Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender
Betaed by: Zim'smostloyalservant & Trackula
War of Nations
Chapter 2
Reunions
The world spread before him, vast in size and races. Borders that had blurred and fallen, to be replaced with new, ever-shifting lines. The painted markings of cities living and dead. The length and breadth of mountains, and the courses of rivers. Then there were the pieces, the tiles, armies, and individuals of reverence on all sides marked. Some pieces were standard; other tiles were unique.
Information flowed from across his nation, and through spies and informants from the lands of his enemies. With the exception of the black pit that was Ba Sing Se, this map table was very much the world.
Ozai often came to this room in these late hours of the night. It was always tightly guarded, and a word from him to the guards would see anyone who happened to be using it evicted.
The Earth King might claim to be a god, but looking down on this map, Fire Lord Ozai imagined he could feel what a god felt.
But not this night. This night, despite his fires, a chill that he had only felt three times before in his life clung to him.
The tile was not new; it had sat his entire life in the shallow bin marked for those important figures whose location was unknown to the point that even an educated guess would be a disservice to the grand war map. A four-colored tile with a single word.
"Avatar," Ozai whispered. It sat in the Southern Water Tribe territory now, laid to indicate the last heading Kazuko had reported for her quarry. A flying bison… air power had been the true reason for such a through genocide – such power could reshape warfare itself.
But it was only one, and so was the Avatar.
His eyes slid to the two markers near it. The "Dragon of the West" and the "First Princess". He knew those tiles would be colliding again; she would not let her prey escape. Never mind that Sozin, one of the greatest Firebenders in history, had fallen in defeat before an Avatar. Or that even as a weak as this Avatar might be, she was no Sozin.
Yet what choice did he have but to let this play out?
"Beloved husband," A woman's voice greeted him.
Ah, that voice, so very self assured, purring, sultry, and low. Impossible to ignore, he admitted, even though he could hardly recall it ever being raised. And wasn't that something? The royal family was known to be loud – even Ursa had exceptional lungs when she had been motivated enough.
Another difference between his wives, Ozai thought as he turned his back on the world to greet his wife.
"My honorable wife, what keeps you awake so late?" he asked. As ever, she was well dressed in the colors of royalty, though gold held favor over black or red in the design. Her beautiful face was framed by the forelocks of her short hair that fell around it in shapes that had long put him in mind of claws. One apparently had strayed enough that she lifted a hand to brush it aside, showing off her red painted nails.
Her full lips smiled, though it did not quite reach her eyes. Grey eyes; another thing that set her apart, they reminded of the winters he had seen traveling abroad. Unlike Ursa, she was someone who enjoyed make up. Particularly around her eyes, giving her the look that reminded him of a hawk.
"This changes things, husband," Fire Lady Miyo stated the obvious with that sad smile of hers.
"Hardly, it only means an elusive enemy is now trackable," he answered.
"It was one thing to send that girl in exile to the colonies and wrap it up as a quest, dear husband. But now, this is a matter of the war. The Fire Nation needs to be represented by more than the least of the family and an old dog who has forgotten how to bite," she told him as he turned back to the map.
"Woman, do not insult my daughter so," the Fire Lord commanded calmly.
"Forgive me, that was uncalled for. She is far above Prince Lu Ten," the Fire Lady bowed her head in apology, walking up to join him in surveying the world. He spoke before she could follow up on her words.
"It was not so long ago that useless excuse for a Prince was looked on as a future Fire Lord. Fortunes can change quickly; he is an excellent model to use to impress that lesson on both my heirs.
"We will discuss this matter at length later, and Princess Kazuko's role; the heirs will take part. For now, leave me," he ordered. She bowed to him, smiling, even though he had given no indication when he would want to meet with the heirs, and her.
"I will await you in our bed. You have been so tense lately, my husband, it's time you let your wife properly do her duty by you," she told him in that same purr. He gave no answer or acknowledgment. She left without a word, off to await him with all the tricks of her other craft.
But for now, he lingered alone, above the world, looking down at two tiles that were far too close.
When the Fire Lord did depart, a wall hanging stirred as a hidden observer revealed himself. Making his way silently to the table, he leapt up onto it and searched for the tile he needed. Spying it, he picked it up and gingerly gripped it between his teeth.
Then he was off, leaving as he came through a hidden exit useless to anyone else. Safely away from the forbidden room, he could move quickly and a tad bit less stealthily. Reaching the door he wanted, one red furred paw scratched at the door.
It wasn't loud, but his appeal was heard regardless, and the door opened a crack, letting the fire ferret scurry in. Safe now, he stood on his hind legs, tilting his muzzle up, presenting the prize. His master kneeled as she took the tile between two fingers. Her other hand began to scratch behind his ears.
"Well done, Sneak," she congratulated him.
Enjoying the attention, he fell backward, exposing his belly. Rather than receiving that, he found himself picked up and placed in his basket. Looking up from the cushion, he saw her rotate the tile in her clever fingers.
He was not alarmed when the tile burst into flames. He was used to that. Even the fact that the flames were blue.
She spat one word, "Avatar."
Not that he understood. He only saw she seemed to finally be settling down to sleep, so Sneak did the same.
XXX
Sunrise, the dawn of a new day. Aang had always been a morning person, but he had learned to love the sunrise from Kuzon. For the Fire Nation, rising with the sun was spiritual and not just practical. Thinking of the Fire Nation brought the scarred Princess and the war to mind, but he shook that off with the practiced ease of an Air Nomad.
Or so he claimed to himself as he and Katara prepared Appa's saddle for flight.
"You're going to love the Southern Air Temple, Katara, it's one of the most beautiful places in the world. Each temple is unique, especially the Western one. But all were meant to inspire and lift up anyone who made the journey to look upon them," Aang told her. She returned his smile with clear nervousness.
She had been excited earlier by the warming weather as they went north. It turned out she was seeing trees for the first time. Being a nomad, you tended to lose sight of how little some people tended to travel. He was already making a list of places to show her, all on the way to the North Pole, of course.
His pleasant fantasy of impressing Katara with the wonders of the world, his worldly knowledge of them and what not, was ended by her talking.
'Pay attention, girls like it when you pay attention!' Aang chastised himself. He had gotten that bit of advice from Bumi. Though he was not planning on testing Bumi's other advice on women; he was pretty sure that as not a valid use for perfectly good cabbage.
"Aang, remember, the Air Temples were attacked. The Fire Nation is ruthless, there may no be much left," Katara cautioned.
"The temple is on top of a mountain, literally. How could they even get there without being spotted? I told you, the Abbot was already worried about the war, he wouldn't have let something horrible like a massacre happen," Aang answered her.
