Author's note: This scene parallels the end of Blue Spirit, though with some slight differences in timing.

As always, comments and suggestions are welcome.

Lastly, do the interlude letters work as they are, or are they confusing? Should they be segregated into their own chapters?

Fire Lady Azula,

You will find only bitter cold weather at the Southern Water Tribes, especially this time of year. There are only a handful of daylight hours and it's been unseasonably cold. I would strongly suggest you wait a few months before coming. If this isn't possible, we would of course gladly welcome a visit from the Avatar and his family. Much has changed in the South since Fire Lord Aang's last visit almost a decade ago. I doubt either of you would recognize it today. Our ports and cities, once destroyed and lost to the ice, now team with life and bustling economies. It really is a sight to behold.

How are your little ones? I understand Bumi takes after you and has the makings of a powerful firebender, now. How has he taken to affairs of state? You must be so proud. I've also heard that Kyala rides the air possibly better than Aang. Is it true that Aang lost to his daughter in last spring's 13th annual Father-Daughter airbender race. I owe a certain young woman some penguin rides.

I admit, just thinking about them makes me lament the fact that I never settled down to have a family of my own. I have so many duties to handle and projects to oversee here. You would not believe the full grown adults I must beg and cajole to do just about anything. Rebuilding a nation is a bit like raising a family in that way, I suppose.

Please give Aang my best and let him know we look forward to seeing all of you.

Katara

P.S. If you do decide to come, please bundle yourselves warmly. The last delegation sent from the Fire Nation was woefully unprepared for the bitter cold of this time of year.

P.P.S. We're plagued with a small infestation of hawk-rats in the Harbor City. They're wreaking minor havoc with the reconstruction efforts, in particular the harbor and industrial areas. If you have any suggestions on treatment, I would be able to spare much more of my time during your visit.

I did what I could for the poor boy in what time I had: removed the arrows, bandaged his wounds, even provided some potent medicines to help him rest. He babbled incoherently while I worked. Names and places that had no meaning for me. Events from long ago, when the airbender cities rose above the clouds. Moments of thrills followed by a deep sadness. Strange, though, that when I asked him about the previous night his eyes glazed over somewhat - as if he couldn't bring himself to remember some terror that haunted him still.

His body would mend in time and obviously I did a decent job, if I do say so myself. He lived a long and full life. And yet, I don't think he was ever the same. For the few minutes I met him, he seemed so full of life - worried, anxious even, but brimming with confident energy. The night changed him irrevocably. He would have a long and difficult journey, it's true. Still, he turned out alright in the end.

Hmm… now where was I? Ah, yes.

I've been around long enough to recognize instruments of war. While I didn't recognize the insignia etched into the shaft, those arrows were made in particularly Fire Nation style. Having lost their quarry the Fire Nation would return in force. The boy's singular hope depended upon his friends would come for him and soon. I busied myself as best as I could. I started making a new batch of horse-bat deterrent. It looked like thick yellow puss, tasted of pure awful, but smelled of mint and zest with that hint of kidney stone. The exercise took my mind off of the boy that slept quietly in the back room, at least for a while.

It wasn't long before a young man walked through my door. Thin and muscular with a mostly shaven head and a wolf's tail. He sniffed and took in my institute as if trying to determine if the windows could be used in some daring escape. He held himself with a mixture of confidence and anxiety as he approached my work bench. A young woman with long brown hair and blue eyes quietly walked in and made herself busy examining the the garden. Similar style clothes, similar skin tone - they looked to be together.

"Hi, we're looking for a friend of ours. Perhaps you've seen him. Short, bald, arrow tattoo on his head? He said he would stop by here last night."

"An arrow tattoo? Didn't your parents teach you that airbenders died out a long time ago? They were gone before I was a twinkle in my father's eye. He used to tell me story of airbenders in their prime, you know, before the Fire Nation attacked. Strange. It's rumored that the Fire Nation never killed the avatar in the initial attack, despite their proclamations. He may even be alive today! Wouldn't that just be crazy?"

The young man visibly blanched. In the coming months, this became kind of a game for me. Sokka, as he introduced himself to me later, was so easily rattled.

"You - uh - you don't say. Hey, what are you making? Porridge?" Before I could stop him, he'd scooped up a dollop of the horse-bat deterrent with his finger and put it in his mouth. I waited patiently at the door of the institute while the Sokka gargled water from a skin and spit profusely into the bushes. The young woman merely rolled her eyes and kept looking around. I did my best to keep my eyes on both of them. Kids in those days. The fog remained like an ocean just beneath the peak the institute sat upon. It blanketing the landscape as far as the eye could see despite the sun sitting high in the sky. And there, resting near the top of the steps was a flying bison.

He was quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. Large and fluffy, like a cloud made snuggable. His soft fur waved inviting in the wind. I longed to wrap myself in his fur. Here, before me, was a creature of legend and it was exactly how I imagined the beast as a child. He rested on his side and I could hear his soft breathing from where he lay against the archway. His brown eyes peered at me with a nervous energy, not unkind, but not spritely, either.

With the evidence resting comfortably before me, I made my decision to trust Sokka and his companion, introduced later as his sister, Katara. I reasoned that if a flying bison brought them here, surely they must be friends with the boy. Sokka looked about done with his troubles. I left his sister to her own devices.

"That boy you were asking about, what was his name?"

From inside the institute came Katara's horrified scream, "AANNGG!" immediately followed by a loud thump like a sack of potatoes hitting stone floors.

"Katara!" Sokka yelled and scrambled inside, all pretenses of being ill dropped.

"No, don't!" I shouted at him and tried to grab hold of his robe as he bolted past me, but I was too slow. No, too old. I heard his feet pound down the institute halls until he, too, dropped unconscious at the threshold of the boy's room. I could only shake my head and waved in a placating manner at the now very alert flying bison.

"They're fine. Everything's going to be just fine." I tried to sound reassuring. Which one of us I tried to reassure I could not tell.

"I hope."