Katara stood on one of the balconies overlooking the mountains that surrounded the Eastern Air Temple. A flutter of wings signalled Momo's arrival. She smiled and stroked his ears, but a few seconds later the corners of her mouth were drooping. Hours had passed, but there had been no word from Aang or Zuko. She wished she knew what was happening. Waiting in suspense like this was awful. She didn't know much about chakras, but it had sounded like unlocking them was not an easy task. If only she could have gone with the boys to support them. Aang was so young, and Zuko ...

A crease marred her brow. Zuko. How strange it was that she should feel concern for him. Prince of her enemies. Prince of the nation that had murdered her mother. A violent, unrelenting firebender who had kidnapped her, taunted her, done so many terrible things. By rights, she should hate him. Except she couldn't. She just couldn't. Not when she saw for herself how lost and heartbreakingly human he was underneath all that fierceness. Not when she felt his struggles through the healing touch of her energy: a sorrow so deep that he had fortified his own mind against the pain and locked away his memories.

"I think I understand now, Momo," she murmured.

Aang had always been so insistent that Zuko was worth helping. Worth giving a chance. Now she could see what had driven him to such lengths.

"He really is just like Lee," she said, leaning on the railing. "Don't you think?"

Momo tilted his head to the side and made chittering noises. Right. She was talking to a lemur.

Katara sighed and rested her chin on her cupped palms, gazing up at the fire-coloured sky. "I hope they're both alright."

"They'll be fine."

She jumped and turned to see Sokka standing underneath the stone archway that led towards the main part of the temple. He grinned and tossed her a moon peach.

"Found this on the other side of the courtyard," he said, taking a bite out of the one he still held in his hand. "There's a whole bunch of fruit trees over there."

Katara poked the lemur in his furry stomach. "Is that why you're looking so fat, hrm?"

Momo chirruped happily. No doubt he had been gorging himself on every fruity thing he could find.

She smiled and shifted her gaze back to her brother. "I don't suppose you caught sight of Aang and Zuko while you were exploring?"

Sokka shook his head. "Toph reckons she felt them moving towards the northern part of the temple." He scratched his chin. "I guess this chakra thing is more complicated than we thought. Sounds like they've been changing location quite a bit, if Toph's feet are to be believed."

Katara frowned at the moon peach in her hand. "I guess there really is nothing we can do except wait."

"Seems like it. Hopefully, they won't take much longer. We need to get to Ba Sing Se as soon as possible so we can inform the Earth King about the eclipse. This could be a major turning point for us in the war if the plan works."

She made a noncommittal sound. Her brother was right, but she was too busy fretting over Aang and Zuko to worry about such grand matters as defeating the Fire Lord. So much time had passed since the guru had first led the boys away. Was it supposed to take this long to unlock chakras?

Sokka pursed his lips. "Hey, don't look so down. I told you they'll be fine. Aang's a tough little guy, and Zuko's no pushover either."

Katara ran her finger over the fuzzy skin that coated the moon peach. "It's not about strength, though, is it?"

There was a pause as they both considered what it meant to unlock the seven chakras. A small breath escaped Sokka's lips.

"They'll be fine, Katara. Besides, aren't you the one who's always telling us we need to have faith and all that stuff?" He nudged her with his elbow. "Where'd all that optimism go?"

A reluctant smile curved her lips. "It's not that I don't believe in them. I just wish I could have been there too, you know? Especially for Aang. It's hard to sit around and wait when I know he must be out there struggling."

"You can't hold his hand forever. Eventually, he has to learn to confront his problems on his own."

A cheeky glint entered her eyes. "Wow, Sokka, that was almost wise. Have you been taking lessons from Iroh?"

"Hey!" He raised his chin. "I'm always full of wisdom, thank you very much. That's why I'm the Plan Guy."

"Sure, sure, Plan Guy." She patted him on the shoulder. "Keep up the good work."