Before Katara could press this line of thought, Aang had leapt clear of Appa to alight next to Sokka, still snoring in his blue sleeping bag.
"Sun's up Sokka, and Appa's ready to fly. Air Temple time!" Aang cheered, crouching by the tribesman.
"Rakbracken," Sokka grumbled, rolling onto his side to face away from Aang.
"Oh, still sleeping?" Aang asked. He was answered with more non-words from the sleeping bag.
Hmm, how to get his sleepy friend going? He could call Katara over, but that seemed like it would violate a code of men.
Oh, he knew what would get the older boy moving.
"It's Kazuko, and she's angry at YOU!" Aang yelled, giving a watching Katara the thumb's up. Sokka came out of the bag like water from a geyser, half naked and frantically looking around, holding his boomerang.
"Where? Where?" Sokka demanded frantically.
"You sleep with Boomerang?" Katara asked, a bit disconcerted. Sokka stopped his jumping around to look at his weapon of choice.
"Don't you judge me," he declared, putting it on his belt. Which was already too loose, letting his pants fall away, leaving him standing on the beach in his underwear in the sunrise.
"This is going to be a greaaat day, isn't it?" Sokka asked the universe.
"It sure is," Aang agreed.
XXX
"Princess Kazuko, what do you remember about Commander Zhao?" Iroh asked, as their vessel limped into the fortified port. The two royals stood wit the lieutenant on the main deck, waiting as the helmsman steered them toward the designated pier
"He seemed quietly full of himself. Just another officer taking his time in palace politics before returning to battle to try and better his hand. Wasn't he a captain?" Kazuko answered abruptly. She was admittedly preoccupied, taking the base in.
Even though utilitarian in layout, the base was Fire Nation; it was part of home, despite the distance.
Fire Lord Azulon had perpetrated a belief that proximity to the capital reflected one's stature. Part of his strategy to better manage the nobility, by both keeping them concentrated in the capital and being able to disgrace them simply by banishing them from that city.
Small wonder the colonial program had weakened under his rule. Sozin the Great had given land to his peasant soldiers from the territories they conquered and sought to transplant the Fire Nation amidst the Earth Kingdom to strengthen their rule. And of course, as part of the Phoenix Plan.
But Azulon had been a Fire Lord of a different cut. Or perhaps he despised the far reaches of the world his father had both vanished into in his search for the Avatar and the lands he himself had conquered?
It had only been since her father came to the throne that colonization and domestic rule had reasserted itself over the martial fixation of Azulon's reign. There would be a village outside the base, Fire Nationals, and stores with the products of the homeland. Maybe she could finally restock on some proper umeshu?
"Zhao is a ladder climber, Princess. His family is old, proud, and was impoverished before the war. He is a noted apolitical officer; supposedly he focuses loyalty solely on the Fire Lord himself," Iroh told her.
"No wonder father promoted him. People are tactless and foolish. Our family is longevous; who is to say Father won't sit on the throne for another sixty years? And yet they obsess over succession," Kazuko chuckled.
"We both know Ozai will not leave a question behind. Why else would you push Azula so hard to surpass your brother? Such clumsy lying – you remind me of my own son," Iroh shook his head. Placing her arms behind her back, she fixed him with a glare.
"I certainly hope you are referring to him as a warrior, and not the broken man languishing back in the palace," Kazuko snapped. Her uncle flinched, and her expression softened.
"That was uncalled for, I apologize. But why the interest in Zhao, Uncle? A Commander is significant, but hardly a great player without allies," Kazuko admitted.
"My point exactly. Zhao may believe in the Fire Nation, but he is a hungry man who was raised on tales of lost glory and power. Such men do not dream small. If he has not entered the game of the court in earnest, it is because he is employing neutral Jin.
"He is waiting for the right time to make his move. Patience is not a quality our people are known for. Those who possess it are even more dangerous than the reckless. Be cautious when dealing with this man, Princess Kazuko," Iroh cautioned her.
"Perhaps you are right. But what use would the Scarred Princess be to such a man?" she asked, as the mooring lines were tossed by the crew.
"Looks like the Commander has come out to welcome us," Lt. Jee remarked as the gangplank was secured. Iroh noted the man seemed rather nonchalant about the approach of a high-ranking officer. Hopefully spending time in close proximity to a Princess and mostly-retired General had not rusted his martial etiquette. After all, many officers were all too keen to punish a subordinate for breaches of respect. And Zhao, for all his smiles, struck Iroh as just that sort of officer.
"Of course he is here. After all, the Dragon of West warrants his attention," Kazuko remarked, glancing to her uncle.
"Perhaps, but let's go down and say hello. I recall you wanted to get repairs and resupply underway soon," Iroh remarked, taking the first step down. The trio reached the pier just as Zhao arrived, escorted by a pair of Captains. The tall, middle-aged man with the sideburns smiled and bowed respectfully, his escorts following suit.
"The 3rd South Fleet Naval Base is proud to host the First Princess and the legendary Dragon of the West. We are ready to supply your expedition with whatever you require," Zhao greeted them.
'Well, isn't that interesting?' Iroh thought, keeping his Pai Sho face. It was rare for anyone to address Kazuko first. Iroh, by his age and reputation, was seen to command more respect. Zhao's actions were technically correct – despite the political climate, Kazuko was legally and therefore socially as much an heir as Azula or young Urzon.
"Commander Zhao, congratulations on your promotion since last we met," Kazuko answered evenly. It amounted to permission to rise, which the men did.
"I am pleased to serve my Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, Princess. But let us adjourn to the base proper. When I heard you were bound here, I commanded a banquet be prepared. Naturally the fare, and the company, will be far from the standards of the palace, but I offer you what civilization can be found in this corner of the world," the Commander informed them, standing aside to indicate the base.
"That is very tempting, but Princess Kazuko is determined to resume the hunt for the Avatar," Iroh spoke up.
"Naturally, but I believe your lieutenant can provide my crews with all the information needed to repair and resupply the ship. And with that, the task will go no quicker with you two denying yourselves a respite from the hardships of your journey.
"And consider my men – how rare it is for the officers of this base to see the royal family they fight for in the flesh? Or have the chance to share fine tea with the Dragon of the West himself?" Zhao continued, stepping forward.
"We will be honored to receive your hospitality," Kazuko said, stepping forward. Iroh kept his face straight as Zhao gave the first convincing smile of the encounter.
"Excellent, I have a chilled bottle of umeshu prepared. A drink of the elite, without a doubt. I rarely have appropriate company to enjoy it with," Zhao said as he and Kazuko walked off. Iroh shot Jee a sympathetic look, the turned to follow after.
