Aang didn't know what he had been expecting when he reached the North Pole, but what he got was more than he had hoped for. That wasn't very hard to top though. He barely believed he would make it.

Chief Arnook, from his icy ledge over the council, rubs over his eyes. He raises a gnarled hand and the current speaker lets his words drop.

"Enough." The two men look equally tired when they meet eyes. "We have discussed this many times before. We will not waste the Avatar's time, or in fact, the council's time with these foolhardy plans."

The advisor sighs and his breath wisps from his mouth like dragon's smoke for all to see.

"They are not foolhardy. I'm only looking into the future, once the kid's trained enough." Aang hunched a bit at his mention. "And unless you plan on stashing him here for the rest of his life, I don't understand why you're so against me." He folds his arms and sticks his chin up.

"This tribe has no intention of attacking anyone without provocation, regardless of any personal vendetta you have against them." The chief's voice drones, like he's repeated this line more than once.

"You're calling my wish of liberating the Earth Kingdom, and us, may I add, from the Fire Nation, a personal vendetta?" The man tips his head back and lets another sigh free. "Look, chief, we've been playing this for years now; but the Avatar is at our doorstep. In fact, he's right there, Arnook." A finger meets his gaze.

"I'm well aware of that."

The councilman shakes his head and continues. "Yes, he needs training. Do I think we go banging on the Fire Nation's door right now? Of course not. But I have no doubt that we cannot win this war without a fight. And all of you might as well get rid of that delusion right now."

Aang feels the unease in the room peak, he can't pinpoint why, but the wringing of hands and the overhead mumble and the turning of eyes to the floor tell him as much. He's not the only one who picks it up.

"Yes, I know it may seem a bit… beyond our reach right now. But you all remember how close we came before. How strong we were. Just remember how far we went under the banner of the Fire Prince!"

The crowd mumbles more as the man's voice fills with energy. "He united us and had the place painted green and gold before the Fire Nation knew what hit them! We can do it again!"

"You may fail to remember." Bitterness cracks at the edges of the chief's voice.

"But the Fire Prince is dead."

Their voices become background noise.

Since being broken free, Aang's world had become guided by a number of words muttered by a nameless man in a blue mask. Some became active shapers of his decisions, like go to the north, find a waterbender to teach you. Some meant nothing to him, but every word spoken that night had become engraved into his mind.

Etched in a rasping murmur: the Fire Prince is alive, the Fire Prince is alive.

The advisor has taken his seat again, eyes staring despondently at the floor, head shaking discreetly back and forth.

"…stop romanticizing the rebellions and see them as they were; rash, uncalled for violence that led to failure." Arnook stands. "If nothing else, we should learn from them. Council dismissed. And remember that we have festivities in honor of the Avatar's arrival later this evening."

The chief turns to face him and gives him a smile that he's sure is meant to be reassuring but only causes the air in the room to drop further. Aang swallows down his words and nods.

He waits until the crowd leaves. The advisor stays, tapping a worn boomerang on the tabletop.

He tells him the Fire Prince is alive. It may not have been the right time, the right place and he might not have even said it in the right way but Aang cared little for that.

The man sneers. "And who told you that?"

He tells him, the man in the blue mask.

The advisor's youthful facade ages as his face slackens, his eyes lose their focus and his mouth lilts into a frown.

When he turns back to face him, Aang has seen this look once before; it says you have failed me, I have no faith in you and I can barely tolerate your presence.

"Keep your mouth shut and go train."

It's what he'd been expecting from these people, but Aang still finds a knot wrapping around his throat. He swallows it down and leaves.

He was making quite a name for himself, as an aloof deity who strides through the streets with a scowl, air whipping like vines around him and who runs to the side of his pet bison in the face of pressure.

Sinking into the gnarls of Appa's fur, he couldn't bring himself to be worried.

"What am I doing, Appa?" He can feel the bison's chest sink as he roared. "Where did everything go so wrong?"

He strokes the blackened edge of fur, where a fireball had hit dead on, weeks ago. The ship that had split the iceberg was wedged in front of them, he remembers, and the red and black stuck out like a sore thumb. Then he'd introduced himself, which he's now learned can only lead to trouble, then he'd tried to run and the air underneath him started go glow.

That was the moment he figured out he was in a deeper mess than he thought; plummeting towards earth with Appa's wailing flooding his ears and the taste of ash on his tongue.

The next days were hazy with fear. Then a night at port. Then weeks hazy with fear interlaced with guilt. Then he was here.

He finds another sear on Appa's back and layers a handful of ice on it. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess."

Mess. A hundred year war was a little bit more than a mess.

He rubs his numbed hands together. "They must hate me. They won't say it, but they have all the right to." He doubts that he'd be able to handle it if they did voice it. "And they're even having a dinner for me, like I'm a hero. But I'm not, Appa, but they think so and I don't know if I can be who they want me to be."

The bison shook, effectively shooing Aang to the side. "What?" He nudges him more gently. He sees a speck of blue making its way out of the city walls towards the ice field where they sat. Aang stood. "I guess the least I could do is show up."