Sokka made spluttering sounds, but Katara just bit into her moon peach and headed back inside temple. Her brother could be such a dork sometimes, but he was right about one thing: Aang wasn't just some goofy, twelve-year-old kid. Aang was the Avatar. If he couldn't learn to control his powers now or stand on his own feet, how was he supposed to fulfil his duty to the world when it really counted?

Her expression softened into a smile. I know you can do this. Both of you.

oOo

The shrine was quiet. Light filtered through the wounds in the stone structure, touching upon the statues of crumbling Air Nuns and the three figures who sat on the ground. It would have been a tranquil scene had reminders of the temple massacre not been so present. Then again, perhaps that was the point. Zuko, Aang and Guru Pathik had come to the shrine to unlock the fourth chakra, which the guru explained was located in the heart. This chakra dealt with love and was blocked by grief. Zuko supposed that the feel of the shrine—that strange mixture of serenity and sorrow—helped to set the mood. Not that he was eager to get started. Accepting his fear, guilt and shame had been difficult enough.

"Look into your hearts," Guru Pathik said, and his voice softened into an invitation, becoming more of a guiding lilt. "Lay all your grief out in front of you."

Aang placed his fingers against his heart and closed his eyes. Zuko just bowed his head. Even if he didn't want to recall the memories, the images washed over him in waves of heartache: Cousin Lu Ten waving goodbye before he sailed off to die, his mother abandoning him with no real explanation. Despair, betrayal, loneliness. Zuko felt each loss like chains wrapping around his heart.

"Face it, Zuzu. Mother might have loved you the most, but she's not around anymore. No one is here to protect you."

Zuko's hands trembled. A lump formed in his throat. He swallowed, trying to ease the constricting feeling. It didn't work. Nothing did. The bitter taste of grief welled up inside him, reminding him of the years he had spent trying to be strong. Trying to pretend that he wasn't scared and that it was his own fault if he got hurt, because Father did love him in his own way. Somewhere. Somehow.

"Dad's going to kill you. Really, he is."

He clenched his jaw and his eyes prickled and burned, but no tears fell. He'd cried back then, though. After Lu Ten died. After his mother disappeared. Tears had wet his pillow almost every night, at least for the first week. He'd forced himself to stop after that. Even as a child, he'd known there was no point. Crying wouldn't bring back the people he loved. Crying wouldn't stop the sick fear from churning in his gut.

"Azula always lies. Azula always lies. Azula always lies."

How often he had said those words. Desperation. Denial. It had been all he'd had. His world had been crumbling—too fast for him to handle. That was why he had sworn to himself that he would earn his father's approval. It would all be alright then. Even if he was lonely and scared. Even if Grandfather, Mother and Lu Ten were gone. He just had to prove his worth and then Father would smile at him again. Father would be proud.

Except it hadn't been that easy. Azula was crazy. Uncle Iroh had become a recluse. The palace was a battleground of politics and hidden agendas, and there was nothing but a gaping hole where Zuko had once found comfort. No cheerful cousin to boost his spirits or have sword fights with him when the pressure got too much, no mother to sit with him by the turtle-duck pond or hold him in her arms.

"No one is here to protect you."

Zuko covered his face with his hands. The true form of his grief burned into his closed eyelids, giving him no place to hide. Forsaken. Banished. Betrayed. His was the grief of a child left to flounder: a hopeless struggle to stay afloat when all lifelines had been snatched away.

"You have indeed suffered much," Guru Pathik's voice said in his mind, slipping through Zuko like a warm breeze to part the clouds of grief. "But love is a form of energy, and it swirls all around us. Your mother and cousin were your world, but their loss has not left you completely bereft."

Zuko raised his head to see his mother and Lu Ten standing in front of him. Both were smiling, bathed in golden light. His heart ached at the sight.

"Love still exists in your heart," Guru Pathik said gently. "It has only been reshaped into the form of new love."