'At least knowing Zhao, there will be ginseng tea,' Iroh thought. Zhao would have what he needed to impress any superiors, or treat himself.
XXX
"Aang, Katara, what happened to the seal jerky I packed?" Sokka called over the wind. Appa was flying over the mountains, and frankly, Sokka was wondering why Air Nomads didn't wear warmer clothes with these winds.
"Oh," Aang said from his spot at the reins.
"Oh? Oh what? I do not like the sound of that 'oh'," Sokka narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
"Well, I didn't realize that was food. I used it as kindling for the fire. I thought it was something the Water Tribe might do, wood being valuable down there and all," Aang said, turning around, looking embarrassed.
"Vegetarians, what you going to do, eh Sokka?" Katara laughed. Sokka was giving Aang a murder stare, holding the empty jerky bag. And frankly, Katara wasn't too pleased herself. She may not have been quite the passionate carnivore, but she was still a Southern girl. No meat was not a happy time for her.
"What are we doing here, again?" Sokka demanded, stashing the bag.
"To see what happened to the Air Nomads," Aang reiterated.
"Aang, we know what happened, the world does. Sozin's Comet came and the Fire Nation attacked the four Air Temples and hunted down the Air Nomads until none remained.
"Granted, that was a hundred years ago, but don't you think Kazuko or someone would have been by to check?" Sokka stated.
"Sokka, you don't understand – people can talk all they want, but the Air Temples were built so only flyers can reach them. And I doubt the Fire Nation had sky bison," Aang said, patting Appa on the head. The bison bellowed deeply, as if in agreement.
"Only Airbenders, eh?" Sokka muttered, unconvinced. At least Katara wasn't blocking him here. They had talked earlier, and agreed Aang would be in denial until he saw some proof. The difference was that Sokka seemed to the only one concerned about their health if the Avatar had a grief episode while they were trapped on top of a mountain.
As for Aang's claim of inaccessibility, he could easily picture the like of Kazuko bundled up and armed with climbing gear, scaling peaks to burn the village, or temple, as the case would be.
'Home,' Aang thought, as he guided Appa through the familiar peaks. Even the mountains may change with time, he had been taught, proof of how fleeting any secular achievement or ambition was in the end. Yet they loomed about him and Appa now as they had countless times before. Guiding him home, as they had generations of Nomads.
Despite everything, he braced himself for that sight. The towers of the Southern Air Temple rising in serene splendor, presiding over the lesser structures like teachers over a class. And amidst them the flights of lemurs, bison, and monks of all ages and orders, sharing the same boundless sky.
The clouds cleared, and revealed to his eyes the first sight of home.
There was no gasp, no outburst of tears, and hardly even a widening of the eyes or a tightening of the jaw. Only a feeling of emptiness opening up that made him unknowingly tighten his grip on the reins, least the wind tear him away, as he felt like everything had drained out of him in an instant.
The temple was beautiful even in ruin, the siblings both thought. The three great towers, one still standing unbroken against the sky. And the ruins amidst the lush growth that had sprung up from what had clearly once been gardens. But the wind itself seemed to carry notes of a sad song.
The world was quiet here, as they looked on the ruin of a glory that had passed from the world.
XXX
Kazuko slightly twirled the saucer of umeshu, letting the scent of the sweet plum wine flow freer. The bottle had been emptied, and after finishing this drink the plums that had marinated in the bottle would be the final experience of the beverage. A lovely experience; she had to admit Zhao had delivered on his promise of a good bottle.
Though it was vexing to notice he had lied about enjoying umeshu himself. He clearly looked more to the tea or sake at the table, his satisfaction at the wine too forced. A pity to waste it on someone who didn't like it, as she had said the many times her uncle had tried to initiate her into his cult of tea.
The meal, as Zhao had admitted, was not up to palace standards. But far above the galley hall on the ship, or the inns of occupied ports. The food was Fire Nation, presented properly, and even some atmosphere by an admittedly talented samisen player.
Her uncle was certainly in his element. Zhao had not given him a place with them at the head of the table, asking him instead to entertain his officers for morale. Now that the meal was done, discussion could begin in earnest as the men old and young prodded him politely for accounts of his campaigns while refilling his teacup.
Deciding she had savored it enough, she drained the last sip of umeshu and set down the saucer. Zhao smiled and scratched the skin below his right ear.
"General, though you have retired from the field, it is well known you are a master of Pai Sho," one of the older captains stated.
"Master is an exaggeration; old men merely need such exercise to keep their minds sharp," Iroh waved the flattery off.
Soon enough, a board was being set up for the old General to play a young first officer who was apparently the base champion.
At which point, Zhao rose.
"Perhaps the Princess would care to tour the gardens? My predecessor found solace in the hobby, and it is respectable if not remarkable," Zhao said, extending a hand.
Kazuko ate the last of the umeshu plums, enjoying the flavor and texture. And using it as a moment to think. He wanted to get her alone, as Uncle too seemed to realize. It would be very rude to bow out of a match in front of so many people. Especially as a guest here. And insisting on accompanying them in such a setting would practically be a declaration that he expected Zhao, their host, to take liberties.
Well played, she conceded. Of course, if she declined, it would come to nothing.
"I would certainly like to see these gardens. I am sure the men would appreciate not having to restrain themselves for the sake of a lady's presence," she said.
"Good luck in your game, Uncle. It would not do for you to lose," she told her clearly irritated relative.
XXX
Katara watched Aang's back as they walked up the trail. She had been surprised they had not landed in the midst of the temple proper. Appa wasn't a boat where you have to use a dock or sheltered shore, after all. She wondered if he had wanted to spare the bison a closer look of their ruined home.
The sky bison was no dumb animal, that was for certain. She didn't know if that was typical of his race or the result of his bond with Aang. Some of the Air Nomad stories she had heard had them forming spirit bonds with animals and being able to command them better than any trainer. Or that they could speak to the buried dead of other nations, by meditating over their tombs on the anniversary of their deaths.
Until a few days ago, Air Nomads were just another fantastic story of the strange old world. The reality and legend no longer mattered.
Looking at him, it was so easy to forget he was the Avatar. He was the hope of the free nations and the destined bane of the Fire Nation.
And now he was far more quiet and reserved than she had ever seen him. She almost walked into his back when he stopped to look off the trail. He pointed to a spot below them, a field with some mass littering it. She realized there were a few columns of wood standing; the mass must have been toppled ones, with a hundred years of rot and growth.
