they weren't lit. The floor was cold.

Aang took a step forward. Then another. Then another. Then he stopped. There was something new. A presence here he hadn't felt before. He had a feeling, as if something, or someone, was watching him. He stopped.

'Hello?'

He received no reply but could have sworn he heard something shift behind him.

He turned. Nothing. The hallway simply stretched on into eternity as it did ahead of him. Calm, he thought. You escaped here before. You can do it again.

He turned back in the 'right' direction, but was stopped in his tracks. This was new. Someone was in the hallway with him. They were a little ahead of him, and covered by shadow, but he recognised their silhouette.

He took a step forward.

'K-'