The figures of his mother and Lu Ten started to blur and merge like water colours fading into translucency. Then a new face began to form from the light: an old man aged from years of experience but whose reddish brown eyes were so warm and full of compassion. A man who told stupid jokes and obsessed over tea, but who had been willing to join Zuko in his banishment and travel with him for three years.

"I am here for you. Lean on me. Let me share your burdens."

Something wet trailed down Zuko's cheeks. It was true that his uncle had not always been there for him. Not as a child, and not when Zuko had found himself a prisoner at the North Pole or later lost his memories. But the fact remained that Iroh had come back. He was the only one who had ever come back.

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

Zuko closed his eyes. The grief that had kept his heart chained began to loosen like padlocks breaking apart. He was not alone. His anchor was still there, a father to him in everything but blood. It was enough.

"Very good," Guru Pathik praised. "You have opened your fourth chakra."

Zuko scrubbed the tears from his face, still feeling a bit raw and exposed, but somehow lighter at the same time. Next to him, Aang's cheeks also glistened with tears. The younger boy smiled and asked for some onion and banana juice. That request in itself made Zuko wonder if the latest chakra had somehow messed with Aang's head.

"I can't believe you actually wanted to drink that stuff," Zuko said later, as they headed for their next destination.

Aang shrugged. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"If you say so."

Aang grinned but didn't say anything further. The two boys fell quiet and followed the guru to a room that was dominated by a large statue of Avatar Yangchen. She sat lotus-style, her expression calm. Zuko felt dwarfed in comparison.

"Please sit," the guru said, taking up his own position in front of the statue.

Zuko sat on the ground. Aang threw him a quick, encouraging smile and did the same.

"The fifth in the chain is the Sound chakra," Guru Pathik explained. "This one is located in the throat. It deals with truth and is blocked by lies, the ones we tell ourselves."

Zuko's breath caught a little. He remembered that his uncle had said this was likely to be one of the chakras that he had subconsciously manipulated with his bending. A chakra blocked by the lies he told himself. But what lies were those? He had always been honest with himself, hadn't he? He'd always accepted every awful truth, because there was no point denying what he already knew.

"Azula always lies."

That's right. It was Azula who lied. It was—

"Dad's going to kill you. Really, he is."

Zuko's breathing sharpened. He kept coming back to that memory. It had just been Azula's way of hurting him, right? His father would have never actually killed him, even if Zuko had wondered in his more paranoid moments. Even if it was true that Grandfather Azulon had given the order because of some twisted, palace power game. None of them had really meant it.

"I'm only telling you for your own good. I know, maybe you could find a nice Earth Kingdom family to adopt you."

He clenched his hands into fists. So Azula was just a sick, sadistic liar who liked to see him suffer. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd tried to make him feel like their parents didn't love or even want him.

"Is that really what you see?" Guru Pathik's voice asked him, slipping through his thoughts. "Look closer."

So Zuko did. He saw the throne room where Fire Lord Azulon had glared down at Ozai, telling him that his punishment had scarcely begun. He saw himself running away in fear as the flames grew, unable to bear listening any longer. He saw the smile on Azula's face as she told him of the order that had been given, heard the words that were calculated to hurt, but this time he also saw something else.

"I'm only telling you for your own good."

That tone, that expression. It was not the same as her usual taunts. Of course, Azula had recovered a split-second later and tossed off a line about adopting him to the Earth Kingdom, but in that moment Azula had not lied. She had been concerned; she had just not known how to express it.

Zuko uncurled his fingers, though the crescent-shaped indents remained on his palms. He had spent so many years clinging to the mantra that his sister was a liar. It had been easier that way. Better to believe that Azula was just cruel and sadistic than to accept that she might have been telling the truth. Better to make her the monster than to doubt all of his family. Her words had rattled so many of his foundations. He would have crumbled if he had not made her the scapegoat of his denial.