"That's where we used to play Air Ball. It started as a training exercise hundreds of years ago, but it became just as much about entertainment and leisure as keeping skills sharp," Aang told them. The three of them were looking at the same spot, but Aang was seeing something quite different from them.
XXX
Sokka gave himself an internal pat on the back for asking Aang to explain the rules of Air Ball. Distracting Aang from his issues wasn't a long-term solution, but it could help in the meantime.
Especially as they entered the temple complex. It looked like… well, what he supposed the old Water Tribe towns would look like if ice and whalebone kept like stone and wood.
Fire blasts tearing through solid stone, he noted with grim interest. So this is the power of Sozin's Comet, an army given the power of master benders.
Aang pointed out some gardens, which apparently still sported much of their old yield. Though more like a vegetable abundant meadow now. Sokka nodded with approval when Aang told them the monks bred produce to be hearty as well as abundant and delicious. He gained another notch of respect for the vanished nation; they too had realized food was serious business.
Sokka decided to break the silence as they made their way through the ruined complex toward one of the towers that constituted what Sokka was labeling the Main Temple.
"It's funny, but the further in we go, the less damage there seems to be. Dad always taught me that in a situation like this you fall back to regroup. And those towers don't look nearly as bad as I would expect. You would think the Firebenders would have had to bring them down to get to the Air Nomads," he observed, looking over the progressively more intact buildings.
"Sokka, avoid and evade is the most basic tenet of combat for Airbenders. They wouldn't let themselves be boxed into the towers, they would have escaped to the sky," Aang said dryly. At that moment, they arrived at the open space before the tower. Yet again, they were brought up short.
"…Aang, I am very glad you left Appa back there," Sokka gulped. The ground before them was littered with massive skeletons, with familiar shaped skulls and six legs, and they knew tailbones would be revealed on closer inspection. The wind whistled sadly amidst the remains of dozens, maybe a hundred sky bison. And it seemed the scene was the same at the base of the other towers from this vantage point.
Sokka could see it in his head. The monks had tried to flee after regrouping in the temple and gathering their bison. Probably the best warriors, or such as they had, fighting at the outskirts to buy precious time. And they had emerged. And found fire between them and the sky.
Turning away to the ruins they had passed through, the imagined battle continued, the bison burned, like Appa willing to die letting their riders and passengers escape that first wave. They probably still had staffs, and when the first were shot down tried to fight their way through even as the first defenders died.
It must have been so well planned. Or had the innocent monks been so stunned by the death and violence brought to their door their mastery of their element had been undone? These temples were always meant to be places of peace, and war had come to them first.
Once again he saw Kazuko taking part, that same intensity he had witnessed before. Sweating as flames and screams surrounded her. Discarding furs as she got into the motions. Then the armor beneath, and tearing her pink tunic off of her fine firm-
TONK TONK TONK
"Sokka?" Katara asked. Her brother was frowning very hard and banging his brow softly into a tree.
"What's… wrong with him?" Aang asked.
"I've been asking for years. Still no good answers," Katara sighed. She grabbed his wolf tail to stop the banging.
"Stupid, stupid, sexy enemy," he grumbled under his breath.
"What was that?" Katara cocked an eyebrow at more non-words from her brother.
"Feel free to ignore me, I'm just gong insane from hunger and thin air," Sokka waved their concern off.
Katara frowned at her brother's antics at a time like this, but saw Aang dusting snow off a statue before the tower entrance. The stone likeness of a mustached monk wearing a medallion was oddly intact.
Leaving Sokka to resume his head banging if he wanted, she joined Aang at the statue of the meditating monk.
"Who is that Aang? The temple founder?" Katara asked. The old man looked very kind, despite being depicted in hard stone.
"No, this is monk Gyatso, my mentor. He was the only one to not treat me differently after it was revealed I was the avatar," Aang told them. Nodding to himself, he turned to address his friends.
"Okay, listen, there is someone I need to go see. I think they've been waiting long enough," Aang declared.
XXX
The gardens were a disappointment to Kazuko after the banquet. The low hedges were well arranged, and the paths well laid. But there were too few trees, and no pond either. Even with the base walls boxing it in, it felt exposed, stunted.
As they reached the circular area in the center, she saw it was marked by an engraving of the Fire Nation crest. Properly patriotic, but it seemed out of place in a garden.
"So Commander, you wished to speak to me alone?" Kazuko pointed out as Zhao lead her onto the crest.
"Indeed, Princess Kazuko. While I may respect your uncle, he is a thing of the past. Whereas I am a man who looks to the future. As you should," the Commander said, turning to face her.
"Hunting the Avatar is occupying my time right now. I think focusing on that first and foremost is the responsible course of action," she answered quickly.
"A proper answer, but we both know even the most loyal are not without their own goals.
"Let us say you did capture the Avatar, and returned home? Then what? The Dragon faction valued you for your role in raising Princess Azula, but that time has passed. The Little Dragon no longer needs a nanny, and you were never more than that in the royal family. What value would you have to your father, or to your sister? What purpose, beyond the traditional role of daughters of powerful men?" Zhao did not quite smile with that last question.
"If I return with the Avatar I will be recognized as…" she began, but trailed off. Zhao shook his head sadly.
"The Scarred Princess, known only as the one who was marked by Azulon's final act of cruelty, and as the untalented of the three children of Fire Lord Ozai.
"You were able to make yourself useful by pushing and nurturing Princess Azula the same way the Fire Lady has Prince Urzon. But as I said, it is an obsolete role. And even if your name were hailed for such a great deed as capturing the Avatar, people would know it was the fallen hero General Iroh that was truly responsible. And you would still be nothing but a pawn to be used to better secure your sister's claim or further your father's rule," Zhao continued.
"Is there a point to this?" Kazuko demanded.
"Yes. The first point is that even though you have flushed the Avatar out, the Fire Lord has not put any additional resources at your disposal. The best you can hope for is desperately chasing a sky bison around the world, hoping to catch the Avatar before he reaches a place you cannot follow.
"How far can you see? How fast can you run?
"I, on the other hand, have connections spread far to inform me, and many hands to reach out and seize what I desire," Zhao smiled. He waved his hand to take in the whole base as a sign of the power he spoke of.
"And as Commander, you are bond to the base and squadron you command," Kazuko pointed out.
"But when I am Admiral of the Southern Fleet, I will answer only to the High Command and Fire Lord," Zhao informed her.
"…After Commander is the rank of Vice Admiral, then Admiral," she reminded him.
"I plan to jump the ranks with a double promotion shortly," he admitted. Kazuko actually laughed a moment at that. Zhao scowled, eyes blazing, but composed his features.
