SUMMARY: An ancient prophecy predicts that the Balance is in danger, and it's up to Katara and Zuko to go on a mission together to find the legendary figure the Conduit. Aang and Toph venture into the Spirit World to gain the ancient knowledge needed to defeat the Conduit but it's not at all what it seems. In the Fire Nation, insurrection stirs. ~Zutara~ Special thanks to LadyFaePhillips for her work editing!

Rating/Content Warning: This story will contain some mature content, including sexual situations (but no smut), adult language, violence, and some sexual assault. I'll place appropriate CWs at the start of any chapters with mature content.

Part I: The Weavings of Dreams

Five summers past the Comet,

The Balance begins to fall.

A battle between the Avatar and the Conduit;

His greatest challenge of all.

Fog swirled thickly through the dark landscape. The shadows were deep and the light was scarce and the sound of silence was all that could be heard. Nothing stirred in the silent night save for the silvery fog that moved on a breeze that could not be felt. Trees loomed high, their bare, spindly branches reaching out like bleached, brittle bones toward the ink-black, starless sky.

The man moved quietly down a path he could not see, but could feel, heading toward a destination unknown, but with a sense of urgency he could not shake. Something was not right; there was danger. But was it here? No, he did not think it was. The danger was somewhere else, but it was impending, looming, all-encompassing.

He was alone, but he did not feel alone: something watched, unseen, from the shadows.

Down the path he went, deeper into the skeletal forest, deeper into the darkness. Soon his eyes would be useless. His ears already were: they heard nothing, as if sound did not exist, as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. He could not hear his own breathing, let alone the sound of his beating heart. He could only feel, but even there he felt a certain detachment, as if his skin were not his own. It was an odd, unsettling feeling.

The shadows swallowed him up.

Soon, he could sense a change in the darkness. His sandaled feet continued over the ground, barely registering the soft squelch of the muddy grass below. He looked up into the blackness. Were his eyes playing tricks on him, or had the environment taken on a ghostly silver glow? He wasn't sure, but he pressed onward.

It didn't take long for him to realize the silvery sheen was not imagined: he realized he could faintly see the outlines of the trees. The sterling light illuminated the fog once more, and soon he saw a break in the cadaverous trees. The argent glow was most strongly concentrated there.

He broke through the tree line and found himself in a clearing in the heart of the forest and stopped.

The glade was as beautiful as it was unsettling. A perfect circle, with thick grass that was pearly under the silver glow, with a large willow tree in its center, its boughs heavy with luscious foliage. Before it was a round pond filled with reflectionless indigo water. Sound carried here: he could hear whispers carried on a breeze he didn't feel, too muffled to make out words. But the ominous tone sent a sliver of fear running down his spine.

He approached the willow and the pond, drawn there, pushed it seemed, by an unseen hand. He fell to his knees and bowed respectfully to the willow, sensing its sentient power and spirituality.

"Why am I here?" he asked the willow tree.

"You know why I have summoned you," a genderless voice spoke. Its sound did not reach his ears, but instead seemed to echo around his head. "It is time."

"Surely not. It can't be. The balance has only just been restored—"

"I would not call upon you if the need were not there," boomed the voice. "I sense a stirring in the balance. What delicate harmony exists now is under its greatest threat yet. Wheels of fate are starting to turn. Pieces are falling together and apart. The prophecy is almost upon us. You know what you must do."

The man kneeled his head further until it nearly touched the blades of grass. Sorrow and fear sowed their seeds in his heart; he knew that the willow was right. He had hoped that this time would come after his passing so he would not see the world plunged into chaos again, but the willow believed it was coming.

"Will you do what you must?" the willow asked.

"Yes," the man said through gritted teeth.

"Then you must go. The sands of time are running out quickly. I do not think I need to tell you what will happen if the prophecy is not fulfilled by the Equinox."

"I will fulfill my duties," said the man. "My destiny."

"May the Spirits guide you upon your journey. Go now, my son, and fulfill the role you were always meant to play."

The sentience in the tree faded away, but he knew he was still not alone in the glade. He raised his head and dared to look into the pond. Through the dark water, he could see movement. He strained to see. Soon two movements became clear to him. The more he focused, the more apparent they became.

Two koi fish swirled together in the water, one black, one white. Tui and La. What were they doing away from the Spirit Oasis?

The fish came closer to the surface, and he realized it wasn't Tui and La at all, just a vision of them. He watched them swim, push and pull, dark and light, Yin and Yang, until they were all he saw. They whispered things to him, things he would not recall immediately upon awakening, but things that would guide his movements for the next several months.

They released him and he flew skyward, up and away from the willow, from the glade, from the malnourished forest, up into the starless sky until everything faded to black.

The Dragon of the West awoke with a start. His skin was damp with sweat and his heart was hammering in his chest. He sat upright in his bed and looked out of the slats of the window. Pink dawn tinged the sky.

With a deep breath he collected himself for a moment before he stood and left his bedroom. He went into his study and sat at the desk, spreading out a sheet of parchment and readying his brush. With haste, he wrote several letters, closed them with his seal, and sent his messenger hawk off.

He then stepped out onto his porch and looked out over the sleeping city of Ba Sing Se. It was quiet and peaceful under the dawn light, but he felt the foreboding sense of doom heavily in the air. The feeling had been brewing for some time now, like the charged current in the air of a gathering storm, but he had repressed it, denying its existence. He could do that no longer.

The retired general Iroh, Dragon of the West, Grandmaster of the Order of the White Lotus, had been called to duty.

It was time.

Author's Note:

Firstly, I would like to thank everyone for reading and a special thank you to everyone who has left a review. This is an idea I've had hanging around in my head for a while, so I'm glad I can finally share it with all of you.

I'm trying to keep this canon-compliant (except for where it obviously can't be), but I am disregarding basically everything that happened after the comic, The Promise. While the general premise of The Search still happens (it's just that Katara wasn't there for an undisclosed reason, and obviously they find Zuko's mom and her husband and his sister, and Azula escapes).

There are also going to be some Original Characters and new aspects of the AtLA universe (although I am also trying to keep those canon-compliant as well). Again, thank you!