"It's because you're not normal, Zuzu. That's why mother has Shizue watch you so closely. They both think you're a monster."

"You're just a weak little boy who is not fit to be the heir. Even Father agrees with me. That's why he sent me to bring you back to the Fire Nation, because you'd failed one too many times and he was tired of you embarrassing him."

Zuko pressed his hands to his face, fighting back the sting that prickled in the corners of his eyes. No, Azula did not always lie. Not when the truth would hurt more. She had snuck in vicious little barbs of her own, but the underlying messages had been true enough. A part of him had always known it too.

It was the reason he had been so desperate to prove his worth to his father.

It was the reason he had spent so much time with his mother before she had abandoned him.

He did not want to believe that his father cared so little for him. He did not want to believe that his mother had really ordered Shizue to watch him, as if he were indeed some aberration that needed to be kept under guard. Parents were supposed to love their children, not plot against them.

But Grandfather had died the night Azula had told him about the punishment, despite being in perfect health. Mother had told him before she'd vanished that everything she'd done had been for him, and that was on the same night she'd found Azula taunting him about what Father was planning. It was too much of a coincidence. Just like it made sense why Father had set him the task of capturing the Avatar to revoke his banishment.

"You're just a weak little boy who is not fit to be the heir. Even Father agrees with me."

Father had never wanted him to succeed. The Avatar hadn't been seen for a hundred years. The task was only ever meant to be a futile search designed to keep the unwanted heir far from the throne. It hurt to accept that—hurt far more than Zuko thought possible, considering he had already turned his back on his father—but that didn't change the fact it was probably true.

And if Azula had not lied about their father, it followed that she had not lied about their mother either. After all, Zuko had learnt that he was one of the Children of the Undying Fire, a type of bender who had been so feared and despised by the Fire Nation that one of the previous Fire Lords had sworn an oath to destroy them. Lies would not have added up so perfectly; the words did when viewed as the truth.

Zuko bowed his head. He didn't like it, wished he could shove the facts far from him as he had always done, but he couldn't hide any longer. The mantra of his childhood had only ever been a mantra of denial. Azula was cruel, but she did not always lie. His mother had probably committed treason to protect him—hence, why she had been forced to leave—which also meant that his father had indeed planned to kill him in accordance to Fire Lord Azulon's will. It all added up, the pieces of the puzzle fitting together with painful precision now that he was no longer refusing to look at the full picture. Maybe it was true that his mother had not thought of him as a monster, not in the way Azula had intended, but Shizue had undoubtedly watched him to make sure he never revealed his healing abilities.

They'd all had agendas. Every single one of them.

Zuko was conscious that he was trembling. He also realised that the chakra had not opened. An inner voice whispered that he had only taken the first step. There were still more lies that he needed to confront.

"No," he half-whimpered.

He was already in so much pain. He didn't want to deal with any more. Couldn't keep willingly digging thorns into his heart.

"You must keep going," Guru Pathik told him, as if reading his mind. "If you stop now, you will lock the chakra and the truth you seek will be lost."

Zuko shook his head, breaking out of the trance-like state that allowed him to access the lies tied to the Sound chakra. He couldn't force himself to see any more.

"Prince Zuko—"

"Don't," Zuko said, lowering his hands from his face. "Just don't."

The guru fell silent. Aang didn't get the hint and moved to crouch next to him. It seemed that Aang had already opened his Sound chakra.

That's right, because he just lies to everyone else.

Zuko was a little startled by the snide thought. Most of the antagonism he'd felt towards the kid had diminished when Aang had helped him to unlock the Water chakra. Not intentionally, it must be noted. It was just difficult to hold a grudge against someone who had been willing to forgive him when he knew he hadn't deserved it. Didn't change how on edge he felt now, though.

"You want to talk about it?" Aang said softly.

Zuko shook his head.

Aang leaned back, resting on his palms. "You know, I never pegged you for a quitter."

"I'm not quitting."