"You need only wait, Princess – it will come to pass sooner than you, or most anyone, expects. And you must admit, an alliance with an Admiral would make your desperate quest far less desperate," Zhao pressed.
"An alliance, with you? Wouldn't that amount to abandoning your neutrality?" Kazuko mused, stroking her chin.
"There is a time to hold back, and a time to enter the fray. But never mind the details now. I only ask that when you hear of my rise in the ranks, we speak again. When you have proof of my power," Zhao offered.
"…Very well. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be getting back. Uncle can behave rather shamefully if left unsupervised," Kazuko said, bowing her head respectfully.
"By all means," he acquiesced, returning the gesture. Raising his head, he watched the young woman walk away. Not bad, despite armor rather than silks, not bad from behind at all, he noted. That would make matters more pleasant down the line.
XXX
"That is one fancy door," Sokka remarked. The interior of the tower was better looking than the outside. Not nearly as many holes in things as he had expected. And most impressively, the stone door before them was intact. It seemed to have plumbing worked into it, oddly enough.
"What's in there, Aang?" Katara asked. It had the Air Nomad crest on it, and she suppressed a smirk, noticing old scorch marks on parts of it. Apparently, some things couldn't be destroyed even with the Comet.
"I don't know. Gyatso told me that when the time was right, I would meet someone in there. Someone who would guide me on my journey to assume the mantle and responsibilities of being the Avatar.
"It can only be opened by an airbending master. Guess it's time for me to say hello," Aang told them, stepping back from the door. They watched him harness his element and direct a visible wind into the ancient pipes. Before their eyes, the mechanism was triggered, letting the door swing open for the first time in generations.
Aang pulled it the rest of the way open and motioned for them to join him. The three stepped through and found themselves in a gallery of stone.
"Wow, Airbender statues?" Sokka asked as they entered the valued gallery. Katara shook her head, waking up to a statue of a woman, who was clearly Water Tribe. Next in line were a strapping Earth Kingdom man, a Fire Nation man, and finally an Air Nun.
"It's the Avatar Cycle. Aang, these must be all your past lives," Katara realized. Aang took a step back, looking up at the walls. The siblings joined him and saw there were two more stories, with still more statues crowding their own levels above.
"Wow. I knew the Avatar was ancient, but there are so many," Aang whispered. Katara nodded her head. Sokka made a thoughtful sound, looking over the statues, his eyes lingering on the Firebenders.
"If you believe in that reincarnation stuff, anyway. I mean, who's to say it's not just a position, passing from one to the next? I mean, you expect me to believe Aang here was that pretty woman in a past life? Or that bruiser in the one before that? Or that guy with the feather cape over there? I mean, seriously," Sokka said, pointing out different statues.
"Sokka, reincarnation is one of the prized beliefs of my people," Aang laughed.
"Well, it's a prized belief by the Earth Kingdom that their King is a god. And the Fire Nation have this thing about it being their right to kill us all and take our stuff. So please excuse me for not buying that just because some old guys said so," Sokka rolled his eyes. Aang smiled at his friend's antics.
After all, in his travels he had seen that people could believe some crazy things. And unlike other teachers, Gyatso had stressed that different beliefs do not breed conflict or discord; harmony is broken when we let those differences become more important than what makes us the same.
'Is the teacher you intended for me still here, Monk Gyatso?' Aang wondered. He had moved closer to the center of the room, following the spiral of the Avatar succession. He paused a moment looking up at a very tall woman, Earth Kingdom. She reminded him of what he had expected Queens to look like when he was taught about royalty. But it was the next one, the last one, which grabbed his attention.
A Firebender, old, with a distinguished beard and wearing ornate robes that reminded him a bit of the Sages of that nation. Not exactly, though. Perhaps Avatars have special uniforms? Or did they adapt? Some were dressed pretty outlandishly, while others looked formal. He had seen that at a glance.
Avatar Roku, to his surprise, was wearing a crown worked into his Fire Nation topknot. He knew Avatars could never rule a nation and were discouraged to participate in any government save for a temporary measure. So why would he wear, much less be depicted with, a symbol of the Fire Nation royalty?
And why did it make him feel like he was looking at those dead bison to see that stone crown now?
"Who is this?" Katara asked.
"Avatar Roku, the Avatar before me," Aang said.
"…How did I know that?" Aang asked with clear worry. He had thought it a second ago, but come to think of it, other than knowing that a Firebender had preceded him and dealt with Sozin before his death, he knew noting of Roku, not even his name much less his appearance before today.
He looked intently at the stone face. And it felt like exactly that, not a piece of carved rock.
"Avatar Roku, eh?" Sokka said, joining them, spear on his shoulder. Aang nodded confirmation; still mesmerized by the statue, he took no notice of Sokka until Katara called out.
"Sokka?"
The butt of his spear shot out and up, and collided with the stone crown. Stone cracked, and it fell away.
"Sokka! You just desecrated something sacred!" Aang yelled in shock.
"Sacred?! Roku betrayed his duty as Avatar by not killing Sozin when he had the chance," Sokka spat at the Airbender, getting in his face.
"Hey," Katara said, before Aang spat back.
"After all you've been through, you think killing is the answer?" Aang demanded.
"Yes. It gets results – the side that is better at it doesn't get their nation wiped out, or under another's boot!
"Roku stopped the war for years, but because he didn't go all the way, war came anyway. He was more loyal to the Fire Nation than to the four nations. You saw yourself, he even had a crown from his people!"
"Mercy is never a mistake, Sokka!" Aang retorted.
"It's because of his mercy you are the last Airbender! Maybe if your people had believed in throwing punches, they would still be here!" Sokka yelled.
…
…
The two boys stared at each other, blue eyes closing with a sigh grey eyes drifted to the statue. The silence was deep to Aang's ears, so unlike the serene silences of old. It spoke of emptiness, loss.
He left in silence, walking past the still Katara.
When his footsteps faded, Katara snapped out of it and snarled.
"Sokka!"
"He needed to hear it," Sokka said, turning away from her. His calm tone stopped her dressing down before it started.
"You know as well as I do that Sozin's Comet returns in nearly five years. And the Fire Nation is only going to send more hunters after the Avatar. He's a good guy, but do you think he'll be able to survive if he holds his punches?
"I mean, look at this place. Pacifism might work when you're dealing with civilized people, with some kind of basic decency. But when you're up against people who do stuff like this… It's like stepping off the ice sheet into the water naked," Sokka said.
"You could have been gentler," she snapped.
"How?"
She had no answers to that.
Sokka shivered and stated to rub his arms.