He meets her halfway; a young lady with hair brought back in loops and a smiling face but with eyebrows that creased and betrayed her worry.

"There you are, Avatar… uh, Aang. It's just the festival's about to start and I didn't want you to be late so…"

He tries to keep the mood light. "I wouldn't be late to my own party."

She smiles, "That's great. Come on I'll show you the way."

They walk side by side and Aang soon realizes he didn't really need the escort; everyone was making their way in the same direction.

"I know how easy it is to get lost in here. I remember when I first came, I kept thinking that all the ice looked the same."

"You're not from here?"

She shook her head. "I'm from the Southern Water Tribe. We ended up here after the rebellions. There wasn't much left back at home."

And whose fault had that been.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? There wasn't much you could do." She gives a nonchalant roll of her shoulders.

"But this is my fault. I'm probably the worst Avatar in history."

"Don't say that. I don't blame you for what happened to my home."

"Not just your home. Everything, this war – it's all my fault."

"No one blames you for that."

"Maybe not you…"

She scowled and sounded a little peeved, but not at him. "Who said it? Was it my brother? I saw you talking to him after the meeting, the idiot, why would he even say that? Oh, he'll hear about this later."

"No, it wasn't him. He never said anything."

"But he meant it right?"

"No! At least I don't think so? Can we change the topic?" He had no wish to get even deeper on that man's bad side.

She huffed. "Fine. But no more of this talk, okay." She shook her head with a little smile dancing on her lips. "Ever since I was a little girl, I'd imagine that the Avatar would save the world. He always gave me hope. Now I guess it's my turn."

"I don't know if I can be the Avatar you imagined."

"You can and you will. I'll be helping you." They were at the doorstep of the main square, where banners and music filled the air. The reality of the world outside hadn't penetrated the walls of the North Pole so everyone was full of cheer. The woman waved at him to join.

She smiled. "I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Katara and I'll be your waterbending teacher. If you'll accept me that is, Avatar."

The world outside is a haze when he steps into the square. "Of course I accept. And Aang is fine."

"Aah, there is our honored guest." Chief Arnook appears from behind. "Welcome. Pull out a chair, I'd like to make a toast to you, if you'd allow."

"I don't think I really deserve the recognition. I haven't even done anything."

"Nonsense. You've made it here haven't you? And it isn't just to celebrate what you've done, it's to celebrate what's to come."

"Okay…"

"I'll be off then. Avatar Aang, Master Katara."

"See Aang." She said once they'd taken their seats. "It doesn't matter what's happened, it's just moving forward from here."

"Yeah, okay." The deep roar of a drum rattles the air and Arnook begins his toast. It's full of praises and dreams of the future which the audience applauds . They call him a hero and he almost believes it.

The North is isolated in its bubble of safety; in here he is always the hero because he has never failed them. He knows enough about the rest of the world to not let the applause get to him. And of course, it's all etched in a rasping murmur.

Pins pricked up and down his spine, cold, like thousands of unwanted hands. The wind had a warm lilt to it. Quiet roamed the night harbor. He shivered and wound his arms around himself, tightly.

It's odd how he remembered it all, every footfall, every ring of metal on metal, every word whispered.

There were men in red and black armor scattered around him. His captors. They looked almost peaceful, laying there, motionless, like they were taking a well-deserved rest after a day of protecting their nation.

Aang shivered some more. Just out cold, he tells himself, they're just out cold.

The man in front of him doesn't spend a second to study his handiwork, instead sheaths his dao with not a hint of emotion.

Black suit, blue mask, a voice that seemed only to speak in whispers yet sound in roars, a knife that stayed untouched at its sheath and a burlap bag draped over a shoulder is what he remembers of his rescuer.

Then the mask is taken off. He can't remember everything, he doesn't know if his mouth had been in a frown or a sneer, arms crossed or clenched at his side, his bad eye closed or squinting, but he knows the words his face spoke before his mouth had ever opened.

Failure. You disgust me.

Aang held himself tighter.

"You're late, Avatar."

.

.

.

AN:

It's not just Aang who's late. I'm sorry.

This stems from the fact that I was in turbulence over how I wanted to write this: short, sweet, not one word more than needed or long and adventury or mysterious and riveting. Frankly, I'm still not sure. Then there was the problem that the first chapter might not fit this new form and it stressed me a bit. Also, this story is definitely going to be more than the 5 chapters I said before.

I know it's hard to make sense of, so here are some facts that you can find in the chapter if you read it a couple of times over. But this is fanfiction, who does that?

-Aang was recently cracked out of his iceberg due to a Fire Nation ship crashing into it. He's captured then rescued by the guy in the blue mask. The guy tells him to go north, which he does.

- Sokka was the advisor at the start. He and Katara are older than they were in the show.

-The rebellions didn't go well, Sokka and Katara were a part of them.

Hopefully, I'll update faster this time. I really hope you stick along with this story because it's quite an adventure to write and hopefully read as well. Also, as more facts are uncovered, reading past chapters become more fun as you can say 'hey, I got that reference!'