"Then why did you stop?"

Zuko said nothing.

"Hey." Aang shuffled to his knees and leaned forward, meeting Zuko's gaze. "I know it's not easy, but it'll all be worth it once it's over, right? I mean, isn't that why you came here? You need to break the seal on your memories and opening the chakras is the only way to do that."

"You think I'm not aware of that?"

"Then why—"

"Because I hate it!"

There was a weighted pause as Aang just stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

Zuko sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I can't do this right now," he said in a voice that sounded impossibly weary even to his own ears. "I just need a break."

"It will only get harder to continue the longer you put it off," Guru Pathik warned.

"Then I'll deal with that later," Zuko retorted, getting to his feet.

"Prince Zuko—"

"I know, alright!" Zuko inhaled a ragged breath, forcing himself to lower his voice. "Look, I know I should be trying to unlock my memories, but it's not that easy. My family—" He broke off, swallowing back the words that burned like acid in his throat.

"What about your family?" Aang prompted.

Zuko shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He had an inkling of the lie that was holding him back and he knew that facing it would crush him. He wasn't ready for this truth.

Aang wrapped his arms around his scrawny legs, pulling his knees to his chest. "You know, the reason I got stuck in that iceberg for a hundred years is because I ran away from the truth. I didn't want to be the Avatar, you see."

Zuko stood perfectly still. He didn't want to show that he was listening, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away either.

"Being named as the Avatar ruined everything. My friends at the temple stopped playing with me. Then the elder monks tried to separate me from Gyatso. All they wanted was for me to train and train and train. Gyatso was the only one who thought it was okay for me to be a kid, and the elders didn't like that. They said he'd let his affection for me cloud his judgement, that he was keeping me from my destiny."

"So you ran away?" Zuko asked, then clamped his mouth shut. He hadn't meant to speak.

Aang nodded. "Yeah, I ran away. There was a storm and Appa and I got caught up in it. When I woke up, a hundred years had passed and all of the airbenders were dead."

Zuko stared at his hands. He had an odd urge to pat the kid on the shoulder or mutter something like, "That's rough, buddy", but he didn't do either of those things. Lucky for him, Aang didn't expect a response.

"I hated being the Avatar," Aang said with a grimness rarely heard from him. "That's why I lied to Katara and Sokka about it when they found me. I just wanted to be Aang. I didn't want to deal with the pressure. I didn't want to have to give up everything I cared about just to fulfil a destiny that I didn't even ask for."

"But they did find out."

"Yeah, when you showed up at the village."

Zuko shifted on his feet. "Oh."

"It doesn't matter," Aang said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I learnt something, you see. Maybe not then, but just before when I opened the Sound chakra." He hugged his knees closer to his chest. "I've told a lot of lies and run from a lot of things. I've let people down, and maybe that wouldn't be a big deal if I really was just a kid, but I'm not." He sucked in a breath, forcing a smile to his lips as he met Zuko's eyes. "I'm the Avatar. I have responsibilities and abilities that set me apart from others, and no amount of lies or running away will change that. It's just who I am."

Zuko swallowed past the sudden thickness in his throat. "I think I get what you're trying to say."

"Then you know I'm right. Living in denial doesn't solve anything, Zuko. Take it from me. I lost a hundred years because I was too scared to face my destiny. The truth might be hard to accept, but it's the only way to move forward. So, don't give up now. You've already come this far."

"Well said, Aang," the guru praised with a smile.

Zuko stared at them both. He knew that Aang was right, but that didn't stop the panic from building in his chest. Some truths were just too wounding.

Guru Pathik extended his smile to him. "Well, Prince Zuko? Will you try again?"

Zuko opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. He swallowed, tried again.

"Maybe it would help if you talked about it?" Aang suggested. "You mentioned your family before."

"I ... I don't ..."

"Come on," Aang said, patting the space next to him in an inviting manner. "We're all ears."