"Did it just get colder in here?" he asked. Katara found herself shivering and stuffed her hands into her armpits. Unseen by either of them darkness had begun to poll in the shadows, and rise.
XXX
'Breathe deep, seek peace,' Aang recited the mantra again as he retreated into himself to rise above the emotions assailing him.(1) He could almost relive the memory in his head, the light of fondness the only true aberration.
Gyatso had always been fond of mixing tasks, however mundane, with any lesson. He had believed life was the greatest lesson, and the world the best place of learning. While other masters sought to create environments for learning, Gyatso rejected the notion.
He had been honored with a statue for almost singlehandedly reviving the holistic education philosophy as a respectable form in the temples. A high achievement, even if it had remained marginal.
"Life isn't something you learn about by peering at old scrolls, or even in meditation. That's like trying to build a shed by staring at a hammer or just thinking about the best way to do it. Useful, without a doubt, but you have to do it.
"These temples should be a sanctuary, a gateway. But the secrets of life are found in living.
"We have come to cut ourselves off, barring outsiders save for the Avatar to try and create harmony. Harmony to become one with all. I have never known a forest to turn away a different kind of creature.
"Air can grow stagnant and stale of it fails to circulate. And a fortress to solitude can become a prison of men's own pride and fear.
"That's why we are leaving now. The world has been waiting for you Aang, since before you were born. It's time to introduce yourself again and for the first time," Gyatso's words from so many different lessons drifted to him. He could sense the wisdom and comfort like the delicious aroma of his fruit pies.
Another memory emerged of him trying to explain the theory of self-correcting balance versus vigilant balance. Aang had been hopeless on the subject, and for the first time one of Gyatso's pies had started to burn.
A strange smelling smoke. Smoke, fire.
Burning, death, screams; they poured into the vision, setting the sky ablaze.
"Ahh!" Aaang cried, eyes snapping open. He could feel his sweat in the cool mountain air. He was in the present, there was no fire, the temple was long dead.
He had never really thought of places as being dead. Life went on, and ruins could host all manner of flora and fauna, as Gyatso had shown him. But he had never seen what those ruins had once been. He supposed it was like the grave markers other nations used. To strangers, it was just a stone with a name, a date, and maybe some titles. But to the beloved or even just acquaintances of the one whose remains were interred…
The worst thing was, it seemed like if he just squinted his eyes enough, the open-air bakery would seem just as it was when Gyatso assured him that being the Avatar did not make him any less Aang. And they had exacted a bit of genial, tasty revenge on the elder monks who forced the decision.
"Gyatso, Sokka's words are colored by anger. But you once told me anger is not a bad thing in and of itself. It shows that we care, that we do not want a world with injustice where people are mistreated. But it's like fire; as useful as it can be when in its proper place, it can easily escape if left untended, and cause far more harm than good.
"Is it right for him to be angry with me? I failed you all. And I failed him, and Katara. Their mother died in a war he should have stopped and their father left them to fight it.
"But what can I do? I might be the Avatar, but I just feel like Aang! What lesson do I need to learn? Is there anyone left who can teach it?" Aang asked the spot Gyatso had typically stood at when teaching while he baked.
There was no answer given. Aang sighed. Meditation would do him no good here. The place, which even Gyatso had respected as sanctuary, was now the grave marker of his old life. He couldn't find serenity with memories that once brought comfort turned into thorns.
He decided to go find Sokka and Katara. They would gather some supplies from the gardens. The peaches should be in season, he also realized. Maybe he could introduce Katara to her very first peach, he thought with a small smile.
XXX
"Aang!" Katara called out into the air. She was leaning against the stone railing that let half the corridor safely overlook a plateau Sokka guessed was cropland a century before.
"Airbenders avoid and evade, Katara, and considering this is his home, I don't think we'll find him," Sokka remarked.
"Oh, be quiet Sokka. You sent him running, now help me find him. He could be crying all alone somewhere," Katara said sharply, before continuing down the corridor.
"Men prefer to be alone when they cry, it protects their image," Sokka said.
"What image is that supposed to be, ponytail boy?" Katara called back. Sokka felt a chill go down his spine and dismissed it as this wind whipping about everywhere. Air Temple, what else would it be but windy? You don't look for the Earth Palace in the ocean, after all.
"You've never even seen a pony," Sokka shot back. Katara turned around, smiling internally at the rhythm of the old argument. She almost fell on her back as saw what was behind Sokka.
"Oh, finally admitting it? This tail is nothing if not manly," Sokka said, stroking his hair.
"Sokka," Katara gulped. Her hand scrambled at her large water skin.
"You're off your game sister," Sokka shook his head sadly, smiling. Then he saw her bend water out of her carrying skin, staring behind him, wide eyed and shaking a bit.
"Is Kazuko behind me?" he asked. She slowly shook her head. Pulling his spear up, he pivoted on his heel, letting out a war cry.
It gave way to a high-pitched shriek that echoed through the temple.
XXX
A peculiar sound jolted Aang from his roaming melancholy.
"Sokka? Or was that Katara?" Aang wondered at the scream. He decided to not question that; pulling his staff up, he took flight. He knew how sound carried, where the scream came from. Students learned that as a matter of course, even if you had to know places as well as he knew this temple for it to work.
He caught sight of Katara, dragging an unconscious Sokka by the arms down a stairway. Their pursuer emerged from the temple. Aang cried out in surprise himself.
It was sickly orange, bordered by a black aura. There were no legs; it may not even have touched the ground as its manta-shark-like tail wavered beneath it. The head was white as bone, with no neck, seeming to just sprout out of what passed for shoulders. The eyes were black, wide pits. The mouth, a toothless maw, opened wide, its shriek nearly sending him toppling out of control. As it was, he managed to crash behind Katara.
A scraping sound reached him as Katara called out to him. Something changed in the air…
"Katara, down now!" Aaang screamed. The Waterbender obeyed without hesitation. Aang saw the thing twist itself and darkness lashed out from it through the spot Katara and Sokka had been. It shrieked louder, and he heard another sound coming as well, some kind of grinding?
"Aang, what is that thing?!" Katara shouted, pulling herself and Sokka up. It was advancing on them again, its boneless waving motion even more agitated.
"A dark spirit!" Aang yelled back, running past her. He realized he shouldn't have known that. Avatar thing? And then realized he was putting himself between it and his friends.
What should he do? It was a straight corridor, and if he avoided or evaded its attacks, it would probably hit them instead. And he realized Sokka had been touched by this vengeful darkness.
"Dark spirit! Uh, this is sacred ground, you should not be here!" he said, looking at the disgusting thing. That seemed to upset it, as it made that grinding sound. Wait, it wasn't just grinding. There were words…
"Enemy, intruder, failure, fire, burn, death, hate all, hate, hate all, fire, fire, failure, pay, pay, PAY!" it spoke beneath itself. The color, the words…
"Brother monk," Aang went cold, speaking the two words. The creature lashed out, and thinking fast, he countered with his own windblast. The force of the collision sent him stumbling back, nearly losing his balance until he planted the staff.
He could feel it now, the burning cold coming from this spirit. Hatred overflowing; it made him want to flee with every fiber of his being. Aang wore the arrow, but he knew he was no true master; this was not a fight for him.
Katara called out in worry for him, still far too close. And he knew letting Sokka stay in that state would be somehow bad.
'What can I do?'
Facing the darkness looming over him, a memory came over him. He and Gyatso were inspecting the orchard, pruning the trees with care.
"So, Aang, have you truly begun to understand the role of the Avatar?" the monk had asked, while considering a particular branch. Aang cut one himself before answering.
"Yeah, all four elements use them to maintain peace and harmony between the four nations. Simple," Aang rattled off. The lesson had been very long winded; he would rather talk about anything else.
"Well, that is true after a fashion. Though harmony itself is a word that inspires different meanings in those four nations. And peace is often more complicated than war. But the Avatar's truest role, I have long believed, is not as an arbiter or enforcer of anything.
"Rather, the Avatar exists as a bridge to join sides separated. In the four nations, the Avatar can understand each nation better than anyone else, by mastering the bending arts at the heart of those nations. And thus, the Avatar can see with eyes nearly free from the assumptions of any single bending school.
"But there is another, deeper role. Just as the Avatar is at once a bender of fire, air, water, and earth, the Avatar is both mortal and spirit. And for all the differences between the nations, we have more in common than most would care to admit.
"But the spirits – be they spirits of nature, ideas, or even the departed – can be difficult for us to grasp. And perhaps we are enigmas, frightening and disturbing to them. As Avatar Aang, your greatest duty may be to reach out and understand the material and spiritual both. For that is balance far more vital than anything tied to mortal politics," Gyatso told him.
Aang saw the spirit glaring down at him through those black eyes in a blank face. Was it one man's spirit, or did it embody all the death and suffering visited here? All because he ran, like he wanted to run now.
"Spirit! I am the Avatar! I failed you by abandoning my duty. But these outsiders are not your enemies; they are innocent of the crimes that torment you!" Aang declared, raising his staff against its advance.
"AAAAVVVAATARRRR. FAILURRRREEEE," It moaned aloud.
"Aang, run!" Katara called out below.
"No, this is my duty.
"I did fail you. I abandoned my duty to my people, to the world; it is because of me that you have become like this, that the word is so full of destruction and hate. Please, let me help you."
He stepped up close to it; it smelled like he imagined poison would.
'Gyatso, past lives, now would be very good time to help,' Aang thought.
A tentacle sprouted from the mass of the dark spirit's body and swept him aside. Aang felt intense cold as it touched. Chilling him to the bone, but as he recovered, catching himself before hitting the railing, he thought, it was not trying to hurt him.
It was gong down the staircase, after his friends still.
He shook his right hand roughly, trying to force feeling back into the wooden limb where the tendril of twisted phantasm had struck. That cold – he didn't need a coat at the South Pole, but he was shivering now. No wonder Sokka screamed.
He had no idea what to do. A real Avatar like Roku would, but he couldn't remember lessons he was never taught!
Aang's eyes widened when he saw the spirit let loose another raging wail as it twisted its rippling body around and began hauling itself towards where Katara stood frozen, her arms looped underneath her brother's. Its two crooked limbs scraped loudly against the ground as it dragged itself at increasing speeds, its crying increasing in volume with every stride, until the walls shook with the awful noise.
Not wasting any more time on his prickling limb, Aang hurriedly pulled the breeze towards him, sculpting it like a snowball. Hopping upon it with unconscious grace, he rocketed towards the raging spirit. He knew he couldn't get in front of it in time to block its rampage towards the siblings, but that wouldn't stop him from trying anything.
He still barely managed to reach the spirit by leaping from his scooter, fingers outstretched towards what passed for the wailing being's shoulder.
The feeling of the spirit oddly reminded him of fruit pie stuffing. The cold raced up his arm, draining away the heat of his body. His life.
His eyes screwed shut in pain as the empty eyes turned toward him. His own eyes snapped open, glowing white, and without regard for what he was experiencing, his free hand shot out, planting his index and middle fingers between its eyes.
XXX
The air was burning; everything was burning. His hand was slick with sweat as he struck with his staff, driving men and flames back. A flick of the wrist dried the hand. Evade, avoid… strike.
He had lost sight of the others and tried to determine where he was, even as the world burned around him. Even the sky was stained; the Comet had come. Only hours ago, they had been preparing to commemorate the auspicious astrological event with a small feast while lecturing the younger students on its significance.
Now those it should be most sacred to perverted this heavenly gift!
No, chain the storm. Rise above it. Control is meaningless if lost in the face of adversity.
The wind carried tidings even as he fought for his life from an endless onslaught of fire and skulls.
Screams. The bison were screaming as they burned and fell. As did the children.
They were dying, and the enemy was passing him. He was alone; his struggle was in vain. He had failed, and the children were burning for his failure.
He released the storm, screaming his hate at his foes. For a moment, the world was quiet, the fires extinguished about him. The invaders were stunned, feeling their foe change in some deep way before their eyes. Then the storm struck.
Air was more than most men, even the learned, realized. It was complex, many vapors and gases flowing in currents whose complexity put the oceans to shame. One gas was needed for fire and breath. He denied it to some, extinguishing fires and lives as he gathered the gas to cast at others, their own fires overwhelming them. They came in a great rush, spears and arrows caught in the wind and hurled back at them.
He laughed without mirth, as if he could sense their fear even while they pressed onward.
He reveled in their fear, their pain, their death! They came here without provocation to do such things. Let them reap what they had come to sow, their cups overflowing and drowning them all.
The first lucky hit was just that. A trick on the wind. But it gave an opening. The third carried him to the ground, striking against stone. He coughed blood, and with his last breath, broke everything he could reach against the rocks.
As light faded and the fires roared, he spoke a single name like a prayer. Voice thick with regret as the darkness gathered in about him.
XXX
Aang closed his glowing eyes and opened them, returned to normal. The darkness was fading, the mockery of humanity evaporating, the darkness pulled forth into the light. But he could not lift his eyes to see. He did not want to admit what he now knew.