Zuko let his shoulders slump and exhaled a heavy breath. He sat on the ground, though for a long time he said nothing. Aang and Guru Pathik did not push him; they just waited, letting him collect his thoughts. It helped.

"I'm afraid," he admitted, not looking at either of them. "I lost my memories because the pain I was feeling at the time was too much to handle. I just wanted it to stop, so I used my bending as a self-defence mechanism to seal everything away." His hands trembled slightly. "I think I understand why I did it now."

"What do you mean?" Aang asked.

"It was never about the lightning. I almost died, but that wasn't what made me go into shock. It was the fact that my own sister had tried to kill me. It was the fact that my father had ordered Azula to bring me back to the Fire Nation so I could be imprisoned even though, after three years of being banished, I finally had a real chance of getting my honour and title restored."

Guru Pathik closed his eyes in understanding. Aang was not so quick on the uptake.

"So you're worried because you have a horrible sister and father?" Aang questioned, scrunching his face in confusion. "I don't get it. I mean, I do get it must be hard for you to have a family like that, but you already accepted the truth about them when you stopped chasing me, right? You said as much to Katara, so why would you—"

"Because I didn't want to accept the truth about my feelings," Zuko said softly.

Aang furrowed his brow. "Your feelings?"

"If I didn't remember anything, there was no reason for me to care. Even when the memories started returning, it was like experiencing it from an outsider's perspective. I just saw what I wanted to see and I refused to let myself dig deeper."

"But you sensed the truth earlier, didn't you?" Guru Pathik said, watching him through those ancient eyes. "That's why you stopped."

Zuko nodded. "Azula has never hesitated to hurt me. My own father burned and banished me when I was thirteen and then tried to have me imprisoned when I became an inconvenience to him." He laughed hollowly. "I should hate them, right? I mean, even Grandfather just saw me as a Pai Sho piece to be used for palace politics. He ordered Father to kill me as punishment for plotting against my uncle, but Mother got to Grandfather first." A mirthless smile. "I guess she understood Father better than I did. I was naïve enough to think that he wouldn't go through with it."

Aang blinked and reached for him in a startled gesture, perhaps realising for the first time how messed up Zuko's childhood must have been. Zuko just laughed again, but then he shook his head, gripping his knees so hard that his knuckles burned white.

"I really should hate them," he said in a low voice. "It's just sick to care about people like that. I did hate them when I was still recovering my memories, but now I just ... I can't even ..." He swallowed, trembling all over. The stinging sensation in his eyes got worse.

"It's okay, Zuko," Aang said, placing his hand on his arm. "You can say it."

Zuko shook his head, blinking back tears. For a long moment he was silent, but once again Aang and the guru waited, letting him speak when he was ready. Their patience paid off.

"You know," he said almost wistfully, "I have these memories of being at Ember Island with my family. Azula laughs and plays in the waves with me, and my father watches us with a smile that's actually sincere." His voice broke a little and he took in a gulp of air. "There are others like that too—nice moments that aren't filled with tension or fear. Moments where I think we were actually happy." Tears rolled down his cheeks. He curled into himself, hiding his face against his knees. "It shouldn't make a difference, right?"

"Nothing is ever black and white," the guru said in his gentle way. "Especially not emotions. The heart is much too complex to be bound by logic."

Zuko nodded, accepting this statement. "I thought that realising my family didn't care whether I lived or died would be the worst part," he admitted. "The truth is that I stopped trying to regain my memories when I remembered Ember Island. It made it too difficult."

"Because you wanted to hate your father and sister," Guru Pathik prompted.

Zuko swallowed against the hard lump in his throat. "It was better to pretend I wanted nothing to do with them than to accept the truth."

"You still love them," Aang said, putting the pieces together.

"Yeah." Zuko hiccupped on a half-sob, half-laugh. "How pathetic can I get, right? My own sister tries to kill me and here I am torn between wanting to hate her and hoping that she'll turn over a new leaf so we can be a family again."