Yet he knew he had tears running down his cheeks. Anyone could say they took responsibility, but this was when you proved the truth of who you were.
He didn't think he would mind being a coward. He had not wanted to be a hero. But he had no right to say what he should be. Because others, the world, needed him to be something, to be the Avatar.
He looked up as the familiar face was revealed in ghostly shimmering blue.
Katara was the one to speak it. Her voice carrying as Sokka groaned and stirred in her arms.
"Monk Gyatso?" Katara whispered in shock.
Katara recognized the spirit from the statue Aang had shown them earlier, Aang's mentor. He had been the vengeful ghost?
"What hit me? And why are you dragging me?" Sokka asked. Katara dropped him to the ground.
"Hey!" he objected from below her.
"Quiet," Katara told him. He sat up and saw Aang talking with a ghost. Wait…
"Is that-?"
"Yes, shush," Katara told him. As they watched, Gyatso took flight, as she supposed ghosts could, and Aang took to the air after him with his gilder.
"Come on!" Katara told her brother, running after them.
"Sure, why not. I knew the day was going to be no good," Sokka grumbled, getting up.
XXX
Aang recognized the place Gyatso had brought him to. From his own life, and the memory he had seen. The Firebenders' corpses still littered the area. So many of them. They had killed, or done their best to kill, Gyatso. So why did he feel so sad to see them like this?
"Do not be ashamed of your gentle heart, Aang," Gyatso's spirit spoke to him. If he was phased by coming face to face with his own skeletal remains, he did not show it.
"You have released me from the anger and hate that bound my spirit, Aang. I am so sorry you had to witness my sins in such a way," the dead monk apologized, his mustache drooping.
"I find you, only to say goodbye," Aang remarked.
"It is time, Aang," the fallen monk told him, staring over the site of his death and sins.
"I'm so sorry. For failing you all," Aang tried to hold back the tears. This was a sacred moment; it shouldn't be marred with unbridled emotion.
"Aang, didn't I tell you there is something especially wrong with someone telling another, when it's alright for them to shed honest tears or not?" the spirit chided in that familiar tone.
"Aang, the failure I raged against was not yours. But mine, our peoples. Our people did not fall because you were gone. We were arrogant in believing Sozin, in his greed, would strike at the trade on the sea of the Water Tribes and the wealthy lands of the Earth Kingdom. Our lands, of secular chasteness and so well defended, we were certain would be far from his mind. We were arrogant in judging our foe and our belief that as in centuries past we would only feel the touch of the world's troubles lightly.
"Our faith in our own enlightenment led all of us astray, and we failed to protect what should have been most precious to us. I can only beg your forgiveness Aang, for old fools eager to push the responsibility of their failures onto the young."
"So, I really am the last Airbender," Aang sad.
"No, Aang, you are the Avatar. The hope for all nations, even those who are blind to their own despair. Even as you carry our legacy, always remember, you are far more than what we were.
"Let the world that was go, and use this new life to make this world better than the one Sozin shattered.
"And most importantly, do not forget how to smile, my dear student," Gyatso smiled. Aang returned the smile, letting the tears flow. Light overflowed over the monk's spirit, and once he was lost to sight, the light ascended with the speed of an arrow.
A light returning to the heavens.
"Rest in peace, finally. I will try, I will try and make this a world you will be happy to be reborn into," he wept. Sniffing, he wiped his face on his sleeve and turned to see his friends watching in awe.
"Are you guys alright?"
"Yeah."
"Wow, just wow," Sokka said, looking up at the sky still.
"Then could you give me a hand? There is something that needs to be done. And these men have waited a long time already," Aang asked, straightening up.
XXX
The Water Tribe siblings watched the large, crude pyre burn. The fire burned low in the wind, but it did burn, the armor and bones sifting.
"Ugh, that was unpleasant," Sokka said, brushing his arms off.
"Well, it was the leas we could do for Aang," Katara said. Though she was brushing the front of her coat off as well.
"No, I agreed thinking he was going to put his mentor to rest. I didn't expect to gathering up their bones! With the ghost gone, let the scavengers have 'em, I say," Sokka grumbled.
"Everyone deserves the respect of being laid to rest in some manner," Aang said behind them. Stepping past them, he bowed his head and chanted something under his breath. When he was done, he looked to their questioning faces and answered the unasked question.
"My friend Kuzon visited his grandfather's grave while I was with him once. I'm pretty sure it's not a proper burial prayer, but it's supposed to ease any restlessness in the dead, he told me." Sokka shook his head at the gesture, while Katara gave a small smile.
"Gyatso?" Katara asked.
"The necropolises are intact. I placed him in one of the empty master slots and sealed it. My people didn't believe in much pageantry over remains, and I already know Gyatso's spirit has moved on from this world.
"I already miss him," Aang sighed. Sokka surprisingly was the one to put a hand on his shoulder.
"You got to say goodbye, Aang. It may not seem like much, but take it from me, you'll be glad you got to do that. It's more than many of us get," the young warrior assured him.
"Thanks Sokka.
"Oh, I almost forgot. I took the time to check the orchards, the peaches are ripe for the plucking!" Aang recalled. He pulled out a piece of fruit and handed it to an already salivating Water Tribe teen.
"Non-meat food, still food," Sokka drooled, preparing to take a bite out of it. Only for something to plop down on his arm and snatch the peach. A tail whipped him in the face and the critter was gone.
The three watched the big-eared simian glide on bat-like wings and land near the fire. After taking a look at the display, it took a bite out of the peach and regarded them with big, curious green eyes.
"Lemur!" Aang cheered at the sight of the survivor.
"My dinner! Wait a minute, better dinner!" Sokka cheered, pulling out his boomerang.
"Sokka, don't!" Aang objected as the two boys ran off and the lemur took flight. Katara just sighed and went to look for that orchard. Someone had to restock the supplies around here. Though she stopped for a moment to look back at a Firebender mask burning away in the pyre. Her face darkened as she stared back at those empty, soulless eyes.
"Monsters," she whispered, walking off.
1). A little shout out to Dinotopia
Author's Note:
Well, that should make it clear the AU is not just the pursuer's gender. I actually did not plan on Gyatso's appearance until I started working on the chapter. U grew from my thoughts that the Air Temples seemed to preitin to have had the hammer falls of Sozin Comet come down on them, plus a century of neglect.
That said the Dark Spirit put up quite a fight, special thanks to Trackula fir suppling a prompt ad Zim for advice.
The scene with Zhao was fun to finally write. I have plans for that one.
Also the introduction of Fire Lady Miyo, you can see a visual for her on the talented Festum's deviantart account.
Long days and pleasant nights to you all.