Aang wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the way Zuko tensed from the contact. "I don't think you're pathetic," he said earnestly. "The monks always taught us that we should love and forgive everyone despite their flaws." He pulled back a fraction, chewing on his lip. "Though maybe you should be careful around Azula, 'cause she's not very nice and—"

Zuko placed his palm against Aang's tattooed forehead and pushed back firmly to break the hug. "Avatar," he said. "Shut up."

Aang smiled a bit sheepishly. "Sorry. I really don't think you're being pathetic, though."

"Indeed," Guru Pathik agreed. "If anything, this proves that your heart is more pure than most. You love unconditionally."

Zuko's cheeks warmed. "It's not like I don't feel resentment. I do hate them for what they've done to me. I just"—he sighed and ran a hand through his hair—"I guess I just can't let go of the fact that we're still family. Maybe it doesn't mean anything to them, but it does to me." He gave a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know."

Guru Pathik smiled and filled a cup with onion and banana juice. "Here."

Zuko scrunched his face. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Oh, but I insist." The cup got shoved into his hand. "Drink up. You've earned it."

When Zuko just blinked at the old man, Guru Pathik's smile widened. It was actually kind of creepy.

"You didn't notice, did you?" the guru observed, his eyes twinkling a little. "Why don't you take another look at your Sound chakra?"

Zuko's brow furrowed, but he closed his eyes and centred on the point in his throat where the energy had been blocked. Except there was no seal now. The energy flowed freely. Somehow, he'd opened his Sound chakra. All the lies he had told himself—that he despised his family, that he hoped he never had to see them again because they had hurt him too much—had been replaced with a quiet acceptance. He still loved his father and sister, and though he genuinely wished he felt otherwise, it was the truth. The knowledge wasn't liberating, but it did give him an odd sense of peace.

"Huh," he said, opening his eyes. "I thought opening that chakra would have made more of an impact."

"I think it did," Guru Pathik answered. "You might not realise it now, but you will."

Zuko nodded and, because it seemed only natural, downed the cup of banana and onion juice. He regretted the action a second later. Aang and the guru could say what they liked, but that stuff was plain nasty.

Aang got to his feet. "Alright!" he cried, raising his fist to the air. "Just two more chakras to go!"

Zuko arched his eyebrow. "I don't see why you're so excited."

Frankly, opening the chakras was an awful experience. He was sick of feeling vulnerable and exposed. His only consolation was that Aang usually ended up crying as well. Then again, the kid had always been a bit of a cry baby. Damn it.

Aang grinned, no trace of tears now aside from his puffy, red-rimmed eyes. "More like why aren't you more excited? We're so close to the end! Soon, I'll be able to control the Avatar State! Do you know how amazing that is?"

Zuko did. He had seen Aang out of control in the Avatar State several times and he had since learnt that those powers terrified the boy. He wished he could view the end of his own journey with as much anticipation, but he still wasn't sure exactly what it would mean for him. Guru Pathik had only hinted that the balance he would gain through unlocking the chakras would help him to master his destiny. Whatever that meant.

"Let's go, let's go!" Aang urged, practically floating as puffs of wind gathered around him in his enthusiasm. "The next chakra awaits!"

Guru Pathik smiled at Zuko. "Shall we?"

Zuko sighed and got to his feet. "Alright," he said, "but no more onion and banana juice. I really will be sick."

The answering chuckles did little to assure him that his warning had been taken seriously. Still, as Zuko followed the two, he couldn't help but note that he felt so much lighter, as if there was a new spring in his step. He doubted it had anything to do with that awful juice the guru kept forcing on him, but maybe there was something to be said for this finding balance nonsense. At the very least, he was glad that he had not given up.

"Two more to go," Zuko murmured, and his mouth twitched into a reluctant smile.

Maybe he was excited to see what would happen when he opened the final chakra. Just a little.